v e e

Tim Wright was a good man.

Say those words where he’s there to hear them, and he’ll refute you before you can even finish the sentence.

In his mind, there wasn't a single thing about him that could be classified as anything other than rotten. His temper, his lack of a desire to make close relationships, the scars on his knuckles and the blood that stained his palms.

Even before he had been picked up and dragged into a life that forced brutality out of him, he still wouldn’t have classified himself as ‘good’. Lacklustre at best.

Solitary. Closed off. Always choosing sarcasm over voicing his feelings in a collected, healthy manner.

Tim Wright wasn't a good man, from his own perspective. But to you? He was nothing short of perfect. You would’ve never fallen for him if he was half as rotten as he liked to believe he was.

Romance had been the last thing on your mind when you had found yourself caught in the untangleable web that was the proxy lifestyle. Hell, you hadn’t even viewed it as an option - too busy trying to keep your mind from splitting in half completely the first time you had witnessed a death with your own two eyes. Being a proxy meant sacrificing a part of yourself, in favour of staying on the good side of an entity you could never even dream to comprehend.

You had to sacrifice your humanity - feelings included.

Or, so you thought.

Your feelings for Tim had crept up slow. None of it was fast or intense, it was something that festered. Something that nestled deep inside you with the first look he gave you, only to grow more and more with each passing day. Taking up more space in your heart with every word he spoke, and every cigarette he chose to share with you.

With you.

You’re not quite sure what you had done specifically to wriggle your way into his personal bubble, but it happened just as natural as everything else with him. Nights spent together on the porch of the proxies’ shared cabin, multiple feet between the two of you with silence stretching through the air around you. That, turned into him inching closer - closer - until he was sat on the step right next to you.

The first cigarette he had extended out towards you was the moment you had realized it. The spark that jumped from his fingers to yours when he brushed against you for just a second. The way the air had gone thick - the sound of crickets and owls going mute as your eyes flitted up to meet his.

Tim had felt the exact way you had. There was no time for romance, in a place like this. No room for it, in a life already stocked to the brim with pain and misery.

He was a rational man. He knew that even attempting it would lead to nothing but more anguish.

All of that fizzled out just as quick as the tobacco you burned.

One look was all it took for all of his rationality - all of his logic - to go straight out the window. Wind in your hair, moonlight bouncing off of your skin, lips curled around the filter of his cigarette - staining the filter with lipgloss that he’d taste when he took it back from you.

Reeling him in, just as he had you.

A symbiotic relationship that neither party wanted to accept.

But you really can’t expect much from two people kept in close proximity to one another, trying in earnest to bite back the feeling brewing in their guts and crawling up their throats.

Tim is more stubborn than you. A few bottles of beer was all it had taken to remedy that little fact.

One night alone in the living room with him, civil conversation quickly turning into tension so thick it wove a noose around your neck. Creeping in closer, eyes scanning across him with an appreciation you hadn’t allowed yourself beforehand.

The curve of his jaw, the way his throat bobbed when he took another swig from his drink. The stubble trickling down his neck. The veins in his hands as he curled his fingers around the neck of the bottle.

Closer; the scent of him. Tobacco and musky cologne, bordered by the twinge of the malt liquor staining his breath. You had wondered to yourself if he tasted just good as he smelled.

You found that out later that night, when the hormones lingering in the air between the two of you became too much to bear.

You remembered how his thumb had traced along your jaw before he tugged you in close. How his deep brown eyes flicked down towards your lips for a few seconds. How he paused - debating it, weighing the pros and cons.

You remembered how he had thrown it all to the wind the moment your gaze locked with his. The hitch of his breath, the way his grip had tightened just minutely before he had pulled you in to close the last few inches of gap.

You remembered the taste of beer on his tongue.

You remembered how he had fucked you. Slow and tender, lips pressing kisses against your neck as his palms smoothed over every inch of skin he could find. A stark contrast to how he portrayed himself - reserved and cold versus soft and sweet.

A good man. Not letting the violence that followed him around bleed into the aspects of his life that mattered most.

You knew that he could, if he wanted to. You had seen him, witnessed it yourself how easily he could incapacitate a target much larger than you. How he could stop someone’s breathing before they could even realize what had happened.

He’d never show that side to you. Even when the hookups turned more frequent. Even when you finally put a label on it all.

Maybe that was why you started craving that he would.

But Tim? He was just too good of a man.

It was like he was trying to preserve you - the one good thing in his life. He couldn’t bear the idea of ruining that, of scaring you off. He couldn’t bear the thought of accidentally hurting you.

He had thought about it, when you were laid out so pretty beneath him - all soft and vulnerable. So fragile. It would be so laughably easy to just reach out and…

No. That wasn't him. Or maybe, he just didn’t want it to be.

(Or, he just didn’t think you’d be able to handle it.)

Whatever the reason was, you found yourself wishing that just once he'd just let himself sink into it. Cut the restraints. Let himself feel everything - nothing held back.

You knew mostly everything about him. His humour, his personality, what he liked and didn’t like. You wanted to know the rest. His strength. The violence that simmered in his veins. That untapped side of himself that he’d never let you reach.

You poke and prod over time, but Tim was either ignorant or ignoring you - because every time you guided his hand to your throat he only let it linger for a couple seconds before it was slipping away again. Every time you begged for more, for him to give it to you harder, he just barely scratched the itch. Always holding himself back, like he was scared of who he’d become if he let himself concede to your wishes for once.

It wasn’t that he was a bad lay - far from it, in fact. It was just that you knew that he could give you more.

You could always see it, no matter how many times he denied it. The way his eyes darkened. How his fingers twitched against your hips like he was just dying to sink them deeper into your flesh. To leave bruises. Draw blood. Really, really make you scream.

You knew that he wanted it, maybe more than you even did - and that little piece of knowledge kept the flame of your desire burning.

It grew hotter with each day. With each cigarette shared. With each soft touch of his hands against your skin. With every lowly murmured breath of your name on his lips.

It’s not long until you stop being patient. Not long until you stop the subtlety, and just downright ask for it.

“Tim…” It’s late at night, the sound of nocturnal wildlife just barely audible through the slightly cracked window in Tim’s bedroom. The air outside is cold, but his sheets are warm. So are his hands, which lay splayed against your abdomen - his thumbs smoothing soft circles against your hipbones. So are his lips, and his breath, his mouth leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down the column of your neck. You can feel his stubble scratch at your skin, a soothing abrasiveness that sends a shiver down your spine.

Tim was always so warm. His presence engulfing you in heat like a crackling campfire, especially like this - when you were laid right beneath the source of it all.

His hands skirt upwards, rough and calloused as they creep over the grooves of your rib cage. Each touch felt deliberate - practiced - like it always did. You feel a soft hum rumble out of his chest before he lifts his head out of the crook of your neck - deep brown eyes darkened by the haze of desire as he gazes down at you.

“Hm?” He raises an eyebrow, his fingers trailing a path along the underside of your breasts - featherlight, but still enough to raise goosebumps on the back of your neck. “What is it?”

You always find it hard to speak when you’re drowning in eye contact with him, and right now is no different. Your heart stutters when his gaze trails up the line of your neck, before lingering on your lips. It catches in your throat when his eyes finally flick up to meet yours. Your find yourself thinking that Tim looks best like this - bathed in the warm, low lighting of his room, gazing down at you.

His eyes swam with something you were quite familiar with. That darkness that flickered around the edge of his irises. Those deep seeded feelings he always kept shackled - trapped in a cage you could never reach them.

But… You could try.

