#rock writes

It was another lazy Saturday morning, and the clock on the stove read ‘9:37 AM’. You had carefully snuck out of bed to start making coffee before Ryland could protest your absence.

This was your usual routine when you slept over at Ryland's apartment on Friday nights; the next morning, you would always start the coffee machine and begin making breakfast, letting Ryland sleep in a bit longer. He was a heavy sleeper, and you felt like he needed the sleep more than you. Besides, those early mornings biking to work and teaching middle schoolers all day took a lot out of the man.

Distractedly, your hand reached for the kitchen radio that was attached to the underside of the kitchen cabinet that held the coffee mugs. Your finger pressed the ‘on’ button and tweaked the volume dial down slightly. The radio crackled for a moment, and then the Saturday morning local news programme started playing.

You listened for a couple of minutes while pouring yourself a cup of coffee and rummaging through the fridge for milk. The usual news played: traffic is backed up on the Golden Gate Bridge, the local library is holding a fundraiser to raise money for its literacy programs, and it’s going to be sunny and warm for the next few days.

Tired of the news, you reached again for the dial on the kitchen radio and set it to 94.7 FM. Your fingers thrummed against the kitchen counter as you listened to the 70’s soft rock that played from the small radio. You raised your coffee mug to your lips to take a much-needed sip of coffee, savouring the taste.

Your ears perked at the subtle noise of Ryland in the bedroom. You could hear the bedframe creak from him rising out of bed, and the sound of the curtains being pushed to the side so he could look at the morning sun peeking over the clouds. You took this as your cue to start pouring him a cup of coffee, so you grabbed another mug from the cabinet.

You hummed quietly to yourself as the song ‘Angel of the Morning’ by Merrilee Rush played softly from the radio, pouring the freshly-brewed coffee into Ryland’s favourite mug, the one that said ‘World’s Greatest Teacher’ across the front.

Ryland padded barefoot into the quaint kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his tired eyes, his glasses hanging from one ear and tucked under his chin. He was clad in just blue plaid pyjama bottoms, the drawstring waist hanging low on his hips. Your eyes couldn't help but flicker to his toned stomach, catching a glimpse of the blonde curls that trailed down from his belly button before meeting his sleepy gaze.

“Good morning, baby.” You spoke barely above a whisper, still dozy yourself.

“G’morning, beautiful,” Ryland yawned, straightening his glasses on the bridge of his nose so he could see you better.

You stood in the kitchen, basking in the soft, warm glow of the morning sun. The simple sight of you made Ryland’s heart flutter in his chest.

He made his way next to you at the kitchen counter as you passed him his mug of coffee. The radio continued to play faintly in the background...

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

Just call me angel of the morning, angel

Just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby

Just call me angel of the morning, angel

Then slowly turn away from me

Maybe the sun's light will be dim

And it won't matter anyhow

If morning's echo says we've sinned

Well, it was what I wanted now

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

His large hand made contact with the small of your back, his pinky finger brushing up under the hem of your shirt. His chin dipped, and his stubble and soft lips connected with your temple, planting a long kiss on your hairline.

You could feel his lips curl upwards into a smile against your hair, and he pulled you closer to his chest. His skin was still warm from the bed, and your fingers danced across his toned chest, to his shoulders, and then down his biceps, giving them a playful squeeze.

A weak gasp escaped his lips as your fingers tickled his skin, creating a trail of goosebumps down his arms. You lifted your chin to meet his lips with your own, your mouth slightly parted as an invitation for his tongue.

He pressed his tongue against your plump bottom lip before devouring you through the heated kiss. Your warm bodies were flushed against each other, fitting together like puzzle pieces. You could feel his cock hardening under his thin pyjama pants, which were pressed firmly against your stomach.

Your hands snaked up from his arms to his neck, your fingers raking through the hair on the back of his head. You tugged lightly, and a moan reverberated deep from Ryland’s chest. He pulled away to look at you through half-lidded eyes, pupils blown from desire, while his glasses were slightly askew from the passionate kiss you two shared.

“Why’d you have to get up so early?” Ryland pleaded.

His hands were pawing at your hips and ass. You couldn’t help but laugh at his pathetic, needy state. Ryland's cheeks were tinged a soft pink colour, only slightly abashed from your involuntary giggle at his arousal.

“Ry, it's almost 10 o'clock,”

You nodded towards the clock on the stove. Ryland frowned, his glasses still off kilter. He shrugged, his eyes falling back onto you.

“Oh, c’mon, it’s Saturday. Saturdays are meant for sleeping in and morning sex.”

You gotta admit, he had a point.

You let out a chuckle, tucking your head under his chin and letting your hands fall from his hair down his back, fingertips tracing down his spine. You could feel his muscles shudder under your touch. It felt like electricity shooting down his spine.

Ryland’s thick, strong arms wrapped around your waist, and he picked you up with ease. You expected him to carry you back to the bedroom. But instead, he lifted you and plopped you down on the kitchen table. You let out a surprised yelp. Now, Ryland was kneeling in front of you, using his hand to part your knees.

“But I can’t wait any longer.”

It came out of him almost like a low growl. He was no longer looking sheepish, and his gaze was fixed on you.

You could feel a blush creep up your neck, and you could only imagine how flushed you looked. Ryland had never been this… forthright before, when it came to being intimate together. It surprised you, but also fueled the wetness that was pooling between your legs.

The look in Ryland’s eyes was almost primal, like he was a lion about to devour his prey. He was breathing heavily, with his lips slightly parted, and they shimmered with leftover saliva from your heated kiss. He looked exceptionally handsome, even with his hair standing up in all different directions from your hands, and his glasses were still crooked on his face.

His strong hands were now rubbing gentle circles on your kneecaps, his fingertips teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He drew his face closer to your core, settling his chin on the wooden table, mere inches away from you. You could feel the hot breath from his nostrils fluttering against the thin fabric of your pyjama shorts.

Your head fell backwards in ecstasy as you felt his warm hands travel up the inside of your thighs, his fingertips brushing under the hem of your shorts, nearly making contact with your groin.

He was teasing you, which drove you crazy, and he knew it. You melted completely at his gentle, featherlight touches.

His fingertips inched closer to where your plush thighs met your abdomen. On instinct, your thighs parted wider for better access, which earned you an eager, lopsided smirk from Ryland.

He was utterly enthralled with you; how you were propped up on the kitchen table, the morning sunlight streaming in behind you, legs spread apart for him. Your lips were slightly parted, your cheeks flushed, and your chest rising and falling rhythmically as you watched him with anticipation.

Slowly, Ryland began leaving a trail of tender kisses from your knees, going up your thighs. Your skin tingled from the contact of his soft lips in contrast with his stubbly beard on your smooth skin. His trail of kisses stopped at the crook of your thigh, and he shook his head, tutting sarcastically.

“Need these outta the way, fast,” he muttered, hooking his index fingers under the waistband of your pyjama shorts and pulling down.

You pushed back on your hands and raised your hips slightly in an attempt to help get your clothes off quicker. Ryland threw the shorts over his shoulder playfully, and his heavy-lidded gaze fell on your newly exposed skin.

His blue eyes met your own, and he raised his eyebrows as if to ask a silent ‘Is this okay?’ before proceeding. You nodded enthusiastically before raising a leg and hooking your knee over his shoulder, pulling him closer to your aching core.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” he joked.

Ryland’s face edged closer to your wet cunt, his nose bumping your clit slightly. His hands made their way to under both your thighs, helping to angle your hips in a way so he could get a full view of you.

Without warning, you could feel his mouth on you, his tongue licking a wide stripe up your soaked folds. He let out a pathetic whimper at the taste of you. You could hear him curse under his breath as he rested his head against the inside of your thigh. He nipped and sucked at your clit, using his tongue to make quick circles around it.

