pt 2 to Piercings, thanks to everyone who asked for more of this one, I loooooove it hahaha
2.8k words, smut, reader has nipple piercings, fingering, ryland is nervous and sensitive
this is pure filth, enjoy ;)
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Ryland hadn’t mentioned the little show and tell session you’d given him for a few weeks. Everything fell back into your normal routine so easily, you almost forgot he’d held your tits in his hands and pulled on your nipples like he was studying your body, like your reactions were just as interesting as the metal barbells decorating your breasts. But the memory lingered just enough for you, playing over in your mind as you lay in bed each night, leaving you to soak through your panties and shamefully wipe away the evidence the next morning.
But then the plan was set to go fishing on Adrian, and your time was spent connecting chain links and pretending the work wasn’t mind numbingly boring. Ryland would sit on the floor, hands moving steadily, and you couldn’t help but imagine those nimble fingers reaching for other places he hadn’t seen yet. And he noticed your staring, he wasn’t blind to the fact that you both were dealing with the feelings that come with forced proximity, he knew you saw him staring too.
“Can I ask you a question?” Ryland starts, eyes focused on the chain in his hands. You hum and nod, stretching your arms over your head, trying to work out the knot forming between your shoulders. He looks up just in time to see how your back arches, the outline of your piercings pressing through your thin tanktop. You just smirk, prolonging your stretch to let him have his fill.
The last time he asked you that, he ended up with a handful of naked flesh and a newfound appreciation for body mods, so you wondered if he’d finally cracked. “Yeah?” You press after a lengthy pause, smiling when he makes a choked noise and finally makes eye contact with you. “Sorry,” he mumbles, his cheeks going red at being caught so obviously staring.
“I was just thinking about home,” he clears his throat, trying to push forward, “did you leave anyone behind? Any family? Or… a partner?” You set the chain down and sigh, shifting so you’re facing him fully. “No, my grandparents raised me, they both passed a few years before I joined the project,” you wave him off when he murmurs a quiet apology, “they were old, it was time.”
He sets his chain down too, giving you his full attention, his eyes sympathetic. “That’s basically my story too,” he gives you a small smile, stretching his leg out to poke your knee, maybe an attempt at comfort. “And your dating life?” He prods, ducking his head when you laugh. “Dating wasn’t really my thing,” you shrug, “I gave it a good too many tries, just couldn’t find someone I clicked with.”
He hums at that, tilting his head like he’s throwing too many thoughts around. “So you volunteered to save the world,” he winks. “Figured I might as well take a spot if it means someone with more to lose gets to stay home,” and you shift again, moving closer to him to connect your chains together.
It’s quiet for a minute, he just watches you work, helping to push the chain to the side when you’re done. “Can I tell you something?” He sounds nervous suddenly, like he just remembered that he finds you intimidating. You settle in front of him, nodding when you see how tense he is. “I can’t stop thinking about your piercings,” he whispers, eyes dropping to his hands like he’s admitting his greatest sin.
You can’t help the little laugh that slips out, piecing everything together quickly. “Well, you know I don’t have a partner waiting for me back home, you’ve already seen my tits, I wouldn’t entertain these conversations if I wasn’t interested,” your voice is steady, amusement peeking through. His head whips up, wide eyes meeting yours. “Yeah?” His voice is low, raspy, even.
A small nod and a smile from you has him shifting, scooting forward until he’s right in front of you on the floor of the lab. “I know where Stratt packed the condoms,” you murmur, laughing when he drops his head with a groan. “Should’ve known she prepared for this kind of thing,” he whispers, reaching for your hand slowly.
Long fingers wrap around yours, his thumb stroking over your knuckles before he stands and pulls you up with him. “You want to go that far?” He asks hesitantly, “to… to condom territory?” You push him backwards until he hits the wall, smiling at the startled noise he makes. “Ryland, I wouldn’t have mentioned them if I didn’t want to use them,” and you lean forward and kiss him. It takes him a few seconds to get his brain and body connected, like he didn’t think this was an option.
The thought makes you warm, he was being so patient because he didn’t want to push you into something you didn’t want, but in making you wait so long, you found yourself becoming desperate for his touch. He was putty in your hands the second Rocky outed you for having piercings, you think for a second that you should have just made a move back then because he was clearly as wanting as you were.
He kisses you back, his hands landing on your hips and his tongue slipping into your mouth with a quiet sigh. You pull back, taking in how soft he looks with his eyes closed and his lips slightly pursed. “Come on,” you step away, reaching for his hand again, “the condoms are in the bunkroom.” He bites his lip and nods, following you through the maze of xenonite tunnels running along the ship.
You drop his hand when you get there, stepping over to one of the medical supply bags stashed in a corner, and dig around until you find what you’re looking for. You rip one off and return to him, throwing it towards the pillow on your bunk, smiling when he watches it land with bated breath.
He jumps forward suddenly, cupping your face with both hands and kissing you so deeply it takes your breath away. He licks into your mouth desperately, letting out a moan when you return the kiss just as passionately. Your hands land on his biceps, squeezing the muscle under his sleeves with firm fingers. When he pulls away to suck in a breath, you push him back to the bed, settling him against the wall so you can climb in his lap.
Big blue eyes look up at you, his glasses fogging already. You slide them off his face, set them on the little shelf in the wall, and run a hand through his hair. The new angle makes you dizzy when you kiss him again, his fingers roving your thighs and hips, settling on your waist under your shirt. “God,” he whispers your name, gasping when you kiss down his jaw and neck, your teeth grazing his skin and making his hips twitch.
