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(Y/N) had felt nauseous all day. They decided to ignore the feeling and continued to work. This was a decision they came to regret later in the day when working for one very observant Viggo Grimborn.
Warning(s): Vomiting (warning for all my emetophobia peoples).
Word Count: 1,690
[Second Person Perspective]
You had awoken with a stupid tummy ache. That was all it was. You thought to yourself, 'you probably didn't get enough sleep,' although many would consider six hours to be a decent rest. After all, sleep deprivation can cause a little bit of nausea and you really had had a very long previous day. Yesterday, you had been awake since the sun rose to help Viggo with a lot of little jobs in the business. He had many things to check, people to meet, dragons to sell, hides to sell, and much, much more. You were more than glad to offer your aid in whatever manner you could, even if it meant going around and checking that each captured dragon was fed and locked up securely. Simply taking over that job gave Viggo one less thing to think about. It helped that Viggo trusted you.
He knew you could get a job done and have it done well, unlike his brother who sometimes (not always) preferred quantity over quality. Ryker often saw no harm in starving the dragons too much, or injuring them if they swipe or snap at him. Viggo would prefer this didn't occur as the dragons were worth more with a good amount of meat on their bones and no blemishes or injuries that could lower their price. You focused back to the present moment and readied yourself for another long day. The sun was beginning to rise over the horizon and you'd only begun to brush and braid your hair (as all vikings some strands of long hair). You'd consider this a slow start to your usual morning routine. Usually you would already be dressed and ready for breakfast by sunrise.
However, that morning you couldn't even think about food, let alone eat breakfast. Perhaps you should've seen that as a warning to rest more for the day, or simply not work and offer your sincerest apologies to your boss. But you were more stubborn than that. You were a viking! You weren't about to let a stupid tummy ache stop you from getting some work done. Viggo carried a lot on his shoulders, working to keep the dragon hunting business alive despite the dragon riders' best efforts to destroy, or bankrupt, the business. The riders' were determined, but so was Viggo. So now, not only did he have a business to run and workers to keep in check, but he had both offensive and defensive strategies to plan against the riders'. Traps that would put a stopper in their futile attempts, or tough scenarios that would hopefully break the riders' loyalty to each other and send them all home.
You refused to let Viggo handle all the work on his own when you were fully capable of lending a helping hand. It simply wasn't in you to let someone else handle everything while you rested. Injured, sick, or half-asleep, you still got your work done. 'Today won't be any different.' You thought as you fixed up your hair and dressed in some warm tunics, a fur coat and fur boots. It was only Autumn, but it was a cold Autumn in this part of the archipelago. You felt a bit better than when you first woke up, so you forced yourself to drink a little bit of water. The cold liquid made you feel even more nauseous, but you ignored the feeling. After all, cold water on an empty stomach makes everyone feel a little nauseous. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror.
You looked like shit.
Your face looked drained of colour, your eyes had dark circles beneath them like you suffered heavily from insomnia and despite your best efforts, tiny hairs stuck out from where you'd braided, giving you a messy and disheveled appearance. You didn't look well, but you hoped Viggo and the other dragon hunters would be too busy to take much notice. So long as you got your work done, no one should care. Right?
You exited your tent and looked across the field towards the mess tent where breakfast was being served. You were definitely skipping that. You turned and went in the opposite direction, hoping a walk and some fresh air would make you feel a bit better. Once the sun had risen enough to shower the forest in sunlight, you decided it was time for work. You didn't feel much better, so you had a little more water and went to Viggo for a list of things to do. When you greeted him, he took notice of your appearance, but said nothing. He simply gave you a list of dragons to feed, check, secure and as usual he asked you to take note and report if any new blemishes or injuries appear on the dragons.
You nodded and saw yourself out of the tent to begin your work immediately. The sooner work was done, the sooner you could rest some more. Despite not eating, you were feeling more and more nauseous and unfocused. You wondered for a moment if the feeling worsened because you hadn't eaten. You pushed on with your work, taking frequent, but small, sips of water. Once a dragon was fed, you looked them over and double checked the security of their cage before moving onto the next dragon. This took you only one hour. Once completed, you returned to Viggo for the next task. He glanced over his shoulder once you emerged back in the tent and nodded you towards a checklist he had written on his desk.