You let out a trembling moan at the feeling of Ryland’s tongue against your throbbing core. Suddenly, you could feel the pads of his index and middle fingers prodding at your entrance, begging to dive in. You threw your head back, another shaky moan escaping your lips, as Ryland’s thick fingers slid inside you, pumping in and out in perfect rhythm.

As he kept swirling his tongue around your clit, he curled his fingers, his fingertips pressing against the spongy spot inside of you that made you see stars. Your thighs clamped tighter around his head, and he groaned into your cunt at your involuntary reflex to his skilled fingers.

The heels of your feet dug into Ryland’s back while you had one hand behind you, trying to keep balance on top of the kitchen table, with your other hand gripping a fistful of his dirty blonde hair. You tugged at his hair, making him moan and whimper, while still lapping at your dripping pussy like he was starving.

Soon, you could feel pressure building in your lower abdomen, threatening to burst. Your heels dug deeper into his toned back, completely trapping Ryland against you. Not that he’d complain, he’d sooner die of lack of oxygen than take a break from eating you out.

Ryland could tell you were getting close to your climax, and he egged you on.

“Mmf-! P-please, baby… cum on my face,” he whimpered, his voice muffled by your pussy.

You could barely speak, but the dirtiest-sounding moans were dripping from your lips like honey.

Not long after, you could feel the bubble bursting inside your lower belly, and your fingers gripped Ryland’s hair even tighter as a loud moan escaped you. You could feel yourself beginning to cum against his thick fingers, with his tongue still eagerly pressed against your clit.

Finally, you let go, becoming completely undone before Ryland on the kitchen table. Your orgasm racked through you in waves of electricity, causing your eyes to roll into the back of your head. For a moment, you felt paralyzed, before leaning forward and nearly collapsing on Ryland.

He held you for a minute, your head pressed against his chest while he rubbed soothing circles on your back. The kitchen radio was still playing, and he reached over to switch it off.

“Let’s go back to bed, hm? Sleepyhead,” Ryland's tone was teasing and affectionate.

You raised your head to look at him through half-lidded, blissed-out eyes. He had his signature charming, lopsided smile spread across his lips, which were shiny from your slick. His hair was even messier, and his glasses were fogged up.

Nevertheless, Ryland scooped you up in his strong arms and proceeded to carry you back to bed, where you could sleep off your orgasm and perhaps gain back your energy to keep the fun going. After all, what are Saturdays for?

[the end!]

Hey, little girl, is your daddy home?

Did he go and leave you all alone? 

The lyrics rang out in Lars’ aching skull. It felt like his head was close to imploding. He gripped the steering wheel of his ‘87 Tercel and blinked harshly, trying to focus on the open road in front of him. 

It was past midnight. He didn’t mean to spend that long at Cindy’s house party, but he got distracted. At least he kept telling himself that. 

In reality, you were there—Lars’ newest coworker. You had only been working together for the last couple of months, but somehow you had wormed your way into Lars’ brain, and he couldn’t shake you. No matter how hard he tried to ignore your presence in the office, his eyes kept wandering over to your cubicle. He couldn’t help it; you were enchanting to the poor guy. His cubicle mate often teased him about it, saying how he looked like a kicked puppy every time you went and chatted with another coworker who wasn’t Lars. 

Again, Lars couldn’t help it; he felt oddly protective of you. He could feel jealousy bubble within his chest and spread like lava through his veins. He didn’t want anyone touching or talking to you. 

In his mind, you belonged to him. 

I got a bad desire

Oh, oh, oh, I'm on fire

And so he was a little bit distracted at Cindy’s house party tonight. You were in the corner, chatting with Margo and Cindy, a drink in hand, looking ethereal in the warm glow of the living room. Lars could feel saliva pooling under his tongue, and he had to make a conscious effort not to stare. 

Cindy turned toward the stereo set and turned up the volume. Bruce Springsteen was playing, and everyone was swaying to the music. Suddenly, Erik, another coworker of Lars, appeared beside you, his mouth awfully close to your ear to say something over the loud music. Erik was far too close to you; it felt intimate to Lars. And this only made him feel more possessive over you. 

Tell me now, baby, is he good to you?

And can he do to you the things that I do? Oh no

Lars loosened his grip on the steering wheel for a moment as the tense moment replayed in his mind over and over again. Erik had encroached on your personal space, and you seemed unbothered by it. In fact, it had seemed like you welcomed it. Lars was now white-knuckling the steering wheel. 

This only made Lars more frustrated. The simple act of another man whispering in your ear, lips inches away from your face, another man’s hot breath against your skin, made him see red. 

I can take you higher

Oh, oh, oh, I'm on fire

Lars continued driving down the road, jaw flexing as he clenched his teeth. His eyes continued to blink rapidly, and his head felt nauseous and heavy. He felt hot and strained under his clothes, like he needed some sort of release. He rubbed at his face with one hand as his foot pressed harder on the gas pedal, tires losing a bit of traction against the slick road as he turned sharply into his driveway. 

Lars made a mad dash for his apartment door, as the bedroom light was still on at Karin and Gus’ place. He didn’t need them coming down and interrogating him about his wild night out at the party. 

Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby

Edgy and dull, and cut a six-inch valley

Through the middle of my skull

His large fingers pulled at his coat zipper and the layers beneath it, stripping himself down to his undershirt as he made way for his bed. He found himself on top of his bed, face buried deep in his pillow, grasping at his blanket. He felt angry and pathetic, frustrated and overwhelmed with unrecognizable emotions that bubbled to the surface when he thought of you. 

You, your hair, your face, your body. 

Lars was met with an internal battle every time his eyes fell on you. He shouldn’t have these thoughts about you; it wasn’t right. He felt dirty, seedy, deplorable. It wasn’t right. 

But Lars couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help the straining feeling he felt in the front of his pants when he thought of you. 

At night, I wake up with the sheets soaking wet

And a freight train running through the middle of my head

Lars’ hand palmed at himself through his pants, his face still pressed against his pillow. He couldn’t fight this feeling any longer. He felt lightheaded as his large palm made contact with his aching cock through the fabric, and he let out a pathetic whine into the pillow. 

The memory of Erik approaching you at Cindy’s party lingered in Lars’ mind as he gritted his teeth, letting out a frustrated breath as he rotated onto his side. His fingers fidgeted around the fly of his pants, and he could feel the cool air hit his sensitive skin as his undershirt rode up, exposing the soft flesh of his stomach. 

In no time, Lars had his fly undone and his large hand rubbed against his cock through his briefs, sending shivers up his spine. He could feel a wet spot forming in his underwear, where his tip was beginning to bead with precum. He let out a soft whimper as his pinky broke the seal of the waistband of his briefs, and he couldn’t help but shove his hand lower until he was fully gripping his thick length. 

Now, Lars was painting an image of you in your office wear in his mind; your usual cardigan, blouse, and skirt. But his mind began to wander to what was hidden beneath it. 

His head turned to muffle his moan into his pillow as he stroked himself, picturing you stripping for him until you were just in your undergarments. He imagined a black lace bra and matching panties, and the rhythm of his strokes stuttered for a moment. 

Lars could feel himself nearing the release he had been searching for for months. 

Lars’ pace became unforgiving, and he found himself whimpering loudly as his hand squeezed the base of his cock, sending electric shocks throughout his body. He could feel a warm sensation pooling in his lower belly, and he squirmed as he approached release. 

Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, and his cheeks were flushed pink as he squeezed his teary eyes shut and imagined your hand on his cock instead of his own. 

Finally, Lars was met with relief. 

