a side blog for @lovetals where i do all my reblogs and rambles (aka: no story writings).
list of tags i use are listed below the cut in case any followers wish to avoid or seek out for that specific content (and for me to keep track of hehe)
general:
#ace attorney - any and all content for the ace attorney series (usually just stuff for the phoenix wright trilogy)
#ddlc - any and all content for doki doki literature club
#death note - any and all content for death note
#fnaf - any and all content for the five nights at freddy’s series
#genshin - any and all content for genshin impact
#hsr - any and all content for honkai: star rail (sometimes just shortened to star rail)
#jjba - any and all content for the jojo’s bizarre adventure series
#kh - any and all content for the kingdom hearts series
#kirby - any and all content for the kirby series
#loz - any and all content for the legend of zelda series (sometimes shortened as botw instead)
#omori - any and all content for omori
#pokemon - any and all content for the pokemon series
#sekai - any and all content for project sekai/colorful stage
#tgaa - any and all content for the great ace attorney
#twst - any and all content for twisted wonderland
#vocaloid - any and all content for vocaloid (usually paired with project sekai)
#ygo - any and all content for yugioh
#favorite - general list of my personal favorites
#[fandom] art - official artwork for the specified fandom
#[fandom] fanart - fanart done for the specified fandom
#[fandom] favorite - personal favorites of mine for that specified fandom; usually fanfics but can include other things as well
#[fandom] smau - fake social media content for the specified fandom (ie, texts they’d send, instagram accounts they’d have, etc.)
#[fandom] fake dating - fake dating trope used for the specified fandom (one of my favorite tropes)
#yandere - yandere content in general; used for fandoms and original works
#yandere [fandom] - yandere content for the specified fandom
#yandere favorite - personal favorites of mine for all yandere content
character names are also used as a tag of their own
#[character] art - official artwork for the specified character
#[character] fanart - fanart done for the specified character
#[character] favorite - personal favorites of mine for the specified character
#yandere [character] - yandere content for the specified character
#plume tagged - a tag i use whenever someone tags me in something i reply to (tag games, basically)
#plume rambles - a tag i use when making a post just talking about something random
tags: tooth rotting fluff, first kiss, so much fluff
a/n: love you all! this post is gorg hello
divider cred: me!
The Hail Mary had been… something. You’d woken a few weeks after Grace, with jumbled memories of an aircraft carrier and lots of karaoke at the forefront of your mind. A few slow days had passed as the two of you slowly figured out yourselves and the ship. You had been put on as an assistant pilot, semi-decent at the science (you thank the stars every day for Grace and his mind), and the two of you slowly fell into a rhythm.
Rocky had been the saving grace for the two of you—a breath of fresh air and motivation to keep going. Grace watched from afar, fascinated by the way you listened to Rocky. He always read off the screen of his computer while you sat, back to the xenonite, and analyzed the melodic tunes the Rocky let out. “Were you good with music?” He asks one day as your eyes trace Rocky’s form as he sleeps.
“I think so. From what I can remember, I played piano and guitar, and I think I loved to sing.” The man lets out a soft hmph, making you smile and turn to look at him. “The first memories that came back were karaoke on the ship.”
“I wonder if Rocky would like you to sing.” Your brow raises as your face pinches in thought.
“Maybe.”
“You shy?” He teases gently, making you wave him back before looking back at the alien.
“Maybe I’ll sing.”
🜸
The hamster ball was certainly… something. You couldn’t stop laughing as Grace chased Rocky through the ship. “Rocky! Rocky!” The alien skids to a stop, facing the man as you bite back a giggle. “Guess what?”
“What, question?”
“She’s a singer.” You watch Rocky’s whole body freeze before happily perking up and moving closer to you.
“Human, sing! Demand!” Grace shakes with quiet laughter as your jaw drops at the word.
“Demand?” You ask, astonished.
“Eridians use music as communication! Want to hear human music from favorite human!”
“I thought I was your favorite human!” Grace interjects with a soft pout, making you snicker.
“Grace not sing. Grace is now second favorite human.” Your laughter gets louder, and Grace can’t help but smile at the sound.
“I never said yes.” A noise that can only be described as a pathetic whine leaves Rocky’s carapace, and he starts to ram his ball into the side of your arm.
“Please, please, please, please, please, please, Grace, help convince other human please.”
“You’re really going to leave Rock hanging like that?” You open your mouth to speak, but fall short with a long sigh.
“Fine! Fine! I’ll sing.” Rocky excitedly does jazz hands and spins around in his xenonite ball.
“Sing! Sing! Sing!” You move to one of the computers, scrolling through the endless catalog of music Stratt had uploaded, smiling as you settle on a song. Grace and Rocky sit politely like two excited puppies.
I took my love, I took it down
Climbed a mountain, and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills
'Til the landslide brought me down
Excited jitters immediately leave Rocky, his form spinning around in his ball, Grace smiling at the familiar tune.
Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
Grace can’t help but watch you, enamored, butterflies attacking his chest as pink fills his cheeks. Rocky swayed to the slow beat, attention completely zeroed in on the soundwaves of your voice.
Well, I've been 'fraid of changin'
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I'm gettin' older, too
Rocky stiffens for a moment as Grace’s voice joins yours, the lyrics familiar on his lips. Rocky’s carapace turns to look between the two of you excitedly. “Grace sing!”
🜸
Grace slipped his glasses off his nose to slowly rub his face, the lack of sleep catching up to him. He stretches his arms out with a soft groan, standing to head towards the bed. He stops at the top of the hatch, hearing a soft melody from your lips. He peers in to find Rocky’s xenonite ball on your chest as you sang softly to the alien.
“Rocky likes human songs. Likes meaning.” The alien says softly, making your smile widen.
“Eridian songs have meaning, don’t they?”
“Not like humans. Song on Erid has purpose, not meaning.”
“Can you sing one?”
“Will sing Rocky favorite song! Is song Rocky mother sing to Rocky when Rocky pebble! Betime song for human!” Grace finds himself leaning against the cool metal of the doorway, watching as Rocky’s carapace starts to emit different frequencies of noise. The song sounded slightly disjointed, some of the frequencies too high or low for you or Grace to hear with human ears, but your smile softened nonetheless.
“That’s so beautiful, Rock… How is your mother?” Your fingers press into the softest layer of the xenonite ball, gently holding Rocky’s claws.
“Rocky mother die. Lived very long, happy life with many pebbles! Rocky have many siblings!”
“I’m sorry, Rocky…” Your grip tightens around the stone claws.
“Is not bad! Death on Erid a celebration! Rocky mother was doctor! Did many amazing things for Erid.”
“Why Grace watching, question?” Grace freezes in his spot as you look back at the man. “Grace spying, question?”
“Just watching, Rock.”
“Grace heart rate elevate. More blood in cheeks.”
“Ergo, you’re blushing. You tease gently.
“Thanks. I got that.” Grace quips sarcastically. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Grace need female human betime song!” Rocky spins, making you groan.
“Careful, Rocky… you’re heavy.” A soft apology thrums through the aliens as he curls back up on your chest.
“Grace come listen to song.”
“Is that ok with you?” The blonde man asks gently.
“Course.” You murmur gently. “Any requests?”
“You’re the one singing; do whatever you please.” He settles on the floor next to your bunk, arms folded gently on the side of your bed, skin warm against yours as his eyes fix on you.
A dream is a wish your heart makes
When you're fast asleep
In dreams you will lose your heartaches
Whatever you wish for, you keep
Grace watches your profile with a gentle smile, feeling Rocky’s happy vibrations through the contact of your arm with his.
Have faith in your dreams and someday
Your rainbow will come smiling through
No matter how your heart is grieving
If you keep on believing
The dream that you wish will come true
He feels his eyelids start to drop, the weight of his head growing heavier as your voice fills his mind, the petrova line and astrophage disappearing for a long moment. Rocky's noises slowly cease as sleep invades his mind. You glance between the two, smiling at the sleeping bodies you’ve become sandwiched between.
🜸
When Grace wakes up, he groans at the soreness from the position he’d slept in but pauses as his eyes open, finding your face right in front of his own. Your chest rose and fell with soft breaths, and Rocky snuggled asleep on your chest.
As much as his back hurt, he couldn’t find it within himself to move. It felt like the closest he’d ever be able to get to you without taking the terrifying step of asking the only other human he was with in space to date him.
He snaps out of his daze as you murmur and your eyes flutter open. “Grace?”
“Your lullaby really worked… Rocky was right.” He whispers, leaning forward to kiss your forehead, mind still hazy with sleep. The action makes your stomach flutter as a smile graces your lips.
“I’m that good?” You quip softly.
“Can I kiss you?” He breathes out suddenly, making your brows raise. “I’m sorry–”
“You really want to?”
“If you’ll let me.”
“I’ve got morning breath.” You blurt softly, making the man let out a soft laugh.
“If you kiss me now… we can probably share a couple more after we brush our teeth?” He suggests gently, making a giggle slip from your lips.
“If you really don’t mind–” The warmth is immediate, and it makes your eyes flutter shut with a soft hum. The hum makes Rocky perk up from sleep, letting out a shriek-like noise, the two of you pulling apart.
“What is? Disgust! Disgust! Disgust!” Grace is redder than you’ve ever seen him as you try to force out some words to explain to the alien what is going on.
“It a– a human thing! It’s called a kiss.” Grace whispers, eyes focused on the suddenly interesting bedding.
“Is kiss like Rocky and Adrian in Rocky movie? Is declaration of love?”
“Something like that,” you murmur.
“Grace, no longer idiot! Grace smart smart smart to kiss other human!” Rocky’s jazz hands make you smile.
“What does that mean?”
“Rocky’s speaking nonsense–” Grace blurts.
“No! Rocky not speak nonsense! Rocky only speak sense! Grace speak over and over in lab about female human! Too shy to initiate mating and courting rituals!” Grace somehow gets redder as your laughter grows louder.
warnings: school party with parents ; long-term relationship ; Holly ; jealous Holland ; fluff ; a bit of flirting at the end
note : Holly said it would be nice if you came, and then Holland felt threatened.
a/n : This has been in my draft for a long time. And today is the day…
[Ryan Gosling masterlist] [main masterlist]
The moment Holly quietly slid onto the stool by the kitchen counter, Holland already knew something was up.
The two of you had just gotten home with grocery bags and takeout cartons balanced in your arms. You’d disappeared into the bedroom to change into something more comfortable while Holland busied himself unpacking dinner. He loosened his tie with one hand and pulled containers of pasta from the bag with the other before glancing toward his daughter.
“What’s wrong, kiddo?” he asked. “You look like you’re about to tell me we have to leave the state.”
“There’s a thing,” Holly muttered. “I mean, it’s not a huge deal, but…”
“But?”
She sighed dramatically. “The school’s doing a Mother’s Day event the day after tomorrow. Everyone’s bringing their mom or aunt or somebody from their family and I was kinda wondering…” She looked up at him with those big hopeful eyes. “Do you think I could invite her?”
“Oh.”
That caught him off guard a little. But in a good way.
Holland had known for a long time that you had slipped into their little family with alarming ease. Your clothes had somehow claimed permanent space in his closet, one of your hair clips lived beside the kitchen sink, and Holly’s half-finished school project still sat under the living room window where the two of you had abandoned it the night before.
Leaning back against the counter, he studied his daughter carefully. “You want her there?” he asked softly.
Holly shrugged, pretending to play it cool. “I mean, it’s not a big deal. Just some school thing. But…it’d be nice.”
“Mhmm.” Holland nodded slowly.
He knew his daughter too well. Whenever Holly said it wasn’t a big deal, it usually meant it mattered a lot.
“I think,” he said, “you should ask her yourself. During dinner. Use the food as bribery.”
Holly perked up immediately. “You think bribery’ll work?”
“It always works on me.”
“That explains a lot.”
A moment later your footsteps echoed down the hallway and you appeared in the kitchen wearing one of Holland’s oversized t-shirts, something he pretended not to notice while secretly loving the sight of far too much.
