Quaritchs whore

Well, you had to hand it to him- at least he came home tonight. Sometimes he'd be gone the whole night, making you sick with worry, until Healy would appear on your doorstep the next morning, lugging a half conscious Holland who reeked of alcohol and dirt, muttering that your husband had slept in the bushes behind the laundromat again and shaking his head in defeat.

It was honestly embarassing how Healy had to bring Holland to you like a cop would a teenage boy to their mother, explaining that he and his friends had tried to go fishing for walrusses in the local zoo.

And with Hollands pride and ego, you thought said embarrassement would get him to stop. He was a grown ass man, with a grown ass job and a family he had to be there for. You really tried to be patient, he had promised to be better after all, multiple times. Foolishly, you believed him every damn time, and every damn time you were reminded that your husband would fold under zero pressure- no matter if it was from your flirting, or someone mentioning free drinks.

With all patience and understanding thrown out the window, after he had told you there was this very important case he had to deal with today even though you had a whole family trip planned for weeks, you decided to wait for him, make him taste the bitterness of your cold shoulder.

"JESUS-!" he screamed in a high pitch as he finally noticed your presence, jumping and knocking over the coat stand near the door, the loud noise startling him yet again. You wanted to sigh.

After clumisly putting up the coat stand again, he leaned against it, trying to appear nonchalant and collected "Hey, sweetheart" he said, but it came out slurred. "You're still up. That's...that's nice. Real nice." he muttered, looking anywhere but your face. He was scared. Good.

You didn't reply. You just sat on the couch with your arms crossed, your leg bouncing with barely contained frustration, and you watched him navigate the short distance from the door to the armchair like a sailor on a ship in a storm. He almost tripped over the carpet and laughed at his own clumsiness as if it were endearing. Usually it would be, but tonight you were pissed off beyond comprehention.

Watching him try to actual sit in the armchair without entirely missing it and landing ass first on the ground, you regretted all the times you had rubbed his back while he puked into the toilet, cleaned the blood off his knuckles and face after whatever stupid fight he had picked, and every time you had listened to his slurred apologies with a gentle nod and a soft reassurance that it was okay. Even though it never was.

"You're drunk again" you stated firmly, and Holland played with his loose tie. "Maybe..." he mumbled, swallowing thickly, his mustache twitching as he saw your stern look out of the corners of his eyes.

It took him a while to force his eyes to you without flinching, and he tried to throw you the soft cheeky smile that always made you melt "You're really pretty..." he pouted in hopes this would make you slack, but it seemed to anger you even further. "Shut the fuck up!" you yelled and stood up, to which he shrunk back into the armchair with wide, wet eyes.

"Im sick of this, Holland! Every day you come home drunk, if you come home at all! Do you even know how worried I get when you don't pick up the phone and I have no idea where the fuck you are!?" He swallowed thickly, his eyes turning more and more pitiful and puppy-like the longer you berated him, but he remained silent.

"I asked you a question, March" you practically spat into his face, and the use of his last name made him flinch. Even in his drunk haze, he knew he fucked up big time today. "Yeah..." he answered your question timidly, his eyes darting from your feet back up to your face, watching you shake your head. "No, I don't think you do."

Your hands fell to your sides "Do you really want to have Healy stand at our door and tell me that you died because you were drunk driving and smashed into a gas station? That you were beaten to death, shot, strangled or stabbed because you picked a fight with the wrong people?" your voice grew a little softer at the end, but you weren't any less angry. His teary eyes just had a way of making you want to scoop him up and cuddle him.

"No..." he sniffled, tears threatening to spill over his long lashes as he stared at the floor in shame. You sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of your nose with tensed shoulders. "I know you are still grieving, Holland" you said clipped. You knew what had happened to his first wife, Hollys mom- it was truly horrible, and you were aware how the guilt was eating away at him even now.

"But this has to stop. I was understanding long enough. I vowed to help you through any and all hardships. And every day you promise me to try, to be better. But I feel like it's only getting worse" you expected some sort of reply from him, but his eyes only got fuller with tears, and he refused to meet your eyes, his bottom lip trembling.

You sighed deeply and already turned to leave "I'm done with this" -for today, you wanted to add, but your first few words were enough to send Holland spiralling with the wrong idea.

You heard a pitiful sobbed "No!" behind you as you walked to your shared bedroom, then a thump, and a crushing pressure around your ankle. You gasped, looking down at Holland, who had thrown himself over the floor to grab your leg with both hands. "Holland, what the fuck-" you started, ready to shake him off, but the way he looked up at you, all desperate and helpless, made you stop.

"Please, don't leave me! I don't wanna lose you too, please. Please baby" he hiccuped, tears streaming down his rosy cheeks. Only then did you realise he was actually thinking you were divorcing him, but instead of taking that fear off his shoulders, you let it simmer just a bit further. It was the least he deserved. He scared you every night he didn't come home, you were allowed scare him back.

"Please, I'm sorry! Let me make it up to you. I-I'll do whatever you want! Just- just please, don't be mad at me." He begged you, his forhead pressing against your slippers, his knees sliding against the carpet "Punish me if you want- do whatever the fuck you have to. Just don't stay angry at me!" His voice cracked, high and slurred, and he climbed up your leg, pushing the hem of your pants up to sloppily kiss your ankle "I love you, baby. Say you still love me, pleeeeeease" he pathetically cooed against your skin between kisses, his mustache scratching you.

When he reached your thighs, now actually kneeling before you, you shoved him away, and he sobbed even harder. "You can sleep on the couch. I’m going to bed.” you said firmly, holding up a finger as if you were scolding a misbehaving dog, and maybe you were.

"Baby, please! Come oooon, please, touch me, hit me, give me something! Baby, baby, I love you, I'm sorry!" he wheezed as he got up on undsteady feet, stumbling after you like a baby you had stolen it's toy from.

At the door of your bedroom you turned, and Holland fell around your neck theatrically, cupping your face in his hands "Just kiss me baby, gimme a kiss..." he muttered with a sniffle, leaning in to capture your lips, but you slapped him hard across the face. It echoed, the sting sharp on his cheek. He whimpered like a kicked puppy as he held his jaw, and he might have been just a puppy with the way he looked at you- eyes wide and big, bottom lip potruding in a trembling pout.

You almost gave up then, but something in you prevented you from going weak because of his utterly heartbroken expression. "Couch, Holland. I don't want to see you near this room until noon" you said with a pointed frown. "That's unfair, baby, please-" He tried one last time, reaching for you, but you slammed the bedroom door shut, right in his face, and what followed were downright miserable sobs muffled through the wood. Luckily Holly was sleeping over at a friends house today, or she would have been woken up by her fathers breakdown.

You heard his breath hitching in little hiccups as he cried, his feet shuffling against the carpet before a loud thump echoed as he fell onto the couch, wailing into the pillows.

You loved Holland dearly, you really did, and of course his emotional distress didn't leave you cold, but you couldn't help but think he deserved every bit of it. He didn't seem to learn otherwise. Sometimes you really thought you lived together with a little boy that wouldn't stop messing with things until they hurt him.

Maybe it was mean, but you let him bask in that helplessnes and regret for about half an hour, in hopes he had sobered up just a little. It took just a few shots to get Holland drunk to the point he didn't even know his own name, but sobering up took quite a while, and the morning after was never pleasent for anyone involved.

During that, you brushed your hair out, took off your make-up, did your little skin care routine before you prepared to slip into your pyjamas, but when you searched for the garment in your shared closet, something caught your eyes.

You pulled out the delicate navy blue lace panties Holland had once whispered where his favourite because they matched the colour of that one suit two piece he often wore.

You brushed your fingers over the tiny bow at the front of the panties, searching for the matching top that had a cute romantic neckline, and a sheer, flowy material that fell over your upper body beautifully. You hadn't worn it in quite a while, which made you think- and you smiled, slipping them on, your pulse quickening as you looked at the closed bedroom door.

You quietly went outside, watching him hug a pillow to his chest, curling in on himself, but his shoulders weren't shaking as much now.

"Holland" you whispered after a moment, and he jumped with a loud JESUS, falling off the couch and onto the plush carpet with a pained groan.

When he managed to sit up, he looked at you, really looked at you, with wide eyes, an open mouth- then his face twisted and he started bawling again, covering his eyes with his hands. You quickly went to kneel beside him, squeezing his shoulder "Hey, Holland, what's wrong?" you asked him, worried your skimpy outfit had caused him to cry this much without you wanting to.

He took a few shuddering breaths between sobs before answering "You're so pretty n' beautiful and I don't deserve to look!" he whined, babbling as he leaned into your shoulder to keep himself from looking at you. You patted his back, and he seemed to get even louder. "You deserve to look, baby" you cooed, and the sound he made as you called him that petname was the most relieved you've ever heard, and he straightened up with a pitiful "Yeah?" all breathless, sniffling, brushing the back of his hand over his nose.

You nodded at him and he smiled, eyes full of tears, before he leaned in to kiss you. You covered his mouth with your palm before he could, softly smirking. "You deserve it if!" you held up a finger "...you're going to be good, and do what I say"

He stuttered out a quiet laugh, nodding frantically "I will, I will, whatever you want baby, I swear!" He rambled on and on while you snatched the loose tie from around his neck "Hands behind your back, handsome" you instructed, and he did so with such vigor you thought he broke his arm yet again. You tied his wrists together and pushed him to sit up against the couch, his legs sprawled out over the carpet.

You unbuttoned his shirt with that copper pattern, and luckily he wasn't wearing that white top underneath, so you could easily attack his skin with little bites.

He whimpered softly at the pain, but he was happy you were even touching him. Your hands unbuckled his belt, pulling down his white pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock, which was already starting to throb to life.

"I want you to tell me about all the times you came home drunk these last months. One. By. One" you whispered into his ear, watching him shudder as you stroked his cock harsh in times with your words. "And for each one, I’m going to edge you. And if you're good enough, maybe I'll let you cum at the end of it" you said, squeezing him at the base, making him look up at you with bloodshot eyes and trembling lips “O‑okay…” he whispered.

You slapped him across the face again, Holland gasping in surpise, and his cock gave a pathetic throb in your first. "What was that?" you spat, and he could have creamed his pants right then and there.

"Y-yes, ma'am" he corrected himself, swallowing thickly, and you kissed the red mark on his cheek to soothe it "Good boy" you cooed, patting his neck, feeling the goosebumps appear there.

You leaned back again, wrapping your hand around his shaft again, and he was already thickening in your grip, the soft skin sliding against your palm as you gave him a few slow, deliberate strokes to warm him up. He let out a shaky exhale, his hips instinctively pressing forward into your hand, but you stopped immediately, your grip firm but unmoving.

"Ah-ah!" you chided, squeezing the base of his cock just enough to make him gasp and lower his hips again "You don't get to touch me, and you don't get to move until I give you permission, understood?"

Holland squeezed his eyes shut, tears rolling over his cheeks and he nodded. Usually staying silent would have earned him another slap, but you figured he'd need his voice to explain himself to you, so you let it slide, much to his luck.

"Now, what did you do last week, hm?" you looked at him expectingly, his dick now standing proudly to attention, leaking all over your fingers. He licked his lips, biting the bottom one with a soft mewl as pleasure licked up his spine "I...I went out with- with Healy for his birthday" he stuttered, voice raising in pitch, his face colouring in shame as he remembered.

"And what did I ask you?" you questioned, tightening your fist around his cock every time you reached his leaking tip. His mouth opened in a silent moan, and you could tell he was struggling against his bindings. "Y-you asked me to...oh nghhh fuckk...to not overdo it with the a-alcohol"

You nodded, spitting on his cock to add to the slick slide of your hands, and he sobbed so beautifully for you, fighting against the urge to needily fuck into your hands. "And did you listen to me?" you cooed in a condescending manner, speeding up your hand. Hollands arms jerked, and he whined as he remembered he couldn't touch you. He shook his head, moaning "No- no, I...I drank...a lot and mhmm, came home b-but instead of going through the door Icrashedintothewindowandyouthoughtsomeonewasrobbingyou" he quickly quickly pressed out the last part as his cock twitched in your grip, almost shouting his load, but you removed your hand before that could happen.

Holland sobbed, the tears sticking to his long lashes, the tip of his cock turning an angry purple. He groaned, eyes shut tightly as he leaned his head back against the couch. He looked so beautiful right now, but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of telling him that just yet. "And do you feel sorry about it?" you asked, rubbing his thigh soothingly.

He squeaked out a yes, muttering it over and over again, his hips barely shifting forward into your hand. You pouted, as if you were thinking about it "I don't know if I can believe you" you said innocently, pressing your thumb right under his tip, circling in a way that made his brain melt out of his ears.

"We're not done yet, baby" you reminded him, and your hand wrapped back around him and you began to move again, slow and torturous strokes to not get him close so quickly again. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, his fingernails digging into his hand behind him. "What about the week before that?"

Holland groaned, his head lolling from side to side, wheezing out soft whines. It felt like all od his blood had traveled down to his dick, pulsing hot and heavy in your hands and making him lightheaded and breathless. "I- I got into a fight at a...gas station" he swallowed, his toes curling in his polished shoes. "And why was that?" you asked, your strokes picking up speed, the sound of your hand moving along his length wet and obscene as he leaked pre cum like a broken faucet.

He was very reluctant to answer you, but your intense glare beat him to it. "The guy at the register didn't want to, oh god, to sell me a-anything 'cause I was so...so drunk" he hiccuped, the tears that had dried forming salty streaks on his cheeks. "The security guy had to, had to throw mhmm-me out and I tried to- fuck! I thought I could hit him, but he knocked me out- oh please, please, please!" he moaned, his pulse throbbing painfully through his dick "hmm, oh, shit- ughhh, woke up in Healys car h-hours later..."

You hummed at that, picking up the pace, making sure to glide your palm from his his balls all the way up to the tip, corkscrewing your wrist every time you came up, and Holland looked like he was about to combust. "That reminds me of another time, sounds very similar" you said, and he knew exactly what you were talking about. He squeezed his eyes shut as if the memory was hurting him.

"You remember it too, huh? Two months ago, when you got shitfaced drunk after losing important details on a case, disappeared for hours, got beaten up by a group of bikers you provoked and sat crying at the curb with a black eye, bruised ribs and your wallet and car keys stolen when Healy finally found you!" your voice raised with every word until you were practically yelling into his face, much like you had yelled at him those two months ago when Healy dragged him in at four in the morning after visiting the ER. You had been so, so angry, it was a miracle he was even alive.

Your current anger translated in the way you fisted his cock now in both hands, agressive and tight, and Holland downright screamed "And as if this wasn't enough, I made you sleep on the couch, and the next day I find you lying in a puddle of your own vomit and we had to get a new fucking sofa!" you growled, and he was so fucking close to cumming he could almost taste the release on his tongue, but you wrapped your hands impossibly tight around the base of his dick like you wanted to choke it off, and his body thrashed helplessly through the orgasm he didn't have.

It hurt so fucking much it had tears spring to his eyes again, running hot and searing over his cheeks. "Fucking shit!" he squealed, his legs cramping, the tip of his cock turning a swollen purple.

When he settled back down, panting and sweating, you removed your hands from him, watching a thick line of pre cum trickle down his shaft. "You're a damn failure" you stated, giving his cock a quick slap that had him hissing and arch his back, but you knew he was a slut for the pain, and he was aware he deserved every bit of it. "A fucking disaster is what you are"

Still, your words made him whimper, quiet sobs echoing from him as he lowered his head in shame. Your hand quickly found his face, grabbing his cheeks to squish them into a pout, nails digging into his stubbled skin "But oh, you're so pretty when you're nothing but a pathetic, thoughtless mess." you cooed, watching his teary eyes grow wide, and he sniffled, warmth spreading through his chest.

You loosened your grip on his face, but your hand remained firmly around his jaw. You leaned closer, admiring the way his lashes slightly stuck together due to his tears, his eyebrows scrunched together.

You could basically hear his heartrate increase as your face neared his "You want to kiss me, don't you?" you whispered, and his face crumbled in your hands, nodding as best as he could, pressing out a small 'yes', while big fat tears ran down his cheeks. You decided to grant him this wish, pressing your lips against his, and he absolutly melted against you.

As if dying of thirst, he opened his mouth, swallowing your tongue with a wanton moan. You could taste the saltiness of his tears, and the slight sweetness of the honey whiskey he had earlier, licking into the roof of his mouth.

He was struggling against the tie holding his wrists together, eager to touch you, and equally frustrated that he couldn't. You smirked against his mouth, pulling back, a string of thick saliva connecting you. You smiled at his dazzled face, giving the corner of his mouth one last peck before you settled back, your hand sliding back down to grasp his dick.

He gasped and whined, as if he had forgotten just how hard and aching he was from one kiss.

"Don't think you're out of the woods now" you warned, slipping lower, cupping his balls, squeezing gently before returning to his shaft "I want to hear more." you stroked him with a slick, sloppy motion, your palm incredibly slick with his arousal. "It's one thing to abuse alcohol when you're out and about, but you don't even stop when you're at home, hm?" you slowly dragged your fingers down his cock. His skin was searing hot, and your panties gushed at the thought of feeling him inside you.

Holland moaned, a broken, needy sound as you teased his full balls over and over again, threatening to burst the tighter you gripped him. His head was rolling from side to side, and you had to grasp the back of his thick, soft hair to keep him still and locked on you.

He was practically vibrating, coiled with tension under your hands. His adams apple was bobbing, and he looked so fucked out it made you want to stop all of this and ride the living daylights out of him, but the best always came last.

"You visited your mom for a few days and i was supposed to look after Holly..." he whispered with half lidded eyes, his jaw clenching as his cock throbbed under your touch. "And? Did you do that?" you asked him, pulling his hair enough to make it sting. "I-I drank most of the time because....I missed you so much" with his confession, the tears started forming again, and he couldn't get his words out without his voice shaking.

You cooed at him, brushing the sweat slick hair out of his eyes, your fingers featherlight over his simmering skin "I missed you too, baby. And I can forgive you for that. I just don't know if I can forgive the fact that Holly had to go grocery shopping on her own, that she had to cook for herself and that you didn't show up at the parent's evening in her school- all because you were too busy drinking until you passed out in the bathtub with your clothes on!"

You have his cock a hard pinch with your nails, leaving moonshaped marks over the flushed and sensitive skin, and Holland keened at the pain of being denied release yet again, but he knew he deserved it.

"You can be lucky she is more of an adult than you are" you spat in his face, actually spat, your saliva collecting in his mustache, and you scoffed with a grin as his tongue darted out to lick it off. "Hmm, you make it hard to stay mad, you know that? You're lucky you're so pretty" you mused, your fingers tracing the structure of his face.

He shuddered at the contact, and he blinked harshly to clear his vision of his tears to look up at you, the angel above him whose mercy he tried to earn. His teary gaze, pupils blown wide, was probably the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, and only you were blessed with the sight.

"You want to cum, don't you?" you asked, giving his perfectly sculpted nose a boop, and he nodded frantically, tears spilling over his lashes, and you pouted as if you were pitiying him. "Aww, that's too bad. Because there is one last incident I'd like you to tell me about" you said, and your hand went back to fist his cock, relentless and fast.

Holland choked on a gasp, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He was so sensitive it bordered on pain, and you were sure it would take more than a breath of air over his tip to make him cum.

You were jerking him off just right, and while he wanted to watch your hand glide over his cock, he feared he wouldn't last if he did. The wet sounds already took a toll on him. Paired with your sweet parfume and your firm voice- it was a deathly combination. His mind was beyond scrambled, too far gone to form a thought. All he knew was that he wanted to be good, and that every breath felt like it wasn't enough.

"The car, Holland" you pressed on, your free hand rubbing and pulling his nipples that had started to poke through the thin fabric of his button up. The flush had crept down to his chest, and his nipples were all cute and pink, perfect for you to play with until they were raw and aching. He didn't know wether to arch into your touch or to back away from it. He felt like he was going to explode.

He shakily gasped for air, paired with pathetic whines and mewls "I...I almost ran into a car, l-last month" he sniffled. You gave him a few slow, gentle strokes as you listened, your thumb finally giving his swollen head a bit of attention as you smeared the precum over it in a soothing motion that made him whimper with relief. "I hadn't selpt the night before an..nghhh fuck, fuck I- I was so tired n' sooo drunk that I hallucinated this- this giant bee and uhhh-huh, my god!" his teeth bored themselves into his bottom lip as you fondled his balls in time with your deliberate strokes, and he almost scratched a hole into the sofa with his nails.

"I wanted to, oh, hug it. B-but it was a car. It swerved and the driver yelled at me and I just...lost conciousness. Woke up to two police men s-standing over me, and you had to pick me up from the station- fuck me!" he yelled as the friction of your hand left him right at the brink, his cock twitching and aching for release that you had so cruelly denied him yet again.

You watched him shake and writher for a few moment. He was barely sitting upright now, and he was trembling like a leaf.

"And that's the one that scares me the most, Holland" you said firmly, your chest squeezing as you turned his head softly over to look at you, his eyes puffy and his lips bitten and plush. "One day, that car isn't going to swerve and I'll have to explain to Holly why her father isn't coming home"

He sniffled, swallowing thickly "I'm so sorry" he squeaked. "Please…please, I love you. I’ll stop…I’ll-I’ll be better” he begged, his face crumbling into a snotty mess. He rambled on and you leaned in to kiss him, shutting him up, and his body almost sagged against you. "I'm not asking you to stop drinking entirely" you murmured against his mouth, brushing his hair behind his ear "I'm asking you to be careful. To think about me and Holly. To think about the people who love you before you do something stupid."

He was a wreck when you pulled back, his body slick with sweat, his cheeks flushed and his lips parted in silent pleas.

"I-" he had to catch his breath "I love you" he whimpered again and you nodded while he repeated it, saying the words with his whole chest, and you knew that he meant them with everything he had. "I love you too, baby. I really do. And that's why I am so worried about you." you muttered, cupping his face, kissing away the tear stains under his eyes, and he could have been content like this- if his cock wasn't aching like it was about to fall off if you didn't let him cum.

You leaned back, licking your lips as you admired his weeping cock, swiping just one finger under the tip to collect his precum and watching him squirm at the brief contact "You were so good for me, such a good boy" you cooed, and if he had a tail, it would be wagging right now.

"And good boys get rewarded, don't they" your lips stretche into a grin, tears springing to his eyes as if you had finally granted him salvation. "Where do you want to cum, handsome?"

The answer came fast "Inside!" he begged immediately, his voice desperate and raw. "Please, wanna be inside you, feel you, pleeeease, I want to fill you, mommy. Make you a mommy" he babbled, delirious as you climbed into his lap to straddle his thighs. If there was a piece of him inside you, one with his blue eyes and your hair colour, you couldn't stay too mad at him, could you?

You tried not to show how eager you were yourself. You had been leaking into your panties ever since this started, had rubbed your clit a little when he wasn't paying attention, and you had hoped he would chose to cum inside you.

"Whatever you want, sweet thing" you purred, but pulling your panties aside to push his slick cock against your dripping folds and he cried out, but before you sank down, you reached for the pack of cigarettes tucked away in the chest pocket on his button up, taking it out, throwing the pack out of reach, and lightening it with a flick of the lighter he always carried with him.

You took a slow drag and sank down. Hollands soul left his body, his head falling back as your heat enveloped him.

The smoke curled around your lips as you exhaled with a moan, and you watched his eyes follow the trail with a hungry, desperate longing. You even pulled at his tie to loosen the knot, and his hands instantly flew to your waist, keeping your pelvis flush with his to let you adjust, and to will himself to resist his orgasm.

You brought the cigarette back to your lips, took another slow drag, and let the smoke curl out in a thick plume. You leaned forward, blowing the smoke directly into his face, watching as he inhaled greedily, his eyes fluttering shut as the nicotine hit his bloodstream. Having this need fullfilled already felt like orgasmic bliss and the tension visibly left him. "That's all you get. One lungful of smoke and your cock deep inside my pussy. That's your reward for being such a pathetic, reckless disaster of a man." you mused, starting to move your hips up and down, the slide easy and effortless.

He moaned, a low, broken sound "Yes" he slurred, his hips bucking up to meet yours. "Yes, yes, I'm pathetic, I'm a mess, I'm so sorry, please don't stop, please don't ever stop." he bawled, his body flodded with sensations as he finally got what he wanted.

The cigarette hung between your lips, and that was the hottest thing Holland had ever seen. Usually you didn't smoke, it was Holland who needed a cigarette to occupy his mouth during sex if it wasn't smothered by your cunt, but just seeing him be tortured while watching you do something he couldn't, it made you feel powerful.

You rode him slowly, your movements deliberate, each roll of your hips dragging his length deeper inside you. You could feel the heat building, the tightness of your walls gripping him, and you leaned forward, your clothed breasts brushing against his bare chest.

Your lips found his ear and you traced the shell with your tongue, making him groan high pitched. "You feel so good inside me" you whispered, your teeth catching on his lobe.

He gasped, his hips bucking upward in a desperate attempt to meet your thrusts, and you could hear the wet, sloppy sounds of your bodies joining, his cock sliding in and out, the soft squelch of your arousal mixing with his precum.

You increased the pace of your hips, bouncing harder, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through both of you. You took a drag of your half burnt cigarette, and you could see Hollands nostrils flare as he inhaled the smoke that curled upward to the ceiling, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

"I'm not on birth control" you giggled, kissing his cheek and he wailed like your words hurt him, his cock giving the most violent throb in your pussy you had ever felt. "Oh my fucking god!" he cried out, squeezing his eyes shut as he fought off the urge to cum before you gave him permission to.

You could feel the pressure building, the familiar tightening in your lower belly as you approached your own climax. And you knew that Holland wouldn't be able to withstand this torture for much longer.

You leaned back, your hands gripping his thighs to support yourself, smirking at him as he realised what you were about to do- and began to ride him with fierce, erratic movements, your whole weight slamming down onto him with each thrust.

His hands on your hips grew tighter, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he tried to hold you steady, but you bucked against him, your movements wild and uncontrolled, knowing this would throw him over the edge without warning

"Ffff-fuck! Fuck, im close! Please, mommy, oh god, please let me cummmhm!" he cried out, biting into the back of his hand to distract himself from his balls growing tight, ready to burst.

You smirked, biting your lips to stifle a moan “Look at you” you whispered, your voice ragged with pleasure. “crying for my pussy, begging to fill me up”

He moaned even louder, a sound that seemed to echo off the walls, his body trembling as he neared the edge. You could feel his cock twitching, the head throbbing right against your cervix as you circled your hips with him deep in your guts, slowing your movements just enough to let him feel every pulse of your warm, velvety cunt around him, keeping the fire simmering low- then you suddenly slammed down hard, your hips grinding against his, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through his whole body.

You intentionally didn't grant him verbal permission to cum, you just wanted to watch him lose the battle. And if his eyes weren't rolling into the back of his head, he would see your expression- smirking while biting your lips and chewing around the bud of the cigarette, your eyes half lidded as you craved to feel his cum shoot right into your womb.

He cried out, a raw, broken shout, and just a few more bounces on his cock and you felt his cock explode deep inside you, hot jets of cum spilling into you endlessly, filling you with his warmth. It was so much, the pressure of it almost too much, and you gasped as he kept cumming, and crying, and cumming. You continued to bounce, drawing out his orgasm, each thrust pulling another shudder and spurt of cum out of his body. It bubbled around his shaft and out of your pussy with a wet, squelching sound.

As his release faded, the overstimulation came quickly- a sharp, delicious ache radiating from his cock down his legs as you kept moving, your hips still grinding over his, your walls clenched tight around his softening length.

He wheezed, high and broken sound, his body shaking as the pleasure turned painful, and his trembling hands roamed your body to distract himself from the overwhelming sensations.

“Fuck…fuck…please…stop…I-I can't” he choked on his plea, his voice a ragged mewl, the veins in his neck straining as you used him for your own pleasure.

You ignored him, your own orgasm building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your belly. You could feel the heat spreading down into your thighs, that familiar wave beginning to crest. There was just something missing- and with the last bit of brain function Holland had left, his right hand found your clit through your panties, rubbing the swollen nub a little clumsily, but in times with your thrusts. You took the cigarette out of your mouth with trembling hands, your face contorting in pleasure "Oh yes! Oh, baby!" you squealed, a scream tearing from your throat, raw and unrestrained as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

As if your pussy clamping down around his sensitive cock and milking him in a pulsing rhythm wasn't torture enough, you stubbed the cigarette out on his arm that was working your clit, enjoying the hiss and whimper he let out at the sting but he didn't pull away. He welcomed the pain. He deserved it, and he knew it. He also knew that he didn’t deserve even the tiniest bit of your attention, and he would do everything to keep you from realising you could have someone better.

Heat pooled between your bodies and you continued to ride him through the aftershocks, slow and soft, drawing out the pleasure until your tremors subsided, leaving you both panting, slick, and utterly exhausted.

You collapsed forward, your forehead resting against his chest and you giggled, your body buzzing with warmth. Hollands arms wrapped around you weakly, his hands trembling as they stroked your back and hair, his breath hot against your ear. "I-I'm sorry. I should have waited for permission before...you know" he muttered, sniffling, wiping away the last stray tears that stained his cheeks.

You smiled at that and leaned up to kiss him, lifting yourself off of him to hear him moan against your mouth as the cold air of the room hit his hot skin, and the mixture of his cum and your arousal dripped out of you, smearing across his white pants, ruining them entirely.

You sat down on his thigh, your arms wrapping around his neck. You could feel his heart thump rapidly in his chest as you pressed yourself to him. "It's okay, baby. I just wanted to see how much you could take. I'm not mad" you murmured against his lips, the kisses turning into shorter and shorter peck until you pulled back to admire him, brushing his hair away from his forhead.

The delicate touch of your fingertips in his hair had his eyes fluttering shut for a moment, bone-deep tiredness radiating off of him. When he looked back at you, his eyes were watery again. "But you're probably still mad about uhm..." he cleared his throat, averting your gaze "...the other stuff" he muttered, a small, sad pout on his face.

You sighed deeply, brushing your thumb over his cheek "Oh Holland" you started, but he cut you off. "I’m sorry” he apologized, his voice hoarse before he swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry I keep hurting you. And I know I say this all the time but...I really mean it. I want to try, want to be better for you and for Holly" he told you with puppy eyes, and you smiled softly at him.

"It's just...hard" he admitted, sighing deeply, his hand rubbing circles into your skin. Your lips brushed his cheeks, a promise that held both forgiveness and hope for the future "I know it's hard, and I'm so proud you want to change something. And I know that you can do it"

Holland scoffed with a gentle roll of his eyes, as if it was unbelievable how much faith you had in him despite how many times he had disappointed you. You poked his cheek with a teasing grin "March, March, he's our man, if he can't do it no one can!" you cheered in a stupid voice, successfully making him smile and chime into the little goofy tune.

"I'll get better" he said then, a bit more convinced than before. "I'll try"

You cupped his face in your hands “You better” you whispered, your voice thick with affection and the faint taste of smoke on your tongue as you gave him another kiss.

"Because I'm not going to give up on you"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Damn this probably has so many grammar mistakes but my ass can't be bothered it's 4am

All the special thanks to my twin @bleerggg for having such an amazing brain to come up with all these ideas that made this fanfic perfect, it wouldn't be so hot n' sexy without you. Everyone say thank you!🗣💥

You tried your best as a single mom, and you knew you hadn't always been perfect. Still, Holly was always very hard working and good in school, until 8th grade middle school came. Kids became meaner, school days were longer and more draining, you didn't have as much time for her anymore since everything got more expensive, but your lousy loan stayed the same.

Holly often found you crying late at night, hunched over unpaid bills and warnings from the apartment complex, threatening to turn off your water if you couldn't pay soon. And there was nothing she could do to help you. So it didn't take long for her grades to start slipping.

You noticed the B's becoming C's, the C's edging toward D's, and when you tried to bring it up gently over dinner, suggesting a tutor for her, despite you not really being able to afford one, her fork had clattered against her plate and she muttered something about having a headache and disappeared into her room.

You sat there in the empty kitchen, surrounded by the ghost of a family that had fractured years ago, and felt the familiar weight of inadequacy press down on your shoulders. You sighed deeply, your head in your hands.

You didn't push. Holly knew she could always come to you to vent or for help. But you told yourself it was fine, that she was going through a phase, that teenagers were moody creatures by nature. You took on extra shifts at the bookstore, came home with aching feet and tired eyes, and pretended not to notice that the light in Hollys room stayed on later and later each night. You didn't have the energy after such a long day to speak to check up on her, and you felt like the worst mom ever because of this.

You couldn't even pick her up from school most of the time, which wasn't even the biggest issue- because what you didn't know was that Holly often stayed after class to talk to her favourite teacher Mr. Grace.

It had started small. First a missed homework assignment, then a failed quiz, which was the kind of academic stumbling that could have been corrected with a simple after school detention and was easily blamed on a bad day. But Ryland could tell it was more than that when Holly lingered at his desk after the students filtered out of the classroom instead of heading to the detention hall, and when he asked her what was wrong with that gentle, patient voice of his, something had cracked open inside her chest.

Holly plopped back down into her chair in the front row, her head in her hands, and Grace wheeled over in his chair, folding his palms together on the table. "I can't do it anymore" she whispered, and Rylands face fell into deep settled concern. She sounded very depressed. His shoulders squared up as she continued.

"I can't keep pretending everything is fine when it's not. I feel tired every single day, I don't have the energy to do anything and I can't tell my mom because she's already doing so much. I just feel like I am the reason her life is so miserable and that my dad left." she sniffled, wiping away the hot tears, feeling embarassed she was crying in front of her teacher, even though he always tried to make sure his students felt comfortable in his lessons.

Something tugged at Rylands heart, his own eyes watering slightly. He couldn't believe his ears "I should have never existed, I'm such a failure anyway. I can't make her proud, I don't have any friends, I just make her worry about me even though she really doesn't need that extra baggage now" Holly hiccuped, and Grace just listened. For 45 minutes, he just sat there and listened while Holly talked about the crushing weight of the academic stress on her shoulders, the way her social anxiety made every class feel like an endurance test and the suffocating fear that she would never be good enough for anything or anyone and that she didn't have any plans with her future life past the age 18.

Everything hit too close to home, and he was too choked up at the end of it. It was a lot to take in, and too much for a thirteen year old girl to deal with. Ryland was by no means a therapist, but he could share his own experiences, which didn't stray far from Hollys.

He told her about his own parents divorcinc when he and his twin brother were little. About how each parent took one kid. His brother Colt grew up with their bitter father, while Ryland grew up with only his mother. She also tried her best to keep them both afloat, and him being a smart kid wasn't exactly a blessing, because his mom had to pay for college, study groups, private schools and many more things regarding his education so he could get his doctoral title. Paying with money she never had. He watched her work her ass off day in and day out just so he could chase his dreams, while hers laid forgotten in the past. He threw himself into his work because he didn't want the hard earned money of his mother to go to waste and it was easier than dealing with his feelings.

"Your mom loves you" he said, and his voice was so earnest, so genuinely kind, that Holly couldn't help but actually sob. He took a handkerchief out of his suit jacket and gave it to her "She'd miss you terribly, even if she never had you. I'm sure of that. And I know you don't want to burden her, but carrying this alone isn't fair to either of you. You should tell her" he suggested, though he knew that was easier said than done.

So when teacher-parent evening arrived, he decided to give Hollys situation a little helping push. And you already dreaded going. All of the students had their mom and dad present, while you were the only Single mother there. You felt very out of place.

You dressed in a modest blouse and sensible slacks, that at least made you look like a responsible adult even though you just felt like a fraud. You sat at the very back of the classroom, only half listening to what the principal had to say about updated rules, planned school trips, additional education fees you'd have to pay in the new year and general issues that had surfaced in class- bullying, social media trends disturbing lessons and the repeated usage of phones during classes even though it was prohibited. The usual.

Only when a blonde man with glasses sitting in front of his blue eyes took the word did you start to actually listen. Suddenly the science kits you had to help pay for your children to use and the planetarium they planned to visit sounded so interesting. So that was the infamous Mr. Grace Holly had voiced to be her favourite teacher so many times. You could see why. He was a bit shy around so many parents, but he was funny, and it sounded like he knew what he was talking about, and that he did so with a passion.

When he began to stray from one topic to another, sharing informations that really didn't matter and turned into nonsensical rambling only a fellow molecular biologist could understand, the principle stopped him kindly and wrapped up the evening.

The parents filtered out one by one while you still had to recover from the spell Mr. Grace' awkward charm had left on you. Speaking of which, the man himself now stood in front of you, hands in his pockets to appear nonchalant "Mrs-" He stopped to clear his throat and you snapped out of your haze, your eyes snapping up at him.

You practically jumped from your seat, brushing over your hair and blouse to shake his hand. "Hi, I'm Hollys-"

"-Hollys mom" he stated at the same time as you. You both giggled, and you saw a flush creeping up his neck. "I was hoping I'd get a chance to speak with you alone, if you have a moment?" he asked you then, and you agreed, because there was something in his expression that made your stomach flip in a way that had nothing to do with anxiety about your daughter. Curse your dirty mind, but you hadn't get laid in forever, and Holly never mentioned just how handsome her teacher was.