When you looked it over briefly, he did a double take at your appearance. Unbeknownst to you, more colour had drained from your face, giving you a rather obvious sickly appearance. "Are you feeling well, my dear?" He questioned you with a casual tone. You turned back to face him, caught off-guard by his question. He was more observant of your health than you gave him credit for. You nodded a bit too quickly.
"I'm feeling okay. Though, I am a little tired." You admitted.
"Perhaps you should turn in early today...after your work?" He watched you carefully. His tone was that of a question, but his expression and gaze made it clear that there was no room for arguing or disagreeing. Instead of stubbornly disagreeing, you nodded your head.
"Some more rest sounds great. But, uh, I'll finish this checklist first." You held it up and waited for his approval. He nodded in agreement.
"Very well, my dear. Take care of it then." He waved you out of the tent and you sprinted off. You felt embarrassed by how easily he seemed to read you. The checklist took longer than you thought it would and the other dragon hunters seemed to be delaying in doing their own work which put you behind in your imaginary schedule. You were now halfway through your checklist and feeling so nauseous you couldn't take even a small sip of water. While the dragon hunters moved some dragon crates around to create some room for the new captures, you sat down under a shady tree and attempted to ease your unsettled stomach by resting. This did not help. But it was worth a try.
The dragon hunters were taking an awfully long time and they kept stopping to take breaks from the sun and heat and to tell each other some jokes. You weren't as tough on them as Viggo or Ryker, and while you could tell them to pick up the pace (this was something you usually did) today you were simply too sick and tired to care. Them slacking off gave you an excuse to rest. You weren't sure when you fell asleep, resting under the cool, shady tree, but the next thing you knew you were sitting up fast and turning to the side to vomit. The burning stomach acid singed your throat and lips as it left your body. Your stomach continued to reject its' contents until it was completely empty. You grimaced and noticed it was probably the previous night's meal and all that water you had.
You heard a sigh and then felt as a hand was placed on your shoulder. A second hand was placed on your back and began to rub comforting circles along your shoulder blades. "I had feared this would happen." Viggo's voice spoke up from your side. He helped you stand up and move away from the tree.
"Ugh, I feel awful." You cringed at the taste in your mouth.
"I'm sure you do, my dear. Let's get you washed up and back in bed. You should rest and let this illness pass." He led you to your tent, making sure you weren't going to faint along the way. "No water or food for the next several hours, alright, my dear?"
"That sucks...I've already gone without breakfast..." You complained, but you weren't really going to argue with him. Honestly, rest sounded great. You felt like you were about to doze off and face-plant into the ground at any moment. Once you were back at the tent, he watched as you washed up and then collapsed onto the bed. He moved closer to your bed and pulled your furs over your body. Using the back of his hand he made sure you didn't have a fever as well as your stomach ailment. He then sat on the side of the bed and gently rubbed circular motions on your back.
Once he was certain you were asleep and not about to go back to work, he exited the tent and noticed a small group of dragon hunters who had saw the ordeal and snooped about, certainly looking for something to gossip about. "No one is to disturb them, is that clear?" He demanded. The group were startled he had noticed them. They nodded their heads and took off into different directions — like rats scattering away — and he took that as his confirmation. He wandered back to where you had last been and found your checklist. Once he found where you were up to, he continued to finish the tasks listed before returning to his previous work. He felt glad he'd decided to check-in on you.
boredom (ryland grace x gn!reader)
summary: (y/n) is bored and ryland is stressed. why not solve both problems at the same time?
wc: 3.6k
cw: oral sex (m receiving), slight dacryphillia, some praise kink, overstimulation, orgasm denial (where my freaks at, this one is dirty) !!! MINORS DNI !!!
a/n: ngl this one kicked my ass 🥀 there are some BOOK-SPECIFIC spoilers in this fic so tread with caution all who haven't read phm but plan to! also, thank you for over 1k likes on doctor's visit?? and all of your comments and reblogs i love you people with my entire being
You were bored.
Not the normal kind of bored, where you just had nothing to do.
You had things to pass the time. Laptops with truly anything you could ever want at your fingertips (you’d become a Minesweeper master), a couple of books you’d packed for yourself for the mission, spend time with your fellow crewmate and a literal alien. No, you had plenty of stuff to keep your brain occupied.