He pulls your shirt off with clumsy movements, plucking at the back of your bra until he gets the hooks open. You let him throw it to the floor, sitting up to see his face as he takes in your breasts again. It’s different this time, he doesn’t ask for permission to touch, just lifts his hands and cups you like he’s living out a dream he’s always had. His thumbs swipe over your nipples, fingers squeezing when you choke out a soft moan.
You can’t remember ever being looked at like this, his eyelids are hooded, his mouth slightly open, desire pouring out of him in waves. You feel his breath fanning over your skin, goosebumps rising and back arching when he leans forward. His tongue meets your nipple, twirling around the jewelry with a groan. The feeling makes your head tilt back, but you lift it quickly to keep watching him, the sight of his lips sealing over your breast sending heat straight to your core.
“Mm, my god,” he whines, licking and sucking until your hips roll against his. “Ry,” you sigh, hands tugging at his hair, encouraging him on. He laves his way across your chest, sucking your other nipple into his mouth, drooling over the barbell and licking up everything that leaks down your skin. He peers up at you from under his lashes, scraping his teeth over your bud lightly, groaning when you grind down on him harder.
His hands hold you tightly, fingers flexing against your ass and helping you move. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that,” he growls, nipping at your neck when you huff a laugh. “Do you want to?” You ask, pulling his head back so you can see him. He’s flushed, his lips swollen and red, eyes shining up at you like he’s right where he wants to be. You watch him think, see how he glances down at the condom laying beside him. He looks back to you with his brows raised, something needy and helpless flashing over his face.
“Or do you want to come in me?” You whisper, smiling when he nods quickly, a whine falling from his lips. You pet a hand down his cheek, tugging at his shirt and swinging your leg over him so you can stand. He stands with you, shedding his clothing in a flash, freezing when he sees how you’re staring at him with your lip between your teeth. “Hey,” he mumbles, bringing a hand to your neck and pulling you into a long, intense kiss. Big hands push your pants and underwear down, helping you step out of them and ghosting over your skin. “You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, punctuating it with another kiss, smiling into it when you melt under him.
You shove his boxers down, grinning when he groans, and stroke gentle fingers over his length. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he sighs, eyes closing and head falling forward. “You’re really pretty too,” you whisper in response, making his hips thrust on their own. “Lay down for me,” he pulls your hand away, chest heaving with the effort.
He plucks the condom off the bed, watching as you stretch out and put on a little show for him. You squeeze your breasts, pinching at your nipples with a moan, your head pressing into the pillow. Your fingers slide down, down, down to your soaking center, sliding through your slick and circling your clit until your back arches. When he doesn’t move, you turn to him, question in your eyes. “Keep going,” he reaches for your hand between your legs, “stretch yourself out, baby.”
You can’t help the gasp that escapes at his words, the firm grip he has on your wrist guiding your fingers right to your entrance. He shifts for a better view when you sink two fingers in, his hand setting the pace for you. “That’s it,” he groans, “listen to you.” The sounds of your wet pussy fill the room, he pushes your leg down and out of the way so he can get closer.
Like he can’t take it anymore, he pulls your hand out and wraps his lips around your fingers, sucking off the evidence of your arousal as his eyes roll back. He lays your hand down on your chest, trailing his fingers back down and over your mound, dipping into your wetness with a sound deep in his chest. He pushes two in, eyes watching your face as he pumps slowly, his palm bumping your clit with every thrust.
The whole scene is filthy, Ryland standing beside the bed, fingering you into oblivion while you writhe and moan. His other hand comes down to press along your hips, keeping you in place so he can search for the spot inside you that he knows will make you break. He’s patient, curling his fingers and feeling along your walls until you buck up into him, sparks shooting out from your core when he zeros in on it.
Your hips grind into him, a loud moan pulling from you as your legs shake. “Ry,” you gasp out, “Ry, I’m close.” He nods, letting up on your waist to bring his hand to your clit. “Let me hear you,” he whispers, dropping his head to suck your nipple back into his mouth. A quiet please slips from your lips and your back arches, heat pulsing through you, your walls gripping his fingers harder with every thrust. He whispers against your skin, tells you how beautiful you look, how warm you feel around him, how perfect you’re doing.
You relax into the mattress with a sigh, giggling when Ryland smiles up at you with your piercing in his mouth. You run a hand through his hair, tugging him up for a kiss and looping your arms around his neck. He goes easily, lets you rest for a moment, leaning over you with his hands caging you in. When you separate, he gives you a soft look. “You got one more for me?” He asks with a grin, fingers reaching for your nipple again when you nod. He pinches and pulls, laughing when you swat him away.
He rips the condom open, rolling it on his now very hard length, chest heaving as he gives himself a few pumps. Finally, he climbs over you, kneeing your legs apart enough to make himself comfortable. He hovers for a second, checking you over one more time before he lines up and pushes in with a broken groan. His head drops to your shoulder immediately, he’s barely got the tip in and he’s already losing it.
You rub his back, kiss his cheek, try to relax so you’re not so tight around him. “Feel good, baby?” You whisper to him, smiling when he whimpers against your neck. “Take your time, there’s no rush,” you stroke his hair, gasping when he pushes in another inch. It rips a cry from him again, a quiet “fuck” muffled against your skin.