He led you to his empty classroom, closed the door behind you and gestured for you to take a seat. You admired the solar system hanging from the ceiling that looked handmade, the walls plastered with countless of posters with pictures of the milky way or planets on them and how his desk was stacked with books.

He sat behind his desk on his chair, spinning in it before he stopped himself when he faced you. "First of all" he started "This is not about Hollys academic developement. She is a wonderful student. She's intelligent, creative, and when she lets herself, she's genuinely engaged with the material." he smiled softly, lifting a bit of weight off your shoulders.

"But!" he lifted his finger "She's struggling, in school and also privately. And I think you already know that." he sighed, looking at you over the rim of his glasses. You nodded while lowering your head, your throat tight. Wow, he probably thought you were the worst mother ever.

Grace cleared his throat "I know this is very personal information that I shouldn't know, but Holly felt safe enough to open up to me, and she told me about her father" Ryland continued, and his voice softened.

"About your divorce, about how she doesn't want to add to your stress because she can see how hard you're working. And I just-" he sighed, not knowing how to phrase his next words "I wanted you to know that I know how much you're actually doing for her and how hard it is. My mom was a single parent, and she sacrificed so much for me. What you're doing? It matters. Even when it doesn't feel like it."

You don't remember exactly when you started crying. You just remembered his hand hesitantly covering yours on the desk, the warmth of it, the way he didn't pull away when you turned your palm up and held on. "I don't know what to do" you admitted, patting away the tears with the handkerchief he gave you "I'm barely keeping us afloat as it is. I can't afford therapy for her, I can't afford tutors, I can't-" you got choked up, excusing yourself with a small voice as you blew your nose.Grace patted your back in sympathy.

"Holly told me a few things about you, aside from telling me she couldn't wish for a better mom" he said with a reassuring smile, hoping to make you feel better. It made you cry even harder, you loved your little girl. She was so mature and understanding, though you wished she didn't have to act like an adult so soon. "She told me you have a degree in literature. There is an opening in the english department, we could really use another english teacher around here." he offered, making you stop in your tracks.

"It would be full time and you'd get better pay than what you are making now. Another benefit is that you could see Holly every day and spend more time with her. The principal practically eats out of my hands" he said, the last statement being more or less true "I could put in a good word for you, if you wanted."

You stared at him, your mouth agape "Why would you do that?" you asked, your voice wobbly, and the urge to pull him into a crushing hug was intense.

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair, and that flush crept up his neck again. "Because I think Holly needs you to have a little less weight on your shoulders. And because-" he paused, his eyes searching yours, and there was something vulnerable there, something raw. "Because I think you deserve someone in your corner." he admitted, giving you a little friendly nudge.

And so started your new, better life just a few weeks later!

While you had been nervous the whole job interview, and you waited for their decision outside the principals office, bouncing your leg. But Grace assured you that you'd get the job. He had been eavesdropping and told you he had fucked up greatly in his job interview back then, and they still hired him. So you shouldn’t worry about a thing, you crushed it.

And he was right, you got the position! Holly wasn't sure about her own mother being her teacher, and that her class would probably bully her even harder now. But when you came in on your first day just two weeks later, it turned out that you were just as cool as Mr. Grace. You were very generous, humorous and you didn't take everything so seriously. She was glad, ad it actually made her life in class a little easier now.

The first person you saw when you finished your first lesson, the stressful weight of fear finally washing off of you, was Mr. Grace. Or Ryland, as you now were allowed to call him.

He leaned against the wall outside your classroom, trying to make it look like it was just a coincidence that he was standing there with two coffees, right when your class ended. It looked painfully awkward, but how could you resist those eyes and his cheeky grin?

"Oh, hi there! I was already wondering when you'd be starting here" he smiled, which was a lie. He knew today was your first day, he had known ever since he snuck into the principals office a week before to look through the application letters and employment contracts. "Bad stage fright?" he asked you then, jogging to catch up with you as you walked to the teachers lounge for your break. "It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, the students are pretty nice so far" you shrugged, smiling at him and his two coffee cups, and it seemed like he only now realised how stupid he looked holding two drinks.

He scrambled to hand you one "Here, got a good luck coffee for you. I didn't know what you liked though" he said sheepishly, licking his lips as he watched you take a generous sip "I got it with cream and sugar. That's how my mom drinks hers. I hope that's okay."

It was perfect. You told him so, and the smile that spread across his face made your heart stutter. And now it became routine. He even complimented the school I.D card you had hanging around your neck, your picture way less embarassing than his. He hated that he had to wear it around, pouting when you laughed at him.

Your timetables matched pretty well, so most of the time, Grace would wait for your class to be over, hand you a coffee and walk with you to the teachers lounge, Cafeteria or just into his empty classroom to chit-chat. Because he was already there before your lesson was over, he would always end his own lessons about 10 minutes early. Which was a delight for the students, but they quickly realised why he was shortening the lessons.

It couldn't have been more obvious- like, *right-in-your-face* obvious, that Mr. Grace appreantly had the hots for the new english teacher.

They saw him walk you to your car, longingly gazing down the street until your car was out of view before saddling up his bike. He used you as an example in his lessons sometimes, he made sure to look neat when you knocked during class to ask for a whiteboard marker, he'd be late to lessons because your great company in the teachers lesson made him forget the time, he started wearing just one specific tie after you had said it looked good on him and the real blow came when you and Grace arrived at school one day, in your car together.

It had been pouring, and you drove past him helplessly riding his bike against the onslaught of rain, his yellow coat doing only so much to keep him dry, and he could barely see the sidewalk in front of him with how wet his glasses got. "Get in, Grace. I'm not letting you ride to school like this!" you yelled over the rain as you rolled down the window.

You had scooped him off the streets like a wet stray kitten and drove him to school, heater on full blast to warm him up. Turns out he had overslept that morning because he stayed up late too grade papers, and he was so warm and cozy in your car that he had a hard time fighting sleep. "You're really nice to me. I don't know why..." he muttered so quietly you almost didn't hear it, his eyes slipping shut every now and then.

Dragging a sleepy Grace out of your toasty car and back into the rain was certainly a task. He had clung to you like a protesting child, and you would have carried him inside if you had the strength. He was so tired he didn't even realise how whiny he was, and how much he was touching you as you made your way inside the school building. He hoped no one saw that.

Practically the whole school saw. And no student would let him live it down.You were the mom of one of his students, one of which who had opened up to him about her trauma and problems and fears, and he didn't have anything better to do than to crush on you. Heavily. And the worst part was that Holly got teased for his simping behavior.

One thing about Grace was that he couldn't shut up when the students asked questions about you. He was the type of teacher you could easily trick into talking about his personal life and experiences than doing actual teaching until the bell rang, and Grace would be damned if he lost an opportunity to talk about you, praise your knowledge and skill and maybe letting it slip that he finds you very pretty, but that was one time! And very vague!

But it was enough for everyone to whisper and laugh about it to Holly. Some of her new friends actually thought it was pretty sweet, that you and Grace would make a cute couple, others didn't care, and her bullys made fun of her as if she could control what two adult people felt for each other.

You were way more subtle with your attraction to Grace, but just as obvious to his massive crush on you. If students were bold enough to ask you about it, you always declined any feelings. You were just colleagues, friends even.

No one was convinced, especially Holly.

You didn't know how to tell her that you were terrified of ruining the fragile peace you had built, of making things weird for her, of being rejected by a man who could have anyone he wanted and knew as much.

Every time you saw Ryland across the hall, every time he leaned close to show you something on his laptop and you caught the scent of his cologne, every time he laughed at one of your jokes and his eyes crinkled at the corners, you wanted him so badly it ached. But you held back. You both did. What else were you supposed to do, really? You didn't even know if the school allowed relationships between teachers, and you weren't about to go and ask. It would complicate so many things, you were sure, so you and Grace remained friends for the forseeable future.

And you were content with that at first. At least you had him in your life, right? And it quickly became clear that Holly was finally doing better, thanks to Grace telling you about this free spot at the school, which was everything you needed to be happy. You had more time with her, you vere able to drive her to school and pick her up, you could finally pay for a very kind therapist that helped her along, though it had already put her more at ease now that you didn't have to worry about being kicked out of the apartment because you couldn't pay rent in time. She also had her fair share of friends now soon going into 9th grade, and her grades changed for the better as well. You were so proud of your little girl for pulling through.

You never thought you'd be here, listening to Grace telling you about some experiment that went wrong when he tried to show off a simple baking soda volcano, but it erupted onto the ceiling tiles, that you'd complain about the students 'modern' interpretation of Romeo and Juliet, and that you and Grace would always be elected to chaperone on school trips because you handled the classes so well together (or maybe because you volunteered)

It was fun, really fun, even though you never planned to become a teacher.

You also never planned to fall in love with your colleague and to ignore your feelings in hopes they would disappear over time, which they didn't. Not by a fraction.

The whispers of students about your relationship also didn't disappear, but you and Grace also did nothing to stop it. You could say it was your fault, because you'd feed him with pieces of your leftovers you had brought for lunch because you couldn't watch him eat his sad sandwich, which was just dry turkey wedged between two untoasted whitebread slices, and a bag of baby carrots. You didn't even try to hide it with how wide open his classroom door was, and every student walking past would look inside without fail, hurrying along with a giggle.

And despite all the rumors, and how you did spend every minute together that you could, you actually saw other people. Or at least tried to, as it didn't seem to go too well for either of you.

You didn't really talk about it, probably because it was too painful to know the other wasn't interested like you hoped. Which was far from the truth, your dates simply didn't work out because deep down, you both knew you wanted to go on a date with each other, not with a random person off of tinder.

It was almost embarassing how relieved you were when he assured you that the guy you had seen in a karaoke bar with your friends that looked like the spitting image of him wasn't actual him, but his twin brother Colt, and that the woman laying in his arms wasn't his girlfriend, but Colts girlfriend Jody.

God, you had to get yourself together. This whole thing was really starting to mess with you. You had to confess somehow or you'd combust, but your fear of getting rejected, of destroying whatever relationship you had already built with him held you back.

And while you and Grace mainly taught 8 to 9th grade, you had your fair share of lessons in the higher grades as well, such as the ones that would graduate shortly. They had invited you and Grace to the ceremony, which happened today, and after you picked him up with your car, good god- your knees turned to jelly and you almost threw yourself at him right there.

He wore a dark pinstripe suit, fitted around the waist, polished black leather shoes and a bright red dress shirt underneath that maybe had one too many buttons undone, but you weren't about to complain one bit because- fuck, you always wanted to see what was hidden beneath his button up.

"You look very good, Mr. Grace" you smiled, trying to busy yourself with watching the traffic so he wouldn't see you blush. Ryland on the other hand hadn't stopped staring at you with an open mouth ever since he got into your car.

"You look...I mean- stunning. You always do but, wow" he brought out after he was finally able to close his mouth, and well, if he wasn't being incredibly obvious right now, he didn't know what he was.

You giggled gently, shaking your head "Don't let the kids know you said that, they're going to have a field day. It's bad enough that we arrive in the same car" you smiled, curving down the road to the venue.

You were greeted by nervous students and their parents, and the graduation went by in a blur of excitement.

You sat a row behind Ryland next to other teachers and lecturers, watching his side profile, the way his eyes were shining in the dim light of the venue, and how he teared up at the headmasters speech to the students, how they had completed another step in life, and that possibilities were endless, even though he heard it every year.

Like the first day you met him, you didn't pay attention to anything but him. You smiled when he smiled, clapped when he clapped, and wished you had an assigned seat next to his.

After every student had gotten their diploma and a heavy round of applause, the students had also planned a speech to thank their teachers, especially Mr. Grace, and you were probably cheering the loudest when he was honored by the whole class and guests.

The students took over the rest of the night then.A dance group of students performed various acts and shows for the guests, they had prepared a funny video about how every day school life was like with various teachers, a montage of memes that made no sense to anyone over 25, but you had plenty of fun with it anyway.

They also didn't forget to be interactive- so they had made a quiz in which the teachers had to guess their own quotes and the ones of their colleagues. The whole room bursted out laughing when the quote 'How the fudge do you spell toast?' was ultimatively revealed to have been said by Grace, who then buried his face in his hands, his ears red, but you could see the smile he was trying to hide.

Then came these joke awards the students had prepared for other students and teachers. Students got these little plastic trophies that reminded you of a cheap looking oscar in categories like "Always sleeps during class", "Never did their homework", "Class clown" and more.

It was funny how serious they took the moderation, and how they made everyone come up to the stage to collect their price with applause and cheers.

And while it was funny to see your colleagues going up the stage with an exaggerated bow as they took their awards with a smile, even in the less nicer categories like "Always gives homework over holidays" or "Strictest teacher", when the student at the mic suddenly looked at you with a smirk, you knew you were done for.

"And now for the category you've all been waiting for, ladies and gentlemen! You know, the best things come last, and our last award for the night is....the 'Love Birds' award!"

Applause rang through the hall while you felt the blood drain from your face. Grace almost broke his neck as he snapped around to look at you with wide eyes, accompanied by the stares of all the other students in the crowd who knowingly giggled at you two. "Oh god" you whispered, covering your face in embarrassement as you knew what was to come.

The students behind the mic laughed "I think our winners for this award already know that it's them" they chuckled and so did the whole room.

When you peeked through your fingers, there was Ryland still looking at you, a fond smile on his face that made your heart flutter. It made you feel like you were the only person in the room. He extended his hand out to you over the back of his seat, waiting for your fingers to wrap around his before he looked back at the stage.

"I'm very happy to welcome our favourite almost-teacher-couple up to the stage-" and then they yelled your and Rylands name, cheers, whistles and applaus erupting around you.

Grace looked back at you with that cute boyish grin, a blush dusting his cheeks, and he stood up, pulling you up with him, holding your hand over the heads of people that made up his row, shuffling between legs and the backs of other seats before you reached the walkway to the stage.

Your palm was clammy, his was warm and steady. You covered your mouth as you laughed- this felt like you were walking down the aisle to your wedding. And maybe you wished that was the case.

Grace led you up the steps, letting you get up the stage first like a true gentleman, making sure you didn't step on your dress with your heels, and pointing at you with a smile which only made the crowd cheer louder. You and Ryland were handed two plastic oscar trophies glued together, but instead of them holding a crusaders sword, the students had taped a plastic heart into their hand which they painted gold. It was cute, but you wanted to sink into the floor.

As if a sudden wave of confidence had hit Grace, he put his hand around your waist, grinning into the crowd and holding the award with you, pulling you forward into a deep theatrical bow, before coming back up to hold you close against his side.

He thanked the students for the award into the mic, and when you got ready to leave the stage, he actually leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

The auditorium lost its mind. You felt his lips linger for half a second longer than necessary, felt the heat of his face against yours, and when he pulled back, his eyes were soft and full of something you never dared to name. You couldn't even remember how you got back to your seat.

After the students opened the dancefloor, buffet and bar for the guests, you were pulled into the photobooth by the young girls that all wanted a picture with one of their favourite teachers.

At first it was fun, until they pulled Grace into the mix as well, chanting for you to kiss, or for Grace to look at you all in love- which was actual just the default look he had when gazing at you.

You put some of the photostrips where Grace was especially close to you, the one where he had a fake rose between his teeth and pointing fingerguns at you with a wink while you acted like you were rejecting him but could barely hold off your smile, into your bag and sighed as you nipped at your fruit punch, watching the students dance in their pretty dresses and suits.

It wasn't long before you were pulled to the dancefloor by the same girls that forced you into the picturebooth, and you giggled as Grace tried- and failed- to do the moonwalk to a Michael Jackson song the DJ was playing.

Over the hours, more and more students, parents and teachers left the venue and the party wounded down naturally.

You remembered Holly, and while she and her friend Jessica had a sleepover at your place today, and you had bought enough drinks and cooked enough food for them to be completely fine, you didn't want to leave them alone the whole night. And your feet were swollen and achy by now anyway, so you limped across the dancefloor to find Ryland, asking if he was fine with leaving now.

Outside the air was chilly, the sky an inky black and the parking lot was nearly empty under the flickering lamplights. You cursed that you had parked at the very far back, as your feet were throbbing from these stupid impractical heels, and every step was pure agony. Grace was way faster than you since you wobbled and limbed, trying to match his pace without wincing.

"You okay?" he asked as he noticed you weren't walking beside him, watching you stumble on your feet like a newborn giraffe.

"My feet are killing me" you admitted, stopping to lift one foot after the other for a few seconds each to take the pressure off of your heel "I knew I should've brought flats."

After looking at you with a mix of amusement and pity, he went over to you, and scooped you up into his arms, one hand beneath your legs, the other at your back. You let out a surprised yelp, your hands flying around his neck as if you'd fall to your death if he dropped you. "What are you doing?!" you shrieked.

"Carrying you" he smiled, his voice matter-of-fact, but also the tiniest bit slurred. Guess he had a bit too much of that fruit punch "Your feet hurt and I'm just trying to help" he grinned, walking over the parking lot to your car, the warm light of the lamp illuminating his face beautifully.

"You're going to throw your back out." you simply stated, but you couldn't hold back your smile that mimicked his, and you relaxed in his arms. "That's fine with me. Then I'll drop you and we'll both land in the ER, but at least we're together" oh now he was being very corny, but it warmed something in your chest anyway.

"My brother broke his back once" he said after a while of silently walking, having almost reached your car. You huffed out a gasp at that, and gave his collar a tug "Now that's not a romantic thing to say" you teased and he looked at you with newfound hope in his eyes. "...you think this is romantic?" he asked you, and the lamplight caught in his glasses, reflecting like hearts.

You leaned in closer, your heart beating in your throat, and you played with the golden accents on his suitjacket just so you didn't have to look at him. "...maybe." you muttered, and you felt his own heartbeat quicken beneath your palm.

When you reached the car, you didn't even want him to put you down, and when he ultimatively did so to let you get into the drivers seat, it took everything in you to not look disappointed.

When he got in next to you, you didn't start the engine right away. Instead your fingers tapped the stearing wheel and you gnawed at your bottom lip, and Grace didn't push. He was content just sitting in the car with you, even though you said you wanted to get back to Holly. You swallowed and finally said what you'd been thinking all night.

"Ryland…I hope the whole 'love birds' thing didn't freak you out. I mean, kids just see stuff. They don't understand that we're just, you know..." the word 'friends' got stuck in your throat because, were you really just that? "I can take the trophy if you want. You can just forget that this happened tonight"

He turned to look at you then, really look at you, and his eyes were dark and serious behind his lenses. "What if those awards weren't just jokes?

Your breath caught in your throat, a blush creeping up your neck "What?"

He swallowed thickly, pushing up his glasses "What if the students are just painfully right?" he asked and leaned closer, one hand coming up to rest on the center console, his fingers inches from yours. "What if I've been waiting for an excuse to do this all year?"

He didn't wait for an answer. He leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn't gentle, nor was it soft. It was hungry, desperate from holding back for so long. His hand cupped the back of your neck, long fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you closer. You gasped against his lips, and he took the opportunity to thrust his tongue into your mouth, sliding against yours, tasting of cheap punch and salty snacks. You kissed him back with equal fervor, your hands grabbing his shirt, yanking him across the gear shift until he was half in your lap, his weight pressing you into the seat.

"Ryland-" you breathed, gasping as his clothed knee slipped between your legs, pressing down against your heated core.

"God I've wanted you to moan my name like that since forever" he whimpered, deeply inhaling as he nudged to kiss you again, his nose squishing against your cheek. Your fingers crawled into his hair, feeling the stiff gel he had used to style it all spiky and handsome today. "Tell me to stop" he begged against your lips. "Tell me this is a bad idea, and I'll stop. We'll drive home, and I'll never talk about it ever again"

You physically could not tell him no, instead you pulled his glasses off and set them carefully on the dashboard, then kissed him again, harder this time. He groaned, low and deep "But...but what about Holly? Isn't this going to be weird for her-" he started, but you shut him up with another kiss, your hands slipping beneath the open collar of his red shirt, feeling up his tits with a squeeze that had him moaning against you. "I love my little girl, but I want to be selfish just this once" you whispered into his mouth, and the whine he let out made you clench around nothing.

He was more than happy to respect your decision, and his hands found your thighs, sliding up under the skirt of your dress. The fabric bunched around your waist, and he broke the kiss with a disbelieving curse, looking down at you to confirm what he already felt with his fingers- you weren't wearing any underwear.

"Oh god- really? You're not-" he sputtered out, his eyes wide and pupils blown, and you nodded with a cheeky grin, biting your bottom lip. He groaned deeply, his forehead falling to your shoulders "I can't...did you plan this to happen?" he asked, his breathing picking up as he circled your exposed clit with the slick gathering at your hole.

You mewled, your hips bucking into his hands "I hoped it would happen" you shrugged breathlessly, giggling at him as a soft grin spread across his face. "I did too..." he muttered, his brows furrowing in pleasure as your pussy gushed, a slick sounds reaching his ears as he played with your eager cunt that hadn't been touched like this by another person in years.

"Then what are you waiting for? Fuck me, Ryland. I want you to fuck me right now-" you yelped as he moved quickly, sliding out of the driver's seat and pulling you with him out of the car so you could get into the back. The seats were cramped, but neither of you cared. He sat you down on the leather, hiking up your skirt to cup your pussy again, slipping his fingers into your hole.

He knelt between your legs on the floor of the car, his free handworking at his belt to free himself just enough for his cock to be out. You saw him in the dim light of the streetlamps, hard and long, the tip glistening. He was bigger than you expected, and your mouth went dry, but your pussy just got more wet around his fingers.

"Well, if you hoped this would happen, you must have condoms somewhere, right?" He asked, looking around the car to check for some condoms beneath your dashboard, but you stopped him.

"I don't have one" you whimpered, your eyes fluttering shut as his fingers found such a good spot to move against, but you almost cried out in protest as he stopped his hand in shock.

"What? I- we can't, what if I-" he stuttered, the thought of putting a baby in you both arousing and terrifying. "I don't care" you replied, moving your hips against his hand to make him finger you again "I don't care, please!" you whined, too desperate to feel this again- feeling full, being flodded with warm, hot cum.

He hesitated for half a second, his eyes searching yours, but you could tell how much he wanted this from how much his cock was throbbing and leaking "Are you sure?" he gulped as your pussy clenched around his fingers as if screaming yes.

"I want you inside me" you pressed out eagerly up to pull him by his collar, drawing him down to you. "I want to feel you. I want you to cum in me. Please, I need it" you almost cried in desperation, his fingers slipping from your cunt to spread your thighs, which instantly went to circle his hips.

That was all it took for him to snap. He closed the small gap between you to kiss you, tongues tangling sloppily, and then he was positioning himself at your entrance, the tip pressing against you, and you moaned into his mouth as he pushed inside.

He filled you completely in slow strokes, and your mouth hung open at the sensation of being stretched, of being full, of being taken after so many years of longing for it, but having more important things and problems to deal with than searching for a one night stand, though you really hoped this wasn't just a fling from being tipsy off of fruit punch.

You arched into him, quickly shrugging off his suit jacket so you could dig your nails into his shoulders through his shirt. Grace stilled with a groan as he bottomed out, his head hanging between his arms, his hands shaking on either side of you. "You feel..." he panted, the sound choked as you squeezed his dick tightly "I don't think I will last, it's been so long and I- oh god, I'm inside you, shit" he drew out his last word as your nails raked down his back.

"It's okay, I feel like I could cum from this alone too" you assured him with a sexed out face. Just the steady throbbing of him against your sweet spot had your eyes crossing. Fuck, has it always felt this good to be filled? Was it Ryland sheer size, or your desperation that made every nerve in you tingle? Maybe both. "Please just, just move-" you hiccuped and he did so with a relieved sigh.

He moved slowly at first, letting you adjust, but the rhythm quickly dissolved into something more frantic when you impatiently met his shallow thrusts. He pulled out almost entirely and slammed back in, and the sound, wet and obscene, echoed in the small space, the car jolting with his thrusts.

"Yes!" you gasped, your thighs quivering around his hips "Right there, fuck-! Don't stop!" you squealed, every thrust against your swollen cervix so intense it bordered on pain.

"God, you feel so good" he grunted, his forehead pressed to yours, his breath hot and ragged, drool slipping from his open mouth into yours, and you moaned at the taste. Your tongue lolled out and you chased his mouth with it, pulling him into a wet kiss, lips smacking against the other. "Mhmm, so damn tight, oh god baby" he almost wheezed against your mouth. You tangled your fingers in his hair and yanked hard. He let out a low groan, a desperate whimper, and his hips stuttered against your sweet spot. "Again" he begged. "Pull my hair again."

You did, even harder this time, tugging at his dirty blonde strands and he drove into you with renewed force, his mouth never leaving yours. The car rocked on its suspension, windows fogging up with the heat of your bodies. When you reached against the window for something to hold onto, your handprint smearing the condensation across the glass, and he reached between you and found your clit, pressing and circling in time with his thrusts, and you cried out against his lips, your hand slipping down to grip the handle on the inside of the car door.

He fucked you within an inch of your life on the backseat, your eyes close to crossing with how good it felt "Look at you" he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he pulled away from your mouth to admire you- your sweat tousled your styled hair, your tits were spilling out of your dress, and your necklaces were all twisted and tangled. You were so pretty, even more than he could have imagined late at night in his lonesome apartment, fisting himself through his boxers.

"You're taking me so well." he whined as he watched his dick disappear inside you with a sloppy plap plap plap over and over again, your pussy parting greedily to take him "So beautiful like this. I've been in love with you for months and I was losing my god damn mind trying to tell you without scaring you away" he rasped, his thumb on your clit starting to tremble.

Your pussy pulsed so wildly around him he couldn't help but squeeze his eyes shut tightly. It felt like he was about to pass out if you kept doing that. "I would....I'd wake up hard and, and imagine what it would be like to have you...u-underneath me." He almost hiccuped, and he took one of your legs to bend it over his shoulder as much as your flexibility allowed, driving himself even deeper into you.

He hit spots you didn't know existed, or that they could be reached, and your back bowed off the seat "Fuck, Ryland-!" you screamed, wanting to warn him about your orgasm, but that wave of pleasure broke over you before you could get the words out.

You clenched around him, your vision going white, and you heard yourself yelling his name as you came.

Grace made a choked noise as you suddenly got even tighter, preventing him from pulling out- and he followed a second later, his hips slamming against you, his release hot and pulsing inside you. He kept moving, grinding deeply to squeeze out every drop into your greedy pussy until he collapsed on top of you, his weight a hot, sweaty comfort.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing mingling in your proximity. His lips pressed soft kisses to your shoulder where the strap of your dress had slipped down your arm, placing kisses anywhere he could reach without having to move away from you. You tangled your fingers in his hair again, sighing as his lips brushed over your skin, featherlight.

He pulled out with a soft huff, and you felt his cum trickle down your thigh, and it made you squirm softly with a smile. He sat down next to, putting himself back into his pants and wrapping his pinstripe jacket around your shoulders as he noticed you shivering.

You stayed there in the back seat for a while, cuddled up next to each other after you had fumbled with your clothes and tried to look presentable again, in the unlikely case someone would knock on your car. You didn't care that you two had probably ruined the leather seats of your car, or that you had to be back in school in less than 10 hours for an important weekend conference you already dreaded.

You were just content with the weight of him, and the way he looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Only when Ryland reminded you why you wanted to leave the party in the first place, which was Holly, you reluctantly left his side to get out of the car to get into the drivers seat.

"So" you said as you started the car, looking to the passenger seat, your legs trembling as you pushed the pedals and drove out of the parking lot. "The students surely were right."

He laughed, a breathless sound, and lifted his head to look at you. "They're going to be insufferable when they find out we're official now" He laughed, sighing deeply as he looked out the window, the city flying by.

You smiled at his side profile, the slight curve in his nose, and how his glasses captured all the neon street signs.

"I think they already know"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I don't know why I always get so invested in writing plot for this stuff, can you catch all the rygos movie references/easter eggs I put into this?💜

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I also wanted to apologize to anyone who was rightfully offended and hurt by my last post, which i already took down. Im very sorry and will be more mindful of what i post in the future! Tumblr doesn't delete reblogs, even if the fanfic has been deleted. So to everyone who reblogged that fic, please delete the reblogs, thank you!

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He had accidentally snagged his beloved blanket on a nail today, the hardened rust ripping a few stitches, and the more he moved it, the more the yarn untangled itself, the delicate wave pattern coming undone.

Lars had cried like it was the end of the world until Karin recommended him this new tailoring shop in town, and that she had heard the owner was a very lovely and kind lady. He practically flew into his car, speeding down the road to find the cozy store tucked away in a quiet corner of the small wisconsin town, snow piling up on the roof.

Luckily, the lights were on, and the sign on the door read 'open'. This was his last hope.

The little bell above your shop door chimed, a cheerful sound that always made you look up from whatever you were working on with a smile. And how could you not? After years and years of dreaming and saving up, you were finally able to call this little nook your own shop.

So as a person stepped inside, you felt that familiar flutter of excitement. A customer. Your customer!

It was a tall, soft looking man, draped in a plush winter jacket and clutching something to his chest like it was a wounded animal. He was handsome, cute even. He had a fine-boned, round face and a dusting of chestnut brown sat atop of his head, his mustache matching the colour of his hair. His eyes were wide, pale blue, darting around the shop as if he expected a trap to swallow him up.

"Welcome in!" you said, setting down your scissors as you cut pieces from some burgundy fabric "What can I help you with today, sir?"

He shuffled forward to the register, his broad shoulders hunched. "I- uh, I need to get something fixed" his voice was soft, almost a whisper, and he held out the bundle in his arms. It was a blanket, baby blue, knitted out of thin and delicate yarn and clearly throughouly loved, but equally treasured to make sure it remained in tact.

You gently took it from him, noticing how he pulled back his hand before your fingers could touch his. You let the fabric slip between your fingers with a soft frown before you found a tear, the stitches jagged and ripped.

The man in front of you wrung with his hands as you assessed the damage. "I'll pay whatever you want, just...just repair it. Please" he practically begged you. You softly smiled at him, this clearly was no ordinary scarf. "Sounds like this is very important to you, if you want to get it fixed so badly" you said, your head tilting to encourage him to satisfy your curiosity.

His mouth stretced into a vertical line and he blinked harshly, two times, before he took a breath to answer "My mom made it for me...before I was born" he muttered, and you were about to say 'aww', when he continued, wiping any joyous expression off your face "She died when I was born, so..." he smiled gently, as if this wasn't a devestating fate at all.

You looked back down at the blanket in your hands. You could see the careful, even stitches of a woman who had poured all her love into every row. A mother knitting for a child she would never hold. It almost made you tear up, but you swallowed that down. "I can fix this" you said softly "It's a simple pattern and stitching, I'll make it barely noticeable. Give me about two days."

He lit up at your statement "Thank you" he breathed, as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He patted down his thick jacket for his wallet "How much?"

You leaned forward and pressed your hand against his clothed forearm, and while he flinched for a second, the pressure of it was oddly...comforting? How were you doing that? "Let's see how it turns out first." You smiled with a little wink, and he seemed to relax a fraction.

Two days later he returned as if those 48 hours had him greatly distressed, like waiting for a sick loved one to come out of a complicated surgery. You seemingly had awaited him as well, smilling widely when his adorable, awkward nature filled your shop. "Ah! Mr. Lindstrom was it, right?" you pointed at him to which he nodded timidly. You had actually remembered his name days ago when he told you. He felt warm inside, but he blamed it on the heat from the lit fireplace in your store.

"Just give me a second!" you called out to him and he made himself comfortable on one of the plush chairs that surrounded the fireplace, watching you count through various letters before finding the letter 'L' on top of your shelf.

You climbed up, sorted through a few finished orders and custom pieces until you found his, the one labeled with 'Lindstrom', and retrieved it with a giddy smile. You didn't want to admit it, but you probably had never worked as diligently and careful as you had done for this piece. You just wanted to make it perfect.

He jumped up from his seat, brushing back his hair and dusting off his jacket as if this was a special event. You giggled softly at his antics. He was very intriguing, you had to admit.

You then handed him the repaired scarf. The tear was invisible unless you knew where to look, the yarn you had chosen a perfect colour match to the original one.

He held it up, craddling it in his big hands, his fingers tracing the spot, and his eyes went watery. Your heart clenched in your chest, fearing he didn't like it and you just ruined the precious memory of his mother. "You...don't like it?" you whispered and his head shot up, his round, teary eyes searching yours "Oh, no it's- it's perfect. Looks very good" he nodded with a jerk of his head, clearly not being great in showing his gratitude and excitement visually. But you didn't mind, you knew it meant a lot when he said it like that.

He went to wrap it around his neck like a scarf. It was a very cute way to still use and honor the blanket, even though he couldn't be swaddled up tighly in it anymore.

His hand dipped into his pockets then, reaching for his wallet "How much-" he started, but you held up your hand and shook your head. "It's on the house. I couldn't take money for something that is so dear to you, especially since it was a gift from your mom. I'm not going to make you pay for it now"

Lars just stared at you then, his soft pink lips slightly ajar, something shifting in his expression. A kind of awe, or maybe gratitude so deep it looked like pain, you weren't sure "You don't have to-" he said, shaking his head in disbelieve, but you just smiled at him. "I want to." you assured him, smoothing out the blanket over his chest "Really."

He swallowed, his cheeks glowing red under the dim light of your shop. He could barely feel your touch through the many layers of clothing he wore, but it made something in his chest flutter nonetheless "Thank you." he breathed, his ears starting to match the colour of his face.

As much as you would have liked, you were sure this wouldn't get deeper than that. He would leave, and you'd never see him again. Maybe a few glimpses around town, but that would be it.

And at first you thought you were right. A week passed with no sign of him. You tried not to let it affect your mood- he had just been another customer! And yet, you felt like there was more to him, and you wanted to see him again. No, you didn't just want to see him, you wanted to get to know him better.

Then one afternoon, he appeared again, holding the puffy jacket he wore last time under his arm. Timidly, he showed you a ripped seam under the arm.

"I was...uhm, chopping wood and moved a bit too much" he explained, blinking harshly. You laughed, and it surprised him into a half smile "You chop wood?" you asked then and he nodded, all shy and sweet. God, he looked very cute today, very cuddly with the many layers he wore. "Yeah, I'm pretty good at it" he said proudly, softly puffing out his chest as you took the jacket from him to assess the damage. "I bet you are" you smiled, counting how many stitches had ripped open.

He blinked, nodding at you, his heart beating faster in his chest for a reason he couldn't name. "You should watch me some time" he suggested, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his sleeve.

You looked up from the jacket in your hand to find him standing there all nervous, and it made something flutter in the lower parts of your stomach "I'd love to. But first, I gotta fix this jacket so you can really get back to it" you winked, opening a drawer to fish out a needle "It's an easy fix. Come, make yourself comfortable" you gestured to your cozy sofa next to the fireplace "It'll take ten minutes."

He just nodded and settled on your little couch, tensed, as if he wasn't supposed to be there, while you threaded a needle with matching yarn.

While Lars was busy admiring your simple shop and the fabrics rolled up on high shelves, you were able to take a better look at him. He was wearing a nice sweater, a shirt peeking out at the collar. It was a bit worn, lumpy at the shoulders, but he looked soft and warm and somehow out of place in his own skin. You almost wanted to coo.

"Do you have someone in your family who knits, then?" you asked while you worked, vaguely gesturing to his clothes.

"Uh, yeah, I had. My grandma knitted most of my sweaters. She died years ago though..." he told you, yet again like it was the most normal thing in the world, throwing you a tight lipped smile, while you could only watch in pity. He twisted his hands in his lap. "I like sweaters. They're cozy." he muttered, trying to lighten the mood.

You nodded at Lars, pulling your string tight before looping it back through the fabric "I can see that. They suit you." You smiled gently as he blushed at your compliment.

"I do custom work, you know." you shrugged, biting your lips in concentration. It was a good look on you, and Lars couldn't avert his eyes. "I could make you one that fits perfectly. Not that the oversized look isn't cute but I thought, maybe, you'd like a sweater that isn't all stretched and loose" you muttered, and you couldn't believe you just called him cute like that. God, you surely just scared him off!

His eyes grew wide "Really?"You turned from your work to look back at him, only to find him already watching you "Really. I'd give you a discount, since you're such a nice customer."

He blushed, the beautiful colour creeping up his neck. "That's- I don't know what to say." he admitted, munching on his bottom lip while trying to hide a bashful smile from you. You tied a quick knot as you finished stitching up the hole in the jacket, cutting off the excess yarn. "Say yes, and I'll take your measurements."

Lars was hesistant, mostly because he didn't want to flinch when your touch would ultimatively burn him and make you feel bad about it, but how could he say no when you looked at him like that?

He nodded gently and you got to work. The measuring was as delicate as you could make it. You had come to the conclusion yourself that he might not like to be touched by basically strangers, or maybe he didn't like to be touched at all. Either way was fine. You still had to make him take off the sweater, keeping him in only a very light pink long sleeve, so you could take measures as accurately as possible without making him even more uncomfortable than he already was.

You used your most flexible and soft tape, so he barely felt it over his clothes, and you made sure not to touch him more than necessary, though you noticed how he tensed when your fingers brushed his chest, his waist or his arms, even though you were extra careful. He held his breath when you measured his shoulders. Not because of pain, but because your fleeting touches left a weird but pleasent tingling sensation.