“Something smells good,” you said, peeking over Holly’s shoulder.
“As the only man in this household,” Holland announced proudly, “I have returned with food for my girls. Sit down before I pass out.”
You settled beside Holly, already reaching for your fork when you noticed how stiffly she was sitting. Your eyes flicked toward Holland suspiciously, but he only smiled innocently.
“Were you two talking about something while I was gone?” you asked.
Holly glanced at her father, then back at you. “There’s a thing,” she began.
And then the words came tumbling out in one long nervous rush - that it really wasn’t a huge deal, and you absolutely didn’t have to go if you didn’t want to, but there’d be games and activities and food and everybody else would be there and you had that really pretty dress you could wear and…
Eventually she stopped, lips pressed together tightly as though she were waiting for a verdict. Across the takeout boxes, you exchanged a glance with Holland.
“Well, Holly,” you said gently, “I think that sounds wonderful, and I’d love to go with you. If you really want me there. And you’re right, that dress does sound perfect for the occasion.”
Holly’s head snapped up so fast it nearly gave Holland whiplash. “Really?”
“Of course. It sounds really good.”
Holland nodded solemnly. “The dress is gonna be a real crowd-pleaser.”
“It definitely will!” Holly nearly clapped. “Mr. Phillips is gonna lose his mind when he sees her in it.”
“Mr…” Holland blinked.
“Mr. Phillips. The gym teacher, Dad.” Holly rolled her eyes dramatically, though you were almost certain she’d brought him up specifically to irritate her father. “He flirts with all the pretty moms.”
You laughed softly. Holland’s blue eyes immediately shifted toward you as he pointed his fork in your direction.
“Remember,” he warned, “you already have a charming single father at home.”
“I think I can handle one PE teacher,” you teased.
“Oh yeah? That’s how every tragic love story starts. One PTA event later and suddenly I’m alone, drinking whiskey in a motel…”
“Dad, you’re being dramatic!”
“I’m being emotionally attacked at my own dinner table. I didn’t realize a school event could destroy my relationship.”
And for the next fifteen minutes Holland continued spiraling theatrically while Holly took immense joy in making it worse.
The event’s day, when you and Holly were getting ready to leave, Holland had to be talked into staying home.
The dress was “too pretty,” you were “too attractive,” and the gym teacher, whom he had never seen in his life, was apparently “a criminal who specializes in ruining healthy relationships.”
Only after you promised that you would, in fact, come back home afterward, and not run away to Las Vegas to marry an athletic PE teacher, did he finally allow you to leave.
When you returned, the afternoon sun filled the house with a warm, golden glow. Holly was the first into the living room and immediately spotted her father sprawled on the couch. His sleeves were rolled up, several buttons on his shirt were undone, and his tie had long since been abandoned.
“Look what we got!” Holly announced proudly, holding up the two gold medals hanging around her neck. “She was incredible! Three-legged race and archery. Seriously. Wow.”
“Oh, stop,” you groaned, unable to hide your smile as you stepped inside behind her and shut the door. “The competition wasn’t exactly fierce.”
“Jessica’s mom turned bright red,” Holly whispered conspiratorially. “I don’t even like her. She deserved it.”
“Holly!”
You kicked off your heels and collapsed beside Holland on the couch. He looked at you with open fondness and something softer underneath it.
“You volunteered for the competitions?” he asked. Without thinking, his large hands reached for your legs, lifting them effortlessly into his lap. His thumbs immediately began rubbing slow circles against your calves.
“You didn’t see Jessica’s mom,” you said, struggling not to laugh. “She was so competitive. She wanted every medal.”
“I’m proud of you,” Holland said. “Both of you.”
Holly wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge in search of snacks. “Mr. Phillips thought she was amazing too,” she tossed over her shoulder casually.
You felt Holland freeze. His eyes widened slightly, fingers tightening just a little around your calf.
“Oh really?” he asked suspiciously calmly.
“Mhm.” Holly pulled out leftover pasta. “He was very impressed by her athletic ability.”
“Oh.”
You bit your lip hard to stop yourself from laughing. Holland’s eyes never left you.
“And he offered to help her stretch afterward,” Holly continued sweetly. “You know. Since she looked so good in that dress.”
“Holly?” Holland smiled and pointed down the hall. “Could you check if you’re in your room now?”
“Dad!”
“Now. Please.”
The moment Holly’s bedroom door shut, Holland let out a long suffering sigh. You had absolutely no chance of escaping while he still had your legs trapped across his lap.
“So,” he drawled, “how’s Mr. Phillips doing these days? You must’ve made quite the impression on him, sweetheart.”
You swallowed carefully. “He was very nice,” you admitted.
“Nice.”
“And athletic. I mean, he teaches PE. He also coaches basketball.”
“Athletic.”
Holland’s jaw tightened slightly.
“And…” You tried very hard to stay serious. “He has a really cute bald spot.”
Holland stared at you. “He’s bald?”
You nodded.
“Thank God.”
You burst out laughing as his head dropped dramatically against the couch cushion, relief washing across his face.
“I was so close to going over there and burying him under the football field,” he muttered. “But if he’s bald…”
“So now you’re not threatened anymore?”
“I’m still threatened! My self-esteem is fragile and nobody in this house is helping.”
You tried to slide your legs away, but Holland only held on tighter.
“No. Stay. This is nice.”
You tucked a pillow beneath your head and stretched out more comfortably against the couch. The long emotional day was finally catching up with you. All you wanted now was a hot shower and comfortable clothes.
“Holly really enjoyed it today,” Holland said quietly after a moment. His voice softened completely. “You made her really happy.”
You smiled. “I’m glad I could do that for her. And honestly… I had fun too.”
A lazy grin spread across his face. “Another March hopelessly in love with you. Must be difficult.”
“I can handle it.”
He leaned down and pressed a kiss just above your knee. Your fingers slid into his soft hair where it had fallen over his forehead. Evening sunlight spilled through the room in warm red-gold waves. You were about to say something when Holland suddenly lifted his head, mischief sparkling in his eyes.
“You know,” he mused, “I’m not surprised Mr. Phillips was impressed by your athletic ability.”
You narrowed your eyes immediately.
“With all the cardio training we do together…”
“Holland!” You shot a glance toward Holly’s closed bedroom door.
“What?” he said innocently. “I care about your fitness.” He shrugged, though the grin tugging at his mouth gave him away completely. “Maybe we should do a little training tonight too.” He winked. “Think my performance would improve if I stretched first?”
You buried your face in your hands, trying desperately not to laugh. Holland’s hand slid higher beneath your dress, squeezing your thigh gently while his lips brushed your skin again.
“I’m really glad you didn’t leave me for some athletic coach.”
“How could I?” you murmured. “Emotionally unstable detectives are much more my type.”
synopsis. you and colt, ryland’s twin brother, meet for the first time which means he can finally talk to the person he has only heard about for three whole years (3.3k words)
note. part 4 and i think final part of just confess is officially here ! this one is dedicated to @sinsilk who is the number 1 advocate of this segment
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
Ryland thinks he’s finally free.
He has confessed to you, something he thought was impossible for three whole years of his life. And he’d survived a very threatening interrogation with his thirteen-year-olds. He is invincible, really.
He is invincible as he walks you home after another dinner with you. He is invincible with your hand intertwined in his, with the warmth emanating from you as you walk with him by side.
Four steps instead of two.
He is invincible as he gets to call you his girlfriend, gets to kiss you, gets to hold you however he pleases. Even with his compromised motor functions immediately after.
Still, Ryland Grace is invincible.
Or, he was, up until this moment.
(But, he doesn’t know that yet.)
"You sure your brother isn't home? Not that I wouldn’t mind meeting him.”
The question leaves your mouth just as Ryland unlocks the door to his apartment door.
"I'm positive." Ryland says, pushing the door open before halting just as he’s about to walk in. “Well, actually. There is a very high probability he isn’t home.”
You laugh. "That just means you don't know, or you’re not sure."
"No, I know." He insists. "Colt texted me this morning. He's supposed to be on set all day."
Supposed to be. It’s a very important distinction.
Ryland, however, doesn’t account for the unpredictability of Tom Ryder, the same man who had acted up and chanced an opportunity for Colt to visit his brother that one fateful day he’d finally confessed to you.
Tom Ryder, who he’s about to find out, has once again struck. Because of course he would. Of course, the world would transpire against him to accidentally summon a disaster that is patiently waiting for him.
He finally steps in, taking your coat from you and setting it beside his. He’s blinded for a second that another coat seems to be hanging innocently by their door. He’s just thinking about how your future apartment would look with your smaller coat beside his bigger one.
Perhaps, he was at fault for not noticing the signs of another person in the apartment.
“I’ll just reheat these, okay? Don’t miss me too much.” Ryland is looking at you, lifting the containers of takeout he’s balancing in his arms. And you roll your eyes fondly at your boyfriend, nodding your head.
“And please, sit. Feel at home, baby.”
Ryland is invincible. He’s having his moment with his girlfriend sitting on his couch, and—
A voice drifts from somewhere deeper in the apartment.
"Hey Ry? Did you eat the leftovers from…"
That voice is not supposed to be there.
The man that has emerged from his room and is now standing in the hallway is also not supposed to be there.
But there he is, anyway. Tall, broad-shouldered, and identically handsome to your boyfriend.
Though, he’s a little more rough around the edges. There are bruises and cuts to him that are indicative of another life. Far from your boyfriend’s life that is tucked in the safety of the four corners of a classroom (aside from the very threatening children he deals with).
Everyone in the room freezes.
It’s comical the way all of you stand within a distance from each other, eyes darting back and forth like watching a table-tennis match.
Ryland. You. Colt. Back and forth and back and forth.
It’s like the whole apartment decides to collectively stop functioning at such unpredictability, at the unexpectedness of suddenly meeting the only other person of importance in Ryland’s life.
(All thanks to Tom Ryder, who has sent the entire crew home early because he couldn’t find his phone.)
And then, after a comedic minute of complete and utter silence, Colt finally cuts through the deafening air.
His hand has lifted from where they were running through his hair earlier. Now, it’s pointing directly at you. “You.”
“Me.”
Ryland cannot stop the situation. Cannot do anything to break against the chains of what his brother is about to do.
He is no longer invincible. He is standing in between his twin brother and his girlfriend, and he knows there is no outcome of this meeting where he isn’t at a loss. Colt knows too much. Too much information you’re not aware of.
“You’re the girlfriend.” He’s still stunned, which is a surprising emotion to ever bewitch him knowing that he does stuntwork for a living. Nothing surprises him anymore, but apparently you, sitting on their apartment’s couch, really does the work.
Then, he looks at Ryland, outstretching his arm further to really point at you now. “That’s her.”
There is a particular ecstatic tone when he says the first word.
“Colt, let’s think about this for a moment.” A plea is escaping Ryland’s mouth that is going ignored because Colt is immediately talking over him.
"Oh my god.” His voice is an octave higher. He’s clearly excited. ”I’m finally meeting your girlfriend after you’ve denied me so many times."
"What are you even doing here?! You’re supposed to be at work!”
Ryland is still ignored. Colt is too fascinated by you.
"So, you’re the one who takes her coffee with too much creamer."
You stare, dumbfounded at the situation that you’re subjected to. And how odd it was that your boyfriend’s lookalike is reciting your coffee order to you.
"You know how I take my coffee?"
“Of course I do!”
Colt says it like it’s the most obvious thing.
Of course he knows. How could he not when Ryland never shuts up about you? And he knows so much more that he absolutely can’t wait to tell you because what is a brother’s life for if not to embarrass his sibling?
“Ry, I didn’t know you talked about me this much.”
“He really does.” Colt replies off-handedly.
“I’m kind of flattered.”
Color drains from where they were on Ryland’s face.
His head is working hard, trying to extract himself and you away from this very moment. He’s jumping through hoops and fences, because it was already bad that his twin brother was meeting you. It’s even worse that he’s immediately revealing sensitive information said in confidentiality.
