Shooting my shot
Pairing: Ryland Grace x single mom!Reader
Summary: Grace falls in love with you, the new english teacher, and the mom of one of his students. One day, 'shooting his shot', takes on a different meaning...
Wordcount: 7.0k
Warnings/tags: Porn with plot, smut, strangers to friends to lovers, implied suicidal thoughts, implied depression, school shootings, guns, semi-public sex, closet sex, p in v sex, creampie, dirty talk, praise, unsafe sex, hair pulling, mentions of rape (NEVER bc of Grace), angst, happy ending, comfort, english isn't my first language, not proof read
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
Your daughter Holly was a good kid. She was very uncomplicated growing up, something you were grateful for when her father decided to leave the both of you when she was three.
You tried your best as a single mom, and you knew you hadn't always been perfect. Still, Holly was always very hard working and good in school, until 8th grade middle school came. Kids became meaner, school days were longer and more draining, you didn't have as much time for her anymore since everything got more expensive, but your lousy loan stayed the same.
Holly often found you crying late at night, hunched over unpaid bills and warnings from the apartment complex, threatening to turn off your water if you couldn't pay soon. And there was nothing she could do to help you.
So it didn't take long for her grades to start slipping.You noticed the B's becoming C's, the C's edging toward D's, and when you tried to bring it up gently over dinner, suggesting a tutor for her, despite you not really being able to afford one, her fork had clattered against her plate and she muttered something about having a headache and disappeared into her room.
You sat there in the empty kitchen, surrounded by the ghost of a family that had fractured years ago, and felt the familiar weight of inadequacy press down on your shoulders. You sighed deeply, your head in your hands.
You didn't push. Holly knew she could always come to you to vent or for help. But you told yourself it was fine, that she was going through a phase, that teenagers were moody creatures by nature. You took on extra shifts at the bookstore, came home with aching feet and tired eyes, and pretended not to notice that the light in Hollys room stayed on later and later each night. You didn't have the energy after such a long day to speak to check up on her, and you felt like the worst mom ever because of this.
You couldn't even pick her up from school most of the time, which wasn't even the biggest issue- because what you didn't know was that Holly often stayed after class to talk to her favourite teacher Mr. Grace.
It had started small. First a missed homework assignment, then a failed quiz, which was the kind of academic stumbling that could have been corrected with a simple after school detention and was easily blamed on a bad day. But Ryland could tell it was more than that when Holly lingered at his desk after the students filtered out of the classroom instead of heading to the detention hall, and when he asked her what was wrong with that gentle, patient voice of his, something had cracked open inside her chest.
Holly plopped back down into her chair in the front row, her head in her hands, and Grace wheeled over in his chair, folding his palms together on the table. "I can't do it anymore" she whispered, and Rylands face fell into deep settled concern. She wasn't just confessing she was thinking about ending her life, right? His shoulders squared up as she continued.
"I can't keep pretending everything is fine when it's not. I feel tired every single day, I don't have the energy to do anything and I can't tell my mom because she's already doing so much. I just feel like I am the reason her life is so miserable and that my dad left." she sniffled, wiping away the hot tears, feeling embarassed she was crying in front of her teacher, even though he always tried to make sure his students felt comfortable in his lessons.
Something tugged at Rylands heart, his own eyes watering slightly. He couldn't believe his ears "I should have never existed, I'm such a failure anyway. I can't make her proud, I don't have any friends, I just make her worry about me even though she really doesn't need that extra baggage now" Holly hiccuped, and Grace just listened. For 45 minutes, he just sat there and listened while Holly talked about the crushing weight of the academic stress on her shoulders, the way her social anxiety made every class feel like an endurance test and the suffocating fear that she would never be good enough for anything or anyone and that she'd end up dead before she turned 18.
Everything hit too close to home, and he was too choked up at the end of it. It was a lot to take in, and too much for a thirteen year old girl to deal with. Ryland was by no means a therapist, but he could share his own experiences, which didn't stray far from Hollys.