"There" you said proudly, after walking back and forth between Lars and a table to write down his measurements "I'll try to have it ready in about two weeks" you informed him and two weeks later, he returned on time for the sweater.

You had chosen a rich, warm brown wool, soft as a cloud, and knit it with slightly dropped shoulders and a generous fit that would hug his midsection without clinging too much. When he pulled it on over his head, the fabric settled against him like it was made for him- well, because it was, but seeing it fit him like this really made it clear. He looked down at himself in awe, running his large hands over the sleeves, the chest and the hem, tracing the pattern you had made with darker wool.

"That's a nice sweater" he nodded to you with a smile, his whole face scrunching up when he did it. Oh he looked so cuddly and warm, it made your heart ache in your chest, and all you wanted was to sink into his arms because it looked like the most cozy place in the universe "I'm glad you like it."

He wore it everywhere. He wouldn't take it off for days on end, he slept in it just to smell the scent of your shop, and he wouldn’t leave the house if he had to wash the garment. It became his comfort sweater, much like his little blanket was a great comfort to him. The combination of wearing both was unmatched. After Karin told him, very nicely, that he might want to look for other sweaters to wear, as the town surely thought he wasn't washing his clothes, he decided to have you make more.

But Lars being Lars, he purposefully ripped or cut some of his older clothes so you could fix them, claiming he had snagged them somewhere or that Gus' cat got them, a cat which Gus didn't have, but you didn’t have to know about that, just so he didn't directly have to tell you he wanted another sweater.

It quickly became obvious he searched for excuses to see you, waiting for you to suggest another handmade sweater of yours for him. He would feel less of a burden if you got the idea of making a second sweater for him instead of him specifically asking for one. You were surely busy, with you being the only seamstress in town.

Oh, he could never be a burden

So soon you made him another, and another. He quickly became a regular, sometimes just dropping by to say hello, to sit on your couch and watch you work while you talked about anything and nothing. It was mostly just you two, and you enjoyed the company greatly, rather than listening to the radio all day just so you wouldn't feel all alone. You learned a lot about each other, you about his family and what he did for work- him about where you were from and how long you've been sewing.

Conversation flowed fairily easy with Lars, something you hadn't expected, but when he was comfortable enough, he could be quite the chatterer.

He became the highlight of your day. He'd bringt drinks and snacks to your shop after work, knowing you often forgot to take breaks and eat when you were hands deep in a project, especially when you had procastinated it for a while and it had to be finished in a few days. In those times, he always made sure to pull you out of it for a moment, have you take a breather to clear your head before you continued.

One day he even let you take pictures of him modelling your early spring collection, his face visible from his mustache down and ending at his thighs to showcase the longsleeves, hoodies, jacket and sweaters you made for your storefront window. It was perfect, and you could have kissed him right there, even though he would argue he looked silly or you should have hired a professional. Which was bullshit, you liked it like this, having him in your shop even though he wasn't there, and while he wouldn't admit it- Lars felt honored and...proud that you wanted him out of all people to model for you.

Everything was going well, your relationship, whatever this was, blooming between you like the flowers in early spring breaking through the thick snow blankets.

Then Mark came in.

He often did, he was one of your regulars as well, just usually not when Lars was there.

Mark was a very successful lawyer. He was tall and clean shaven, his hair slicked back to perfection, pearly white veneers glinting when he'd smile, and his lean but toned body clad in expensive and hand tailored suits- which is the reason why he was here. He needed a new one for a case abroad, pinstriped and fitted at the waist with shoulder paddings.

He always tipped well and complimented your work, and you liked him well enough as a customer. Back then, he was in your class in high school, the guy who had every girl wrapped around his finger. Well, except for you. When he noticed that, he desperately tried to make you change your mind, even though you were sure he didn't even want you that way, like at all. He just wanted to reassure himself that no woman was able to withstand his charm.

Maybe he was still bitter about the fact that he never managed to get you into bed with him, which was why he still sought you out, even in this small wisconsin town. But how could you care if you made about 2500$ plus a fat tip whenever he visited?

Lars came from your office in the back where he had managed your emails like he did at work, just one of the ways he tried to make up for all the cheap or free of charge clothes you had made him the past months.

So when he saw you kneeling in front of a random mans crotch, pinning his trouser hem, he turned into a statue. His jaw was tight as he watched you. He knew the things you had to do for your job, but seeing this guy all arrogant and smug while practically shoving his crotch into your face made him feel sick to the stomach.

Marks gaze landed on a dumbfounded Lars then, his carved brows furrowing "Didn't know you had a little helper around here" he nearly growled, staring Lars down as if he was his sworn enemy.

You jumped softly, standing up straight again, your cheeks flushed that Lars had found you in such a compromising position. "Mark" you said, clearing your throat "This is Lars. He helps me out sometimes" you explained, then gestured over to Mark, looking at Lars with a forced smile "Lars, this is Mark. He is a lawyer and often comes to me for custom suits"

Mark extended a hand. "What a pleasure to meet you...Lars" he smirked, his voice carrying a hint of disgust as he said Lars' name.

Lars puffed out his chest, squaring his shoulders and his chin held high. He reached forward to shake Marks hand with a strength that made the lawyer flinch in surpise. The touch burned Lars more than usual, probably matching the anger brewing in his chest, but he held Marks intense gaze as if trying to assert dominance and impress you, even if it meant pain.

Your mouth was agape at Lars' behavior, especially knowing how agonizing touch could be for him. Yet he shook hands with Mark, as if he was jealous. No, Lars wasn't jealous, was he? Sometimes stirred in your gut, your thighs pressing together.

Mark cleared his throat, his ego clearly bruised as he wiped his hands on his dress shirt. "You know, you could use a suit, buddy. A sweater isn't exactly...classy" Mark chuckled, eyeing Lars up and down, to which Lars faux confident facade finally broke. He blinked harshly and brushed past you to get his jacket. "Lars-" you started and reached for him, but he had already put on his jacket, not throwing you another glance in fear to see your disappointment of him tucking his tail between his legs.

With a pressed out "I have to go" he was gone.

You were sure he'd return tomorrow. He always did, right? Your chest felt heavy throughout the whole fitting with Mark, your thoughts drifting back to Lars- so much so you sometimes accidentally pricked Mark with a bobby pin as you secured a hem for later stitching.

Lars didn't come back for two weeks.

You waited until you couldn't anymore, closing down your shop way too early today to drive to his house and check up on him.

The afternoon was gray, threatening snow, and you stood on his porch, if you could even call it that, knocking on the flimsy garage door until your knuckles ached. The curtain twitched at the window next to the door before it creaked open, as if he had watched you while you knocked desperately in hopes you'd leave, before realising you weren't going to give up, so it was only fair to answer the door.

"What do you want?" he asked you through a small crack in the door, his eyes tired and red rimmed.

"I want to talk" you urged "Please"

It took him a few moments, gently sniffling and blinking hard, before he looked down at his feet with a nod and let you push open the door further to let yourself in.

His little garage house was neat but sparse. He had a bed in the corner, a little desk, a small kitchenette and an adjacent room with a toilet and shower. He had the baby blue scarf around his neck as if to comfort himself by smelling it. "You've been avoiding me" you said, crossing your arms over his chest.

Lars huffed "No I haven't", the apples of his cheeks puffing out softly.

You cocked a brow "Lars. I'm not stupid." you pressed on impatiently, your gaze so intense it made Lars feel bare and laid out before you, even though he was wearing so many layers. He suddenly got the strong urge to go outside and chop wood.

He turned away so he wouldn't have to endure your stare "Shouldn’t you be with Mark? He probably needs your help or wants to look at you like you're a work of art and..." and you are one, he wanted to add, but didn't. Instead he shut his eyes tightly as if waiting for a painful blow.

Your eyes grew wide in shock "He looks at me like I'm something he can buy with money! He can fuck off with his stupid suit requests and his money if it means you'll come back to me" you said, your voice cracking.

"You don't really care about me, no one does. You just feel sorry for me, that's all. But I don't want that" it surprised even him that his voice didn't wobble when he said it, and now it hung heavy in the air between you. The words stung. You stepped closer, grabbed his arm and forced him to face you as he tried to put on his winter jacket.

He winced, and you let go, guilt settling in your chest "I care about you, Lars." you said, your voice tender "I care so much it's stupid. I thought I scared you off, but no, you're just jealous and too proud to admit it."

His eyes were wet as he looked at you one last time before stepping to the door, reaching for his navy blue beanie "I'm not jealous." he muttered timidly. "I'm going to chop wood" he breathed out, ready to take his keys and leave.

"You are."

Your stern tone made him stop in his tracks, his back turned to you. "You're jealous of Mark because you think he's got me wrapped around his fingers because he's rich and handsome to most people." you continued, watching him lower his head in shame. You hit the nail right on the head.

"You're jealous because he talks to me easily and isn't afraid to be bold. You think that's what I want, but it isn't" your voice became quieter and quieter the more you talked, until the soft quaking of his shoulders silenced you.

You stepped closer, impossibly slow, inching your hands over his sides and locking together over the front, cuddling him to you from behind. It felt warm, having your arms around him. No pain, just warmth and comfort.

"I don't want him, Lars. I want you. I want shy, sweet, mustache-having and sweater-wearing you." you whispered against his back, the fabric muffling your voice. A pathetic sob escaped him then, and he pressed his palm over his mouth, leaning ever so slightly back against you. "I don't know how to- to..." he muttered, but he choked on his own cries, burying his face in his hands.

"I know, I know, it's okay" you cooed, turning him around in your arms to cup his cheek, featherlight at first, before he leaned into your hand like a cat "We'll figure it out together, I promise" you kissed him then, and he returned the gesture, clumsy and wet, his mustache tickling your upper lip. It was hesitant, but it made both of your hearts soar in your chests.

The kiss deepened, and his hands came up to frame your face, trembling against your cheeks. You felt the warmth of him through the sweater, the slight give of his soft belly against yours as you hugged him closer by the waist. He smelled so good, like wood and freshly cut grass.

"Can we-?" he started as you pulled back for a breather, his voice rough, and you kissed the question right off his lips with a smile "Yes. If you want."

"I do" He breathed the words into your mouth. "I want you. I've wanted you e-ever since you..you made me that sweater" one of which he was wearing in the moment, while he was deeply embarassed of having confessed to you that he had dreamed of this happening after meeting you just a couple of times.

You pulled him over a few steps to his neatly made bed, and gently pushed him to sit on the edge of the mattress.

"I want to see you" you said, and after he nodded timidly, you pulled his sweater and long sleeve shirt over his head. Underneath, he was pale, soft around the middle, with a light dusting of hair across his chest and a trail going from his slight pudgy tummy into his underwear. You licked your lips at the sight. He watched you with wide eyes, his hands fidgeting at his sides.

"You're so pretty" you murmured as you admired the beautiful flush that spread down his chest, and he shook his head, avoiding your eyes "I'm not." he denied your praise, though it certainly made something move in his soft grey pants.

"You are" you said and traced the line of his collarbone, to which he shivered, goosebumps appearing on his arms. And now that you could take a closer look at him, you noticed how defined the muscles in his arms actually were, probably from all the wood chopping he was doing. You wanted to moan as your hands slid over his broad shoulders down his strong arms, but you held yourself back "Now lie back for me, baby"

He did, and you took your time with him. You undressed him slowly, your hands gentle over his thighs and his hips as you pulled his pants away. For every garment you took off him, he was allowed to take one from you as well.

When you pulled his boxers down, his cock sprang free. He was thick and long, heavy against his belly. He was only half hard but already so fucking big, and the sight of it made your mouth water. "Oh Lars" you breathed, your pussy gushing into your already wet panties and you squirmed.

"Is something wrong?" His voice was high, worried that he might have scared you off, that you didn't find him attractive, that you realised how uncomfortable he made you, that you thought-

"No. Nothing's wrong. You're just...big. Really big." you couldn't help but whine when he throbbed, biting your lip and digging your nails into your thigh to stop yourself from touching his slick, pink tip.

He flushed deeply, scooting away from you against the headboard "I don't- I didn't know- is that bad?"

You quickly shook your head to sooth him "No" you said with a smile, and you leaned down to kiss the head of his cock, a wet smack following your lips. He gasped, his hand flying up to cover his face, his hips jerking up against your mouth. "Trust me, it's perfect. I love myself a challenge" you winked, leaning back to take your own undershirt and bra off for him to see you bare. He peeked through his fingers and his breath hitched. "You're so pretty" he echoed, and you laughed softly.

You crawled over his strong legs, your tits jiggling between your arms, hypnotizing the poor man "We're a matched set then." you purred before straddling his hips, shrugged off your panties with his help, while his ears were starting to turn a burning shade of red.

Your wet cunt was now hovering over his shaft, which was fully hard now, the tip rosy and leaking. You took him in your hand, guiding him to your entrance, and the first nudge of that thick head against your folds made you both moan. "Ready?" you asked him breathlessly, sliding the tip back and forth along your wet folds.

He nodded with a cute whimper, his eyes squeezing shut. "I'm scared."

You cooed gently, brushing your thumb over the tender skin under his eyes "You don't have to be scared, I've got you. Just breathe with me, okay?" you lowered yourself an inch at a time. He was so thick that it stretched you, a deep, aching pressure that made your vision blur, bordering on pain, but you pushed through. His hands flew to your hips, gripping you tightly "Oh my god" he whimpered. "S-shit, you're so- I can feel-" he started to gasp between words and you had to put your hands on his face to calm him "Shh. I know. It's okay." you whispered, your voice cracking into a groan as you finally sank all the way down, his balls pressed against your ass, his cock buried as deep inside you as it could go, the tip nudging your cervix. He was trembling, his chest heaving, and when you looked down at his face, his eyes were wet with tears.

Your brows furrowed in concern "Are you crying, baby? Do you want me to stop? Is it too much?" you asked, brushing the fat tears away that rolled over his plump cheeks "N-no it's just...it's too good" he whispered. "It's so good I can't stand it, I- I don't know what to do"

You smiled down st him and then started to move, slow rolls of your hips, and he let out a sound like a wounded animal. You leaned forward to kiss him, and he opened his mouth for you, his tongue shy as you wrapped and curled your own around it, moaning into his mouth, the sweet sounds making him tremble in your arms "You feel so good inside me" you whined against his lips, every thrust punching the air from your lungs "So fucking good."

He hugged you closer, hiding his face in your neck "Really?" he asked, his voice broken, his mustache tickling your sweaty skin. "Really. You fill me up so perfectly. I can feel every inch of you. You're going to make me cum, Lars" you panted into his ear and he sobbed, his hips starting to meet yours, a clumsy, desperate rhythm to make you feel even better and get you to that edge.

You rode him hard, your clit grinding against his pubic bone, the friction building a pressure low in your belly. His moans were high and broken, his hands gripping your waist so hard you'd have bruises by tomorrow.

"I'm gonna c-cum" he gasped, crying into your shoulder "I'm sorry, I can't hold it-" he hiccuped, the strong arms around you trembling as if he could will himself to hold off his orgasm even when your velvet like pussy was dragging over his cock like a dream. "Don't hold it, baby Cum for me. Fill me up." you whispered, the filthiness of it making him mewl, and when your fingers found his hair to pull- he was done for.

He cried out as he came, his body arching off the bed, his cock pulsing wildly inside you. Hot ropes of cum painted your walls, and the feeling of him flooding you, paired with your fingers over your clit, pushed you over the edge too. Your orgasm clenched around him, milking him for all he was worth, and he sobbed through the aftershocks.

You collapsed beside him with shaking legs, sweaty and breathless but more satisfied than you had been in a long time. The same for Lars, as he had usually let out his sexual frustration by chopping wood and more wood, until Karin had to physically force him inside for a break. As he laid there panting, a whole lot of weight just lifted off him, thanks to you.

He turned into your arms, burying his face in your neck, his tears wet on your skin. "I'm sorry" he mumbled, kissing your neck as an apology "I didn't last long."

"That's what the second round is for, maybe tomorrow" you said, brushing your fingers over his bare back, circling the moles there and he laughed wetly.

You laid together together for a while, just basking in the afterglow. He was warm, soft, his heart hammering against your palm as your fingers reached his chest. "I could make you a suit some day" you said idly. "A tweed suit, perhaps. Something with a glen check pattern and a matching vest" you sighed dreamily, imagining all the things you could make him as if he were your own personal mannequin. And you knew he'd look dazzling in everything.

While Lars had no idea what you envisioned through your words alone, he smiled at the idea "I don't want a suit. I want this" He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, pulling you closer "I want to be your Lars in sweaters forever." he whispered, his nose nuzzling with yours.

You giggled at that, threading your hands through his hair "You're my Lars" you whispered back "In or out of sweaters."

He fell asleep in your arms, his mustache tickling your collarbone and with his hand splayed over your belly securily as if to make sure you wouldn't leave. You watched the soft rise and fall of his chest, and you thought about all the sweaters you would knit him, and the suits you would maybe convince him to try on in the future. You tried not to think about his bed being way too small for two people, but you made it work, and fell asleep with him cuddling like you were his favourite pillow.

You never wanted to miss this ever again.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I was planning to post this yesterday night but i got home from vacation and I was so fucking tired i couldn't have pasted and edited it in tumblr for the life of me😭

@ken-dom @bleerggg I hope it's fine i'm tagging ya'll for my second Lars fic, hoping i did him justice again💔

You loved teaching your kids, but you also loved going home at the end of the day and spent the rest of your evening away from doodled brainrot memes on the students assignments and cuddling up in Rylands arms instead. Ugh, five days of chaperoning eighth graders through the science museum, various history exhibits and activities that tired them out enough so they wouldn't destroy the whole hostel when you came back for dinner.

All of this without your boyfriend cheering you up with his stupid science puns, even when you two weren't allowed to sleep in the same room. Sometimes you did it anway, giggling like you were highschoolers breaking the rules- as if you weren't two adults. Well, you weren't so sure when it came to Grace.

The memory made you smile as you laid alone in your tiny hostel room, staring up at the ceiling. The only thing that kept you sane throughout this trip was thinking about Grace, how his hands felt on your hips, the soft and almost shy way he kissed you before making slow and sensual love to you while he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

Your thighs clenched together, and you smiled at Rylands good night message on your phone, knowing he was already tucked in for bed. You shot back that you missed him with a kiss emoji, before you rolled over, hugging your pillow to your chest.

Friday couldn't come fast enough.

☆

By the time you sat in the bus back to town, you were practically vibrating with need and excitement. So much so that the loud chattering and bickering of your students in the seats behind you didn't even faze you one bit. Not even the grating voice of Mr. History could bring you out of your good mood.

You didn't even send Ryland a text that you were coming over as soon as you arrived. He thought you'd be too tired after dealing with young teenagers for a week straight and just wanted to come home to spend a peaceful night alone, so this would be the perfect surpise! You did want to unwind, but why not do it with your beloved boyfriend? Some gourmet ramen (50ct ramen packets topped with a softboiled egg), catching up on new teacher gossip from school while you were away and loving, hot, sloppy sex just to fall asleep in Rylands arms right after and being able to sleep in the next day. There really wasn't anything better than that, no matter in which order those things happened.

You had worn that little black dress he loved, the one with the plunge neckline and a hem that barely brushed your thighs under a jacket and paired with some ugly pants, just so your students wouldn't tease you for looking like a stripper. You had a reputation to uphold after all, and you didn't need to be the next hot topic in the teachers lounge because parents were mad the teacher of their children was appearently dressing like a whore.

You slipped out of the jacket and pants when you arrived at Rylands apartment complex, swapping your converse for heals and your chapstick for lipstick. You packed everything into your bag, brushing your hair with your fingers to make it sit nicely as you looked into the elevator mirror, pushing down the hem of your dress so you wouldn't accidentally reveal your little secret to an unknown neighbor- you had left your panties in your suitcase. You weren't wearing anything underneath the dress, not even a bra, just another little surpise for Ryland.

God, you felt like such a slut walking down the hallway on his floor, and it seemed to stretch endlessly before you finally reached his door.

Your heart was pounding in anticipation to see his face when he would open the door, so you didn't waste any more time and knocked firmly, listening to shuffling and footsteps behind the wood, before it finally creaked open.

Instantly, you threw your arms around his neck and fell into him, your bag forgotten at your feet. "Surprise!" you giggled, squeezing him tightly. Fuck, he smelled good. Judging by his damp hair, he was fresh out the shower, a towel with bleach spots hanging around his neck. Ryan didn't bleach his hair, so it was probably used in a science project at school and he thought it was too wasteful to throw it out.

"I missed you so much-" you said as you pulled back so you could look at him, only for your brain to short-circuit.

Your jaw hung open as you took him in, he somehow looked equally shocked. Rylands beard was darker and longer than a week ago, though he usually shaved it before it got too thick. You always wanted to see him grow out his stubble, and shit, you knew he'd look damn good with it.

He wasn't wearing his glasses, which you blamed on him being fresh out of the shower, and he wasn't wearing his usual science pun shirts and heart briefs, but a white shirt with faint grease stains that just wouldn't wash out, the sleeves so short they strained over his plump biceps and jeans that were ripped at the knees hung low on his hips.

You didn't even know he had clothes like that. This wasn't how you had left Ryland behind, but you weren't about to complain one bit.

"Ryland" you breathed as your eyes trailed over him with appreciation and he opened his mouth to speak, but you pressed a finger to his lips "No, let me have this" you shushed, getting back to admiring him. Your hand came up to cup his face, your thumb brushing through his tamed but dark beard, a low and genuine moan escaping your lips "Fuck, look at you. This beard is so sexy. Why didn't you tell me you wanted to grow it out? I've been waiting for you to do that" you smiled, biting your lips as you looked up at a starstruck Grace, who had no idea where to place his hands.

Your hand wandered over his broad shoulders down his arms, squeezing his biceps that seemed even fuller than before, thick veins curling underneath his skin. You whined at the firmness of his muscles "Fuck, did you work out while I was away? My god..." you sighed, your thighs pressing together. You could almost feel the slick running down your thighs.

He blinked, his mouth opening to speak, but you didn't let him, you just couldn't hold yourself back anymore.

You pressed your body against his, your breasts flattening against his chest, and you kissed him hard, your tongue sliding into his mouth. He tasted different than you remembered, like coffee and something else, something smoky you couldn't quite put your finger on, but you didn't care. Your brain was flooded with lust, with the sheer relief of finally touching him after five long days, and you wanted more.

For a moment, you felt him lean heavily into it before he broke the kiss, his rough hands coming up to your shoulders, not pushing you away but holding you at arm's length. His voice was a little lower than usual, but not enough for you to actually notice. The only thing you noticed was how wet you were getting, and how your fingers tingled with the urge to rip that tight shirt off him and lick his pecs. You were practically vibrating up and down as he held you firmly.

"Uh, sweetheart, I think you've got the wrong guy-" he finally spoke ever since you arrived, but you wouldn't have any of that. You playfully rolled your eyes, jabbing his chest "Oh, you really want to do that?" you interrupted, laughing.

He tilted his head in confusion. "You really want to roleplay now?" you grinned, tugging him closer by his belt. Roleplaying wasn't that unusual with Grace. He was a little nerd after all, and not only when it came to astrophysic and science. He probably wanted to surpise you, just like you wanted to surpise him. The thought made your heart melt.

"And who are you supposed to be?" you purred, walking over his stomach and chest with your middle and pointer finger, feeling something twitch through the denim against your core. "Some strong 'n sexy mechanic who needs to look under the hood of my car? Because I think it might be leaking something..." you bit your lip, grasping his wrists to bring his hands to your thighs, guiding them upwards to bunch up the hem of your dress and let him feel your bare ass. His eyes grew wide. "Maybe you should take a look."

Colt stared down at you, the woman in his arms, his brother's girlfriend.

He had seen you around the apartment complex a few times, as well as on the few pictures Ryland had put up in his apartment, though they were massively outweighed by nerdy sci-fi and space flight posters.

This was terribly wrong, and he knew he should stop this. Right fucking now. He had been dumped by Jody many months ago and he hadn't felt the tender touch of a woman since forever, and it should stay that way for now- especially since you were his brothers girlfriend for christs sake!

But you were so plumb and soft under his hands, it was almost ridiculous how his little brother managed to bag a girl like you. You were so damn pretty and eager, and he'd be a liar if he said your moaning while touching his beard didn't sent a jolt straight to his dick. And fuck, it had been a long week of stunts that left him bruised, sore and he was reminded too much of the stunts he filmed for Jodys first movie. He was starving for some affection that took his mind off of things. So what was the harm in letting you think he was Ryland? Just this once, it would never happen again. No one had no know.

"Yeah" he finally said, his voice dropping into a low, playful growl. "I think I need to check under that hood real good." He swept you up, one arm around your ass and practically throwing you over his shoulder as if you didn't weigh as much as you did. You shrieked then, surprised by his strength, giggling as he groped your ass while he carried you towards the bedroom, your heels slipping off your feet in the process, laying abandoned in the hallway.

He threw you onto the bed, something he had never done before quite like this, and you gasped before giggling, the smug grin he gave you as he crawled over you making your heart skip a beat.

His beard was rough against your cheeks as he kissed down your jaw and throat, mouthing at your cleavage with a wet tongue. "Mhm, such a naughty girl, showing up at my door with no panties on" he murmured, his hands sliding under your dress, pushing it up your thighs.

"Don't act like you don't like it" you whimpered with a teasing smirk, rubbing your bare pussy against the denim on his thigh, arching into his touch. He chuckled them "You know all my weaknesses, baby" and then he pulled your dress over your head in one swift movement, your breasts spilling out, your stomach soft and round, your thighs already slick with arousal that quickly soaked his pants the longer you pressed yourself against them.

He let out a low whistle. "My god, look at you. So beautiful. All these sweet curves- gonna make you feel so good, baby"

He dove down, his mouth closing over your nipple, sucking hard while his hand kneaded your other breast. You cried out, your fingers tangling in his drying hair. He was acting very different today, aside from his looks. He was more agressive, usually Ryland took his sweet time with you, but you loved the change of pace that was going on right now, the way how hungrily he groaned as he explored your body with his lips like he had missed you since forever.

His beard scratched your skin and it sent shivers down your spine, your hand pulling his hair as he moved lower, kissing down your belly, his tongue dipping into your navel, his breath hot against your skin.

"Open your legs for me, baby" he almost begged and you obeyed, spreading yourself wide for him. He settled between your thighs, and when his tongue first lapped at your clit, you screamed. He was relentless, licking and sucking on your pussy like his life depended on it, his beard rubbing against your inner thighs and stoking the fire in your gut. "God, you taste so fucking sweet. You're dripping for me. You like my beard, don't you? You like feeling it on your pussy?" he taunted you then- and the alarm bells in your heads should have gone off in that moment. Ryland never cursed, not even while you had sex. But the way his voice vibrated into your cunt cleared your mind of any thoughts alltogether.

"Yes, yes, yes!" you chanted, your hips bucking against his face with a whine. His mouth worked your clit in relentless tight circles and deep sucks, and you came hard, your body going ridgid and your thighs crushing his head as he kept licking you through your orgasm, his free hand pressing down on your lower belly to keep you still and pressed tightly to his face, until you were gasping and trembling in his grip from overstimulation.

He softly made out with your pussy to bring you back to earth, your legs falling limp onto the matress. You were panting, a fucked out smile on your face as you let out a breathless laugh "Wow..."

Colt smirked up at you from between your legs and you clenched around nothing at the sight "Don't fall asleep on me, baby. We're not done yet" he said, crawling up to kiss you, his beard slick with your wetness, his cock pressing against your thigh.

He manhandled you onto your stomach without another word, and you heard his belt buckle clink open and heavy jeans hitting the floor.

He pulled your hips up and soon after, the head of his cock was teasing your entrance.

"Fucking shit, you're really doing this. You stupid fucking idiot" Colt muttered to himself, quiet enough that you didn't hear him over your pathetic whines and wriggling back against his cock.

He pushed in, slow at first, letting you feel every inch, and you gasped at how thick he was, somehow thicker than you remembered, stretching you in a way that made your toes curl and your body arch into him, your face squished against the pillows.

Colt bottomed out with a hearty groan, his hips flush against your ass. He stayed like this for a moment, soaking up the feeling of having a warm, tight pussy wrapped around him. His head hung between his arms, trying to shove the guilt aside bubbling up in his chest.

He snapped out of it as you desperately tried to get him to move, pressing your hips back against his to feel his tip barely kissing your cervix. He smiled then, sighing softly before he started to move, thrusting into your wet heat that opened up for him eagerly. You moaned loudly, biting into the pillow, your eyes rolling back.

Fuck, it was almost unfair that Ryland kept you all to himself like that.

A broken moan left him as he heard the wet slap of your pussy as he pounded you into the matress, the sloppy suction of your cunt making his head spin. Fuck, you really were into his brother. Not even Jody got this wet when he fucked her, but you were practically dripping all over the sheets.

Colt leaned over you, his mouth beside your ear, his heaving breaths kissing the shell of your ear "You love this, huh? Being fucked by me. Tell me how much you love it."

You whined, a shudder running down your spine "I love it" you breathed "I love your cock, Ryland. Love the way you fill me up. Please, don't stop!" you cried, gushing over his length.

"Wouldn't ever dream of stopping, sweetheart" he rasped, fucking you hard and fast, his balls slapping against your clit with every thrust, his hands gripping your hips so tight you knew there would be bruises tomorrow. Colt could have cried from happiness every time he slipped all the way inside you.

Ryland had never been so rough with you before, punching the air out of your lungs with every harsh thrust that made you feel him all the way in your throat. "Oh. My. God. Uh. Fuck!" you moaned, the sentence chopped up by his relentless pounding until you weren't able to form a proper word anymore.

His thrusts pushed your face into the pillow and you just let him use you like this, your moans muffled by the fabric.

You were used to sensual, loving sex with Ryland. You didn't even know he had it in him to make your legs shake like this, your hands helplessly clawing at the bedsheets as if it would prevent you from coming apart at the seams. You were drooling, wheezing out pathetic moans, your pussy quivering around his dick.

That made Colt almost topple over you, laughing out a whine "Fuck, you feel so good" he almost sobbed, letting out a whimper that sent heat straight to your core. He reached around and found your clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts, and it didn't take long for you to cum again, your walls clenching around him, a strangled cry escaping your lips.

He didn't give you any time to recover, flipping you onto your back again. "Someone is eager today, huh?" you rasped, your voice raw from all your screaming. A lot of things didn't seem right today, though his appearance was the least of your concerns. He was about to fuck the third orgasm out of you without even cumming once himself- which was very odd, but how could you really think about that when he was already slipping back into your cunt, hooking your legs over his shoulder.

"Can't help it when you look this amazing" he said, kissing the insides of your plush thighs before bending your legs forward as much as your flexibility allowed, his eyes stopping at your face. He smiled then, his blue eyes glowing "Wow...you're so pretty" he smiled in awe and you mimicked the expression, even though your mind was hazy with pleasure. "It's crazy" he chuckled as if he couldn't believe it, almost as if he forgot he was still balls deep inside you.

Your head rolled to the side with a flattered grin, but Colt wouldn't have that. He pushed forward, delivering toe curling pressure to your cervix and you mewled.

"Look at me" he commanded then, albeit a bit breathless and soft, and you mustered all your strength to listen and turn your head, staring into those eyes you thought were Rylands "I want to see your face when you come on my cock." he whispered, underlining his words by setting a brutal pace.

You cried out, reaching up a shaking hand to pull him down into a sloppy kiss, the tendons in your legs straining as he bent over to lock his lips with yours, his mouth opening to let your tongue slip inside to taste him like you pleased. Your hand fisted in his hair as he thrusted deep, grinding his hips against yours.

You felt him throbbing against your sweetspot, signaling that he was close, and you were able to push him back long enough for you to slip your legs from his shoulders to rest upon his hips, your ankles locking behind his back. Your other hand found your clit to rub it in frantic circles, and you quickly felt another orgasm building, coiling low in your belly. "I'm gonna cum again" you whimpered against his lips. "Cum inside me, Ryland. Please, please, please!"

He growled, as if he could will himself to resist this sweet temptation, your syrupy words making his balls draw tight. It was one thing sleeping with his brothers girlfriend, with neither knowing that it was him, but it was another to cum inside your own brothers girlfriend without protection.

You shattered then, your body violently convulsing around him, and fuck, fuck! Please be on birth control, please be on birth control-!

His nose scrunched up and he groaned, burying his face in your neck as he spilled inside you, pumping you full of his hot, thick cum. You smiled in bliss, sucking a bruise into his neck while his hips stilled.

His head was tucked in your neck, his panting breath hitting your sweaty skin. You mouthed softly at his shoulder, your eyes fluttering open, fuzzy pleasure blurring your vision as you basked in the afterglow. Oh, you had missed this, missed being with your boyfriend, missed being this close to Ry-

"RYLAND!?" you shrieked as you saw a horrified Grace stand by your bed, his eyes wide and shocked, and his mouth agape in a speechless gasp.

You looked at the man who was still inside you and shoved him off firmly, making him almost roll down the bed as you scooted towards the headboard, covering your naked body with a thin blanket. You looked between the stranger and Ryland, and for a moment you questioned yourself if you had hit your head, because you could have sworn you saw double.

"What the fuck!" you squealed, covering your mouth with your hand. The whole time you thought you were having sex with Ryland, when in reality you let his stranger who looked like him see you bare and vulnerable. You didn't even use protection, god damn it!

"What the actual fuck!?" Ryland yelled, making you flinch. He never raised his voice like this, never cursed, but it wasn't directed at you. He looked to the other man, a snarl on his face "Colt, what the fuck did you do, you bastard!?" he practically growled and threw himself at his twin brother, it had to be his twin, holding him by the collar of the shirt he had left on. Colt held up his hands, pleading "Ry, please, calm down! She came in here, thought I was you and jumped on me. I tried to tell her I wasn't you, but she wouldn't listen!" he tried to explain himself quickly.

"You tried!?" Rylands eyes were blazing with fury "You didn't try hard enough! She's my girlfriend, you absolute fucking dick! You did this on purpose!" he said with a shaking voice.

Your head was spinning, this was crazy! Why did Grace never mention he had a twin in the first place!? "Ryland, I'm so sorry" you started, tears welling in your eyes. "I didn't know. I thought it was you. I swear, I thought-" but he interrupted your pitiful hiccups.

"You thought what? That my beard would magically get three shades darker? That I'd bleach my hair because I was, i don't know, feeling edgy?!" he threw his hands into the air, ruffling his already messy hair, turning around with a heavy sigh as he couldn't bear to look at you "I can't believe this."

Your heart ached in your chest and you chewed on your bottom lip, suffocated by the silence. Colt went to put on his boxers so he wasn't so bare in front of you two "Listen, Ry. It was a mistake, and I'm really sorry. But we can't undo what happened, so-"

"Shut up, Colt." Ryland snapped, turning his glare to his brother. "You don't get to talk."

You got to your feet, the sheet clutched around you, your legs shaking. "Ryland, please. I love you. This doesn't change that. I was just so excited to see you and, and i really thought it was you. Im so, so sorry" you stepped toward him, reaching out, but he took a step back.

"You just let my brother fuck you" he said, his voice breaking. "How am I supposed to feel about that?"

Colt cleared his throat "She came like three times, maybe you could feel happy for her" he muttered, instantly regretting his words "I said shut up!" Rylands face was red as he yelled at his brother yet again.

There was a long, tense silence. You looked between the two identical men, both exactly your type- visually at least. You loved Ryland more than anything, you really did, but despite that, despite the guilt you felt- a dangerous thought crept into your mind. A thought that made you wet again, even though you felt just as sick about it.

"What if...what if we don't let this ruin us?" you said quietly, your voice hesitant. Both of them turned to look at you. "I know it's a crazy thing to say, but we could...maybe, you know..." you looked at Ryland, as if he would continue your sentence for you. "Maybe we could do it...all three? Together?" The words got stuck in your throat, and maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all. You hoped Grace wouldn't just leave alltogether now.

Ryland stared at you, his expression unreadable. Colt raised an eyebrow, a slight smile spreading across his face "You want your girl to feel good, right? And I'd be grateful if you had a little bit of mercy left for your bother" he sighed dramatically, grasping his chest as if he was wounded like in his stunts "It's been months since I last had such a pretty thing under my hands, I'm dying of thirst over here, Ry"

Grace ignored his brother and took a deep breath, then another. His eyes searched yours through his gold rimmed glasses "You promise this doesn't change anything? That you're still mine?"

You nodded quickly "I promise. I'm yours, Ryland. Only yours" you said and brought your hands to his face, kissing him softly. He leaned into it, and when you pulled back, he hesitated for a long moment, then let out a heavy sigh. "Only if I get to decide what he can and can't do. And if he touches you wrong, I'm stopping this" he muttered against your lips.

Colt couldn't believe that Grace was actually considering it, but he wasn't about to complain one bit! "Wouldn't dream of it, bro" Colt said from behind you, his hands sliding underneath the sheet wrapped around your body to let it slip down your form and pool onto the floor.