"Okay." Ryland says carefully, after a few seconds of racking his brain for a solution. He decides against a term of endearment for now because it is a weapon that Colt knows to use when you’re gone from the apartment, and there is infinite time to tease the man.
"(Name), maybe we should just go to a cafe nearby—“
“No!” Colt immediately interjects. “You are not taking this moment away from me. Ry, I deserve to meet her. For Christ’s sake, I know her favorite tea, too."
"Oh my god, stop talking."
"You told me. You spent three years telling me everything."
"Please spare me, somebody. Please. World, you can end now. I’ve lived my life.” Ryland doesn’t know who he’s begging at this point because he has reached a point of no return.
He had failed to predict Tom Ryder’s behavior, failed to keep his twin brother from you who is now sitting on the couch next to you with a shit-eating grin on his face.
There is a pointed glare directed at Colt that he ignores as he obstinately stares at you.
"You actually exist. I mean, I’ve seen you very briefly. But wow, my brother didn’t make you up.”
You’re laughing now, in contrast from the way you’d blinked up at the boy earlier. It’s the worst possible outcome because however insufferable Colt is, he’s actually really good with people.
Ryland feels a headache forming.
“I always thought Ryland was exaggerating about you. He’s always telling me how pretty you are, how blinding your smile is, and every possible compliment on this planet. And yet, he wasn’t exaggerating at all.”
"Oh my god. Dude, are you flirting with my girlfriend?" Ryland groans loudly, glaring daggers at the audacity of his brother.
He’s still standing in the kitchen, like keeping his distance could magically keep this moment from happening. From unraveling right in front of his eyes.
“I’m not!” And then, he extends a hand. "I’m Colt."
This is the moment Colt has been waiting for. He has waited three years for his character introduction. Waited even longer to meet absolutely any girlfriend of Ryland’s.
You shake it. "(Name)."
"I already know your name actually, but it’s nice to meet you. Just wanted to be formal."
You’re shaking your head in disbelief and there is a smile on your lips that is more amused than anything else—at how blunt the man is, at how he says every single thought that is forming in his head, at how easy his smile is, and now at how he’s looking at Ryland and then back at you with a sort of mischief in his eyes.
Absolutely not.
Ryland knows that look.
That is the look of another problem about to unfold.
"Sooooo." Colt says, drawling out the ‘o’s before finally twisting the knife he had stabbed Ryland with from this unexpected meeting. "You kissed him yet?"
Ryland twitches at the question, and immediately has flashbacks of the same very question one of his students had asked him during his lava segment.
What is it with people and kissing?
"Colt!”
There is something like suppressed laughter on your face, and Ryland officially decides to never grant Colt fucking Seavers another favor ever again, no matter how desperately he begs.
Colt, however, seems delighted and unaware of the ultimatum in Ryland’s head.
“I have, actually. Ten out of ten experience.”
“(Name)?!” He doesn’t expect you to bite, but you did. You’re actually enjoying yourself, too.
“Woah, buddy, I didn’t think you had it in you.” Colt is clapping his hands, immensely proud of his brother before his attention is back on you. "Because I did mention I’ve seen you briefly before, right? It was that day when he confessed to you. Oh, you should've seen him before confessing. And now he’s kissing you?”
Ryland is now behind the both of you on the couch, and his hand is on his brother’s shoulder, and he’s shaking him a little in a last desperate attempt for him to shut up, but Colt has no social cues and he intends to continue what he has started.
"He nearly threw up, did you know? He stared through your classroom window for ten minutes."
"Hey, okay, okay. Now I have to defend myself. It was not ten minutes."
"It was absolutely ten minutes. But I get why he was so nervous. How the hell did he even pull you? It must be that nerd charm, huh?”
“I am standing right here, by the way.”
“I know.”
You are laughing so hard you're nearly bent over.
While Ryland would’ve preferred for this moment to not have happened yet, he can’t even truly be upset. Because here you were, laughing so hard, and looking so happy. Here you were reaching a hand up at him every time Colt said something remotely embarrassing. Here you were looking at him with that softness in your eyes that’s reserved only for him.
"You're enjoying this too much.”
Ryland is reduced to a pouting mess, cheeks painted in red as he is finally seated on the couch next to you. And he’s embarrassed, but also strangely touched that Colt remembers all of this.
Your head is on his shoulder instantly, looking up at him. "Immensely."
"See?" Colt says. "She gets me. Isn’t it so much fun to tease him? It’s so easy."
“It is.” You giggle in agreement, and Ryland is looking at you with mock treachery.
“You’re supposed to be on my side. Do boyfriend privileges not mean anything anymore?”
“I am! But I’m also just being honest. You are kind of easy to tease, baby.”
"She’s my new best friend." Colt is saying, excited at the prospect of teaming up with you, and Ryland is quick to shut it down.
“Nope. Absolutely not. You’ve only known her for ten minutes.”
“And yet it feels like I’ve known her for… three years.” Colt is grinning. “Which, technically, I have.”
You and Colt fall into easy conversation next to him, and it feels like the first of many meetings.
Your common topic is, of course, the other man on the couch with you, but sometimes he’d ask about your work and you’d ask about his. You’d bond over movie quotes and recommendations.
And while Ryland had expected to come home to a quiet apartment, maybe drink a bit of wine and makeout with you for a little bit, he finds he doesn’t actually mind the sudden change in plans. He doesn’t mind just watching you laugh with his brother, all happy and comfortable, and fitting right into the only family he has left.
Something warm settles in his chest.
Because he has always known he was in love with you, but it has reached new extents seeing you interact with family. He didn’t know just how much he really loves you.
Because love has never been found outside of his classroom, and outside of this apartment. Outside of both were things that were unfamiliar and out of his control. There was no safety net of his knowledge, or his brother. There was only a lack of understanding outside.
But then he’d met you, and love had learned to bloom outside of his comforts.
And now, two of the most important people in his life are finally in the same room. Even if he knows you’re obviously conspiring against him, and even though there are multiple things that will come out of Colt’s mouth that he wished just stayed inside his head.
“So.” You suddenly question, in such an innocent tone, and the two of you glance at each other before looking at Colt. “Anything else I need to know about my boyfriend?”
“You’re going to be here all night if I tell you everything.”
“I’m not in a hurry.”
"You told him that?"
You stare at Ryland after yet another secret exposed by his twin brother.
Wow, having you and his twin brother in the same conversation really is the equivalent of two against one. Because apparently, it has become bonding to laugh at his misery.
Ryland stares at the ceiling, trying to think of an answer, but Colt is already doing it for him.
"Oh, sweetheart, that's not even in the Top Ten"
“Please, stop this. I have a mysterious image to uphold.” Ryland’s pleas are yet again, ignored completely. It seems to be a common thing.
"Yeah, not mysterious at all. You know how some people keep journals?" Colt continues, still engaged in conversation with you. "Well, my brother uses me as a journal."
“No, no no. Journals don’t talk back and make fun of you. Journals are safe, you are evil.”
You burst out laughing, nipped in a crimson red from the cold air and from laughing too much. Your eyes are a little watery, remnants of the pure, unadulterated happiness emanating from you.
“Now it’s time to shut up. Go to bed. Come on. You have told her everything.” Ryland is banging the back of his head against the couch.
“I haven’t even told her half of everything.”
“You told her about the tea.”
"Because it was weird. Come on, you kept talking to me about coffee, and then suddenly it was tea? And you expected me to just know?"
"It wasn't weird. That’s normal information to know.”
"I mean, I guess it’s not as weird as that step-by-step rejection plan."
Your mouth drops open. "Step-by-step rejection plan?"
Ryland covers his face, all but buries the entirety of his face in the palm of his hands because there really was no getting out of this, and no predicting the words that comes out of Colt’s mouth, his twin brother who just can’t shut up.
"It was just a few steps."
"Yeah, more like over ten steps. It was written on a whiteboard in his room, too.”
“Okay, maybe more than a few steps. That’s still not weird! That’s just being prepared.”
“Awww, Ry.” You look at your boyfriend, suddenly so endeared by everything you’re learning. “You’re so cute.”
While distracted, Colt tries to reach for the reheated takeout food that’s on the table in front of you, but Ryland is quick to slap his hand away. "Absolutely not."
"I live here."
“You don’t deserve it after everything you’ve said today.”
It really is so silly, the same identical brothers almost in a copy-paste fashion, but with such opposite personalities. Entirely on two different spectrums of one another.
"Don’t you think I deserve it after having to listen to you for three years?" Colt is moaning and groaning and moping before shifting his attention to you.
"There wasn't a single week."
"No, stop. Wait, you can get the food. You can get the food!”
"Not one that went by without your name being mentioned."
You blink, then slowly turn toward Ryland who is still so flustered.
You swear you'd never seen his features this red before, but it wasn't like you were any different. Knowing that he had been talking about you for that long has you matching his shade of red.
Colt throws both hands into the air. "Now I’m finally free!"
And Ryland immediately spots the way your smile softens, and the way your eyes grow incredibly fond. It’s a sight that still has him feeling like somebody reached inside and squeezed his heart.
“Did you really like me that much?”
Ryland laughs nervously, a hand scratching the back of his head. In a whisper, he responds, “Of course I did. I still do. I really really like you.”
You’re leaning closer to him now, bottom lip jutted out in pure endearment at your boyfriend, and the things you continue to know.
"I can't believe you." You sound so fond. "You should've told me sooner."
"Oh trust me, I tried to get him to.” Colt butts in, suspiciously sounding like his mouth is full of the food that was previously on your table.
Ryland immediately points at him. “This isn’t about you.”
“But it is a little bit about me.” Colt looks between the two of you, completely ignoring him. “I’m just saying. I made this happen. I got you to confess.”
Ryland opens his mouth and immediately closes it.
“I hate that you’re right.”
Colt says something else, but Ryland barely hears him anymore, because his attention is back on you and on the way you’re looking at him, and the way you whisper his name at him.
You’re reaching out for his tie now, pulling him even closer to you, and whispering. “Haven’t I been obvious?”
And Ryland is shaking his head because he couldn’t even possibly think you could ever like him. He didn’t think it possible because you were you and he was him.
And then, just as unpredictable as fuckass Tom Ryder, you kiss him.
Right there, just because your heart is warm and filled with so much fondness at finding out just how much your boyfriend really liked you for three years that he had brought his twin brother down with him and treated him like his own personal diary. That Colt knows so much about you because Ryland talks about you with so much love.
Ryland would’ve deepened his kiss, had Colt not suddenly screeched an awfully loud, “Awwwww!”
You pull away just in time to see Colt press both hands over his heart. "My brother. All grown up."
"Leave. Please."
"Falling in love."
“Take the food. Go to your room.”
"Kissing girls."
"Colt."
"Okay, okay." He throws his hands up, but he’s still grinning. "Oh, by the way, (Name), we're definitely hanging out again."
“Yup.”
"What?" Ryland’s head whips embarrassingly fast at hearing your response. “Nope. Whatever is happening here right now.”
He’s gesturing wildly with his hands, pointing back and forth between you and his twin brother. “Whatever this is stops here.”
“But baby, I wanna know more about you and your life. And that includes your twin brother.”
"You heard her. Listen to your girlfriend, buddy.”
Ryland looks between the two of you, a long, deep, defeated sigh leaving him.
Because this is his life now, he realizes. His girlfriend and his twin brother have officially met, and it seems that they are going to meet even more. An alliance was forming, and you were going to hear so much more from Colt than he wanted you to, yet.
Yet, as Colt retreats in his room, and as you stay cuddled up on his couch, Ryland can’t help the happiness that swells in his heart.
summary: the four times Ryland’s students questioned his relationship with you, and the one time they got an answer
word count: 2.7k
warnings/tags: your students play matchmaker and love gossiping, ryland owns a car here, pureee fluff
The first time was what initially caught his students’ attention.
Teenagers, albeit being annoyingly nosy, were also incredibly perceptive. And unfortunately for Ryland, about ten heads snapped up in his direction as he emerged from your classroom five minutes before lunch was going to end.
