Welp. Google's AI horseshit has arrived. And I'm not complying. They can pry my ID out of my cold dead hands. I will simply go elsewhere. Remember folks, DO NOT GIVE THEM YOUR IDs. Do not comply. Resist, fight it, use other browsers or sources beyond youtube and google controlled services. Call them. Email them. Make noise. Fight back.
I've been using Google as my main mail service since 2006, and every single account or service I've ever signed up for was made with that address. For a long time I thought it'd be impossible to divorce myself from Google.
It took less than 5 minutes to switch to a ProtonMail account, less than 2 hours to download and/or offload every byte of data from my Google account, and less than 3 days to change every single account or service I've ever signed up for to the new address.
As of today, the only single one I have that's still tied to it is YouTube. It's the only thing I'd lose access to if I deleted my Google acount entirely.
They really, really want you to believe that it's a hassle to switch to a different email system. But it's not. Most websites and/or services allow you to change the email address associated with it.
I've been using Google for almost 2 decades and it only took a few days to move everything. It's not a painful sacrifice; it's an easy change that, frankly, has absolutely been worth it.
You can and should switch to a free, encrypted Proton email account. You also get all of the below perks. For free. There is no trick. It is paid for by the people with paying plans. I am one of them. The (completely functional) free tier is there to entice you into getting a paid account with even more perks. (It worked on me.) But there's no penalty or pressure for staying with the free account.
Also get your stuff off the google drive and put it on Proton's drive. It is encrypted. Only you with your password can access it. Not even Proton can see what you put in there.
Phm where Rocky finds Grace still in the coma. And is sorta unhinged about it after 46 years of loneliness given someone who is permanently asleep and given person can watch sleep and protect.
Capital o Obsessed. He has chance of not being all alone. But Rocky not science Eridian, not smart enough. But desperate. Need to discover engineering solution to alien tech malfunction.
Finally, sprinkle in a Lot of Snow White imagery with the poisoned apple mixed into Eden symbolism for the Christianity woven into Project Hail Mary. Cause Rocky platonically adores this comatose guy, and Grace was doomed because of his acquired knowledge and exiled from the garden/Earth.
Simon third wheeling when his wife meets Johnny because they have the same special interests.
So now he is sitting at the table watching his best friend and his wife nerd about sharks while his eyes just move from one to the other trying to understand their words.
Painfully shy reader getting absolutely obliterated drunk at the pub, losing all sense of timidity, and telling Gaz and Soap "I bet the reason Ghost actually hides his face is 'cause he knows everybody'd wanna sit on it".
Ghost overhearing, leaning over your shoulder, and letting you know "I'm just keeping your seat clean until you're ready to sit on it, love".
Obviously Simon fucks the embarrassment out of you the next day, but only after making sure you get your reserved seat nice and wet.
Imagine Simon waiting for the day blind!reader will again walk into his small, nearly unfurnished apartment.
He goes to the door everytime Someone walks down the hallway.
Never walks reader down the hall, till one evening.
Blind!reader gets off the elevator with their guide dog. Its a golden retriever which leads reader right in front of Simons door.
Reader knocks at the wooden door.
Simon already stood behind the door so he Opens it.
"Hey, Sweetheart. I think you´ve got the wrong door." he tries to be smug but his heart is beating up his throat and his words sound a little funny around the edges.
Blind!Reader turns a bright pink and their mouth falls open while their eyes widen in horror.
"I`m so sorry" readers head turns down in the direction of their guide dog who Loos innocently back at Simon (probably hoping for pets).
"He´s never been with me to my friend so he has no idea where we are supposed to go.", the blush deepens and reader tries to get the Goldie to move.
The dog on the other Hand is way to occupied with watching Simon like he is his von lost father.
“Why is she here again?” you muttered under your breath as the influencer clomped through the mud in tactical boots cleaner than your mess kit.
“For PR,” Soap whispered, like it was classified intel. “And because someone hates us.”
The influencer—Tiffany or Tiff or whatever—gave Ghost another lingering look like he was a shirtless firefighter in a calendar. “Ghosty, can you show me how to hold the big scary gun again? Pretty please?” she cooed, doing something horrifying with her eyelashes.
Ghost didn’t look up from checking his gear. “No.
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. She turned her death glare on you like you'd just stolen her ring light.
During drills, she "accidentally" pushed a duffel into your path. You tripped, took a dirt dive, and landed face-first in gravel. “Oopsies,” she said, not sorry at all.
Price barked at you in front of the squad. Ghost glanced your way, jaw tight. You grunted and kept walking. You’d live. Probably.
It wasn’t until the field op that things got serious. A misfired flare caused a small explosion, splitting the team. You and Ghost ended up holed in an abandoned barn with limited comms and nightfall closing in.
“You alright?” he asked, checking your shoulder where shrapnel grazed.
“I’ll live. You?”
“Better now that she’s not here,” he muttered.
You chuckled, the sound low and tired. “You know she sees me as a rival?”
“Figured. She stares at you like she wants to murder you with a glittery bayonet.”
A silence hung between you, thicker than smoke. Then—
Ghost reached out, his gloved fingers surprisingly gentle as they hooked under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. The harsh shadows of the barn softened around him, and for a second, the chaos outside completely faded.
With his free hand, he reached up and slowly pulled the edge of his mask up just past his lips. Before you could even register the rare sight, he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth, tasting faintly of mint and rain, sending a sharp jolt of electricity straight down your spine.
He lingered there for a heartbeat, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone, wiping away a streak of dirt. "I've been wanting to do that since you took that dive earlier," he murmured, his voice a low, rough purr right against your ear. "You look devastating when you're angry."
You could feel your heart hammering against your ribs, your breath catching in your throat as you wrapped a hand around his wrist, pulling him just a fraction closer. "Is that a confession, Lieutenant?"
"It’s a promise," he breathed, his hand shifting to cup the back of your neck, you could feel the heat radiating off him. "When we get back to base, I'm showing you exactly what you mean to me. Understood?"
Before anything else could be said, the door burst open. Tiffanie stood there, red-faced and holding her phone.
“I demand to be extracted! This lighting is heinous, and nobody told me there’d be spiders!”
Ghost pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Ma’am, calm down—” you tried.
“I knew you’d sabotage me! You’re just jealous!”
And that’s when she grabbed your vest.
You sighed, pulled out your taser, and shot her square in the thigh.
She collapsed like a diva in a soap opera.
Ghost looked down at her twitching body. “..You didn’t even hesitate.”
“She’s lucky I didn’t set her eyelashes on fire.”
Ghost stared at you, then nodded. “I’ll back your report.”
You shrugged. “Self-defence.”
Then you looked back up at the team who flooded in right at the moment, spoke deadpan. "You saw Nothing".
The squad looked anywhere but at them as the sky suddenly was a lot more interesting. "Must have been the wind.", they said in unison.
The man was currently lying next to you and, as much as you usually loved that, it was summer now. The air itself was already too hot and moist to sleep comfortably, your pajamas abandoned in the back of the closet and even your blanket was from your body.
But with him next to you, you felt suffocated. His breath hitting your face and the heat of his heavy body traveling from him to you was too much to handle.
Still, Simon only hummed and wrapped his arm around you.
"No, Simon! I'm sweating my ass off!"
He chuckled, took his arm off of you and scooted away a bit. "Alright, you heat-intolerant."
Would you attempt an a/b/o, with an Alpha!RylandxOmega!Reader. If not I understand, had to ask didn't see it on your Won't do list.
WOOWEE I am unsure about my knowledge on this but I wrote it anyway 😂 i've def read a/b/o stuff in the past and I feel like I did the lite version and it's just smut with like, extra nasty sex lmaooo thank you for sending this, it's really tickled my brain
Crisis Management ~ ryland grace x reader
2.8k words, smut, a/b/o, knotting, heat and rut
summary: you ran out of suppressants earlier than expected on the way to Erid, ryland helps you through your heat
---------------
It’s not like Stratt didn’t know. She knew, she assessed the risks, she sent you out with a supply of suppressants meant to last a few years, enough to get you to the end of your life on the Hail Mary, whenever you decided that would be. She didn’t, however, know that your body would process those suppressants a lot faster in space. Neither of you did, to be fair.
You’d been pumping through them pretty quickly, the bottom of your last bottle sneaking up on you, forcing you to reckon with your current predicament sooner than you hoped. The empty bottle was shoved to the back of your duffle bag with a prayer that it wouldn’t be so bad, that your first heat would pass easily, that Ryland would be none the wiser.
It was a useless prayer, of course, because you woke up with intense cramps and a need you knew you wouldn’t be able to satisfy on your own.
Your embarrassment was only starting, though, because eventually Ryland stood in the doorway, his arms crossed and a worried look on his face. “I read your file,” he murmurs, a hand coming up in defense when you whip around to look at him, “I’m sorry, but I didn’t have a choice. I could… smell you.”
You sigh, biting your lip as another wave of pain rolls through you. “Just lock me in here for a few days,” you manage, “I’ll be fine.” Your body language screams not fine, but that’s neither here nor there as far as you’re concerned. A whisper of your name grabs your attention, makes your skin prickle. “This is serious, how long have you been on suppressants?” His voice is low, betraying how stern he’s about to be.
You roll to your back, staring up at the ceiling. “At least, I don’t know, six years?”
“Six years?!” He’s mad, furious, even. “This is your first heat in six years?” His voice drops a little, the low timbre going straight to your core. You groan quietly, arms wrapping around your middle. “Can we crisis manage now and lecture me later?” You throw him a withering look, begging him to close the door and leave you to your misery.