“You don’t have to be so gentle with me all the time, you know.” You murmur, shifting a little to lean more into his touch. “You always act like you’re scared you’re going to break me.” You pair the words with a shaky little smile, hoping that it makes you look less awkward than you actually feel. You hadn’t ever been so bold about it, more so keen to giving hints that he would brush off every single time.

To actually say it feels like a sin, especially when his eyes pin you to the sheets like a butterfly against a board.

There's a beat, then another. A few moments where nothing but the sound of your breathing, and the electric fan whirring in the corner meet your ears. Then, he speaks - low and careful, like he had practiced these lines for if you had ever asked that.

“I could never hurt you, sweetheart.” He murmurs softly as his hand drags upwards, sliding up your chest to cup your cheek instead. His thumb smoothes over your cheekbone, soft and reverent, so tender it makes your chest ache. “Don’t ask that of me.”

And god is it difficult to argue, with words like spun silk being spoken right down at you. Tim’s voice always buckled you, low and smooth - like it was finetuned to rise goosebumps on your skin with just a few words. When he paired that with a sweet little pet name? It was absolutely deadly. He knew that just as well as you did. Sometimes he would take advantage of that fact.

Right now, was one of those times. You knew what he was doing, though his words were sweet enough to give you a toothache. He was trying to get you to drop it. To shut you up, without actually having to ask you to do so.

Any other time it would’ve worked, but not right now. Not today.

“You can, though.” You breathe back to him, your cheek warming under his touch. “I’ve seen it, you know. You’re not all soft like this all the time.” That might’ve been a deep cut, definitely wasn't something that you should’ve actually brought up… But you just couldn’t help yourself.

You had seen it. Had watched him exhibit the strength - the brutality - he refused to show around you. Every single time, it made your blood hot. After every mission, it was a common scenario for you to be tugging at Tim’s jacket before he even got inside the cabin.

It was something that you marvelled over, got wet over. And yet Tim always held it just out of your reach.

His reaction is pretty much what you had expected.

“That’s not me, though.” He tells you, his voice low and cautious. “That’s… That’s something else. You understand that, don’t you?”

You did. You had this conversation with Tim multiple times before, actually. The person he was when blood stained his hands was someone that he completely separated himself from. As if blaming all of his crimes on someone else would lessen the weight on his chest on a day to day basis.

You knew it wasn’t that simple, there were more nuances and details that Tim just refused to share with you - but the fact of the matter was this; regardless of if he wanted to accept it or not, that darker side was a part of him. It lived in him, even now, just waited to be awakened once more when it was called upon.

“It’s you, Tim.” You murmur lowly, slowly lifting your hand to rest it against his chest - right over his beating heart. It’s frantic, betraying just how composed he was trying to portray himself. “It’s in here. It always is. You just like to ignore it.”

He twitches, his jaw tensing as his eyes track the movement of your hand. You feel his heartrate kick up a few more notches.

“I don’t like ignoring it.” He admits after a few moments, letting out a shuddering breath before his eyes flutter closed. Those five words are more than you’ve ever gotten out of him on the matter. “I just don’t want to… Subject you to it.”

There it is. That guilt that always festered within him. That fear, that if he truly gave in like you were telling him to, it would ruin everything he had built with you up until now.

And here you were, trying to convince him that the results would be the direct opposite.

“But I want you to.” You whisper the words out, but they sound so loud in the silence of his bedroom. “I’m asking you to. I wouldn’t be this persistent if I wasn’t serious.”

He knew that was true. Whenever you really, truly wanted something, it was usually in the palm of your hands by the end of the day. You had a certain knack for worming your way through life, collecting the objects of your desire. He had been withholding this from you for weeks now. No wonder you had grown so impatient.

“I know that.” Tim breathes out roughly as his eyes flutter back open, immediately locking back on you. On your face, so open and trusting. Was it really his right to exploit that? “I just… I don’t think you really understand what you’re getting into.” His hand slips back, ghosting over your jaw before his fingers thread into your hair - his palm cupping the back of your head. “It’s one thing to watch me on the field, but like this? To you?” He exhales softly, the breath coming out rough, like he’s fighting with himself. “I just don’t want you to look at me differently.”

“I wouldn’t.” Your response is immediately, so is the way your fingers curl into the front of his shirt. “I’m asking for it.” You reiterate that point, hoping that it sinks in deeper this time. “Besides, if you do anything I don’t like, you know I’d say something.”

That seems to ease something within him, that little bit of tension leeching out of his veins.

“I know.” He breathes back to you, his eyes tracing over your face as his hand slips forwards again. Fingers dancing along your jaw like they’re memorizing the shape of you beneath him. “You would, wouldn’t you? You’d tell me if I go too far?”

And that sounds more like surrender than any answer you’ve ever gotten from him.

“‘Course I would.” You murmur gently, holding his gaze as your hand starts to slide down lower - tracing along the contours of his chest as it travels down his abdomen. Feeling the skin that lay beneath the fabric. “I just want to know you, Tim. Inside and out.”

And how could he ever argue with that? When you’re looking up at him so sweetly while you say it? Caressing him like he’s someone to be cherished?

His hand moves again, grazing over your neck before it finally settles around your throat. His hands were much larger than yours, you had always known this, but really feeling how his touch dwarfed you? How his fingers curled around the circumference of your neck like it was nothing? You just can’t help the shudder that wracks your body, and of course, Tim notices it.

You watch in real time as that dark fog starts to creep over his warm brown eyes.

“You do, don’t you?” He asks softly, his fingers pressing down lightly on either side of your throat. It’s nothing major, not yet, just a soft pressure that makes his presence impossible to ignore. It makes your hips twitch like someone desperate, your knees knocking against his hips as you try to bring them together.

God, and he had barely even done anything. Had it really always been this easy after all? “This is… Christ, you really have been waiting for this, haven't you?”

You nod almost immediately, because trying to act coy wasn't the course of action right now. Whatever he was offering, whatever he had been fantasizing about - you wanted it. If slapping him in the face with that fact was how you had to go about it, then so be it. You knew the rewards would be so sweet to reap. “You said not to be gentle,” He mutters as his fingers twitch against your pulse point. “What does that even mean to you?”

That answer, is an easy one.

“It means to do whatever you want.” You clarify gently, lifting your body off the mattress just a little - just enough to make his grip press into you a little more firmly. “I can take it, Tim. I swear.”

You watch him fight with himself. Feel his fingers tighten around your throat just minutely, before they relax once more. He was fighting tooth and nail not to give in, to not be swayed by you and those pretty eyes of yours.

But that didn’t work last time he tried to resist you, now did it?

“God, you’re impossible.” And then his grip is tightening. Not enough to cut off your air supply, just enough to really make you feel it. Pressed right up against your pulse that throbbed frantically under his fingertips. Just a fraction of his strength, you knew it was, but it already felt so good already. You could only imagine it when he really gave in. “This what you want from me? Really?”

“Don’t act like you don’t want it too.” Your voice comes out soft, just a tad strained as the force of his grip makes your body buzz. “I know you, remember? I can see it in your eyes.”

That seems to set something within him off. He had always tried to keep that part of him smothered around you, and had honestly thought he had done a good job at that task. You though, were acknowledging it. Encouraging it. Coaxing it out.

He was weak for you, you knew that. And Tim? Well, he had grown tired of fighting that fact a long time ago.