With a deep breath and an obviously strengthening resolve, he slides the rest of the way in, panting and groaning, planting messy kisses to your neck and chest to distract himself. He gets his mouth back around your nipple, rolling his hips in time with his tongue. The stretch is incredible, you feel his tip nudge your spot with each push in, your hips shifting to meet him. “So good, Ry,” you breathe, feeling how the praise puffs him up a little.
“Feel you so deep,” you keep talking, knowing he needs it right now. He slips his hand down to rub your clit, groaning when you clench down on him. “Keep doing that,” you sigh, “god, your mouth is so good.” He bites your nipple, pulls at the jewelry with his lips, looking up at you again with blown out pupils. He shudders when you scratch down his back, speeding up his thrusts just a bit. “Y’ so warm,” he groans, “so tight.”
You know he’s not going to last much longer, so you pinch at your other nipple, helping build your orgasm faster for him. He sees you do it and whines, his saliva dripping down your breast like he can’t help but drool from the pleasure. Your moans jump an octave, you feel the warmth gathering in your core, spreading down your legs with each circle of his fingers on your clit. “I’m right there,” you whisper, throwing your head back as the edge creeps closer.
He keeps his pace, feeling how you clench in rhythm, adding little grinds against that spot inside you with each thrust. “Now,” you cry, your body tensing and shaking under him. The sweet waves of ecstasy pull you under, the heat shooting all the way up to your head, making your eyes roll back with a moan. You hear him whine, feel his hips stutter before he slams all the way in and grinds a few times, trying to draw it out for both of you. The quiet of the bunkroom settles back in, nothing but the sound of your heavy breaths filling the silence.
You rub his back again, pull him down so he’s laying on your chest. He drops willingly, wrapping his arms under your back. Neither of you speak for a few minutes, just basking in the physical touch you’ve both been so deprived of for years. Your eyes are heavy, you think he might be falling asleep on top of you, but you don’t feel the need to disturb him, not now.
“Was that mating ritual?” Rocky’s robo voice sounds from the doorway, making you and Ryland jump. “Jesus, Rock,” Ryland grumbles, scrambling to cover you with as much of the sheet as he can pull up. You laugh, letting him try to save your decency. “He can see through our clothes,” you murmur lowly, giggling when he freezes and looks at you.
“Rocky want to know more. Grace explain ritual now, statement.”
Ryland groans and buries his face in your chest again, “later, statement.”
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"and the whimpering is part of the ritual?" - rocky, probably
. ݁₊ ♡ྀིྀི ·͙ miguel is always under a lot of stress. of course he is. as leader of a society of super beings and in charge of maintaining infinite amounts of universes, that’s a bomb load of stress and it sounds utterly dreadful. you, his assistant, have witnessed it all and you can’t do anything about it. the man is stubborn as hell and refuses any advice given to him. lyla has tried many times and it always ends the damn same, absolute refusal.
you understand the stress he’s undergoing. although you’re not a spiderperson yourself but being in charge of literally every fucking reality is stressful and you feel dreadful thinking about it.
you and miguel have an interesting relationship. if you would consider it a relationship. you’re not exactly friends but he’s comfortable enough to talk you about things he doesn’t talk about with others like peter b or jessica.
“chingada madre…”
oh you know that phrase by heart now. there’s never a day when miguel says that famous phrase.
stepping foot into his office, you walk over to him since his desk wasn’t levitating. usually he does to avoid anyone but you informed him of your arrival.
“what happened this time?” your voice was so monotone, unimpressed actually.
“another peter parker almost caused a canon disturbance.” oh he sounds really pissed off. the audible irritation in his voice.
“yikes.” much not enthusiasm.
you approach closer towards him. his broad back to you, head lowered. it’s obvious he’s pinching the bridge of his nose. you know him too well.
“i swear, sometimes i regret recruiting certain people.” miguel grumbles.
“the glories of being leader, huh?” you snort.
“cállete.” he shoots a side glare at you.
“you need to chill, man.”
“you think i’m capable to chill?” he scowls.
you shrug, unaffected by his pissed off attitude. “maybe, if you’d listen to lyla about relaxing.”
miguel scoffs, rolling his eyes. “i can’t relax, tonta. i can’t with all this shit on my shoulders.” he plants his hands flat on the desk, staring at the screens.
you roll your eyes too. this dude really needs to relax, even for five minutes before he erupts like a volcano. then suddenly, an imaginary light bulb on your head lights up. an idea, a very interesting idea.
“you need a stress reliever.”
you get a side-eye from him. “no, i don’t.”
“que si, tonto. you need to relieve all that stress.”
miguel turns his head to the side, looking at you. “yeah, con que?” he asked curtly.
you ponder for a moment. then, another light bulb lights up. “you need a stress ball.”
oh now you peaked his interest. one thick brow raised in curiosity. “a stress ball?”
“yes.” you nod nonchalantly.
“what kind of stress ball?” he pushed further.
a mischievous smirk forms on your face as you push up your chest. folding your arms over to put emphasis on it, hoping he gets the message.
his brows furrowed in confusion. miguel studies your face then noticed your strange posture. mahogany eyes land on your emphasized chest. thanks to your slightly low cut blouse, there’s a sneak peek of your cleavage. his eyes widen in shock.
“¿estas loca?” he sounds utterly in disbelief. face feeing hot, cheeks burning.