He lets out a deep breath, hands coming up again, “can I come closer?” A quick nod from you, a quiet moan as his scent wafts over you, “sweetheart, you’re not going to be able to handle this one on your own.” He’s so gentle, like he’s approaching a cornered animal. Apt, you think with a shaky breath.
“This is the crisis management,” he whispers, kneeling in front of you. “We both know what’s happening, please let me help.” He places a hand on the bed, close but not touching, letting you decide how to proceed, giving you a choice in this.
You search his face, see the worry swirling around behind his glasses, see how he bites the inside of his cheek like he’s biting back more words that he knows aren’t going to be helpful in this moment. A deep breath doesn’t help, his scent filling your nose and turning your brain to mush.
Finally, you nod, watching the relief flood over his face as he gives you a small smile, an attempt at comfort. “It’s still early,” you mumble, “it’s going to get worse.” He nods, brows furrowing, “I know. Just tell me what you need, I’ll take care of you.”
The warmth in his words makes you shiver, your eyes closing in an attempt to ground yourself. “Keep Rocky out, please?” Another nod from him, “already taken care of. I’ll get snacks and water, do what you need to.” He brushes soft fingers over your hand, mouth pulling tight when your breath hitches at the contact.
He disappears for a few minutes, leaving you in the bunk room. It’s immediate, how you miss his scent and feel the need to nest. It overwhelms you, so you pull the patchwork quilt off of his bed, along with his pillows, and cocoon them around your own bed. You grab his sweater, wrapping it over your shoulders and burying yourself in the pile you’ve made.
When Ryland returns, he stops to take you in. Wrapped in his scent, snuggled into the warm sheets, you looked so soft. Your scent hits him full force, though, and he steels himself for a long week.
You reach for him, swallowing your pride long enough to ask for help. He drops the supplies he brought on the floor by the bed and crawls in beside you, wrapping his arms around you with a sigh. “Can I ask about it, before it gets bad?” His voice is quiet, it makes you shiver against him. “Yeah,” you whisper, burying your head into his shirt, letting him fill your senses.
“Why’d you hide it?” He strokes up your back, trying to offer any comfort he can. “Hide that I’m an omega?” You laugh bitterly, feeling how he squeezes you just a little. “Yeah, there’s no shame in it,” he mumbles, “doesn’t change anything, you’re still a brilliant engineer.”
“Stratt said something similar,” you sigh, “we thought she stocked enough suppressants.” He hums, “she wouldn’t have sent you if she didn’t trust you.” It rings true for both of you, Stratt only made the most calculated choices, only took risks that she was sure were worth it.
“Ryland, I’m sorry I’m putting you in this position, it’s not fair to you,” you whisper, pushing down a yawn. A big hand runs through your hair, shifting your head so he can see your face. “I’m here for you, whatever you need,” he cups your cheek, thumb swiping across your skin. “But you should know,” he takes a deep breath, looking wary of his next words, “you might trigger my rut.”
You nod, knowing that was a possibility, knowing that he hasn’t had one as long as you’ve been awake. “Whatever you need, too, then,” and you pull his hand to your mouth, pressing a kiss to his palm. He leans forward and kisses your forehead, his eyes fluttering shut. “Get some rest, you’re gonna need as much as you can,” he wraps you in his arms and holds you close, waiting until your breathing evens out before he lets himself sleep too.
—------
When you woke a few hours later, you were sweating through your clothes. Ryland was awake, he had thrown the blankets off of you at some point, feeling how warm you’d gotten. He pressed water into your hand immediately, deep voice telling you to drink.
You can’t help how you twist, needing contact with him but hating how hot everything feels. Like he can sense your struggle, he whispers, “hey, it’s okay, what do you need?” His hold loosens just a little, hands stroking over the worn knit of his sweater hanging off your frame. “‘S too hot,” you whine, “everything’s too hot.”
He sits up, pulling you up with him, and helps you shrug out of the cardigan. When you reach for the hem of your shirt, he turns away, trying to give you a little privacy. You shed your shirt and pants, groaning when the cool air hits your heated skin. Your scent fills the room, Ryland feels it crowding in on every side, smells how wet you are already.
The cramps are back in full force, you flop against the mattress and muffle a cry into your pillow. He’s there quickly, soothing touches on your arms and shoulders trying to help. When a shiver wracks your body and you choke out his name, he takes your hand. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he whispers, “it’s okay, get what you need.” And he slides your hand down your body, pushing your fingertips under the waistband of your panties.
You whimper at the first touch against your core, biting back a cry when you circle your clit. Your hips jerk, legs spreading a little more to give you room. Ryland presses sweet kisses to your temple, strokes your hair with tender fingers.
A pained sigh leaves you when you dip down to swipe through your slick, your body clenching around nothing. You slide back up to your clit, picking up your pace with a cry. Ryland hums next to you, “smell so pretty, baby.” The words make you hot, you close your eyes with a whine. “Be a good omega for me,” he whispers, lips pressing to your cheek, “come.”
Your back arches as your orgasm rolls through you. Quiet moans leave your lips, your legs snapping shut, trapping your hand against your soaked core. He talks you through it, “good, baby, that’s it. Get it all out, I’m right here.” His voice dips lower, breath hitching when you shudder through the last of it.
“Doing so good, did that help?” He studies your face, seeming satisfied when you nod and look away bashfully. “Hey, none of that,” his hand cups your jaw, tilting your face back towards his, “don’t go getting shy on me. We’re still at the beginning of this, we’ve got a while to go.” He gives you a small smile, reaching for the hand still resting in your panties. He grips your wrist and pulls your hand to his mouth, sucking your fingers between his lips. His eyes roll back with a groan - he licks your skin clean, pressing kisses to your fingertips and palm before he lets you go.
You eat a snack, drink some more water, and roll over to be close to him again. The fabric of his shirt is rough against your cheek, you let out a small laugh and lean up to look at him. “Since you just watched that, can you at least take off your shirt?” He laughs with you, sitting up and throwing his shirt across the room. “Consider it gone.” And you let him tug you down for another nap.
—------------
The next time you wake up, it’s to an intense pain shooting out from your core, heat rolling through you in waves. Ryland’s asleep under you, face peaceful and chest rising slowly. You hate to wake him, so you roll to your other side and let your hand slide straight into your panties. No time is wasted, you circle your clit, moaning lightly at the contact.
This time feels different, though, and you can’t quite build your pleasure like you did before. You try your best, pressing two fingers into your waiting center and thrusting quickly. You rub at your clit, the pain setting in full force. A quiet cry of, “please, alpha,” falls from your lips and suddenly Ryland is there.
He rolls you to your back, his voice washing over you, cooling the fire that threatened to burn you alive. “I’m here, I’ve got you,” and he skims his fingers down your sides, planting kisses to your neck. He leans up to see your eyes, “can I kiss you?” Even now he’s still so worried about you. You nod quickly, hands burying in his hair and pulling him to you.
The kiss is intense, he licks into your mouth with a groan, the sound helping to ground you through the cramps. “Need your knot,” you breathe against him, swallowing down his whine. You beg again, feeling his resolve crack when you roll your hips against his. “Of course, sweet girl,” he whispers, “anything -” for you is how he wants to end that sentence, but he cuts himself off with a groan.
He pulls the rest of your clothes off, biting his way to your breasts, and sheds his pants easily. He takes a second to look, shoves his nose against your skin and breathes in deeply. It rips a growl from his throat, a needy, “fuck,” slipping out.
You’re getting desperate, the pain seeping in the longer he has his hands off of you. You squirm under him, legs wrapping around his hips to try to hurry him along. He realizes how long he’s made you wait, whispering his apologies and stroking his thick length quickly. You moan at the size of him, know he’s exactly what you need.
Ryland shoots you a reassuring smile and lines himself up, pressing in with a whimper and falling forward to kiss you deeply. He feels as thick as he looks, stretching your walls slowly as he works each inch in. He pauses when he’s half way in, kissing along your face and whispering soft praise. “Perfect for me, oh, my omega,” his forehead lands against yours, your breaths mingling in the small space between you.
You’re whining under him, practically begging for him to keep going, to give you what you so desperately need. “Ryland, please,” you cry, nails digging into his back, scratching red marks on his skin. He nods, panting heavily, and slides the rest of the way in. He bottoms out with a moan, drinking down your sounds as he kisses you again.
The first thrust punches the air out of you, your legs tightening around him in encouragement. “Oh, baby,” he praises, “needed this so bad, huh?” And then he’s moving. It’s fast, erratic slaps of his hips on yours. Wet squelches echo through the room, your slick dripping onto the sheets below you. “Look,” he commands, hand gripping your jaw and forcing you to look down at where you’re connected.
He’s huge, pumping into you in a show of strength, your slick coating his cock, his thighs, up to the light trail of hair dusting his lower stomach. You let out a moan, eyes flicking to his, your breath hitching when you find him already staring at you. “Like you were made for me,” he murmurs, biting your lip and watching it spring back. “Tell me whose pussy this is,” he drops his head to your neck, licking and sucking just below your ear.
In any other scenario, you would roll your eyes at the bravado of an alpha, but in this moment? You feel like your brain is melting. Your walls clench down on him, your eyes rolling back as a moan rips from your throat. You feel him smile against your neck, feel the little laugh he lets out at how affected you are. “It’s yours,” you whimper out, legs starting to shake.
“And who am I?” He murmurs right into your ear, biting your lobe. Heat floods your body, your core pulsing and back arching. “My alpha,” you cry, clawing at his back as your whole body convulses. He rewards you with a scratch of his teeth against the curve of your neck, biting lightly.
The pressure sends you tumbling over the edge. Your eyes screw shut, stars flashing behind your lids. His knot forms quickly, locking him in place as he shakes above you. He growls, grinding against you and drawing out your peak as long as you can take it. Finally he slows, lips seeking yours to feel all of your whimpers on his tongue.