“Maybe I do.” He exhales softly as he tightens his grip a smidgen more. This time around, he can see the effects of it. Your eyes widen just a little in surprise, your body tensing up beneath him as his palm presses against your windpipe. Still able to breathe, but it’s harder now. He would’ve pulled away in a second if he hadn’t noticed the flicker of excitement in your irises. “I was just trying to be nice, you know? Wanted to treat you how you deserve.”

Tim leans down lower, the tip of his nose brushing against yours before he breathes out his next words. “I always thought this world was too harsh for you. Didn’t want to be a contributing factor in that.”

“You aren’t.” You gasp out, eyes fluttering as that full pressure in your skull starts turning into something more insistent. The dizziness hits like a truck. It’s not something that eases you into it, it finds you at your most vulnerable and sinks its teeth in deep. “You-Youre a fucking miracle in a place like this.”

Tim can see it, how your eyes start to go a little foggy. Any other night he would’ve pulled away - wouldn’t have even let it get this far - but tonight he knows you want to be pushed. He can’t just keep denying you forever.

He squeezes. Tight enough to steal the air from you completely. Your pulse flutters under his thumb - frantic, panicked. But your eyes? Tim doesn’t think he’s even seen you more blissed out.

Your eyes, though wide from shock, are foggy and unfocused under drooping lids. Your lips are parted in a silent gasp, the faintest of smiles twitching at the corners of your lips.

You hadn’t been lying. This is what you had really wanted.

And Tim was a good man, so who was he to deny this kind of pleasure from the woman he loved most?

“You really think so, huh?” Tim breathes, the words fanning over your lips. “You really think I’m a good guy. You really put faith in me.”

His grip loosens, just for a few moments, letting you steal in a few ragged breaths of air before its tightening all over again. It feels like you didn’t get quite enough, barely quelling the wooziness in your veins as your only way of air closes up all over again.

It’s overwhelming, and frankly a little scary. Realizing just how much he had been holding back from you, sprawled on the sheets beneath him like a feast to be devoured. “I’ll let you believe that, if you want. Just know that I think you’re wrong.”

Then, he dips down to close the final few inches of gap. Tim’s lips meet yours as his hand stayed locked around your neck, leaving you lightheaded and breathless as you struggle to properly kiss him back. It’s sloppy as his mouth moves against yours, desperate in a way he’s never shown you before. You could feel how much he needed you in every press of his lips against yours, you could taste the lust on his tongue when it slipped into your mouth.

You’re left grasping at the front of his t-shirt like it was a lifeline, stars dancing behind your eyelids as the lack of oxygen makes your whole brain feel like static. It’s something you couldn’t even dream of describing properly. Tingling on the entire expanse of your skin. An ache in your lungs that felt just as lovely as it did agonizing. The sound of blood rushing in your ears. The vertigo when he tugged you in closer.

It was disorienting in the most addictive way. It was terrifying, just as much as it was gratifying. Here you were, laying your life in the hands of a man who could end it at a moments notice. You just had to trust that he wouldn’t.

That faith? It was the last nail in the coffin that was your desire for him.

You just barely get out a ragged whine that slips from your mouth into his, your lungs having to strain just to get that small sound out. It’s enough to have Tim’s grip relaxing.

You gasp in air greedily, your chest heaving beneath his as the sudden flood of oxygen makes you dizzy all over again. It feels like he’s just brought you back to life. It only makes you tug him in closer. “You alright?” Tim asks softly, gently smoothing his thumb over your racing pulse.

It takes a few moments for you to regain your bearings, waiting for the stars to fade from your vision before you respond.

“Do it again.” You breathe out, and maybe Tim should’ve expected that response. It does stun him for just a moment, his fingers twitching against your neck, before he shakes his head and lets out a fond sigh.

“Yeah, yeah, I figured.” Finally, he releases you, instead choosing to ghost his touch down the length of your abdomen. Hovering over the swell of your breasts for just a moment, giving a gentle squeeze before his hand continues on its way. “I will, alright? Just let me at least get inside you first.”

You sure as hell weren't going to say no to that. So, you lay back and let him as he gently tugs the hem of your shirt off, still breathless when he pulls it off of you completely. Your bra comes off next, because Tim always needed to see you bare. Always needed every single inch of your skin accessible to him.

He lavishes each new patch of skin with wet kisses and warm affection, groaning softly into your bare chest as he nuzzles into the pillowy soft flesh. “You’re perfect, you know that?” He presses the words into your skin as he leaves a path of kisses down your sternum. “Hooked me from the first day I saw you.”

“Didn’t act like it.” You murmur back playfully, tracking the sight of him as his lips moved against your skin near reverently. He acted like the taste of your skin was something orgasmic in itself.

“Yeah, wanna know why?” Tim mutters into your skin, giving one light nip under your breast for good measure before pulling away fully. His hands don’t though, wandering down lower, giving your hips a cheeky little squeeze before his fingers curl under the waistband of the sleep shorts you were wearing. “Because I knew you’d ruin me.”

It’s easy for him to tug the fabric off of you, you lift your hips on instinct. “You had that look in your eyes.” He muses as he tosses your shorts onto the floor. “One look, and I knew I’d be lucky to make it out alive.”

“Says you.” You giggle softly, your hips twitching immediately when he drags his hands down your thighs - bringing your panties with them. The soft scratch of his blunt nails on your outer thighs makes your shoulder bow in minutely.

“Yeah, says me.” Tim huffs, sitting back once you’re fully bare just to look at you. Taking in every dip and curve of your body with rapt attention, his breathing going shallower with each second you took up his line of sight. “You’ve already killed me a million times over.”

“Have I?” You ask softly, the muscles of your stomach twitching under his touch as his fingers trail from your navel down between your thighs. His touch is gentle, yet self assured, but the moan that slips from him the moment he feels just how wet you are already? That was a pure reaction.

“Yeah, you have.” He breathes out shakily, sliding his fingers through your folds before he finds your clit. He wastes no time rolling the swollen nub under the pad of his thumb. The sweet little hiss you let out in response sounds like music to his ears. “Because I let you. If I had to be destroyed by anyone, I’d rather it be you.”

Hearing that as his fingers work against you would’ve sent you to your knees if you had been standing. He was just too skilled in every sense of the word. An expert at making you fall apart with just a few words, or just a few touches. “All this?” He drags a finger through your core, scooping up some your slick just for emphasis. “I’m addicted to it. To you. I used to be fine on my own. Thought it was better.”

His middle finger circles around your entrance gently, a wordless warning before he sinks it into you nice and slow. “But then I met you.” He pumps it into you languidly, curling it slowly, pressing against all the right spots to have you writhing against the sheets from just one digit. “And now I can’t go a single day without you.”

You’re already so ready for him that he quickly realizes he probably doesn’t even need to finger you open. With how easy the second finger slides in next to his first, that fact is solidified. You were aching for him. He could feel your desire throb around him with each press in. “God, you hadn’t been kidding, huh?” He murmurs incredulously, scissoring his fingers open just for the hell of it. Just because he liked feeling your walls stretch out for him. “This really does get you going.”

A few more teasing thrusts of his fingers before he pulls them out, wiping them off on your thigh to smear the slickness against your skin. “You’ve been real insistent today, so how about we keep that energy?”

He strips his own shirt off, tossing it off to the side to join all of your clothes on the floor. Then, his fingers hook under the waistband of the sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He doesn’t hesitate before tugging those off too. Can’t, not when you’re so desperate for it. “Tell me what you want.”

Right now that was an easy task.

“Fuck me, Tim. Please-“ You gasp out. All subtlety is lost, any semblance of restraint thrown to the wind as you feel your own wetness drip down your thighs.