He held the door open, his body halfway out the threshold, yet still thoroughly engrossed in whatever conversation he was having with you. Even from thirty feet away, his students could see as clear as day that he did not want to leave.
And then, you appeared at the door. You playfully shooed him out, lips turning upwards into a smile, making some witty comment that the kids were too far away to hear. He said something in response, eliciting a small laugh from you as you took yet another step closer, nearly toe to toe with him.
Now, even more kids had their full, undivided attention on you, closely monitoring your little interaction while their food went cold. To them, getting to witness their teachers’ love lives unfurl was infinitely better than eating a stale peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
The most peculiar thing was Ryland’s reaction to your close proximity. His students watched in amazement as their favorite clumsy, shy, nerdy science teacher who often tripped over his own two feet seemed entirely unaffected by the fact that you were a few inches away from his face. In fact, he might have leaned in.
Olivia rubbed her eyes and squinted, not even trying to disguise her blatant staring at this point. Before she could check again, Ryland was already speed walking back to his classroom, no doubt hustling to prepare the science lab he had planned for today before the flood of kids came back from lunch.
She turned back to her classmates, many of which were still watching his retreating figure. Others had their eyes trained on your classroom door, lost in thought.
She started the conversation everyone was itching to have. “So, we all saw that, right?”
A chorus of agreement echoed amongst the small crowd, quickly devolving into hushed gossip and frantic whispers.
“Is it just me, or did Mr. Grace have a little more pep in his step just now?”
“Oh totally— and he definitely didn’t want to leave her classroom.”
“What about her? Did you guys see the smile she gave him?”
“What about the smile he gave her?”
Before the debate could continue, the bell rang, forcing the chatty kids to trudge back to their classes in unanimous disappointment at their conversation getting interrupted. Unbeknownst to you or Ryland, this was only the first of many times this hot topic would be brought up amongst your prying students.
— - — - —
The second time was during a school assembly.
Students and faculty alike were gathered in the multi-purpose room, with the kids sitting to face the stage and the teachers lining the walls of the large room. The principal, an abysmally monotonous man, continued to drone on about rules, regulations, and upcoming events, much to everyone’s disappointment.
Your kids were supposed to be paying attention, but a large number of them had their heads twisted in awkward positions, trying to sneak a glimpse of you and Ryland.
The two of you were standing in the back with less than a foot of distance separating you. Periodically, Ryland would lean down to whisper in your ear, making you giggle at his words. In turn, you’d reach up on your tiptoes to whisper something in response, and he’d nod with a soft smile.
A few teachers nearby shot you looks of disapproval for being disruptive, and you mouthed a quick apology to your peers. Not thirty seconds later though, your head was inadvertently turning back to Ryland, and he did the exact same.
Despite being told off not a minute earlier, the two of you continued to talk in hushed voices, trying to be even more discreet than before. Honestly, you guys might’ve been worse than the children.
James, a particularly rowdy student in Ryland’s class, turned to Sarah, who could easily match Olivia’s smarts in your English class. Both of their watchful eyes never left the two of you at the back of the room. He murmured to her, “I get it’s cramped, but they definitely don’t need to be standing that close.”
“Agreed,” she muttered back.
Olivia wasn’t far, and decided to join in on the conversation. “Mr. Grace is totally blushing every time she reaches up to whisper in his ear.” She had no qualms about exposing her science teacher, which made James and Sarah unexpectedly laugh.
Before they could get out another word, the meanest, crankiest teacher to ever curse Grover Cleveland Middle School with her presence snapped her head towards them, shushing them ten times louder than they were speaking.
“If you three don’t stop talking, it’ll be detention for a week,” she snarled, beady eyes watching them like a hawk.
Regretfully, they clamped their mouths shut, but the three of them, along with everyone else that had been watching you and Ryland, were all thinking the same: you two seemed awfully close, both physically and socially.
— - — - —
The third time took place after school, during the murky month of December.
The San Francisco weather decided to attack the school with an onslaught of rain, making it almost impossible to walk in the open without getting assaulted by vicious pellets of water.
A cluster of students huddled inside the safety of the school building, waiting for their parents to roll up to the front of the campus so they wouldn’t get completely drenched on their way to the car.
Olivia, while looking through the window at the dismal conditions outside, noticed you standing under an overhang alone. You had your coat drawn tight around you, trying to keep the frigid air out and your body heat in, and your eyes periodically wandered to the screen of your phone, like you were waiting for someone. Perhaps someone was coming to pick you up?
Before she could continue that thought, a familiar teacher’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
“Hey kiddos,” Ryland waved to the small group as he approached. “Waiting for parents?”
He was met with a series of nods, making him crack a smile. “Alright, make sure you all get home safe, yeah?”
“Yes, Mr. Grace,” some students said in unison.
Ryland chuckled and continued towards the door, raising his hand as a silent goodbye. With his other hand, he carried an umbrella, well prepared for the harsh rain.
Most of her peers looked away as Ryland pushed the door open, but Olivia kept her eyes trained on her teacher. As soon as he stepped outside, he made a beeline for you, already starting to open the umbrella.
He must have called out your name, because you turned to greet him, perking up with a warm smile. An easy conversation flowed between the two of you as he made his way over, but the next part made Olivia’s jaw drop.
Like clockwork, the two of you set off towards the parking lot, sharing the umbrella without missing a beat of your conversation. Ryland’s larger frame made you seem small in comparison, and he was mindful to keep the umbrella lower and slightly more on your side, ensuring you were fully protected from the rain. His left shoulder, on the other hand, started to get slightly wet, but he seemed to pay no mind as he listened to you talk with a genuine smile.
“Guys. Guys!! Look!” was all Olivia managed to say before a horde of students rushed to the window, trying to get a better view of their favorite teachers recreating this classic romance trope.
“Move, I can’t see ‘em!”
“Hey you’re shoving me!”
Then, a collective hush fell over the group, and Olivia craned her head around her peers to get a glimpse at what they were staring at. A small gasp escaped her too.
It was difficult to see due to the far distance and the reduced visibility in the rain, but it was unmistakable. There was Ryland, covering you with the umbrella as you got into the passenger seat of a car. After closing the door behind you, the science teacher walked around the front of the car, got into the driver’s seat, and slowly reversed out of the parking spot.
He wasn’t just walking you to your car. He was driving you home.
The silence lasted a moment longer before the group erupted into excited chatter, each kid trying to talk over the other.
“What the hell was that??”
“He offered her a ride home, obviously! It’s raining hard, so he’s being a gentleman!”
“They seemed so comfortable with each other though, what’s that about?”
“What if they’re dating?”
That last question caught everyone’s attention. Sure, it had definitely crossed everyone’s minds, but most brushed it off. It seemed unfathomable. Could their beloved, klutz of a science teacher really pull someone as gorgeous as you?
“No no,” someone finally cut in. “Mr. Grace wouldn’t have the guts to ask her out in the first place.”
“Yeah,” another chimed in. “Maybe he’s just crushing on her!”
A chorus of awww’s resounded throughout the room, and the debate of your relationship status was momentarily settled.
— - — - —
The fourth time shattered all of their conspiracy theories of Mr. Grace merely pining over their English teacher, because it was clearly something more.
It was finally that time of the year— prom. Most kids stood in clusters with their friends, while other, braver souls worked up the nerve to ask their crush to dance. The low lighting provided a moody atmosphere despite the upbeat party music, and compliments were constantly getting thrown around over dresses, shoes, and hair-dos. A typical middle school dance.
Of course, all school events required supervision, so you and Ryland volunteered to chaperone this year. You guys were standing in the back of the room, looking like you were engaged in normal conversation. You in a modest black dress, Ryland in a simple dress shirt and tie.
What you didn’t know though, were the dozen or so pairs of eyes locked onto your figures from the opposite wall, hidden in shadow and whispering furiously.
“Dude, look at the way he stares at her!”
“He’s so in love.”
“Quit staring so hard, they’ll notice you.”
Meanwhile, you and Ryland were casually chatting away, completely oblivious to your students’ antics.
You sucked in a breath, a little hesitant to bring up something that’s been gnawing away at your mind for the past few months. Ryland, as always, immediately noticed. “What is it?” he asked.
“Oh, I dunno,” you sighed.
He gave you an expectant look, silently questioning if you really thought he wouldn’t notice something’s been bothering you. It was true— no one could read you as easily as Ryland.
“Fine fine,” you smiled, “it’s just… have you noticed our kids acting a little, um,”
“Weird?” he finished with a knowing look.
“Exactly. Recently, if we’ve been talking, I’ll turn away from our conversation and find a handful of students staring at me from across campus. It’s unsettling.” You shuddered just thinking about it.
“I get it,” Ryland agreed while surveying the area. His eyes met the small group of kids that had been staring at you guys, all of whom were now looking at the ceiling, the ground, each other— anywhere other than in your direction. It was painfully obvious. You shared a look with Ryland, both of you shaking your heads before bursting into laughter.
Suddenly, a slow song came on, and you turned to Ryland with a soft smile. He was quick to offer his hand, which you accepted with a mock curtsy. In your little corner, the two of you swayed to the soft melody, lost in your own little world. All that mattered in the moment was the feeling of each other’s arms and the warmth of your shared love.
As you let the rhythm wash over you, you turned to Ryland, voice barely above a whisper. “You think they’re watching?”
“Oh I know they’re watching,” he huffed.
You let out a small giggle, amused by how involved your students were in your relationship. Brushing off the thought, you decided to just let teenagers be teenagers, instead focusing your attention on the way Ryland’s strong hands held your own.
And your students on the other side of the room? They were going ballistic while watching you.
“So he really pulled her? They’re dating?!”
“This is insane.”
“Someone needs to document this.”
“Why are they so cute??”
— - — - —
The school year was finally coming to a close, and everyone agreed they simply couldn’t leave the case of you and Mr. Grace unsettled. After much deliberation amongst the class, they all came to the consensus that today was the day. They were going to get answers out of you guys, whether you liked it or not.
They went to great lengths to corner the two of you. Olivia planted a note in your class, trying her best to mimic Mr. Grace’s handwriting: Meet me in my class after school.
You didn’t think much of the forged note. Ryland often slipped you random things, so you folded it up and tucked the parchment away, packing up to head over to his class like you often did.
In Ryland’s classroom on the other hand, he was wrapping up a lecture on cell anatomy just as the final bell rang. He clapped once, starting to erase the whiteboard. “Alright kiddos, we’ll finish this up tomorro—”
As he turned around, he was more than a little stunned to see his entire class still seated, desks cleared and their full attention bouncing between him and the door.
“Oookay, what’s going on,” he said slowly, trying to follow their gaze. “Did I imagine the bell ringing, or..?”
And then, when you walked in, it all clicked for Ryland. He turned to his students, gaze sweeping over their smug smiles and looks of anticipation.
You gave a little knock to signal your entry, “Hey Ry, you wanted to see...” you trailed off, noticing about thirty kids staring at you when you entered. You slowly made your way to his side, watching the class with a glimmer of amusement in your eyes. “What’ve we got here?”
“This is a set up,” he sighed. Not a question, but an observation. He placed his hands on his hips and tilted his head, unsure of whether to smile or frown, so he opted for shaking his head in disbelief.
As the designated question asker, Olivia raised her hand, and Ryland nodded in confirmation for her to speak. “When did you start dating?”
They expected flustered denial, a poor cover up story, or for you guys to dodge the question completely. But to everyone’s shock, you and Ryland turned to each other simultaneously… and started laughing.
“Wh— What’s so funny?” James asked.
“Yeah, haven't you been trying to hide it this whole year?” another chimed in.
You waved your arms dismissively, shoulders still shaking with laughter. “Well, not exactly.”
Ryland just pinched the bridge of his nose, still in disbelief that his students thought you were dating.
“So, what’s your relationship then?” Olivia asked. Everyone leaned in, awaiting your response.