“maybe but it’s an option.” you smirk.
miguel is utterly speechless. heart pounding in his rib cage. cheeks practically burning. you literally just offered your boobs as stress balls for him. how the fuck is he gonna comprehend that? his personal assistant, someone he secretly cares about and has unsure feelings for, is offering her boobs to him.
“this- this isn’t right. we- i shouldn’t.” he stutters, averting your gaze due to shyness.
you roll your eyes. “oh come on, miguel. it’s just a one time thing. i’m offering you a method to help you relieve stress. it’s not like we’re committing a crime.”
“no but it feels like one! you can’t just offer your body to someone as a stress reliever!”
“consider it as a trade. you get a stress reliever and i get a titty message. besides they’ve been achy.”
miguel stares at you completely dumbfounded. eyes wide and mouth hung open. he turns away for a moment to think about this crazy trade. he really shouldn’t accept because he doesn’t want to use your body for his own benefit. it feels wrong, no it is wrong. you’re his assistant, not his lover.
now he’s stressed out about this.
are you really okay with this? offering him to use you? you said it’s a one time thing. just do it and get it over with.
it shouldn’t be so bad, right?
with a heavy sigh, he turns around but doesn’t meet your gaze. “fine. just this once.” he points a finger.
“told you.” you snicker and he groans. “now be a good boy and sit on the chair.”
his eyes widen at the pet name. he can’t deny his cock twitching in his suit at that. left completely speechless, miguel obeys and sits down. with a smirk on your face, you walk over to him. his heart raced in chest, pounding like crazy in anticipation. cheeks burning up as you get closer. you silently sit in his lap without warning, straddling him. oh fuck. his eyes shoot wide open and cock twitches. unlike miguel, you seem normal about it. that same smirk on your face. your hands remain in your lap.
“well… go on.” you encourage him.
how the fuck can he go on?
you’re literally sitting on his lap and face merely inches apart. he fights the biggest urge to grab your waist.
his eyes glance down at your chest. the baby pink blouse concealing the stress balls awaiting him. “are you sure about this?” he asked hesitantly.
“yes, i’m sure. you need a stress ball, or should say stress balls.” you chuckle.
miguel still finds it unbelievable this is happening. “should i uh… should i take… it off?” his eyes glance towards your blouse.
“yeah, just don’t rip it off.”
sallowing a big gulp, shaky hands reach up towards the top button of your blouse. miguel slowly unbuttons each one, still a nervous reck. each undone button, he catches a snippet of your breasts. his breath gets caught in his throat when he fully unbuttons your blouse, your bra revealed to him.
he bites back a groan seeing how the cups of your bra hug your breasts graciously. your cleavage presented like a gift to him. fuck he feels himself growing hard. those shaky hands slowly reach towards your breasts. your eyes follow them, anticipation flowing through your veins. both of you sigh as his hands touch your breasts. only a light touch of his skin and your heart goes berserk.
his hands are so big, one tit fits one palm so perfectly. in fact, they’re way bigger than your breasts. they cover them entirely, your chest. he gently cups them, making you inhale sharply. his cock twitches at the feeling of your tits in his hands. very slowly, miguel gives them a light squeeze. you exhale softly, lashes fluttering. he then starts kneading very slowly and gently. relishing the squishiness in his palms.
he feels relaxed suddenly. perhaps it is working. miguel is so mesmerized he starts applying a bit of pressure, kneading and squeezing them more. you fight back whimpers and moans. fuck his hands feel so good. he noticed your slightly trembling form and that tells him you’re enjoying this too. desperate to hear those noises, miguel kneads your tits with more pressure. now playing with them for his pleasure. considered he’s relaxed and the stress fade away. you couldn’t prevent a soft moan falling from your lips when miguel pushes your breasts together and give them a firm squeeze. your back arched instinctively, leaning into his touch. you can feel yourself growing wet, panties damped.
that eggs miguel on. the sweet sound going straight to his cock. his hands continued playing with your soft tits. watching the round fat move in his palms makes him salivate, licking his lips in hunger. giving into temptation, miguel buried his face in your cleavage, in the valley of your breasts and plants hot open-mouth kisses on the soft skin. another moans spills from your lips. your hands land in his hair, fingers digging into his brown curls. the mixture of his lips and hands on your breasts makes your mind hazy.
“miguel~” you moan as you feel his tongue sliding over the round surface of your breast. eyes rolled back in your head and back arched as you grind against his raging erection.
he hums contently as he continues his affectionate attack on your delicate tits. oh yeah the stress is long gone and replaced with pleasure and desire. his hips rolls into yours as you both grind against each other like horny teenagers. so crazy but feels so good. feeling utterly satisfied, miguel moves away from your breasts and leans back against the chair. his hands come down to your waist, holding you still. your pants echo in the room. both flushed faces and cores burning with want and desire.
“so… you stress relieved?” you ask breathlessly, lashes fluttering and chest heaving.
“yeah… but there’s something else that’s need relief.”
author’s note: and what if i told you that i immediately started planning this out right after i finished the first part?? thank you so much for all the love on the first part of this fic. i haven't written many fanfics or smut before my phm journey, but i've been having the most fun with this blog. if there are any typos, i'm sorry. i hope you enjoy it :)
warnings: mdni 18+, smut. oral (both f & m receiving) fingering, p in v sex, no condom, (pls use protection!) ryland dirty talks like a mf because i said so and i enjoy it.
the walk to the apartment felt like ages. your body was buzzing with anticipation, and the grip ryland had on your hand as he led you home had you imagining how else he takes charge when you give him something he wants. you barely made it two steps into the elevator before ryland had you pushed up against the wall, slotting his thigh between your legs.
