i’m a trinket enthusiast that loves playing video games, all things goblincore, and yapping incessantly about the ryan gosling cinematic universe ✨🍄🧚♀️
i like to post my silly little thoughts here and sometimes i write a tiny bit as well — masterlist down below! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚
✦ i will write and reblog smut and other nsfw content —18+ only, mdni please!!! <3 ✦
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thank you for being here and reading all this! 💖💘 check out my tags to see what kinds of things i post! 🫶
✮⋆˙ fics, blurbs, one shots
✦ ryland grace
despite everything, it’s still you // ryland x gn!reader, emergency contact
something make my chest stir, something make my head blur // college!ryland x gn!reader, you are academic rivals and you slap him at a frat party (maybe after kissing him a little)
✦ holland march
this feeling follows me wherever i go // holland x fem!reader, you meet him during a case
part i. // part ii.
✦ lars lindstrom
in your eyes // lars x gn!reader, making matching bracelets
warnings : 18+ (mdni!). female!reader. perverted!reader thinking about bookstore boy ryland. lusting over a stranger. semi-public sex. size difference. hickies/marking. fingering. manhandling. spit play. oral - f!receiving. unprotected sex. soft dom or mean dom ryland? fondling. creampie. overstimulation. mutual attraction in the end?
[bunny's note] ᯓ➤ these are mostly imaginative perverted fantasies of ryland in reader's mind. i just love the juxtaposition of how sweet the beat of the song is while the lyrics basically imply something raunchy while still being lyrically sound. god i love being a perverted woman.
also dear bookstore boy ryland grace, please stick your bookmark in me. i beg on my knees.
wc : ~0.8k words
song : scott and zelda by shishishiena (originally by bibi)
general masterlist
it was never your intention to lust after the resident bookstore employee.
it simply wasn’t something one usually does with strangers, but anyone will give themselves a pass on this one since the bookstore boy was indeed a sight for sore eyes. with a face bestowed upon by the heavens and an aura of a warm, fuzzy blanket on a cold day, it would be impossible not to be charmed by him.
he was a friendly fellow, helping bookworms get through their monthly new book read that they’ll store on their bookshelves after swearing they’ll read it, like the rest of their unread books at home. the blond assisted you some time ago when your gazes locked. you were discreetly on the lookout for a copy of jane austen's emma.
he rang up your book with a warm smile, and he wrote something on the back of your receipt:
enjoy your book, nice taste btw! :)
- r
when he handed you your book, your fingers inadvertently touched, and he quickly apologized with a flustered grin. you believed it would be a fleeting memory, but following that encounter, something inside you urged you to begin visiting the bookstore weekly.
you take notes about the guy; his name was ryland grace. hearing it across the bookstore after one of his friends called him out again for his shitty sleeping patterns. the only thing they received from the blond was a sheepish grin and an excuse for needing to finish writing.
you sneak glances through the shelves you look through; you can't help yourself.
when he wasn’t helping customers on slow days, he’d be reading a book to keep himself busy. you weren’t focused on the books in front of you or whatever he was reading.
you wonder if those same hands would treat you the same way. his long fingers would ghost over the pages of the book he's been reading for half a day, pinching the paper's edges with a wet finger to turn to the next page.
good fucking heavens. he was hot without intending to be. was he even aware of how sexy he was being?
you can’t help but imagine him near you, trying to flirt with you or at least notice you the way you’ve been noticing him.
would he be gentle with you if you asked? towering over you, would he cage you between the bookshelves and kiss your lips softly? would he cup your face with those hands? would he place heated kisses on your neck to the exposed skin your button-down allowed until he took it off of you eventually? would you allow him to touch you this way?
would he open you up and flip you, scan his fingers over you with feather-like touches as you gasp? would he pinch your skin and mark you before making his way to your bottoms? would he push your panties to the side or would he take it for himself, selfishly keeping it? would he spit on your cunt directly, or would he make sure his fingers were wet with his spit before plunging them into you, softly cooing at your whimpers before picking up the pace?
would he be merciful, or would he be a tease? would he let you cum alone from his fingers or tongue?
would he close the store for the meantime, guide you behind the secluded part of the bookstore, and bend you over a strong bookshelf or an unused desk in the employee room? would his arms hold you flush against him as he thrust? would he whisper sweet nothings into your ear or would he degrade you for being so naughty at the prospect of wanting to be fucked in a bookstore by him? would you care enough for him to fondle your chest and nipples as you grow nearer to your orgasm? or would you be able to even think about that as his thrusts go harder and play with your clit?
would he allow you to cum first? or would he want you both to cum at the same time?
would he want to cum inside of you? would he let his seed drip out from your cunt to the carpeted floor of the bookstore? or as he pulls out his cock from you, would he plunge his fingers into you and finger you all over again, overstimulating you to another orgasm?
would he command you to look at him as he eats out both of your juices from your cunt?