He pulls away just enough to scan your face, searching for any remnants of pain. When he’s satisfied with your expression, he wraps his arms around you and rolls. His back lands against the wall, so he’s sitting up with you in his lap. You’re draped over his chest, your head cradled against his neck.
A deep breath tells you what you already knew, his rut has started. Soft hands stroke up your back, gentle lips press to your temple, a quiet voice whispers sweet praise. You think this might be heaven, here in Ryland’s arms, his knot filling you, every sense full of him.
He huffs out a small laugh, shaking you just a little. “I, uh - this knot might last a while, it’s been a long time for me too.” You laugh, breath hitching when he squeezes your thighs playfully.
You’re boneless on top of him, quietly answering his questions about the intensity of this heat (it’s high, of course), what you used to do on earth for it, how you convinced Stratt to let you on the mission.
“That one wasn’t me,” you smile against his shoulder. “She recruited me, told me that if I wanted in, I had it.” He’s quiet for a minute, you can hear the gears turning in his head. “She only wanted the most qualified,” he murmurs.
You shrug, “I think she’s got good judgement.” You push up to sit, both of you groaning when you shift, his knot pulsing at the friction. He kisses you, both hands holding your face. “I don’t know how long my heat’s gonna last,” you grimace, covering it with a laugh that he sees through instantly.
“We’ve got it,” he kisses your forehead, “we’re a great team.” When he presses his lips to yours again, you can’t help but smile.
summary: Ryland discovers that you have a thing for being put in a headlock years after first doing it
------------------
“This what you needed, baby?” His voice is rough, strained with the effort of keeping you both upright. He fucks into you slowly, letting you feel every thick inch of his length, his tip kissing your cervix with every thrust. He has your back to him, one strong arm wrapped around your neck, squeezing your face in his bicep. You scratch at his arm, eyes rolling back when he pistons his hips faster, hitting you deeper with every stroke.
This wasn’t the kind of thing he would normally have done, but an incident back on the Hail Mary flashed through his memory when he was teaching his Eridian students about the plants you’ve been able to grow. He held a small tomato plant up and zoned out for a second, coming back to himself just in time for the students to start asking questions.
The memory was stuck in his brain, though. Some months into your trip to Erid, Ryland and Rocky had followed you into the small area designated for your space garden. The conversation was light, you and Ryland teaching Rocky about the different plants and their purposes, what you were hoping to learn by having them in space.
“This flower will eventually grow into something we can eat,” you point to a bloom that you’ve been carefully cultivating for weeks. “You remember how we talked about pollen?” You look to Rocky expectantly. “Yes, stamen make pollen, pistil use it,” Rocky chirps. You nod, biting your pen while you pull a small sample of yellow dust off the flower.
“Flower like humans, statement.” That makes you pause, head turning to him with a frown. “What do you mean, Rock?”
“Human male make pollen, human female use it.” A choked noise sounds from next to you, Ryland throws a hand over his face with a groan. “Rocky, please don’t talk about human reproduction again,” he murmurs, grinning when you let out a loud laugh.
“Come on, Grace, we can give him another lecture about sex,” you set your notepad down and give him your full attention, “surely you still have so much to say!” His brows shoot to his hairline, eyes flashing, hands landing on his hips while he decides his approach. “Go ahead, then,” he starts, leveling you with a glare, “what do you want to know?” He doesn’t ask Rocky, he asks you.
Rocky speaks up anyway, “Grace use stamen on mates, question?” His tone is different, he sounds grossed out. You laugh, puffing up your cheeks when Ryland drops his head and sighs. His face is red, hands still on his hips. “This is your fault,” he points at you, smiling when you turn your back to laugh harder.
“You know what,” he laughs, stepping toward, “I’ve had enough of your teasing.” His arm wraps around your neck, bicep flexing as he puts you in a headlock. His free hand comes up to rub against the top of your head, “you’ve got a big mouth,” he chuckles against you.
You freeze, feeling his chest against your back, his arm on your throat, his breath in your hair. Fuck, do you have a thing for being put in a headlock? You hadn’t considered it before, but when it’s Ryland’s bicep, Ryland’s voice in your ear? Yeah, that’s a new one for you.
Rocky perks up, lifting his carapace and tilting, “her heart rate is high, is this mating ritual, question?” Your face heats up, hands pulling Ryland’s arm off of you quickly. He lets go easily, worry flashing across his face.
You had excused yourself immediately, heading to the other room and busying yourself for a bit. Half an hour passed before Ryland came slinking in, tail between his legs, apologizing for manhandling you. You both let it go after that, agreeing to let bygones be bygones and all that.
Until you made it to Erid. By the time the biodome was ready for you to move in, you and Ryland were well established in your relationship. He had finally cornered you in the kitchen the morning after his plant class, sliding up behind you while you sip your coffee in front of the window, overlooking the foggy beach made just for you. His arm slipped around your shoulders, bicep tightening around your throat just enough for him to feel you tense a little.
“I was teaching about your plants yesterday,” he murmured into your hair, “remembered something like this,” he squeezed his arm just a little, reveling in how your breath hitched. “I realized that it might not have made you uncomfortable like I first thought,” he leaned forward enough to take in your profile, “I think you liked it.”
You floundered a little, debating on if it was worth it to deny it, and finally just nodded your head, movement limited by the thick arm cradling your head.
You let him pull you to bed, let him take you apart with his fingers and tongue, let him build up to what he’d clearly been thinking about.
And here you are now, kneeling on the sheets, Ryland behind you. His arm is tight around your throat, breath heavy on your hair. He’s practically holding you up, his other arm wrapped around your hips like a seatbelt. You can’t control the sounds he punches out of you with each snap of his hips, can’t do anything but hold on while he takes what he wants.
“Just needed a bicep to choke you a little, huh?” God, the way he teases you never fails to make your knees weak. “Taking it so good, baby,” he groans right in your ear, “fuckin’ love this, holy shit.”
His hand flexes beside your head, making his arm squeeze just a little bit more. The moan it rips from your throat is loud, your eyes rolling back. He feels you clench down around him, feels how close you’re getting to losing it. “Gonna come for me, sweets? Gonna let me feel you come on my cock?” His voice is deep, broken whines slipping through his rough exterior.
He was usually so soft and sweet with you, this rugged version of him was new and exciting. Maybe there was a dom hiding somewhere under all the nerd this whole time? He keeps up his brutal pace, hips slamming into yours hard enough to make you jerk with each thrust. He’s hitting that spot inside you so perfectly, so roughly, it makes you see stars.
“Take your time, baby,” he grunts softly, “get there when you’re ready.” There’s that care you were so used to. Never rushing you, never pressuring you for anything. “I can do this all night,” his grin is obvious in his tone, you just know he’s getting off on the power. “You can rub your clit,” he whispers, nipping at your ear, “or do you need me to do that, too?”
He breathes a laugh when you moan, your hips rolling back into him, your head tipping back against his shoulder. He’s supporting most of your weight, holding you tightly to him, controlling both of your movements. “Y’feel so good, so warm and tight,” he leans back just a little, pulling you with him, changing the angle just enough.
He manages to sink in deeper, feeling how your slick leaks down his shaft and sticks to his thighs. “Dripping all over me,” he grins, “sexy as hell how much you love this.” And he feels you clench, feels you shake, and groans when he feels you tip right over the edge. Your breath hitches, hands locking on his arms as you shiver through your high. “Yes, baby,” he whispers, grunting with the effort of keeping up his rhythm when you’re squeezing him so tightly.
A few more thrusts and he slams home, holding you against him firmly while he whimpers into the side of your head. He pants for a moment, admiring how pliant and relaxed you feel under him. You grab his arm and pull, sighing when he finally eases up and lets you fall forward. You burrow into the pillows, groaning when he lays his whole body on top of yours. He kisses down your spine, across your shoulders, pushes your hair away from your neck so he can check for any marks.
“You did so good, sweetheart,” he whispers into your skin, “s’perfect for me.” You smile, turning your head enough to see him. “You’re really strong, Ry.” He smiles, shifting up and over so his head is next to yours, placing a sweet kiss to your lips. “I haven’t been using it to my advantage, I think,” he laughs, stroking your cheek gently. “I could’ve been throwing you around this whole time.”
You laugh along with him, nodding with a hum, melting under his soft touch.
based on my post from last night about rocky and Adrian wanting to watch purely for science and ryland being kinda too into it. "4 scientists standing in a circle consenting to let each other watch" to quote myself lmao
3k words, smut, voyeurism, exhibitionism, all consenting adults
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It’s not like the topic of sex hadn’t come up in the years you spent traveling with Rocky to Erid - he was curious by nature, fascinated by the human body and all its inner workings - but he respected the fact that it was meant to be a private act. He would pretend he never heard you and Ryland when things got a little steamy, making himself busy on the far end of the ship until the sounds quieted down.
So now, sitting on the beach with Ryland, Rocky and Adrian, you were stunned into silence by the blunt questions being directed to you. “You want to what?” Ryland gapes beside you. “Rocky, Adrian want to observe human mating,” said so easily in his melodic tones. Ryland looks at you for help, not sure how to continue this conversation.
“For science!” Adrian chimes in, “you are first humans we’ve known, we want to study everything.”
“You watch Rocky eat, this seems like fair trade,” Rocky states, tapping a claw against the sand. You choke out a laugh, willing the heat in your cheeks to dissipate. “Sorry,” you start, glancing at Ryland to see the pink dusting his cheeks, “you want to watch us… have sex?”