Before your world turned into a blurred mess of heat and pleasure, Ryland made sure his brother knew the rules. He forbid him to be inside you, Colt had enough of that for one day- or ever. But he was allowed to kiss your body, make you cum with his tounge or fingers, stick his cock down your throat and grope your tits. Everything else was just for Ryland and Ryland alone, just how it should be, and how it would continue to be after this was over.

The brothers threw you onto the bed, and Colt quickly went in to suck and lick your body, his coarse beard scraping against your heated skin. They tossed and turned you on the bed like a ragdoll to each get a taste of your skin, covering as much ground as possible with their lips and hands.

They handled you onto your knees, where Grace knocked your knees apart, spreading your ass cheeks to watch your pussy flutter, desperate to be full. He rubbed your clit from behind, to which your mouth fell open in a moan, but it was quickly cut off by Colt shoving his dick between your lips. "Open wide for me, baby" he grinned and you did, squealing around him when Rylands familiar thickness pushed into you, sliding into your wet, ready pussy with a groan.

Colts hand wrapped around the back of your head, really just to hold you, as Rylands thrust made you stumble forward slightly, right onto Colts cock. He whined as he looked down at you, watching your eyes tear up from all the sensations you were experiencing.

Grace fucked you like you knew he would, with long, deep but slow strokes that let you feel every vein on his cock, covering the length with your slick arousal and pushing out Colts remaining cum, to which Ryland smiled to himself. There really was only place for one twin in your pussy, and he was making sure it would always be his.

You gagged softly around Colt as a particulary deep thrust from Grace made you want to gasp, completely forgetting you had a mouth full of meat that made it hard to breathe it the first place. The additional tightness made Colt throw his head back "Yeah, take it" he grunted. "You like being the center of attention, don't you? Two cocks for one greedy little girl, so naughty"

Ryland shushed him, stroking your back "Don't shame her, she's allowed to be as greedy as she wants. She deserves it" he muttered in awe, his hips speeding up just a little to watch your back arch. "You're so beautiful like this." he whispered then, and he felt you clench around him tightly. God he had missed you so much, even though it had only been five days. He hadn't imagined that your arrival back would result in this, but he was happy regardless to get to take you, to see you drowning in pleasure.

You mumbled something around Colts dick, to which he pulled out with a wet pop, slowy petting your cheek "What was that, sweetheart?" he asked, panting. You could tell he had been close.

You coughed before you turned to look over your shoulder at Grace "I love you, Ryland" you whined, and it made his heart soar in his chest. He smiled at you, his glasses sitting crookedly on his nose "I love you too, baby. Now, be a good girl and show Colt how good you can swallow"

Colt nearly bursted right then and there "Fuck, for someone who doesn't swear, you've got a filthy mouth, bro" he rasped, his dick slipping back between your lips. You sucked harder, faster, wanting to bring him over the edge, and at the same time you pushed back against Grace, meeting his thrusts. The rhythm built and you braced yourself against Colts thigh with one hand to steady yourself as Ryland picked up the pace, your needy moans vibrating around his cock.

He came pretty quickly after that with a gutteral moan, his cum hot and thick, easing the ache of your raw throat. He watched you swallow everything with ease, just like Grace had said, and he smiled down at you in bliss.

Colt fell against the headboard, enjoying watching the show of your arms being too weak to hold yourself up, so you collapsed onto the bed, your head buried in your arms, mewling and squealing as Grace fucked you, no other man on your mind. He should have stopped this before landing in bed with you, but maybe it had been the slight jealousy he felt towards his little brother, that was younger than him by just a few minutes.

Grace had always been the loser twin, the one that was bullied for being a nerd, the one who couldn't throw hands for the life of him, and the one who rather stuck his nose into a book than to socialize and pick up a few girls, not that they had been particularly interested in him anyway.

And now, look at him. He had a pretty girl, and he did a damn good job at keeping her, something Colt had been struggling with lately. Guess Ryland was something of a late bloomer, while Colt had been a college whore and now failed to make meaningful connections. He smiled to himself. At least his brother was happy now, even though his life started as anything but. Good for him.

Grace couldn't help but cum inside you, spilling into your pussy, your sweet moans egging him on. He slipped out of you, though you hadn't cum yourself. And you were fine with that- being used for the twins pleasure, your pussy began to feel sore anyway. But Ryland wouldn't have that.

He turned your trembling form on your back so you were laying against Colts sweaty chest, while he settled between your legs, pulling them apart and revealing the sticky mess between your thighs. He looked up at you, kissing up your thighs with wet smacks "I need you to come on my face" he muttered, his mouth inching dangerously closer to where you needed him most. "Want to know how you taste stuffed with my cum"

He buried his face between your legs, his tongue cleaning up the mess he had left, his tongue curling around your clit. You screamed, your back arching away from Colt, who quickly held you down by your tits, roughly kneading the soft flesh while his lips suctioned at your neck.

"Who is making you feel good right now, sweetheart?" Colt whispered into your ear, to which you mewled, your hand pulling at Rylands hair "R-Ryland!" you babbled, your hips bucking against his nose, and you felt the coldness of his glasses on your mound, while he smiled against your cunt as he heard you stutter his name so sweetly.

"Ryland! Always makes me feel so good, love him so much, he's so good to me, just want him" you rambled on in a breathy sob, all the different sensations over your body throwing you toward another orgasm.

Grace licked you through it, his tongue firm against your clit, and you came again, and again, until you were a trembling and sobbing mess in Colts arms.

Ryland climbed up your tired body to kiss you, slow and deep, letting you taste the mixture of your arousal and the their cum on his tongue "Say it again." he muttered against your lips. "I only want you" you whispered. "Only you"

Colt helped Ryland clean you up, handling your fucked out body with care. They cleaned up between your thighs carefully, gave you a little massage, made sure you drank something and you were out like a light in minutes. Grace made himself comfortable beside you while Colt got dressed and ready to leave.

But before he was out the door, he turned back to his brother, just staring for a moment, the silence stretching. "Im happy for you, you know. You're very lucky to have her, and she is very lucky to have you" he muttered.

Ryland stared at his brother for a long while before he smiled softly, knodding in gratitude.

"I know"

★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

I just recently watched The Fall Guy and read a threesome fic like this one on ao3 and i was obsessed! I love the idea that Colt and Ryland are twins who grew up seperately with their mom and dad! And what can i say, i wanna fuck both

It's 2:37 in the morning, like usual, I gotta go to bed in this heatwave and hope that the hype around Ryland hasn't already died out lmao

The afternoon sun dimmed by the winter time filtered through the blinds, casting stripes of cool, golden light across the floor, and you were halfway through the fog of fatigue that always seemed to settle over you like a heavy blanket, no matter how much you slept. Boredom only made it worse, but when your aunt suddenly ran tests on a silicone doll, it seemed like today would be a bit more interesting than usual.

You watched her sit in the examination room next door, scribbling something into a notebook while the doll laid on the recliner to rest.

She had told you about a young man named Lars, who's girlfriend was a doll he believed to be a real girl because of a delusion. If you ever met him, you were supposed to play along. No problem, you had encountered weirder things in the hospitals and doctors offices that might as well be your second home by now.

So when the door opened and a timid, soft voice kissed your ears, you instinctively sat up straighter.

"I just couldn't wait any longer. I wanted to see how she was doing" you heard him speak, guessing that this was the young man you heard so much about. You couldn't see him yet from where he was sitting, but you saw your aunt Dagmar turn to the door "Well, after the treatment, she has to rest. It doesn't work without the resting." she explained to him gently.

Before he could turn to leave with his head held low, Dagmar stopped him "Lars, keep me company" she said and gestured to the adjacent room. The silence stretched until a man appeared in your aunts office, unsure if he was even supposed to be in this space.

He awkwardly fiddled with his fingers before removing his gloves and stuffing them into the pockets of his thick jacket, which he put up on a clothing hanger alongside his navy blue hat. Only then did you truly see his face. He was cute with his rounded face and his cheeks like red apples from the cold, his mouth pulled into a tight line beneath his mustache.

It didn’t seem like he had noticed you sitting in the other corner, too caught up in blinking harshly and wrestling with his hands. He had very...big hands.

Your aunt went to lean against her desk, fishing out a PB&J sandwhich you had made her this morning, biting into it while asking Lars a few questions, her voice taking on that probing but soft tone she used when she was trying to dig deeper than the surface without the patient noticing. It seemed to be working on Lars, you noted as you watched over the top of your book, keeping quiet in your dark corner.

After a few mundane questions that took Lars a few moments to asnwer, you brought your attention back to the medical journal, listening with only one ear.

"So tell me about Karin. I don't know her very well." Dagmar said, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear as she took her next bite. You had no idea who Karin was, but she seemed to be a close relative for Lars, one which he described as wonderful.

"But she...I'm worried about her." he finally pressed out after mulling over it for a bit, not knowing if he was even allowed to voice his concerns like this. Dagmar looked up, waiting for him to continue.

He shook his head a little "I think she has a little problem. It's just...and I think it's cause she's insecure- but she's just always trying to hug everybody." he explained with a shocked expression. It was adorable, honestly. And relatable, in a way. You also weren't in the mood to be hugged in certain situations, by certain people.

"You know, some people don't like that. Some people don't like to be hugged." he stated firmly, and it sounded like he had his fair share of bad experiences through involuntary hugging. "But she doesn't realize that, she takes it personally and thinks...you know, it hurts her feelings. I don't know what to do about that. Do you?" he sighed as he was finally done rambling, looking to Dagmar for help, as if she could will Karin to stop this with her mind alone.

Your aunt shrugged softly "But it's such a comfort sometimes just to have somebody's arms around you. Don't you think?" she muttered between chewing on her bread. Lars instantly went to shake his head, his eyes growing wide "No" as if the possibility of a hug feeling nice was the most perverse thing he had ever heard.

Dagmar waved her hand dismissively "Come on, it feels good"

Lars couldn’t stop shaking his head as if this whole thing was absurd "It does not feel good, it hurts." when he said that, you perked up, watching him more closely. Some kind of touch aversion perhaps? Or was it smiliar to your own illness...?

"Excuse me for a moment, Lars. I'll be right back" Dagmar said, put some keys into her pocket and exited her office. There was probably already an idea brewing in her head on how to help Lars, she just had to gather the right equipment for tests.

Lars seemed to deflate as she left, feeling even more out of place in this room.

You closed your book a little louder than intended and Lars practically jumped up, finally noticing that you were in the room, too. He looked horrified, to say the least.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you" you apologized kindly, shifting forward in the armchair until your feet touched the ground. Lars looked at you like you were a creature out of this world "How...how long have you been there?" he asked in almost a whisper, wrestling with his hands, his head turning to the door every few seconds as if Dagmar would come to save him.

You smiled softly at that "Haven't left this seat all morning" you yawned, finally standing up to stretch your legs out. You were wearing shorts that ended above your knees, not because it was so warm in Dagmars office, but for practical reasons. Lars eyes followed you as you walked over to a bag on Dagmars desk, pulling out a disinfectant spray and a white box containing a pen.

"So, when you say touch hurts...is it like a bruise? Burning, maybe needle pricks?" you turned back to him, leaning against the desk and pulling up the hem of your right pant leg, just a few inches, enough to bare the meat of your upper thigh. Lars' gaze dropped immediately, his cheeks flushing a deep, painful looking pink in embarrassement, like he was forbidden to see this much skin.

It took him a moment to answer you, carefully watching you spray your thigh with the disinfectant, waving your hand to make it dry quicker. "Like a burn" he nodded, eyes trying to stay glued to the floor, but eventually giving in to watch what you were doing. "Like when you go outside and you feet freeze and then you come back in and they thaw out? It's like that. It's almost exactly like that."

You nodded slowly, letting his description settle into your understanding as you twisted off the cap of the pen, throwing it into the bin near you. “That's awful. I know how that feels like. My feet like to burn like this when they are nice and warm and I'm ready for bed so I can't sleep" you giggled, joking about it as if this didn't bring you to tears late at night when all you wanted was to fall asleep. "And when my skin goes numb, I can't feel warmth or coldness. It just stings when I touch it" you muttered, holding the pen near the light and squinting at it to make sure the liquid in the little vile inside was clear and not cloudy or any other weird colour, before positioning the pen on your thigh.

Your words clearly sat deep in Lars' chest, and his brows furrowed in thought. "What are you doing?" he asked then, unsure if it was even appropriate to ask that.

You looked up at him "Oh, uhm, that's my medication. I'm chronically ill, I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis when I was 17. I gotta take this monthly"

Click

That was the only sound as you pushed the pen firmly against your side, the needle puncturing your skin, your medication being disposed into your thigh. You didn’t flinch. You held his eyes the entire time, smiling gently at his sad expression, as if to tell him he didn't have to feel bad about it. "I hate needles, but I think the alternative is worse" you shrugged.

Click

The second click told you that the dose had been delivered, and you withdrew the pen, a tiny bead of blood welling up on your thigh. You wiped it away with a cotton pad and disposed the empty pen in the bin.

Lars made a small, choked sound and his hand twitched on his knee as if he wanted to comfort you, but didn't know how. Not that he would have mustered up the courage for it anyway.

“It’s okay” you whispered, and you saw the tears gathering in his eyes. "I've been doing this since I'm 18. I'm used to it, honestly". All you got was a tight smile and a harsh blink from him, nodding to you. Right, you got used to the pain to not make anyone uncomfortable around you, even if it meant you had to be uncomfortable yourself. That's what he had done over the years, too.

You didn't know that this moment would turn your life around, in a positive way, a beautiful friendship blooming between you. You understood each other without uttering a single word. It started with you understanding his pain because you lived with your own, and with him seeing that understanding in your eyes and believing it.

☆

Weeks turned into months, and you found reasons to be at the clinic when Dagmar told you Lars had an appointment, even though you really didn't have to be there.

But Bianca was always there, of course she was, she was the one getting treated after all, sitting patient and beautiful in her wheelchair, and Lars would wheel her into the examination room with such tenderness, such care, that it made your chest ache. He was very devoted to Bianca, which was beautiful, but sometimes you wished he'd look at you that way. Though you noticed his eyes found you across the waiting room more frequently, and you even started to meet at his place, then yours.

More and more, he lingered after Bianca’s treatment was done, finding excuses to stay and to talk to you, even with Dagmar probing him with questions of her own in the meantime.

On your bad days, when the fatigue pressed down on you like a physical weight and your legs felt like they were made of concrete, Lars would come over to your apartment and just be. He would sit on your couch, hands folded in his lap, and talk to you in that soft, halting voice about the weather, about the baby that was on the way for his brother, about the wood he chopped and that you should watch him once you felt better, he was pretty good at it.

He never demanded anything from you on those days, not that he was demanding by nature anyway. He never asked you to get up, to do anything, to be anything other than what you were in that moment. He brought you tea and set it on the coffee table within your reach, and he stayed until the sun went down. And when he couldn't because of work, he left Bianca with you to keep you company.

And on your good days, you respected his prefered distance as well, though you were prone to test his boundaries from time time with gentle and patient persistence. Just like he was gentle and patient with you. You'd brush your fingers against his when you handed him something, your shoulders barely pressed to his on the couch while you watched a movie. Each time you watched him tense, watched him breathe through it, to eventually watching him stay with you touching him instead of pulling away.

You wouldn't forget the first time he actually held your hand on his own accord without you asking or making him do it.

Dagmar had called you in to get your blood drawn, and while you had done this a million times already, it still made you squeamish. You sat upright in your chair, grimacing as the tourniquet was pulled tight around your biceps, feeling your heartbeat down the veins of your arm. You looked away when Dagmar tapped and pushed at your veins to find a good one, nearly flinching as she sprayed the cool infectant onto your skin.

And Lars, who had accompanied you because you had asked him to, reached out and took your hand in his.

His palm was warm and sweaty, his grip uncertain. His fingers trembled against yours. But he held on, and he squeezed when the needle went in. You were so shocked he actually held your hand that you barely felt the prick, only looking over at Lars so you didn't have to see the needle stuck in your arm nor the vials in Dagmars hands filling up with your blood. Instead you could admire his beautiful blue eyes, even though he couldn't bear to look at you more than five seconds at a time.

When it was over he didn’t let go immediately. He held your hand for an extra ten seconds, his eyes fixed on the floor, as if ashamed he had done this without asking first. It had been a long time since someone held your hand or comforted you while getting your blood drawn. You were mostly just ridiculed by most nurses or doctors, telling you that you were an adult and there were way worse things than this and you shouldn’t act so childish- just a few seconds before you passed out in their chair because they wouldn't listen to your fears.

“Thank you” you said truthfully, sighing in relief as Dagmar loosened the tourniquet around your arm, and Lars helped to press a cotton swap where you had been pricked with the needle, while your aunt searched for a band aid.

“It didn’t burn” he whispered then, the excitement evident in his expression as he gave you one of his cute smiles that you loved. You mimicked it. “Your hand, it didn’t burn” he muttered it as if he couldn't quite believe it. Only Biancas touch had been fine for him until now, but yours was strangely pleasent as well.

From then on, touch became more frequent. A hand on his arm. Your head resting on his shoulder. Your fingers laced through his as you walked through the park, slow and careful because your legs got tired and his world had been turned upside down by a woman who wasn’t quite real and a woman who was.

Dagmar told you, during one of your own check ups, that Lars had spoken to her privately. That he had said that he didn’t feel uncomfortable when he touched you. That he wanted to touch you. That he was afraid of the wanting, afraid of how much he craved it.

“He’s in love with you" your aunt said, and you had to look away to hide the tears pricking at your eyes, especially when she looked at you with that knowing smile.

You shook your head "He has Bianca. He could never cheat on Bianca or leave her behind like that, and I-" you started to ramble, but Dagmar put a warm hand to your shoulder "I think he's starting to not need Bianca anymore, because he has you. You just need to give him another gentle push"

You didn't know if you could believe her, but god did you want to.

☆

Not long after, you had to attend Biancas funeral. You sat with Lars through the whole thing, holding his hand, gently shushing his cries. You tried your best to comfort him without overwhelming him with too much touch at once.

The weeks blurred together after that, and the small, quiet town seemed even quieter than usual.

No one spoke to Lars about Bianca, only looked at him with pity in their faces, though he didn't feel sorry for himself. He didn't want to, he just wanted everyone to treat him like a normal person. Like there wasn't anything special about him just because his girlfriend died. He didn't even know if he could call her that now- it was like he had been awoken from a dream now, his brain still foggy, though you knew Bianca would always hold a special place in his heart, and you loved that for him.

Still, you didn't want to leave him alone just yet, so you asked him to stay over at your place for a few days- or as long as he liked.

You woke up when Lars had already wen't to work. It felt weirdly domestic, like you were a wife waiting for her husband to return from work to love on him. You smiled to yourself at that, shaking your head.

You didn't know what this was between you and Lars, you hadn't put a name to it other than friendship, but asking the townsfolk they'd scream in your faces that you were anything but just friends. You shook your head to get those thoughts out of your mind. He had just lost his girlfriend recently, he couldn't possibly jump into the next relationship right away. Lars wasn't like that.

As long as your energy let you, you tackled the mess in your apartment after letting clothes and dishes pile up through attacks of fatigue and depression, cleaning everything as best as you could.

It wasn't perfect, but at least you had done something productive today, which automatically made you feel better. You hummed proudly in your kitchen, stirring the hearty tomato sauce after adding the seared and juicy meatballs you had prepared before. You graded fresh parmesan into the rich sauce and broke some basil leaves over the pot.

As the pasta boiled and the garlic bread roasted in the oven, you already went to set the dinner table for Lars' return. Wow, okay, yeah this does look...a bit too romantic, maybe. But you wouldn't back out now.

You passed your calendar as you went to the fridge to retrieve some chilled wine, your eyes falling onto todays date, which was circled red. Oh, right. Your medication.

As you got the bottle of wine out, you searched the fridge for your medication pen and to your shook- you found none. Shit! You thought you still had one left! You went to look at the clock, realising that the only pharmacy in town had already closed down thirty minutes ago.

You groaned, holding your head in your hands. Now you could only hope your aunt was still in her office and still had some pens for you in the supply closet, though you really hadn't planned to go out today at all. With a heavy sigh, you changed your pyjama pants for actual pants and were just about to throw your jacket over your shoulders and get the car keys hanging near the door, when there sounded a knock.

Lars stood on your doorstep in his cute, thick jacket, baby blue blanket and warm hat that framed his rounded face so adorably, snowflakes melting on his mustache.

"Oh, hi Lars! You're here early..." you muttered, brushing a strand of hair over your ear "I made spaghetti with meatballs, you can already eat if you want. I gotta ask my aunt if she has my medication ready-" you said and already went to brush past him, but he held a white plastic bag into your face.

He blinked harshly before he spoke "I have your medication" he stated simply, waiting for you to take the bag from him. When it took too long, he practically shoved it into your hands. As you peeked inside, there were three boxes, three months worth of your medication.

He swung his hands by his sides, rocking a little back and forth on his heel. "How did you know?" you breathed, an unbelieving smile stretching across your lips. "You said you had to take it today a few days ago, and I saw it in your calendar" he explained, looking down to his feet "I saw you ran out this morning, so I asked Dagmar if she could give me some for you so you wouldn't have to go out today"

You stood there in your doorway, the bag cradled in your arms, and you looked at this man- this shy, awkward and beautiful man who had been so terrified of growning closer to you at the start, now remembering your schedule and getting your medication so you didn't have to leave the house when you already felt tired. You felt something crack open inside you.

“Lars” you breathed, and your voice came out thick and wet, and you couldn't hide your smile.

He was fidgeting, shifting from foot to foot, his eyes darting everywhere except your face. "Thank you so much, that means more than you know" you confess, and wrap your hands around his gloved ones to pull him into the warmth of your apartment.

You set the bag down on the entry table, fishing out one long package “Will you help me inject it?” you asked softly, not knowing why you did it. You hadn't even thought of an excuse as to why you couldn't do it yourself, but maybe you also didn't want to excuse it. You just wanted him to do it.

His eyes flew open and he shook his head as he took his knitted hat off “I, no, I can't...I’ve never, what if I do it wrong? I don't want to hurt you" he muttered while hanging his thick jacket away, which only did so much to make him appear less cuddly, the remaining layers of his button up and sweater making him look so warm and home-y.

“You won’t” you assured him, taking the pen out of it's case “I’ll talk you through it. I trust you, Lars.”

It took him three minutes of mulling over it to agree. Ever since knowing you, he learned a lot more about the chronic disease that you had. His boss even caught him at work browsing through internet forums to understand the illness better instead of asnwering emails. He was aware how cruel it could be and he didn't want to cause you any more harm. But he also didn't want you to get even sicker.

You led him into your living room, sat down on the couch with him, and pulled off your pants all the way. He reacted the same way all these months ago seeing your thigh the first time after you met. How adorable.

You prepped your leg with the disinfectant and gave him the pen, pushing your knee between his legs. It felt like the startest thing to do accecable wise, but Lars blushed at the contact. But you didn't let him dwell on it.

“Just twist it open" you instructed, twisting your own hands in front of you to show him how it was done. He did so quickly, looking up at you for the next step. "Very good! Now we gotta check the medication. Is it cloudy?" you asked then and he squinted at the small window in the pen, shaking his head no. "Are there clumps inside?" another headshake. "Is it blue, green, yellow or another fun colour?" okay, now you were messing with him, he could tell by your teasing smile. He couldn't help but mimick you, but still shaking his head.

"That's great! If that was ever the case, we gotta throw that pen right out" you explained, and his expression locked in as he nodded firmly, as if he had saved this information under very, VERY important in his brain.

You giggled "Okay, then it's time for the real fun. Just put the pen against my thigh"

When his hand hovered over your leg, unsure, you wrapped your fingers around his trembling ones and guided him where he needed to be. You could feel his shaking through the pen pressed gently against your skin. "Very good. Now you just press it in harder to inject it" you explained with a little shrug, your hand staying on his wirst to comfort him.

God, his hand was shaking so hard you thought he might drop it entirely. He leaned closer to carefully eye what he was doing. "Uhm...ready?" he asked, looking up to you with those large, round and earnest eyes. You just nodded, wishing to replay this moment in your head all over again. He was just so pretty.

He inhaled deeply before following your instructions, pressing the pen harder to your thigh, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Click

You felt the familiar sting, the deep ache of the needle penetrating muscle as the pressure burned uncomfortably down your leg. You didn't flinch or make a sound other than praising Lars for being so gentle with you. And when the next click sounded, you breathed out the pain you had ignored, prevented him from pulling away too quickly.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he apologized quickly as he noticed the discomfort you had hidden during the injection, his hand covering the small, bleeding spot on your thigh with his hand as if he had caused a large wound. To stop his ramblinv, you reached forward and pulled him in for a kiss.

It was gentle and soft, your lips barely brushing his. He made a startled noise against your mouth, his hands frozen in midair, the used pen dangling from his fingers.

“You did so good” you whispered against his lips. “It barely hurt, really. You were so careful, Lars. Thank you so much for helping me"

When you pulled back, you first saw Lars being a blushy mess and averting your eyes. Then your gaze trailed lover and you saw the unmistakable and obvious tent in his trousers, just barely brushing your exposed knee. When he was sure you saw it, his eyes watered and he covered his face with his hands, whimpering softly. Your praise clearly had a very strong effect on him.

You gently pried his hands away from his cheeks “Do you want me to help you?” you whispered, and the question hung in the air between you, delicate and fragile and charged with possibility. You waited, not wanting Lars to think you were just playing with him, waiting for the perfect opportunity to embarass him like this. But deep down he knew you would never do that. That's what he loved about you.

Yeah, he loved you.

He nodded then, a small and jerky motion wgile blinking rapidly and harshly. You took his hand and led him to your bedroom.

You guided him down onto the edge of your bed, your hands moving slow and deliberate, never rushing or pushing his limits without asking. You unbuckled his belt with the same careful attention he had  shown you moments ago and drew his pants down his hips with a reverence that made him shiver.

After a lot of coaxing and praising, he even shrugged off his sweater to be left in a thin but long armed shirt as the heat became too much, and he allowed you to push down his briefs.

His cock sprang free, hard and flushed and fucking big, and Lars couldn’t look at you. His eyes were fixed somewhere on the ceiling, his hands fisted in the sheets, his breath coming in shallow and ragged bursts. You on the other hand just couldn't look away. He was...bigger than average and obviously not aware of it in the slightest. Your mouth watered at the sight, and you already knew you'd feel him all the way in your throat if you even got that far today.

“Look at me,” you said softly, and when his gaze finally dropped to yours, you leaned over his weeping cock and spat on it, and the gesture almost killed him. You then wrapped your hand around his length, slick with his precum and spit. He gasped, his body bowing off the bed. His hips bucked involuntarily, and you watched the way his pupils dilated into round pools of black, his mouth falling open.

You stroked him slowly, your thumb circling his head, your grip firm but gentle. You didn't want to overwhelm him, but that was easier said than done. The glide over his dick was easy, and each pass of your hand drew a soft, broken sound from his throat. “You’re so good for me” you murmured, watching his fucked out expression, even though you had barely done anything to him yet “You're so beautiful like this, Lars. God, you're always so pretty. I've dreamed of this" you sighed, your other hand coming up to ghost over his flushed cheek.

“I don’t- I don’t know what to do” he confessed, his voice cracking in a hiccup. You cooed softly at him, corkscrewing your hand every time you reached his tip. He cried out, the air punched from his lungs. “You don’t have to do anything” you assured, your hand rubbing up and down his tensed thigh “Just let me take care of you.”

It didn’t take long for him to burst, not with the way you were stroking him relentlessly. He was so pent up, so starved for touch and connection that he couldn't hold back and you must have been uch a pro at what you were doing because it felt so damn good. So good that he couldn't even feel selfconcious about his severe lack of experience next to yours, though you just liked reading spicy romance books and you used that fact to your advantage.

His hips started thrusting into your fist, his breath coming in desperate little pants, and you watched his face contort with pleasure that almost looked painful. "I'm-! I think I'm...mhmm!”

“Cum for me” you whispered, and he did so instantly with a broken cry that sounded like your name. Hot stripes of cum painted his belly where his shirt had ridden up from his thrashing, and you stroked him through it, genty bringing him back down to earth with murmured praise.

He laid there, his chest heaving and staring up at you with an expression of dazed wonder. With newly found courage, he sat up to push you down against the bed, though it was anything but forceful and demanding.

“I want to...c-can I...taste you?” he asked timidly, the shyness was still there, but layered over it was something new. Something hungry you had just awoken “Please. I want to make you feel good too.” he whispered, his eyes clenching shut in fear of rejection.

You nodded quickly and eagerly, settling down against the pillows with gidiness rising up in you chest.

He slipped down your body and pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee, then another, moving higher inch by agonizing inch. When he reached the spot where he had injected the medication, he paused. It was very small, just a red dot with light bruising forming around it, but his chest squeezed anyway. He pressed his lips to the tiny puncture wound, kissing it like an apology.

“I’m sorry you have to do this” he muttered against your skin, his mustache scratchy. “I’m sorry you’re sick. I wish you didn’t have to hurt all the time”

You smiled down at him, brushing your hand through his thick hair “You make it better,” you whispered, and you meant it with your whole heart. He took his time then. Not only because he was insecure about his technique, but also because you deserved to be taken care of throughouly.

Lars kissed your thighs until you were squirming, until you were gripping his hair and pleading, and when he finally pushed your panties down and connected his mouth to your pussy, you cried out.

He licked you like he was worshiping an altar in the local church, slow and deep and deliberate, listening to every sound you made. He hoped your lustful moans meant he was doing good, as he had no idea what the hell he was doing, but his eagerness made up for it.

He found your clit with an instinct that surprised you both, and he circled it with his tongue until your legs were shaking around his shoulders and you were arching off the bed and gasping his name. You tasted even better than he could have ever imagined, and your hands pulling his hair made him mewl pathetically into your pussy, slurping you up.

When you came, he drank it down like a man dying of thirst, and when he finally came up for air, his chin and mustache were slick and his eyes were bright like he had found his new favourite activity, his smile the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

“Was that okay?” he asked, and you laughed, tugged him up by the collar, kissing him with the taste of yourself on his lips. “More than okay” you smiled breathlessly.

Soon you had worked up your way into his lap, his cock standing proudly between your stomachs. You cursed under your breath as you saw just how much he'd fill you, guiding him to your entrance with trembling fingers. Luckily, Lars' hands were just as big, and a comforting weight on your hips.

He yelled into your neck as his swollen head slipped between your velvet like lips and you gasped at the stretch.

You circled your hips to take him deeper, one inch at a time, groaning through it "God Lars, you're so big!" you sighed, clinging to his broad shoulders. "Is that...a bad thing? Am I h-hurting you?" he whined, the unfamiliar tightness around him making his head spin.

You shook your head violently "No, no, fuck no, this is so good. You feel so good" you moaned, the air being punched out of your lungs when you bottomed out in his lap and the bumped into your cervix.

You both panted, clinging to each other with furrowed brows as you got used to the sensations. Lars forced his eyes to look at you, tears already gathering at the corners. “You’re so beautiful” he whispered in absolute awe “You’re so good to me" he almost sobbed, like he didn't deserve all this tenderness. You shushed him gently with a kiss, before you lifted yourself up before falling back down, rocking back and forth on his cock in a slow rhythm.

Lars buried his face in your neck, and you quickly felt your shoulder growing wet “You feel so good” he slurred against you, high and needy. You wrapped your hand around his neck to keep him there, kissing his ear to soothe him. 'F-faster, please"

You granted his wish, bouncing faster ans harder in his lap, to which you felt him throb heavily in your core, your eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. He was hitting all the right spots, just his strong thumb was missing on your clit. Your hand found his and you guided him to the swollen nub, and he instantly knew what to do. He rubbed your clit in thight circles with the last bit of function he had left in his brain and you moaned right in his ear, making him shudder.

You began to tighten around me, which was what undid him in the end and you felt him swell inside you, the heat building. “I’m going to...cum!" he gasped, barely pressing out the word cum “I can’t hold it-”

You hugged yourself tightly to him, rocking yourself into the motions of his thumb “Cum with me, baby. Cum inside me” you gasped, your orgasm approaching fast “Fill me up, Lars. I want to be so full of you"

He came with your name on his lips, a broken, desperate sound that was equal parts pleasure and relief. His hips surged up to fill you deep, grinding against you as he spilled himself into you as your cunt fluttered around him. You held him through it, stroked his back, kissed his damp temple and whispered how good he was, how perfect he did for you, how much you loved him.

After you cleaned up, he laid curled against your side, his head resting on your chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your hip. He was quiet for a long time, and when he finally spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. “I’ve never had this” he admitted “I’ve never had someone touch me and have it feel good. I’ve never wanted to be touched...until you. You're...you're not going to leave me, are you?"

His question sounded so small, so sad, your heart gave a tight squeeze in your chest.You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, burying your nose in his hair, breathing in the scent of him. “I'm not going to leave" you promised “I’m yours, Lars. For as long as you want me.”

He tilted his head up, his eyes meeting yours, and there was something raw and open in his gaze. Something that looked a lot like hope.

“For always” he whispered.

“I want you for always.”

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Thank you so much @ken-dom for inspiring me to write for Lars! Please check out their work, it's amazing!

I really hope you guys liked it, even though the situation is very specific. Maybe some of you can relate, and if not- maybe you learned a bit more about multiple sclerosis and one possibility to treat it (yes i have to use such a pen every month!)

But maybe it had been inevitable, written into the stars that now surrounded you and stretched endlessly across the dark abyss of space. Even if, what else was a girl supposed to do when she was trapped in space with the only male human being she was going to be in contact with for the rest of her life?

That Grace was a smart guy with a pretty face and an awkwardness, which was more adorable than anything else, only added to it. You really had been doomed from the start.

But you kept your feelings buried deep.

You didn't want them to get in the way of your mission, though they already were all over the place every time it dawned on you that you would never return back home, that your time here was limited and you'd probably starve side by side in a few years to come. And you knew you couldn't do anything about it, no matter how much you wished it would be different. That you and Grace could make a difference.

Despite being together, being at the edge of your known universe still made you feel lonely, lost and small. There was nothing for miles in every direction, just the endlessness of the stars and the black void you stared into when you couldn't sleep, which was often the case.

Until one day, that darkness littered with small glowing dots was disruppted by a large, copper-golden construction that resembled a spaceship, one which was much much bigger than yours.

And just like that, another name was added to the list of living beings on the hail mary. Rocky.

You quickly grew attached to the rock-like alien and how easily impressed he was when you and Grace explained humanly customs to him, and just how fast he learned from new things, too.

"What you doing with body, question?"

You jumped at the sudden voice behind you, turning to see Rocky in his little xenonite ball, looking at you expectingly despite having no facial features at all. You quickly turned down the music, heat creeping up your neck in embarrassement. It was almost a routine for you, listening and swaying to your favourite songs from earth to calm you before sleep. Grace knew about this, but Rocky had never witnessed it before, especially since you and Grace had slept huddled together in the lab so Rocky could watch both of you for the past few days. There just hadn't been time to listen to a lot of music.

Right now, it just felt like you needed a moment alone, some space to breathe and to sort your thoughts, trying to not think about all the things that could go wrong with Grace wanting to collect the so-called 'astrophage predator' on planet Adrian...

"Uh...that's called dancing" you answered, to which Rocky perked up, vibrating up and down "Oh, oh, oh! Saw Grace do that before, yes, yes!" he chirped happily.

You smiled at him and nodded. "You and Grace dance together! Rocky choose music!" he decided and stumbled past you in a hurry, rolling right into a box full CDs, squishing the carton, the plastic cases collapsing across the floor. "No! Rocky, stop!" you shrieked, kneeling between the CDs and Rockys ball to clean up the mess of scattered discs "Humans don't just...dance with each other. Not in a platonic way at least" you muttered, pushing Rocky off of the box so you could re-stack the CDs into it.

"What word mean, question?"

You looked up at him to find him already watching you "what...platonic? Uhm, well, that means people are just friends, you know?" you tried to explain to him, and he seemed to ponder over your words for a moment and fiddled with his three claws on each hand.

Grace then rounded the corner "If you guys don't like my company, you could have just said-"

"So...Grace not your mate, question?"

You gasped softly as Grace stopped in the doorway, the joking smile on his face falling straight off as he heard Rockys question.

The erdidian seemingly looked back and forth between you and Grace, impatiently awaiting an answer from one of you. But you just stared back at Ryland and he mimicked your expression. He didn't open his mouth to speak, as if to give you all the freedom to put a label on your relationship, whatever this was, whatever you saw in it.

Grace had a hard time masking the agonizing hope in his expression, how his heart fluttered in his chest at the thought of you telling Rocky that you'd like to be Rylands mate some day, if he wanted you. And god yes, he did.

You turned back to Rocky, your gaze held low as you began to shake your head. Grace exhaled the breath he didn't realise he was holding, deflating into silent disappointment. "No, Rocky. Grace and I aren't mates. We're...just friends. Colleagues" you said, trying to smile and to sound earnest, as if saying this out loud wasn't hurting you in the slightest. Rylands silence just felt like a confirmation of your fear of him not returning your feelings.

Rocky didn't seem to like what he was hearing. He didn't understand the concept of lies, or that lying was even something you could do, but even he felt like something was up "But...you and Grace always together" Rocky chirped sadly, interlocking his hands to show just how close and inseparable you and the blonde molecular scientist were.