This was the kind of boredom that drove you crazy. You itched to do something, anything, to blow off the anxious steam that still simmered in your soul from Ryland and Rocky's near death experience after collecting the Astrophage sample from Adrian. Both had come out alive, thank God, a little worse for wear but breathing which was really all that mattered at the end of the day.
But the anxiety and stress and fear of them dying still lingered, flowing through you and giving you an anxious need to keep them close. So you couldn’t focus on the small, mundane things you usually did when you were travelling through the Tau Ceti system. You needed something bigger. More distracting.
Rocky had been sleeping a lot as of late while he healed, recovering from essentially being on fire. So, as Ryland did his scientist thing and focused on breeding nitrogen resistant Taumoeba, you spent much of your time sitting on the floor by Rocky who’d curl up and sleep opposite of you, pressed against the clear xenonite wall. Rocky seemed to be just as shaken from the accident and wanted to stay close just as much as you wanted to keep him close.
Several days ago, the Eridian had been so kind as to gift you one of the little gadgets he used to create xenonite objects. He’d been attempting to teach you how it worked to some varying degrees of success. You were busying yourself with the machine tonight, fingers hooked into the little doohickies that were connected to strings of xenonite- trying and failing to thread together a singular cube. You still didn’t quite understand how it worked. Rocky made it look so easy.
Ryland was sitting halfway across the room on a stool, typing notes one-handedly into a laptop to log today’s progress with the Taumoeba. The arm that had been barbecued during Rocky’s rescue rested delicately in his lap. He wasn’t on as much pain medication now, but the arm was still tender so he tried not to use it when he didn’t need to. The lighting was soft against his skin, the Hail Mary officially in its ‘night mode’ to help replicate Earth’s 24 hour cycle for yours and Ryland’s sanity.
You should be focused on the xenonite contraption sitting in front of you so you could teach others about it when you return to Earth.
But instead you were focused on him.
In the soft light, wearing his yellow jumpsuit which was partially unzipped to show the plain white t-shirt underneath, he looked almost ethereal. His blonde hair was especially unruly after a long day of running his fingers through it. Golden framed glasses sat abandoned on the table next to him, so he was hunched a little closer to the screen than normal so he could actually see what he was typing. The Taumoeba breeding was a long, grueling process. At least the little freaks worked quickly, or you would be in space for months trying to create a viable predator for Venus and Threeworld. But despite the short turnover time, it was still taking a lot out of Ryland, who was taking the brunt of the work.
He was tired and stressed knowing that the fate of humanity and Erid rested almost entirely on his shoulders alone.
You couldn’t help him with the Taumoeba, that was his department, and Rocky couldn’t really help from his side of the ship, but you’d been wondering if you could help in other ways. Something to relieve his stress and release your pent up energy.
Before Rocky joined you on the Hail Mary, when you’d been wandering aimlessly in space towards Tau Ceti to see what was unique about this star compared to every other star in the known universe, you’d become close to the scientist. Emotionally and physically. You were the only two on the ship after all, what were you supposed to do?
And after 4 years of being in a coma?
Both of you got handsy.
Mostly initiated by you, but Ryland responded with eagerness once he pushed past that initial nervousness. He’d explained that it had been much longer than 4 years since he was last intimate, as his last girlfriend had been years before that.
You’d learned that he was maybe just the teensy tiniest bit touch-starved. All the more fun for you.
However, once Rocky came aboard, any intimacy stopped cold-turkey. With an alien who could hear and ‘see’ everything in the ship, there was no plausible way to try anything without him knowing something was going on between the two of you. It would create a lot of questions neither of you were eager to answer. Even while he slept, it felt too risky.
Usually.
“I’m bored,” you state, absentmindedly toying with the machine in front of you but staring dead-on at the blonde’s back.
His jumpsuit shifted as he looked over his shoulder, squinting in your general direction.
“Alien super-tech not doing it for you?” He questioned, turning back around to keep typing. His voice was gravely, not due to exhaustion (not entirely, at least) but due to the ammonia fumes that did a number on his throat when he’d saved Rocky’s life. It still hadn’t quite returned to normal.
“No, not while Rocky’s not awake to answer my questions about it.”