He told her about his own parents divorcinc when he and his twin brother were little. About how each parent took one kid. His brother Colt grew up with their bitter father, while Ryland grew up with only his mother. She also tried her best to keep them both afloat, and him being a smart kid wasn't exactly a blessing, because his mom had to pay for college, study groups, private schools and many more things regarding his education so he could get his doctoral title. Paying with money she never had. He watched her work her ass off day in and day out just so he could chase his dreams, while hers laid forgotten in the past. He threw himself into his work because he didn't want the hard earned money of his mother to go to waste and it was easier than dealing with his feelings.
"Your mom loves you" he said, and his voice was so earnest, so genuinely kind, that Holly couldn't help but actually sob. He took a handkerchief out of his suit jacket and gave it to her "She'd miss you terribly, even if she never had you. I'm sure of that. And I know you don't want to burden her, but carrying this alone isn't fair to either of you. You should tell her" he suggested, though he knew that was easier said than done.
So when teacher-parent evening arrived, he decided to give Hollys situation a little helping push. And you already dreaded going. All of the students had their mom and dad present, while you were the only Single mother there. You felt very out of place.
You dressed in a modest blouse and sensible slacks, that at least made you look like a responsible adult even though you just felt like a fraud. You sat at the very back of the classroom, only half listening to what the principle had to say about updated rules, planned school trips, additional education fees you'd have to pay in the new year and general issues that had surfaced in class- bullying, social media trends disturbing lessons and the repeated usage of phones during classes even though it was prohibited. The usual.
Only when a blonde man with glasses sitting in front of his blue eyes took the word did you start to actually listen. Suddenly the science kits you had to help pay for your children to use and the planetarium they planned to visit sounded so interesting. So that was the infamous Mr. Grace Holly had voiced to be her favourite teacher so many times. You could see why. He was a bit shy around so many parents, but he was funny, and it sounded like he knew what he was talking about, and that he did so with a passion.
When he began to stray from one topic to another, sharing informations that really didn't matter and turned into nonsensical rambling only a fellow molecular biologist could understand, the principle stopped him kindly and wrapped up the evening.
The parents filtered out one by one while you still had to recover from the spell Mr. Grace' awkward charm had left on you. Speaking of which, the man himself now stood in front of you, hands in his pockets to appear nonchalant "Mrs-" He stopped to clear his throat and you snapped out of your haze, your eyes snapping up at him.
You practically jumped from your seat, brushing over your hair and blouse to shake his hand. "Hi, I'm Hollys-"
"-Hollys mom" he stated at the same time as you. You both giggled, and you saw a flush creeping up his neck. "I was hoping I'd get a chance to speak with you alone, if you have a moment?" he asked you then, and you agreed, because there was something in his expression that made your stomach flip in a way that had nothing to do with anxiety about your daughter. Curse your dirty mind, but you hadn't get laid in forever, and Holly never mentioned just how handsome her teacher was.
He led you to his empty classroom, closed the door behind you and gestured for you to take a seat. You admired the solar system hanging from the ceiling that looked handmade, the walls plastered with countless of posters with pictures of the milky way or planets on them and how his desk was stacked with books.
He sat behind his desk on his chair, spinning in it before he stopped himself when he faced you. "First of all" he started "This is not about Hollys academic developement. She is a wonderful student. She's intelligent, creative, and when she lets herself, she's genuinely engaged with the material." he smiled softly, lifting a bit of weight off your shoulders.
"But!" he lifted his finger "She's struggling, in school and also privately. And I think you already know that." he sighed, looking at you over the rim of his glasses. You nodded while lowering your head, your throat tight. Wow, he probably thought you were the worst mother ever.
Grace cleared his throat "I know this is very personal information that I shouldn't know, but Holly felt safe enough to open up to me, and she told me about her father" Ryland continued, and his voice softened.