"you're still sure about this? cause once we start, i don't think i can stop." his forehead rests on yours, and you nod your head, rolling your hips against his thigh. your skirt is giving him easy access to your throbbing cunt. you rolled your hips again, but ryland, ever the gentleman, grabbed your hips to stop you in your tracks.
"verbal yes, baby. i need to hear you say it," you truly have never had a man look at you the way ryland does. you don't know how he manages to look at you with the full of love and lust at the same time. "yes, ryland. please," you try to wiggle, and he pushes his thigh higher up, moving your hips for you against him. "that's it baby. get yourself off on thigh," you whine at his words. god, he sounded so dirty talking to you like this. you were growing wetter by the second, ruining his pants with the growing wet spot.
"mmhm, we're gonna get- fuck- caught, ry," you said, but he dipped his head down to kiss along your neck, sucking and nipping softly onto a spot before soothing it with his tongue. and with that, the elevator dings, doors beginning to open to your floor, and ryland begrudgingly pulls his thigh away from you.
"m'gonna do this right. gonna take my time with you," he's kissing your neck, arms wrapped around you, while you guide both of you down the hall to your day. you're fumbling to pull your keys out of your jacket pocket, his hands running up your bare legs, massaging your thighs.
you finally find the right key, almost place it in the keyhole, just as ryland dips his hand between your thighs, fingers barely grazing the edge of your panties. "already too needy to function, huh?" his mouth is at your ear, and the degrading tone makes your head dizzy. the door swings open, and you both stumble in. you push ryland up against the door, your lips brush against his. "you're such a fucking tease," you try to sound tough, but you're so desperate for him. you're finally gotten a taste of him, and now you're hooked.
you bring your lips to his and its messy and hot. his licking into your mouth, his hands kneading your ass, as your hands slide down the front of his body to palm him over his pants. he moans into your mouth, and you take it as a green light to begin unbuttoning his pants, slipping your hand into them. you need to feel him, taste him. you pull away from the kiss, breathless, and ryland watches as you sink down to your knees.
"sweetheart, you don't have to-" you interrupt him, pulling his underwear down to free his cock. to say ryland has the most beautiful dick you've ever seen in your life is an understatement. he's big, thick, with a long, prominent vein running along the underside of him. his tip is red, leaking with precum, and your mouth waters.
"you have such a beautiful cock ryland," you kiss the tip of him, licking the small amount of his cream that is left on your lips. ryland feels like he could die from the sight of you, but then the next thing you do sends him over the edge. he watches your hand trail between your legs, disappearing beneath your skirt, into your panties. you let out a little moan, and he sees your hand moving in circles underneath your skirt. you pout, instinctively, as you take your hand back out, then wrap it around his cock and begin pumping him.
ryland whimpers, hips bucking into your hand, and he shuts his eyes. he needs a second to recover from the sight of you using your own slick lube up his cock. you take his tip into your mouth, tongue swirling around him. his hand finds your hair instantly, and he gently nudges your head forward. almost as if he's too scared to ask for more. "i need you to fuck my throat, ry," you look so sinful on your knees for him, looking at him with your big, innocent eyes through fluttering lashes. he nods, never realizing he wanted something so much as the idea of him using your throat.
you stare into his baby blue eyes, as open your mouth, slapping his cock against your tongue. he gently, cups your face in his hands. it feel so soft and intimate, the way his hands caress your face. but you take a deep breath through your nose, relax your jaw, and ryland slowly slips himself inside your mouth. the noises that leave him are angelic, and you can feel yourself growing wetter with every one. he feels you gag around him slightly, and a tear falls from you eye.
he gives you a second to collect yourself before he starts moving again, slowly moving his hips. your nose touches his neatly trimmed pubes, cock completely disappearing in his mouth and his cock twitches. you moan around him and it only edges him on more.
"doing so good for me, honey. such a good fucking girl for me," his eyes are shut as he chokes the words out. he knows he won't last much longer, and he's trying to prolong this experience for as long as he can. he can't fathom how he's gone this long without your lips around him, and he knows he never wants anyone else to be on their knees in front of him for the rest of his life.
he's a moaning, whimpering mess, and the fact that you're the reason he's this fucked out has absolutely ruined your panties. with one last thrust, he's spurting ropes of cum down your throat, and you swallow every last bit of it. he pulls himself out, a string of spit connecting your mouth to his cock, a reminder of the best head he's ever had in his life.
he laughs, pulling you up to your feet, and wiping away the tears that have fallen down your cheeks. he brings you into a kiss, and he can still taste himself on you. you lean in, deepening it even more. ryland steps out of his pants, leaving his jeans and briefs discarded at the door, and lifts you up. you wrap your legs around him, trying to find some friciton how he had you in the elevator. you figured he was guiding you into one of your rooms, but the walk is much shorter than expected, and you're taken by surprise when he plops you onto the couch.