Lars let out a low, growl-like moan as he came on himself. Hot spurts of cum pooled on his bare stomach as his body slowly relaxed. His softening cock twitched in his hand as he rested his head back on his pillow, chest rising and falling with every laboured breath. 

Lars lay still for a few minutes, blinking slowly as his tense muscles relaxed into his soft bed. He enjoyed this feeling of momentary bliss, feeling peaceful and subdued. It was a similar sensation to how he felt after chopping wood for a while, whenever he repressed his feelings. But this was a much better outlet for Lars. 

Only you can cool my desire

Oh, oh, oh, I'm on fire

Oh, oh, oh, I'm on fire

Oh, oh, oh, I'm on fire

[the end!]

“Dad, Miss [Y/LN]’s here! C’mon, get up already--”

You could hear Holly’s high-pitched voice from behind the front door, and a low groan from Holland right after.

The door opened to reveal Holly standing in the entryway, a big smile on her face and her school bag thrown over her shoulder. In the background, Holland could be seen leaning against the kitchen counter, a lit cigarette hanging lazily from his lips.

Holly stepped aside for you to enter the home, and you gave her a warm smile.

“Hey, kiddo. You ready for the big math test today?”

You gave her shoulder a light, endearing squeeze, and she nodded. Holly mentioned to you last week about this big, scary math test coming up, and you had helped her with her homework and checked in on her every once in a while to make sure she’d been studying, instead of getting into trouble.

“Should be! I stayed up late studying… but not too late! Dad didn’t even drink last night, either, which was a bonus.”

“What a thoughtful guy.” You said dryly, a smirk forming on your lips as your gaze fell on Holland’s slouched figure in the kitchen.

Holland pretended as if he took offence to your sarcasm, scoffing as he tapped his cigarette into the ashtray.

“I’m really trying over here, alright? Gimme a break,” Holland grumbled, clearly a bit frustrated from the alcohol withdrawals. He’d been on and off with drinking lately, but hadn't picked up the bottle in the last couple of days, so his patience was wearing thin.

“Dad of the year award goes to…” Holly muttered as she rolled her eyes.

You gave Holly a gentle nudge with your elbow and gestured with a nod for her to head out to the car.

“I’ll be out in a sec, hon. Just gonna have a quick chat with your dad.”

Holly bobbed her head cheerfully and skipped down the front steps to your car.

You strutted across the room to where Holland was, and he straightened his posture as you got closer. You drew in a deep breath, mostly out of habit, to see if you could smell the scent of whiskey on him. But this morning he smelled like tobacco and day-old cologne, mixed with his usual musk.

You looked up at Holland, a smug grin painted across your lips. You watched as the cigarette dangled from his trembling lip.

You had this effect on Holland; you were a dominant woman. Cunning, gorgeous, independent. You knew what you wanted and always got it. But you were also kind, loving, and so genuine. You made his head spin and the front of his trousers tent.

“How’s my baby doing today?” You asked with an eyebrow cocked and a freshly manicured hand on your hip.

Holland gulped. He could already feel his cock straining against the zipper of his pants.

“G-good. A l-little shaky today, b-but… good.”

His hands gripped the kitchen counter behind him. You were standing close, your body almost flush against his. He felt trapped by you, and it drove him nuts.

Your hands reached up to fix one of the buttons on his wrinkled dress shirt, and Holland’s breath caught in his throat as your fingers grazed his chest.

You couldn’t help but smile at the way you had this man wrapped around your finger.

“Good, sweetheart. Put those shaky hands to good use later, okay?” Your voice was low and velvety in Holland’s ear.

You caught Holland’s eye twitching nervously, and your gaze lowered down to his groin. There was an impressive tent in his trousers.

Your hands raked down his chest and grazed the outline of his cock, which strained against the fabric of his pants. Holland let out a short, high-pitched whine.

“Well, we don't want Holly waiting too long. She’s got a big day ahead of her. She’s gonna ace that test, I can feel it.”

You stepped back from Holland, and he looked as if he was ready to collapse. His breathing was laboured, and he stamped his barely lit cigarette out in the ashtray.

As you made your way to the front door, Holland called out behind you.

“Y’know, I, uh… I really appreciate what you're doing for Holly. She really needs s-someone like… like you in her life.”

You stopped at the door, your hand grasping the door frame as you casually looked over your shoulder, meeting Holland’s eyes.

“Oh, don’t kid yourself, March. You need me just as bad.”

And with that, you got in your car and drove Holly to school, leaving Holland behind in the kitchen, feeling faint from his hard-on for you.

On the drive to school, you and Holly went over the test material that would be on her math quiz later that day. You made sure to mention how proud of her you were, that she was really turning her grades around and taking her education more seriously.

“Y’know, Holly. There’s nothing more dangerous than an educated woman.” You'd say to her.

You pulled up to the school drop-off zone, putting your car in park and turning to say goodbye to Holly. But Holly interrupted you.

“Miss [Y/L/N],--”

“Please, hon, just call me [Y/N]. You’re makin’ me feel old.” You tutted while checking yourself in the rearview mirror, using your middle finger to soften the harsh line of your lipstick.

Holly drew in a deep breath before continuing.

“Dad said I have to call you Miss [Y/L/N], to be respectful. Anyways, I just wanted to say… Thanks for always being there for me. I know it's only been a couple of months, but… I really like you. You’re not like the other women my dad’s been with… after my mom died.”

You glanced at Holly with an inquisitive eyebrow raised.

“What do you mean, ‘not like the other women’?”

“Well, you’re not a whore. You’re really nice and smart.”

“Hey, don’t discredit whores. You never know when you're gonna need one.”

Holly let out a half-stifled giggle.

“But I appreciate that, Holly. You’re a good kid,”

You both paused for a moment.

“I just want to make sure you get ahead in life.”

Your fingers fidget with the leather on the steering wheel. This was the first tender moment you and Holly had shared since you came into her life. However, her kind words settled the anxiety you had around your role in her life. Albeit short, it seemed like you had made a good impression on the young girl, which was what you had hoped for.

Holly reached for the door handle to exit the car, and you met her gaze. She looked a bit nervous, probably about her test later, so you gave her another heartfelt smile.

“You got this, hon. You’re gonna kill it. I’ll be back later to pick you up, okay?”

Holly gave you a big grin, nodding cheerfully as she exited the car. She gave you an enthusiastic wave as she walked through the doors of her school, joining the crowd of students.

You gripped the gearshift and put the car into drive and sped off down the road, back to the March residence.

Inside, Holland had been waiting impatiently for your return. He felt like he was seeing double; his cock was so hard, it made him feel like he was going to pass out any minute.

He paced his sunken living room, nervously running his fingers through his hair. He itched for a drink to calm his nerves, but he knew he definitely wouldn't be able to stay hard if he did.

Holland’s ears perked up at the sound of your key turning in the lock, and he spun around to see you walking through his front door. He felt his dick twitch in his pants at the sight of you.

“Miss me?”

The words dripped from your lips like honey.

God, did Holland miss you.

And you were only gone for, what, fifteen minutes?

“Fuck yes, I did.”

Holland rushed you where you were standing, his lips making contact with the tender skin under your jaw. His facial hair prickled against your soft skin as he nipped and sucked at your neck, his hands grasping at your hips and ass.

Your hands travelled up his back and neck, and found their way into his dirty-blonde hair. You gripped a handful of his hair with your fist, yanking his head back so he could look you in the eyes.

His pupils were blown with lust, but there was a hint of fear in his eyes.

And that only made you wetter.

“So needy already, sweetheart.” You tutted in a disapproving tone and tightened your grip on the fistful of Holland’s hair.

Holland let out a pathetic whimper at the burning feeling on his scalp.

“Please, baby. I-I’ve been so good, I--”

Holland’s voice cracked pathetically.