"hey, you doing okay?"
you snap out of your daze when you see the bookstore boy, ryland, in front of you with a charming smile and his glasses lopsided once more.
˚☽˚.⋆You introduced your boyfriend, Ryland, as your husband to your colleague.
₊ ⊹[Just some fluff since I was busy!]
⁀✮₊⋆.˚⟡⁀✮₊⋆.˚⟡⁀✮₊⋆.˚⟡⁀✮₊⋆.˚⟡⁀✮₊⋆.˚⟡
The gallery was buzzing with a low, sophisticated hum. Soft lighting gave the abstract art on the walls an illuminating effect, and the air was filled with the clinking of glasses and murmured conversations. Ryland looked distinctly uncomfortable, his shoulders hunched slightly as he clutched a glass of champagne he had no intention of drinking. He only came because you asked, and for you, he would walk into a supernova. You squeezed his hand, a silent reassurance, and he offered you a small, grateful smile.
"There she is," you murmured, spotting your colleague, Elena, across the room. "Come on, I want you to meet her."
Ryland's grip on your hand tightened subtly, but he followed dutifully as you navigated through the crowd.
"Elena!" you called out with a warm smile.
Elena turned, her face lighting up in an instant. "Hey! I was hoping you'd make it. And this must be..." Her eyes drifted curiously to Ryland.
You beamed, a surge of pure, uncomplicated pride welling within your chest. You looked at Ryland, who was trying his best to look casual and failing miserably. The words came out so naturally, so easily, it was a wonder they had the power to completely undo him.
"Elena, this is my husband, Ryland."
The effect was instantaneous. It was like watching a computer crash in real time. Ryland's entire body went rigid. The polite, strained smile he had been wearing vanished, replaced by a flustered, surprised expression. His face turning a bright shade of red, you giggled as it reminded you of a tomato.
"H-hus...wha-? Husband.. Me?" he stammered, the words getting caught in his throat.
You offered him a soft, adoring smile, and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
"Yes Ryland, you're my husband," you teased softly.
Elena, bless her heart, just chuckled, completely charmed. "It's so lovely to meet you, Ryland. She talks about you all the time."
Ryland just stared at her, his mouth opening and closing silently, like a fish out of water. His brain was clearly malfunctioning.
"He's... he's just so happy to meet you too," you chimed in smoothly, saving him. "He's a man of few words."
"Few words is an understatement," Ryland suddenly blurted out, his voice an octave too high.
You had to physically bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing. He was so endearing it hurt.
"Well, it's lovely to meet you, Ryland," Elena said again, her smile genuine. "I'll let you two get back to it. Enjoy your evening!"
As she walked away, you turned to Ryland, who was still staring blankly ahead, his face a fiery shade of red.
"You okay there, space man?" you whispered, leaning in close.
He slowly turned his head to look at you, his eyes wide and filled with a mixture of horror and awe.
"You called me your huh-..husband.." he breathed, his voice still shaky.
"I did," you confirmed, your grin widening. "Because you're my soon-to-be husband."
He let out a long, shuddering breath, the tension finally leaving his shoulders. He looked down at your joined hands, then back up at your face, and a slow, shy smile spread across his lips. He felt relieved to know that you wanted to be his, not just his girlfriend, but his wife. His forever lover.
"Did you not like it?," you said softly.
He let out a soft, breathy laugh, the blush remaining vibrant and visible. "I loved it, sweetheart," he said, his voice finally steady.
He leaned in and pressed a soft, sweet kiss to your temple, a silent thank you. And in the middle of the crowded gallery, with your hand in his, he looked happier than you'd ever seen him.
summary: Ryland is incredibly anxious one night after you two had dropped Rocky off at his ship. When you get intimate with him, you suggest that he writes on your back so that he doesn’t keep staring at the whiteboard all day.
tags: smut, fluff, established relationship, one IUD mention, height difference, grinding, soft dom!Ryland, unprotected p in v sex, bent over the table, doggystyle position, creampie, cum marking on skin, siri play tessellate by alt-j, i am not a math person lol, general Ryland cheesiness <33
a/n: shoutout to this tweet for inspiring this whole fic. I ❤️ nerds who do nerd shit
main masterlist / cross-posted on ao3
this work contains smut. minors DNI
———
You and Ryland were traveling on the Hail Mary back to Earth after you had dropped Rocky back to his own ship. One night, you both were awakened by blaring sirens and red lights—the Taumoeba had evolved to eat through the xenonite. You and your crewmate turned soulmate had to make the most difficult decision of your lives: either go home and leave the heroic alien who saved both of your lives to his own fate, or save him and possibly never go back to your own home planet again.