You remembered the way Ryland and you slept on the floor together shortly after you woke up from your comas, not being able to sleep without the other one near.

This rhythm faltered when Grace began to stay up later than you, sometimes not sleeping days at a time while you tossed and turned in your room until you learned to fall asleep without his presence. But that didn't stop you two from spending time in the projector room, watching the sunset as he fell asleep against your shoulder from staying up too long, and you forcefully feeding him ramen when he forgot to eat, laughing and giggling with him when as pretended to bite your fingers...

And yet you told yourself he couldn't possibly want you. You were sure that any affection he showed you was merely a byproduct of the forced proximity on the hail mary, a desperate need for human touch so he wouldn't completely go insane. All of this was merely a means to an end. You needed each other, but that didn't mean he was obligated to date you or would automatically fall in love with you just because you were the only human in the radius of twelve lightyears all around.

Though, you would follow him into the heart of a black hole without thinking twice if it meant he would look at you like you were everything. But admitting that would probably only scare him away even more.

"Yeah, but it's not exactly like we have anywhere else to go, really" you snorted, downplaying the longing in your chest with a sad smile "We enjoy each others company. And I'm glad we do, otherwise being stuck with him for all eternity would kinda suck. Right, Grace?" you forced a giggle as you looked over at him, snapping him out of staring at the floor with a blank expression.

"Yes, right. She's right, Rock" Grace muttered clipped, stepping closer to tap Rockys ball "Come on, give the lady some privacy, we gotta keep working anyway" he said and ushered rocky out of the room. The eridian called your name "Be still, be still! Rocky come back to watch sleep!" he promised before he rolled out into the hallway, the rhythmic clank clank clank from the flat sides of the ball hitting the floor soon fading away, and so did the scent of Rylands cologne, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You could have never predicted what would happen in the following days.

It all happened so fast. The first second you thought you were out of danger, and the next the ship started to uncontrollably spin, the centrifugal force quickly growing too strong.

Grace was smashed against the control panels, a large metal pipe had been ripped off the walls and now crushed your leg against the wall you were pressed into by the centrifugal force, while Rocky could barely move in his xenonite tunnels. You cried for Grace to wake up, hot tears streaming down your face as the metal cut into your skin. You reached out your arm to re-activate the gravity settings, but you were too weak to do so, your head feeling like it was about to explode, levers and buttons digging painfully into your back.

You could only hear Rockys distressed screetching, and the breaking of xenonite. The screams turned even louder, sizzling in the air. "Rocky, no!" you panicked, but your voice died out as you finally lost conciousness after fighting it so desperately.

When Grace woke up, thank god, he stumbled after the dark burn marks on the floor, following the trickles of blood throughout them.

His heart beat faster with every step and dropped to his stomach when he saw you collapsed against Rockys xenonite tunnel, where the eridian laid completely motionless and pale. Your leg was bruised purple around the ankle, while blood dried on your feet and toes.

Your head perked up as you heard him approach, your eyes now filled with tears of relief to see him alive. You reached for him when you stumbled, completely forgetting that your leg was most likely broken.

Grace was instantly by your side to catch you in his arms, wrapping you up tightly in them. You sobbed against his shoulders, your hands clawing at the medical gown he wore "Rocky, he's-" you hiccuped, but you couldn't bring yourself to continue speaking. His own eyes filled with tears as he saw Rocky start to move weakly, falling together even further. He chittered softly, tiredly, as if wanting to make sure Grace was alive and safe.

You turned your face away from Rylands neck as you heard it, watching Rocky move closer to the xenonite glass wall "We'll watch you sleep, pal" Grace sniffed above you "But, uh...you gotta wake up" he muttered before his voice got too thick to speak, turning his head away to stop himself from crying.

You on the other hand couldn't hold in your sobs, the sounds making it hard for Grace to keep it together. He felt a tear rolling down his cheek and quickly went to wipe it away. He took a deep breath, trying to focus on anything else but this. He had to be strong for you, at least that's what he told himself. "Come on...we gotta patch up your leg" he swallowed around the lump in his throat, turning you in his arms to slip his under your legs.

You started to struggle in his grip so he couldn't lift you up "Grace- Grace! Let me down!" you protested. "What- why, am I hurting you?" he panicked and quickly set you back down, analysing your leg "No, but you'll hurt yourself! I can handle it on my own..." you muttered, masking your shame as you scooted back over to Rocky until your back hit the xenonite tunnel.

The blonde scientist tilted his head at you "I'll believe you if you can walk back to the med bay all by yourself" and he said it like he knew you couldn't, and that you knew that as well.

You huffed out, your gaze trailing over to where Rocky slept, hopefully. "But...I can't leave Rocky alone" you croaked, your eyes wide and shining brightly with tears when you looked back at Grace. Your expression almost ripped his heart in two. He nodded softly "Right...yes, stay with him. I'll get everything we need"

You could have thanked the stars when Rocky woke up and Grace found a way to breed the taumoeba so they could be used to save your sun.

It was almost too good to be true. Erid and Earth were rescued and you could even return home to see it with your own eyes. But when the taumoeba began to escape their xenonite prison to feed on your astrophage fuel, and you had to choose between flying back home or to save Rocky, the decision was easier than you thought.

And just like that, you found yourself in a house in the biodome the eridians had built for you. Rocky had asked if you wanted to have a house for yourself, but after living with Grace on the hail mary for such a long time, the silence and privacy would almost feel foreign to you. And while the eridians were determinded to make it feel like you were just on a foggy beach vacation on earth, your feelings wouldn't settle.

While the biodome seemed endless, you felt caged in your own head. You shared every meal with Grace, you went on walks along the beach and even slept in the same bed. You were so close, yet so far away. You yearned to just reach out your hand and pull him close, especially when you saw how cute Rocky and Adrian were together.

Right, you had met Adrian, Rockys mate he spoke so fondly of. He was a bit taller than Grace, a towering blue rock with no face and a wedding band on his arm that matched Rockys copper brown colour and texture.

You instantly befriended the giant. He was part of designing the biodome for you and frequently visited to make sure everything was to your liking and would listen to ideas on improvements without complains.

One afternoon, as the light of the simulated sun filtered through the dome, you found yourself staring at the way Adrian leaned into Rocky whenever the smaller eridian arrived. It was so seamless, the way they loved each other, that's probably what happens when you've been together for over 180 years. You wouldn't even get a small procentage of that time with Grace, even if you had asked him weeks ago.

You shouldn’t waste any more time pondering about what his reaction would be if you told him. You had to do this for your own peace, even if it turned the air awkward between you- Rockys offer with building your own house wasn't off the table completely. But how to approach this?

Rocky and Grace were out of earshot as they chased a frisbee across the beach, tackling each other to get to the brightly coloured plastic disc first.

You could tell that Adrian watched them, even though they were already too far away to see clearly.

"Adrian" you suddenly said and Adrian turned in his near skin tight xenonite suit and looking down at your sitting form, despite not having any eyes or other facial features at all. He hummed in a low tone that you felt in your bones, a sign for you to continue. "You and Rocky...how did you, uhm...who asked the other out first?"

If Adrian had brows, they would furrow in confusion "What Adrian ask out of, question?"

You giggled at that, shaking your head, your nerves easing just a tiny bit "No, I mean, uh, did Rocky ask you to be his mate all these years ago?" you asked again, hoping Adrian would understand your wording better this time. "No, Adrian ask." he stated bluntly.

You nodded, staring out at the waves "And...how did you do that? Did you just...go up to Rocky one day and said 'Hey, I like you a lot, wanna be my mate?' and it worked out ever since?" you huffed out, frustrated that the love life of others always seemed way easier than your own. Adrian seemingly giggled at your childish pout, chirping next to you.

"Adrian sing song for Rocky" he simply stated, though he fiddled with his claws as if the memory still made him nervous, in a good way. "Rocky and Adrian sing beautiful song" he continued, stretching out the word beautiful as he held up his hands. "Rocky and Adrian found matching frequency, so we know we found right mate. Only two erdidians share same frequency"

You hummed at his explaination "So, you and Rocky are some kind of soulmates?"

Adrian chittered "Human mates called soulmates, question?"

A blush crossed your cheeks "Yeah, well, some humans believe in soulmates, others don't. Soulmates are supposed to instantly click when they see each other. You know, love at first sight and whatnot" you mumbled, kicking a rock in the sand with your feet before you sat up straighter, absentmindedly drawing shapes into the sand "I don't think soulmates are real, but I guess it's nice to pretend"

Adrian hummed displeased "Human soulmates real" he stated firmly, tapping his claw against the sand. You laughed dryly "Yeah? What makes you so sure?" you retorted back, not expecting an actual answer.

"Adrian see you and Grace. Big, big, big connection!" the large eridian celebrated and if he could actually see colour, he would have watched your face flush a deep pink in embarrassement "Shh! Don't be so loud, he's gonna hear you" you shushed, looking past Adrian to watch Grace fall face first into the sand as he tried to catch the frisbee Rocky had thrown, but it was just too high. A tiny smile formed on your lips at the scene.

"Why Grace not allowed to hear declaration of love, question?" Adrian asked you even louder, to which you had the urge to tackle the huge rock to the ground and shut his mouth, one he didn't have, but you just let out a loud sigh instead, your head held in your hands "Because he doesn't know that I like him! And I don't even know if I want him to know..." you mumbled, wiping away tears before they came.

Adrian visibly shrunk together in pity next to you, his feet scrunching in the sand as he tapped them unsurely. "Why not tell?"

You practically threw your hands in the air "Because he probably doesn't even like me back!"

The blue eridian next to you cooed at your outburst "Why Grace not like only other human on erid, question?"

You point a finger to Adrian "That's exactly the point! Just because I am the only other human on this planet doesn't automatically make him like me that way...and I don't want him to feel like...like he owes me something or that...that we have to be a thing" you sighed deeply, your fingers digging into the cardigan you wore, one Ryland had given you when he noticed there wasn't a jacket in your duffel bag back on the ship.

Adrian could feel you weren't done talking, so he kept quiet, giving you enough space to collect your words carefully. After a beat of silence, you took a short breath "Besides, uhm...I know you guys aren't familiar with this whole earth beauty standard thing, but I'm not...I'm not pretty." You said and gestured down at yourself with a huff "I'm not...not something a guy like him would go for. He looks so perfect, and I look..." you couldn't even finish talking, your throat suddenly feeling too tight to get more words out.

"...smart"

You turned to Adrian with a confused expression "What?"

"Appearance not important to eridians. Adrian see through sound, and I hear smart human" he told you in earnest, making you stop in your tracks "Adrian hear very kind, brave human with big heart"

From Adrians perspective, your chest region was the thing he saw most clearly when looking at you, white soundwaves contrasting around the grey environment around it, a steady beat keeping the imagine of you crisp "Loud, loud, loud heart, lots of love inside"

His description instantly brought tears to your eyes, but he wasn't done "Grace big, big, big, dumb idiot if not hear. Stupid, stupid stupid" he repeated over and over, stomping his feet to the ground to make his feelings known.

You laughed wetly, brushing a hand over your cheeks to wipe away the tears that fell. You went in to awkwardly wrap your arms around the much larger rock, giving him a stiff but thankful hug "Thank you, Adrian" you muttered against his xenonite suit, feeling one heavy arm settle around you.

"Where's my hug at?" suddenly sounded Rylands voice next to you in a joking, deeper tone, holding his arms out, looking so inviting in that fox cardigan that it was hard not to let yourself sink into his embrace.

Just when you were about to stand up with a playful roll of your eyes, Grace was nearly swept off his feet by a very fast Rocky barreling between his legs.

You exploded in a fit of giggles, Adrian chirping next to you and mimicking the sounds. Even though Grace was sure he looked like a mess, he'd gladly look the most stupid if it meant you would laugh so prettily because of him.

Once he was steady on his feet again, he quickly grasped your laughing form and hauled you up against him, grinning with you.

Rocky and Adrian watched you like two proud parents. They knew it was just a matter of time until you and Grace became mates, and Rocky already planned what kind of wedding band he could make you. He was well aware that humans were very inefficient when it came to mating, and that you only got married after years and years of tip-toeing around. He just chose to ignore it.

You on the other hand couldn't ignore the growing ache behind your ribs anymore. Adrian had given you a lot to think, and so had Rocky ever since he joined you on the hail mary.

You needed to get this off your chest, one way or another, even if it meant rejection. Your friendship was stronger than this and would survive, even if he didn't return your feelings. At least you hoped...

You stood in the kitchen, watching him cook some hearty pasta, nothing too fancy, with crossed arms and staring at a fixated point in the wall. Confidence was running thin, and you were already thinking about not doing this today, or ever, just to not ruin the good mood of this evening. But Grace beat you to it when he turned his head to you, his glasses hanging awkwardly from his chin since they became useless from the steam fogging them up.

"You're looking at me like a grew two heads" he grinned, snapping you out of your pity party near the kitchen counter. You stared even more befuddled then, making Grace furrow his brows. "...I haven't grown another head, have I?" he asked a bit panicked then, raising his hands to squish his face and neck to check if he was growing a lump with a tiny face on it. Who knew what all the eridian atmosphere did with the human body over time!

You giggled at that, your nerves easing out of your shoulders as you approached, grasping his wrist to remove his hand from his face so you could replace it with your own instead.

His breath hitched as your warm palm made contact with his stubbled cheek. "Don't worry, I only see one handsome face" you muttered, a faint blush dusting your cheeks. In that moment, Grace cursed himself for not wearing his glasses. He wanted to see you clearly so badly right now.

As if you read his thoughts, your other hand went up to catch his glasses from his chin, lifting it to bring it to his eyes.

While you slowly slid them onto his ears, you leaned closer, slotting your lips against his when his glasses sat perched on top of his nose. Rylands eyes fluttered shut immediately, a sound leaving his lips that reminded you of a thirsty many who found water after years of drought.

Oh, how long he had waited for you to do this so he was finally able to sink into your soft warmth.

Your hands left his glasses and slipped behind his head, one hand sliding beneath the collar of his shirt, the other crawling up into his unruly dirty blonde hair, softly pulling at the strands. Your touch sent a violent shiver down his spine, forming a whimper in the back of his throat that instantly settled to pool low in your belly.

Just when he was about to open his mouth further to let your tongue slip inside did you pull away, as if you had burned yourself.

Rylands eyes slowly blinked open, unfocused and dazed through his glasses that now sat on his face crookedly, the crimson colour of his cheeks matching the one of his plush kissed lips.

His lips were still slightly pursed and his mouth agape, as if his brain wasn't really registering yet that the kiss, unfortunately, had ended way too soon. "I'm sorry" you muttered to him, your heart falling to the pit of your stomach. "...what?" Grace mumbled breathlessly, his eyes squinting through his glasses at you.

"That was...shit, I didn't even ask if I could kiss you, I-" you groaned frustrated, brushing a hand through your hair as you avoided his gaze like the plague. "I...uhm, this was not how I planned this to go..." you muttered under your breath. Grace was still all the way up in the clouds, his jaw too slack to stop your rambling "I actually wanted to tell you that I...that I- fuck, why is this so hard?" you whined helplessly into your hands.

"I like you!" you blurted out then, your heartbeat pounding in your ear "I really, really like you and I've felt like this for quite a while. I just never wanted to make things awkward between us and there were more important things we had to deal with than my stupid, stupid crush on you." you played with your fingers nervously, your cheeks burning up from nerves and embarrassement "I just...I know you don't feel the same a-and that's okay! I get it!" if you had looked up in that moment instead of somewhere behind Rylands shoulder, you would have seen his eyebrows shoot up at your claim. Him? Not feeling the same? That was like saying earth was flat- a painfully wrong statement.

"And I totally prepared for rejection-" you didn't "because yes, this is stupid, and I don't know why I even let myself feel this way! All I want you to know is that I'm sorry, but I just had to get this off my chest somehow and-" finally, your ranting was cut off by Rylands lips on your own, sweet as could be, as if he tried to show you that him cutting you off wasn't anything personal. He didn't want to make you mad.

He could never make you mad.

Now it was your turn to look dazed "The only thing you gotta be sorry for is that you didn't kiss me sooner" he purred, his voice turned gravelly, almost flirty. That line made you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck "Okay Dr. Charisma" you teased, already leaning close for another kiss "That was real smooth, huh?" he grinned, trying not to sound too proud and hopeful, though he was very pleased he came up with it so quickly. "Oh yeah" you grinned, sealing your lips in another kiss. You felt him cheer behind you with his fist in the air then clutched tightly, as if this was he biggest triumph he accomplished, even bigger than saving his homeplanet and erid.

You broke apart again and Grace followed your lips eagerly, though you covered his mouth with your palm, smiling up at him despite the doubt creeping into your chest "And you...y-you really want...this?" you muttered, vaguely gesturing down to your body.

Grace took his time you admire you then, not that he hadn't done that before, from afar, but he'd never get tired of seeing you up close like this. A tiny smile tugged at his lips. Then suddenly, he bent down and wrapped his arms around your thick thighs and hauled you up against him.

You shrieked in surpise, holding onto him by wrapping your arms around his neck, squeezing his face right into your breasts. Oh, he could get used to that...

"See? At least zero gravity didn't mess with my muscles" he grinned, wriggling his brows up at you. You were too taken aback by the fact that Grace could just lift you up like this, so all you did was bark out a disbelieving laugh, giggling as he brought you up the stairs to your bedroom, which you had shared since coming here.

"Where is all that cockiness coming from?" you asked as he threw you onto the bed. He cocked a brow in that specific way that always made you laugh, his lips pursed "Oh I can show you where all that cockiness is coming from" he rasped, heavy on the cock, and you stared at each other before you both burst out laughing, Grace falling face forward into your chest in a fits of giggles "You're so stupid" you chuckled, holding his face in your hands.

"Yeah, stupidly in love with you" he teased with another grin and you rolled your eyes with a loud groan "No that's it, I'm leaving" you said, though you couldn't hide the smile that stretched across your face as you tried to roll off the bed, but Rylands strong arms wrapped around your soft stomach and pulled you back under him.

Your little giggles only stopped when he leaned down to kiss you, his tongue parting your lips to lick into your mouth, the wet suction of lips echoing between you.

Your head was emptied immediately, and you were only able to moan as he claimed your mouth, your hands inching up his firm biceps. When he pulled back to breath, you panted softly, your pupil completely swallowing the colour of your iris "Okay...maybe I'll stay" you whispered breathlessly, staring up at Grace.

"Let me keep convincing you" he muttered, dipping low to push the strap of your tank top down your shoulder, his lips trailing down your neck, kissing the pulse point that fluttered wildly beneath your skin. His fingers found the hem of your shirt, and he paused, looking up at you with an expression that screamed with the pure need he felt for you.

"Can I?"

You just nodded, not trusting your voice right now, your throat tight with anticipation.He pulled the shirt up and over your head, carelessly throwing it behind himself, revealing the soft, full curves of your breasts and the gentle swell of your belly. His breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stared, his eyes tracing every inch of you like he had waited his whole life to see you like this, scrambling to push up his glasses to make sure he saw you properly.

You felt a wave of warmth spread through your chest, chasing away any lingering selfconsciousness in your body. How could you feel bad about yourself when you had Grace looking at you like that?

He leaned down, pressing open mouth kisses across your collarbone and slid down the valley between your breasts with his tongue, his hands gripping your hips with a tenderness that made your eyes sting. But you couldn't bear to be the only one exposed like this, so you sat up to find the hem of his goofy sience shirt, tugging it upward. He leaned back on his haunches just long enough to help you pull it off, revealing his lean, but toned frame. It shouldn’t have surpised you as much as it did, considering how big his biceps were, but you weren't about to complain one bit.

You reached up, tracing the line of his collarbone, the dip of his sternum and how his abs raised under your fingertips. He shivered under your touch. But only when your hand started to wander over his v-line to follow the prominent vein that disappeared into his pants did he stop you, grasping your wrist.

"Lie back" he said, his voice dropping to a low, commanding tone you didn't expected coming from him, your thighs clenching desperately "Wanna make you feel good."

You obeyed, sinking back into the soft mattress as he settled between your legs. His hands slid up your thighs, pushing the pants you wore down your legs and revealing the damp fabric of your underwear. He let out a low groan, pressing his forehead against your stomach like he couldn't believe he was allowed to do this.

Finally.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulled them down slowly, his blue puppy eyes never leaving yours, it made you squirm impatiently under his gaze. When you were completely bare before him, he let out a shaky exhale, his hands gripping your thighs, spreading them wide.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to taste you" he muttered more to himself, though you heard him, but before you could reply, he lowered his head.

The first touch of his tongue against your folds made you gasp, your hips bucking into his face instantly. He let out a low, guttural sound of approval at your eager movements, his grip on your thighs tightening as he licked into you with a slow, savoring rhythm. He was thorough and unhurried, even when his glasses slipped up his forhead, like he had all the time in the universe and he intended to spend every second of it worshipping your body, just to make up for lost time.

Then he found your clit, and everything else ceased to exist.

You moaned, your fingers finding a sturdy grip in his full hair and slid off his glasses, pulling deeply at his roots. A pleasent shiver ran down his spine and coiled at his tailbone to make his hips grind into the matress below. "Oh fuck" he almost whined, the first curse word you ever heard from him muffled by your pussy, followed by a wet slurp of his lips. And my god did it do it for you. You had never heard him curse before, not once in all your time together. Just the surpise of it, that just the taste of your cunt could make him lose all of his composure and principles, sent a jolt of heat straight to your core.

He hummed pleased into your pussy, as if he hadn't noticed himself slip up, and he might as well hadn't with the way his face was shoved up right between your folds, licking and slurping at your hole, while his nose squished itself against your clit.

"Don't stop" you begged, your legs lifting to cage his head between your soft thighs, quivering from the onslaught of pleasure "Please, Grace"

He would never dream of stopping now that he got what he desperately wanted for so long. When you wrapped your thighs around his head, it was over, and he was straight up sent to heaven. He moaned into you in a way that could only be understood as keep going, and you continued to rake your nails over his scalp, keeping his head secure in place when he finally circled your clit with his tongue in tight, precise motions that made your vision go white around the edges.

He sucked, licked and devoured you like a man starved. Oh god, the sounds he made, low and desperate, were the hottest thing you had ever heard. With every hot pant of his, every wet smack of lips made you gush even more into his mouth.

"That's it" he murmured against you, his voice thick and muffled from your thighs. "Cum for me, please" he whined, and you could barely hear his slurred words over the blood rushing in your years. When your foggy mind registered them, you arched into him, suffocating Grace between your slick folds. You didn't think he'd be able to talk this filthy, but you never wanted him to stop now that you knew.

The pressure built and built, coiling tightly in your belly like a spring. You were trembling, grasping his face firmly to desperately rock against him. The way you used him to work yourself closer and closer to the edge almost had him cumming into his pants. His eyes were closed in bliss, his mouth open, tongue out so you could hump against his face without care, your clit getting caught on the tip of his tongue and nose, his lips dragging along your folds with a shaky breath.

When you finally shattered, it was with a cry that echoed off the walls of your newfound home, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you, crushing Rylands head between your thighs.

He didn't stop until you were boneless, your legs falling off his shoulders from exhaustion, your fingers that had locked tightly into his hair finally loosening.

Then he crawled up your body, kissing a trail up your stomach, between your breasts, up your neck until he was hovering over you, his forehead pressed against yours, his sweaty strands of hair sticking to your skin. "You're so pretty" he muttered, utterly enarmored by the dazed look in your eyes. When you came back down from your high, you could feel him pressed against your leg- hard and aching in his sweatpants. You trailled your hands down his chest and finally slipped past his waistband, your fingers wrapping around his length, and he let out a shuddering breath, his eyes fluttering closed.

"Want you inside me" you said, your voice hoarse and raw. "Please, Ryland, I need it"

You've never seen someone move this fast to remove their pants. You gasped as his cock sprang free. He wasn't excessively thick, but my god he was long. You were sure you'd feel him all the way in your throat, and you couldn't wait.

He quickly positioned himself at your glistening entrance, pausing to meet your eyes. "Tell me if it's too much. Tell me if you want to stop, okay?"

You quickly shook your head, grasping his face between your hands "I don't want to stop" you whispered, pulling him down into a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. "I want all of you." you muttered against his teeth, before he shut you up with his tongue invading your mouth.

As the wet muscle pushed between your lips, so did Rylands hips, pushing his cock inside you slowly. You both let out shaky moans at the sensations, your bodies adjusting to the intimacy of being joined after not being this close to another human in ages. Grace stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to the overwhelming fullness, his breath coming in ragged pants.

"C-can I move? Please, let me..." he begged, his voice so thin you barely registered it. You felt his cock all the way in your guts, your throat tight like your pussy around his dick, so you only managed a frantic nod.

He sighed as if you had granted him salvation, beginning to move in a slow, deep rhythm that had you clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. He was careful, so so careful with you regardless, but there was a desperate edge to his movements, a hunger that he was barely keeping in check. You weren't sure if you wanted him to.

"Been so long" Grace panted into your face, his voice breaking. "I don't know how long I'm gonna last." he confessed gingerly, and his claim was underlined by a whorish moan that left him as your pussy squeezed him as he hit that perfect spot inside you.

"Don't care" you gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper. "Just- right there! Don't fucking stop!" you whined, your head thrown back as he brushed it again. He groaned, shifting his angle to hit it again and again, his movements growing faster, more urgent as he fucked into you.

The pressure built again, faster this time, your body tightening around him. He was right there with you, his thrusts growing sloppy, his breath hitching. He quickly went to draw right circles around your clit with his thumb.

"Cum inside me" you whispered, your mouth remaining agape "Please, fill me up"

A visible shiver ran through him at your words, and his fingers itched to lift your legs over his shoulders to press and pound you into the matress, but he shook his head "I-I can't...what if I-" he wheezed, allthough both of you knew he was barely holding on. "You can, and you will" you breathed, locking your ankles behind his back.

He shook above you, closing his eyes tightly as if he could will himself to resists, but he was helpless against your sweet begging, and when you pulled his face to the crook of your neck, whispering into his ear how you wanted to be full of him, he didn't last another second.

Grace keened against your neck as you both tumbled over the edge, your bodies shuddering together. He spilled inside you with a broken moan, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. You panted into each others shoulders, the sweat cooling down your overheated skin. For a long moment, neither of you moved, just basking in the bliss of your shared orgasms.

Ryland pulled out gently, rolling onto his side and pulling you with him, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pressed a sweet kiss to your shoulder, then your neck and lastly your lips. You smiled into the kiss- you totally had to thank Adrian the next time you saw him.

Just when you both got into a comfortable position to cuddle, a loud beeping could be heard downstairs, followed by Armandos robotic voice.

You looked over at Grace with a shocked expression. He looked equally surprised "I forgot to take the food of the stove..." he admitted then, more to himself than to you, rubbing his neck in embarrassment.

You groaned, falling back into the pillows.

"You think Rocky knows anything about Uber eats?"

★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Special thanks to Ryan Gosling eating pussy in "Blue Valentine" (2010) and inspiring this smut <3

After watching Project Hail Mary, I realised that i've been living under the rock and that Ryan Gosling is so fucking hot what is going onnm

His back was absolutly killing him the second he walked through the front door, strained by the weight of his gear and the heavy things he had to lift out of the way all day. A dull and throbbing headache had long settled behind his eyes, making even the dim light in your shared bedroom feel like he was staring directly into the sun.

All he wanted, all he craved with a desperation that borderd on agony, was to pull you against his chest, bury his face in the crook of your neck, and succumb to a dreamless, heavy sleep. He was spent, his energy drained to the very marrow of his bones. But as he was finally able to slip into bed with after a warm shower that loosened the ache in his back just a little, you didn't seem like you wanted to rest.

Instead you were wide awake and aching for his dick to rearrange your insides. You had waited all day for him to get back, though you should have expected he wouldn't return home with a lifted spirit and enough strenght to fuck you more than once.

Leon felt your restlessness as you laid next to him. He didn't even open his eyes as your fingers trailed over his naked chest.

When you didn't get a reaction out of him, your hand slipped even lower "Leon..." you whined softly, your body humming with need and hunger that only he could sate. He scrunched up his nose, but was too tired to actually turn away from you "No" he muttered, to which you leaned in even closer "But I need you so bad" you reasoned, and you found yourself pouting, your lower lip trembling slightly as you watched him trying to drift off.

"Please, Leon" you tried again, your lips comin in contact with his neck, gently sucking there. His head rolled to the side with a tired groan "Baby..." he mumbled, his voice deeper and thick with exhaustion. But even then, you didn't let up, in hopes he'd at least let you ride him.

"Please...I can't...I'm fucking dead on my feet, baby" he let out a long, shuddering sigh, his eyelids fluttering. "Just...use your toys, sweetheart. I'll be right here...just let me sleep for a few hours..." he mumbled and snuggled deeper into the pillows. His suggestion made you huff, a small, frustrated sound in the otherwise quiet room. You didn't want a stiff piece of silicone or a vibrator! You wanted Leon, your beautiful, strong and sexy man, to make you cum.

But as you looked at him, noticing the faint lines of fatigue etched into his forehead that didn't even ease with rest and the way his face was tense with lingering pain- your heart softened. He worked too hard, harder than the stupid DSO even deserved. You had wanted him to quit so many times, because you had to watch him carry the burden of the world that didn't deserve his efforts, and you wanted him to enjoy every second of rest he could get.

If Leons eyes hadn't been closed, he would have seen the exact moment a dangerous idea popped into your mind. You would get your release from Leon, but you would do it in a way that let him stay in his sanctuary of rest.

You moved slowly, shifting your weight as you slid up the side of his body, grasping his left arm. Leon felt your gentle touch, letting out a confused and sleepy noise, his eyes cracking open just a sliver to watch you "What...what are you doing?"

You smiled softly at him "Shhh" you whispered, leaning downward to press a soft, lingering kiss to his temple. "Just sleep, Leon. Close your eyes and let me have this" you said, and he didn't fight you then. If you wanted to hold his hand while you satisfied yourself, who was he to deny his sweet girl? Besides that, he was way too tired to fight anything, and the sound of your voice was like a sedative.

He let his eyes drift shut again, his muscles beginning to slacken as he trusted you completely.

You grinned to yourself as his head rolled to the side, none the wiser, carelessly letting you guide and position his arm as you pleased, until the peak of his biceps was angled perfectly, the whole length of his arm stretched out over your pillow.

You quietly stripped off your sleep shorts and straddled his arm with slow, deliberate movements, as to not disturb him.

You weren't wearing anything underneath, and as you lowered yourself, the first contact was electric. You pressed your soaking wet pussy directly onto the hard curve of his bicep. The contrast of your soft, plush folds against his muscles that were hard even in sleep was making you bite your lip to keep quiet. Your pussy lips parted wide, sliding over the circumference of his bicep, enveloping the muscle in a warm and slick embrace.

Leons breath hitched and his head snapped into your direction as he felt the sudden heat of you, the way you were dripping on him and coating his arm in your arousal.

He watched your folds part easily, your clit peeking out swollen and begging for touch. "Fuck..." he rasped, his voice sounding like it's been dragged over gravel. "You're...you're so fucking wet, baby." he mumbled in awe.

You rocked forward experimentally and a sharp inhale escaped you, your eyes squeezing shut as the friction hit just right. With every downward press, your clit caught on a thick, prominent vein that mapped the length of his bicep and slithered down his strong forearm, and you let out the softest, neediest moan, your head falling back as you found the perfect rhythm.

Your thighs flexed, spreading wider to let Leons biceps nestle deeper into your crotch, the raised scars and veins catching on your inner lips with each forward thrust. Your clit throbbed visibly, rubbing raw against the blonde hair on his arm.

Leon was no longer trying to sleep. He was trapped in a haze of pleasure and exhaustion, his mind reeling from the sensation of your drenched pussy sliding and gripping his arm. He could feel the sheer intensity of your arousal that bordered on desperation, and he felt guilty that he left his girl so needy for him- though on the other hand he wouldn't have witnessed this sexy display of your eagerness otherwise.

"You're throbbing, sweet girl" he groaned, his voice dropping an octave, his jaw slack in awe and hunger "I can feel your little cunt pulsing against me... does it feel that good, baby?"

His sleepy voice only made you grind harder, your bounces turning frantic, your pussy easily sliding over his arm. "Uh-huh" you whined out dumbly, your tits jiggling in the sleep shirt you wore, which was just one of Leons old band shirts, your nipples pebbling against the fabric.

You couldn't help but increase your pace, your hips snapping forward to grind your clit relentlessly against that thick vein. God, his veins felt even better than they looked, pronounced enough for your clit to send hot pleasure through your core every time it caught on in. You were helplessly mewling now, your legs beginning to tremble with the effort of staying upright. You caged his arm firmly between your legs, so you wouldn't slide off, which wouldn't have taken much considering how drenced your pussy was. His bicep would probably be pruney by the time you were done.

Leon, despite his fatigue, responded to your cute moans. He didn't move his arm away, not that he had any room to do so, but began to flex instead. Rhythmically, he started to contract his bicep, the muscle hardening and expanding beneath you, pushing back against your pussy with steady pressure. The hardness caught on your entrance, and you tried fuck yourself back onto it with a gasp.

"Yes! right there...Leon- please..." you whimpered, your voice breaking. "That's it, such a good girl" he panted, a small, smug smile curling on his lips even though his eyes were barely open. "Just take it...ride me baby" he quickly learned your pattern, flexing exactly the moment your clit dragged over his vein, which now bulged even more, to put as much pressure on the oversensitive nub as he could.

The combination of his flexing muscle and your own frantic grinding quickly became too much. The world narrowed down to the point of contact between your clit and his arm. "L-Leon I'm...I'm gonna cum-!" you could barely get the words out before your pussy slid just right over his raised veins and you shattered.

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, a violent release that made your entire body stiffen. You let out a loud, piercing cry, your pussy gushing and creaming all over his bicep and the crook of his arm.

You collapsed against him for a moment, your chest heaving, your heart hammering against your ribs as you tried to calm your breathing against his neck, all while he whispered sweet praises into your ear. As the tremors slowly subsided, you slid down his arm, but you didn't move away, allthough Leon expected you to finally cuddle up to him.

You sat next to him on the bed and looked at his arm, which was still stretched out across the pillow because he was too lazy to move it, admiring the way it glistened like sugar coated candy. You wondered if he tasted just as sweet. You maintained intense, unwavering eye contact with him as you leaned down, his heart soaring in his throat as he realised what you were about to do.

Slowly, when your face was just an inch away from his bicep, you extended your tongue and began to lick your own juices off his skin.

You swirled your tongue obscenely around the thick vein you had been riding, tasting the salt of his skin mixed with the musk of your own creamy arousal, softly biting the flesh, kissing and sucking the plushness of it into your mouth.

Leons eyes widened, mouth falling open as he felt the hotness of your tongue against him, watching how the wet muscle worked over the dips and dents in his muscles and tendons. The hunger in your eyes and the sheer audacity of the act made his breath quicken. "Fuck" he whispers, his voice thick with newfound lust. "Can you get any hotter? You're killing me over here, baby" Leon groaned.

With a satisfied grin, you pulled back once he was all cleaned, a thick string of saliva connecting your lips to his arm.

You wiped it off and climbed over him to settle back against his side with a pleased hum, and he immediately wrapped his strong arm around your shoulders, hooking your leg over his middle with the other and holding it there with a firm grip.

You smiled to yourself, leaning up to catch his mouth in a series of kisses. "Mhm, sexy" he muttered between the presses of your mouth, making you giggle. "You think so?" you taunted, tracing shapes into his soft and warm pecs. Leon nodded with the most tired and faint smile on his lips "Oh yeah. I'm going to eat out that greedy pussy of yours tomorrow, as much as you like. My pretty girl earned it" he muttered against the crown of your head, kissing you there.

"But only if I get to suck your cock" you purred and bit your bottom lip, your hands sliding over the broad expanse of his chest, your fingers gently curling around the short hair there. Leon chuckled- how could he say no to that?

He leaned back into the pillow, his eyes slipping closed, long lashes fluttering against his cheek.

"Deal."

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

This fic is a bit shorter than what I usually do for a one shot, but it was a last minute idea to write this because I am just so down bad for this man I can't do this

The T-virus broke loose in the facility shortly after you and your work partner Leon arrived.

After successfully taking down the first wave in the rehabilitation center, you proposed to split up. The sanatorium was huge, and you two could cover more ground that way. And if one of you found either Dr. Gideon or Grace, you could quickly alert the other through your speaker comms.

"How's it going for you, old man? Found anything interesting yet?" your words cackled through his earpiece and Leon had to stifle a sigh of relief every time he heard your voice, even when it was just to mess with him. He wasn't particulary fond of the idea of letting you wander these halls alone. He knew you were capable, but you never willingly split up on any mission until now. He was just...a little worried. That's all.

You could tell Leon was smirking at the other end of the hospital "No, ma'am. Just took down three infected staff members and got some old reports here" he answered back, and you could hear the flipping of pages "...ain't readin' all that" he muttered quietly to himself, to which you giggled.

"Same for me, but it's pretty chill down here. Haven't come across an infected patient in quite a bit" you said, holding your gun as you rounded a corner cautiously, only to find the hallway to be empty.