“Ah, c’mon. Say it nicer than that.”

You knew what that meant. Tim had always made a point to never say he fucked you. He made love to you. He worshipped you. And though that was true on every other night, that’s not what tonight was about. Tonight, was about satiating a hunger.

“No, Tim.” You choke out, voice shaky but no less firm. “I want you to fuck me.”

That message is heard loud and clear. The desperation in your voice is like a shot of adrenaline straight into Tim’s brain, and just like that - the shackles are broken. He just can’t hold back anymore, not if he wanted to stay sane - and with you begging for it so sweetly? He'd have to be a much better man to refuse.

“Jesus christ-“ He groans out, hesitating for just a split second before finally stripping off his boxers. Then; he presses in closer. Grips your hips and drags you down the bedsheets to meet him. “See? This is what I’m talking about.” He mutters as he grinds his cock down against your weeping cunt, slow and filthy. “Fuckin’ killing me.”

Then maybe he shouldn’t look so good while you do it.

He takes a moment to just let himself slide against your heat, getting himself nice and dripping with you before he even sunk in. It felt divine. The way you twitched when his cock head nudged against your clit was a lovely bonus.

His soft groans made your blood feel hot, your skin buzzing with anticipation beneath his grip on your hips. You felt restless, nudging your hips back to try and get more of him.

All of that is remedied when he finally sinks in. It’s slow and gentle, just how he always is. Letting you feel every single inch of him, stretching out around him so beautifully. Your cunt just welcomed him in like he belonged there - hot, soaked, and so tight it made him feel dizzy. He'd swear on his life that you got better every single time. “Fuck- That’s it-“ He groans out softly, a shudder wracking his spine as he presses in closer and closer. Savouring every goddamn centimeter of the heat wrapped around him as his hips came to meet yours. “Perfect every time.” He murmurs reverently. “You drive me insane.”

The feeling was mutual. Tim just filled you up so good. Had your toes curling the moment he sheathed himself fully. It felt like he was just made to be there, and quite honestly you were pretty sure he was. No one else could make you feel like this, you knew that as an unequivocal fact. In your opinion, you and him were two halves of a whole - being like this just made you feel so undeniably complete.

His hips grind into yours before he slowly pulls out, a wrinkle forming between his brows as his face scrunches up in pleasure. “Could never say no to you.” He groans out. “No matter what it is, it’s always useless for me to fight.”

“S’just because I want to know you completely.” You choke out, fingers curling into the sheets beside you as he presses back in. Filling up that space he had left empty and aching, soothing the way you just burned for him. “Don’t-Don’t wanna feel like I’m missing out on something.”

Surprisingly, that earns a soft laugh out of Tim.

“FOMO?” He chuckles lowly, rolling his hips into your slow and deep, his chest swelling every time your expression twisted in pleasure. “That’s what this is about? God, you’re something.”

But as he had said before, it’s always useless for him to fight.

Your stomach flips as you feel one of his hands creep upwards again, your thighs trembling around your hips as he keeps that nice steady pace. The ecstasy was already practically seeping out of you and into the bedsheets below, but the excitement of what was to come only made it increase tenfold.

He smoothes up your stomach, glides across your chest before finding its home curled around your waiting throat - head tilted back against the pillows, at a perfect angle to just grab. So, he does. “You were right, by the way.”

A soft squeeze, not enough to cut off your airflow but enough to cut off circulation. Still able to gasp in air, and yet the lightheadedness was already starting to creep back in again. “I wanted to see you like this.” A shaky whine spills from your lips as his hips start to roll in deeper, sharper - a neediness to his actions that you hadn’t before encountered. Combined with the haziness taking over your mind, it felt like heaven. “And you want to know something?” You watch as his lips stretch into a dark little smirk. “You look even better than I imagined.”

And he felt better than you imagined. It was everything to you right now. Tim was everywhere. His grip was firm and solid, making you feel so fragile beneath him as his hips ground into yours.

With your head in the clouds, it all just felt more intense. Your own breathing sounded louder, your heartbeat pounding so loudly you were half convinced it had migrated to your ears. Your body barely even felt like it belonged to you, tingling and sensitive all over as you squirmed beneath him.

His left hand kept you pinned though, nowhere to run. Exactly where you wanted it to be. “Should see how pink you’re getting.” Tim murmurs down to you, his voice rough as his gaze dances over your features. “Looking like you’re gonna pass out.”

He gives you another moment of reprieve as his grip loosens, and that’s the exact moment he decides to snap his hips forwards hard. His cock bullies through your heat, sinking into the base so quick it makes you choke on a breath you were already struggling to take in. The sparks of pleasure that buzzed through you nearly made your vision white out completely, thighs twitching as your cunt clamped down onto him. “Shit-“ Tim groans out. “Knew you’d like that.”

And so he does it again, and again, stealing the remaining breath from your lungs as he picks up a pace that has you near drooling. Pressing up against your g-spot harshly on every thrust in, having you downright squirming on his dick as you struggle to keep up with the new intensity.

It felt like he had picked you up out of shallow water and thrown you straight in the deep end. It was intoxicating. “Fuck, you really do.” Tim grins down at you, stroking his thumb along your neck as he pulls you back to meet each thrust. “Can feel it. Gonna cum all over me just because I’m choking you a little?”

Definitely. You weren’t even ashamed about it.

“Tim, please-“ You beg, rocking your hips back to meet every single mind-numbing thrust. Your hand is trembling when it lifts, but you move it anyway - resting it overtop of his to press his hand down firmer again. “P-Please-“

You really didn’t need to bed twice, because Tim was giving in before you could even start the last bit of that sentence. His fingers curl tight, completely closing off your airway as his restraint starts to fray. Hips borderline slamming into yours now, he keeps you pinned to the sheets by just the grip on your throat. Watching how your eyes roll back. Raving over the little droplets of drool that deep out of the corner of your mouth.

It’s an absolutely intoxicating sight. But the way your walls start to flutter around him? That’s even better.

“Yeah, there it is-“ Tim pants out, keeping his grip form as he drives his cock in deeper. “Go on and cum for me, sweetheart. Show me how much you love this.”

You would’ve even if he hadn’t asked for it.

But when you do? It’s a glorious thing. Easily the best orgasm you’ve had in your life, and it isn’t even close. With the lack of oxygen already making you dizzy, the influx of dopamine makes you nearly black out - an absolutely wrecked cry tearing out of you as your release hits you like a freight train.

You squeeze around him like a vice, hips jerking and limbs trembling like he had fucking exorcised you. It almost felt like it, with just how intense it all was. Teetering on the edge of consciousness as your walls pulse around his throbbing cock, you wouldn’t have even been mad if he let you completely pass out.

He doesn’t though. He wanted you awake for this next bit.

Tim releases you right as he’s following you over that edge of bliss. His grip going slack as his whole body shudders, a ragged groan ringing out into the air as his hips buck into yours. You greedily take in air as your body welcomes his spend, filling you up with warmth that only adds to just how sated you feel right now. So damn pleased, that a little unconscious smile tugs at your lips as your eyes flutter closed.

It takes Tim a couple minutes to notice it, too busy trying to piece himself back together above you, but when he does he can’t help but snort out a laugh.

“What’re you smiling about?” He asks fondly, his voice still deliciously raspy.

What a question. Because what isn't there to smile about?

But, you’re a little too dazed to spit all that out right now, so all you say is;

“You.”

Which seemed to be the perfect answer for Tim.

-

HEYOOOOOOO day three!!!