“Haven’t you asked him like a billion questions about it already? You should probably understand it by now, don’t you think?” He joked. You could hear the stupid smile in his voice.
Smartass.
If there was one thing you learned about Ryland after spending months together on this tiny ship, it was that he was a brat when he was tired. He became loose-lipped, speaking his mind more than he normally would.
And you loved it.
“You come try working with these little strings and see how well you do,” you prod, unhooking your fingers and scooting the tool away from you.
“You’re the engineer, I think that’s your job. I’ll stick with little alien microbes.”
Ryland stayed vigilant on his keyboard, paying you no mind as you rose from the floor, picking up the blanket that you’d been sitting on and tucking it under your arm. “You’ve been working a little too hard on those alien microbes lately.”
“Kinda have no choice here- have to save the world and whatnot.”
You prowled closer. “Yeah, but you have to sleep sometime. Take some time to relax.”
He huffed when you sidled up next to him. “And how do you suggest I do…”
You twirled him around on his stool to face you, forcing his attention away from the laptop. The surprise in his eyes was evident- he hadn’t heard you approach or even knew that you’d moved from your spot on the floor. Now, you were inches away, standing between his spread legs and dropping your blanket to the floor.
Every drop of exhaustion-induced confidence he had evaporated. “....that,” he finished, eyes dancing between yours. The hand he had in his lap, the one still wrapped in bandages, balled into a tight fist and he swallowed after giving you a quick once-over.
When you brought a hand to his collarbone, feeling the beat of his heart and trailing your hand down the tight t-shirt his jumpsuit exposed, he glanced over your shoulder in fear and moved to stop your hand. “Rocky-”
“Is asleep. And should be for at least another couple hours.” He grabbed hold of your wrist with his good hand but didn’t put any pressure behind it.
“What if he wakes up?”
“Have you ever seen him sleep for less than an hour?”
He didn’t take his eyes off of your lips. “No…”
“Then we’ll be fine. I want to help you relax. You’ve been too wired recently and you need a break.”
He audibly swallowed, spreading his legs even wider to let you closer. Loosening his grip on your wrist, he let your fingers slip to the zipper of his jumpsuit. As you took hold of the metal and began tugging it down, he let out a breathy hum.
“What did you have in mind?”
His eyebrows shot into his hairline when you dropped to your knees, cushioning them on the blanket you’d set on the floor. Ryland sat up straighter than he had all night, looking at you in awe as you tugged the black zipper as far down as it would go. Once again, he stilled your hands with both of his this time, palms swallowing your hands whole.
“Wait- are you sure?” The strangled noise he made when you peered up at him through your lashes was one you wouldn’t forget.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Ryland refused to let you move another inch. “Because… you get nothing from this.”
Always looking out for you. “That’s not even the tiniest bit true, Ry.”
“But-”
“I promise, I’ll enjoy this just as much as you will.”
The silence that followed was heavy- heated. You would stop if he told you to, without question.
Unless his reasoning was that you would get no pleasure from it. Which again, couldn’t be farther from the truth.
When he finally pried his hands from yours, they were shaking- the wrap on his hand scratching against your skin. Then, he didn’t seem to know where to put his hands, opting to let them limply fall to his sides and brush against the seat of the stool. The loose boxers that you’d exposed after unzipping his jumpsuit were already tented.
“Nervous?”
“A little.” You were surprised he’d actually admitted it.
“Any particular reason why?”
He didn’t let his eyes wander from where they watched your fingers play with the elastic around his hips. “This is… uncharted territory.”
That brought you pause. “Your ex never gave you head?”
Even in the dim lighting, Ryland’s cheeks flamed at just the words. He’d been a little shy about regular sex before, but this seemed to take it to a whole new level. “No. She thought it was gross.”
Ryland never really talked bad about his ex, save for the fact that she’d dumped him, but every little fact he let slip just brought her lower and lower on your favorite people list. From your time with Ryland, you were quickly coming to realize that their sex life must’ve been very… vanilla.
No wonder the blonde was so skittish and so touch-starved. She’d never truly let him experience the pleasure he deserved.
The grin you gave him couldn’t have been more feline. “I get to be your first, then?”
He shook his head in disbelief. “Can you at least try to hide your excitement? It’s embarrassing.”