“Yes, observe sex,” Adrian settles a little further down, tilting their carapace toward Rocky. “I know is private ritual,” he hums, “but could be good data to have.”
Ryland nods slowly, staring at his knees while he thinks. Finally, he sighs and faces you, “we would ask the same thing if we were in their position.” He purses his lips, biting back a grin at the shocked look you shoot him. “You’re thinking about it?” You ask, disbelief coating your words.
He laughs, throwing himself back to lay in the sand. “I’m just saying I don’t think it’s such a crazy thing to ask.” He gestures to the aliens next to him, “like, they’re hundreds of years old, they’re intelligent beings, they’ve got a brand new species of equally intelligent life living in a terrarium on their planet, surely they’d want to know.” He lifts his head just enough to look at you, trying to gauge your reaction to his thoughts.
Before you can form a response, Rocky stands proudly. “Rocky already heard all noises on ship, human mating very loud.”
You groan, kicking Ryland’s leg when he lets out a belly laugh at that. “Can’t you just like, watch porn on your laptop?” You’re grasping at straws at this point. “No,” Rocky says immediately, “Grace said porn isn’t realistic. Rocky want to see real thing.” Ryland laughs again, covering his face with his hands, “I did say that.” He peeks at you over his fingers, snorting when you roll your eyes and flop into the sand beside him.
“Hey,” he turns his head to you, “only if you’re comfortable with it.” You think for a moment, trying to find a reason to deny the advancement of science other than sheer embarrassment. “It does feel a little like we’re zoo animals,” you sigh.
“We are zoo animals,” he whispers, hand finding yours, “but we have a choice.” His thumb strokes over your knuckles, “besides, they could learn so much about our biology, think of the studies they’ll be able to do with a few samples from us.”
“Samples?!” Your eyes go wide, “you’re already thinking about jerking off in a cup for them?” He turns away with a cackle, “they’re already studying our bodies,” a quick point to a bruise on his arm from the most recent blood draw, “why wouldn’t they want to learn about reproduction? They already know how it works, we tag-teamed so many of those conversations on Mary.”
You groan, squeezing your eyes shut like you can make the conversation end if you can’t see any of them. “Come on,” Ryland whispers against your cheek, “let’s be guinea pigs.” The grin he cracks is thrilling, like he’s finally living out a fantasy he didn’t know he had. “You’re a fucking nerd,” you breathe quietly, smiling when he buries his face in your neck. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes, fine, we can do it,” you mumble, laughing when he throws a fist in the air and turns to Rocky and Adrian, still sitting quietly beside him. “Okay, we’re in,” he’s all business suddenly, “how do you want this to work?”
“Just want to watch, we go now?” Rocky stands and starts heading in the direction of your little house. “Wha - now, now?” You stammer out, eyes flying to Ryland when he stands and offers a hand to help you up. “Yes, now,” Adrian answers, launching into a list of positions they researched and ranking which ones they wanted to see the most.
—-------
The house is quiet, late afternoon light filling the space with a nice glow. You stand nervously in the bedroom, watching as Rocky and Adrian make themselves comfortable on a bench Ryland dragged in. You set your boundaries on the walk back: the Eridians wouldn’t talk, if either of you were uncomfortable at any point you’d stop, Ryland wasn’t allowed to teach while actively fucking you. All the normal stuff.
He sidles up to you slowly, hands coming to rest on your waist. “Really? A cuck bench?” You laugh, gesturing to the other side of the room. He laughs too, winking while he draws closer, “a scientific, observational cuck bench.” He stops before he kisses you, “just focus on me,” he breathes against your lips, feeling your body release a little tension at his proximity.
You melt into him when he finally presses his lips to yours, trying to push your nerves to the back of your mind. Ryland takes his time, kisses you slowly, passionately, like he’s trying to draw out every insecurity from your body, like he wants you to enjoy it with him. Gentle fingers slide under your shirt, spreading over the warm expanse of your back. He pulls you against him tighter, groaning quietly when you roll your hips against his.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers in your ear, teeth nipping the sensitive skin below it. You tilt your head to give him more access, breath hitching at the way he sucks marks on your neck. You can already feel his erection against you, pressing insistently as he sinks his hands under the waistband of your pants, fingers squeezing the plush flesh of your ass. You palm him through his sweatpants, feeling him shiver against you when you get the pressure just right.
He chokes on a whine, pulling away from your neck just long enough to get his shirt off. Your hands trace over the expanse of his stomach, you can’t help but admire the extra weight he’s put on. He grins against your lips, big hands cupping your face before he’s moving to pull your shirt off too.
The cool air against your skin suddenly reminds you that you’re not alone. Ryland feels the tension return to your frame, shifting so your back is to the aliens in the corner. He strokes your arms and kisses you soundly, his tongue claiming yours in an attempt to keep you in the moment with him.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs under his breath, feeling the goosebumps that raise under his fingers. “Cold, sweetheart?” His smile makes your heart skip again, he looks at you like you hung the moon. You nod and he twists his mouth like he’s thinking of the best way to warm you up. “Want me to help?” He’s teasing now, clearly getting a thrill out of making you grin despite yourself.
“Lay down for me,” he kisses you again for good measure. You climb on the bed, laying against the pillows while he sheds his pants with a wink. “Love you,” he whispers into your skin as he works his way up your body. You arch enough to let him unhook your bra, accepting the deep kisses he gives you when he throws it to the ground.
A soft moan makes its way out of your throat when he licks down your neck and chest, slowly working his way to your breasts. He looks up at you from under his lashes when he takes a nipple in his mouth, eyelids fluttering when you stroke a hand through his hair. He sucks on your breasts like it’s his job, drawing out sounds from you that are almost embarrassing in current company.
When you tug his hair with a murmur of his name, he groans, tongue vibrating against your sensitive nub and pulling a whimper from you. He pulls off with a pop, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your nipple. The sight sends a shock to your core, your hips rolling against him and head tilting back. He smirks to himself, shifting so he can get your pants and underwear off.
He sits back on his knees and takes you in. Soft hands lift your leg, his lips leaving sweet kisses from your ankle to your knee. He lays flat, dark eyes locked on your pussy, not even trying to hide the growl that claws its way out of him. Seconds tick by with no additional contact, you reach for him, tugging his hair again.
“Please, Ry,” you whisper, moaning when he licks a stripe up your core like that’s all he was waiting for. The first taste has him groaning against you, his eyes rolling back and fingers flexing on your thighs. “S’ good,” he whines into you, pressing your legs further apart.
You throw your head back, grinding your hips when he bumps your clit with his nose. It’s a little exhilarating knowing that you’re being watched in such a vulnerable position. Ryland between your legs, slowly taking you apart with his tongue, encouraging you to take what you need. And it doesn’t help that Ryland seems to be working twice as hard as normal, like he’s trying to show off to aliens who don’t know any different.
You feel a hand leave your leg and soft fingers prod your entrance. He looks up at you without breaking his rhythm, waiting for permission that you give quickly, willingly. You feel more than see the smile that pulls at his lips, then he pushes in and squeezes his eyes shut. “Oh, baby,” he groans into your skin, “so tight, so warm. This all for me?” Your breath hitches, you love his mouth in these moments.
“Just for you, Ryland,” you moan, back arching when he slides a second finger in. He growls again, speeding up his movements and chasing your release like it already belongs to him. A curl of his fingers has you bucking into his hand, spreading your slick against his chin and cheek. You clench down, guiding his head to exactly where you need him to tighten the coil in your stomach.
He flicks his tongue and sucks just right, staring up at you with wide eyes as he feels you building. Little groans of, “mhm, mhm,” fall from his lips, spurring you towards the edge. A gasp pulls from your throat and your whole body tenses, heat rolling through you in waves. You grind against his face, feel him lick up your release as it spills around his fingers still nudging that spot inside you.
You flop down in the bed, breath coming in harsh pants, and take a second to assess your body. Your legs were tingling, vision a little fuzzy, core spasming as Ryland slowly pulls out. He stays where he is, pressing kisses to your thighs and hips, whispering praise until he sees your face relax fully. When you reach for him, he moves quickly.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling when you let out a small sound. “Doing okay?” He asks against your jaw, fingers intertwining with yours and lifting above your head. “Yeah,” you breathe, “I could go for another one.” It’s your turn to wink at him.
“I can get back down there if you want,” he teases, licking into your mouth when you laugh. “Mm, Ry, I wanna come with you,” you hold his face with your free hand, thumb swiping against his cheek gently. That sweet pink shows itself on his skin again, making you giggle as he drops his weight into you.
“I think we can make that happen,” he groans, shoving his boxers off with one hand and kneeing your legs farther apart. You spread easily, so wrapped up in the man above you that you forget there’s been an audience here the whole time.
He wastes no time, slotting his tip against your entrance with a whimper against your shoulder. You roll your hips just right, feeling him slip in. He shudders above you, “sl-slow baby,” he begs, “y’ got me so worked up.” A sharp nip lands on your neck, causing your head to drop back again with a moan.
“Love those noises you make, so sexy,” he’s talking to distract from the fact that he’s not moving. “Can feel you squeezing me already, god, you’re amazing,” he slides in another inch, gasping and groaning when he feels your walls give way for him. “Oh- oh baby, fuck.”
You try to relax, try to make it easier for him, but the sounds falling from him are so hot, you can’t help the occasional clench that rocks you both. It takes him a while to push all the way in, he does everything he can to keep it together when he bottoms out and you gasp right in his ear. He’s not usually so sensitive, you briefly wonder if being watched is doing it for him that much. He did agree to it pretty quickly, after all.