You let go of the fistful of Holland’s hair, and he whined as he stumbled. You steadied him by using one hand to grip his shoulder and the other to palm his hard-on through his pants.

“You think you deserve to be fucked by me?” You questioned in a low, harsh tone.

Holland swallowed nervously, but you felt his cock twitch against your palm.

“No, n-never. Never in a million years--”

“That’s right. Good boy,”

Holland could feel his knees start to buckle under him. His hands were shaking; he wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol withdrawals or his animalistic desire for you.

You pushed Holland towards the bedroom, letting the man stumble around as he began unbuttoning his day-old dress shirt and unbuckling his pants. His hair was messy, his eyes half-lidded with lust, all while his fingers trembled with anticipation.

Oh, it was a pretty sight.

Holland perched on the bed, on his hands and knees, his shirt half-unbuttoned, and pants unbuckled as he looked up at you with his big, puppy dog eyes.

You could see Holland’s straining cock trying to push free from his zipper. His chest rising and falling with every anticipating breath, ready for your next command.

You slowly began stripping in front of the pathetic man, teasing him with every layer you peeled off (painfully slow, I might add).

Every time his hand reached out for you, to feel your soft skin, you’d slap it away.

“Did I say you could touch me?”

Your tone was harsh.

Holland would rather die than disappoint you, so he sat back on his heels. He was looking up at you with needy eyes, the vein in his forehead pulsing as he tried to restrain himself.

Soon, you were completely nude in front of Holland, and his jaw flexed as he gritted his teeth. His pupils were blown wide with lust as his gaze washed up and down your figure.

Holland could feel saliva starting to pool under his tongue.

“Please,” his voice croaked. “Please, can I taste you?”

You couldn't help but smile at his bedroom etiquette.

God, Holland was desperate.

You took a couple of steps toward him, and his head fell back to keep eye contact with you. His hands were fidgeting with his belt buckle, and you glanced at the large print of his cock under his briefs, peeking through his unzipped pants.

Your hand found purchase around Holland’s pretty throat and gave it a light squeeze before your lips made contact with his. He groaned against your mouth, his voice vibrating against the pressure of your palm against his windpipe.

The kiss was hot, sloppy, and passionate, and when you broke away, a string of Holland’s saliva connected your lips to his own.

Your fingers made quick work of unbuttoning the rest of Holland’s wrinkled dress shirt and tossing it to the side. You gave him a not-so-gentle push backwards, making him lose balance and fall back onto the soft bed with a ‘oof’.

“I guess you’ve been good enough. Right, darling?”

Your tone was teasing. Holland gulped, appearing almost frantic.

“I-I’ve been real good, baby, I swear--”

“Then get to work.”

With one leg on either side of Holland’s ribcage, you looked down into Holland’s wide, blue eyes as he nodded desperately. He shimmied under you to line his face up with your wet, slick core, his hands inching up your soft thighs and spreading them even wider.

Without hesitation, Holland hooked his strong arms under your thighs and pulled you down towards him. In seconds, you were sitting on top of his face as his lips feverishly licked and sucked at your bud of nerves. You could feel his prickly mustache and stubble rubbing against your pussy, creating eye-rolling friction against your wetness.

Your fingers grabbed hold of his tousled, dirty-blonde hair, tugging at his scalp as his tongue explored inside of you. You could feel Holland’s prominent nose rubbing and bumping against your clit, driving you crazy.

You let out a soft moan, barely audible, but it only made Holland work harder. He derived immense pleasure from hearing your moans, knowing that he was pleasing you how you liked. He was desperate for your praise, to make you feel good.

You began rocking your hips against his tongue and chin, revelling in the feeling of his facial hair rubbing against your core.

Suddenly, you felt the pad of Holland’s thumb pressing against your clit, rubbing quick, unforgiving circles against the swollen bud. You tossed your head back in ecstasy, eyes rolling back as unmistakable moans of pleasure tumbled out of you.

You could feel Holland whimpering and crying against your pussy, the vibrations of his whines sending shockwaves up your core. He couldn’t help it; he could barely breathe, but he knew this was the way he wanted to go out. He would die a happy man with his face buried in your pretty pussy.

With the combination of the feeling of his tongue dipping into your wet heat and his thumb circling your clit, you couldn’t hold back your orgasm any longer.

You let out a choked sob as your climax came crashing down. You had no strength to hold yourself up, and you found Holland’s hands gripping your sides, trying to steady your body as he clambered out from under you.

You fell back against the pile of soft pillows, eyelids fluttering as you tried to regain your energy after your intense orgasm. You felt the weight of Holland next to you in the bed.

Holland rubbed your thigh, trying to soothe you and bring you back to reality. You reached out for him, grasping his wife-pleaser by the collar and pulling him toward you for a sloppy, passionate kiss.

“Did I do alright?” Holland asked, with big, pleading eyes. His lips, mustache, and stubbled chin were shiny with your wetness. You could see his erection was still pressing against his trousers, but there was a large wet spot from him leaking his pre-cum.

“Oh, Holland. Don’t ask stupid questions and just fuck me.” Your voice was high and fluttery, a stark contrast to your usual low, teasing tone.

You helped Holland peel off the rest of his layers, and he settled himself between your legs, hips pressing against yours as he lined up his large cock and sank into your aching core.

Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, he filled you up with his impressive cock and began to pump in and out of your pussy. The noises that were coming from you two were wet, sloppy, and downright sinful.

Your fingernails raked down Holland’s back, leaving bright red lines behind, marking your territory. You wrapped your legs around Holland’s hips, pulling him closer to you as he bottomed out. His large hands gripped your waist hard, as if he was worried you’d disappear on him.

He let out a pathetic whimper as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, muttering something inaudible. You knew he was trying his very best not to come fast; usually, if he looked you in the eyes while inside of you, it was game over for Holland.

In between thrusts, he kept blubbering in your ear, stringing together words that didn’t make any sense.

“Baby, I can’t hear you--”

Holland lifted his head from your shoulder and looked you square in the face.

“I-I love you, alright?” Holland exclaimed in between thrusts, and you could see tears forming in his eyes. Holland’s pace slowed for a moment as he blinked back tears, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“I-I’m sorry, I uh-I don’t know what came over me. Just forget I said anything.”

Holland started to backtrack and sped up his pace. Your hands cupped his jaw, forcing Holland to look you in the eyes again.

“No, no… It’s okay, Holland. I… I love you, too.”

Holland stopped thrusting entirely, his jaw slack with astonishment as he watched your face, looking for any hint of humour.

“You really mean that?”

“Yes, dumbass. I wouldn’t be doing all this shit for you if I didn’t.”

“I… Right, you’re right. I’m stupid. Can I… can I call you my girlfriend?”

You cocked an eyebrow, giving Holland a judgemental look.

“Since when is that how you ask a grown woman to be your girlfriend?”

“Fuck, shit. I’m sorry. Will… will you be m-my girlfriend?”

“God, you’re pathetic. Yes, Holland.”

There’s a hint of annoyance in your tone, but you can't help but smile up at Holland above you. A dumb, lopsided smile spreads across his lips before he gets back down to business, pushing your thighs to your chest and drilling into your aching pussy.

Not long after professing your love for each other, you're both cumming in unison, bodies spasming together as you both come down from your high.

Holland’s full weight was on top of you, softening cock still inside you as he brushed your hair away from your face. He nuzzled into your neck, kissing the sensitive skin under your jaw.

You can't help but let out a breathy laugh at the handsome man’s pathetic clinginess post-coitus.

“Holly’s gonna be so happy when I tell her the good news,”

Holland murmured as he pressed a long kiss to your temple.