With a sly smile, you glanced at Ryland, then looked over the group of teens practically about to fall out of their seats in anticipation. “Well,” you started. “Let’s just say… I use my maiden name while teaching.”
Olivia let out a huge gasp, and the others whipped their heads toward her, clearly still confused.
“What?”
“Olivia, what’s that mean?”
Kids were clambering to get her attention, but Olivia just continued to stare at you in shock, and you just gave her a small nod of encouragement. Slowly, you reached to interlock hands with Ryland, and he squeezed your fingers with affection. He turned to give you a helpless smile, like he was silently apologizing for his students’ behavior. You just softly chuckled, choosing to lean your head on his shoulder instead.
“You— she—” Olivia could barely get the words out.
Her peers groaned in frustration, “what is it?!”
Then, you dropped the equivalent of an atomic bomb in the middle of the room— you raised your left hand, flashing a modest diamond ring adorning your finger.
Everyone was stunned, and Olivia confirmed what they were all struggling to believe.
“It means,” she said slowly, “Her last name is Grace.”
a/n: it might be kinda unrealistic for them not to notice your wedding bands but let’s just go along with it... as always, thanks for reading !!
r.grace x fem!reader ⋮ soft&sweet ⋮ eridian chaos ⋮ ryland calls reader 'sunshine' ⋮ adrian mention !! ⋮ no use of y/n ⋮ reader's appearance is not detailed ⋮ fluffy fluff
It looks like it's 5am.
The biodome was still in its night cycle, slowly brightening every few minutes to imitate a day on earth. there's a soft breeze that feels like a gentle caress. it's the perfect temperature for Ryland's sweater that's wrapped around your shoulders.
You're sitting on the beach with him. His leg presses against yours, body heat bleeding into your skin. A mug of tea sits in your hands. it's spiced and goes down easy, feeling like a soothing balm in the chilly weather.
Ryland has his own cup, held haphazardly as he looks out at the water with squinted eyes. You can only see the side of his face—the delicate slope of his nose, angle of his jaw, and the way his throat works each swallow. Even in the dim light he's the most breathtaking person you'd ever seen.
This had become a ritual for the two of you. Each morning, you'd wake up early to be in each other's company. Some days you'd sit on the beach, play Scrabble, or discuss the silly things the Pebbles said during class. It was a slice of normality you'd clung to. Having quiet moments with Ryland before the day chaos set in.
You take a deep breath in, letting the salty air infiltrate your lungs. The Eridians had finally gotten the temperature perfect. It was warm but not too warm, and the perfect amount of cool to feel refreshing.
Ryland lazily wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He's solid muscle but touches tender. Gentle in each motion. His head dips down to press a kiss against your temple, sighing against your skin.
The scent of soap and mint twirls around you like a comforting embrace. It's a smell that's always lingered around Ryland. You were sure if you could only smell this for the rest of your life, you'd be happy. He smelled like home.
"Missed you last night." You mumble, letting your head rest on his shoulder.
"I know." His sleep-frayed voice comes out low and deep. "Sorry, sunshine. Rocky was asking me so many questions last night—and then Adrian chimed in and.."
A soft laugh bubbles in your throat. Leave it up to the two of the biggest chatterboxes to keep your chatterbox boyfriend chattering for hours.
"What were they asking you about?"
Ryland sighs, pausing for a moment. His voice comes out sheepishly. "They were on the laptop. Rocky found out about marriage and Adrian wanted to know when we would—"
"No way." You murmur, big grin stretching across your face. You crane your neck to look up at him from your place on his shoulder.
Ryland looks down, breath fanning across your face softly. "Way. She was all like, why grace and mate no marry, question?"
That sounded exactly like Adrian. You could hear her sassy tone in your head, even envision her putting one of her limbs against her carapace like she was cocking her hip.
"What'd you say?" You ask him, voice softening.
Ryland gazes at your sparkling eyes. They're the eyes he looked into each morning and night, knowing he'd never be able to live without them. There's a second where he doesn't want to admit what he said. It brought a light blush to dust his cheeks, making him swallow before speaking.
"I..uh, said I hadn't asked you yet."
Yet.
That meant something entirely different from I haven't asked. He said he hadn't asked yet. Meaning the thought of it had been in his mind—and that he intended to act upon it. The breath is your lungs gets stolen. It catches in your throat, frozen there like a lump.
He wanted to marry you.
It didn't matter when—what mattered was that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. Warmth unfurls through your limbs like wildfire.
The mug of tea gets discarded in the sand. Your hand comes up to cup the side of his face and bring him in for a gentle kiss.
His lips brush against yours. He smiles into the kiss, pressing tenderly against yours. It's loving. It's the kind of kiss that's light in pressure but heavy in words.
When you pull back, you're looking at him like he'd hung the stars in the sky.
"I'd say yes if you did." You whisper.
Ryland's eyes widen. there's a second where he thinks he didn't hear you correctly. But he had. You said you'd agree to getting married to him. His heart skips a beat in his chest.
The tips of his ears turn pink. "Yeah?"
You grin at the bashful tone of his voice. "Yeah, I would."
He lets your words sink into his skin.
They unlock a feeling of adoration in his chest. He'd thought about asking you to marry him since they touched down on Erid. It was in the back of his mind, speaking to him like the green goblin mask. But he's always pushed it away. It was unethical. The Eridians had no idea how to throw a wedding—well, they didn't until last night.
But now they do.
And gosh, he wanted to marry you.
"Marry me." He says quietly, raising a hand to cup your cheek. "Make me the happiest man on Erid and be the women I wake up to and fall asleep to."
His thumb runs over your cheekbone, a bittersweet smile curving the corners of his mouth up.
Tears spring to your eyes.
They prickle at your lashes, just collecting, never doing you the service of dripping down your cheek.
synopsis. ryland grace is convinced he's hiding his new relationship perfectly. his students have a twenty-point evidence list that says otherwise (4.2k words)
note. part 3 of just confess but could also stand alone on its own :) idea was brought to life by @b3rry2pointo hihi lmk if any of u want a part 4 where you finally meet colt or anything else u want to be brought to life in this universe
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4
Kids are… difficult. The beginning of teenhood? Even worse.
Ryland Grace, of all people, would know this. He’s been teaching Science in Grover Cleveland Middle School for almost four years now. And he loves the kids, he really does. And he likes to believe they carry a moderate amount of respect for him too.
But kids are difficult. They like to gossip, and they’re at that weird stage where they’re learning intensely about human reproduction. On top of that, they’re getting into their first relationships which would put Romance and Who’s Dating Who? at the top of their list when they’re gathering in circles.
Ryland normally doesn’t mind. They’re in the age of exploring themselves, and exploring who they like and who they don’t. So, normally, he really wouldn’t mind.
Well, until his name starts being dropped in conversations and gossip.
He isn’t aware at first.
(Bless him and his oblivious heart.)
And he really thinks he’s been really sneaky about his newly formed relationship with you, the school’s English teacher. But what are kids if not a little more clever and sly than the adults that supervise them?
Their first sign really was the smiling.
This wouldn’t have caused alarm to his students in normal circumstances, because their teacher has always been a little cheerful. Even more when he’s talking about topics that interest him, topics in his field of specialty. But the way he was smiling recently? It was different.
They would know. They’ve observed numerous victims with the same stupid lovesick smile—their classmates, kids from the lower grade, even their parents. It has been the subject in conversation a few times, used as evidence against kids who swore they didn’t have a crush on that person.
And their dear Science teacher? He had that stupid lovesick smile on his face if they’ve ever seen one.
Whispers immediately erupt mid-activity.
"Holy crap."
"What?"
Kevin lowers his voice. "Look at Mr. Grace."
The few rows of students behind him immediately turned their attention to their teacher, who was innocently sitting at the desk in front of them, staring at his phone while waiting for them to turn in their activities.
Oh, and he was smiling, alright. Grinning. Like a total idiot.
"Is he texting someone?"
"He has to be. It’s a girlfriend. Trust me, I know these things."
This prompts a few more students to maneuver their attention from the worksheet on their table to Ryland, who still remains unaware, thumbs moving across the screen of his phone.
And, if it wasn’t already obvious, his smile stretches a little more. Until, he abruptly locks his phone and places it in his jean pocket. “Alright, let’s—”
His hands are in the air, mid-action of a clap, but he freezes in place when he catches almost the entire class staring at him.
“Why are we staring?” Ryland turns around to check if there’s something behind him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he looks back at his class. They all have the same knowing grins on their faces, but they choose to say nothing.
For now, at least.
Ryland really doesn’t know what’s in store for him.
“Alright, that’s time. Hand over your papers, and don’t forget about the quiz tomorrow about photosynthesis and the components of the plant cell.”
Ryland really doesn’t know what’s in store for him.
Since then, his students have taken to spying.
Their loser of a teacher couldn't possibly have met someone outside of school. Sure, Mr. Grace wasn't ugly. Some of the girls in class even had harmless little crushes on him. He was smart, too. Funny in a dorky sort of way. He had enough charm that, theoretically, dating shouldn't be impossible.
The problem was that he was still, in his entirety, Ryland Grace.
He wasn't exactly the type to walk up to a stranger and start a conversation. So if there was suddenly someone in his life? It had to be someone from school.
A breakthrough seems to happen in their research right before their eyes when lunch period rolls along a few days later, in the form of the teachers’ lounge that was a little visible from a certain part of the courtyard.
Fortunately for Olivia, she had been walking past when a certain Science teacher caught her eyes. She immediately summons her co-authors to sit at the table with a direct view of the window peering into the space their teachers lounge in during lunch break.
“Look, look! Don’t be obvious.”
Half the people at the table turn.
Olivia hisses. “I said don’t be obvious!”
But low and behold, there it was. Mr. Grace and you. Sitting together, and talking, and laughing, and sharing the same takeout food.
“Holy shit.”
“Dude!”
As if the evidence wasn’t incriminating enough, Ryland has the audacity to steal one of your potato wedges which earns him a smack in his hand by you. And the smile that follows. Oh, that stupid lovesick smile they had seen from a few days ago.
Everyone at the courtyard is losing their minds. “That was flirting!”
“That was absolutely flirting. Did you see the way he smiled at her?”
“Ms. (Name) is the one he was texting!”
“And the way she laughed at him, too?”
“We’ve cracked the case.”
Olivia shakes her head. “We need more evidence.”
You and Ryland having lunch together, like you always do even before he had confessed, had unknowingly catapulted their investigation.
Their next piece of evidence would go down in history as The Cardigan Incident.
Almost cemented in Grover Cleveland Middle School as a school legend.
It had been a quiet evening in your classroom.
Most of the students had already gone home, leaving the halls unusually peaceful. Outside the windows, the sky had faded from gold to navy blue, the last traces of sunlight disappearing behind distant buildings.
Inside, you and Ryland sat across from each other, grading papers.
It was almost routine by now.
Every few days, one of you would wander into the other's classroom after the final bell with an armful of assignments and a complaint about how middle schoolers somehow managed to invent entirely new ways to get questions wrong.
Tonight was no different.
Ryland was flipping through a stack of science quizzes while you worked through essays.
The silence between the two of you was comfortable. Always easy.
Unknown to the both of you, just a few doors down, a group of students had stayed late to prepare for an upcoming mathematics competition. They were just finishing up when they headed down the hallway to meet their waiting parents outside.
And they would've walked right past your classroom. Really would’ve, had someone not noticed movement through the window.
"Why is there somebody still in there?"
Everyone freezes at the question.
The classroom lights are on, but the hallway is dark enough that all they can see are vague silhouettes moving inside.
For one horrifying second, somebody whispers, "Is that the ghost everyone keeps talking about?"
They immediately start to back away from the door. “Oh, no no no no. I am not about to become school history.”
But of course, in a group, there is always one brave soul. One kid who volunteers to check again, rushing past his peers valiantly and squinting through the small glass panel to hopefully catch a glance of Grover’s Ghost.
He doesn’t expect what he sees. It’s the last thing he expects.