He gives a testing thrust, panting above you with the effort. You roll your hips when he finds a rhythm, feeling how he squeezes your hand still in his above your head. He builds speed, practically fucking you into the mattress with the depth of each thrust. You’re a mess beneath him, moaning and gasping, head tossing and turning, free hand sinking nails into his back and neck.
A steady string of “yes, yes, yes,” punches out of him, like he couldn’t keep the words in if he tried. Without breaking his pace, his big hand grabs the back of your thigh, heaving it up towards your chest. The new angle makes your eyes roll back, his cock reaching deeper and deeper. A growl rips from his throat, low tones vibrating against your chest. You hug him to you tighter, taking everything he gave you with barely concealed elation.
He feels you clench around him particularly hard, feels how close you’re getting. He releases your hand to grab your other leg, pushing it up to match the other one. The position pushes the air out of your lungs, your legs shaking under his hold. “Give it to me, sweet girl,” he rumbles, “come on my cock, baby.”
You slip a hand down to where you’re connected, gathering some slick and rubbing your clit in rough circles. Your fingers brushing against his length almost makes him cum, he whimpers into the air and grits hit teeth to stave it off.
The sensations build, your body going taut as you finally crest the wave. A broken cry rips from your throat, legs shaking against his strong hold. It shatters through your whole body, heat and sparks for what feels like an eternity before you can suck in a breath. You clamp down on him and it tips him right over, a loud groan signalling his end before you feel warmth flood your walls.
He fucks you through it, dropping your legs in favor of leaning forward and kissing you messily. It's all teeth and tongue, he’s practically drooling into your open mouth. Your body relaxes against the sheets again, letting him press you into the mattress with grounding weight. He places sloppy kisses all over your face and neck, eyes half lidded in his own daze.
“Jesus, okay,” he laughs with his face hidden, “I was really into that.” A surprised laugh bubbles out of you, your hands cupping his cheeks to lift him up where you can see him. “I could tell,” you smile at his blush, “it’s been a while since you went for a mating press.” He grins into your palm, “Adrian mentioned it and I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” he sighs, pressing a sweet kiss to the tip of your thumb.
He rubs your side soothingly, turning his head to Rocky and Adrian, “you guys, uh - you got what you needed?” You look over to see them stand, stepping off the bench like normal. “Rocky has questions, statement.”
You and Ryland burst into giggles, “yeah, of course. Just give us a few minutes to clean up?” They amble towards the door, “Rocky, Adrian wait on beach, have much to discuss.”
You don’t have a chance to ask what that means before they’re gone. Ryland turns back to you slowly, “I know they don’t have anything to compare that to, but is it weird I wanted to impress them?” He looks shy, like he can’t believe that just happened. “They’re actually talking right now about how much of a beast Grace is in bed,” you laugh, squeezing his cheeks when he goes bright red.
He groans and rolls off of you, covering his face with a pillow. “You’re never gonna let me live this down,” it comes out muffled but you hear it anyway. You shift to lay against his side, “hey, I was as much of an eager participant as you were.”
“Besides,” you skim your fingers over his chest, “it was kinda hot, seeing you so lost in it.”
“Lost in it?” He snorts, pulling the pillow away. “Mhm,” you hum, “like you were drunk on me.” He grips you tightly with both hands, sliding you up his body until he can kiss you properly.
“We should ask them to make alcohol so we can do that again tipsy,” he whispers against your lips, smiling when you push his head away with a laugh. “Adrian’s got more positions they want to see, anyway.”
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ryland would SO be down for the science and accidentally discover new things about himself, like he's just always down to experiment lmao
Ryland with someone who admitted she hasn't came before
She's tried, just never gotten there by herself
I saw this right when you sent it and it did something to me so today's story is just our sweet, understanding science boy getting you off for the first time. thank you!!
Like, Ever ~ ryland grace x reader
2.6k words, smut, oral
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You knew you’d have to have the conversation with him eventually. Knew that, as sweet as he had always been, he’d want more with you when he grew bored of heated makeouts that didn’t lead anywhere. So you did your best overthinking and invited him round for an afternoon of baking, hoping that having something to do with your hands would make it easier to talk.
Ryland was always eager to spend time with you, so of course he said yes and immediately headed your way. The muffins were already in the oven by the time the conversation lulled, meaning you missed your chance to have something to focus on, having been so content to listen to his rambling about his week.
And by the time the muffins were cooling and the kitchen was clean, Ryland had you on his lap on the couch, his tongue in your mouth and his hands steady on your thighs. His lips move down to your throat and you freeze, remembering suddenly what you invited him over for in the first place. He feels how you tense, pulls away to look at you sweetly, “sorry, too much?”
You shake your head quickly, incredibly aware of how close you are to him. Your hands drop to fidget between your bodies, not quite sure where they should be. “Hey, did I do something wrong?” He whispers it so softly, worry twisting up his face. “No, no, Ryland, it’s not you,” you’re quick to reassure him, even when your own anxiety is eating away at you.
You take a deep breath, watching as he nods and leans back a little, like he’s trying to give you space to think. When you don’t say anything, he links his fingers with yours, thumbs rubbing over your knuckles soothingly. “You don’t have to tell me,” he starts, smiling when you make eye contact, “but I’m not gonna judge you, whatever it is.”
That gives you a little courage, the gentle man holding you so delicately on his lap suddenly seeming like prince charming here to save you from the dragon. “I really like you,” you whisper, biting your lip. He smiles warmly, “I really like you too.” You nod at that, looking down at your hands for this next part. “I - um, I’d really like to have more of a… physical.. relationship with you,” you curse how hot your cheeks feel.
“And you’ve been so great, really, you’re so respectful and patient and I don’t want you to be disappointed,” and you’re rambling now, beating around the bush. “I don’t want to - uh, fake anything with you, which is why I’ve been moving so slow.”
He’s listening intently, trying to figure out where this is going, trying to spare you from having to say whatever has you so nervous. He’d never figure it out on his own, though, and that’s why you’re here. One of his hands strokes up your arm, grounding touch helping you stay in the moment.
“Ryland, I’ve never… finished… before. I’ve always just pretended because it’s easier but I don’t want to do that with you,” your voice is quiet, head ducking just enough to hide from him. You hear him sigh, feel his hand slide all the way up to your chin. He lifts your head, searching your eyes for any emotion you’ll let him see. “Sweetheart, that’s not your fault,” there he is, the sweetest man in San Fran, “sounds like your past partners were dicks.”
You let out a tight laugh, “I’m not just talking about with partners, Ry, I mean, like, ever.”
That makes his head tilt, his brows furrowing in thought. “Not even… by yourself?” His cheeks have the lightest dusting of pink on them, like asking about your masturbation habits was finally the thing that got to him. You shake your head, breaking free from his light hold against your jaw. He lets out a breath, “but you want to?” A small nod, your hand squeezing his for comfort.
Ryland leans back fully, resting against the couch while he thinks. “Will you tell me what you’ve tried?” He asks softly, running his hand up your leg again. You tell him - your fingers, toys, showerheads, “eventually I just gave up, figured it wasn’t in the cards for me.”
He tsks at that, giving you a small smile. “Past guys did all the right things, I think, it just never worked,” you add with a huff, smiling when he rolls his eyes. “Baby, they clearly did not do the right things,” he pulls you in for a kiss, letting it linger until you relax into him. “Will you let me try?” He whispers against your lips, grinning when you nod.
Big hands hold your face, keeping you in place while he licks into your mouth. He takes his time, kissing you slowly, letting tension build with every bite to your lip and caress of your skin. He works down your neck again, sucking on your most sensitive spots until he has you whining above him. “Bedroom?” He groans out, smiling when you nod and stand, taking his hand and leading him away.
He pulls you against him, hands holding your hips firmly so he has your attention. “Listen to me, sweetheart,” he starts, warm eyes boring into yours, “there’s no pressure here, no time limit. We’re not in a rush, we don’t have any goals beside making you feel good, yeah?” You nod, your hands coming up to wrap around his neck, “what about you, though?”
He smiles again, “don’t worry about me, you’re the priority here.” His words make you warm all over, your tongue poking out to lick your lips before you nod again. His eyes drop to your mouth, he wastes no time diving back in to taste you. “Just want to make you feel good,” he whispers, biting your lip with a sigh. It draws out a small moan from you, your head tipping back to allow him more access to your neck. “And don’t feel bad if you can’t, just don’t want you faking anything with me,” he looks at you with hooded eyes, waiting until you nod before he returns to his kisses.
Slow hands move under your shirt, gentle fingers skirting along your skin as he lifts the fabric over your head. He separates from your skin just long enough to take you in, then his mouth goes straight to the hollow of your throat. He works his way down at a glacial pace, hands staying in completely appropriate areas, lips barely ghosting the supple curve of your breasts.
You can’t help how your nails scrape his scalp, how your fingers tighten when you feel his hot breath on your skin. Finally, he reaches for your bra, unhooking it and lowering the straps, his gaze mapping out each inch of new skin he sees until the bra is on the floor and the heat in your stomach is pooling. Everything in you is screaming to speed this up, to get to the good part, but you know he’d just stop you, insist on the build up being the good part.
As if he can sense your patience running out, he licks his way down until he can suck a nipple into his mouth. You moan immediately, hand tugging his hair and earning you a groan against your skin. He spends a long time on each breast, fingers playing with the side his mouth isn’t on, until he can’t help but reach for your pants.
Your leggings fall away with a little bit of a struggle, both of you laughing when you fall back to sit on the bed, fabric bunching around your knees. He pulls each leg out, placing kisses from your ankle to your knee, brushing gentle touches to your thighs before he stands. “Get comfy,” he smiles, nudging you back on the bed until you rest against the pillows.
His shirt hits the floor, nervous hand coming up to rub the back of his head. “Do you have any toys still?”