"About your divorce, about how she doesn't want to add to your stress because she can see how hard you're working. And I just-" he sighed, not knowing how to phrase his next words "I wanted you to know that I know how much you're actually doing for her and how hard it is. My mom was a single parent, and she sacrificed so much for me. What you're doing? It matters. Even when it doesn't feel like it."
You don't remember exactly when you started crying. You just remembered his hand hesitantly covering yours on the desk, the warmth of it, the way he didn't pull away when you turned your palm up and held on. "I don't know what to do" you admitted, patting away the tears with the handkerchief he gave you "I'm barely keeping us afloat as it is. I can't afford therapy for her, I can't afford tutors, I can't-" you got chocked up, excusing yourself with a small voice as you blew your nose.
Grace patted your back in sympathy. "Holly told a few things about you, aside from telling me she couldn't wish for a better mom" he said with a reassuring smile, hoping to make you feel better. It made you cry even harder, you loved your little girl. She was so mature and understanding, though you wished she didn't have to act like an adult so soon. "She told me you have a degree in literature. There is an opening in the english department, we could really use another english teacher around here." he offered, making you stop in your tracks.
"It would be full time and you'd get better pay than what you are making now. Another benefit is that you could see Holly every day and spend more time with her. The principal practically eats out of my hands" he said, the last statement being more or less true "I could put in a good word for you, if you wanted."
You stared at him, your mouth agape "Why would you do that?" you asked, your voice wobbly, and the urge to pull him into a crushing hug was intense.
He shrugged, leaning back in his chair, and that flush crept up his neck again. "Because I think Holly needs you to have a little less weight on your shoulders. And because-" he paused, his eyes searching yours, and there was something vulnerable there, something raw. "Because I think you deserve someone in your corner." he admitted, giving you a little friendly nudge.
And so started your new, better life just a few weeks later. While you had been nervous the whole job interview, and you waited for their decision outside the principals office, bouncing your leg. But Grace assured you that you'd get the job. He had been eavesdropping and told you he had fucked up greatly in his job interview back then, and they still hired him. So you shouldn’t worry about a thing, you crushed it.
And he was right, you got the position! Holly wasn't sure about her own mother being her teacher, and how her class would probably bully her even harder now. But when you came in two weeks later on your first day, it turned out that you were just as cool as Mr. Grace. You were very generous, humorous and you didn't take everything so seriously. She was glad, ad it actually made her life in class a little easier now.
The first person you saw when you finished your first lesson, the stressful weight of fear finally washing off of you, was Mr. Grace. Or Ryland, as you now were allowed to call him.
He leaned against the wall outside your classroom, trying to make it look like it was just a coincidence that he was standing there with two coffees, right when your class ended. It looked painfully awkward, but how could you resist those eyes and his cheeky grin?
"Oh, hi there! I was already wondering when you'd be starting here" he smiled, which was a lie. He knew today was your first day, he had known ever since he sneaked into the principals office a week ago to look through the application letters and employment contracts. "Bad stage fright?" he asked you then, jogging to catch up with you as you walked to the teachers lounge for your break. "It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, the students are pretty nice so far" you shrugged, smiling at him and his two coffee cups, and it seemed like he only now realised how stupid he looked holding two drinks.
He scrambled to hand you one "Here, got a good luck coffee for you. I didn't know what you liked though" he said sheepishly, licking his lips as he watched you take a generous sip "I got it with cream and sugar. That's how my mom drinks hers. I hope that's okay."
It was perfect. You told him so, and the smile that spread across his face made your heart stutter. And now it became routine. He even complimented the school I.D card you had hanging around your neck, your picture way less embarassing than his. He hated that he had to wear it around, pouting when you laughed at him.
Your timetables matched pretty well, so most of the time, Grace would wait for your class to be over, hand you a coffee and walk with you to the teachers lounge, Cafeteria or just into his empty classroom to chit-chat. Because he was already there before your lesson was over, he would always end his own lessons about 10 minutes early. Which was a delight for the students, but they quickly realised why he was shortening the lessons.