“Great, why don't you tell her when you pick her up from school today?”

Holland let out a loud chuckle. You shot him an annoyed look.

“I was thinking about having a few drinks to celebrate.”

“Dad of the year, everybody.”

[the end!]

[post-dinner date, at Lars’ garage apartment]  

Lars guided you to sit down on his soft bed, the mattress dipping from his weight, settling next to you. In the palm of his large, calloused hand, Lars revealed a small, blue velvet jewellery box. 

“Oh, Lars! You shouldn't have,” you cooed, reaching for the jewellery box. The crushed velvet material of the box felt smooth in your hands. 

You watched as Lars became flushed, his pale cheeks turning a warm shade of pink. He shrugged, squeezing his eyes shut for a second before meeting your gaze. 

“Oh, I-it’s no big deal, my angel.” 

“Anything you get me is a big deal to me, darling,” You whispered as you leaned close to Lars’ face, planting a tender kiss against his reddened cheek. 

Lars nuzzled against your gentle touch, enjoying the feeling of your soft lips against his stubbly cheek. 

You turned your attention back to the jewellery box, feeling the smoothness of the crushed velvet material in your hand. Your fingers pried open the jewellery box, revealing a beautiful and simple necklace, just a silver chain with a single pendant of the letter ‘L’. 

Your eyes widened with surprise as your fingers ran over the pendant, feeling the cool metal with your fingertips. Lars’ warm hand was now rubbing gentle circles on your upper thigh, a small smile blooming from under his well-groomed mustache. 

“Lars,... it's gorgeous…” You murmured, enamoured with the necklace. 

You couldn't help but feel some warmth pooling in your lower abdomen, pure lust igniting within your core. You were now desperately aware of how large Lars’ hand was against your leg, and how dangerously high it was on your thigh. 

“Thank you, darling. I love it,” You watched as the silver glinted in the candlelight. 

Lars hummed, reaching for the necklace and brushing your hair away from your neck. You turned your body away from Lars as Lars laid the necklace against your decolletage and clasped it behind your neck. You could feel his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck as you head your hair up for him so it didn’t get in the way. You couldn’t help but press your thighs together, in a weak attempt to restrain your desire for your handsome boyfriend. 

You let out a soft, breathless moan as Lars pressed a long, wet kiss to your neck, his mustache prickling against your skin. Suddenly, his warm, large hands snaked around and found their purchase on your chest, cupping your breasts as his thumbs ran over your nipples, sending shocks of electricity through your body as they hardened from his light touch. 

“Now everyone will know you’re mine,” Lars whispered against your ear, leaving a trail of kisses under your jaw. 

“Darling, everyone in town knows we’re together--” Your breath caught in your throat as Lars nibbled on your earlobe. 

“I don’t like how that coworker of yours looks at you, angel.” Lars’ voice was low and gravelly. 

You shuddered against his calloused palms as they kneaded your breasts. 

“Oh, R-Ryan? Lars, baby, he’s harmless--” you cut yourself off with a moan as Lars pinched at your hardened nipples through your shirt. 

“He needs to know who you belong to.” 

Lars’ mustache tickled your shoulder as his head dipped lower, his teeth scraping against the soft skin of your exposed shoulder. Another moan escaped your lips as your head fell back against Lars’ broad chest. 

His right hand came up to pinch the pendant between his pointer finger and thumb, rolling the silver ‘L’ between his calloused fingertips. 

“You understand, angel?” Lars breathed against your ear, sending shivers up your spine. 

You gave a weak nod, feeling like putty in your boyfriend’s enormous hands. 

“I need to hear you say it, my angel.” 

“Yes, Lars. I’m yours, darling. Only yours.” 

Lars gave a content hum, pleased with your answer, and rewarded you by slipping his hands under your shirt, pinching and rolling your nipples. 

You let out a short whine, signalling to Lars that you need more, and you need it fast. 

Lars understood immediately, and you lifted your arms as he peeled your shirt from your figure. His large hands were back on you, turning your body so you were facing him. Lars couldn't help but let out a low growl at the sight of your bare breasts before pressing his face against your chest and pushing you down on the bed. 

Lars pounced on you immediately, pushing his large frame between your thighs and grinding his still-clothed thick cock against your aching core. The feeling of his large, solid member rubbing against the fabric of your panties as your skirt pushed up your hips was enough to send you into a frenzy. You could feel your wetness starting to pool in the gusset of your underwear from the friction, and a breathy moan escaped your lips. 

Your soft hands trailed upwards from Lars’ broad shoulders to his face, tracing his cheekbones with your delicate fingertips. Lars melted at your feathery light touch, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he attempted to stifle his own whimpers from the feeling of his hard cock dragging against your clothed core. 

“Lars, baby, please--” You whispered between your moans of pleasure. 

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Lars was undressing you, stripping you of your final layers and tossing them somewhere in his small apartment. 

In seconds, you were completely nude before Lars. He leaned over top of you, his large frame eclipsing the moonlight that spilled through the window into his small apartment. His eyes slowly washed over your figure, memorizing every curve, dip, and freckle. 

“Y-you’re so pretty, angel…” Lars murmured sheepishly, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink as he blinked, trying desperately to regulate himself. 

His gaze held on your new necklace, shiny and bright against your complexion. The sight of his initials on a chain around your neck sparked some perverse craving deep inside Lars, and he felt his heavy cock twitch against the fabric of his grey trousers. 

Finally, something to show the world how you were his and only his. 

Lars squeezed his eyes tight as his rough hands groped at your body before gripping your shins and pushing your legs towards your torso. You let out a gasp at the new position, feeling the cool evening air on your exposed pussy. Lars could feel saliva begin to pool under his tongue at the sight of your slick core gleaming in the soft light.

You could hear your handsome boyfriend whimper softly and whisper to himself, “all mine,” before lowering his face to lap at your wetness. 

A guttural moan slipped past your lips in surprise at the warmth of Lars’ tongue against your throbbing entrance. Lars licked a thick strip with his tongue from your opening up to your clit before suckling at the hardened bundle of nerves. 

Your hands left the bedsheets and found purchase in his dark blond locks, fingernails scraping against his scalp. Lars groaned at the burning sensation, sending vibrations through your pussy that travelled like shockwaves up your spine. 

“G-gosh…, y-you taste so good, my angel…,” Lars moaned against your aching core. 

The sensation of Lars’ prickly mustache rubbing against your slick folds, combined with his nose bumping against your sensitive bud while his tongue dipped inside your pussy was almost enough to drive you to your climax. 

Lars could feel you tensing and unclenching against his mouth, and he knew you needed more to reach your release. Suddenly, you felt a calloused fingertip press against your clit, rubbing quick and unforgiving circles against the hardened bud while his tongue swirled at your entrance. 

Your grip on Lars’ hair became tighter as your hips involuntarily bucked against his mouth. Lars let out a loud, broken moan against your core as he pressed a large hand over your abdomen, forcing you against the bed. 

Now, his tongue had replaced his fingertip on your clit, swirling and suckling at it as his fingers prodded at your wet entrance. You felt one of his thick, long fingers press into you, sinking into your warm, silken core with little to no resistance. 

Lars let out another content hum at the sight of your pretty pussy sucking his finger in, like you were made for him. He set an unrelenting pace for pumping his thick finger in and out of you. 

You let out a sob, begging for more of him as you writhed on Lars’ bed from his touch. Lars happily obliged, adding a second finger to pump in and out of your pussy. The loud, wet sounds of his thick fingers oscillating in and out of you filled the small apartment. 

Your head fell back onto the mattress in ecstasy as Lars curled his fingers inside of you, his calloused fingertips brushing against that spongy spot inside of you that brought you close to your climax. 