The question throws you off, but you nod, laughing when he sits next to you and gives you a serious look. “Can I see them? For research?” He wiggles his eyebrows, biting his lip when your hands come up to cover your chest. You nod toward your nightstand, “there’s a blue bag in the bottom of the drawer, it’s in there.”
He smirks, digging through the drawer and pulling out the small bag. A bullet vibe slides out into his palm, he holds it like it’s something precious and not a tool meant to get you off. A wink in your direction and he’s setting it down by your knee, abandoning it in favor of climbing over you and kissing you deeply. Suddenly he’s all heated touches and longing glances, checking in with prolonged eye contact as he slides down your body slowly.
One hand works its way to your clothed core, the other pushing your leg out to make room for him. “Tell me if anything feels wrong,” he breathes, finally looking down when he sees you nod. The lightest fingers work under your panties, pulling them off like he’s unwrapping a gift. Lips press to the inside of your thighs, across your hips, in the creases around where you were starting to feel desperate for him.
Blue eyes meet yours again, his hand finding yours and placing it in his hair, “don’t be afraid to guide me, you know your body.” His breath is warm against you, fingers squeezing around your thighs as he hikes them over his shoulders. He’s flat on the bed, his shoulders and back soft but firm, a wall of man keeping you right where he wants you.
He presses forward just a little, lets his nose make contact, breathes in your scent with a broken groan from low in his throat. Finally, he sticks out his tongue and licks a long, slow stripe. His eyes flutter closed at the taste, breath coming out faster.
It feels good, your other hand flying to join the first in his hair, petting through the strands with a small moan. Like with every other part of this process, Ryland moves like molasses. He alternates between kitten licks and light sucks, paying attention to what gets a reaction and what doesn’t. When you shift his head a little, landing him right over your clit, he can’t help the smile that breaks across his face. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he mumbles, “show me what you like.” The vibrations from his voice are nice, you briefly register how much you want him to keep talking.
“You taste so good, baby,” like he heard your wish, he keeps going, “look so good like this.” With you in control of his head, he loosens a hand from around your leg and reaches up, cupping your breast and thumbing your nipple, tweaking the bud until he feels your breath hitch. Something must flash across your face, because he raises his brows and asks, “what else do you need?”
You swipe his hair out of his eyes, take a second to find your voice, take another second to find your courage. “Feels good when you make noise,” you whisper, flushing when he grins up at you. “You got it, sweets,” he murmurs, diving back in and groaning around your clit like his life depends on it. His licks and sucks are stronger, firmer and hot and you feel something in your lower stomach that you know is a good thing.
His pace doesn’t slow down, fingers working your nipple, lips locked on your clit, sounds falling from his mouth that make your head spin. His hand still holding your thigh drops down, tracing long fingers through your slick, teasing around your entrance until you open your eyes and look at him. He winks again and presses in, drawing a moan from you as your head falls deeper into the pillows.
Two fingers stretch you open, your hips rolling when he gives a testing thrust. He hums, nodding as encouragement to keep it up, to get what you need. You feel him stroking your walls, feel him searching for the treasure he knows is there. It’s obvious when he finds it, your body jolting and your eyes rolling back. He hums again, curling his fingers and keeping them against that spot, just rubbing the nerves until you’re shaking around him.
Your cries are building, the slow burn igniting in your core a new sensation. You keep grinding against his face, one hand flying to his arm where he still has your breast in hand. “Mhm, mm, mhm,” he can feel how you’re getting close, knows you probably need reassurance if you’ve never felt this before. A rough thrust of his fingers has you gasping into the air, short, breathy cries of “please, please, Ry,” falling from your lips, as if you'd ever have to beg him for anything.
He keeps his eyes on your face, trying to be ready to catch you if you fall. He can’t help the pride filling him at seeing you like this, being the reason you feel so good. Your hand tightens impossibly in his hair, pulling a loud groan from him that shakes through you. You can feel it, you know you’re close, know something different is about to happen.
Your legs shake, body tensing as your moans crescendo. Everything feels too warm, an overwhelming heat rolls through you, a shiver working its way up your spine. “Ry - I’m, I’m gonna-,” you don’t get the chance to finish that sentence, your orgasm slamming into you like a tidal wave.
You convulse around him, his hand shooting to hold your leg open, giving himself enough room to keep up his movements. He works you through it, groaning at how your walls clench down on his fingers, your slick squelching out around his hurried thrusts. When you collapse down on the mattress, chest heaving and hands trembling, you feel him smile against your wet flesh.
He’s still talking, whispering something, you catch a quick, “good girl,” said with such softness it gives you butterflies. Slowly, his fingers slide out, replaced by his tongue lapping up the mess. He whines at the taste, groans when you pull him away by his hair. “Wait, ‘m not done,” he whispers, slowing down but not stopping.
Finally, he lets you shove him off, grinning when he lifts up and sees how wrecked you look. You try to hide the tear that slides down your temple but he sees it, his face shifting while he moves up to lay next to you. “Sorry,” you apologize before he can say anything, “just didn’t think I’d ever get to do that,” you laugh lightly.
He gives you a soft look, his dry hand coming up to hold your cheek, turning your face to him. He kisses you soundly, lets you taste yourself on his tongue, feels how you melt into it like it’s the only thing you need. You bite his lip, grin when he lets out the smallest moan. “You’re really fucking hot, you know that, right?” He smiles, chuckling when you cover your face with a huff.
He sits up for just a second, coming back to the pillow with the little vibrator in his hand. “We didn’t even need this guy,” he winks, settling his weight on top of you, relaxing when your hands scratch down his back. “Forgot it was even there,” you grin, “you’re just that good, Ry.”
He chokes out a laugh, face going red. “I’m pretty good with my mouth too,” you giggle, “in case you wanted me to return the favor.”
Big eyes meet yours, his mouth open slightly. “We’ve got all night,” he whispers, collecting himself, “let me get a few more from you first?"
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just a reminder to everyone out there, sex and pleasure is about feeling good and there's no pressure to make anything happen than you can't!! with a partner or going solo, there's no expectations on you to perform :)
have a quick drabble of dry humping with ryland bc I can't get it out of my head
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A movie plays softly in the background, cookies cooling on the stove and a board game laid out on the coffee table. But none of those things are important as you grind down on Ryland, his hands helping guide your hips against his clothed length. You hadn’t meant to end up like this, the two of you hung out all the time and it never ended with you writhing on his lap, fingers brushing through his hair and petting his cheeks.
You claim his tongue with yours, moaning into the kiss when he shifts just right beneath you, his sweats thin enough for you to feel all of him. He breathes your name, biting back a cry as you circle your hips and throw your head back, his face leaning in to bite at your breast over your shirt.
You weren’t even sure how you ended up here, one second you were fighting over the points of the game and the next his tongue was down your throat, hands pulling you into his lap with a growl. You think maybe you said something that pissed him off, maybe this was a punishment for hurting his feelings. But then again, maybe he’d been flirting all evening and you were feeding into it a little too much. Who could say?
Either way, you were panting into his mouth and grinding against him, swallowing down his whines and whimpers when you move just right. “This okay?” You whisper on his lips, laughing when he pulls back with an incredulous look on his face. “Please don’t stop,” he all but cries, “god, please don’t stop.”
A smirk tugs at your lips, your hand closing around the strands of hair on the back of his head and pulling, tilting him so you can kiss him as thoroughly as you want. He melts into you, moaning at the scratch against his scalp.
You can feel how wet you are, feel how your panties stick to your core with each pass over him. You know you’re leaving a stain on his pants but the thought only spurs you on. You have a feeling he won’t mind, anyway.
Finally, his hands slide from your hips to your ass, gripping tightly and giving him purchase to push up against you. “Oh - ooh, fuck,” he whispers, “you’re gonna make me cum like a fucking teenager.”
You grin, “that’s the plan, Ry.” And he whines into the air, hips jerking and hands squeezing tight. “It’s okay,” you nip at his jaw, “want you to come.”
His eyes shut tight, his head falling back and hips thrusting harshly. A broken whimper comes from deep in his chest, his legs shaking under you until he tenses. You keep moving, realizing just how close you are, and topple over the edge of your own orgasm. It catches you by surprise, your hands pulling his face into your chest again just for something to do while you writhe through it.
When you open your eyes again, he’s looking up at you with shining eyes, his mouth open just a little, like he can’t believe you’re real. You bite your lip and kiss him, sinking down to just rest in his lap. “You’re good at that,” he grins at you, hand coming up to swipe hair out of your face. You laugh, laying your head on his shoulder. “Thanks, nerd.” His laugh shakes your body, but he doesn’t move you, just relaxes against the couch and shuts his eyes.
Ryland Grace actively talking about science while your fucking.
Hear me out walk with me.
Ryland is stressed a lot, I mean the world is ending, let’s say he’s stuck on a particularly hard problem, and you know what helps him think? Being relaxed, and you know what relaxes him? Sex.
Either your sucking him off or your riding him, and he’s working through the equation in his head, eyes squeezed shut, holding onto you in some way.
If your riding him, maybe hes at his desk and you noticed he was a little worked up, or just wanted some attention, and just like that the second your on him he can breathe.
“Oh frick- baby- if I could create lightweight orbital mirrors to- fuck- gather the sunlight then-“
All the sudden hey turned to his desk, you pout because his beautiful scrunched up face is now focused like an idea popped up in his head. He’s scribbling down something on the scratch paper near him, you slow down so he can think properly. Once he sets the pen down he looks up at you like you’ve hung the stars, and when you start moving again at the beautiful pace that makes him want to die in the best way possible- he’s gone.