'gotta return the favor," the smirk painted on his lips makes you clench around nothing, and he's the one sinking to his knees, as he settles between your legs. he spreads you apart, hiking up one of your legs up on the couch, the other thrown over his shoulder. he pulls you closer to him, and you let out a little yelp, as he manhandles you into a position for him to devour you.
he places a kiss on the inside of your thighs, and you let out the quietest little moans at each one. it isn't until he places a kiss on the wet spot of your underwear that he says something. "i've heard you before, sweetheart. i'm gonna need you to be so much louder than that." your mouth falls agape at his words. you look down at him, brows furrowed. "what do you me- fuck- ry," he drags his tongue over your covered cunt, your hips lifting slightly off the couch, hands finding his hair.
"the walls are pretty thin in this apartment, you know." his fingers slip into the waistband of your skirt, and panties, slipping them off in one go. you realize what he means. he’s heard you get yourself off at night, even though you’ve tried hard to keep quiet. you’re too needy to even be embarrassed right now, especially with him so close to you. his eyes meet the sight of your glistening pussy, and ryland moans. he brings two fingers to run through your folds, and he knows he's ruined already.
"this all for me, sweetheart?" his fingers now circling your clit, and you wine. his touch is too light, too slow, and the overwhelming feeling of need is consuming you. your try to wiggle your hips closer to him, but his other hand holds your steady on the couch. "mhm, not yet. not until you tell me what you think about when you play with this gorgeous pussy of yours."
this is how you die, you think, at the merciless hands of dr.ryland grace and his incessant teasing. you try to formulate words, but everything just turns into a needy whine. your body burns with the need to feel his lips on you. it's like he can read your mind, and in the most sinister way, begins placing gentle kisses on your clit. "c'mon, where's that fiesty girl now, hmm?"
"you ryland, i think of you!" it comes out as a cry, and he rewards you with licking a stripe up your pussy. the pressure of his tongue on you feels unreal. he buries his face deeper into your pussy, doing figure eights on your clit with his tongue. "see, that wasn't so hard was it?" and the sight of him is heavenly. his facial hair and lips, glistening from your juices, glasses fogged up and crooked on his face, his hair a mess from you pulling on it.
he slides one finger into you, and arch off the couch. your hips searching for his body, and ryland loved the feeling of goth walls constricting around his finger. he pumps in and out of you slowly, memorizing every single movement you make, and every hitch of your breath. he places a kiss on right at the top of your mound, before slipping another finger into you.
“is this what you thought about, baby, you falling apart on my fingers and my mouth?” he brings his lips around your clit again. the stimulation of everything is too much and you can feel your orgasm building. you nod your head, trying to push his head further it between your thighs. he’s captivated by slick, how it drips down his fingers, the sound of his fingers pumping in and out of you.
“anybody else ever get you this wet baby? hmm? could that stupid ex boyfriend of yours make you feel this good?” he curls his fingers inside of you, hitting the spot inside you that makes you see stars and your walls flutter again. you feel the coil tightening in your lower stomach, ready to snap at any moment. "i bet he couldn't even get you to cum with just his fingers before, huh. didn't treat my baby how she deserved."
“just you- your- mmpmh- so good,” you begin playing your nipples, pinching and twisting them to help bring you closer to your orgasm, and ryland whines into you as you he watches you fondle yourself. he speeds up his fingers, and before you know it, your thighs close around his head, your orgasm ripping through you. ryland has to hold you down with his other hand, as he laps up every ounce of cum you give him.
you hands reach for him and the stupid smug smirk on his face makes your heart flutter. you pull him down into a kiss. teeth clashing, a kiss full of need and desperation like you’ve never felt before. ryland picked you up from the couch, your legs wrapping around him as he carried you into his room.
he sits you down on his bed, pulling your shirt off before laying you down on his pillows. he’s dreamed about having you like this, naked, ready for him in his bed. you tug at the hem of his shirt, signaling him to take it off. he obliges, and you mouth falls open at hoe hit ryland is.
“may i?” his voice is soft, as he looks down at your chest and you nod. he pushes you back against his pillows, his big hands immediately begin fondling your breasts. he lowered himself, putting one of your nipples in your mouth, while the other one being teased by his hand. he took turns between your breasts giving them equal attention, and leaving a trail of hickeys all around your breasts.
he kisses up your chest, to your lips again, and you feel him smile. “ryland, baby,” you coo, tucking your finger under his chin to get him to look at you. he hmms looking into your eyes softly, “i’m gunna need you to hurry up and fuck me now,” you say, and he laughs.
“you’re so bossy,” he smiles, following you to hover over you. he leans over, opening the drawer of his nightstand digging around for what feels like an eternity. “no, no, no,” ryland cries, flipping onto his back next to you defeated.
“hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, peppering kisses on his face. “i don’t have any condoms. i’m sorry, i didn’t realize it’s been that long.” he covers his face with his hands. smiling you get up, throwing your leg over him to straddle him. "orrr you can just fuck me like this?” you pull his hands away from his face, pinning them down at the side of his head. a whimper leaving him, “are you trying to kill me?”
“no, of course not.” you say sweetly, kissing the tip of his nose. of course he want to feel you with no barriers, but he doesn’t want to pressure you into anything. you can see he’s searching your eyes to make sure you aren’t playing with him. “i’m clean, i’m on the pill…” you trail off, your lips finding his ear.