It couldn't have been more obvious- like, right-in-your-face obvious, that Mr. Grace appreantly had the hots for the new englisch teacher.
They saw him walk you to your car, longingly gazing down the street until your car was out of view before saddling up his bike. He used you as an example in his lessons sometimes, he made sure to look neat when you knocked during class to ask for a whiteboard marker, he'd be late to lessons because your great company in the teachers lesson made him forget the time, he started wearing just one specific tie after you had said it looked good on him and the real blow came when you and Grace arrived at school one day, in your car together.
It had been pouring, and you drove past him helplessly riding his bike against the onslaught of rain, his yellow coat doing only so much to keep him dry, and he could barely see the sidewalk in front of him with how wet his glasses got.
You had scooped him off the streets like a wet stray kitten and drove him to school, heater on full blast to warm him up. Turns out he had overslept that morning because he stayed up late too grade papers, and he was so warm and cozy in your car that he had a hard time fighting sleep.
Dragging a sleepy Grace out of your toasty car and back into the rain was certainly a task. He had clung to you like a protesting child, and you would have carried him inside if you had the strength. He was so tired he didn't even realise how whiny he was, and how much he was touching you as you made your way inside the school building. He hoped no one saw that.
Practically the whole school saw. And no student would let him live it down.
He caught students drawing him and you holding hands on their ipads during lessons, and he tried to pretend he didn't saw them, while his ears matched the red tape he had used to demonstrate the petrova line between the sun and venus. Some students even wrote what he only could call fanfictions about you and him, which was highly embarassing, and he hoped they weren't going into an inappropriate direction. That would be very weird.
Not that he didn’t think about bending you over his very desk between classes to fuck that sweet pussy of yours, but that was besides the point.
You were the mom of one of his students, one of which who had opened up to him about her trauma and problems and fears, and he didn't have anything better to do than to crush on you. Heavily. And the worst part was that Holly got teased for his simping behavior.
One thing about Grace was that he couldn't shut up when the students asked questions about you. He was the type of teacher you could easily trick into talking about his personal life and experiences than doing actual teaching until the bell rang, and Grace would be damned if he lost an opportunity to talk about you, praise your knowledge and skill and maybe letting it slip that he finds you very pretty, but that was one time! And very vague!
But it was enough for everyone to whisper and laugh about it to Holly. Some of her new friends actually thought it was pretty sweet, that you and Grace would make a cute couple, others didn't care, and her bullys made fun of her as if she could control what two adult people felt for each other.
You were way more subtle with your attraction to Grace, but just as obvious to his massive crush on you. If students were bold enough to ask you about it, you always declined any feelings. You were just colleagues, friends even.
No one was convinced, especially Holly.
You didn't know how to tell her that you were terrified of ruining the fragile peace you had built, of making things weird for her, of being rejected by a man who could have anyone he wanted and knew as much.
Every time you saw Ryland across the hall, every time he leaned close to show you something on his laptop and you caught the scent of his cologne, every time he laughed at one of your jokes and his eyes crinkled at the corners, you wanted him so badly it ached. But you held back. You both did. What else were you supposed to do, really? You didn't even know if the school allowed relationships between teachers, and you weren't about to go and ask. It would complicate so many things, you were sure, so you and Grace remained friends for the forseeable future.
Or so you thought.
The day began like any other, with the only difference being Holly waking up with a nasty cold. After tucking her back into bed with some tea, cough syrup and a wet rag on her forhead, you kissed her head goodbye. You informed her you'd leave on the notifications on your phone, so if something was wrong, she should just call.
You swallowed down the worry as you drove to the school, getting into the usual flow of teaching for months now.
In the break afterwards, you were just about to get yourself a snack out of the vending machine, when alarms blared overhead. At first, you thought it was just a harmless fire alarm practice, but then the voice of the principal sounded through the halls, urging everyone to stay quiet and hide, as an active school shooting was taking place, caused by a group of students.