A hoarse moan slipped past your lips as you felt the red-hot coil inside your lower abdomen tighten and burst. Your back arched off the bed as your grasp on Lars’ hair loosened, momentarily feeling paralyzed as your orgasm rippled through your body. 

Lars whimpered helplessly against your core as your thighs involuntarily clamped around his head. However, Lars didn’t ease up on his ruthless touch, and he suckled at your clit as you rode out your release against his mustache. 

Slowly, your body relaxed against Lars’ soft bedsheets, chest rising and falling from shallow, laboured breaths. You felt Lars’ large paw of a hand rub at your thighs, comforting you after your intense climax. 

You shifted so you could look at Lars. He blinked while licking your wetness from his fingers with a content, blissed-out smile on his face. He stood to go to the kitchen, returning with a glass of water for you. Your gaze fell on the large wet patch that had formed on the groin of Lars’ grey trousers as you reached for the glass of water. 

Lars sat next to you on his bed, watching you sip at your water. His hands were clasped in his lap, his dark blonde hair sticking in every direction as he smiled tenderly at you. 

“Thank you, Lars,...” You whispered, passing him the half-empty glass for him to take a sip. 

Lars gave a meek shrug, his blinking gaze flickering between your face and your new necklace. His face was still flushed and shiny from eating you out. 

Lars hesitated to take a sip, not wanting to rinse the taste of you from his tongue, before murmuring, 

“Anything for you, my angel.”

[the end!]

‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

“Oh, c’mon, Grace! It’ll be fun, I promise!”

You exclaimed as you tugged at the sleeve of Ryland’s jumpsuit playfully as a desperate attempt to get the scientist to take a break from the lab.

For what felt like days, you had been trying to convince Ryland to sing some karaoke with you in the projection room. Rocky was confused as to what you meant by ‘karaoke’, but he was supportive nonetheless. It was only Ryland who needed convincing.

“Please, (Y/N), just gimme five more minutes, I’ve almost got it--”

“Grace need break. Grace listen to (Y/N).”

The spider-like alien bumped Ryland’s leg with his xenonite hamster ball. Ryland’s large hands covered his face as he let out an annoyed groan.

“See? It’s two against one.”

You stood next to Ryland, hands on your hips, and Rocky attempted to mimic your assertive pose from inside his xenonite hamster ball. Ryland's shoulders slouched dramatically, and he let out a cartoonish sigh.

“Jeez, okay, okay! Fine! Lead the way, (Y/N).”

Ryland follows closely behind you, letting out a few sarcastic huffs, talking about how he was so close to finishing what he was doing anyway, but you weren’t really paying attention. All three of you clambered up into the ‘Don’t Go Crazy’ room, and you programmed the surrounding screens for karaoke.

You scrolled through the options for songs, humming and hawing over which one to sing. Rocky chirped behind you as he saddled up to Ryland to watch, and suddenly an idea for a song popped into your head. It was one of your favourites from back home.

Gripping the microphone with both hands, you positioned yourself in front of your audience of two and began tapping your foot to the first few notes of “Maybe I’m Amazed” by Paul McCartney.

You nervously averted your gaze from Ryland’s and instead focused on the words on the screen all around you. Not because you didn’t know the words; you knew this song very well, as it was one of your favourites from Earth.

Mostly (well, entirely) because you couldn't handle how intently Ryland was staring at you with his big gorgeous blue eyes. Even with the reflection of the karaoke sequence on his lenses, you could still feel his piercing gaze on you, and you could feel your cheeks flush from mild embarrassment.

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞.

“Maybe I’m amazed at the way you love me all the time

Maybe I’m afraid of the way I love you

Maybe I'm amazed at the way you pulled me out of time

Hung me on a line

Maybe I'm amazed at the way I really need you

Maybe I'm a man

Maybe I'm a lonely man who's in the middle of something

That he doesn't really understand

Maybe I'm a man

Maybe you're the only woman who could ever help me

Baby, won't you help me to understand?”

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞.

You belted the lyrics with all the courage you could muster. You’d have to admit, it's much harder doing karaoke when you're completely sober. If only Ryland hadn't drunk Ilyukhina’s entire supply of vodka before you woke up from your chemical-induced coma.

You found yourself side-stepping to the beat, bopping and moving to the song without any care. Slowly but surely, your nerves were settling, and you were distracted by the music.

Rocky was busy boogying away in his xenonite ball to the music while Ryland sat with his legs extended and crossed at the ankles, his body leaned back casually, all while his eyes followed your every dance move.

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞.

“Maybe I'm amazed at the way you're with me all the time

Maybe I'm afraid of the way I leave you

Maybe I'm amazed at the way you help me sing my song

You right me when I'm wrong

Maybe I'm amazed at the way I really need you.”

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞.

With one hand on the microphone, your free hand extended and reached for Ryland’s.

Ryland’s large hand gripped yours, and you pulled him up and onto his feet, and guided him to dance with you. It was a clumsy dance, holding onto each other with one hand as you both spun around like lunatics.

Ryland moved closer to you, his eyes locked onto your beaming face, and you shoved the microphone between you and the handsome scientist. Now, you were both shouting the lyrics into the microphone as Rocky shuffled excitedly within the confines of his xenonite ball.

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞.

“Yeah, baby, I'm a man

Baby, I'm a lonely man who's in the middle of something

That he doesn't really understand

Oh, baby, I'm a man

Maybe you're the only woman who could ever help me

So baby, won't you help me to understand?”

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞.

Your eyes were locked with Ryland’s as you sang to each other, as if you two were the only ones in the room. Ryland’s large hand was covering your own as you both held the microphone, inches away from both of your faces. You could feel your heartbeat thudding away in your chest, and your gaze couldn’t help but gravitate toward his kissable lips. Little did you know that Ryland’s attention was no longer on the lyrics, but on your lips as well.

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞.

“Yeah, baby I'm amazed

Yeah, baby I'm amazed

Yeah, baby I'm amazed

I'm amazed

With you!”

˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞.

“Amaze, amaze, amaze!” Rocky chirped excitedly.

Ryland’s fingers unravelled from the microphone as if he had been burned by your touch. He looked visibly nervous as he moved away from you, pushing his glasses back up and stuffing his hands into his pockets. You tried not to notice, but you felt a dull pang in your chest at the sight of Ryland recoiling from your touch.

To distract yourself from Ryland and his sudden change in demeanour, you offered up the karaoke microphone to Rocky as a joke.

“You wanna give it a try, bud?”

Rocky stumbled around inside his xenonite hamster ball with enthusiasm. Ryland couldn’t help but laugh at the proposition of his alien friend singing karaoke, but he still looked a bit anxious.

“Hey, Rocky. Could you excuse us for a sec?”

The words fell out of Ryland’s mouth, and even he looked surprised that he said that. His large hand was now hovering over your lower back, trying to guide you out of the ‘Don’t Go Crazy’ room before you or Rocky could protest.

You gave Ryland a confused look, but followed his guidance to the dormitory without hesitation.

‘This must be super important,’ you thought to yourself as you entered the ship’s sleeping quarters with the scientist.

Ryland looked anxious; his cheeks were flushed as he paced the (short) length of the sleeping quarters, hands clasped behind his back like he was deep in thought.

“Everything okay, Grace?”

You questioned with furrowed brows. Your palms were beginning to sweat. What if he had bad news? Was it about the mission? Was it about Rocky?

“Y-yeah, yeah! D-do-don’t worry! I, um… I just wanted to say, uh…”

Ryland whispered.

“Is it something about Rocky? Did something happen?”

“No, no! Just, uh, keep your voice down, (Y/N). I know he can hear through walls, er--”

“Just tell me, already!” You whisper-yelled.