You two spent the next few days contemplating the pros and cons of either choice. In between work sessions, you fucked him on almost every single surface of the ship, excluding the freezing room where the Beetles were stored. “It’s an effective and healthy way to relieve stress,” you reasoned with him. Before you left Earth, you and the late Ilyukhina were required to get a special IUD that still worked after your induced coma, both to regulate periods and to prevent any unwanted pregnancies. At least that meant you wouldn’t run out of condoms.
When the ship went to night cycle mode again, you stepped into the lab to see Ryland still working to the bone.
“Ry, baby, you’ve been working here for like six hours straight. How about we take a break, hmm?” You went to where he was sitting and rubbed his upper back.
He placed a hand in front of his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“Yeah, sorry. I just… still don’t know what to do.”
“It’s okay. We shouldn’t take this decision lightly.” You slightly frowned and your hand moved to caress the prickly hairs on his jaw.
“You wanna take a break?” you teased him.
“Hmm, I can never say no to that.” He gave you a small smile.
He stood up from his chair, towering over you, and cornered you to the edge of the lab table. You reached up to wrap your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss. You felt his open mouth against your own, his hot breath blowing on your lips. You cheekily pressed the tip of your tongue against his, tasting the remnants of his sour skittles—as sugary sweet as him.
As he kissed you, Ryland grinded his hardening cock against your covered cunt. He was wearing his navy blue sweatpants with the white strings untied, and you were wearing your thin sleep shorts; it always drove him crazy the way you walked around the ship with your plush thighs on display. He pulled away from you, grabbed your hips to turn you around and pressed his hand onto the middle of your back to bend you over the lab table. You let out a small yelp and grinned at his decision to take control this time; it was like a coin flip between you two.
He removed your sleep shirt to reveal the naked skin of your back. You never liked to wear a bra on the ship, much like when you stayed at your house on Earth. Your breasts were pressed onto the surface and your nipples hardened at the sensation of the cold steel. The scientist trailed his fingers down your spine. It still felt so unreal to him how he was blessed to have an absolutely beautiful and perfect—at least in his eyes—human being like you as his life partner throughout this entire outer space odyssey.
Ryland pulled down your shorts and panties with one swipe, letting them drop to your ankles. He took out his cock from his boxers and sweatpants and rubbed his length up and down your soaking wet cunt, his tip poking your aching clit.
“Ry, please, I need you so much,” you begged him.
“Hmm… only ‘cause you asked me so nicely, sweetheart,” he crooned against the shell of your ear and placed a kiss onto your shoulder blade.
You felt every inch of your boyfriend enter your walls, finally calming the burning flame in your lower core. You loudly wailed into the sterile air of the spaceship. Your unfortunate Eridian friend wasn’t here to echolocate you from across the ship this time.
Ryland’s eyes subconsciously turned to the blank whiteboard next to you. His mind started to anxiously remember how he still hadn’t calculated how long it would take for the ship to travel back to Rocky if you were to turn back now. He turned his head back, blinked hard, and gave you shallow thrusts, loosely holding onto your hips.
You could sense the uncertainty in his movements. “Ryland, are you okay? Do you want to stop?” you asked worryingly as you turned your neck as far as you could to address him.
He had previously promised you that no secrets would be kept in between you two for as long as you were both on the ship. “No, no. It’s just that I—I need to calculate how many days it’ll take for us to get to Rocky,” he blurted out with a shaky voice.
You sympathetically frowned when you heard his confession, but an incredibly hot idea came to you when you spotted a spare dry erase marker on the table.
“Babe, why don’t you write on me instead with that marker over there? We can just wash it off afterwards.”
“Oh—um, okay, I’ll try my best.” He let out a nervous chuckle. He was always amazed at how creative and quick-witted you were. Ryland was willing to do anything for you.
While giving your pussy deep, steady thrusts, he grabbed the marker with his right hand and uncapped it, the chemical smell filling your nostrils.
“Heh, okay. I guess I’ll start with a diagram first,” he spoke to himself.
Ryland grabbed onto the softness of your ass with his left hand while he wrote on your back with his right, all while fucking into you. He managed to draw a large, crude triangle onto your shoulder blade—three points where three lines met. You felt him write a capital “U” followed by a capital “S”.
“Are you writing ‘us’?”