❥Cowboy! Hange was definitely on the fence about you when you first moved into town. The only reason for their suspicion is their previous experience with who they call “city folk.” Their previous encounters with them had been a bit rocky, since life in town was very traditional. Not in a discriminatory way, they just preferred having a hospitable, close-knit community. 

They’re used to city folk coming with an unfriendly attitude towards strangers. They dislike how they tend to prioritize individualism and a faster pace of life. For a while, their wariness seemed deeply ingrained, as if every newcomer carried the same weight of expectation. They sort of felt obligated to be concerned about you as the town’s sheriff. 

❥When the opportunity arose for you to move out of the overwhelming city, out of the shitty studio you pay way too much money for, you practically ran for the hills. 

Despite the things you hated about city life, it’s what you were used to and you know that moving directly into a town this small was going to be a culture shock for you. You found a quaint job as a librarian in a town named Shiganshina, where the headcount barely exceeds triple digits. 

You felt that suited you now that you’re getting older. You’re not as excitable and extroverted as you used to be, now you’re at an age where you’d like to settle down and find a place to spend the rest of your life- which you’ve long decided is not in the bustling city that never sleeps. 

You were happy to find a quiet job where you won’t have to talk to people very often, where the bulk of your day is spent with headphones on as you place books back on their rightful spot on the shelves.  

Now that you have all of your belongings tucked away, all that's left to do is actually commute to your brand new city. It took a draining few hours, but now you’re finally headed into Shiganshina. However, your GPS’ directions are starting to confuse you, leaving you circling the same area about 3 times. 

From what you’ve seen so far, the town seems very cozy. As you drive past the same village you’ve found yourself trapped in, you're only now noticing the comforting scent of freshly baked bread wafting from the local bakery. This town in general smells far better than the smells of the big city you had been previously living in. 

This small southern town holds a charm that's as warm and cozy as the sun-soaked streets that remind you of your childhood days spent playing in the park with whoever you met there that day. 

As you’re making your 4th loop around this same block, you spot a figure in the distance. As you grow closer, you squint your eyes, and- Holy fuck is that person riding a horse in the middle of the street????

This person seems equally confused by your car as you do by their horse. However, you notice their horse trotting towards your car from a distance, causing you to slow down next to them and roll down your window. 

“Hiya. It’s been a while since I’ve seen someone use a car ‘round these parts.” They start with an airy chuckle, their ever so slight southern accent rolling off their tongue with grace. It's the kind of accent that leaves a warm feeling inside you, effortlessly expressing their friendliness and filling you with a sense of belonging, even if you were only passing through. 

This stranger’s face doesn’t really match their tone. Their physical appearance reminds you of the bitter taste of medicine, but their voice is similar to the spoonful of honey used as a chaser to sweeten the former. 

You give them a quick glance up and down, your eyes scanning their outfit consisting of blue jeans and an open flannel, a tank top underneath that defines their lean build. More interestingly, you catch a buckled belt with a holstered pistol attached. “So, you're a fresh face ain’tcha?” 

Despite their weathered features and the weariness etched into every line on their face, their upbeat tone flows with a kind tenderness that catches you off guard. You aren’t going to lie and say you weren’t slightly skeptical after noticing that this person is fully armed. 

“Are you tryna pass through, or are you lookin’ for somethin’ in particular?” They look down at you from their elevated position on their horse. You look up at them with obvious hesitation. 

“Aha... Yeah, I’m supposed to be moving in today, but I’ve been up and down this same block for the past 15 minutes...” You avert your eyes back to your GPS. “Um... Do you happen to know where 93 Willow Lane is?” 

They chuckle at your question, though you’re not sure why. “Yeah, I know my way ‘round town. You’re not gonna find Willow Lane in your car.” They tilt their cowboy hat, having their horse take a step back. They point in front of them, and you stick your head out of the window to see. They’re pointing toward a dirt path in the grass that’s littered with a few stepping stones. 

“You’ll find 93 down that way. Not many people drive in town, we usually prefer walkin’ or biking. Or horse ridin’, in my case. You can’t park right outside, but on the bright side, you should’ve passed the parkin’ garage when you were lost. It’s right around the corner, real close by.” They explain to you with a shining smile. “Go on and park your car. I can help you carry your things inside.”  

❥Cowboy! Hange does exactly that. They carry about 3-4 of your boxes at one time, which helps get the job done a lot faster than you can, since you can only hold the weight of 2 at a time. 

The last trip the two of you make to your car, all you have left to carry in is a small backpack filled with your laptop and some chargers. Hange hops back onto their horse with ease, looking down at you. “You ever ride a horse before? I’ll give you a ride over to your place on ol’ Sawney.” They say, stroking their horses mane affectionately. 

They notice how nervous you seem as you shift on the balls of your feet. “Not really, no... The only non-domestic animals I’ve ever seen are rats... and pigeons.” You say, shifting your eyes from glancing up at Hange to down at Sawney. Your previous life in the city had conditioned you to be wary of animals. One thing you learn quickly is that you should never get too close to an animal, no less touch one. 

They can read the emotions on your face like a book. Not that it was particularly hard to tell that you were nervous. “Aw, c’mon! Sawney won’t hurt’cha. He’s sweet as a peach.” They sing playfully leaning down closer to your height. “I’m not sure I can-” You attempt to create an excuse so that you don’t have to get on the back of this creature, but Hange cuts you off quickly, hopping back down from the animal. “Trust me, of course you can! I’ll even help ya get on. Plus, I’ll be the one steering him behind ya.” 

❥Cowboy! Hange demonstrates to you how to properly get on the horse, stepping into the stirrup and swinging their body over with relative ease. They can tell you’re still nervous, so they get off and hold your waist for support, hoisting you up. Sawney doesn’t seem to be affected at all by your inexperience. “Now look at that! You did just fine. I told you there was nothin’ to worry ‘bout.” They say, patting your shoulder roughly. Despite the way their praise makes your stomach fill with butterflies, you can’t fully appreciate their words due to the anxiety that takes priority over your emotions. You’re shaking like a leaf on top of Sawney, and you have to hold back an embarrassing yelp as they rest their hand on your shoulder.

❥Cowboy! Hange hops on Sawney behind you, as promised. You nervously lean back against their chest as their arms hold the reins in front of you, unintentionally surrounding you. Their chest is pressed up against your back, their thighs on either side of your body. 

For the first few minutes of riding, your hands nervously clutch at their jeans for stability. But the longer you sit atop Sawney- practically cuddled up in this attractive stranger's arms- the anxiety that clouded over your other emotions starts to clear, allowing you to feel embarrassed and meek.

❥Cowboy! Hange notices your discomfort and chuckles softly. "You’re doin’ just fine. Sawney’s a smooth rider. You’ll get used to ridin’ real quick." Their voice is calm and reassuring, and you find yourself gradually relaxing in their presence. The gentle sway of the horse’s movements, combined with the warmth of Hange's body against yours starts to feel oddly soothing for someone you’ve only just met. 

As you travel down the dirt path, the scenery changes from the small town center to more rustic surroundings. The field of vibrant green grass littered with mixed wildflowers stretches far beyond where the small settling of houses reside, making the space seem almost uncanny, but also dreamlike. 

Hange rides right up to the front of your new house with ease, getting themself off the horse first in order to help you get down. After successfully making sure you don’t fall off of Sawney, you thank them. They grab the rim of their hat and give you a slight nod. “Anytime.” They say with an award winning smile. 