"...Wait, that's Mr. Grace. He’s with…"
Everybody crowds forward. "What?"
"Move."
"Let me see."
"Get your big head out of the way. Some of us want to see!"
Meanwhile, entirely unaware of the surveillance operation unfolding outside your classroom, you rub your hands over your arms.
The school's heating system had apparently given up hours ago, so it felt like winter had come early in the four corners of your classroom. With teeth clattering, you try to power through. Though, not without making an offhanded comment to your boyfriend. "It's freezing in here."
Ryland glances up from his papers, red pen mid-air as he immediately shifts his attention to you.
He always does that. Always invests all his attention when you say something.
"Huh? Did you say something, honey?"
You tug your sleeves down over your hands. "I think the school’s trying to save money again. It’s like, really cold. Freezing cold. Deadly cold."
Ryland laughs at your accusations.
“I mean, freezing the teachers is definitely cheaper than fixing the school’s heaters.”
"Of course we’re the sacrifice."
Another laugh bubbles up from his throat, shaking his head as he pushes his glasses further up his nose with one finger. He only turns his attention away when you return to grading your essays.
Or, at least he tries to turn his attention away, but he can see you rubbing your arms again through his peripheral vision and it just won’t do.
Without looking up for more than a second, he reaches for the cardigan hanging over the back of his chair.
Outside the room, several students stop breathing.
Inside the room, however, Ryland simply stands. And before you can understand what he’s doing, he drapes the cardigan over your shoulders, helping your arms catch the sleeves.
The gesture is so casual it almost seems like it’s been done so many times before. A hundred times even.
"Ryland."
"What?"
"You're gonna be cold."
He shrugs, smiling at you so softly that you feel something squeeze your heart, sit on your sternum, constrict your diaphragm. "I'll survive."
You pull the cardigan tighter around yourself.
It's warm, and it smells like him. Coffee and dry-erase markers and the soap you bought him for his birthday last year.
"Thanks."
Ryland offers a distracted smile as he returns to grading. "Don't mention it."
Outside the classroom, absolute chaos erupts.
"He did the movie thing."
"What movie thing?"
"The jacket thing! The thing where the guy gives his jacket to the girl he likes!"
A collective gasp sweeps through the group.
"Oh my God."
"Someone take a picture."
"I'm trying."
"Hurry up!"
"Zoom it in!"
“My camera won’t focus!”
Inside the classroom, Ryland circles a wrong answer in red pen.
Outside the classroom, an entire investigation gains enough evidence to sustain itself for a decade.
Ryland Grace starts to notice his students acting odd on an unassuming Tuesday.
He's halfway through collecting the day's activity sheets when he spots a cluster of students gathered around Rekha in the back of the classroom, whispering with the kind of intensity usually reserved for scientific breakthroughs.
Now, Ryland isn't one to stick his nose into other people's business. Still, the final bell rang five minutes ago, and if they don't start heading home soon, their parents are going to start wondering where they are.
"Okay," he says, making his way toward the group, "what's got you guys so busy back here?"
A chorus of startled yelps erupts.
Someone immediately tries to snatch the paper away.
Unfortunately for them, Ryland catches it in his hand, and takes quite a long glimpse before it disappears from him.
He was, however, able to read:
Evidence:
(1) Smiling like an idiot.
(2) Shared an umbrella once.
(3) Eating lunch together.
(4) He carries her bag.
(5) The cardigan incident.
(6) Kevin swears he saw her fixing his tie last week.
(7) Said "good morning" to Ms. (Name) three times.
The students scatter, and someone throws the piece of paper in the trash. And within seconds, they're grabbing backpacks, muttering excuses, and practically sprinting out of the classroom.
Ryland blinks after them.
"What was that about?” He mutters more to himself than to anyone.
He assumes it's harmless gossip. Some kid probably has a crush, and the rest of them are playing detective.
Then a single word catches in his mind.
Tie.
No one wears a tie to school.
Ryland is already dismissing the whole thing when he passes the narrow glass panel in the classroom door and catches his reflection.
His hand instinctively rises to the tie around his neck.
The tie.
The one you'd absentmindedly straightened for him last week before a faculty meeting.
Ryland freezes.
"...Oh."
A beat passes.
"...Oh, no."
Ryland Grace is afraid.
Well, he’s afraid of a lot of things—heights, conflicts, public speaking, anything that could cause a physical injury. And above all, thirteen-year-olds. Specifically, his thirteen-year-olds.
Because they definitely know something, and it’s definitely (ninety-nine percent sure) your relationship.
He’s started to notice it. The staring, the whispering, the suspiciously innocent smiles, and that damn piece of paper with their own list of evidence against him.
Unfortunately, today's schedule is doing him absolutely no favors. You and Ryland had been paired up to accompany your students to the planetary exhibition in your school’s hall. Which means that’s several hours of supervision, and several hours of being under their observation, their lingering stares, their whispers.
Kids are menacing, even more teens. And it seems he had been the chosen victim to their gossip.
“(Name), honey?” He asks. He’s still trying to find ease in calling you a petname, because he honestly still can’t believe you’ve reciprocated his feelings. That you’re actually his girlfriend. It’s so new on his tongue, but it’s a welcomed change.
“Yeah?”
The pressing matter returns to him, and he has to stay on topic. It’s only been a few weeks since you’d answered his confession. How does his students already know?
Ryland lowers his voice. "I think the kids know about us."
You blink, looking up from the stack of papers with attendance sheets you’d printed out.
"Really? How’d you come to that conclusion?”
“They stare.”
You laugh.
"No, seriously. They stare like they know something. Trust me, I know that look.”
Your smile widens, and Ryland immediately loses his train of thought.
(Which happens a lot these days. A lot more than he'd ever admit. It’s definitely because of you.)
"You know.” You say, leaning forward slightly. “If they do know, it's probably because you're terrible at hiding how much you like me."
His eyebrows shoot upward. "I am not. I think I’ve been pretty slick, actually."
"You carried my coffee, my papers, my bag, and my projector all on the same day."
"Those were all separate situations."
“All on the same day though.” You repeat.
"That's still not enough evidence." A stubborn look settles onto his face as he shakes his head in denial. “For a research to be substantial, you have to—”
You lean forward and press a quick kiss to his lips.
His argument dies instantly. His words are forgotten, and he doesn’t know what point he’s trying to prove anymore.
"...Okay."
Your smile turns fond. "Okay?"
"I don't remember what we were talking about."
A laugh escapes you. “Want another one?”
Ryland’s face brightens up at the suggestion, but before you can kiss him again, another teacher pokes their head into the room.
"Grace? We need help finishing the setup downstairs."
Ryland sighs dramatically, and then he whispers—not very quietly—"I'm... cashing my kiss in later."
You snort. "You make it sound like a coupon."
"It is a coupon. I worked hard to get it.”
Thirty minutes later, after he’d gotten the kiss you’d promised him, you and Ryland are leading your class downstairs toward the exhibition hall, and the whispers begin almost immediately.
You understand Ryland’s sudden hypothesis now, and when you turn to your boyfriend, he looks like he’s really trying to ignore them. Mostly because you know he wouldn’t know what he'd do if he acknowledged them.
And before you can offer him any form of support, the same teacher calls you for a favor. You quietly excuse yourself as Ryland stops the group just outside the entrance.
“Okay, rules.”
Collective groans erupt the hallway.
"First rule, no running. Second, no talking loudly. Third rule, no eating inside the exhibit area.”
A hand shoots up.
"What if I'm hungry?"
"You should've eaten lunch by now. It’s…3pm."
"What if I'm hungry now?"
“You can eat after the exhibition.”
The student mutters something about oppression. Ryland ignores that too.
"Alright. Fourth rule—"
His voice cuts off as his gaze trails off in the distance. Across the hall, you've just emerged from a storage room carrying a large box filled with 3D glasses for the exhibition.
The box isn't enormous. But it looks heavy.
Ryland watches you adjust your grip.
"Fourth rule..." He repeats absentmindedly, still watching the way you struggle with the box, still seeing the way you refuse to bother anyone else to ask for help.
The students watch him expectantly.
Finally, he closes his mouth. “Just, wait one moment.”
He turns around, walking away after telling them to stay in place. And the entire class watches as their teacher crosses the room and reaches you.
"You should've asked for help."
"I can carry it."
"I know you can."
Still, despite his response, the box is already in his hands.
You roll your eyes affectionately, and Ryland can only smile at you. That stupid lovesick smile.
"The kids are staring." You whisper, and his shoulder bumps yours. A small gesture, playful and instinctive. The kind of habit that’s between two people who have gotten used to being near each other.
"They are not."
The students are collectively staring, mouths agape as they slowly start to turn towards one another.
Several silent nods are exchanged.
A few fingers point.
Someone mouths “I told you” to someone.
Olivia can’t believe their hypothesis is correct.
Meanwhile, Ryland continues carrying the box as if he hasn't just abandoned an entire class.
Tomorrow, they decide, will be the day. Tomorrow they'll get answers. And they know exactly how to extract that information from their beloved Science teacher.
“Lava, lava, lava, lava.”
Fists are bumping their tables in a coordinated rhythm as Ryland takes out the small, round Earth plush from the corner of his classroom. And then it’s tossed in the air, and immediately it lands on Olivia’s hands.
“Which two organelles are found in plant cells but not in animal cells?”
“Uh, uh.” She juggles the knitted ball in her hands.
“It’s melting your hands, Olivia!”
She suddenly sits a little straighter, voice significantly louder as she says, “The rigid cell wall and chloroplasts for photosynthesis.”
“Oh! Give her a round of applause. That’s awesome.” He smiles, catching the ball in his hand as Olivia throws it back at him.
And as he does, he fails to see the knowing smirk on her face.
“Mr. Grace?” She clears her throat, and Ryland gives her his attention, thinking it’s a follow-up question of what he’d just asked.
"Are you and Ms. (Name) really together?"
Absolute silence greets the room, lingering in the air and expanding as all his students lean forward from their desks.
Their brilliant plan was commencing, and Ryland can only stare with dawning horror. And then he’s scratching the back of his head. “That’s… not a lava question.”
“You said you have to answer all the questions!”
“Well, then I pass.”
“You can’t pass!”
“I just did.”
“Lava, lava, lava, lava.” Everyone starts chanting again, and Ryland is already running a palm down his face exasperatedly. This cannot be happening to him. There is no way that this is currently happening in real time.
He drops his head back dramatically, stares at the ceiling for a moment the way all students do when confronted with a difficult question. And like he had told them several times, there really were no answers there, nothing of help.
“Why do you guys care so much?”
"Because you're our favorite teacher. And she's our favorite teacher too. And if you guys are together then it's like one of those crazy crossover episodes."
A girl near the front chimes in. “Soooo, are you guys together?”
They really have him cornered this time, and they know it. They had perfectly thought this plan through, because lava rules existed, and Ryland could never break one of his own rules. It’d set a bad example to the kids.
"Alright, fine."
The room becomes so quiet that you could almost hear swallowing.
Ryland sighs, thinking his life decisions through, thinks of a way out, and when no opportunity presents itself, he finally nods. Once.
"Yes."
The reaction is immediate, and the entire classroom detonates in comments, one over the other and some people have gotten out of their seats, one kid nearly topples over a desk, and Ryland can’t hear everything at once, but he can hear:
“I knew it!”
“Let’s goooooooo.”
“That’s what I said!”
“Dude, I told you.”
“Five dollars! Pay up!”
Oh, what would their parents say about betting on their teacher’s love life?
Ryland points at them. “Alright, calm down. Everyone back to your seats.”
And then his hand is up. “My hand is up.”
Kevin immediately sits, and the others slowly follow suit. But not without a few more whispers cleared out.
"We're happy for you!" Olivia suddenly says, and everyone is smiling and nodding their heads.
“Jesus Christ.” Ryland mutters under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Another hand rises.
It’s Rekha.
Absolutely not.
"No."
"You didn't even hear the question yet."
"I don't need to."