Breaking eye-contact with a laugh, you slid his boxers down painstakingly slow, revealing what hid underneath inch by inch. The sharp lines of his hips all leading down to his cock which sprang free once you’d tucked his underwear low enough. Just as pretty as the rest of him. You didn’t think you could ever tire from the sight.
It didn’t take much coaxing to have him fully erect, cock pulsing against your palm as you very gently settled your hand at the base of his shaft to keep him in place. Holding his thigh with your free hand, you delicately pressed a light kiss to the head. Barely a touch of your lips, but the reaction was immediate- his leg jumped against your hand and he moved to grip the stool. The man yelped.
You raised your brows up at him. He attempted a scowl.
Normally, you would’ve made a teasing comment but… you’d let it pass this one time. You wanted him to enjoy this, not feel ashamed.
Holding his eyes captive with your own, you watched with pleasure as his face contorted into one of pure agony when you slowly kissed down the side, along a prominent vein that ran there, pausing at the bottom to suck gently at the skin around the base. He had a healthy dusting of pubic hair, slightly darker than the hair on his head but just as soft. You’d felt it before with your hand but feeling it brush against your mouth was heavenly.
Ryland looked like he was already about to cum.
He was white knuckling the stool, head bowed to his chest and face scrunched in concentration. His cock throbbed against your face- an angry red color, eager for even a fraction of your attention. You drew your lips back. He whimpered.
“You can’t finish yet, Ry. We just started.”
“I know.” His response was rushed, uneven and rough. At this point, you couldn’t tell if the roughness was due to his still healing throat or if he really was that affected by your mouth.
“Can you hold off until I tell you you can come?”
Even in the cool air of the ship, his forehead was starting to shimmer with perspiration. He leant back against the table with a ragged huff. “I can try,” he whispered.
“Good. You can do it,” you purred, squeezing his thigh and gently fisting the yellow fabric there so you had something to hold onto when you brought your mouth back to his tip. Taking your time, you let your tongue lave over the skin, savoring the salty taste and boiling heat of him. His leg jumped again.
“G-God,” he whined.
If he was already reacting like this…
The groan he let slip when you twirled your tongue around his head was pornographic- the moan he finally didn’t bother to hold back when you sucked the first inch of him into your mouth had electricity shooting up your spine.
He felt almost painfully hard the further down you went, giving an inch, then pulling away, continuing the pattern until he was nearly brushing the back of your throat. When he did touch the back of your throat, his hands instantly found purchase in your hair.
You stopped to look up at him and you couldn’t tell if he wanted to pull you off of his cock or bury himself deeper. It seemed he was just as conflicted. And you could’ve sworn there was a glint of silver lining his eyes. You wanted to ask him if he was ok but… your mouth was a little full.
Squeezing his thigh once, you asked the silent question. The two of you stared at each other for a second, breathing together. Then he swallowed and you felt the tiniest bit of tension on your head as he shyly pushed further into your mouth.
That was answer enough for you.
When you really began working his cock, Ryland almost lost his control again. His hips stuttered in the stool and his hands tightened in your hair. But you pulled off of him before he could reach that high.
There were certainly tears in his eyes now.
“Please-“ he choked, trying to steer you back. His face was red.
You held firm. “Careful. Remember what I said?”
The hair that fell over his forehead bobbed as he nodded. “Yes, I’m sorry.” It sounded painful for him to talk, like his throat was tight and packed with cotton.
“You’re doing so good, Ry.”
Verbal validation was something you knew Ryland craved, whether he consciously knew it or not. Any breakthrough he had with the Taumoeba, when he pulled off a half-decent maneuver with the ship, when he’d please you before Rocky had moved in- Ryland’s eyes would light up when you praised him.
He didn’t light up this time, given the circumstances, but he did straighten up a little. When his chest rose and fell in a deep, steadying breath, you knew your words worked their magic.
“I want you to guide me. Then you can come. Can you do that?” You asked, feeling as his grip on your hair slackened and turned gentle. Fingers soothed over the strands he’d gripped. A single nod was all you got in return, Ryland not able to do much else.
Cradling your head in his palms, the scientist you’d come to love guided your lips and you welcomed him back into your mouth with eagerness. A sob-sounding gasp graced the room.