Ryland had almost a defeated expression written across his face. His posture was slouched, and he couldn’t meet your gaze.

“Alright, uh… I’m not sure how you'll feel about this, but umm…”

You stood there, anticipating the worst news of your life. Even worse than being forced to go on this suicide mission to save Earth.

“IthinkIhavefeelingsforyou-!”

The words came out of Ryland like a bullet train. Too fast to understand at first, but the realization hit you hard, nonetheless.

“Y-you… think…?”

“No! No. No. I mean yes. I mean-- I know.”

“Oh!”

Your mouth made an ‘O’ shape, matching your wide, surprised eyes. You couldn’t look at Ryland's face, so your eyes fell to the floor.

Honestly, you had no idea. You’ve always been a bit clueless, after all. So many thoughts began rushing through your brain; how long has he had feelings for you? Did it start before you were forced onto the ship? Was it when you were still on Earth, working together under Stratt’s direction? Your memory was still a bit fuzzy.

Ryland took your shock as a bad sign. His whole demeanor deflated further and he looked like he was ready to collapse. He had one arm outstretched, leaning against the wall. He averted his gaze from you.

“I-I’m sorry, (Y/N). I shouldn't have said anything. I probably just ruined this whole--”

You cut him off.

“The feeling’s mutual.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and winced at your choice of words. Nonchalance was not your go-to usually, but you were kind of at a loss for words right now.

“Really?! You’re fudging kidding me!”

Ryland had stopped whispering altogether. He moved closer to you, but was still worried he’d scare you off, so he stopped himself from reaching out for you.

You noticed his hesitation, and grabbed his hand, holding it against your chest. You don’t know what possessed you to do that, but it felt right in the moment.

“I know, um… my memory isn’t all that great anymore but… when I woke up on this ship, the first thing I remembered was my feelings for you. It was really weird at first, and I felt a little insane. But as time went on, things started to… get more clear for me.”

Ryland confessed. Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes. He spread his palm over your chest to feel your heartbeat. It felt like your heart was about to jump out of your chest. You felt a warm, tingling feeling all over.

“Grace, I…”

You paused, feeling your breath catch in your throat.

You could feel the warm, tickling sensation of tears forming in your eyes. Ryland’s confession was… beautiful. You felt like you were floating, despite the zero gravity being switched off on the ship.

“Can I kiss you?”

You gave a quick nod at the scientist’s polite request, and leaned in to kiss him. Your lips brushed against his for a moment, feeling the roughness of his stubble against your skin, before crashing into each other.

Your hands found their way to the nape of Ryland’s neck, fingers raking through his messy blond hair. Ryland’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you against him hungrily.

You’re the first to pull away to take a much-needed breath, and Ryland’s eyes wash over your face, trying to read your expression. He looked almost sheepish, a bit embarrassed about how ravenously he kissed you.

“Sorry, I’ve been waiting to do that for a while.”

You slap Ryland’s toned shoulder playfully, chuckling.

“You’re telling me all I had to do was sing some bad karaoke for you to finally confess your feelings for me?”

You exclaim, half-joking. Ryland gave you a meek shrug, his hands still on your waist, his thumbs rubbing in slow circles.

“It wasn’t all that bad, I promise.”

A loud chirp from Rocky could be heard outside the dormitory.

"Grace and (Y/N) mates question."

‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

[the end!]

Your knuckles made light contact with the glass pane of Holland’s bedroom window.

tink, tink, tink.

You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes still adjusting to the dark as you scanned the cul-de-sac for any movement.

Suddenly, Holland’s handsome (albeit concerned) face appeared behind the glass, and he shakily pushed the window pane to the side, creating a gap to pull you through.

You hoisted yourself up onto the windowsill, definitely lacking grace, as Holland’s large hands gripped your waist and pulled you inside his bedroom.

“What the hell are you doing here? At-at this time of night?” Holland questioned, his hands resting low on his hips as he stood above you. His voice was in its usual high-pitch.

You couldn't help but grin at the sight of Holland looming above you, and you brushed off your clothes from where you knelt on his shag carpet.

“Oh, c'mon. Don’t scold me like I’m some kid, Holland.”

Holland scoffed at your sarcastic response, and he shook his head disapprovingly as he began pacing the length of his shabby bedroom.

“I don’t know what kind of self-respecting adult knocks on another adult’s window and sneaks in. I thought only kids did that.”

You rolled your eyes at the detective’s lame words.

“You fell through a glass floor at that party, like, two weeks ago.”

“How the fuck is that relevant right now? Plus, that shit definitely wasn’t up to code--”

Defiantly, you rise from the floor, your chin tilted upwards so as to meet the tall man’s blue eyes with your own.

“Don’t get all high-and-mighty with me, Holland. And I like the conscious choice to not refer to yourself as another self-respecting adult. Fitting.”

Holland sputtered, his brain almost short-circuiting at your response. You made his head spin. In a good way, you’d hope.

“You still haven't answered my fuckin’ question,” Holland spat. His eyes narrowed at you. You looked like you were dressed to go out tonight. You looked really good.

“Just wanted to say hi.” You shrugged, being too casual now. Holland was starting to see red.

“Just wanted to say hi?! You could’ve called, instead of just doing what you did.” Holland pointed at his bedroom window, to your hiding spot in his bushes.

“Where’s the fun in that? Plus, I didn’t wanna wake Holly up by calling this late.”

Holland gestured with his hands, dismissing your words.

“Wouldn’t have mattered, anyways. She’s at Janet’s tonight.”

“Then what's the fuckin’ problem, Holland?”

You stood there, arms out and palms turned towards the detective. Your eyebrows were furrowed in frustration. Holland always knew how to get you riled up.

You two often argued like this; it was dramatic, cartoonish, and wildly stupid. But the arguments never persisted for long, and the emotions never stayed high. You two just tended to bicker, and it drove Holly and Healy nuts.

Holland paused, his lips pressed together in a tight line. Then, he gave a lazy shrug.

“Okay, I’ll be honest… you scared me when you knocked on the glass. I thought you were someone coming to kill me.” Holland spoke with nonchalance, his tone had lowered a pitch.

You couldn't help but let out a half-stifled laugh, shocked at Holland’s words. Your hands dropped to your sides, lowering your defense.

“Oh, fuckin’-- c’mon, Holland. You really think some dude who’s gonna break in and kill you would knock beforehand?”

“Some hitmen are really well-mannered, actually.”

You scoffed at the detective.

“Whatever. I was gonna ask if you wanted to go out tonight, but since you're so lame, nevermi--”

“No, no! No. I mean, yeah. Yeah, I’ll go out tonight.”

You smirk, knowing the private detective could never say no to a night out on the town. Plus, it had been a while since just you two hung out together.

You always seemed to get dragged along on Holland and Healy's side quests, using you as a distraction to catch the perp, or just to pick your brain about a case they couldn't crack.

But tonight, it was just you two.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

You gave Holland a few minutes alone to get ready for the fun night ahead. You leaned against his kitchen counter, eyes washing over the souvenir magnets and polaroids scattered across the refrigerator.

Holly and Holland smiling at the camera at the Hollywood sign, or Holly and her school friends at the bowling alley. There was even a polaroid of you and Holland that Holly took, when you had a beach day together. The polaroid was half-tucked behind a photograph of Holland and his late wife, holding Holly as a baby.

Your eyes darted back to a brightly-coloured Disneyland magnet, silently chuckling to yourself, knowing that Holland’s never even taken Holly to Disneyland.

You absentmindedly sipped at a glass of wine that you took the liberty of opening, knowing that Holland never really drank wine, he just kept a bottle ‘in case of emergencies’. Really, it was your bottle of wine that kept around, just for you.