You stood frozen in fear, your blood turning cold, and only when you heard gunshots down the hallway you started running, fishing out your phone as you sprinted through the school corridors that suddenly felt like a labyrinth, trying to call Holly.
She didn't pick up, probably asleep, and you let out a frustrated shriek.
You came across a supply closet and you instantly ripped open the door, closing it behind you silently. In a rush, you tried to barricade the door with the wooden shelves that were way taller than you, but despite the adrenaline rushing through your veins, you weren't strong enough to move it.
So all you did was hiding yourself in the corner, making yourself appear as small as you could, holding your head as you heard shots, glass breaking and screaming outside.
You thought about Grace, about where he was when this started, and if he was safe. But the more gunshots you heard, the more your hope ran through your fingers- and you had to acknowledge the other possibility of having to witness his corpse being brought out of the school once police arrived.
You helplessly curled in on yourself, quitely sobbing into your hands. You flinched together at the next gunshots that sounded way too close, and you fought to not let out a startled scream. You pressed your hands over your mouth to muffle any sounds as fat tears silently ran over your cheeks. Your breathing was ragged, your heart thumping loudly in your chest as shadows swooshed past the milky window of the supply closet door. You tried to hold your breath, but it only made you more lightheaded and panicked.
There had never been a school shooting in this area before, luckily, you never wanted to know that Holly had to endure a situation like this, and you were glad she was home. You just didn't know if you would make it home today yourself...
For a few long moments, everything was impossibly still outside. Maybe the shooter had left, or police had arrived, or they left this part of the school to clear out the yard behind the building. But the principal hadn't spoken through the speakers again, and you weren't about to test your theories.
RINGRINGRINGRINGRING-
"Fuck!" you cursed loudly as your phone began to blare through the small room.
Your hands fumbled with your pockets to get your phone out, trembling as you tried to silence it. It was Holly, fucking hell it was Holly! You pressed decline with a heavy heart, pressing your phone to your chest and listening to the defeaning silence that followed.
You were as stiff as a statue, hoping this just hadn't completely blown your cover. You strained your ears, your mouth going dry as frantic footsteps suddenly approached, a figure halting in front of your door.
Fuck, this was it. This was fucking it! You'd be shot down, maybe even worse- raped and beat up, while you thought about all the things you should have done in your dying moments. You should have hugged Holly extra tightly before you left, you shouldn’t have declined her call, you should have brought icecream for the kids today like you had planned but ultimatively decided against it in case hello kitty shaped incicles were too childish, you should have fucking confessed to Grace, goddamn it!
The door swung open and you shielded yourself with your arms, screaming your lungs out as the fear for your life crawled up your throat. You sobbed as your wrist was grabbed and your mouth was covered, your eyes closed tightly as you whimpered against the palm pressing against your lips.
"Shh, shh, it's okay" you heard the man whisper and your eyes flew open.
There, in front of you, was Grace. He was fine, he was alive, he had found you. Everything would be okay. Another sob tore from your trembling form, this time from pure relief, and you surged forward to hug him tightly.
The space in the supply closet was way too cramped now, barely enough room for you to keep a comfortable distance, but neither of you cared. You were both shaking and quitely sobbing into each others shoulder. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, could feel the tremble in his hands as he pulled back to cup your face, checking you for injuries you didn't have.
"You're okay" he breathed, his eyes closinh as if to take in that fact "You're okay, you're safe, I've got you" he wiped away your tears, though they continue to fall "I thought you were dead" you gasped helplessly, covering your mouth to stifle your sobs "I thought, when I heard the shots, I thought-" but you couldn't finish the sentence, the thought too cruel to voice out loud.
"I know, I know." He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you, and you buried your face in his neck and clung to him like he was the only solid thing in a world that had suddenly turned to water. Your head was tucked right beneath his chin, one of his arms around you while his hand held the back of your head securily against his chest "But I'm here. We're both here. We're going to be fine." you both knew that, even while you were together, if someone stormed in here with a gun, you wouldn't stand a chance. But it was nice to pretend, and even then, it felt like there wasn't a safer place in the universe than his arms.