Fully surrendering control to Ryland, you let him set the pace. He started off attempting to be conservative, a gentle guiding of your head back and forth over his velvety cock. But it didn’t last, not when you ran your tongue along the underside of the shaft.
Throwing his head back, he whimpered again and his resolve finally snapped. Relaxing your throat to accept him, you took the rough battering in stride. Heat, moans and saliva- the strong muscle of his thighs under your hands, the fingers cradling your skull- everything you could feel and hear and sense, all orbiting around him.
When he came, he came fast and hard.
Every part of him tightened underneath you, hands keeping you locked firmly against his pelvis to swallow everything he had. And you gladly did so with minimal choking.
When he started to soften against your tongue but made no move to pull you off of him, you gave a couple taps to his thigh. Coming out of some sort of blissful trance, Ryland quickly helped guide you off of him. A string of drool followed your retreat. Your jaw ached and your throat felt raw but you couldn’t have been happier.
The pair of you sat in a slow, comfortable silence as both of you tried to regulate your breathing, staring at each other to see what the other would do next.
Ryland let go of your head in favor of wiping at his eyes, sniffing quietly and looking all sorts of embarrassed. An uncomfortable laugh burst from him and he shrugged.
“Don’t really know why I’m crying,” he sighed, reaching back to grab his glasses and slide them over the bridge of his nose so he could blink properly down at you.
“Overwhelmed?”
“Something like that,” he cringed, busying his hands with fixing his modesty and partially zipping his jumpsuit back up. “Never felt anything like that before, so… thank you. For showing me. No one’s ever even tried so it means a lot.”
Your heart broke. Someone so genuine deserved a partner who cared just as much for his pleasure than their own. If you ever had the opportunity to cross paths with his ex’s when you returned to Earth, they were due for a verbal lashing.
You sat back on your heels to give yourself room to stand, to give him room to breathe, but Ryland leant forward to chase your mouth before you could. Lips locked, kneeling between his legs, you cupped his stubbled jaw and let him show you his gratitude with his tongue. His shy smile when you broke for air had your heart stuttering. His eyes were gleaming.
Taking his hands, careful not to squeeze his injured one too hard, you stood and brought him with you.
“Now, you need to sleep,” you chided, tugging him towards the dormitory where he could rest in the peace and quiet while you watched Rocky and fiddled with the xenonite machine.
The blonde halted in his steps, bringing you to a stop. “I should-“
“No! No arguing. You’ve been up for almost 48 hours, you’re of no use to us exhausted. You’ll kill all of the Taumoeba at this rate!”
Ryland rolled his eyes which enunciated the dark rings under his eyes and shrugged in defeat.
“Fine. But I'm sleeping in here.”
“But-“
“A compromise! I'm compromising here. Take it or leave it. Please?”
The soft glow of Tau Ceti glinted off his golden rims. You couldn’t have asked for a more handsome man to be stuck in space with.
“Alright…”
-
“Grace ok, question?”
You startled at Rocky’s sudden voice, nearly dropping the book that you’d read about 50 times now onto the head of the sleeping scientist that rested in your lap.
Ryland had been asleep for almost 3 hours with no end in sight, your right leg was long past dead and now Rocky was awake to disturb the peace.
Your hand stilled where it was buried in Ryland’s hair to look back at Rocky who was indeed awake and standing close.
“Yeah, he’s ok Rock, just sleeping.”
“Why on you, question?”
“Uh…” you stalled, not really sure how to answer in a way that didn’t sound weird or lead to more questions. “It’s just something humans do sometimes when we’re really tired.”
“Oh, understand.” He usually didn’t fight you or Ryland if something you did was a ‘human thing’ and you and Ryland didn’t question Rocky when he said something was an ‘Eridian thing’. It was an unspoken rule.
Crisis averted.
The ship resumed its quiet hum as you read the worn and torn copy of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy to an alien while running your knuckles absentmindedly over Ryland’s cheekbone, who slept peacefully for the first time in weeks.
a/n: ryland grace whimpering audio when? all sorts of firsts for ryland recently (and more to come). thank you for reading! preparing to write this fic had me zooming in on every picture of ryland in that stupid hot yellow jumpsuit to see how far down the zipper went and if it would indeed zip low enough LOL research says yes?