“So tell me more about astrophage breeding hm?”
He’ll try to stumble out his solution, a mix of science terms as you speed up the pace, but he’s GONE.
oh nothing, just rocky being so intrigued by ryland and you kissing
“physical human connection. purpose?”
grace practically leaps away from you, where you’re pressed against a lab table (forgotten taomeba scattered across various microscopes and slates, pushed aside to make way for the — admittedly, quite sexy — make-out that you and ryland were currently locked in on).
“rocky! jesus-!”
you slap your hands to your mouth (the mouth which a certain dr ryland grace was ravishing just seconds previously) and feel your cheeks go hot.
“oh my god.” you can’t seem to say anything else.
“display of affection, question? crew bond, question?”
grace blushing and you quickly butting in with a “oh- no… um…”
“courting gesture, question?”
ryland and you make eye contact. something heated flashes across his gaze, something which rocky can’t see, and you flush a deeper maroon. his mouth crooks into a lopsided smile, and you instantly look away (if you maintain eye contact, you would be in a lot of trouble. and probably wouldn’t sleep the rest of the night.)
of course he’d do that when you’re not in private.
his gaze not drifting from you, ryland grins. “yeah, something like that, bud.”
“Mmm I want to stay in bed forever” Ryland Groans stretching out on top of you acting as your own personal blanket
You just softly chuckle, gently tracing patterns across Ryland’s back. “Yeah, sure thing baby good luck with that”
Ryland buries his face in your neck “mmm maybe if we stay really really silent he won’t be able to tell we are here” Ryland whispers against your skin, his words barely audible.
“Not sure thats exactly how it works Ry” you tease, fingers trailing up his back to gently message his scalp.
“It’s worth a try…” he mumbles melting from your comforting touch.
As if on cue you hear very familiar music notes ‘Where Grace question? Why Grace still sleep with mate question?” You hear from outside your house.
“Stay very still and quiet…” Ryland whispers
“Can still hear Grace. Eridians hear better than humans, Grace know this. Grace not very smart when first wake up statement” Rocky pointed out much to your amusement and Ryland’s annoyance.
“Come on Grace I think that means it’s time for you to get up and go to your work” You prompt, but make no effort to untangle the two of you.
“Yeah yeah- should have decided to work with Adrien like you did, but nooo I decided to teach and ended up getting the bossiest coworker ever” Ryland grumbles, reluctantly getting out of bed.
“Can still hear Grace. Rocky don’t know how ___ put up with Grace as mate, all Grace do complain complain complain. Grace also always late-”
“yes yes I know bud” Ryland huffs cutting him off. He shoots you an unimpressed look as you struggle to stifle your giggles. “I’ll be out in a second-“
Okay being besties with Adrian while Ryland is besties with Rocky.
Ryland and Rocky spend a lot of time together, obviously. They ramble way too much and match each other’s freak😭
Initially, Adrian was a bit distant from both you and Ryland. Come on, they needed a lot of time to catch up with their mate, Rocky. Once Rocky returned to normal, a massive chunk of Ryland’s time was naturally spent with Rocky.
That is how you found yourself hanging out with Adrian. Having spent all those years in space around Rocky, you fully understand the Eridian language. Adrian also respects that you are a savior of their species, just like Ryland.
After a while, the turquoise colored Eridian started actively spending time with you. You told Adrian all about the things that brought you peace back on Earth, while they shared how terrifying it was to wait all those years for Rocky to return.
It became obvious to every Eridian that while Ryland and Rocky are the ultimate duo, you and Adrian are best friends. You two bonded over the fact that both of your partners are absolute rambling idiots.
Now, the four of you go on double dates, a human concept that you introduced to your alien friends to bring a little piece of home to Erid.
It is fun because everyone understood each other's language now. You get to watch Rocky lean into Adrian while letting out melodious chords, all while Ryland’s pinky intertwines with yours as he interjects wherever he feels it is necessary.
Sometimes, you just spend time sighing with Adrian, silently agreeing on how stupidly endearing your partners can be.
hello!!!! ok first off your writing is amazing!!! im not sure if requests are open or if you take them at all but if u do, here is perhaps an idea... so ryland x reader and (up to you) but either theyre in space or on earth and reader is absolutley loopy for whatever reason (maybe theyre drunk, or inhaled some funky alien gas idk) and is just accidentally confessing their love for ryland and when it all wears off theyre like omg. but its all cute and happy in the end :) ok thats all, have an AMAZING day
Hiiii! Thank you so much ahhhh💕 can’t believe you like my silly little thoughts lolll. I loveeeee this idea so much, it’s so cute🥹 I didn’t expect it to be so long, but went with the flow😊 have a nice day/night!
Your cheers mixed with everyone else's as Eva Stratt finished singing Sign of the Times. A chill evening arranged on a stressful carrier ship was rare, but seeing Stratt participate in karaoke was practically a miracle. You watched her step down, her eyes briefly meeting Ryland’s with a knowing look before she slipped out the door. There was no doubt in your mind that he'd somehow convinced her to participate. Getting Eva Stratt to sing karaoke felt like a scientific breakthrough all on its own.
Your eyes lingered on Ryland Grace, who sat alone by the bar, flipping through a thin notebook and drinking a beer. Even now, during karaoke night, he was writing something down. He paused every few seconds to think, before scribbling another note. The sight should have been ridiculous. Instead, it was oddly endearing. You were just about to head over, hoping to chat with him, when another shot of vodka slid into your line of sight. Courtesy of Ilyukhina.
“Uhh, I think I’m done for the night, Olesya” you said, offering a weak smile. She brushed your words off like she does with things that don’t make sense to her. “Done? You’ve just had two shots. Just started” she states like it’s the most obvious thing. “It’s enough for me, really” you chuckle, pushing the glass away from you. “No. That’s enough for a school teacher, not you” she said, glancing over to where Ryland is then back to you, pushing the glass closer to you.
You snorted at this, and glanced toward Ryland. You found yourself studying him for a moment longer than necessary. Lately, that had become a problem. You noticed things about him constantly. Like how, right now, he’s scribbling down a note, nodding along to whatever song someone else was messing up on stage. You really didn’t want to drink more, the slight buzz from the first two was perfect. You sighed, grabbed the glass, and drowned the shot. Fuck it.
You really shouldn’t have taken that shot. Or the one after that. Honestly, you had completely lost count. You tried to convince yourself you weren't that drunk because you still had a vague sense of your surroundings. For instance, you knew Ilyukhina and a few others had dragged themselves up to the stage for a group song after you refused to join. You could see them laughing between lyrics. But the moment you tried to scan the room for Ryland and realized he was nowhere to be found, a sudden wave of dizziness hit you. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you leaned heavily into your chair. Yeah, you’re definitely drunk.
“Looks like you’ve been having a good time” the voice made your eyes snap open, or rather, blink open heavily. You didn't even need to look to know who it was. Ryland stood there, his notebook tucked under his arm, a soft, amused smile playing on his lips. You blinked a few times, trying to clear the haze, but the dim bar lights made the dark blonde strands of his hair look like a golden halo through your hazy brain.
“Mhmmm” you slurred, struggling to find your vocabulary, “good time”. Ryland’s eyebrows furrowed. His eyes swept over you, taking in the way you were swaying slightly in your seat and squinting at him as if the low lighting was blinding. He opened his mouth to ask if you were okay, but you beat him to it.
“Hey, Dr Graceee” you dragged out the syllable, letting out a loose giggle. You propped your elbow clumsily on the table, resting your cheek heavily in your palm, “you’re so cute”. Ryland’s brain seem visibly lag. You watched him awkwardly chuckle, shifting his weight. “Um. I, uh... thanks?” he settled on, a blush spreading across his face.
He looked incredibly adorable. His glasses were slightly crooked, and he unconsciously pulled his knit cardigan tighter around him. If you were sober, you would have forced yourself into silence by now. But you weren't sober. “And the foxes are so cute,” you mumbled, pointing a lazy finger at a stitched fox on his cardigan, “makes you look cozyyy”.
For a guy who spoke for a living, Ryland was entirely at a loss for words. You had never talked to him like this. Sure, you joked around in the lab, laughed at his terrible science puns that usually only worked on his middle schoolers, and helped him solve problems whenever he needs it, told him about your life before the mission, listened to him talk about his. But you had never called him cute. Or cozy. Inside his chest, Ryland’s heart rate spiked, the hidden affection he had been harboring for you threatening to break free. He knew you were drunk. He knew the alcohol was just jumbling your thoughts. Yet, looking at you, he felt like he was entirely melting. Realizing you were in no civilian condition to navigate a military carrier ship, he cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn't crack.
“Yeah, they’re cute” he said softly, offering his hand, “you know what would be even cozier? Your bed. Let’s get you back to your room so you can call it a night”. You clumsily placed your hand in his and stood up. Immediately, your legs turned to jello. You stumbled forward, leaning heavily against his arm to stop the room from spinning. Instinctively, Ryland’s arm shot around your waist to steady you.
The moment his hand pressed against your hip, nervousness ran through him. His fingers twitched against your waist, his mind racing to think of literally anything else as you clutched his cardigan, pulling yourself flush against his side. Drunk, he reminded himself. They are just drunk.
“Bed?” your voice was muffled against the wool of his sweater as he guided you out into the corridor. “You’re takin’ me to bed?” You giggled. Ryland felt his cheeks burn bright red at the implication, despite the crisp, chilly ocean breeze that hit you both as you stepped into the open-air walkway. “No! Uh, no. Just taking you to your room so you don’t fall face-first onto the deck. Stratt wouldn’t like it if a team member got a concussion on a mission to save the world. Because, you know, the sun is dying. Of course you know that. Why am I explaining the sun to you...” He trailed off, his mouth running on anxious adrenaline.