"But—"
"No."
"Have you kissed?"
The room erupts in screams, and Ryland is starting to get dizzy, and just when he thinks his whole life is about to crumble in front of him… the bell rings. And Ryland can see salvation. Beautiful, wonderful salvation, and he swears he has never loved a sound more in his life.
His students groan. For the first time in their lives, they groan at the sound of the bell.
“Class dismissed!”
"We were just getting somewhere." Rekha whines, but still, backpacks are gathered and chairs are scraped back to their spot, and his thirteen-year-olds start filing out of the room. And finally, the door closes and Ryland can finally breathe. He has been saved.
He really needs to modify the rules of the lava game.
A knock immediately sounds from the classroom door, breaking him out of his trance.
Ryland already knows who it is. And he needs you now more than ever, especially after the most stressful moment of his life.
You slip inside, balancing your bag and a stack of papers against your hip. “Hey.”
His arms are immediately peeling away everything you’re holding, and in record time, he has his arms wrapped around you. Ryland’s head is buried in your hair, glasses askew and all over the places, and his hands are linked around your waist.
“You okay there, Ry?”
“You have no idea what I just went through.”
A laugh slips out of you. “Aw. Were they bad today?”
“They contrived against me.”
Your expression immediately shifts into sympathy. “Oh, no. What happened?”
Your hands are running down his back, following a trail up his hair before settling back on his hunched over back. Rubbing evolves into light pats as you wait for him to tell you about his day, and you can feel the tension in his shoulders start to undo.
The late afternoon sun filters through the classroom windows. The building is quieter now that most of the students have gone home, distant voices and slamming lockers echoing faintly through the halls.
And then he finally pulls away, and you reach over and smooth down the collar of his shirt absentmindedly. And Ryland can only remember that damn piece of paper and the evidence against him.
He should’ve seen this coming.
“Can’t tell you yet. It’s a long story.”
"It's that bad, huh?"
"I got through it."
You grin. "Good. Because I was wondering if you'd want to grab dinner later. We could still go home and freshen up a bit, rest if you need. I’m sure Colt would like to know what the kids did to you today.”
The answer is immediate. "Yes. Let’s get dinner."
Everything else is ignored.
You laugh again, and Ryland thinks he would gladly survive ten more student interrogations if it meant ending his day like this.
A sudden blur appears outside the classroom door.
Neither of you notices. Then another. And another. And now a cluster of students who definitely should have already gone home crouches beneath the little window in the door.
Inside the classroom, you continue talking.
Outside, Olivia is standing on tiptoe.
"I can't see anything."
"Move over."
"You move over."
"Shhh!"
Inside, you turn your head curiously after hearing what seems to be whispers. "Did you hear something?"
Ryland freezes. A horrible realization slowly dawns on him. It’s never over. And as Ryland looks over at the door, it suddenly starts to empty as his students dive for cover.
A loud thunk follows and a few muffled "ow”s.
Ryland closes his eyes. "Let's get dinner."
"Okay? I thought we already established that.”
"Right now."
"Right now?"
"Immediately."
You laugh as he takes your hand and starts steering you toward the door.
The second it opens, six students scatter down the hallway like they weren’t just eavesdropping. And this time, they’re not slick at all. There’s tripping, and pushing over, and running as they try to escape.
And as Ryland buries his face in his hands, you stand there completely bewildered.
"...What was that about?"
Ryland looks at the ceiling. Wow! Still no answers up there.
"I have absolutely no idea, honey. I seriously have no idea."
And Ryland eventually tells you everything over dinner, and you can’t help but laugh.
The case of Mr. Grace's mysterious girlfriend had finally been solved, and unfortunately for him, his students were very proud of their work. And he just knows, deep in his heart, that this wasn’t the end of their little conundrum.
Everyone on Erid knows that you and Ryland Grace live together and are “mates”. However, an Eridian can’t help themselves, especially after discovering that unlike the permanent, lifelong mating system of eridians, humans change partners as they please.
Because of this, Maeve, an eridian scientist Ryland named after their mauve form, has been acting strange. They belong to the team maintaining your habitat dome, which means they’re around often. Lately, whenever you help Ryland set up his classroom, Maeve starts talking, you constantly hear melodic chords directed towards Ryland.
It’s absurd. Back on Earth, you never had to worry about someone stealing your boyfriend. Yet here, on an alien planet, you feel jealous of a five-legged, mauve rock alien. In your defense, it only bothers you because Ryland actually laughs and engages with Maeve, totally oblivious to what's actually happening.
The classroom is finally empty, Ryland wipes a little dust that’s settled on the laptop screen. “That went well today, didn’t it?” he asks, turning to you with a smile, “the pebbles are really starting to understand the solar wind”
You don't answer. You just pack away the spare stylus kits, snapping the plastic cases shut with a bit more force than necessary. Ryland’s brow furrows at the sharp clack. “Hey” he murmurs, walking over, “what’s wrong, baby?” Your voice is tight as you mutter “Nothing”
Before Ryland can press further, the heavy glass door open. Maeve enters into the space in the safety suit along with Rocky. Maeve ignores you entirely, their body tilting toward Ryland as they emit a series of melodic chords, “Grace and Maeve walk on shore together later. Question?”
Ryland breaks into a warm laugh, completely oblivious to the implication, "Sure, Maeve”. Beside them, Rocky’s claws click against the ground. “Maeve chords are highly inappropriate” Rocky chitters sharply. Maeve emits a sharp, defensive tune, “Human mating not permanent. Grace good quality human. Cords are fine to use on Grace”
You feel your jaw drop. “See?!” you say, throwing your hands up and looking at Ryland, “I told you so! Maeve is flirting with you!” Ryland stares at you, then at Maeve, and finally at Rocky. He grins as the realisation sets in, “Wait. Hold on, baby, are you jealous of Maeve?”
Right in that moment, Rocky, your favourite alien friend cuts in, “Maeve not being practical. Soft humans not right choice for Eridians” he ushers Maeve outside the dome like it’s pointless to even discuss further.
Ryland softly laughs, closing the distance between you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Well, that was interesting, right babe? I mean, it’s not everyday that a fascinating alien wants me” he says. “Whatever” you scoff, rolling your eyes. You are still flushed with the embarrassment of getting jealous over a rock. Your fingers push gently against his chest, but he doesn't budge. You look up at Ryland, a small smile finally breaking across your face as you ask, “So, are you still going on that walk?”
Ryland kisses your forehead, a chuckle vibrating against your skin. He pulls back just enough to look at you, a corner of his mouth quirks up, “Only if you come with me to keep the rock aliens away”. He bumps his forehead playfully against yours, “What do you say, mate?” You laugh, rolling your eyes at his ridiculousness before leaning into him, “Alright, mate”
what if ryland grace & roommatef!reader, who may or may not have crushes on each other, run into their exes while out together...
author's note: this is all just my imagination :) some of it maybe ooc ryland… but let’s all just have some fun! (pls.) very suggestive and just a little hint of spice at the very end. also sry this is long, but why make two posts when i can just give it to you all at once!
running into ryland’s ex ⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
you two are out picking up a few things for dinner, one saturday afternoon. ryland is trailing behind you, holding the basket, trying to glimpse at the grocery list over your shoulder as you scan the aisle.
“ah ha! chocolate chip cookie dough wasn’t on the list!” he says, matter of factly. you roll your eyes, turning to look at him.
“i don’t necessarily hear you complaining when i ask if you want a sweet treat after dinner,” you sass him back. you two bickered like a married couple. you both loved pushing each other’s buttons. to everyone around you, it was so obvious it was your sick and twisted way of flirting. even if you swore you were just friends.
ryland gives you a cheeky little smile, and you turn back to the shelf to realize there is one box of pasta left of the ones you were looking for, and it’s pushed further back than you can reach.
“hey science boy,” you jab at him, a smirk on your lips. ryland looks at you over his glasses, his signature disapproving look, and it makes you giggle. “make yourself useful and grab that box of shells for me, please.” you point to it and step to the side so he can do it.
“You lie to me, call me names and now you want my help?”
“you are such a baby, dr. grace. i’ll do it.” you walk over to the shelf, holding onto it, stepping on the bottom shelf to grab the box. if there is one thing ryland loves about you, it’s your innate stubbornness and attitude. but you’re so small compared to him that when you sass him, he thinks is comical. And when you’re mouthing him off, finger jabbing his chest, ryland knows there is nowhere he’d rather be. but watching you climb the grocery store shelf, to prove a point, might be a close second.
he has a huge smile on his face, as he watches you struggle. he sees your hand waving about, trying desperately to reach the box, and when you inevitably push it back more, he lets out a laugh at your dramatic whine.
“okay, i’m sorry. let me help.” he walks over, wrapping an arm around your waist, only to ensure you don’t fall and hurt yourself, of course, and reaches back further than you ever could to grab the box. you can feel the warmth of his body radiating off of him as he’s pressed into you, and the way his hand is sprawled against your stomach makes your heart pound faster.
the smell of your shampoo, combined with his proximity, is making him dizzy. he places you down, hand now resting gently on your hip, as he hands you the box, you’re both so close to each other, staring into each other's eyes like you’re the only two people in the universe. it’s short-lived until you both hear a voice behind him.
“ryland?”
you both whip your head in unison to see the person the voice belongs to. you’ve never seen her before, but she’s really pretty. she’s tall, just a couple of inches shorter than ryland, slender, and with long brunette hair cascading down her back. you turn to look at ryland whose tense, looking at her like he’s seen a ghost.
“linda. h-hi,” he stumbles back a little, and you take a step back so he doesn’t step on you. all the color has completely drained from his face. you don’t know if you should step in or stay out of it.
“it’s been so long. how are you?” her eyes are twinkling looking at him. your racking your brain trying to remember where you know that name from - and then it hits you. she’s his ex. ryland is nervously wiping his hands against his pants.
“good. i’m good. i’m her- we’re here just picking some stuff up for dinner.” he reaches for you, to put his arm around you, and you slot right into his side, like two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together. he holds you tightly close to him, and your arm comes around his back. you two have hugged here and there, but there’s something about the way he’s holding you right now that’s making your stomach flip.
you give her a small smile and wave to be polite. but from everything ryland has told you about her, you really just want to drop kick her in the middle of the store. you can see her enthusiasm to see him flicker away when she sees you next to him. he turns to what looks like to place a kiss on your head, but whispers “follow my lead, please,” really closely to your ear. his lips are dangerously close to your ear, and you nod your head once at the simple direction.
“sorry, i don’t mean to be rude. linda, this is my girlfriend,” he introduces you to her, and all the air in your lungs is sucked out. you take in a deep breath at his words. partner. you can feel your knees want to give out at the thought of it being true. but the feeling of his hand rubbing up and down your back grounds you back in the moment. where you have to pretend to be his girlfriend.
“girlfriend. wow. how long have you two been dating?” she asks, sounding almost like she’s holding onto hope that she still has a chance. but you lean your head onto him, and ryland’s fingers slyly sneak to your waist, one of them circling your skin just underneath your shirt.
your breath hitches slightly before responding, “what is it, two years now?” well, it’s not a complete lie. you’ve been living with him for two years, just not dating him. he turns to look at you, and your heart stops beating for a second. the look in his eyes almost makes you forget all of this is fake. he pulls you so your chest is pressed into his side; his voice is soft and sickly sweet as he responds to you. “best two years of my life, sweetheart.”
his other hand reaches to your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. his finger, tracing your jawline, stopping to hold your chin. you swear you can see his eyes flicker to your lips. but he reaches up to boop your nose instead, your face scrunching as you smile at him. you would’ve forgotten linda was there, had ryland not said something.