“okay but at least let me…” he trails off trying to sit up, but you gently push him back down. “mm mm, mr. grace,” you grind down on him, and you see him give up any fight. “you’re letting me ride you tonight,” you bring him into a kiss and his hands find your hips. you line yourself up with him, slowly sinking down into his cock. the stretch is unbelievably delicious, and you can feel every inch of him. “fuck ry, so big,” you cry out.
ryland eyes are shut behind his glasses, trying to summon all his strength to not cum right then and there. you’re feel so tight around him, and it’s better than anything he pictured, “such a perfect pussy, taking all of me so well.”
you squeeze around him at his words, and start picking up the pace of your hips. the room fill with the sounds of skin slapping, and the wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you. and ryland is mesmerized at the sight of his cock disappearing inside of you, one of hands coming over to rub your clit.
“you look so pretty falling apart on my cock, darling,” the moans and cries coming out of are like music to ryland’s ears. how good you feel around him and how perfect you two fit together is an all consuming feeling. l
“oh fuck,” you whine, and he can feel your rhythm getting sloppier. you’re thighs must be tiring as you chase your high. “want me to take over, honey?” he leans up, placing a few kisses along your chest again and you nod. he plants his feet on the mattress and begins fucking up into you. you’re a babbling mess on top of him, and he feels his cock twitch inside of you. he’s not gunna last much longer. and he’s repeatedly hit that spongy spot inside of you so he knows you’re orgasm is close behind.
“fill me up ryland please. cum inside me,” your eyes are filling with tears, begging him. and the sight of tears falling down your face has ryland cumming inside of you almost immediately. he grips your ass, as you cum around his cock, walls fluttering around him. your ride out your high, and collapse on top of ryland.
he kisses the top of your head, running up and down your back. “you okay?” he asks, in that sweet caring voice of his. “more than okay,” you wince as he slips out of you. you feel his warmth leave your side and you pout, but you sure did enjoy watching him walk into the bathroom.
he comes back out, holding a damp washcloth and begins cleaning you up. he’s gentle, and every time you wince cause you’re sensitive, he kisses your inner thigh. he crawls back into bed, pulling you close to him. you lay there chest to chest, smiling like two love sick idiots.
“does this mean i’m officially dr. ryland grace’s girl?” his whole body flushes, tucking a stand of hair behind your ear, and cupping the side of your face. “only if you want to be. but i would really like it if you were.” how could he look so shy like he wasn’t just balls deep inside of you minutes ago?
“i would love to,” you say, kissing him one last time before nuzzling next to him and drifting off to sleep.
Can we please bring back buttons PLEASE can we bring back buttons BUTTONS PLEASE for the love of god BUTTONS THAT YOU PRESS DOWN AND CAN FEEL IT BEING PRESSED buttons please buttons can we bring them back can we PLEASE can we please bring back the buttons
parents will be like “you’ve changed” and it’s just you started doing the things that make you comfortable that you always wanted to do but was too scared to express your wants and needs
sometimes u headcanon a character as a sexuality but then also ship things that contradict that. sometimes you ship things you would NEVER EVER want in canon. this is because these things are fun and silly and not legally binding.
One day, a while after they first meet and they actually have some down time to ask random, unnecessary questions, Rocky asks fem reader what the attachments are that he can see on her upper torso and/or between her legs. Turns out reader has nipple and/or clit piercings, and thanks to Rocky, that fact has just been broadcasted 👀 .... Maybe even triggers some curiosity in a certain someone 👀👀👀?
I didn't mean for this to be so long but I guess I can't write a drabble LOL thank you for the request!!
Piercings ~ ryland grace x reader
1.5k words, suggestive touching but no smut
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A few weeks cohabitating with your new alien companion passed relatively easily, building his language library and plotting to save two worlds, you know, normal stuff. A lot of time was spent sitting around thinking, brainstorming and running calculations and trying to hold on to the hope that you were the right people for this mission.
You and Ryland sit on opposite sides of the table in the lab, Rocky sitting between you behind his xenonite walls. It’s been quiet for a few minutes, Ryland scribbling on a whiteboard and erasing everything, just to write it all again. You were reading through some files you found in a box marked “important,” figuring that someone put that label there for a reason.
Finally, Rocky’s robotic voice sounds from the laptop open on a bench, “why friend have metal in ears, question?” You turn to him, ignoring the confused face Ryland makes, and pull your hair over your shoulder. A few small studs adorn your ears, Stratt sent you to space with plastic retainers in, but let you bring the titanium pieces to wear when you woke up. “They’re jewelry,” you explain casually, “little decorations we wear.”
Ryland leans forward to see, apparently not having noticed in the haze of your overwhelming mission. “Like celebration clothing, question?” Rocky asks, tapping a foot on the ground. “Sort of, we do have nicer pieces for events, but these are very plain.” You tug at your lobe a little, playing with the stud.
You think the conversation is over, so you turn back to your work, glancing at Ryland to see that his head is already down, hand moving quickly across his whiteboard again.
“Two bars on your front also decoration, question?”
You close your eyes, realizing just how much he was able to see through. You open again to see Ryland looking at you with his eyebrows raised, eyes flicking around your face and ears, trying to spot the jewelry he missed. Heat rises to your face, your hand covering your mouth for a moment before you turn back to Rocky.
“Yeah, uh- yeah, those are also decorations,” you hope that’s a good enough answer but you know it’s not going to satisfy his curiosity.
“Even if not visible, question?”
You nod, flashing him a tight smile, and shuffle through the papers in your folder. “Why, question?” Yep, you knew that was coming. You take a deep breath, knowing that Ryland is watching you closely, dissecting everything you say with a frown on his face. “Sometimes,” you start, “we get jewelry that’s just for us to see. It helps with confidence and stuff…” How eloquent, you think to yourself.