A cold breeze swept through the corridor as you reached the living quarters. Shivering, you burrowed deeper into his side. The sudden movement caused your lips to brush right against the exposed skin of his neck. A shiver ran down Ryland’s spine, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the weather. “Mmm cold” you mumbled, your lips moving against his warm skin.
Ryland felt like he was having a sensory overload. Balancing you, holding your waist, feeling your breath on his neck - it felt entirely like a dream. Taking a deep breath, he gently began to pull you back. You immediately whined, resisting the distance, “what are you doin’, Ry? Why? Do you...do you not like me?” That stopped him in his tracks. His blue eyes widened behind his crooked glasses. “W-what?” It was so absurd to hear you ask that when his chest ached with how much he adored you. When your lips formed a little pout, he panicked, “I-I’m just giving you my sweater! So you aren't cold!”.
Without another thought, he shrugged out of his favorite cardigan, leaving himself in a white undershirt with a printed Project Hail Mary logo. He wrapped the oversized knit around your shoulders. His scent and the lingering warmth of the wool only made your head spin faster. You looked up at him, and found him already staring down at you, his gaze darting across your face, looking overwhelmed by how adorable you looked enveloped in his clothes. You pulled your hands out of the sleeves just enough to clutch the lapels tightly. “Smells like you, Ry” you smiled sleepily.
Before he could process the skipping of his heartbeat, you took two steps forward, stumbled over your own feet, and gasped, ready for the fall. Ryland caught you flawlessly, his arm sliding right back around your waist, pulling you securely against his side. For the rest of the walk he practically took on the entirety of your weight.
“Here we go” he whispered, stopping outside your room. He looked down, noting that your eyes were incredibly droopy as you leaned your forehead against his shoulder, “Hey... come on, where’s your key?” You let out a soft noise, “pocket”. Trying to be as careful as possible, his free hand slipped into the front pocket of your pants, took out the key card, and tapped. The door clicked open, and he guided you into the room.
The door clicked shut behind you. Ryland guided you toward the bed, gently lowering you onto the mattress so your back rested against the headboard. But as he began to pull away to get you some water, your hands shot out, grabbing his arm and pulling him back down. “Woah!” He gasped at the sudden tug, his breath catching as he found himself hovering mere inches from your face.
“Y’re so nice, Ry” you mumbled. Your hand slid down his forearm, your fingers clumsy but determined as they locked with his, pulling until he had no choice but to sit down on the edge of the mattress. He sat, his chest heaving slightly, “I-uh, it’s nothing, really. Just looking out for a friend. No big deal” he tried to say casually, offering a nervous smile. You frowned, “Noooo” you dragged out, “you’re nice. And sweet. You always help me without me even asking. You always smile at me...even when we’re working on a mission that’s so, so serious”. The alcohol left you completely unfiltered, all the hidden affection you had kept locked away came pouring out. “And you’re funny. You crack these awful jokes that aren’t even funny, but they make me laugh anyway. Because you try, you try to make heavy things feel lighter. And I love how you smile to yourself when I laugh at them”. Ryland was entirely frozen, his hand encased in yours. At this point, not even able to say a single word, too stunned with your honesty.
“You’re so smart, Ry. So, so, so smart” you smiled up at him, your eyes glassy but genuine. “Don't know how you do it, but you figure everything out. So, I just don't understand how you haven't figured out that I love you”. If Ryland Grace was anything, he was a man of science. He knew time is relative, he knew it was impossible to halt it. But in that exact moment, watching you look at him with a profound look, listing things about him that you adore, things that he didn’t even notice himself, he would have argued with Einstein himself that time had completely stopped.
“I love you so much, Ry. You’re so many awesome things, and to top it off, you’re gorgeous” you sighed, your voice growing softer, heavier, “you’re a genius, but you’re so clumsy sometimes, and it’s just so endearing. It’s so you. And you wear those stupid science pun t-shirts, I personally love them, only because you make them look good. And then you try to hide the graphics with a jacket whenever a high military person walks in...”. Slowly, clumsily, your free hand reached up, your fingers gently pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, he holds it breath at the contact. “Your glasses are never in the right position. And you’re always rambling...” Your eyelids fluttered due to the alcohol, and exhaustion from talking too much. “It’s all so cute. Sometimes I can’t even focus on the data because I’m distracted by how much I love you”. Your hand slipped from his face, falling limply onto the bed, “so much” you mumbled as your breathing evened out, completely knocked out by the alcohol.
Ryland sat in the quiet room for some time, completely still. He was afraid to move. Afraid that if he did, the moment would somehow disappear and he'd realize he'd imagined everything. The realization hit him again with the same force it had a minute ago. You loved him, not hypothetically, not maybe. You loved him. A soft, smile slowly stretched across his face. Gently, he lifted your legs onto the bed after taking your shoes off, pulled the blanket up over your shoulders, and tucked you in. "You're going to freak out tomorrow” he chuckles, looking at your face. He lingered for just a second, his thumb gently brushing a stray hair from your forehead, before he quietly slipped out into the corridor, smiling the entire time.
The morning light filtering through the small window, forced you to wake up, a pounding sensation against your skull. You groaned, clutching your head as you rolled over, trying to bury your face back into the pillow. Instead of the familiar feel of the pillowcase, you felt the softness of wool. Your eyes snapped open, ignoring the flash of pain behind your eyelids, you looked down. Ryland’s fox cardigan. What the fuck - you thought.
Feeling confused, you step out of bed, making your way to the tiny bathroom. The splash of water against your face helped your mind gain some clarity. The memories of previous night came rushing back. Horrific details like you calling him cute, burying your face in his neck, whining that he didn't like you. Fuck. More details flashed as you brushed your teeth. Dragging him onto your bed by his arm. And worst of all - the humiliating, unfiltered monologue where you exposed every single vulnerable feeling you had for him. You called him gorgeous, and confessed your love before passing out like a dead weight. “Oh my God” you whispered, leaning your head against the bathroom door. The embarrassment and panic settled into you. He was your friend, a scientist that’s helping save the world. And you had practically traumatized him with an aggressive confession. You wanted the ship to sink, wanted the astrophage to consume the sun immediately just to spare you the embarrassment of walking out your door. How were you supposed to look him in the eye? How were you supposed to work with him without dying of shame?
A knock paused your spiralling thoughts. “Hey” Ryland’s voice followed, after the knock. Your breath hitched, your blood turned to ice. Maybe if I stay completely still, he'll think I died of alcohol poisoning, you thought desperately. The knocking continued. The sound made your head ache worse. You realised there is no escaping this. You dragged yourself to the door, turned the lock, and pulled the door open just a crack. Ryland stood there, looking fresh, although, his hair was messy as always and glasses crooked. He was holding two mugs of coffee and a small pack of aspirin. He offered a shy, soft, and slightly cautious smile, “Hey. Thought you might need some caffeine, and an aspirin”.
“Ry” your voice cracked. You stepped aside, letting him walk into the small room. He set the mugs down on your desk, before he turned around to face you. The silence was suffocating, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Ryland, please just listen to me” you started, your words frantic, “I’m so, so, so sorry about last night. The alcohol completely took over me, I rambled, and I said all the stupid, inappropriate things to you, and crossed a line. Shit, I’m horrified right now, Ry. All of it was completely out of line, and I understand if going forward, you want to keep things strictly professional, or you don’t want to talk to me ever again. I want you to know that I value our friendship, and I never want to make you uncomfortable, and I-I’m just so, so sorry for putting you in that position”. You finally stopped to breathe, your eyes squeezed shut, preparing yourself for the polite, awkward rejection you were sure was coming. But it didn't come.
Instead, the room remained quiet until you felt Ryland’s fingers gently reach out over your tight fists. His fingers uncurled your fingers to hold them with his. “Are you done panicking?” He asked softly, followed by a chuckle. You opened your eyes, “Ry-” he doesn’t let you continue this time. “Now you listen to me” he said, his blue eyes locking onto yours with total sincerity. He squeezed your hands gently. “You don't ever have to apologize to me for that. Especially not for being honest. Last night, when you were saying all those things, I sat on the edge of this bed and I felt like my brain had completely short-circuited. Because the truth is, I fe-feel the same way about you, I have felt this way for months” he finishes with a sharp exhale. Your jaw dropped, your heart skipped beat, “W-what?” You asked in shock.
“I do” Ryland said, his face coloring with a deep blush, but he didn't look away. He took a shaky breath, his thumbs gently tracing circles over the backs of your hands, “I may be an intellect, but I’m completely blind when it comes to this, because I didn’t think that the person I adore actually cared about me back. So please, don't take back a single word. Because hearing you say you loved me was the best thing that’s happened to me in a long, long time”.
You stood there, completely stunned, the remaining throbbing of your hangover entirely forgotten as you felt overwhelming joy. “You really mean that?” you whispered, “you’re not just saying this to save my dignity?”. He let out a genuine laugh, “I mean every single word. I just didn’t have the courage to say it out loud before. So, I should be thanking you for drunkenly confessing your feeling to me”. His fingers moved to your face, caressing your cheeks, “Also, my jokes are funny” he said, smiling at you.
“They’re not” you whispered, not giving him a chance to react, you surge forward to catch his lips with yours. He let out a surprised noise against your lips, but immediately kisses you back. Your fingers tangled into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. He angles your head to deepen the kiss. By the time you pull back, both you were breathing heavily.
His forehead rested against yours, “Okay” his breath hitting your lips, “if you’re gonna kiss me every time you want to make a point, I’m fine with being proved wrong”. You both laughed, feeling that maybe everything will be fine.