You play with your fingers, picking at your fingernails as you work up the courage to ask them a question. “Um... The house is pretty empty, but would you like to come in for a while?” You ask them, looking up from your fingers to give them a smile in return. “Sure, why the hell not?” They shrug their shoulders, their lighthearted demeanor contradicting everything you originally assumed about them.

❥Cowboy! Hange inquires about your life before moving here. You tell them all about how you grew up in the city, what life there is like, and how you felt like you had to get out. In turn, Hange tells you about what life was like growing up on a farm in the same town you’ve just moved into. How they used to play in the dirt, throwing worms at other kids and going out at night to try and grab frogs. 

The two of you made yourselves comfortable on the small couch in your living room; regardless of the fact that the house came with little furniture, you already feel yourself falling in love with the place.

❥Cowboy! Hange truly enjoys the conversation you share, despite their reservations about people from out of town. They find you to be much kinder and soft spoken in comparison to the others they’ve met. They aren’t sure why, but they feel drawn to you in a unique way. However, they’ll chalk it up to the fact the two of you are getting along quickly and they make a note to stop by again to have another chat.

"Welcome to Shiganshina," Hange says, their smile as warm as the sunlight streaming through the windows. "If you need help movin’ in or anything, don’t hesitate to holler. We’re a tight-knit community here, so if you can’t find me, I’m sure someone else’ll come runnin’. I have a feelin’ you’ll fit right in." 

❥Cowboy! Hange tends to stroll around in town on their horse when the days are warm. They don’t technically need to, the station would simply call them if they were needed, but it’s something they enjoy regardless of their position as sheriff. 

On a particularly warm day with the sun hanging bright in the sky, you decided to use your day off to spend some time outside and hopefully get your vitamin d levels up. So, you decided to take a stroll through the local park. You’ve seen it in passing, and it’s full of life and shrubbery and flowers you hadn’t gotten the chance to see or appreciate in the city. 

A short while after you enter the park, you see a few groups of people already there. It starts to make you feel self conscious that everyone here showed up with a friend, family member or partner, but you had no one alongside you. Lucky for you, Hange also seized the opportunity to stroll around outdoors.

Hange sees you from afar as their other horse Bean trots along the sidewalk. They had an inner debate with themself over if they should approach you, but their insecurities were tossed aside when they noticed that your form is rigid and you’re picking at your fingers nervously. 

They smile to themself because they understand why you would feel uncomfortable in a situation like your own, moving into a small town out of the blue where everyone already knows each other. They’re familiar with the feeling of awkwardness, even if they’ve lived here their whole life. 

Despite having been raised in Shiganshina, they also sometimes feel out of place compared to other residents. For a while now, they’ve been feeling out of place with all of the budding romance in town. It feels to them that everyone they know is in a serious relationship or married, but they haven’t even been interested in anyone for what feels like forever.

It’s not that they never wanted or expected to fall in love, it was just something that hadn’t happened for them yet. After being alone for so long, they had kind of gotten used to it. Hange had resigned themself to the idea that maybe they were meant to be alone. But now, seeing you standing there with a nervous demeanor, butterflies stirred within their stomach, only confirming the feelings of affection already forming for you. 

Once they get closer to you, they tap your shoulder. “Howdy, sugar. You’re stickin’ out like a sore thumb.” They say, giving you a smile and reaching for your wrist. They lead you and Bean towards a free bench, closeby to a lake. You can’t help but chuckle at how quickly they saved you from your own embarrassment. In a moment of confidence, you slip your wrist out of their grip, instead opting to hold their hand. 

The sound of the keys jangling from their carabiner as their legs move catches your attention. You’d never thought the clanging of metal would sound so much like home. Maybe you’re just romanticizing the situation, but it sounds musical, like wind chimes in a storm. As they sit next to you, you’re hit with the smell of freshly cut grass with hints of amber that you can enjoy even over the earthy smell of the lake in front of you. 

They lean forward on the bench, their knees spread apart and their arms resting against their thighs. They tilt their head your way. “So, how’s the town been treatin’ you so far? Ya like it?” Their kindness and concern makes your heart warm. You smile, the corners of your mouth curving upward. “It's been a big adjustment, obviously. But everyone’s been kind so far. It's... peaceful, quiet. Different from what I'm used to, but in a good way.”

You can see the smile reflecting in their eyes without even looking at their lips. Their crows feet are prominent whenever their lips upturn. "I can only ‘magine. But you seem to be holdin’ up just fine."

You glance at the murky lake in front of you, the water about as clear as the cup of coffee you had this morning. Despite this, the surface glimmers faintly under the sun all the same, giving the scene the feel of a landscape painting. 

“I think everyone already has grown on me. The few I’ve met at least. My neighbor even brought by some fresh cookies and bread.” You say, recalling the surprise you felt. The lady that dropped by can hardly even be considered your neighbor, as there’s at least a 3 minute walk between your houses. “This place is charming. It's starting to feel homey, though I still get lost sometimes.” You chuckle lightly, raising your hand to cover your smile. 

“Yeah, Shiganshina's got that effect on folks. It ain't fast-paced like the city, but there's plenty’a heart here. I'm glad you're feelin' welcomed.”

You take a deep breath, trying to ignore the buzzing of your nerves as you attempt to hold this conversation. “And you? You seem to know everyone around here. Must be nice.”

Hange chuckles softly, a hint of thoughtfulness in their eyes. They lightly shake their head in disagreement. “Ain't always easy, bein' the sheriff. Knowin' everyone means knowin' their business, the good, bad, and ugly. But it's home, ya know? Can't imagine bein' anywhere else.”

You chuckle lightly at their response, “I can’t imagine you being anywhere else either.” You tease, giving them a coy smile, to which they give you a playfully disapproving look in response. “I understand that, though. I felt like that for a while too before I actually moved. Since I grew up in the city, I was used to the lifestyle and never wanted to deal with a big change.” 

Hange's expression softens from their previous one. "Yeah, I ain’t a big fan of it either," they admit, their tone contemplative and thoughtful. “I’m not an adventurous type. But sometimes a big change can end up being the best for us.”

You look at them with a certain tenderness while you process their wise words. You feel like you have to agree. Moving to Shiganshina had seemed daunting at first, but it brought you a fresh perspective on life. 

Their tight-knit community was beginning to offer you a sense of belonging and you never knew how much you would enjoy it. The slower pace of Shiganshina allowed for more meaningful connections between everyone you knew. At this point, you’ve known Hange for less than a month, and you feel like you’ve had significantly more meaningful conversations with them in comparison to most of your old friends.

Hange interrupts your train of thought as they continue with their sentence. “I hope this move was the best for you. I don't usually warm up quickly to people I've just met.” As you look up to meet their eyes, you swear that they have a certain sparkle. “So, what I’m sayin’ is that there’s somethin’ I like about you. It's not every day that I meet someone like you. It's... nice.” 

At the moment, you’re not exactly sure how to respond to their abrupt vulnerability. Not because you’re uncomfortable- it’s exactly the opposite. You understand what they mean because you feel the same. 

They clear their throat awkwardly, realizing that they might’ve left you feeling at a loss for words. “I just hope we get to know each other better ‘nd all.” They add in a rushed tone. “Oh, would you look at that,” You start to smile due to how fast they try to change the topic, but refrain from laughing. 

“Bean’s gettin’ antsy for some exercise!” They chuckle nervously, getting up from the bench and patting Bean’s backside. They expertly avoid eye contact with you as you follow their actions, getting up from your seat as well. You part your lips to say something to fill the air, but you hear the clearing of Hange’s throat before any sounds come out. “How about you try ridin’ again? By yourself this time.” Their eyes find your own when they ask, making it your turn to dodge eye contact. “Ahhh... Um, I dunno.” You scratch at the back of your neck awkwardly. “I don’t think I’m ready to do it by myself...” 