Rocky seems to accept that answer, but when you spare a glance at Ryland you catch him staring at your breasts. He makes a choked sound and goes red, averting his eyes quickly. It pulls a laugh from you, maybe you should have expected that kind of reaction from him, maybe he was a little more sheltered on earth than you thought.
He puts his hand up, muttering a quiet, “sorry, sorry,” under his breath.
~~
A few days pass uneventfully, Ryland was a little more awkward than normal but other than that you think you escaped that conversation unscathed. Until you walk into the lab and he whips around in his chair and clears his throat.
“Can I… Can I ask you something completely unprofessional?” He asks meekly, like he knows he’s pushing a boundary but he just can’t help it. You frown and nod, taking a seat across from him. He takes a deep breath, blowing it out slowly like he needs it to build courage. “I was just thinking about that conversation you had with Rocky, about your earrings…”
Ah, of course. He loses steam, suddenly realizing what he’s about to ask so impulsively. “Do you… do you have your…” a little hand gesture against his own chest trying to say what his mouth won’t.
“My nipples pierced?” You smile when he balks, “yes, I do.”
He holds eye contact, it’s clear he’s practicing restraint though, because his eyes dip just a little before shooting back to yours. He’s bright red, looking like a deer in headlights. “Really?” He sounds… excited? That’s interesting.
You nod with a hum, giving him your full attention. “Go ahead, Grace, ask your questions,” you lay the invite out on the table, giving him permission to be curious.
“Can I see them?”
Okay, you didn’t expect that. It’s your turn to balk, your mouth dropping open and a breath catching in your throat. He’s looking at you expectantly, face the perfect picture of innocence. “I - you - what?” You stammer out, trying to wrangle your surprise down long enough to hear him out.
“I’ve never seen any in person,” he gives a shy little smile, “just wondering what they look like up close.”
You don’t think your brows can get any higher, you search his face for any ulterior motive. “You said I could be unprofessional,” he adds with his hands raised.
He lets you think, lets you wrestle with the fact that you’re the only two people in space, knows that he’ll see them eventually just by the forced proximity you’re both stuck in. Finally, you nod.
His eyes go wide, not expecting you to agree so easily. You wave him over, patting the stool next to yours with a wide grin. “Come on, if I’m your education on this, you might as well be closer,” you laugh when he jumps up and all but runs to the seat.
You unzip your jumpsuit enough to slide your arms out, pulling the straps of your tanktop and bra down. You feel warm under his gaze, embarrassed already and you’re not even showing anything. He sits patiently, eyes excited and teeth digging into his lip. You swear you’ve never seen a man so thrilled to just look.
With a deep breath, you pull the fabric down so it bunches around your stomach, baring your breasts to him. His eyes go impossibly wider, his breathing speeding up as he takes in the sight. Look, you didn’t get them pierced to never show them off, that was like the whole point of having it done. But the way he tilts his head, studying the barbells framed by your plush skin, makes your stomach flip.
His fingers drum on the table, a quiet, “god,” falling from his lips. You laugh, “you’ve gotta say more than that,” you feel a little like an experiment under his microscope.
Finally, “do they hurt ever?” You shake your head, “they’ve been healed for years.” A short nod from him, then, “they really suit you.” He glances up at your face, smirk pulling at one side of his lips. You see his hand fist in his pants, see how he fights against the fabric to hold himself back, to maintain some semblance of professionalism.
You let out a small giggle, watching his eyes fly right back to your chest, watching how you move. “You’ve never seen any in person?” You ask quietly. He shakes his head, biting his lip again. “Go ahead, you can touch ‘em,” and you’re not sure where that came from but the look on his face tells you it was the right thing to say.
He searches your eyes quickly, finding you open and free of resistance, and slowly lifts his hand to cup your breast. Your breath hitches at how cold his fingers are, but then he strokes a thumb over your piercing and suddenly you feel incredibly warm. His other hand joins, nimble fingers holding the barbells and pulling lightly.
You make a sound, it’s quiet and completely involuntary, but it makes him grin. “Sensitive,” he whispers, “are they more sensitive after being pierced?” Ever the scientist, you think. “Not more, just… different.” Your answer satisfies him, his fingers brushing your skin softly before he pulls away.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you briefly wonder how it would feel against your nipples, if he’d like how the metal felt when he licked over the jewelry. Finally, he smiles at you, hands retreating to the safety of his lap. “Pretty,” he whispers, “the piercings are nice too,” he winks with a smirk, laughing when you glare at him and pull your top back up.
You push his shoulder, shoving him off his chair and shooing him to the other side of the table. He retreats easily, clearly having gotten what he wanted. “Well, was it everything you expected?” You ask lightly, glad for the easy comfort that settles over the room.
He twists his face in thought, like he’s puzzling over a new experiment. He nods, “I have some theories I’d like to test one day, but we can work up to it.”
Your jaw drops before you can stop it, “oh, you plan on seeing them again?”
The tips of his ears are bright red, but he plows on anyway. “Only if you let me,” and he leans back in his chair, closing his eyes with a sigh. “But I’m happy to just dream about them for a while.” And he laughs when you throw a stress ball at his head.
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i've been thinking about getting mine pierced for years, should I do it in my final year in my 20's? is this the kind of thing we do before we turn 30 for the sake of being hot?
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