"Where's Holly?" he asked you in a whisper, his breath tickling your hair. Your hand, which had slipped under his suit jacket to grasp his shoulders clad in a dress shirt, squeezed him at the question "She got sick, so I left her home today" you muttered, deeply sighing as you nuzzled into him, as if you could live under his skin and be safe there. "Thank god, that's what I call a blessing in disguise" he sighed.
Shots and screams continued to echo through the halls, each one making you flinch, and he held you tighter, his hand moving in soothing circles on your back. His voice was a low, steady murmur against your hair, telling you that the police were surely on their way right now, that everything would be okay, that you just had to hold on a little longer and you'd be able to hold your daughter in your arms again.
"They're kids" you whispered, and you felt Rylands arms tighten around you. "The principal said on the speakers- it's a group of students. Children" you said, unbelieving and shocked. You couldn't comprehent that Hollys classmates walked around with guns to, to what exactly? To gain respect, fear? Just because they thought it was funny? Disgust churned low in your belly and you cuddled closer to Grace "It's horrible"
You felt him nod against you "I know." He said, his voice cracked. "I know"
You stayed like that for what felt like hours, pressed together in the dark and small room, the only light source being the milky window in the door, your bodies melting into each other as your breathing evened out. Your hands were still tangled in his shirt, and one of his was buried in your hair. After a while, his fingers had begun to gently stroke your scalp in a gesture that felt almost unconscious, natural.
The silence you basked in was comfortable, as this quietness meant no more gunshots and no more injured people.
Then the speakers crackled to life again, and a deep voice spoke up "Attention, this is the New Jersey Police Department. The suspects have been apprehended. All personnel shall remain in lockdown or hideouts until further notice. We will begin clearing rooms shortly."
A sob of relief escaped your throat, and Ryland pulled back just enough to look at you. His glasses were fogged up, his eyes red-rimmed at the news, and his jaw was tight with the effort of holding himself together. He looked wrecked. He looked so beautiful.
"I can't do this anymore" he said, his voice was raw and desperate, and his hands flew up to cup your face. Your eyes grew wide then.
To Grace, this had been way too much of a close call. Fortunately school shootings were very rare in this area, this had been the first, but would it be the last? And would you two be lucky enough like today? No, he couldn't risk not telling you. He couldn't lose you without you knowing.
"I can't keep pretending I don't feel this. I can't keep sitting here until it's too late" he said, swallwing thickly, and you clung to his every word. "I know it's complicated, I know we're supposed to be professional, I know Holly is my student and your daughter and this could end badly in so many ways, but I don't care. I don't care, I just-"
You kissed him, like he had planned after his nervous rambling, but you beat him to it.
The kiss wasn't gentle, nor was it soft. It was the desperate and messy collision of two people who had been holding back for too long, who had almost lost each other before they ever had the chance to begin. His hands fisted in your hair, pulling you closer, and you moaned against his mouth as his tongue swept against yours, the wet muscle tasting of coffee and sour skittles.
"I thought you didn't want me" you gasped between kisses. "I thought I wasn't-"
He bit your bottom lip to cut you off "I've been so in love with you ever since you joined the school and I've been losing my mind trying to figure out how to tell you without making things weird for Holly, without scaring you away, without-"
"Shut up" you said, and kissed him again.His warm hands found the hem of your blouse, pushing it up, and you heard fabric tear but you didn't care. His mouth moved away from yours and down your throat, sucking marks into your skin that you knew you'd have to cover tomorrow, and you arched into him, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling hard enough to make him groan. "Please," you begged. "Ryland, please, I need-"
"I know" he nodded frantically, and his voice was wrecked, utterly ruined "I know what you need. I've been thinking about it for months- what you'd sound like, what you'd feel like, how you'd taste-" he cut himself off with a groan as his hand slipped into your slacks, past your panties, his fingers coming in contact with your slick wetness. "You're so wet" he breathed, leaning is forehead against your shoulder "Is this all for me? You wanted me too, all this time?"