Leon on the other hand sneaked into a laboratory. The lights flickered on as he entered, gun cocked, ears strained to hear faint gurgling- but the room was clear. Some drawers seemed to have been raided and emptied, blood smeared on the ground and equipment scattered everywhere. Books, notes and reports laid open, though Leon didn't bother to read any of them. Maybe Grace had been here before him, frantically searching the lockers for a weapon or key to get out of here.

Leon reached for the comm around his neck "I think Grace might have been here" he informed you, sending you his location. "Could she be nearby?" you shot back quickly, crouching in front of a door, picking it's lock with a hair pin. "Don't know, maybe she's-' Leon started, but before he could finish his sentence, you heard a gutteral roar on the other side, followed by glass breaking and gunshots.

You pressed your earpiece harder into your ear to make sure you just heard that right "Leon? Leon- are you okay?" you shouted in worry, your heart hammering against your chest as static answered you.

After a few seconds of silence, which felt like hours, Leon finally spoke again. "I'm fine...just- fuck...it's too hot, can't think" he panted, his voice strained and stripped of it's usual composure. He braced himself against a table, his nails scraping the surface as he tried not to inhale any more vapor than he already had. Was he dying? His body was buzzing with heat that felt like it was burning him from the inside out, his breath hitching in a way that sounded less like pain and more like agonizing, desperate hunger. He couldn't even properly register your voice over the blood rushing in his ears- and elsewhere.

"Leon! Leon, can you hear me? Talk to me! What happened!?" you yelled through the speaker comm, the locked door completely abandoned as you checked your watch for the coordinates he sent you.

Sweat beaded at his brow, the collar of his shirt feeling impossibly tight and suffocating, but he pushed himself to answer you. "Some...shit, some bastard tried to sneak up on me." he pressed out, swallowing thickly, making you stop in your tracks to listen to him. "I uh...I took him down and he smashed into these glass vials. Spilled this liquid everywhere and I...fuck...I inhaled it" he tried to explain through the cloudy haze in his mind.

"Stay where you are" you commanded as you turned to sprint down the corridor and up the stairs. Leon shook his head, even though you couldn't see it "Don't... don't come here" he groaned, the words pressing out of his throat in a low, needy whine that sent a sudden shiver down your spine. "You bet your sweet ass that I'm already on my way, Kennedy" you growled in anger at his dismissive nature regarding his own health- and Leon knew you were pissed when you called him just by his last name.

By the time you burst through the heavy double doors of the laboratory, Leon was already a needy mess.He had shed his tactical gear from the heat, the zipper on his compression shirt pulled down all the way to reveal his sweaty chest and his dirty blonde hair falling over his eyes that were glazed over with a raw, primal lust. He was slumped against a workstation, his chest heaving and barely standing upright.

"Fuck, Leon!" You rushed to his side, your hands hovering over him in worry. As your palm made contact with his forehead, he groaned as if in pain "Shit- you're burning up!" you panicked, not knowing what to do- or how long he had left.

Was he dying? Was he going to mutate? You had to act quickly somehow. "Okay... alright, breathe, I'm going to fix this, okay?" You rambled, more to yourself than to him.

"They gotta have some records of this lying around here, they love writing this shit down" you mumbled sharply as you scanned the room for any kind of notes or reports. You completely turned the room upside down, dismissing some unimportant scribbles and copies that didn't help your problem at all.

Then you found a text with an attached sketch- it matched the vial smashed on the floor with dark pink liquid staining the tiles, faint smoke curling upwards. You skimmed the text quickly, the paper crumbling under your shaking hands.

Having the liquid directly injected into the body seemed to be causing rapid burns, mutation of the skin and involuntary seizures of muscles, turning the brain to mush over time, until the patient returned to their basic instincts. Inhaling it on the other hand made the substance act as a potent synthetic aphrodisiac, which stripped away a subjects inhibitions and reduced them to their most basic, primal reproductive needs. The further the notes went, the more explicit they got- the arousal was described to be excruciating and relentless, a physical torture that would only fade once the patient achieved a full sexual release.

You looked back at Leon, your eyes falling down to his groin, where you caught sight of a very prominent bulge in his pants. His cock was as hard as a rock, painfully so, and he was visibly leaking, his pre-cum spreading through the fabric as a dark stain.

You let out a disbelieving bark, brushing a hand through your hair. What were you even supposed to do now?

You turned back to him. Leon was biting his hand as the unbareable pressure in his groin started to hurt badly "Leon, look at me" you whispered, reaching out to touch his shoulder. He peeled his head away to look at you, drool slipping from his lips. He looked so wrecked, so desperate, it crushed you as much as it turned you on.

"It's an aphrodisiac. You're not dying, but this isn't going to go away either. Not until...not until you had sex-" you started but he cut you off, shaking his head in clear refusal at your proposal. "No, not like this. I ain't taking advantage of you" he rasped, a wounded sound escaping his throat as he tried to turn away from you, trying to fight the hunger inside that threatened to starve him. He wouldn't do this, wouldn't pressure you into thinking you were just helping- doing the right thing, that it was your job to get him out of the misery he put himself in.

You were partners, after all. That's what good partners did, right? These lines already began to blur a while ago, and Leon didn't know if he could go back if you completely crossed them now.

"Leon, you're not taking advantage of anyone! You're in pain, you need help-!" you tried to reason, but he shoved you aside. "Grace is being experimented on by Victor right this second, if she isn't dead already, and I have nothing better to do than to pop a boner like some virgin teenage boy!" he shouted at you, his anger overpowering the lust in his body for just a moment. "We have a job to do, and I will finish it" he growled determinded, his chest heaving as he squeezed his eyes shut when the heat came back double.

You frowned in worry, as if his words hadn't done much to make you change your mind. You stepped closer to him despite everything, and your scent- warm, sweet, fertile- hit him like a physical blow. His nose crinkled, as if he could will himself to resist. "Leon..." you muttered, your hand squeezing his shoulder gently. God, your voice, what an alluring melody that forced open his eyes to take you in. Your plush and curvy figure, the softness of your hips and the fullness of your breasts and stomach seemed to act like gasoline being poured into fire.

Leons resolve snapped the moment your hand slid from his shoulder to the nape of his neck and he collapsed to his knees, his forehead resting against your stomach with a desperate, sobbing plea.

"Please" he whimpered, his voice breaking. Leon sounded like a man who had been starving for a lifetime, and maybe he had. "God, please...I can't take it. It hurts so fucking much. You smell so good... you're so perfect. I just want to be inside you. I need to fill you up."

The sight of the Leon S. Kennedy, the grumpy and closed off DSO agent, reduced to a whiny, needy mess at your feet was an aphrodisiac of its own, not that you hadn't found him insanely attractive before. How could you not find him handsome? You just assumed that a man like him would never go for a woman like you, they usually prefered the bone-skinny model type, but it seemed like Leon greatly appreciated your soft body.

You reached down after taking a second to process all of this, cupping his face and tilting his head back to watch sheer desperation cloud his blue eyes. He looked so hungry, so utterly wrecked by desire, that you couldn't resist. Before you had fully dropped to your knees as well, your lips crashed together in a messy kiss, tongues darting out to tangle with the other. Leon groaned at the contact as if you had just granted him salvation.

You didn't have much time, so you only shed your pants and underwear in a frenzy. Even if you hadn't been in a hurry, Leon wouldn't have been able to take his sweet time with you. He wanted to, fuck of course he wanted to learn every texture and curve you had, and he promised to do it another time. Right now, all he needed was relief, and he was sure to find it in your beautiful fat pussy.

His cock sprang free as you practically ripped his boxers away, angry and pulsing, a deep crimson red at the tip that spoke of the pressure building behind it. It was leaking heavily, his shaft glistening as if it had been lubed up. Saliva pooled in your mouth at the sight, the stiffness of his dick curving towards his navel was just begging to be touched. Leon let out a pathetic, high pitched moan as you did, wrapping your fingers around him, his hips jerking upward instinctively as your thumb circled the spot under his head. "Fuck, yes...right there" he gasped, his voice a ragged whisper.

You could have sat there for all of enternity just feeling the weight of him in your palm while jerking him off, but Leon was needy. So needy. "Please, baby, I need it. Need your pussy. I wanna breed you...want to pump so much cum inside you that it sticks." He started to babble almost incoherently.

Leon couldn't believe what he was saying, but there wasn't even a trace of dignity left in him to care at all.

You nodded quickly and wrapped your arms around his neck. Leon hauled you up as if you weighed nothing and softly slid you onto a cold examination table, despite his desperation. You instantly spread your legs wide to invite him, swirling your fingers that were slick with his precum around your hole to lube you a bit more, as you new Leon would be anything but gentle in his state.

He bit your neck as if to mark and hold you in place as he pressed himself between your plush thighs. You knew he wouldn't enter you slowly or give you time to adjust- still, the pressure took your breath away as he buried himself with one desperate thrust all the way inside, stretching your pussy to her limits.

Leon let out a loud, guttural cry, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as the friction finally hit his overstimulated nerves. He began to pump into you with a frantic rhythm, his movements lacking any sort of control. He was only fucking you with the raw and animalistic need brewing inside him.

He was so whiny and vocal, pathetically sobbing into your shoulder, telling you how much he missed this, how long it had been since he felt something this warm and tight around him. It made your pussy gush around him, easing the slick slide even more.

You weren't any better though. You clung to him helplessly, mewling while he hammered into your cunt, your hands slipping beneath his collar to scratch open his back.

"You're so...warm 'n soft. Feels so fucking good" he groaned, his voice thick with arousal as he hammered his hips into your pussy over and over again, the sound of wet skin slapping against skin echoing through the sterile room. "Gonna fill you up so much...give you everythin' i've got. You're going to take it all for me, right? You're going to let me breed this pretty pussy right here, yeah?" he asked you frantically, begging you to say that he was allowed, that he could cum in you as many times as his heart desired.

You didn't know just what your desperate nodding would do to him once you wrapped your legs around his waist.

"Oh god, Leon!" you shrieked as he climbed higher up your body as best as he could while still having both feet on the ground- the new angle making it easier for him to let his hips just fall into your pussy, hitting your cervix with every sloppy thrust.

He was trembling at the constant, obscene plap plap plap echoing from your joining, your arousal dripping around him. You felt him swell in you, throbbing violently against your gummy walls. You mewled as your own orgasm approached. "L-Leon, oh fuck! I'm gonna cum" you whined, biting your lip as his frantic pace threw you over. You wailed into his neck, your toes curling and your cunt fluttering around his shaft. Leon yelled and came with a full body shudder as he flooded your insides. You felt the relentless pressure of him filling you up.

You thought this was it, that you had overcome this weird drug, but for Leon- there was no relief. Instead of softening, his cock remained rock hard, the heat continuing to surge through him in waves as if it had only gotten worse.

You caught a break for just a moment before he suddenly started to move again. "Shit- Leon!" you whined, your hands digging into his shoulders as he drove back into your overstimulated pussy. He didn't stop, he just couldn't. He kept fucking you, his pace even harsher than before "I-I can't stop...I can't stop...I'm sorry, baby" he whimpered, his voice sounding small and needy even as he fucked himself into you despite your protests. "I need more. I need to give you more."

As the minutes stretched into an hour, you lost track of how many orgasms you had, much less how many times Leon came in you.

At first the overstimulation had been pleasurable, but now the constant stimulation of his cock dragging in and out of you began to border on actual pain. Your pussy was so sore, as were your nipples since Leon had pulled up your shirt to nurse and suck on them to busy his mouth.

You whimpered, your body shaking weakly from the intensity of your repeated orgasms. You couldn't feel your legs, Leon had to scoop them up over his shoulders to prevent them from falling off the sides of the table, your arms laying limb by your side. "Leon..." you whimpered helplessly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He paused for a second, his face etched with a mixture of guilt and uncontrollable lust as he looked down at your miserable self, cooing soft apologies against the raw bitten skin of your tits."I know, I know...I'm sorry, sweetheart... I'm so sorry" he whispered back, soothing the ache of his bitemarks on your breasts with kisses "but I have to...I just have to keep going. Please, just a little more."

You nodded gently, your body tired, the amount of cum he pumped into you already beginning to leak from your hole and dripping down the table to pool between Leons feet on the floor. He kept going reardless and came again and again, each orgasm producing more cum than the last. It was so much, too much, it felt like he had carved his way into your cervix to fill up your womb directly. You felt so full, your pussy could barely hold it all. It squelched out of your used hole every time he bottomed out.

Despite the pain and rawness you felt in your cunt and clit, another orgasm was approaching you. The building of your climax overshadowed the burning stretch in your stomach, though it was no less uncomfortable. "Leon, please, I- I can't" you hiccupped, your arms too heavy to try and shove him off of you. You weren't even sure if he had heard your small, hoarse voice over his loud panting.

He couldn't form proper words anymore, so he leaned down to kiss you and soothe your cries as his pace picked up again, his cock slipping easily in and out of your pussy with sloppy thrusts, though it felt like he was ripping you apart. His hands roamed your body with surprising softness, as if to apologize and thank you for providing him relief, to show you just how much he appreciated you. It made your burning orgasm just a bit more bearable, a choked cry leaving your lips as you gushed around his cock for what felt like the 100th time.

Leon then let out one final, long, shaking cry, his entire body convulsing as he delivered a massive, last load deep inside you, his cock pulsing rhythmically as he emptied himself completely against your cervix. You whined helplessly, feeling like your abdomen was going to burst if he kept going.

Luckily, Leon seemed to finally be completely spent, his movements reduced to a slight rocking motion before coming to a halt when his muscles began to give out.

He collapsed on top of you, his sweaty chest heaving, his face buried in your neck. He was dead weight, and so were you, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. "You done?" you panted quietly, your head swimming. You felt him nod against you, responding with an affirmative groan.

You laid there for a long time, the only sound in the laboratory being the synchronized thumping of your two exhausted hearts. You gently brushed your fingers through his damp hair, kissing the back of his neck, tasting the salt of his sweat and soothing the lingering, shaky cries that escaped him as the drug finally began to leave his system after overloading his senses in every possible way.

"Leon, could you...pull out?" you winced softly as the haze in his mind faded and he instantly shifted to do so. You both grimaced as his cum leaked out of you in thick, white rivers, splashing onto the tiled floor. The desperation in his eyes was replaced by a sudden wave of embarrassment. Your pussy was gaping, swollen and red, and you sniffled as you tried to sit up.

Leon was instantly at your side, helping you sit properly, only now realising the damage he had caused. Your legs were shaking even when sitting, and your breasts were covered in bite marks, beard burns, bruises and spit. "Shit, I'm- I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking, I-" he started to ramble, trying to find something he could clean you up with.

You watched him pace from your seat on the table, softly smiling through the exhaustion, pulling your shirt and bra down again to cover your body.

He was so careful when cleaning and dressing you, it almost made you cry. Your body was aching everywhere, and even if you had known before- you would still have helped him. "It's okay Leon, really. I'm just glad you're feeling better" you said, your voice clearer after sipping water from the flask secured to your pants.

"I hurt you" he muttered as he zipped up his shirt again and tightened the straps of his gear. "Leon..." you started but he cut you off "No, I...you asked me to stop and I...I didn't" he growled in anger at himself. You slipped from the table to walk over to him, but your shaky knees buckled and he caught you against his chest "This wasn't you, you weren't in your right mind. And I wanted to help you, you know that" you said, trying to get it into his stubborn head. You knew he felt bad, impossibly so, but he didn't have to beat himself up over something that was out of his control, allthough old habits die hard.

"It's my fault you can't walk properly" he mumbled then as you took his face between your palms, suddenly being more interested in your lips. You giggled at that "Wouldn’t have expected anything else from Mr. Kennedy" you purred and he rolled his eyes, though you got a little proud smirk out of him.

"Come on, old man. We still have a job to do. We can continue this in my bedroom when all of this is finally over" you winked and went to kiss the corner of his mouth. Leon huffed, but straightened back up with your arm slung around his shoulders.

"Yes, ma'am"

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

i cannot keep pretending I'm not actually SO down bad for this man like UGHH I moan every fucking time I see him, I need him IN ME😩

In the needy haze of his lips crashing onto yours he muttered a half-assed explaination as to what happened- mentioning some hospital and elpis, whatever the hell that was. But how could you really care if your husband was desperately trying to fuse himself to you like back in your wedding night?

It had been such a long time since you and Leon had sex. Actual, satisfying sex. Due to his disease, he had been in pain, feeling insecure of the marks spreading more and more over his skin every day, and often just fell asleep before you could try anything. Sometimes the DSO whisked him away for weeks on end, leaving you alone with your fingers, though without your husband here you didn't even feel like masturbating.

"God, I missed you, baby" he groaned deeply in his throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated need that vibrated against your lips, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to taste you with a desperation that left you feeling lightheaded.

Your breath hitched into his mouth, his tongue tangling with yours. Your heart was hammering against your ribs as his hand slid down your body and hauled you up against him.

Your hands lifted to his chest to steady yourself and then you felt it, the hard ridge of his cock pressing through his trousers against your clothed pussy, the bulge straining the fabric. You gasped "Leon..." you had almost forgotten the last time he sported a boner like this, as the disease had stolen his stamina and his libido, but now he was hard as a rock and ready to fuck your brains out- it made your pussy gush just thinking about it.

He threw you onto your shared bed and stripped you with frantic pulls that almost ripped the garments apart, his fingers trembling from the sheer amount of desire he felt. He revealed your drenched panties and let out a shaky, needy whine. "Fuck, you're soaked already" his breath puffed hot against your covered pussy, and before you could respond, he licked a broad stripe over your panties.

Your gasp of pleasure was short lived as it turned into one of shock when you heard fabric tearing, Leons teeth sinking into the elastic to bite and rip it off of you. "Leon!" was all you managed to squeak because this- this was so hot.

"Sorry baby, gonna get you new ones" he sighed, burying himself between your legs. "Maybe not, like you better this way" he muttered, his words already slurred as he lost himself in your scent. You were dripping against his face, obscenely so, but how could you help yourself? You had been needy for your husband for months, you didn't even think you would last long like this.

Leon pulled back just enough to admire your cunt, your pussy lips slick and sticky with your arousal, parting to him like a rose that was in desperate need to be devoured.

His thumb found your clit "Look at this needy little clit" he groaned, rubbing you in slow circles. You whined above him, your pussy clenching around nothing. "Fuck, you're leaking even more now, feels that good? Has your pussy missed me this much, baby?" his words felt almost taunting, but his eyes were wide with actual pity.

You only nodded dumbly, your eyes wet with tears threatening to spill over if he didn't fill you up the next second.

His brows lifted softly in pity, kissing the inside of your thigh as an apology "Oh baby, im so sorry. I'll never leave you needy again. Gonna make you feel so good, I promise" he whispered, licking the arousal that had smeared on your thighs, and despite his own desperation, his tongue found your clit and swirled around the sensitive nub, while his fingers slid deep into your drenched hole.

You cried out, your fingers digging into his strong shoulders, your hips bucking upward against his face. You were so wet that every movement created a loud, squelching sound, the friction of his fingers thrusting in and out of you making you mewl.

Leon cursed lowly into your pussy as he felt your swollen, hot walls wrap around his digits, slimy and pulsing in need. He could only imagine how sensitive you must have felt. He looked up at you, his brows furrowed and his nose crinkled in that specific, beautiful way when he was overwhelmed by pleasure and need, his mouth hanging open as he watched you writher under his tongue.

"Please! Please...Leon..." you almost hiccuped, your thighs quivering around his head. You needed him now, right now, you felt like you were dying without him.

He stopped his hips that had unconciously humped the matress below while tasting you "Yes, sweet girl. Give me a second, shhh" he cooed to you as he watched fat tears roll over your rosy cheeks. God, he was about to cry himself, the need in him clawing out of his chest. He didn't made you wait any longer after he practically ripped his own clothes off and gripped your thighs, pulling your pussy flush against his core.

His cock throbbed helplessly against your cunt, and you desperately wriggled against it. He lined himself up with your hole, finally, and buried himself to the hilt with one slow thrust to savor the feeling of your walls opening up to swallow him.

The sensation was overwhelming. You whined so loud your neighbors probably knew Leon was finally back, your back arching as he invaded your pussy with little resitance. Leon let out a loud, guttural moan, his face twisting in a mask of pure ecstasy as he slipped right into your cunt, his veined cock sliding easily inside.

"Fuck...you feel even better than I remember" he whimpered, the sound almost whiny in its desperation. He started to move, and the pace was relentless.

Plap, plap, plap

The sound of his pelvis slamming against your soaking wet folds filled the room, a wet, fleshy slapping that had him groaning, your arousal smearing all over his abdomen. The suction of your pussy dragged him in almost automatically, your cunt so drenched that it drooled onto the sheets.

Leon cursed under his breath as he looked down at himself, your juices splashing up his abs with every plunge, watching where his dick disappeared inside you over and over, your slick coating him in a high, glossy finish. The harder he pounded you, the creamier and whiter your arousal became "God, she's practically sucking me in, creamin' all over me. Needed her man real bad, huh?" he panted with a soft smirk, sweat beading down his chest. He had gotten soft in all the right places, so his pecs jiggled with every thrust. You only whined in response.

As he pumped away like a man gone mad, his thumb found your clit again, grinding into the swollen flesh with a steady, punishing pressure that had your legs shaking. The coil in your belly tightened impossibly further, the dual assault on your body making you see stars. You wrapped your legs around his waist as if on instinct, locking your ankles behind his back, anchoring him to you so he couldn't possibly pull out. It was like all your brain function had been reduced to this, the air in the room so humid it was suffocating you.

Just this simple action of trapping him with your legs had something shortcircut in Leons brain and he leaned forward, his large arms on either side of your head, caging you in, your face gently squished by his biceps.

His mouth was opened in a moan, drooling into your mouth. He looked like he was desperately trying to hold himself back, even when his hips continued to fall into you with a wet plap, over and over. "Shit- baby, if you keep this up, m'gonna cum inside you"

The thought instantly made your pussy flutter violently around him, a clear, physical invitation. You moaned his name, a broken and desperate sound, begging him for more, clawing at his muscular back to keep him pressed to you.

He responded with a resolve-breaking groan, his head falling forward between his shoulders with a disbelieving laugh when he felt your feet dig even harder into the dimples on his back. "You really want to make me a daddy, huh? Should I make you a pretty mommy? Nice 'n swollen with my kid?" he rasped, his damp hair tickling your face.

You nodded throughout his words, desperately so, trying to form a coherent thought "Yes! Yes yes yes, please, Leon- fill me up!" you wailed, like you would face eternal torture if he didn't fill you to the brim right now. You clung to him like a koala, your hands grabbing onto anything they could reach, anchoring themselves into the sweaty dips of his muscles.

"That's it, hold onto me" he panted, his dusted chest sliding against your tits with every thrust, sweat dripping from his brow. "Don't let me go, baby. Gonna hold you tight."

He cradled your head in his arms and lost all control. His rhythmic pace accelerated, his thrusts becoming shorter, faster and more violent, the tip of his cock abusing your cervix. He was fucking you with a desperation that bordered on aggression, your bodies shining with sweat, the smell of sex and musk filling the air. His mouth hung over yours, slack, your tongues lazily tangling as he leaned down to dip it into your mouth, his bottom lip slick with drool.

"Baby...im about to cum. Let me cum inside, yeah? Yes baby, just open up f'me" his voice grew thinner, his cock throbbing heavily in your cunt as his orgasm approached.

You felt your own climax building, a tidal wave of pleasure that started in your core and crashed downward. Your orgasm made you scream from the sheer force of it rocking your body, your pussy spasming and milking Leons cock, not wanting to let go of him. You wailed helplessly in his arms, biting into his shoulder from the overstimulation.

Leons face scrunched up in that beautiful, pained expression of bliss as he felt you cum around him. He let out a loud, unrestrained shout, his body stiffening as he deliverd one final hard thrust, burying himself as deep as humanly possible.

He groaned- a long, shaking sound as he erupted inside you. You could feel the hot, thick ropes of his cum hitting your cervix, filling your womb, bubbling out around his shaft while he softly rocked his hips to keep it where it belonged. He didn't immediately pull away, he stayed buried inside you instead, both of you trying to catch your breath.

Your whole body was buzzing and shivering, even Leons arms were trembling softly, his forhead pressed to yours, his soft lips kissing away some stray tears on your cheeks.

"You were so good for me, such a good girl" he whispered then, gently pulling out of you to not overwhelm you, his cum spilling from your gaping cunt. You hissed as something hot leaked out of you, but your head was still too far up in the clouds for you to care. Both of you should have hit the showers, but you couldn't bring yourself to move. Leon tried his best to clean you up just a little, opening the window so the cool night air would dry off your sweat.

He slipped into the sheets behind you, pulling you close to him by the tummy, his lips quickly finding your neck to kiss. His slow breathing made shivers run over your arms, you just loved hearing him exhale a little heavier.

You snuggled up to him, just now realising that Leon, your Leon was finally home and would stay for a while. You had to fear for his life every mission, but he had made it. That he was miraculously cured was just a bonus. You gently played with his hand where he wore his wedding ring, interlacing your fingers together. "What do you think about a relaxing bath tomorrow, mhm?" he muttered against your shoulder, his middle finger tracing patterns over your exposed belly.

"Bubble bath" you yawned sleepily, softly stretching out in his arms before you settled heavier for sleep. He smiled gently.

"Bubble bath it is"

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ugh i feel like this was super bad and that i could have done better honestly

Like- it's just so out of character for Leon to talk a whole lot, but i really want him to grunt all these filthy things into my ear ughhh how do I make it sound in character

His eyes fluttered open to warm light, trying to regain his focus. He was a mess, dried blood clung to him from scratches and bites that littered his arms, a reminder of the mutated patients he had to fight before Dr. Gideon found him, choking him unconcious and leaving purple blooming bruises along hs neck.

Leons gaze landed on someone standing not to far from him- and his expression darkened. Only when he realised the plump figure in front of him was a woman did he raise his eyebrow in question. Who were you? This didn't seem like the sanatorium at all.

He looked around himself- he was in a bedroom, a very luxurious one at that, a king sized bed occupying the warm space draped in wood and burgundy silk. You also looked too pretty to do harm, where the hell had Victor taken him? Silence stretched between you and the DSO agent, until you finally decided to speak up "It is nice to meet you, Mr. Kennedy" you said truthfully, your voice kind. Leon nodded ever so slightly, not knowing what to make of you just yet.

You turned to fetch something off the night stand and approached him, your curvy frame straining against the simple-cut dress you wore. His eyes followed your curves, the way the fabric seemed to hug your breasts and hips perfectly.

Leon couldn't help but swallow thickly.

You smiled gently as you leaned down to his height, his gaze dropping lower to your cleavage. You dipped a warm cloth into the basin of water you had brought, smelling faintly of soothing herbs. As the rag made contact with his face, he flinched ever so slightly, you almost didn't catch it. "Shh, it's okay" you murmured, your voice like velvet as you cleaned his skin from the blood splatters that marked his cheeks, holding his jaw steady with the other hand "You've been through hell out there. Let me take care of you."

Leons breath hitched, his body tensing under the restraints. He was probably in great danger, but your words were like a sirens call, he couldn't bring himself to care. It had been ages since a woman had touched him like this, so soft and nurturing. The DSO was very demanding, and while he tried to pick up some ladies in a club, the second he was nursing his whiskey at the bar, he wasn't really interested in an one night stand anymore.

Your touch sent warmth spreading through him, pooling low in his gut, especially as you cooed pitifully at his bruises.

Leon shifted uncomfortably, his cock twitching in his pants like he was some sort of horny highschooler that needed to get laid. He just couldn't hide the growing bulge, and his face flushed, ashamed.

You noticed, of course you did, but your expression remained tender. It was an involuntary reaction, you understood. More or less, anyway.

You dabbed at a cut on his arms, cleaning it with antiseptic that stung just enough to make him draw out a deep breath through his nose. "There" you said softly, straightening back up behind him and brushing his hair out of his face "All better. I'm sorry my husband put you in such circumstances" you apologized. Husband? Did you mean Victor? That filthy rat was your husband?

Just as that thought crossed his mind, the door creaked open and Victor strode in, his presence filling the space menicingly. Under his visor, his eyes flicked between you and Leon, his golden teeth flashing. "Ah..." he mused, his large hand coming up to remove his goggles, the metal mask hitting the top of a wooden drawer with a clunk. "My lovely wife is attending to our guest. How thoughtful"

Leon straightened as best he could in his confines, his jaw setting in a hard line. He glared at Victor, silent, his monotone expression a mask of defiance.

But Victor didn't let his smile waver, instead, he extended his hand out for you to saunter over and stand next to him. Your husband took a few steps forward, his towering shadow falling over the DSO agent. "Why are you here?" he then asked Leon, his head cocking to the side "Is it for me?" his smile was sickening, but it vanished just as quickly as it came "Or for her?"

Leon knew who her was, Grace Ashcroft, the skittish FBI worker. Yet his expression remained cold and controlled.

You watched your husband bending forward after a beat of silence that stretched between them "We can talk" Victor proposed, like the two of them were good friends who had some catching up to do. When Leon still didn't move to answer, Gideon almost growled. "Right." he held his hand out, a soft 'darling' sounding from his lips as he turned his head to look at you, his squared shoulders dropping slightly. You quickly went to take a scalpel out of a drawer and placed it into his awaiting palm.

Once he held the scalpel, he turned it in his fingers, smacking his lips together. "Or we can begin your treatment" his words turned into a low, dangerous rumble at the end, but Leon didn't seem too fazed, to the point he even cracked a joke "The silent treatment, I hope"

Your husband chuckled, though he was far from amused. He pointed the sharp end of the scalpel over to Leon "You're an investigator, right? Well, investigate" he ordered, stepping closer to Leon, his heavy footsteps creaking on the wooden floorboards. "What do you wanna know?" he leaned his massive body to the side, as if to study Leons reaction. "Is this where I conduct my research?" he asked, brushing through Leons dirty blonde hair, though the DSO agent didn't even flinch.

Yes, Leon was fed up with Gideons bullshit and his attempt to lure him into a conversation, but at least he had you to focus on while Victor chewed off his ear, clearly loving the sound of his own voice-  which did sound very soothing, Leon had to admit.

Not as soothing as yours though. Leon would have much prefered you circling him like this, whispering a sinful 'yes' instead, while he ate out your pussy-

Gideons hand caressing his neck had him snap out of that thought, but his eyes almost frantically searched for yours, trailing over your frame, and that gave him away for good. Victor noticed it now, the lustful glances Leon threw at you, the eagerness buzzing off him as his gaze lingered on the way your dress clung to your soft belly and thick thighs.

Victors hand clamped down onto Leons shoulder, making the smaller man wince "Ah, I see. My wife has caught your eyes" he taunted, lifting his head to look at you fondly, his yellow eyes piercing you. "She's exquisite, isn't she?" he muttered into Leons ear, though his attention was on you.

Victor left Leons side to approach you "So soft, so willing." He mused, his arm snaking around your plush waist to pull you into him, leaning down to claim your lips in a deep, possessive kiss that made your knees weaken. You melted into it, your hands resting on his chest. When your husband pulled back you stumbled a little, your round face flushed, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear in embarrassement. Victors gaze returned to Leon.

"You have been shamelessly staring. Do you want to fuck her?"

Leons head snapped up at that, his calm facade cracking. Now he really was rendered speechless, not a sound coming out as he opened his mouth.

In a flash, Victor was in front of him, one hand harshly pulling Leons head back by his hair, the other hand holding the sharp edge of the scalpel under Leons adams apple. "You do not have the privilege to remain silent, Mr. Kennedy. Do you want to fuck my wife, yes or no." Gideon growled, the blade cutting into Leons skin as he swallowed.

Leon didn't know why his resolve cracked so easily, but the word 'yes' escaped him before he could stop it. Appearently, that was also the right choice, as Victor let go of him afterwards, an arrogant smirk playing across his cracked lips. "There. Wasn't so bad, huh?" Victor taunted, stepping behind him.

Leon panted softly, the cut on his throat stinging faintly. "Doesn't matter, m'not here for that"

Victor chuckled, low and dark. "Oh, but you are here for that now." He cut the ropes that bound Leon to the chair with the scalpel quickly, the restrains falling away. Leon rubbed his sore wrists and remained seated. This was his chance- he could get out of here, kill Victor in the process, but something held him in the chair.

"What are you waiting for, Mr. Kennedy? I want you to unpack your present" Victor said, pushing you forward by your arm, his touch gentle yet demanding.

Leon swallowed hard, his cock straining against his pants as he looked between you and Victor. Hesitantly, he stood up and Victor nodded approvingly. Leons hands hovered near your waist, a question on his brow "...may I?" he asked and you encouraged him with a breathless yes.

Leon pressed you into the soft, yet sculpted planes of his chest, his strong arms circling your body until his hands found the zipper at the back of your dress, slowly pulling it down.

His eyes never left yours, his head tilted down to watch your reaction, his hair tickling your forehead. The tension built steadily, your breaths mingling while he shrugged the thin straps off your shoulders, his touch leaving goosebumps in their wake. Though nothing would ever compare to your husband. Gideon knew that better than anyone else, so he wasn't at all pressed when Leon revealed that you weren't wearing a bra underneath.

Your tits spilled out of the cups of the dress and Leon cursed, averting his eyes to take a deep, pained breath. God you were gorgeous, he couldn't believe he was allowed to look. You giggled softly at his reaction, enjoying the way he almost whimpered as he sank to his knees and uncovered the rest of you, your bare pussy coming into view.

You were already dripping with arousal, and it took everything in Leon to not just dive forward and bury his face between your legs.

Instead he stared up at you, like he had just found salvation, his jaw slack and his pupils blown wide. Victor chuckled behind you, being all too familiar with Leons reaction. He himself looked at you like this, despite seeing your body every day.

"Darling, get on the bed" Gideon purred to you and you instantly went to crawl between the silk sheets.

Victors head jerked towards Leon "Strip" was all he said, and with a tense nod, Leon shed his clothes, revealing his toned body. He was a bit more hesitant with his trousers, but he let his cock spring free at last. He was hard and veined, already leaking precum impatiently.

While Victor undressed himself, he dragged the naked DSO agent over to the bed, practically throwing him onto it with ease. When Victor joined, his enormous frame dwarfed both Leon and you. The men sat across from each other on their knees, their cocks throbbing just inches from the other.

Dr. Gideons cock was an actual monster, longer and girthier than Leons, precum dripping down onto Leons tip where Victors head towered over his dick.

Leon groaned at that, his cock giving a pathetic throb. Eagerly, your hands reached out and you grasped their dicks tightly, pushing them together so their veined undersides touched as you wrapped your palms around both.

You spat onto them and started stroking their pulsing shafts, whining softly as your spit and their precum mixed to a filthy wet slide.

Schlick, Schlick, Schlick

The slick sounds made you all groan, and you began to pump them faster. "Fuck, that's so good" Leon groaned, his hips bucking slightly, his sensitive tip catching on the underside of Victors cockhead, making the larger man growl in the back of his throat.

Victor chuckled approvingly, his hand tangling in your hair "Her hands are so deliciously soft, aren't they?" he mused and Leon hummed in agreement, his jaw going slack as he watched your hand flick over him with just the right amount of pressure that made his abdomen tighten.

Gideon leaned down, capturing your mouth again in a bruising kiss, his snake like tongue invading deep while you jerked them off, your movements faltering for a moment. Leon watched, jealousy pooling in his expression. God, he would do anything to kiss you, to trail his lips along your body.

While you desperately hung on Victors lips, whining around the thick muscle that was his tongue invading your mouth, his eyes opened, staring intensively at Leon.

Victor pulled back from you with a wet smack, leaving you breathless. He smirked at Leon "Her lips are mine" he said and Leon frowned, though his brows continued to twitch upwards in pleasure. "But...!" Victor started, making Leons ears perk up "You are free to worship her perfect body, isn't that right, darling?" he leaned down to you, and you stammered out a dumb little "uh-huh", already too horny for both men to fill you to care about anything else.

Your husband reached up to slap your jiggling breasts while you worked their cocks eagerly, a cute mewl slipping past your lips. "Suck on those tits" Victor demanded, though even he started to become breathless.

He didn't have to tell Leon twice and he instantly bent down, his mouth latching onto the soft skin of your tits. He sucked a stiff nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the pebbled flesh, his teeth grazing the sensitive nub just enough to make you gasp all pretty for him.

His hands roamed your soft sides, squeezing your plush waist as he kept suckling on your chest, switching to the other nipple while you continued stroking their cocks together. Victors was leaking steadily now, the tip nudging Leons as your fists slid up and down, squeezing more tightly when you corkscrewed it upwards to their tips.

"Look at you, so eager for my wife's touch, making her feel good without a second thought" Victor murmured to Leon, his free hand sliding down to cup the other mans ass- Leon yelped as Gideons rough fingers dug into the flesh "Bet you've been dreaming of a pussy like hers" your husband said, his objectifying tone making you whimper, your cunt aching as their cocks throbbed in your hands.

"Please" you hiccuped, bending down to lick their drooling heads in desperation. Leon cursed at the sight "Please I- I want your....cum" you pleaded, jerking them off as fast as you could, opening your mouth in hopes at least one of them would let you taste their salty goodness soon.