“Psssh. Nonsense.” That was the last thing you heard before you felt Hange’s strong hands take hold of your waist, lifting you up on Bean with ease. 

You start defensively stuttering “H-Hold on, wait, I-” you scramble. Before you know it, you’re on top of another horse against your wishes. Hange laughs at your skittishness, patting your back similarly to the first time you hopped on Sawney. “You’ll be fine, Bean is a good boy. His rides are a bit more shakey than Sawney, though. But don’t worry, if anything goes wrong I’ll be there to catch’ya. Promise.” They say, looking up at you with such a sweet smile… Fuck, you just can’t deny them when they’re so charming. 

❥You and Cowboy! Hange spent a few hours together at the park. You rode on their horse for what felt like forever but was actually only 45 minutes. Hange insists that you’re a natural but you’re positive that you’re performing lower than the average person, they’re just too nice to say anything about it. 

You two also spent time walking around the perimeter of the lake, watching the owners that let their dogs run free, and best of all, just talking to each other. Being so close to them and watching their facial expressions shift was comforting. You try your best to commit this day to memory by combing all of their features with your eyes over and over.

❥Cowboy! Hange walks you back to your house, Bean strolling at their side. When you both finally reach your front door, you suddenly don’t know what to say. Neither of you truly wants to leave, you can both feel the strings of fate pulling you together, but the night is slipping away, and the reality weighs on both of you. 

Hange shifts on their feet, glancing at you with that familiar sparkle in their eyes, as if they too are searching for the right words. You chuckle, rubbing the back of your neck. “Guess this is goodnight, huh?” Hange grins, but there’s an unspoken promise to be found within it. “For now,” they say, lingering just a moment longer before turning to hop on Bean. 

You watch them, nibbling on the inside of your cheek. Just when you’re about to retreat into your home, their voice causes you to turn your head back to them. “Um… Would it be alright if I stopped by tomorrow? ‘Round this time?” They ask hopefully, bashfully averting their eyes from their reigns to your face. You smile broadly, trying to hide it but inevitably failing. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be here.” You say, trying not to sound too giddy. 

You can’t tell how well you mask your emotions, because you feel like a dog that’s just been told it’s going for a walk. Thank god you don’t have a tail, or it would be wagging wildly. 

Parting ways with them didn’t feel nearly as bad when the promise of reconvening was stuck in your mind like a song that you can’t stop listening to.

❥Cowboy! Hange has a plan. They had an inkling from your first interaction- sitting on your couch and chattering away- that they had a fondness for you. Your run-in at the park only reinforced the feelings that were already present. They knew they wanted to do something special for the next time they’d come by your house.

❥Cowboy! Hange woke up bright and early before their shift at the station to buy a small bundle of flowers from a small shop downtown. The shop was run by a girl with brown hair, tied up into a ponytail with a heavy accent, even more so than them. They think her name was Sasha, if they’re remembering correctly. Hange had a good chuckle from the girl nearly jumping out of her seat as they walked in, a loaf of bread between her jaws whilst ringing them up.

You can’t help but anticipate and daydream of Hange’s arrival from the moment your eyes open until you’re released from your shift at the library. You feel embarrassed by how eagerly you listen to any noise that might be slightly akin to a knock upon the door. You feel like the embodiment of a schoolgirl doodling hearts and initials over their notes. 

When you finally hear the soft rapping of their knuckles against the door, you nearly open the door within the same 5 seconds. You stare at the doorknob for a bit, to avoid seeming like you were waiting for them… Even though you were.

You’re not disappointed when you finally turn the lock and twist the knob. 

❥Cowboy! Hange becomes hyper aware of the dampness settling in their palms as they hear the distinct click of the lock and subtle creak from the door. Their face is partially obscured by the flowers they’re holding up as an attempt to hide their blush. They clear their throat, still peeking from above the bundle of flowers. “So, um… I did some thinking. I figured, why beat around the bush?” They say, practically thrusting the flowers into your hands. “Whaddya say we head out for dinner tonight?” Their lopsided grin charming you more than you thought possible. 

❥Dating Cowboy! Hange is nothing short of a dream. For someone with such little experience with romance and lovey-dovey affections, they are oddly suave. 

Like the town you both live in, they tend to be traditional in the ways in which they treat you. They always have to be the one to pay. They always walk you to your door, all the way. They’re always trying to be chivalrous. They bring you flowers and gifts routinely. They kill bugs for you. 

But of course that’s nothing to look down upon, how could you not be absolutely swooning over them? 

❥Cowboy! Hange decided to fully commit to the idea of teaching you how to ride a horse on your own.

It took plenty of getting used to. At least by the time you two actually started dating you already had some experience.

Warm days were spent atop Sawney or Bean, the horses moving at a relaxed pace, smooth and unhurried around the large open field surrounding your house.

After riding on your own more than a few times, you finally decided you were ready to venture away from your yard and onto actual roads. They were proud of you, you had gone from being absolutely horrified even standing next to their horses, and now you’re riding them on the open road.

You two decided to head to Hange’s house, since you had realized that you hadn’t been there yet by pure coincidence. It had always been easy for Hange to ride over to your house quickly for surprise visits, dinner dates, movie nights, and any other times you two just wanted to see each other.

Once you two arrived, Hange got off their horse first, stepping down to help you dismount as well. Even though your skills were rapidly growing, the one thing you had trouble with was properly getting off. You think too hard about startling the horse that you always trip and inelegantly wobble on your feet to find balance.

Hange strides over to you, hands beginning to lift in order to dismount you, but before they can you decide to try your luck at impressing them by dismounting on your own. You remind yourself that confidence is what you need, hopping off quickly is easier than trying to slowly climb down.

You hop down with ease, landing flat on your feet without stumbling. Their eyes light up with surprise, their open mouth turning up into a smile. Still, before they say anything, you snatch the hat from on top of their head, gracefully placing it atop your hair. “Looks like I’m a real cowboy now. Or do I need to lasso a bull first for the full cowboy certification?” You say with a cheeky smirk gracing your face. 

They weren’t prepared for the sight in front of them, their cheeks warming up at your display of ego. “Well look at that,” Hange drawls, eyes twinkling. They can’t help the swarm of less than pure thoughts that fly through their mind. “You know what they say, cowgirl. If you wear a cowboy's hat, you have to ride the cowboy.” 

Of course, everything Hange does has to have an air of tenderness, and of adoration.

They take your hand as they lead you inside, kissing it before letting go. With the swiftness and ease of ink flowing from a pen, they lift you up as if you weigh nothing. And naturally, they navigate your body as if they had written it themself. 

However, once they have you in their arms they toss you onto their bed unceremoniously, as if you’re nothing more than something to conquer. The hat flies off of your head and in a random direction that you don’t currently care to take note of.

In an instant, their lips are trailing along your neck, a soft sigh of joy passing through your lips. Having them on top of you makes you feel all-consumed by them and their affections.

Their hands are placed on your hips, slowly sliding up beneath your shirt, bunching it up as their hands continue moving. They glance up at you, making sure it’s alright to continue.

You give them a soft smile, grabbing one of their hands and continuing to pull them upwards. This causes them to chuckle at your eagerness and proceed to remove your shirt, leaving you in just your bra.

They decide not to remove your bra, enjoying the idea of being half dressed. With your blanket permission, they also strip your bottom half of your pants. You can’t help but feel a bit shy since you’re the only one undressed.