You nodded at him, bucking into his hand "God, yes, Ryland, please-" you moaned, grasping his shoulders to keep him pressed against you. He fumbled with your belt, with the flimsy small button of your pants, his fingers clumsy and desperate.
His glasses slipped down his nose in his haste and he pushed them up impatiently, only for them to slide down again when you pulled him into another kiss. You laughed against his mouth, a giddy sound, like the dream you had since you were just a little girl had come true, like you had finally found your prince charming, and he laughed too, the both of you grinning like fools even as your hands worked frantically to undress the other.
You barely got your pants down to your knees before he was pressing you back against the wall, one hand braced against the cheap paneling to keep you from hitting a shelf full of cleaning supplies. His other hand pulled himself out of his jeans and guided his already rock hard cock to your entrance, and you felt the head of him slip between your lips as he teased himself, and you.
You squeezed your thighs around him as he slid back and forth against you to coat himself in your arousal and he moaned, positioning himself to catch on your pussy hole. "Yes" you hissed, biting your lip and looking up at the lightbulb that hung from cables off the ceiling "Yes, Ryland, please i-"
He pushed inside you in one slow, agonizing thrust, and you both moaned. God, it had been so long for you. You had tried to find a new boyfriend about a year after Hollys dad dipped and you never heard from him again, but you quickly realised the men weren't getting any less boring, or absolutly rude and off-putting, and you really just wanted another person to bring food on the table, instead of investing your limited energy on a real relationship.
You couldn't even remember the last time you had been dicked down, and Grace filled you completely, stretched you in a way that made your eyes roll back, and when he bottomed out, he stayed there for a moment, his forehead pressed against yours, both of you breathing hard. Fuck, did being filled always feel this fucking good? Or was it just because you were so desperate?
"You feel-" he shuddered, and his dick gave a pitiful throb against your cervix "so fucking good. I'm not going to last long. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just- it's been so long, and it's you, you feel so-"
You shook your head, grabbing his face "Don't apologize. I feel like I could cum just from this" you smiled with a sigh, lifting the worry off his shoulders. Once you made sure your back was stable enough against the shelf, you wrapped your legs around his waist, trusting his strong arms, which were too big for what was normal for a fucking middle school teacher, to hold you up "Just fuck me. Please. I need you to fuck me."
He choked up at the first thrust, quickly finding the rhythm of fucking you hard and fast and messy, his hips slamming into yours, the sound of skin against skin filling the tiny closet. The shelf behind you groaned in protest, and you felt it shift, felt yourself start to tilt even though you thought it was pretty sturdy, and then-
The shelf gave way.
You toppled sideways, both of you yelping, and Grace caught you, his arms wrapping around you as you both tumbled to the floor in a heap of tangled limbs and cleaning supplies. Seemed like the wood wasn't able to hold out Rylands desperate pounding after all, huh?
For a moment, you just laid there, breathless, and then you started laughing. It was the kind of laughter that bordered on hysterical, and it came from the sheer absurdity of it all- first a school shooting, then a rushed confession, and now a broken shelf, which you probably had to pay out of your own pocket to get it repaired- and this wonderful, awkward, brilliant man was still buried inside you through all of it, even as you laid tangled on the cold linoleum floor.
"Are you okay?" he asked, and he was laughing too, his face flushed, his glasses completely askew and his hair a disaster. "Did I hurt you? I'm probably crushing you" he smiled and was moving off of you, scared this had ruined your moment for good, but you stopped him.
"No, it's fine, really" you managed, and you pulled him down for another kiss, biting his top lip and pulling it gently "Don't stop. Please don't stop." you begged him, squirming beneath his weight.