Your husband chuckled at your neediness and pulled you up against him, your hands leavinf their hot, pulsing cocks, making you whine pathetically. Victor shushed you "Don't pout, darling. You'll get our cum, just be a patient little thing- can you do that for me?" you mewled, nodding your head and spreading your legs over his cock, the fat tip slipping between your folds.

One thick finger slipped into your pussy and you keened, arching your back towards Leon, your ass cheeks parting to show off your winking hole. "Prepare her" Victor said, firmly grasping Leons wrist to bring his hand to your puckered hole.

Both men took their time to stretch you, Victor letting Leon dip his fingers into yiur velvety pussy to lube up your ass, the blonde man spitting onto your rear as he scissored two fingers inside you. You were already drooling and trembling before they even nudged your entrances with their cocks, screaming helplessly into Victors neck as they pushed in inch by inch.

"Shit, so tight" Leon grunted, trying to keep as much control as he could so he wouldn't just thrust in all the way, as much as he would have liked.

Victor grinned at Leons words "Isn't she just? Her pussy's even tighter" he groaned, pushing past the ring of muscle, to which you melted into his arms with a pitiul cry. "If you please her good, I might just let you slip into her warm, dripping cunt next" he proposed, cooing to you as his filthy words made Leon bottom out with a wet slap, soothing your whimpers.

Victor thrusted forward at the same moment, filling your pussy completely. The double penetration was overwhelming  Victors girth splitting you open from the front, Leons cock dragging against Victors through the thin barrier. They quickly found a rhythm so you were never empty, Victors hips snapping up while Leon fucked your ass with eager thrusts, his full balls slapping against you.

"Oh god, yes" you babbled almost incoherently, your limb body rocking between them, jiggling under their pounding, your tits bouncing against Victors chest while they railed you within an inch of your life. You drooled onto Victors soft pecs, your throat strained in a constant string of moans and whines, your legs shaking uncontrollably where your husband held you up.

You bit into Victors neck with a satisfied groan as his curved dick brushed past your g-spot and slammed into your cervix, your eyes rolling and your ass tightening further, making Leon drop is head, his rough hands grasping your hips to pull you onto his length. He moaned through gritted teeth, his mouth latching on your neck, sucking marks into your soft skin. He couldn't kiss your lips, so he devoured your body, licking sweat from the back of your neck, biting your shoulder as he drove deeper into your ass. Your pussy clenched around Victor, yout juices dripping down mess up the bedding beneath you.

The room filled with wet sounds, obcene and sloppy squelches from your stuffed holes, their grunts mixing with your pleasured cries. Victors cock hit your sweet spot every time he bottomed out, stretching your walls until you saw stars. "You're so full, aren't you, sweet thing? Do you like being stuffed to the brim like a good little slut?" Gideon whispered into your ear, making you nod hastily against his neck. "Yes, yes I- oh my god!" you slurred with a yelp, falling even heavier into Victors arms as Leons hand snaked around you to rub your clit, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

Your husband smirked at Leons actions approvingly, leaning down to your quivering form and whispering into your war "Good girl, now tell Leon how good his dick feels in your ass"

You hiccuped, your hips trying to push into Leons hand "It- ah! fuck! f-feels amazing" you babbled, nails digging into Victors strong arms to ground yourself against the onslaught of pleasure that had your orgasm approaching fast. "M-more Leon, please"

Leon obliged instantly and pounded you faster. Sweat slicked your bodies, Leons chest pressing against your back, Victors frame being like a wall that held you in place as your orgasm threatened to tear you apart. "I- i'm....cumming..." you sniffled, your voice hoarse, your head scrambled and all the way up in the clouds as the friction built in your core.

Victors brow crinkled as he chased his own orgasm, Leons nose pulled into a snarl as the slick slide of your tight as threatened to throw him over.

Leon wrapped one arm around your middle to squish you back against him, the other remaining on your clit where he drew frantic circles. "Just hold on, darling. Just a little more" Victor grunted, his hips snapping up to bury himself in your pussy. Your suddenly orgasm made you shriek, wailing into the room as your body locked up, spasming from the pleasure that flooded every nerve inside you. Your fluttering holes brought both men to the edge. You heard a strangled "I'm gonna- oh fuck!" behind you, before a warm pressure filled your abdomen.

The men shouted as their climaxes rocked their bodies, both of their instincts telling them to cum as deeply inside you as they could. It was so much, too much, you felt like you were going to come apart at the seams.

When their cocks had stopped throbbing inside you, they slipped free one after the other with a wet pop, thick cum leaking out of you.

You were as limb as a doll, your legs shaking uncontrollably while Victor crawled to sit at the headboard, turning you easily in his arms so your back laid against his chest, your quivering legs spread wide over his thighs and exposing your leaking pussy to Leon. Victors finger slid lower, parting your slick pussy lips and making you squirm under his touch.

Leons eyes zeroed in on your cunt, pupils dilated, tracking the slow pulse of your gaping hole, his cock already filling out again.

"I am a man of my word, Mr. Kennedy" Victor rasped, one large hand keeping your thigh securely slung over his so you couldn't close your legs. "Fuck her pussy" there was no room for argument, not that Leon would ever argue about this anyway.

Leon quickly stepped between your legs, sliding his cock into your sloppy pussy easily, the velvety heat enveloping him. He groaned like he heard the angels sing, one hand on your hip, the other on Victors knee as he thrusted up, filling the gaping space Victor had left. You mewled from the oversensitivity, your walls fluttering around him, so slippery from Gideons cum.

Just before Leon could lose himself in the feeling of you, Victor grasped his neck tightly, thumb digging into the bruises he had left previously, making Leon choke on his breath "Cumming inside her pussy is my privilege, understood?" he growled deeply. The blonde man nodded his head and before releasin him, Victor licked a stripe up his cheek, his forked tongue perhaps hinting at what was to come.

Leon could be thankful he was even wrapped up in your pussy right now, he was happy for any scrap he could get. He pulled back to thrust back in, youf pussy squelching around the intrusion, making your back arch away from your husbands chest.

Victor chuckled behind you, his large hand cupping your heavy breasts, kneading the soft flesh. His thumb rolled over your nipples, pinching them until you whimpered. "How does his cock feel, darling? Smaller than mine, surely, but he is eager" Victor mused into your ear and Leon almost scoffed, but his mind was too far buried in your pussy to care what Victor had to say.

"Does he hit that spot?" Victors tone was sweet, condescending, like he was indulging a child, the sound of his deep vice kissing your ears "Tell me, do you want him to go faster? Should I make him beg for it?" his words made you moan, your hands grasping his forearm tightly. You were already lost, pleasure frying your brain, your body trembling in his lap. "F-faster, please" you whined, grinding down onto Leons thrusts. "S'good, so good, wanna cum" you babbled, your legs trying to close as Leon picked up the pace.

"Good girl" Victor purred, massaging your tits harder, his mouth on your neck suckinc bruises that matched Leons, who fucked you relentlessly now, his hips snapping hard and his heavy balls slapping your ass. The sloppy sounds grew louder, your pussy gushing around his shaft.

"Fuck, I'm close" Leon panted, his rhythm faltering as sweat dripped from his brow. "Pull out" Victor ordered sharply. Leon hesitated but obeyed, his cock slipping free, slick and throbbing from being denied. You squirmed in Victors lap, feeling empty and aching, your clit pulsing with the need to cum.

Victor shifted you aside gently until your body molded into the pillows, then grabbed Leons by the thighs as his mouth descended. His tongue, the muscle elongated and split in the front from the parasite, wrapped around Leons shaft, coiling like a snake. It was unlike anything Leon had ever felt, the flexible muscle stroking every inch, flicking the underside while Victor sucked him deep into his mouth without even thinking about gagging.

"Holy shit" Leon gasped, his hands fisting the sheets. Victors lips wrapped around him, his throat relaxing to take him fully unti his nose made contact with the sensitive skin of Leons abdomen. He bobbed his head, paying attention to the whole length. Leon was sure he had died- the sensations were so intense, so different to anything he knew. And he was so goddamn close.

You watched mesmerized, your fingers circling your clit even though you had no permission to, but how could you stop yourself when Victor practically sucked the life out of Leon. The side of your husband was intoxicating- he had admitted that he had been experimental in the good old days, but seeing it in action just made you wetter. Leons hips jerked, and with a strangled cry, he came, thick ropes of cum shooting down Victors throat. Victor swallowed every drop, his tongue milking Leon dry until he slumped, utterly spent.

Gideon pulled off with a wet pop, his mouth connected to Leons tip with a thick string of cum.

While Leon needed a moment to come back to earth after this phenominal head he just recieved, Victor was already pulling the man up by the arm again and throwing him between your legs. "Finish what you started, agent" Victor commanded, wiping his mouth.

Leon nodded weakly, crawling between your thighs. His tongue lapped at your pussy, broad strokes brought upon your puffy folds, delving into the slick heat. You cried out, your head falling back against the pillow. Every stroke of his tongue pushed you incredibly close to the edge. He sucked your clit gently, then harder until your legs quivered around his head, the tip of his tongue spreading you open as he ate you out. Victor watched, stroking your hair. "Make her cum. She deserves it. She deserves it all" he mused fondly, kissing away the salty tears that lined your rosy cheeks.

It didn't take long for you to burst. Your body was already sensitive from denial and Leons mouth was relentless. When Victors cum oozed onto his tongue from the depth of your fucked out pussy, Leon hummed against your clit at the taste, and you shattered, crying out as your orgasm ripped through you, thighs clamping around his head to the point you'd crack his skull in two, juices flooding his face.

You collapsed then, a trembling mess and crying from the intensity, babbling incoherently, your body shaking from the aftershocks. Victor gathered you instantly, his massive arms cradling your soft form against his chest. "Shh, my love. You've been so good." He kissed your forehead, rocking you gently, wiping the tears from your cheeks that refused to stop with his thumb.

Leon joined and kissed your shoulder, murmuring apologies mixed with awe. "You okay? That was...not how I thought this would go" he chuckled softly, bringing you down from your blissful state by carefully massaging your calves to ease the cramps.

Both men were able to lay off ther rivalry just enough to tend to you together- Victor fetching you a glass of water, Leon cleaning in between your legs and draping a warm blanket over your shivering naked body, all while your husband held the glass to your lips and making sure you emptied it.

Afterwards you snuggled into the pillows, exhaustion pulling you under quickly. As your eyes drifted shut, you heard Victors voice, low and controlled:

"Leave, Kennedy. Before I change my mind."*

★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Yet again I present you a fic finished and uploded around midnight even though I should go the fuck to sleep <3

I wasn't into Leon at first- not rookie, blonde baby face Leon but GAWD DAMN R9 LEON THE MAN YOU ARE😩😩😩

You felt your ikrans muscles trembling and tensing beneath your cheek, her breaths coming in labored huffs. She was tiring, you could feel it in your own bones from the bond. You were losing height rather quickly and sat up, cooing softly at her.

You guided her lower after you spotted a break in the canopy near the edge of a forest, where a glowing river snaked through the undergrowth.

"Easy" you murmured, stroking her neck as she descended in a graceful spiral, her claws hooking onto the bark of a tree, sliding down until you touched the mossy ground. You slipped off her back and unclipped your kuru from hers, patting her neck while she shook off the rain, her wings folding to her sides with a soft rustle.

You sighed deeply, just now feeling your own exhaustion settle over your shoulders. What were you even thinking? This had been such a stupid idea, you didn't even know if you had landed in Na'vi territory! There could already be someone watching you, drawing their arrow as they recognized you as an outsider.

Standing utterly still, you strained your ears to hear something. But there was no noise except for the wind brushing through the trees and the steady rush of the river winding past you.

Amay shrieked with hunger, stomping around restlessly. You yipped quietly so she'd follow you over to the rivers edge. Instantly, she went to plunge her head into it to drink. You smiled, stepping into the shallow water, careful not to slip on a rock. As you caught sight of a shadow swimming towards you, you plunged your hands into the cold current, snagging a wriggling fish out of the water "Amay, stä'ni!" you called out to your ikran. When she lifted her head, you tossed the fish over to her, watching her snag it up with grateful clicks.

You continued like this, laughing at Amay when you'd throw a fish onto the mossy bank and she would jump away in confusion and fear while it flapped helplessly on the ground.

As you leaned back over the water to catch another fish, the moons reflection danced on the surface, and so did yours. The rain had stripped away the ashy paint you had worn like a second skin every day. For the first time in forever, you saw your actual colour. The one that would always bind you to the forest, no matter how much you tried to cover it up.

Your skin was deep blue, shimmering wet, the dark blue stripes curling like vines across your arms and thighs. You had almost forgotten what your own pattern looked like, and the bioluminescent freckles along your cheeks and shoulders felt out of place.

You stared into your reflection with a frown. Who was this Na'vi gazing back? It might as well have been a stranger, or the version of you that would exist if that tragic moment hadn't happened all these years ago.

Your finger dipped into the water, your face blurring and fading out into ripples stretching along with the waters stream.

Then suddenly, a sound, something cracking in the distance, sharp and distinct, echoed behind you. Your ears flicked, your body tensing. You whispered a series of clicks to Amay, who croaked quietly, her head hung low as she watched you.

Maybe you had been right- someone was watching you, just waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

You climbed out of the water silently, crouching low as you snatched the gatherer knife from your belt. You stalked around the small clearing you had landed in, your ears twitching to every sound. They were getting closer, you could tell, you just weren't sure from where.

When a figure emerged from the underbushes behind you, Amay shrieked and flapped her wings in distress.

You whirled around with a fierce yell, tackling them to the muddy floor. Your thighs pinned their torso flush to the ground, your knife pressed to the pulse point at their throat. You were ready to cut, but then the man beneath you grunted in pain.

Quaritch was swept off his feet so fast he couldn't even register that there was a Na'vi behind the bushes he walked through.

He had hit his head rather harshly as you brought him to the floor, and it took a while until the haziness in his vision faded away. The blurry figure looming above him made something flash in his mind, but it left his thoughts as quickly as it had come.

He squinted up at you, his adams apple bobbing against the edge of your knife. Your skin matched the colour of his own, your stripes flowing in a pattern that complimented his, the glowing freckles on your face making it look like you held the stars on your cheeks.

Recognition flashed across his features then "Sugar...that you?"

Quaritchs voice rasped, rough from the fall that had knocked all the air out of his lungs. Your eyes locked on his face with a gasp, your knife trembling in your grip.

Him? Here?

You scrambled off like you had been burned, the blade slipping from your fingers in shame. Heat flooded your cheeks- you had almost slit his throat. Just like that.

You had almost hurt him again. "Quaritch I- I am so sorry...I thought you were a threat" you mumbled out the words in embarrassement and anger at yourself. Why did you keep lashing out at him, the one person who didn't treat you like a mistake?

He pushed himself up to sit, rubbing his neck where the blade had kissed his skin, but a smirk tugged at his lips anyway. "Hell of a welcome. Didn't think you had it in you to attack someone"

You huffed "I am not a baby. I can handle a fight, but I do not seek them out" you explained, suddenly flinching as an Ikran towered behind Quaritch and backing away. "Easy there, Cupcake's a sweetheart. She won't hurt you, ain't that right?" he asked his ikran. She chittered happily, nudging him up onto his feet.

You rose as well, returning to your own ikran, turning your back to Quaritch as you played with her woven harness "Why are you here? How did you find me?" you asked him then, watching him over your shoulder.

For a moment, his gaze roamed over you, lingering on the newly revealed stripes and freckles, the night sky seemingly painted to your back. He couldn't help but stare at you, his hand itching to trace along your smooth shoulder, brushing away the beaded braids falling over your back. It felt like you belonged here, like this, and in a sense it was true. You had belonged here, but that was long ago, you didn't even know if the forest would accept you back.

You felt exposed without the paint covering you, and his eyes staring holes into your back didn't help at all. Gingerly you turned to face him, leaning against your Ikrans side and crossing your arms over your chest, glaring at him to urge him to answer.

You looked so cute when you tried to be intimidating. Well, just moments ago you had been, with his life balancing on the edge of your knife. As he replayed the moment in his head, he just then realised how much he liked it, seeing you snarl in primal anger, ready to strike.

Quaritch cleared his throat to get the thought out of his head and stepped closer, one hand on his hip. Just then did you notice his bandaged arm, a reminder of your earlier outburst, the claw marks you had left on him in panic. You frowned softly.

"You weren't there. I figured you were holed up in your yurt, needin' some space after...that mess" he started, eyeing your reaction. "Wanted to bring some food, but no one was home. The whole clan was worried-" yes, the last bit wasn't exactly true, nobody in the village seemed too fussed about your absence. It was a bad attempt at making you feel better. "No one in that clan worries about me!" you bit back, interrupting him.

"Yeah, well, I do" he said, calm as ever, as if you weren't baring your teeth at him in agitation, your tail lashing behind you like a whip. Your ears stood up as his admission hung there, blunt and unexpected. No one cared. But he did, if you could believe him.

You didn't trust your words, your gaze dropping to the bandage wrapped rightly around his forearm, the guilt twisting sharper in your gut. You had hurt him, drawn blood through the promise you never would, except it was absolut necessary.

You stepped closer, reaching out to hold onto his arm. He watched you hesitantly brush over the wrappings. "Wouldn’t have followed you all the way out here if I didn't" he said softly, following you with his eyes, his voice gentle as if speaking any louder would scare you away.

"I...I did not mean to." you whispered, staring at his arm "This- I...I am sorry" your touch was light, almost reverent, as if you could will the fabric to mend and erase the pain you had caused with your palms. His skin was warm under the edges, muscles tensing then relaxing at your contact.

Quaritch just shrugged "Had worse." he muttered, enjoying your touch on him. "Your first time alone in the forest...?" you asked timidly, your ears dropping as you searched his eyes. He didn't look into your eyes, but his glazed over "Yeah...that" he mumbled. "What happened?" you urged, your hand closing around his wrist.

"That's a story for another time, Sugar. I ain't here to dwell on old wounds" he clearly didn't want to talk about it more than he already had. Either it was too painful, or he simply didn't want you to know.

You nodded absentmindedly, gently withdrawing your hand, the intimacy of the moment lingering even after your warm touch had left him.

To break the silence, you turned to scoop a dead fish off the ground Amay hadn't eaten and flung it towards Quaritch. He ducked, thinking you were throwing it at him, but in went easily over his head for his ikran to catch it mid-air. She gulped it down with a pleased rumble, her eyes brightening in interest.

Your own ikran perked up at the newcomer, the nostrils on her chest flaring as she approached. They both craned their necks over your shoulders cautiously, leaning in closer, sniffing the intriguing scent of the other. A low trill escaped Amay, and Cupcake responded with the same tone.

Cupcake nudged Amay with her chin hesitantly, their faces rubbing together in a gentle nuzzle that spoke of curiosity, perhaps more. You watched in awe as they inspected each other carefully.

What started as unsure quickly turned excited. With a playful shove, they pressed closer- your ikran bumping into your back, Quaritchs jostling him forward, nearly pushing you both chest to chest in the process.

You stumbled into him with a yelp, your hands instinctively splaying on his broad chest for balance. He quickly steadied you by holding you at the waist, his grip firm so you wouldn't fall and pull him down with you. Now you were squished between two ikrans who cooed at each other, their jaws clapping and their wings flapping around you in friendly bickering.

Up close like this, his scent filled your space. He smelled so good to you, like crisp rain and musk. You fought yourself not to nuzzle into his neck like your own ikran did with his. Instead you stared up into his eyes, not moving an inch, even when you probably should remove your hands from his pecs. Ever since that moment in your yurt, you had longed to be this close to him again. You never thought you'd get the chance, but now it was just you two, no possibility for Varang or anyone to interrupt you.

The moon illuminated your face beautifully, casting an ethereal glow on your face, the beads in your hair catching the light and shining almost as bright as your eyes when you gazed up at him lovingly. Quaritch couldn't bear to look away, or to step aside. The thought of removing his hands from your hips felt like torture.

The gleam of the water highlighted the intensity of his stare, the curve of his nose and lips. His freckles appeared as radiant as yours, almost matching in their pattern. How could you look away? Your skin burned warm where his touch lingered, and you felt his hands moving- softly exploring your curves, but not straying far.

For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to only this- the song of the river, the ikrans' soft coos and chitters, the sounds of the forest and this pull between you, like something was bonding itself to your hearts right this moment.

You smiled faintly, glancing at the chirping banshees. "They...seem to like each other" you muttered, your face flushing softly under the stars. Your ikrans were bonding, you could tell. Usually, ikrans fought their mates before bonding- much like they did with their riders before tsaheylu was made. But Amay and Cupcake were anything but agressive towards each other.

"Yeah" he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, though he didn't look up to watch the ikrans, didn't even seem to fully register what you had said. Instead, his thumb brushed your side, pulling you flush to his chest without you noticing, you already stood so close to each other.

He was warm, so warm it also made you want to cuddle around him to ease the chill. "They are...bonding" you explained, watching them nuzzle each other gently above you. "An ikran binds themselves to a single mate for all their life like they do with their riders" your voice was just barely above a whisper, your hand snaking around his kuru "I think that is...beautiful" you admitted softly. He watched you brush your fingers over his braid "Devoting your heart to someone forever, giving them your whole soul"

Quaritch huffed through his nose, his breath fanning over your face. "I think my soul's too sick for that, Sugar"

His words made you smile softly "You have a soul?" you managed to sound serious for half a second before you giggled, watching his eyes crinkle as he chuckled with you, the sound vibrating beneath your palms.

"Don't know, you tell me. Do you see one, flower girl?" he asked you then, a smirk playing around his lips so casually.

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart beating out of your chest at his question. If he pulled you even closer, he might even feel it.

Your ears pinned to your head, your brows knitting together softly as your fingers touched the cold metal tags hanging around his neck. The material had a carved face in it, one that looked familiar, but was too far buried by time for you to recognize it in your memory. Miles Quaritch was written under it. You held the necklace in your palm before you looked up to him, finding him already watching you.

He looked like he was holding his breath, preparing for a reaction, for something- anything.

You opened your mouth to speak, your eyes wide and sincere "Miles..." you whispered. You saying his name like that made him visibly shudder, his ears lowering. "I...I see y-" the moment shattered as the ikrans shrieked in a deafening cry above you, their wings flaring in unison as they animated each other into play.

They nearly shoved you over with their flapping wings as they darted off to the water, Amay trying to nip at Cupcakes tail, who was splashing into the shallows of the river.

Laughter bubbled from you, light and unexpected, trying to forget that you were so close to tell him something that shouldn't be said out of the blue. These words carried so much more meaning than the simple task of seeing someone physically stand in front of you. You didn't even know if he knew how important they were, stubborn and ignorant as he was.

Quaritch cleared his throat, stepping back from you, watching your ikrans play. You already missed his warm and sturdy presence molding to your body.

"We should get going. Varang's going to wonder where her little garden fairy went, and Ardmore's gonna ground my ass for not reportin' back" he said, glancing at the sky, stars peeking through thinning clouds.

You hesitated, your gaze on the river as if it could save you from all of this. Home meant the weapons, the lies, the violence you just couldn't stomach for the life of you. "I am...not sure I want to. Not yet." you admitted, hugging yourself.

He nodded, pursing his lips upward in thought. Then his brow arched, a spark of mischief crossing his features "Who says we gotta rush?" he taunted you, calling Cupcake over with a sharp, military grade whistle. He patted her neck, and you didn't think much of it at first.

"C'mon- first one over the canopy wins" He swung onto his ikrans saddle with a grunt, tsaheylu snapping in place and he got up into the air without giving you the time to get to your own ikran.

Grinning despite yourself, you yipped to Amay and mounted her, the bond reigniting that rush of freedom and excitement. "Hey! That is not fair!" you yelled as you launched into the sky, wings flapping against the cool air and climbing up towards the stars.

With his dirty headstart, he broke through the canopy first "I ain't ever playing fair, sweetheart" he called over the howl of the wind with a grin, one you were determinded to wipe off his face.

You caught up to him, flying beside him until you let out a loud cry, your ikran darting forward like lightning. Quaritch eyebrows shot up in surpise "Where're you goin' Sugar?" he called and he watched you turn your head over your shoulder "The last one to reach the end of the mountains is a skxawng!" you yelled back at him before you sharply veered your ikran to outpace his through a narrow pass of floating mountains.

Quaritch was stunned just half a second before he pushed hard, a competitive growl rumbling from his chest, trying to follow you as best as he could.

But you knew your way around the flying rocks and islands better, hunting through a secret passage that shortened your way, just barely squeezing between two floating rocks that collided into each other soon after you passed through, blocking Quaritchs way.

Even if you had given him a two minute headstart, you would have reached the other side first.

He then decided to just fly over the mountains instead. When he was finally behind them, he looked out for you, but you were nowhere to be seen. He smirked, guess he had been faster than you in the end.

He looked back to wait for you, when suddenly, there was an echoing yell. He leaned over his ikran and saw you flying under him, as well as way ahead of him. And if that wasn't bad enough, you were lounging on the back of your ikran, ankles crossed, arms behind your head. And you had the nerve to fake yawn "I was worried you got lost!" you smiled, giggling as his expression turned to shock. But instead of getting mad, he returned the soft smile.

He ducked low and you flew up, both of you meeting half way. He tipped an imaginary hat forward "My respect goes out to you. How ever shall I compete with such a skilled rider like yourself?" he mocked with a too formal tone, bowing his head dramatically.

You blew him a rasberry with a childish giggle, the sound making something in Quaritchs chest bloom "Do not flatter me, I might think you are being nice" you teased him, your hair flying behind you in the wind. "Being nice is my middle name, sugar" he protested sarcastically, making you roll your eyes with a smile.

You two continued flying next to each other in the quiet night, no hurry in your flight as you headed to the Mangkwan village.

Pandoras trees and forests unfolded beneath you in a glowing path that seemed to guide you along. Above you, the endlessnes of the cosmos stretched far, stars scattering like diamonds around the large planet polyphemus that this moon was orbiting.

It was peaceful and you felt so light, so free, as if nothing else mattered besides this moment. Quaritch and you didn’t talk, but the silence was comfortable. Nothing more had to be said, all was clear, like it was supposed to be.

You reached the cliffs that dipped into the ocean, the vast body of water shimmering from the moons rays.

You dipped low, leaving Quaritchs side, gliding closely over the waves. He watched you from above, cocking his head to see what you were doing. Without him even ordering her, Cupcake went to follow Amay, as if she couldn't bear to be separated.

You extended your arm to skim the surface. Your fingers trailed a pattern of specific ripples into the water, and suddenly fish began to leap out in startled jumps, their sleek silver bodies flashing for your ikran to snatch mid flight. She chittered gleefully, jaw snapping. Quaritch watched from beside you, impressed. "Show-off" he shouted, but his tone held admiration.

You flashed him a smile and twisted Amay to circle around Quaritchs ikran. When you reached her head you let your fingers dive into the water again, the fish jumping directly into Cupcakes mouth.

Both of you flew upward in a wide spiral. The rush of endorphins had you laughing into the crisp night, closing your eyes as you trusted your ikran to fly in a circle before leveling out again. When you opened your eyes, you expected Quaritch to fly next to you. But he had vanished from your side.

You looked from left to right, but he wasn't there. You peeked underneath, thinking he just hadn't reached the same height as you, but there was no one, just the dark ocean.

"Up here, Sweetheart" someone whistled above you, making your head snap up. What you saw made you laugh. Quaritch, flying above you with his ikran- upside down. Cupcakes stomach faced the sky and his head hovered just over yours. He craned his neck to watch you. As he saw your smile, he grinned back.

"You are going to fall" you warned him, smirking. He scoffed "I ain't gonna fall-" and just then, his dogtags slipped from his neck and fell. They zoomed past you towards the ground where a sharp rock formation transitioned between the beach and the jungle.

Without thinking too much about it, you jumped off your ikran after it. "Sugar!" you heard Quaritch shout, but his voice was drowned out by the wind whistling past your ears.

Amay screeched and dove down to follow you, Quaritch veered Cupcake to do the same, pushing her to her limits.

The ground came closer, but your eyes were focused on the piece of silver just in front of you. You reached for it, stretching as far as you could. The wind pushed you forward enough for you to grasp it, craddling the necklace to your chest and closing your eyes. You had to trust.

Trust.

Something yanked you forcefully by the shoulders right before the rocks could pierce you, hauling you up towards the sky. "Fucking hell, are you insane?" Quaritch snarled in anger above you, his ikran carrying you by the shoulders.

You gasped for air, blood rushing, fueling your body with adrenaline. "I- I have them! I caught them" you cheered. When Amay flew below Cupcake, she released you, making you plop back into your saddle.

"You shouldn’t have done that, you could have died!" he growled as you flew parallel again. "But...is this not important to you?" you asked him, your ears pinning to your head. You thought this was something sacred, like a songcord. The sky people version of a songcord. Surely it would matter if he lost it.

Quaritch huffed, the anger in his chest simmering low as he saw these puppydog eyes you threw at him "Not as important as your life, sugar."

His words silenced you and you ducked your head, remaining quiet as you slipped the dogtags back into his hands. You were still buzzing with adrenaline and shame. Quaritch seemed tense as well, making you drift apart softly. But both of your ikrans seemed to have other plans. They drew closer despite your turmoil, nuzzling once more, their faces brushing in affection. A feeling of love rushed through your chest thanks to the bond and you looked over to Quaritch. He seemed to feel it too, his head hung low, ears pinned back and his eyes closed.

Even when you were traveling in silence afterwards, one that felt charged with tension, the clans fire burned on the horizon too soon.

You descended together near your yurt, and your ikrans instantly went to rub their necks together in happy chitters as you dismounted.

"Where the fuck were you?" Lyle growled, who had been sitting perched against the wall of a yurt for what felt like hours, waiting for his boss to return. He was going to get his ass whooped for this by Ardmore and he should really stop supporting Quaritch in everything just so he wouldn't get punished alone. If Quaritch wanted to be rebellious, so be it, but Lyle wasn't going to get pulled into it.

The bald headed man was clearly agitated and angry, even though you didn't know what he said. You looked at Quaritch in confusion "Mawey" he assured you, turning his gaze back to the corporal.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, corporal" Quaritch said, grasping your arm to walk you over to your hurt, his fingers warm around your biceps as you listened to him speak english. "Ardmore is gonna be pissed, boss" Lyle answered, his ears flat. Quaritch rolled his eyes at that "Let her be. There were complications out of our control, simple as that" he huffed, leaving no room for arguments as he ushered you inside your hut.

Before he entered himself, he looked back at Lyle "Get your ass on your ikran. I'll meet you south" he jerked his head into the direction and vanished behind the beaded curtain, leaving Lyle to growl to himself, before ultimately doing what he was told.

"Go get some rest, Sugar." he then said as you shrugged off your gatherer belt. He could have said that to you outside, instead he chose to come in. Tell you in private. Why?

His eyes landed on the plate he had carelessly thrown onto your little makeshift desk. He nudged it into your direction "I know it's cold now, but you should eat some. Risked my ponytail for that" he joked, flashing his teeth in a soft grin. You ate one of the fruits he brought, accepting his offering, licking the juices off your hand without breaking eyecontact.

For a moment he stared but snapped out of it, stepping back. "Well, I have one mad corporal on my tail so...I better get goin" he excused himself, almost reluctantly, like this wasn't everything he had planned to say.

You nodded, your ears lowering in disappointment. "Thank you for...coming and looking for me" you whispered softly, closing the distance until your lips met his cheek. It was brief, just a short peck that brushed his skin like a gentle gust of wind, but emotions rushed through him like the first time he used his braid to bond tsaheylu.

Your face flushed as you pulled back, averting his intense gaze. For a moment, none of you said anything. Then Quaritch huffed through his nose "Don't pull stunts like that again" was all he said before walking backwards. Only then had you realised he was holding your kuru, and he let the braid glide smoothly through his fingers with every step until he was too far away and it slipped from his reach, and with it,

he vanished out of sight.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

I think this is by far my favourite chapter yet, please let me know how you liked it🎀

Also, if you like my fics and have some money to spare, consider donating some so I can keep doing this passion project in my free time

Anyway, here is the tagslist. I really hope you guys still want to read this

When entering, one was met with wooden walls, shelves lined with satin rolls of fabric, warm light spilling from the ceiling and classical music drifting through the small botique from an old record player that stood near a leather couch formation where your customers usually sat, drinking tea or coffee while waiting their turn.

The business was steady enough to pay the rent for this place, but barely enough to live somewhat comfortable. Customers were still rather rare, leaving you plenty of time to lose yourself in stitches and patterns, and the worry that next month would be the month you'd have to close down.

You couldn't give this up- you had worked so hard to build yourself this business, had saved up so much money to afford all the equipment you needed. And you loved your job, this freedom, even when most days were slow.

The door creaked open wider than usual, and a large shadow loomed in the frame, lighting striking behind him almost comically in the rainy night.

You looked up and your heart skipped. The man who ducked under the lintel was enormous, his head nearly brushing the bell above the doorframe. He was easily over two meters as he rose to his full height, closing the door behind him, muffling the stark rainfall outside.

The man had greyish skin, which was marred by scars, dry cracked skin and red veins that snaked across his body almost like scales. Even though he stood at the other end of the shop, you could see his eyes glowing faintly yellow, the whites of his eyes swallowed by a deep, nearly black blood colour.

His gaze locked onto you with an intensity that made your stomach twist uncomfortably. He looked terrifying, like something out of a nightmare, and you felt so exposed under his glare. You were alone here, you ran this shop all on your own and there was nowhere to flee.

You froze behind the counter as he went to approach you with calm, heavy steps, your hands gripping the fabric scissors a bit too tightly. Unease prickled your skin, hairs standing up on your neck. You could still run and lock yourself in your office in the back, but he didn't seem like a flimsy old wooden door would stop him.

Then suddenly, he spoke, and his voice washed over you- soft, sophisticated, with a refined lilt that contradicted his monstrous appearance. "Good evening" he said, clasping his hands in front of himself, almost as if to put you at ease- he was unarmed. But he could probably crush you with his grip alone.

"I apologize for the intrusion so late at night. But I saw the lights were still on in your little establishment" he continued, stepping up to the register, towering over you to the point you had to crane your neck to look into his eyes. You swallowed nervously.

His eyes were half lidded as he looked down at you "I've been searching for attire that accommodates my... unique proportions, so to say" he almost chuckled, golden teeth flashing back at you. Indeed he did, the clothes he wore now seemed very tight, his brown leather jacket too short for his broad torso, the shirt underneath stretching over his chest and soft stomach, and so did his jeans over his- oh yeah, they were tight.

Stop it, it's rude to stare!

He cleared his throat and you just nodded at what he said, even though your attention was elsewhere "Standard shops do not carry my prefered size, as you see. I noticed your boutique as being the only one in the whole of Wrenwood and wondered if you might take my measurements for a custom piece. Whatever price you ask for, I can pay." he assured you, leaning down to hear your answer better.

You blinked up at him, the fear easing into curiosity. Up close, there was something charming about him- the way his yellow eyes softened, the careful way he held himself to not overwhelm you. And he was strangely handsome, in a dangerous way. You swallowed, forcing a smile. "Of course, sir. I'm happy to help. What's your name?"

He mimicked your smile as you accepted his request and bowed his head down "Dr. Victor Gideon" he replied, giving you a once over with his piercing eyes. You visibly shivered.

"A doctor you say? I never had such an important man in my shop before" you said, grabbing your measuring tape that hung around your neck, rounding the corner of the counter to get to him. The challenge excited you, even when you pretended your excitement was purely professional.

You fetched a sturdy stool near a shelf, climbing onto it to reach his broad shoulders. "I'm going to need you to take off your jacket, sir" you said, waiting for him to shrug it off, laying it over the arm of the sofa. "Please, call me Victor" he mused before standing still, patient as you wrapped the tape around his chest, warmth radiating through the tattered shirt that barely contained him. His scent was earthy, with a hint of something metallic and antiseptic, filling your senses as you measured him.

It was a bit tedious, measuring the width of his collar, getting off the chair to scribble it down on a piece of paper and getting up the stool again- repeating the process for every number you took.

You went back and forth like a busy little mouse, Gideon was very amused by it.

"So, Victor" you started, trying out his name on your tongue. "Do you practice in the nearby hospital? I'm sure a man like you would have cought my eyes" you muttered as you brushed your hand down his arm to straighten the tape against his skin to get accurate results, only then realising how that sounded.

Luckily, he only chuckled and didn't acknowledge your inappropriate comment. Maybe he even liked it. "No, I purchased the chronic care center in Rhodes Hill a while ago. I run the whole centre" he explained proudly, to which you gasped "Not only a doctor, but a clinic director as well? You must be a very successfull man. And you drove all the way from Rhodes Hill to come to my shop?" you almost couldn't believe it. Rhodes Hill wasn't impossibly far away, but also not just around the corner. Surely someone like him could afford a private tailor just for himself.

You couldn't see it as he stepped off the chair, but he was smiling ever so slightly "Oh, it's nothing, really, as I believe you will make my time worth while" he said and you tried to fight off the soft blush that dusted your cheeks afterwards, though you didn't know if his words had that effect on you or if it was the fact you were kneeling just underneath his groin now.

It wasn't like you hadn't measured a man before, and it never bothered you in the slightest. But now? You didn't know what it was, but he made you feel...a certain type of way.