Hange starts to back up on the bed, starting to kiss you again, this time on your stomach and hips. You softly lock your fingers in their hair, carefully pulling away their ponytail.

Their hair tickles your stomach as it drops to frame their face. They are undeterred by this, even as you bring your dominant hand back towards their head to hold on to a patch of hair.

Once they get their fill of kissing you, they move their attention to your clothed pussy. They lightly brush their tongue up your slit, not bothering to move your underwear. 

They’re nothing if not slow and teasing. Their tongue is going at a painfully slow pace and pressure. They keep teasing your slit up and down, purposely leaving your clit ignored. It’s fucking torture and they know it. 

Once you start to get teary eyed and squirmy, they finally drag their tongue over your clothed clit ever so slowly. After finally having the stimulation you need, your leg muscles twitch beside their head, barely restraining yourself from pushing your hips against them as much as possible. 

You thought you were now free from their torturous teasing. You thought. It couldn’t have been any longer than 2 minutes before they pulled back, getting up from the bed entirely. You almost allow the tears building in your eyes to fall, until you see them start to remove their own clothes. 

Your eyes are fully glued to their form as they undress. Their chest is relatively small and perky, so they didn’t feel a need to wear a bra or binder today. This means you’re quickly met with their bare skin. 

They look towards you, feeling your eyes practically burning a hole through them. They chuckle at your focus on them. “Impatient?” They say with a grin playing on their face. In response to their question, you roll your eyes before giving them an unamused look. “…A’right.” They say, getting the message that if they keep teasing you that you would probably burst into flames…

With a quicker pace, they pull on their harness over their boxers, securing their strap into it.

Their strap is pretty standard definition. It’s average sized for a dildo, about 7 inches. A solid black color. Veiny and phallic shaped. 

When they head back over to you, they press their lips into your own. Lovingly at first, but quickly it turns heated and fervent. 

Their hands travel to your lower back, lifting you up by it and flipping you backwards.

Once their strap begins to settle inside you, you realize why they had been so kind before. Because they won’t be so forgiving now.

They grab a handful of your hair as they start to thrust into you more, having been prepped by their tongue prior. 

They aren’t too cruel, they start slow as to not hurt you, but within the blink of an eye your neck is craning backwards from their hold on your hair, their hips roughly bumping against your ass.

Fuck. It hurts, but it’s better than any pain you can imagine. The feeling of them inside of you, reaching deeper than you’re used to… you’re surprised you’re not seeing stars. 

Hange cranes your neck just a bit more so that they can lean in to whisper into your ear. You’re sure that they said something, but you’re not coherent enough to truly process it. The slight feeling of pain from your hair tugging at your head paired with the pace of their hips is making you delirious.

Their free hand slides across your hip, slinking around your stomach to circle your clit. Because of this you’re panting hard and crying out their name weakly and it doesn’t take much longer for you to cum. 

They slow their pace as you ride out your orgasm, changing from rough and fast to slow and more deep. They release their hold on your hair and you realize your arms feel weak, causing you to nose dive into the pillow below you.

They giggle softly at you and carefully pull their strap out and turn you over. You look up at them with a smile, wrapping your arms around their shoulders and pulling them closer. 

They smile as well as they hover over you. “I didn’t hurt’cha, right?” They ask with slight nervousness. With a teasing look you say “Not too badly, at least.”

“Ahh, you’ve got jokes.” They tease, dipping their head to kiss your neck. That shuts you up quickly. 

It’s your turn to run your fingers in their hair, which you do, tilting your head up so they have more skin to take advantage of.

And they don’t let the opportunity pass them by. Their lips travel to your collarbone, sucking a mark in a modest area. They may have the libido of a teen boy, but they don’t want to bring that type of embarrassment to either of you.

They continue to wind you up as slowly and teasingly as possible. Your patience is running thinner than paper, so you wrap your leg around their side, pushing them under you. 

Their expression of slight shock and pure wonder is priceless. “This was technically the deal, wasn’t it? Riding the cowboy.” You chuckle. 

They stare up at you owlishly, their hands grazing your thighs and sliding to your hips. They guide you back on their strap slowly. 

You didn’t expect to feel so full in this position. Your fingers dig into their shoulders as you use your legs to move up and down. You also didn’t realize how strenuous this would be. Shit, maybe it’s time to hit the gym.

You don’t let the burn in your legs deter you, especially not when Hange is below you, looking at you as if you crafted the earth and heavens just for them. 

Thankfully it becomes easier to ignore when the burning in your stomach outweighs the sensation in your legs. 

You feel like a ghost of yourself, watching distantly as a ragdoll shaped like you tries to chase release. The only thing keeping you grounded at the moment is the visibility of Hange’s enjoyment. It’s surprisingly motivating.

Their hands are everywhere. On your hips, thighs, back, chest, shoulders… They can’t get enough of your soft skin paired with your undivided attention. “Fuck…” They mumble with a chuckle under their breath. 

You’re so close, and hearing their soft curse only brings you closer. The heat in your center is almost unbearable as you sigh and moan tiredly. 

They notice your lethargy and decide to help you out. They get a strong hold on your waist and start thrusting upwards to give your legs a bit of a break.

“You look so good like this, sugar. Keep going.” They say as they pull you closer in their hold, their chin resting on your chest as they gaze straight up at you.

With their encouragement and aid of their hips, you cum hard. Your head lolls back as you continue to ride out your orgasm on their lap. They keep their hands on your hips as they fuck their strap into you, their grip tight and slightly bruising. “That’s it… just like that.” They mumble to you. You lift yourself off of their lap, slumping down beside them tiredly. 

They pull off their harness, flopping beside you in bed. Their arms pull you into their warm, comforting embrace, their head resting against your own. They whisper praises in your ear until you drift off to sleep.

You’re a bit disoriented when you wake up. You sit up and realize you aren’t in your own bed, the memory of events invading your mind seconds after. Only problem is that you don’t see Hange. You’re sure they’re still here, it is their house after all, but you still feel a bit sad that their presence wasn’t beside you. 

You step out of bed and feel the weakness in your legs immediately. You grab your discarded clothes before carefully wobbling out of their room at a slow pace, as if you’re learning how to walk for the first time again. You definitely need to hit the StairMaster after this. 

When you step out of their bedroom, you see them attempting to cook you dinner. It’s nothing particularly special, just a panini and some french fries, but you can see how concentrated they are as they try their best to ensure the panini won’t burn. 

They hear the pattering of your bare feet against the floor, which causes them to look over their shoulder. “Hi darlin’. I’m making dinner, you should head back to bed to rest. I’m sorry if I went a little too rough.” 

(Almost) always the gentleman. You walk over and wrap your arms around their waist, leaning against their broad chest. “It’s alright. It was worth the soreness.” You assure them quietly. Their arms drape over your shoulders, one hand stroking your hair while the other rubs your back lightly.

“If you say so.” They say, kissing your forehead. You stay like this for a while, listening to the thumping of their heart as you rest against them. Everything about their presence is soothing, whether they’re touching you or not. And when they add touch to the equation? Forget about it. You could probably fall asleep standing up. 

You only lift your head from their chest as you feel a tingle in your nose. You sniff a few times before looking up at them. “Do you smell that?” You ask.

Hange stiffens in your hold, turning around to see smoke coming from the sandwich they were making you. The sight of the grey puffs trailing up to the ceiling causes them to spring into action, to remove the sandwich before a fire starts. “Shit!-”