“how’s mark? last i heard, you two were getting married?” you can hear the sourness in his words, and her face falls immediately to the ground. “we’re not together anymore. we broke up at the end of last year.” if she were anyone else in the world, you might feel bad for her. but unfortunately, you’re way too petty to be sad for the woman who decided ryland grace was a waste of her time. “i’m sorry to hear that,” ryland says softly, and she nods. “it’s fine. im actually glad i ran into you. i’ve been thinking about us a lot, and i’d love to grab a coffee. maybe talk about how things ended.” she says, rocking back and forth on her heels. ugh, the nerve this girl has. asking her ex-boyfriend, you’re boyfriend roommate out in front of you!
ryland’s mouth falls open slightly, speechless from her words. he looks down at you, then to her. and the words flow easily out of him. “actually, no. i’m happy with how everything turned out.” but he’s looking down at you, smiling, and your knees go weak.
“but it was good to see you. i wish you the best,” he offers her a smile, and waves at her. ryland’s grip on you remains the same as you turn around to walk the opposite direction. you can’t help but turn around and offer her one last wave. “it was nice to meet you lisa!” you call out, purposely getting her name wrong. truly, it’s the very least you wanted to do to bruise her ego.
ryland snickers, squeezing your hip. his ear comes close to your ear again: “you’re a menace,” but it comes out breathy from his laughter. the feeling, makes you shiver. you walk down a couple of aisles, just to make sure you’re a safe distance from her. “sorry i didn’t mean to just spring that on you. i just seeing her caught me off guard. i'm sorry if i made you uncomfortable.” ryland is still way too close to you, and you’re having a hard time remembering how to breathe.
“hey, i’ll be your fake girlfriend anytime. you’d do it for me,” you smile, and yet again, there you two are, staring into each other's eyes. ryland isn’t even being discreet about looking down at your lips, and you aren’t either. you can feel yourself leaning in a little until it hits you.
“i forgot to get tomato paste.” your head falls onto his chest, the realization hitting you that linda probably still in the aisle you guys left her in. ryland laughs, cradling your head against him. “c’mon let’s pay for this, and we’ll just go to grocery outlet and get it there.”
“deal,” you say, speed-walking past the aisle you two left linda in, to the cash register.
running into your ex ⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
it was very rare for you and ryland to go out and drink. usually opting to stay in your cozy apartment, with a bottle of wine and whatever movie you two decided to watch. but with another school year coming to an end, and ryland yet again getting voted teacher of the year, you had to celebrate.
ever since you two ran into ryland’s ex, something has shifted between the two of you. a lot more lingering touches and stares. it’s like you got a taste of what life could be like if you both just confessed already, but no one wants to break first. so you’re just dancing between the line of friends and something more. You two sat at the bar, mirroring each other. both resting your head on your hand, a huge matching smile on both of your faces.
“i love all my students, but man, does it feel good to know i will never have to see jake ever again,” he takes a swig of his beer, and you laugh. jake, his student was a menace, to put it nicely, and made ryland’s year a living hell. but he sure kept you entertained with all the stories.
“you mean you won’t miss the kid who set his lab worksheet on fire so he didn’t have to complete it?” ryland loved the sound of your laugh. he would become a clown if that meant he’d hear it for the rest of his life. constantly telling you really bad puns or dad jokes, that you somehow still really enjoyed, and made sure to tell you anything slightly amusing that happened in his day. “oh gosh. don’t remind me.”
“mr. grace, i thought it was unfair for teachers to have favorites,” you tease, switching to play with the straw in your drink. ryland wishes he could hear you say his name like that over and over again. “hmm. it may be unfair, but we definitely have them,” ryland brings his arm down to rest on the bar, dangerously close to your hand.
“who would’ve known the school’s teacher of the year could be such a bad boy?” ryland hmms at your comment, trying to hold back any groan from the effect your words have on him. he’s be anything you wanted as long as he was yours. maybe it’s the alcohol in your system, giving you the extra confidence to drive him crazy. or maybe you're just tired of dancing around the truth and want nothing more than to feel the weight of his body on top of yours. ryland shifts in his seat, his pinky sliding against the back of your hand by accident. but the charged stare between you two only makes your mind wander off more.
but of course, your daydreams are cut short by a voice you didn’t expect to hear.
“this seat taken?”
you force your gaze over to the unwelcome guest, and your heart sinks. you’re ex, the reason you had to move in with ryland in the first place, motions to the empty seat next to you.
“yes. now get the hell away from me, andrew.” you try to shoo him away, but he just laughs, inviting himself to sit behind you. you instinctively get up, slotting yourself in between ryland’s legs and getting as close as possible to him. you mouth, sorry, to him, and she shakes his head. his hands naturally find your waist, and it feels possessive. as much as ryland wants to enjoy the permission to have his hands on you, he’s tense knowing your ex is here, essentially terrorizing you. his jaw tight, eyes darting between you and the idiot behind you.He looks into your eyes, gaze softening, and whispers, “you wanna go?” but before you can answer, your ex opens his big stupid mouth again.
“c’mon princess, don't be like that. i know you miss me.” he quips, and you can practically hear the smile on his face. ryland watches as you close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to not let his words get to you. he knows you well enough to know that if you’re angered enough, this will either end with you angrily crying and spewing hateful words or slapping him. and right now, he’s trying to avoid both. his thumb draws circles on the front of your hips as he tries to flag the bartender to close out your tab. you're trying to ignore him, really trying, but he knows the more he keeps egging you on, you’ll eventually cave and have to say something. He just has to find the right angle.
“this who you left me for, princess? i know he can’t treat you like i can.” you scoff at his words. ryland knows for a fact that without even dating you, he’s treated you better by a landslide. and if you gave him the chance, he’d worship the ground you walked on, because you deserved that. “please let me fucking kill him,” you whisper, and ryland laughs. “just ignore him, we’ll go home soon,” you can tell ryland is also on edge. his calm and steady voice is laced with something bitter and sharp. As the bartender approaches you two, ryland fishes for his wallet and gently guides you to sit on his thigh. His hand draped over your hip as he handed his card over to the bartender. you rest your head on his shoulder, fixing your eyes to stare away from your ex.
“c’mon baby, i know he can’t fuck you like i can,” your ex reaches out to try to touch your knee. and if this wasn’t your last straw, it sure as hell was ryland’s. he stands up, pushing you behind him, grabbing hold of andrew’s wrist. his grip is firm, and ryland is seeing red. regardless if he is your boyfriend or not, that is now how you talk about any woman. and he’s definitely not going to stand for anyone disrespecting you.
“you can make yourself look as pathetic as you want by trying to get her attention this way, but you’re not about to lay your hands on my girl, you hear me?” you mouth falls open at ryland’s words. you’ve never seen him act this way before. sure, he’s a middle school teacher who occasionally needs to get stern with his students. but the mix of aggression in his voice towards your ex, with a possessive hand on you, and the words “my girl,” lingering in your mind, made your knees weak. you shouldn't be turned on right now, but you can feel the heat pooling in your lower stomach as the thought of being his girl flashes in your mind.
andrew lifts his hands up in defeat and takes a step back when ryland lets his wrist go. the bartender hands ryland his card back. he puts it away, nodding at the bartender to thank him, and gently guides you with a hand on the small of your back out of the bar. ryland is still seething from that man thinking he has any right to look in your direction, let alone touch you.
you’re walking down the block, still in a daze from ryland defending your honor, when he pulls you into an empty alley. your back is up against a random building as ryland tries to control his breathing. you can see the worry in his eyes, probably scared he took things too far. his hands go to touch you, but he flinches back, as if he’s scared to touch you without your permission.
“are you okay?” he asks, voice still a little tough, chest rising and falling rapidly. You nod your head, and reach out to touch him. “i’m okay, ry.” you hand snaking up to rest on his chest. you can feel his heart pounding, and you feel bad for the stress you caused. he can see your eyes fill with worry, and he grabs hold of your hand on his chest. “this isn’t your fault, okay. that guy is an imbecile, and he shouldn’t have said those things to you.” he squeezes your hand, and you nod. you don’t trust your voice right now. sure, you guys have been more physically affectionate and gotten extremely cozy, playing the part of boyfriend and girlfriend way too often, but there is something different in this moment. It’s a little too real and too intimate.
“I’m sorry if i took it too far. he was just saying all those disgusting things to you, and something in me just took over. i just couldn’t stand there and do nothing, but if i made you uncomfortable, i understand.” he's rambling, not even looking you in the eyes anymore, almost a little shy. you smile at how soft he turns when it comes to you. he’s hovering over you, face so close to yours, and your mind flashes back to the bar and how close you were to giving in to your feelings for him. you'd give anything right now to truly experience being ryland grace’s girl.
your hand cups his cheek, forcing his gaze up to look at you. “don’t apologize. you did nothing wrong,” he nods, but you can tell he doesn’t believe you. so you try a different approach to reassure him, “plus, it was really hot.” ryland’s eyes go wide at your words, and the devilish grin on your face makes his whole face flush. “yeah?” his voice is quiet and so shy, the complete opposite of how it was in the bar. “mmhmm,” you squeeze your thighs together, feeling yourself get worked up at the thought of it, and ryland groans when he catches you. his hand find their place on your hips again, and he presses himself into you, against the wall.
“never seen you so angry before, mr. grace,” you lips ghost over his, and he lets out a little whine from the sound of his name leaving your lips. you can’t take it anymore; the feeling of him feels so good against you, and you need his lips on yours. you lean in, kissing him, and he freezes for a second, not registering that this is real. your hands snake into his hair at the nape of his neck, and he melts into you. it’s slow, and sensual, and you feel his tongue swipe at your bottom lip, begging you to enter.
you arch off the wall, his grip on your waist getting firmer, as you deepen the kiss. you pull the hair at the nape of his neck, and he whines when the kiss ends. he’s looking at you, eyes hooded and filled with need. “gonna make me your girl, ryland?” you look up at him through fluttering lashes, your voice laced with desperation. ryland moans, pressing his hardening cock against you, and you smirk. but before you can bring his lips onto him again, alarm bells go off in his head, and he pulls away.
the anxiety has returned to his eyes, and he begins to ramble, “wait, are you sure this is what you want. you’ve had an emotionally taxing night, and we were drinking, and i don’t want to do something you’re gonna regret later. we can take a pause and just go home and reassess in the morning if you want-” you cut him off with a hand slightly squeezing the bulge in his pants, and his hips buck into your grasp. “i want this. i've wanted this for so long,” you start peppering his jaw in kisses, continuing to rub him over his jeans. you feel his cock twitch, and you pull away, smirking. “now take me home, ryland. we have a lot of time to make up for." ryland is speechless, knowing you've wanted him as long as he has. he feels like an idiot for not acting sooner. he takes too long to respond, so you decide to tease him a little more. "but you know, only if you want." you shrug, trying to push past him.
“yes, ma’am,” he obliges, grabbing your hand and leading you on the walk back to your apartment. you giggle as he begins to pick up speed, you practically jogging behind him. it was going to be a long night.
✩ rarely ever gets sick but is the biggest baby when he does. he becomes sooo bratty and you have to try not to laugh at him so he doesn’t start whining.
✩ has a hard time falling asleep but once you two move in together, cannot fathom the idea of going to bed without you right next to (on top of) him.
✩ has perpetually sweaty hands, so interlocks your pinkies when walking together.
✩ an amazing gift giver but terrible at keeping them a surprise. will get you something and immediately have to give it to you because he’s too excited.
✩ you could be mid conversation, and you see his brows furrow, and he takes the glasses off your face, cleans them on his shirt, then places them back on your face while actively listening and engaging with you.
✩ has his go to pet names but loves to call you cringey things on purpose to get a reaction out of you.
✩ going off the last one, huge rage baiter!! especially, if you’re dating him. he loves to tease you, get all condescending, just to see you get a little bit sassy and annoyed. cause it kinda turns him on. but will begin to apologize profusely if he feels like he’s gone too far
✩ will book club books with you so he can spend time with you.
✩ will learn to braid your hair so he can run his fingers through it.
✩ will randomly start singing a song if you say a phrase that reminds him of one. and he has a song for everything.
it’s that time of night when i think to myself hmm wouldn’t it be nice to have a boyfriend? and wouldn’t it be even better if my boyfriend were ryland grace?