You measured the inseam of his pants, trying not to shake as your hands brushed his strong thighs "You're...quite big" you muttered, head leveled with the bulge in his pants, mentally slapping yourself instantly for your choice of words. Fortunately he hadn't heard you, or at least he acted like he didn't, looking down at you with a questioning hum.

"Tall" you corrected yourself "You're quite tall" you murmured in embarrassement, averting your gaze as you wrapped the tape around the widest part of his leg.

Gideon looked down at you as if he wanted to devour you whole, not that you would known as you continued your work. "A recent development" he said softly. "One I'm still adjusting to."

You didn't question what exactly this recent development was, you didn't want to know, and you probably wouldn't really understand it anyway.

When you were done writing down all the measurements, you were finally able to look for a fitting fabric, though you doubted you'd have anything for a coat in his size. Eventually you excused yourself and went to your storage room in the back next to your office and workspace.

You rummaged through countless of fabric bolts, some were just scraps you could maybe sew some mittens with for his size.

But then you found a big box hidden behind some mannequins and textiles, yet to be opened. Inside you found a roll of white and grey snake skin patterned material. It was sturdy, thick, water resistent and most importantly- long enough to work with. Now he only had to approve it.

With all your strength, you carried the whole roll of fabric out t the front, where Victor had gotten comfortable on one of the couches, reading through old fashion magazines you had lying around on the coffee table.

He looked over the rim of the pages and saw you standing there with the bolt next to you, which almost reached to the top of your head. How cute.

"This might do" you panted, watching him rise from his seat, your stomach still dropping low at his massive size. As he expected the cloth further, he realised the pattern was actually scale like. He touched it, sturdy under his fingertips, letting his fingers trail along the crisp seam "This is...perfect. I'll take it. When will I be able to collect it from you?"

You sighed out in relief as he gladly accepted the fabric and started pondering, your eyes raking over him. "Hmm, I estimate it will take me about two weeks, considering your size. Can you come back then?"

Victor nodded at that, his gaze lingering on you and your curves a moment longer. "I am looking forward to it, ma'am" he bowed softly before he took your hand into his.

At first you thought he'd kiss your hand, but then he pressed a bundle of money into your palm "Just a little deposit upfront, for all your troubles" a little was good- he had just casually handed you 400$!

Your mouth fell open and you took a moment to process this "I- oh my god, I don't take deposits, this really isn't necessary-" but he shushed your rambling quickly "It is left for me to decide how much of my money I spend" he reasoned, his finger coming up under your chin to push your shocked mouth closed.

His touch made your spine tingle. He said his goodbyes, promising to return today in two weeks, leaving you with more money than you usually made in a whole month- earned in just one evening.

★

The days passed and Victor returned exactly on time, the bell chiming as he entered, and you were much more at ease than you had been the first time.

You had draped the coat over a mannequin which you had hauled onto a chair for added height, so the coat wouldn't bunch up on the floor. You were just fluffing out the hood as you heard him enter, your head snapping up. You greeted him cheerfully, stepping aside to proudly present the coat.

He stepped up to it, touching the fabric with a gentle smile. "May I...?" he asked as he moved to slide it off the mannequin. "Yes, please, go ahead" you smiled, buzzing with anticipation to his reaction. You had been as busy as a bee the past week, scraping tons of sketches until you found the one and doing everything in your might to make it perfect.

Victor slipped it on in front of the broad mirror that hung from your wall, it fit like a glove. He turned left to right, admiring the way the fabric clung to his frame. "Exquisite" he murmured, making you stifle a giddy smile.

You swarmed around him then, proding and tugging on him. "I made sure to include these sleek black buttons to close the coat if needed" you explained, completely in your element. "Since you came in drenched by the rain last time, I added this hood. It's light, but big enough to sit comfortably even if you were to wear a hat." he smiled to himself at that, you were very attentive. Then your hand brushed his chest, opening up the left side of his coat to show him you had sewn two spacey pockets to the inside. One had a staff with a snake wound spirally downwards stitched onto it- a medical symbol.

"You've outdone yourself, truly" he praised you, making you beam at him. You were so happy all the hard work paid off and damn, you had never liked looking at someone in your handmade clothes this much before.

You took the heavy coat from him to wrap it up and package it into a neat box for transportation, punching the total sum of the garment into your register. He pulled out his wallet and slid twice the amount of money across the counter, making you protest quickly.

You pushed half of it back over to him but he stopped you by grabbing your wrist "That's too much, Dr. Gideon. Really-" you argued, the pressure around your hand making you look up at him. "*Victor*" he corrected you like the first time he came, his voice firm yet kind. "You deserve it, your work is outstanding. And I intend to be a repeat patron."

From then on, he was. Victor became your most loyal customer, visiting every few weeks for leather pants that molded to his legs like a second skin, a vest that showcased his scarred chest, crisp button-up shirts, and custom gloves to cover his hands. As a signature, you'd always stitch a little snake onto his clothes, as he seemed to be so infatuated with the animal.

The shop felt alive with his presence. Most of the time it was just you, him, and the classical tunes of a piano playing on your record player.

He'd stay while you worked on his orders, conversations flowing easily between you as he spoke of books, art, though not so much about his job. You had learned not to ask, he would tip toe around the question anyway.

But it didn't matter what he ranted on about, he could have simply talked about the weather, and his soft and gentle voice would have drawn you in regardless.

You found yourself anticipating his visits, especially the ones when he came after closing time, helping you put up the covers for the windows so no one could look inside, often bringing food, wine or champagne for you two to indulge in.

One evening you had complained about your hands hurting from all the sewing and sketching you did for him and other customers, and he had massaged your hands carefully for one hour each. Despite the cracks on his hands, his skin was strangely soft- just like his voice, and he was being so gentle with it too. You almost fell asleep on the couch as he did that, his quiet words like a lullaby.

This afternoon, when Victor was helping you store new rolls off fabric into the highest display shelves you couldn't reach, the bell above the door rang again. It wasn't unusual that costumers came in while he was here. He had met an old, half blind and very lovely lady, who commisioned you to sew tiny jumpers for her cats because she couldn't do it herself anymore, as well as a mother with an autistic son that would only wear this one specific type of fabric that you offered.

But today, in walked a slim, polished man that Victor had never seen before in your shop. He was picture perfect with that sharp suit and easy smile as he headed to the register, definitely the type who turned the heads of many ladies- including you it seemed, because you lit up as you saw him, leaving Gideons side to greet him.

The man cheered your name, flashing pearly white and straight teeth as he hugged you "I haven't seen you in ages! How's it going?" he asked you as he pulled back, though he still held onto your arms, which made Victor fume.

You smiled up at him "You know, the usual." you shrugged with a giggle "What brings you here, Marcus?" You asked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

Gideon stiffened behind you, still standing next to the shelf like he was stuck there, his yellow eyes narrowing as he watched you interacting with this idiot. The air thickened noticably. Marcus' gaze flicked to him as he caught the looming figure out of the corner of his eye and visibly jumped as if he had been spooked, not hiding the way his lip curled up in disgust. Victor mirrored the expression.

Marcus quickly looked away, focusing on you instead, a much more pleasant sight "Just need a suit adjustment. Nothing major. I hope you can squeeze me in" he winked and marked his words by squeezing your waist, to which you cleared your throat uncomfortably, stepping back from him.

Out of instinct, Victor stood beside you, almost shielding you with his body and staring Marcus down with a quiet growl that formed in the back of his throat.

Marcus swallowed thickly but put on his poker face, as if sweat wasn't beading on his brow. You felt like the tension was about to snap, and you didn’t want to imagine how ugly that would have been, so you difused the situation by placing your hand on Victors arm, which was wrapped in the snake skin coat you had made. He wore it every day without fail. "Marcus, this is Dr. Victor Gideon, he is the owner of the chronic care center in Rhodes Hill and one of my best clients" you introduced, trying to take the edge off between the two men. "Victor, that is Marcus Hillard. He is a very important event manager here in Wrenwood, I've known him for years"

The stress in Victors shoulders eased, but only because you hadn't introduced him as your boyfriend, partner, significant other, fiancé or husband. You had ever mentioned a special person in your life, and Victor had never asked, too scared he wouldn't like the answer. But maybe you just didn't want to tell him that this greasy bastard was the love of your life.

Marcus nodded curtly, barely acknowledging Victor. "Yeah, hi." he said clipped, dismissively waving his hand. He took your hand to pull you away from Gideons presence, eyes roaming over you and lingering on your curves in a way that felt too...lustful and shallow. "So, you want to take a look at my suit?" he asked with a smirk, and while you didn't notice the weird seductive undertone from Marcus because you didn't view him in that way in the slightest, Victor definitely noticed it.

Victors jaw ticked, his patience finally snapping. He pulled you back to him by the shoulder, his hand resting there as he leaned down, his lips near your ear "Might I have a word in private with you, for a moment?" he asked you, his low voice sending a shiver down your spine.

You hesitated, glancing at Marcus, then back at Victor, gnawing on your lower lip. "Sure, one second Marcus. Just get cozy, you know where the coffee is" you told him, holding onto Victors arm as you pulled him to your office in the back. The door clicked shut behind you, muffling the classical music.

"What is it?" you asked him, obvious to the way he was seething with jealousy. Still, the anger in his stance was unmistakable, and when he cornered you with that dark expression, you flinched and sunk in on yourself.

As if he'd ever hurt you

The genuine hint of fear in your eyes made him stop, sighing deeply and taking a step back to give you room to breath.

"Did you ever care to tell me about your little boyfriend?" he asked you then, annoyance and anger lacing his voice. You looked at him like he had just grown a second head. "What- what do you mean? What boyfriend?"

Gideon pointed an agitated finger to the door "That man out there" he spat, just thinking about him made his blood boil.

"Marcus? Oh Victor, he's not-" you started but he shushed you "I understand. You don't want to admit it. I would feel shame too if I had to call this imbecile my partner" he ranted on, getting very riled up over this. His self control was fraying at the edges to the point he seemed like he was about to actually break something.

You held up your hands "I swear, Marcus is not my boyfriend." you crossed your arms over your chest "Why do you even care?" that question did it. He surged forward to grasp your upper arms, though not forcefully at all. He wasn't mad at you, he was mad at this prick waiting out there. His hands were itching to choke the life out of him.

"Why I care? He is a disrespectful fool. The way he looks at you- like you're a piece of meat to be claimed. Small, insignificant thing that he is." his right hand slipped up to cup your cheek, his touch electric, making you gasp softly "He could never treat you like you deserve. He could never provide for this shop, make it thrive." he whispered the last words, getting lost in your eyes.

"He might think he can satisfy you, but not the way I could. Oh, how I would worship you if you were mine..." he trailed off, following the curve of your lips as your breath caught, heat flooding your cheeks. His words stirred something in the pit of your stomach, a mix of flattery and desire you had buried during your quiet visits, in which you would have done anything to be able sit on his lap while he laizily kissed you "Victor, I-"

He brushed a thumb over your plush cheek "Tell me you see it too. He is weak, shallow. He cannot handle you" before you could respond, his lips crashed onto yours. The kiss was hungry, his mouth firm yet careful against your softer lips.

You melted into it, your body pressed back against the door, your hands roaming over his solid chest. He groaned into your mouth, his forked tongue slipping past your lips to tangle with yours, deep and demanding.

"God, you're delicious" he murmured against your lips, pulling back just enough to speak. "So soft, so perfect." his hand slipped down to your waist and you gasped against his mouth, arousal pooling between your thighs. "Victor...we really shouldn't-" but his tongue licking the shell of your ear already had you moaning for more. "But we will" he said, his voice a velvet rumble. "Because you want this too. Say it."

You whined, your nails scratching into the wood of your door. You hesitated at first, the thought of Marcus waiting out there gnawing at the back of your mind, but when you met Victors gaze, you threw all of that out the window. You had wanted this for months, you wouldn't let the chance go to waste

"I want you" you whispered, pulling him closer by his leather vest, one of your favourite garments you tailored for him.

His eyes darkened, and he kissed you again, waiting until you had snaked your arms around his neck so he could lift you. When he did, you squealed in surpise, hugging yourself tightly to his frame while your heart soared in your chest. No man had managed to carry you so effortlessly before.

Papers scattered as he placed you onto your workdesk, his large hands exploring your curves, squeezing your full breasts through your thin shirt, thin enough that your nipples hardened under his circling.

You moaned, the sound muffled by his mouth. He broke the kiss, trailing with hot lips down your neck, nipping at your sensitive skin.

Your hands shook as you placed them on his chest, pushing him away weakly. He left your neck with a wet pop, licking off the spit he had left. At first he thought you had changed your mind, disappointment settling low in his abdomen, but then you slid down the desk and sank willingly to your knees, your heart pounding as you faced the bulge straining his leather pants.

His eyes followed you down and he cursed. God, could you get any more perfect?

With trembling fingers, you unbuckled the thick snake belt, freeing his hard cock. It slapped your face wetly as you got it out of his briefs and you moaned in surprise. He was so big, veined red like the rest of his skin, longer than any cock you had ever seen. Now you weren't as confident in sucking him off anymore- just how much could you actually take and would you manage to make him feel good?

But as a thick, pearl of precum beaded at the tip, you couldn't help but to lick your lips desperately. "Suck me" he rasped, his hand threading through your hair. "Take what you can, beautiful"

You leaned in, wrapping your lips around the head, tongue swirling over the salty tip and moaning at the taste. He was way too big to take fully, but you tried your best, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head, one hand coming up to stroke what you couldn't fit into your mouth.

Victor hissed, hips bucking slightly, making you gag around him with a whimper. "That's it... god, your mouth feels like heaven. So warm, so eager. Better than that fool could dream."

You hummed around him at the praise, the vibration drawing a deep groan from his chest that was enough to stain your panties with arousal.Saliva dripped down your chin as you swallowed him down your throat, sucking harder, your hand clawing at his thigh to brace yourself as the pressure in your jaw made tears dwell up in your eyes.

His grip tightened in your hair, guiding your pace, craving to hear you gag and see you struggle around his size more. "Look at me" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. You did, your teary eyes meeting his yellow ones just as he forced you deeper, making your throat close around the intrusion. Oh how desired you felt in that moment, his touch tender on you while you pleased him.

After minutes of your devoted attention, he pulled you off with a wet pop. You gasped for air and coughed, whining as your lips searched his cock again. He denied you, chuckling as you pouted up at him. "Aren't you a thirsty little thing" he mused, raising you to your feet "You'll get your way soon, but I cannot bear another second without your arousal oozing onto my tongue" he muttered into your ear, every word pure filth that had you clenching your thighs.

He lifted you back onto the desk, your skirt hiked up to reveal your soaked panties. Victor knelt, impossible as it seemed for his height, his broad shoulders parting your thighs.

He peeled the fabric off if you, gingerly tugging it away into the inside pocket of his coat and exposing your pussy, glistening with need. "So wet for me already" he purred, his breath hot against your folds.

His forked tongue delved in without  warning, lapping from your entrance to your clit. You cried out, hands fisting his hair as pleasure shot through you. Fuck, you had imagined this moment- had spent hours daydreaming about how good his split tongue would feel flicking your clit. But nothing could have prepared you for this sensation.

He ate you out like a starving man, sucking your clit between his lips, then thrusting his tongue inside, curling it to hit that spot that made your toes curl over his shoulders.

"Victor...oh god" you moaned, grinding against his mouth in desperation, his nose bumping your clit repeatedly. He growled in response, the vibration sending sparks up your spine. One of his fingers suddenly circled your entrance before sliding in, enjoying the gasp you let out. He pumped it slowly, then added a second, stretching you as his mouth sealed around your clit, working your pussy to an explosive orgasm.

Your body tensed, thick thighs closing around his head "I'm gonna cum!" you warned,  the volume of your voice carrying all the way through the door.

"Do it" he demanded, voice muffled against your cunt. "Drench me, darling"

Your orgasm hit like a wave, your walls clenching around his fingers as you shattered, juices flooding his mouth. He lapped it all up, not stopping until you trembled from the overstimulation.

Just when you thought he would let you catch a breath, he started sucking harder, his fingers fucking you in a wild pace. You shrieked, falling backwards against your desk, your back arching off it and your legs quivering. "Again" he urged, your pussy squelching wetly around his fingers "I want more."

You wailed helplessly, but the pleasure built even sharper this time. His mouth was practically glued to your cunt, his tongue pressing and swirling around your swollen clit while his fingers thrust deep than before, hitting your g-spot every time you swallowed him down to his knuckles "V-Victor, please- it's too much!" you cried out, halfheartedly trying to push him off while also humping his tongue.

"No such thing" he rumbled, adding a third finger, stretching you wider. You mewled, the burn in your core immediate. You didn't know exactly what he was doing with his fingers, but whatever it was, it made you feel things you had never felt before. "No- no, Victor, wait- I have to-" you whimpered, desperate not to give into the feeling that told you that you were about to piss yourself.

Then he pushed you over the edge again, but instead of peeing, you squirted with a loud yell, hot liquid gushing out and soaking his chin and the desk. Victor gladly drank it all up, draining you for all you were worth. Waves of ecstasy crashed through you, harder than you'd ever felt, your body quaking in his grip until you laid boneless, your legs dangling over the edge of the table.

He rose, licking his lips, eyes blazing. "Look at you, squirting so pretty for me." he smiled, his warm hand spreading your thighs Judging by your...exquisite reaction, you never had this happen before, have you?" He wiped your release from his face with the back of his hand, then grabbed himself by the base to position his cock at your entrance, the head nudging your slick folds.

You squirmed as he lubed himself up with your slick, shaking your head "No" you admitted breathlessly, legs still trembling. "Never...never had this" you hiccupped. That had him grinning proudly. "Well, that would suggest you also never had...this" he then thrusted in with one powerful stroke, burying half his length into your gaping pussy. You moaned at the stretch, pain mixing with bliss as he filled you inch by inch. "So tight" he groaned, holding still to give you time to adjust. "But you're taking me so well, darling"

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, to completely thrust inside you.

He obliged your silent plea, pushing in fully, bottoming out pressed tightly against your cervix it felt like he was going to breach it. The sensation was overwhelming, his thickness setting every nerve on fire, the veins on his cock pulsing inside you.

Then he pulled back before slamming in with a slap, setting a vigorous rhythm from the start. The desk creaked under the force, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. "Oh my god, Victor!" you squealed, your nails digging into his shoulders through his coat.

He hooked one of your legs over his arm, pounding into you, the new angle letting you see stars. You felt so soft and pillowy around him, your walls swollen with need and hugging him tightly as if you never wanted to let him go.

"You're dripping around me, gorgeous. How does it feel to know that Marcus is hearing you get fucked good by another man? Do you want him to witness it with his own eyes next time?" he spat Marcus' name like it was poison, his sophisticated way of speaking abandoned in the haze of plowing into your stomach with desperation.

His filthy words ignited your core, another orgasm building fast. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a messy kiss to swallow your mewls, tongues sliding together as he fucked you senseless. One hand pulled the collar of your shirt and bra down to pinch your nipple, the other rubbed your clit in tight circles. All these sensations shattered you, your pussy spasming and squirting a second time around his pistoning cock, soaking his thighs.

"Yes! Oh, Victor, fuck I'm cumming!" you cried into his mouth, hot tears streaming down your cheeks while your legs shook uncontrollably, your toes curling. "D-don't stop" you begged, hugging his head tightly to your shoulder.

"Cum inside me...f-for Marcus to...see" you gasped into his ear, voice trembling from oversensitivity. Oh that did it. With a roar, Victor buried himself as deep as he could, his cock throbbing wildly as he came and hot cum exploded against your cervix. It bubbled out around his shaft from the force, leaking down your ass and onto your desk while he tried to keep it were it belonged.

He stayed inside you a moment longer, both of you panting and basking in the afterglow. He pulled out with hiss, watching his seed trickle from your used hole.

While he looked somewhat presentable after he had put himself back into his pants, you were a hot mess. Your face was flushed, your hair was all over the place from sweat and his hands, your lipstick smeared over your cheeks and your legs still trembling as Gideon helped you stand.

"Beautiful" he murmured, straightening out your skirt with surprising tenderness. He was a bit disappointed as he watched you try to fix your hair and make-up before you went out the door.

Marcus sat on the couch, stiff as a board, coughing out his coffee as the two of you emerged out of the office again, watching how you clenched your thighs together with every step.

You cleared your throat as well "Uhm, sorry for- uh, letting you wait so long" you said gingerly, fanning your burning face with your hand and pulling down your skirt with the other. "The matter we discussed was...very important" you giggled nervously, hoping Marcus hadn't heard as much as you thought he did.

He was about to answer when Victor spoke up "Correct. Which is why we came to the conclusion that the shop will remain closed for the rest of the week. If you want your suit fixed, you will have to come back next monday" he said, leaving no room for arguments, not even you had any strength left to fight his lie.

Victor wrapped you up in your own coat and shooed Marcus off the couch, who was only mumbling in incoherent confusion.

He practically pushed the man out the front door, enjoying the way he stumbled and nearly fell into a muddy rain puddle on the street. You linked your arm around Gideons to steady yourself while you walked, tired and a bit out of it, but happier than you had been in a long while.

"Is she okay?" Marcus asked as he stood near his car that he had parked in front of the shop, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket.

"Oh she's fine" Victor mused, helping you sit on his motorcycle. You cringed as your bare pussy brushed the leather, his cum staining the sleek material. "I'm just bringing her home" and with that, he saddled up behind you, shielding you with his warmth. You snuggled back against his chest with a blissful smile, one of Victors arms snaking around to hold you by your soft middle, the other making the motor howl.

He threw Marcus one last nasty glance before he sped off, leaving this polished bastard to mourn what he'd never have.

You.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

I really hope you liked this idea! I like to think it's pretty unique because i haven't seen it done before, but it only makes sense🤭

And again- if you want to support my stories with a bit of money, consider donating here through this link. Just the smallest amount really helps, thank you <3

"Yes, Sa'nok" you whined, jumping from one foot to the other in hopes your mother would finally let you dart off with your soul friend Varang, the daughter of the olo'eyktan.

Your mother smiled at your eagerness, packing you a small bag with fruits and a knife- just in case. She knelt in front of you to shrug the pouch over your head "Be back before the eclipse" she warned you sternly and you nodded quickly, about to bolt out the hut high between the trees, but your mother cought you by the arm.

"And...! Keep yourself safe. I love you, ma'ite" she said, her voice wavering. As if this was the last time she'd tell you this. You threw yourself around her neck and squeezed her tightly "I love you too, sa'nu" you muttered against her neck before she sent you on your way with a kiss to your forehead.

You eagerly climbed down the tree to meet Varang, who had been patiently waiting for you.

Together, you ducked under woven tapestry, your giggles echoing, slipping between a group of hunters who brought in a hexapede for the clan and jumping over tree logs until you reached the outskirts of your village.

You and Varang loved to explore the forest with all it's animals and plants, dreaming of the day you would ride your first direhorse and maybe even tame your own ikran!

The two of you played catch, you hunting Varang through the underbush until both of you were out of breath. After a short break, you started a game of hide and seek, hiding under small cliffs, inside hollowed tree trunks and under large palm leaves that engulfed your body completely. Varang wouldn't have found you if you hadn't giggled as she approached.

The day was warm, carefree and filled with laughter. It was one of those days you would remember for the rest of your life, though in that moment you weren't thinking about the future. You were just here, right now, with your best friend, challenging each other to see who could climb up a tree faster.

You were just chasing a few prolemuris swinging through the canopy above you, yipping cheerfully, when you heard a shout in front of you, followed by the deep growl of a viperwolf.

"What was that?" you whispered to Varang in fear, her ears pointed towards the sound.

"You wanna dance? Let's dance" you heard a male voice rasp, though you couldn't understand a word. Curious, Varang and you inched closer, your hand digging into her arm as a sense of dread overcame you. But Varang pulled you along rather confidentaly until you were squished between bushes, leaves and ferns, hidden from view.

There in front of you was a sky person, circled by an agitated viperwolf. He had probably stepped into her nest, and now she was protecting her young.

You gasped, Varang quickly slapping a hand over your mouth to silence you.

"Is that...a sky person?" you whispered to Varang, though she didn’t answer you. She only stared at him with a frown, her tail rigid. You had heard some stories about them from your parents, though you had never actually seen one. Sometimes you thought they were just fairytales the clan had made up to scare you from straying too far from the safety of the village.

As an 8 year old, you had stopped believing in these stories. Now it seemed like they always had been true.

But as you watched him fight for his life- he was so...small. Smaller than you and Varang, helpless against the aggressive snarl of the viperwolf as she lunged forward to scratch him. When she did, he landed a hit with his little knife- it barely even scraped her skin and he was swept off his feet. He rolled over the moss, his leg getting caught on thorns, ripping the weird cloth on his legs and the pink skin underneath.

Something in you snapped and you barely made it out of your hiding spot before Varang was pulling you by your bag,  slamming you backwards into the grass. "He needs help!" you shrieked quietly.

"You will get killed!" she hissed and you pushed her off, sitting up in time to see the man get slashed across the face by the viperwolfs claws and was forcefully thrown into a tree.

The wounds were deep and gnarly, stretching from the side of his head down to his cheek. You almost vomitted when you saw his skull through the cuts, his pained cries echoing in your ears.

"See, he is going to die anyway!" she bared her teeth, grasping your arm and tugging on you. You looked back as the animal pounced and he gurgled out a scream "But-" you protested, but Varang yanked you back, her face set in determination. "Come!" Reluctantly, you followed, the sounds of his struggles fading behind you while guilt twisted in your gut. You had left him to die, just like that.

Varang dragged you away from the scene. You had already walked too far, you shouldn’t have been here in the first place. "Skxawng, stupid, stupid!" she scolded you, the eclipse already near.

"He needed help!" you shot back, stomping through the moss behind her.

Varang whipped around "You are too weak to help!" she growled and your face fell in shock, you almost stumbled over your feet. "You will never be a warrior and you will never tame an ikran! It will kill you before you do, just like the viperwolf would have!"

Every word cut deep like a knife. You had never seen her so angry, talking so bitterly and harsh, to the point tears dwelled up in your eyes. You averted your gaze to blink them away, letting her hurtful words linger in silence while you made your way back to your village. All you wanted was to bury yourself in your mothers arms and cry until you fell asleep, hoping that by morning, everything would be like it had been.

Nothing would ever be like it used to as you approached your clan, and instead of lively chatter and laughter- all you heard were blood curdling screams.

"Varang!" shouted the tsahik as she spotted you two.

Everything...everything was burning.

Flaming rocks pierced the canopy and rained down your village, destroying huts, tents, setting animals and people on fire. You watched kids screeching in pain as the fire engulfed them whole, desperate soldiers trying to pull out their friends from ashy ruins.

The trees surrounding you groaned under the heat before they fell, the large trunks crushing clan members.

You and Varang stood frozen in horror. You couldn't move, even as your names were called. "-you have to go, run, Varang-" but the tsahiks words were cut off by a huge, defeaning explosion-

"No!" you shrieked, shooting up on your bed from your little afternoon nap and rolling off, hitting the ground with a painful thud, craddling your head in your arms to shield yourself.

You were shaking, your pulse racing in your chest so quickly you thought you were gonna die.

Desperately trying to calm yourself, you grasped your songcord around your neck, rocking back and forth and whispering to yourself "It was just a dream, just a dream, only a dream" you whispered, allthough you had the urge to call out for your mommy, your daddy, though the pleas for their comfort would forever be left unanswered.

Just when you thought your heartrate returned back to normal, heavy gunshots outside drove you up the wall again.

Your shaking legs carried you outside, where you watched soldiers of your clan and Quaritchs team shoot targets with automatic guns, the bullets splintering the wood and clinking to the ground.

Quaritch was walking between them, barking orders, critiquing the stance of warriors, though he looked fondly at Varang who was shooting with a mad grin on her face, and it took everything in her to not just shoot anywhere but to focus solely on the target.

You stood there with your ears turned down and your tail rigid, frowning at every gunshot. You might have found Quaritch attractive while he strutted around like this in his strange but form fitting sky people attire, voice full of authority and pride, maybe even wished to be in Varangs place as he stood behind her to correct her hold on the gun- but this newfound kind of voilence he taught your clan wouldn't let you.

When an empty bullet rolled against your feet you hissed audibly, making Quaritch turn his head to the sound. When he saw you, his ears perked up. "There she is! Little flower came out to bloom" he smirked, leaving Varang to handle her weapon alone, to which she watched you like a predator.

"Wanna try it out?" he joked, holding up a pistol into your direction just to enjoy the way you snarled. What he missed was your voice- your mouth remained shut even when he teased you. Little did he know that Varangs looming presence caused your silence, as if you weren't allowed to talk unless she gave permission. "Speak when you are spoken to" she hissed behind Quaritchs shoulder, making your stomach twist into knots.

"You will have to bury me before I touch this" you replied, glaring at the weapon in his hand, standing your ground even as he came closer. You didn't know if he viewed you as helpless- or even incompetent. You weren't, and in your agitated state, the urge to prove it to him rose up in your chest. He looked down at you then, his eyes half lidded.

Oh, he looked so handsome with that smirk.

"Come on, you know I'm only messing with'ya " he grinned, packing away the gun into a holster around his slender hips, holding up his hands to show you he was unarmed.

You were about to answer him with a pissy remark, when suddenly-

BOOOOM!!

A warrior of your clan had tested out a rocket launcher, destroying nearby dead trees and huts.

You shrieked at the loud noise and fell to your knees, the explosion and flames reflecting in your large eyes.

"Find your mother, you will be safe with her. Daddy is going to come looking for you" your father promised you in a panic, shoving you away from the burning trees and you sobbed, tears blurring your vision. Your foot got caught on a root and you fell, twisting your ankle. You cried out in pain as you laid there, chaos breaking out around you. Your father screamed your name and the next thing you knew, you were hauled up and thrown aside, before a burning tree hut came crashing down, severing off your fathers arm and killing him instantly, blood splattering onto your face.*

You screamed, the memory playing in front of your eyes like no time had passed since that moment. The noises around you seemed far away, as if underwater, voices weaving into the one of your mother, your father, the shouts of agony from your people.

Quaritch knelt next to you, his hand firm on your shoulder and arm, slightly pulling you against him. "Hey, hey, you're okay, it's alright" he assured you, his thumb soothingly rubbing over your skin, trying to comfort with hands that had brought nothing but suffering.

But you were stiff as a rock, your eyes burning as you stared into nothingness, that day you lost everything replaying in your head like a broken record.

Your heart was hammering against your ribcage, your lungs feeling like they were about to collaps. You couldn't breath with Quaritch holding you. He was warm, too warm, too hot, burning you.

With a guttural roar, one you could compare to a thanator, you sunk your nails into his arm and ripped yourself away from him, scrambling up to your feet. Quaritch cursed loudly, holding his arm that had blood gushing all over and dripping to the ground. Varang sprang in front of him with a hiss, as if to make sure you wouldn't strike again.

When Quaritch looked your way, all he saw was a mindless beast, a savage, your pupils shrunk to only a small dot, teeth bared in defense.

You felt something warm on your fingertips and slowly looked down at yourself. Your nails were stained....red.

Blood. His blood. You watched it trickle down his forearm, fist clenched from the sting. Quaritchs eyes were glued to you, though he didn't seem upset or angry at what you had done, didn't even seem to care about the three claw marks that mimicked the one his human self had on his face, not that you were able to place his expression in your current state.

When you met his eyes then, yours had turned soft again, your lip trembling softly as if you wanted to say something- anything.

Quaritch brushed past Varang, holding his hands up softly as he carefully approached you as if you were an abused animal. Maybe he would have gotten close enough to calm you if it weren't for some idiots munching on a grenade, pulling out the pin and almost making Lyle piss his pants trying to throw it as far away as possible before it would blow up.

The explosion made you flinch away from Quaritch just as he was about to reach you and you took off running in panic, sprinting away like a startled direhorse that had lost it's sense of direction. You just had to get out of here. Now.

"Wait, sugar!" he called after you, snarling to himself. He turned to see the two young mangwkan warriors that Lyle had confiscated the rest of the grenades from. "Motherfucker, I swear to god-" he growled at the men yipped in fear, ducking their heads low in shame. They looked pathetic, stupid, and Quaritch wasn't in the mood to scold them like little kids.

He groaned, sighing deeply. He took out some gauze from one of the many pockets on his vest, ripping off a piece with his teeth.

"Mawey, Let me treat it-" Varang started, grasping his arm, but he ripped it out if her grip rather harshly "No, I gotta go after her" he muttered, wrapping himself up quickly, the bandage soaking with blood.

Varangs mouth dropped open in slight shock. She wasn't losing him to you...was she? You two had barely spoken, why did he feel the need to follow you, you, out of all people? She frowned and held him back by his biceps, softly squeezing to make him turn to look at her.

When he did, she changed her scowl to a seductive smile. "Leave her be, Quaritch" she purred, her middle and pointer finger walking up his strong arm to his shoulder "She is weak, she always has been." she mused, pressing herself against him, her tail stroking his leg.

"She is blinded by fear. We do not need her to fight this war" Varang almost growled, placing her palm over Quaritchs chest "To win, we need strong hearts. Like yours"

She grinned in satisfaction as Quaritch seemed to give in to her flattery, her alluring voice and her almost naked body moving against his turning his head to mush.

He sighed, turning his head into the direction you vanished in before looking back down to Varang with a small grin, which was only half real "Guess you're right, cupcake" he muttered, his ears fluttering as she brushed her finger over his jaw, the sensation let shivers run down his back like the day she saved him.

Still, something gnawed at the back of his mind. This wasn't right.

★

The rain was pounding harshly against your skin, but at least it had washed away the blood on your hands.

It was hard to see through the pouring rain, and the tears that blurred your vision while you sobbed, hugging yourself close to your ikrans neck. At least you were able to trust her to fly safely, even when night fell over you and you couldn't see a thing.

You didn't now where you were going, how far away from home you were, how long it had been since the tears streamed down your carried no emotional weight anymore, and seemed to fall just because.

You felt cold, but calmer than you had before. Empty and...lost. What had you done?

Quaritch himself wasn't too calm. He hadn't seen you the whole day, the bandage around his arm served as the only reminder you two had interacted today. He was looking forward to talking to you more ever since the quiet moment you shared in your yurt, not that he would ever admit that to anyone- or himself.

He could only imagine you sulking in your bed right this moment while he, Lyle and the rest of the clan feasted near the fire.

Lyle sucked his fingers clean "Ready to go, boss?" he mumbled, standing up from the fireside. It was already pitch black, it was time they headed back to bidgehead.

Quaritch grunted in agreement, but he didn't look like he was about to get up. "I just..." he started, then he filled his empty stone plate with some scraps of meat which had been left and yes, even some fruits. No one dared to say anything, as the clan almost viewed him as their olo'eyktan with how close he was to Varang, who treated him with equal respect, which was rare for her.

Lyle tilted his head as Quaritch said his good-byes, but walked in the opposite directions of their helicopters where their ikrans were waiting.

He followed him to your yurt, where he shook his head with a sigh as Quaritch went inside.

"Hey, sugar. I brought you some food. It ain't much, but I even smuggled out some fruits for ya-" his words died on his tongue as he looked up from crouching in the doorway and was met with a cold, dark hut that basked in an eery quietness.

Quaritchs brows furrowed and he looked around for any sign of you, but your bed was empty and the fire had not been lit since yesterday. You weren't here. You hadn't returned to the safety of your yurt this afternoon. You were gone.

He threw the plate onto a little makeshift table which, really, was just a boulder with a flat top, before darting to your bed and grasping a piece of fur you used as your pillow.

"Can we go now, sir?" Lyle asked annoyed as Quaritch returned, though he didn't pay attention to what the corporal had said.

Quaritch put his pointer finger and thumb between his lips and let out a sharp whistling tune, to which his ikran shrieked and landed next to him just moments later.

He interlinked his braid, holding up the cloth to her nostrils.She smelled it, her eyes dilating and her head shot up south with a shrill roar, flapping her wings eagerly. "Good girl" Quaritch praised her before he saddled up.

Lyle watched him with a confused expression "Boss- where are you going? Admore is already-" but Quaritch quickly soared into the sky, leaving Lyle to huff in frustration, while the Colonel had only one thing on his mind.

Finding You. Alive.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Im SO sorry for updating this fic so late! I am really trying my best here but damn my health really doesn't want me to keep going lmao😭

Anyway, here is the tagslist. I really hope you guys still want to read this

@lott1exxx @melvin333 @barnes70stark @somaaaaaaaaaa @gemimamola27 @natie335 @wolfiemarley @always-1960 @quirkylaugher @kiyotofish @only4thefics @simpfor141 @goddess-of-spring @morgananyx @randomfan218-blog @caliicela @teabeen @moon-trash1507 @hiimava11 @vitaminnzz @agaypurpletoaster @amiets2 @thatgirljas13 @frey-williams @snorklingfae @saltedcoffeescotch @chaotickittenanchor @tsukiko26 @elizadj08 @cwberus @taylor-munson @r4vished @paledemonstorm @elifhearty @saibaxoxo @that-jay @stargirl432 @always-1960 @vampiremiguewecstacy @caliicela @qrts-only