You glanced at the clock on the stove, and groaned loudly. He'd been getting ready for over 20 minutes, now.

“Come on, Holland! We’re not gonna meet the fuckin’ Queen of England tonight, let’s GO!” You shout before tipping back your wine glass and draining it in half a second.

You used the back of your hand to wipe your mouth clean, and your eyes fell on the tall figure exiting the master bedroom.

Holland was dressed in his dark cobalt blue dress suit (arguably, your favourite suit of his), with a unwrinkled (for once), crisp white button up underneath and donned with a yellow-patterned tie. His hair was pushed back, with that signature dirty-blond strand fallen against his forehead.

Damn, he looked good. And he knew it.

A freshly-lit cigarette hung loosely from his lips as he fixed his cuff links while he walked towards you. You must’ve been slack-jawed at the sight of the handsome detective, because Holland was smirking at you.

“That’s all I gotta do to shut you up? Put on a freshly dry-cleaned suit?” Holland remarked slyly, tapping the ash from his cigarette into an ashtray. He grabbed the almost-empty wine bottle off the counter and took the final swig, smacking his lips at the bitter taste.

“Y’know, for a guy like yourself, you clean up well.” Your tone was laced with sarcasm. Holland raised his eyebrows in scrutiny.

“A guy like myself? ‘Fuck that’s ‘spose to mean?”

“You know what I mean, Holland. Catch!”

You toss him the keys to his car. After all, he was more sober than you right now. For once.

Holland shook his head in utter disbelief at you.

“You invite me out, and you don't even drive?” He half-teased, guiding you both to the front door to leave.

Holland opened the passenger door for you, and you felt his large hand on the small of your back before you climbed inside. You were already a little wine-drunk, so you giggled, and Holland’s heart started beating faster in his chest at the angelic sound. Holland mentally scolded himself for his involuntary bodily reaction.

The drive downtown was filled with the usual bickering, broken up by belly laughs.

Finally, Holland pulled the car up along the curb, parking in front of the disco club dubbed ‘The Odyssey’.

He hopped out of the car and opened your car door for you, and you smiled dumbly.

“What’s with the gentleman-act all of a sudden?” You questioned, eyebrows raised.

Holland pretended to look offended, scoffing at your remark.

“I’m always a gentleman, I don’t know what you're talking about,” He deflected as you both made your way inside the nightclub. Not without Holland getting into a bit of trouble with the bouncer, first.

Once you two were inside, it was pretty smooth sailing. You both made a bee-line for the bar, ordering drinks faster than you could say ‘The Nice Guys’.

“Fuck me, it costs a goddamn arm and a leg just to order a Rusty Nail. All it is is fuckin’ whiskey.” Holland muttered under his breath, leaning against the bar counter.

You toss back your head to let out a high-pitched fake laugh, playfully slapping the shoulder of the gentleman standing next to you at the bar. This caused Holland to do a double take, and furrowed his brow in frustration. He couldn't believe the audacity; you flirting with another guy when this was supposed to be your night out together!

The bartender handed you a cocktail, and suddenly you snuck away from the stranger, hunching behind Holland to hide yourself.

“What the hell was that all about?!” Holland barked at you. You snickered.

“A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, Holland, Christ.” You muttered as you sipped at your free cocktail. There was no way in hell you could afford to buy your own drinks tonight.

Holland relaxed a bit, mentally kicking himself for his reaction. ‘Of course,’ he thought to himself, ‘she was just using him to get a free drink. She probably thinks you can't afford to buy her one, you fuckin’ loser!’

“Don’t worry, I’ll work my magic later and get you a free drink, too. But it’s gotta be fruity-- no guy is gonna buy a chick some scotch.” You teased, leaning closer to Holland now that the other guy had disappeared into the crowded dance floor.

The smell of Holland’s cologne was intoxicating; more than the actual cocktail you were sipping on. Holland’s eyes were on you, and he was painfully trying to maintain respectful eye contact and not check you out under the disco lights. But he couldn’t help it; his eyes washed over your body anyway, and he could feel his breath hitch in his throat.

You were both silent for a moment, tense from the sudden realization of the proximity of your bodies. It was busy in the nightclub; you could blame it on that. But you two suddenly felt this undeniable magnetism between you, and you both tried to distract yourself with the drinks in your hands.

But soon, the glasses were empty, and you two couldn't distract yourselves from each other any longer.

“Do you… wanna step outside for a second?” Holland gestured towards the exit, reaching for his carton of cigarettes in his breast pocket.

You nodded, feeling almost dizzy from the disco lights, alcohol, and closeness to Holland. Maybe some fresh air would do you some good.

Trailing close behind Holland, you made your way outside, the hairs on your arms prickling at the cool sensation of the night breeze. You absentmindedly rubbed at your arms to warm yourself up, and Holland noticed while he lit his cigarette.

He shrugged off his suit jacket and tossed it over your shoulders before you could protest. You gave him a shy 'thanks’, grasping the cobalt blue jacket and wrapping it around your frame.

Holland’s gaze washed over you for a moment, and he nervously thumbed at his cigarette as he exhaled, the smoke curling up towards the starry night sky.

“Sorry for shouting at you like that,” the words burst out of Holland's mouth, surprising you both.

You shrugged, confused. You two were always shouting at each other, it was your way of communicating.

Holland’s eyes darted around anxiously.

“Back there, with the other guy. I, uh, didn’t realize you were just doing that to get a free drink.”

Holland looked almost deflated. You glanced at the ground for a moment, replaying the scene in your mind again before speaking.

“Oh, hah. Yeah. That’s okay, I should’ve maybe mentioned I was going to do that--”

“No, no. You don’t need to. It’s not like I own you,” The words rushed out of Holland’s mouth like Niagara falls. He felt so stupid. Why would he say that?

Your eyes flickered up to meet Holland’s. You reached for the cigarette that hung between his lips, taking Holland by surprise. You took a quick pull, letting the smoke tickle and burn at your throat before exhaling.

Holland leaned against the brick wall of the alleyway, watching you through half-lidded eyes. His hands were trembling, so he stuffed them into the pockets of his dress pants as you took another pull of his cigarette.

“Holland, how long have we known each other?”

Your question was sudden. The words just fell out of you. But it was a genuine question.

Holland took a beat, reflecting on the time you two have spent together.

“‘Couple years, I ‘spose.”

“And we’ve never even kissed.” You sounded almost disappointed, before taking another hard pull of the cigarette, making the cherry flicker brightly. The cigarette was almost spent.

Holland looked at you, astonished. He had no clue that had even crossed your mind before. But it had definitely crossed his, many times.

Before Holland could speak, you continued.

“I guess we’re just strictly friends, huh? I never got any inclination that you’ve ever found me attractive.” You dropped the cigarette and used the toe of your shoe to grind it into the cement.

Before you could look up from the sidewalk, Holland’s large hands were cupping your jaw, pulling your face closer to his. Holland’s slightly chapped lips met your own, and he let out a soft whine as your hands found purchase in his blond locks.

Your bodies were flush against one another as he stepped forward to deepen the kiss. You could feel the coolness of the brick wall through his suit jacket as your back pressed against it. His tongue swiped at your bottom lip, begging for permission to explore your mouth. Your lips parted in agreement, letting out a low moan.

Holland took a step back, his breathing heavy and erratic as his eyes searched yours. Your lips and cheeks were flushed from the passionate kiss, and Holland thought you looked absolutely stunning washed in moonlight.

“Either you’re stupid for not seeing it, or maybe I’m stupid for not kissing you earlier.” Holland’s voice was low and breathless.

You burst into a fit of laughter, before collecting yourself and responding,

“Holland, I think we’re both pretty stupid.”

[the end! - maybe a part 2 soon?]