Grace shifted with a relived sigh, adjusting his angle, and thrusted into you again, slower now, reaching deeper than before. His hand found yours on the floor, his long fingers intertwining with yours, and he fucked you like that- on your back, surrounded by nasty fallen mops that probably hadn't been used in ages, but you couldn't really think about it when he pounded into your sopping pussy so good, his lips pressing against your throat and whispering filthy things into your ear.
"You're so beautiful" he murmured, the whine that formed in his chest making your cunt gush "So fucking beautiful. I've wanted this for so long, I've wanted you, I've wanted to hear you moan my name, I've wanted to feel you come around my cock, oh my god!" he kept on rambling with a whiny voice, whimpering every time your pussy squeezed him. God, he was about to pass out if you kept doing that.
"Ryland-" you tried to warn him of your approaching orgasm, which built every time his pubic bone brushed up against your puffy and severely neglected kid, but the words died on your tongue when he hit that special spot inside you, making your whole body quiver.
"You feel so good" he continued, his voice breaking. "So perfect. I'm going to fill you up, I'm going to make you feel so good, I'm going to-" he couldn't finish his sentence before you came with a cry, your walls clenching around him, and he was so caught off guard by your pussy milking hin that he followed just a moment later, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep and spilled inside you with a broken yell.
You felt the warmth of his release, felt him pulse and throb against your inner walls, and you held him close, your legs locked around his waist, keeping him inside you even as he collapsed against you. You could only sigh in bliss at the feeling of being utterly filled, you hadn't had this in so long, and only now did you realise how much you missed it.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You stayed on the floor panting, sweaty and disheveled and covered in dust from the fallen shelf, listening to each other's breathing as it slowly steadied, your hand brushing through his unruly blonde locks.
"I meant it, by the way" he finally muttered, lifting his head to look at you. His eyes were soft, vulnerable, as they searched yours through the fogginess of his glasses. "Every word. This wasn't- I don't do this. I don't just sleep with people only for it to be a one time thing"
He slid out of you then with a sensitive groan, cleaning you as best as he could with the least dirty old rag he could find, each of you halfheartedly dressing yourself before you found your position in the back of the closet again when you had been cuddled together.
"I want to do this right" he muttered against your hair, your hands still joined "I want to take you on a date. A real date. Dinner, maybe a movie, maybe that planetarium show I've been talking about for weeks in class, but just us two. I want to do this properly."
You reached up and adjusted his glasses where they had slipped lower as he had nuzzled your head with his cheek, sliding them back into place on his nose with a fond smile. "I know you do." you said, giving his soft lips a quick peck.
"Will you let me?" he muttered against your lips, and there was a note of fear in his voice. "Will you let me take you on a date? Even with everything- Holly, the school, all of it, will you give me a chance?"
You kissed him properly then, soft and sweet, clearing his head of any doubt (and thought), and when you pulled back, he looked at you so lovingly it almost made you want to cry "Yes, I will."
The police found you about twenty minutes later, mostly dressed, slightly disheveled, and grinning like a pair of idiots. They guided you out of the building, past the yellow tape and the flashing lights. You were informed that a few of your colleagues and students had been slightly injured, but anything worse was luckily prevented.
Though most people suddenly seemed more intrigued by the fact you and Grace were holding hands instead of the fact thag a group of boys had just terrorized the school and could have killed someone.
You were so tired as the adrenaline wore out and you practically sagged against Grace, who wrapped you up in a thermo blanket a medical officer gave him, making you drink some water and sit down with him while the police still investigated the scene, bringing out more and more students from inside the school, unharmed.
You just wanted to see Holly again, hug her close and never let go.
After all, there were some good news you had to tell her.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
If anyone is wondering, yes, Holly, as in Holland Marchs daughter in The Nice Guys🤭 Not that Holland is the father who dipped, I'd rather imagine the guy is called Mark, but i love adding such easter eggs!
I hope this was a somewhat creative take on the whole Teacher!Grace x Teacher!Reader thing idk it's 2am guys help
Next up is lars with a single mom and her baby girl! But first, i'll go to sleep, lmk ur thoughts in the comments <3