“Y-yeah, I‘m calculating the distance in between us and Rocky,” he replied with heavy breaths. It was incredibly difficult for him to focus when your warm, dripping cunt was gripping him so tightly.
You were oddly touched by this small detail. In every theory that he drafted, he always considered you as the most important constant. There was no scenario of him without you.
Your boyfriend started to thrust faster as he continued scribbling on your skin, and you rested your cheek onto the cold steel table with both hands on either side of your head. You were moaning uncontrollably at this new, delicious pace. You moved one hand down to rub your throbbing clit in tandem with his thrusts. When Ryland felt you clench around him, the six that he was about to write turned into an open zero.
“Ahh, fudge, I don’t know if I can concentrate like this.” He made a noise that sounded like a mix between a chuckle and a moan.
“Do it for me, baby. Don’t stop until you cum,” you encouraged him.
A switch inside his brain flipped when he heard your sweet voice say those words. He gave you an even deeper thrust, the force sending a shockwave throughout your whole body. He began to feverishly write his calculations all over the expanse of your back. You weren’t even paying attention to any of the methods he was explaining out loud; all you could process was a flurry of numbers, variables, and the sensation of him matching each thrust to every symbol he wrote on you.
You continued to quickly dig circles into your demanding clit with the pad of your finger.
“Ry, Ry, I’m—I’m cumming,” you babbled with a final rub. You let out a dragged-out whimper and soaked his cock with your cum, earning a low growl from the man above you.
“Hnngh—I’m almost done, sweetheart, just—just let me make a few—few more calculations.” His pace inside you became as erratic as his scribbles.
“…and that would equal 56.187 days—oh Christmas Eve!” Ryland let out a loud moan and he spilled his cum deep inside you.
You brightly grinned at the fact that he finally solved his problem and conveniently got his orgasm at the same time.
Ryland stayed inside you for a few more moments, your collective breaths filling the silent cabin air. He pulled out of you with a whimper, and he quickly moved his hand to catch the cum that dripped out of you.
He had one more twisted idea in his mind. He smeared his cum all over his own equations on your skin, the white liquid diluting the black ink into a milky grey.
“What are you doing, Ryland?” You turned your neck to face him with furrowed brows and a giant smile on your face.
“I’m just making a masterpiece of our shared love.” You rolled your eyes at his cheesy line.
“Then how are you gonna copy all the work that you did?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve already remembered everything inside my head.”
inspired by this post (with permission!) by the incredibly talented @superhoeva - you should go and follow Simone IMMEDIATELY as she has INCREDIBLY amazing fics and a brilliant mind which comes up with delicious ideas >:3 I do not claim credit for this idea, I just was possessed to write something because of it!
postgraduate student!Ryland Grace x afab!reader (they/them used). 18+. oral (reader receiving); p in v. FWB but you’re both down bad. cliffhanger ending. 2k words.
“Hey, are you still up for watching Alien tonight?” Ryland asks, his head peeking hopefully over the back of the sofa. You can tell he’s trying to keep the hopefulness out of his voice and play it cool, but it’s not working… just like the way you fail to hide your flinch at the reminder.
“Haha, okay, that didn’t look good,” he says, “what’s up?”
“I’m really sorry, Ry, I’ve got a date tonight.”
You are sorry. You enjoy film Fridays - as he’s dubbed them - because the two of you barely get to hang out nowadays seeing as you’re both neck-deep in postgrad work. But Fridays are also prime date nights and sometimes these two things clash.
Like tonight. Your friend Allison has set you up with a guy from her debate team. He’s cute (though you’ve barely said five words to him so you’re not sure what she’s thinking), and you need to blow off some steam after a solid week of studying, so you’d settled on an answer of ‘eh, why not?’
Ryland’s face falls at the news but he quickly tries to regain composure, shrugging like you haven’t just ruined his day.
“That’s okay.”
It’s not. You feel really bad. You like Ryland. He’s a good housemate and a good friend. Spending an evening with him is never time wasted.
“Rain check? I’ll buy popcorn to make it up to you,” you say, and he softens again.
“Okay, I’ll let you off… so long as it’s the good brand.”
“Yeah, I know, god forbid popcorn gourmet Ryland Grace is caught eating a bag of sweet-and-salted which costs less than two dollars.”
He grins at your easy teasing of him, but that smile shifts into something more vulpine as he sits up in order to swing himself over the back of the couch and close the gap between you both. His body is warm and solid and you find your breath getting caught in your throat due to his proximity.
Ryland is really hot. There’s no two ways about it. You have no idea how he’s able to get to the gym as much as he does but you’re not complaining, especially when his rough, broad hands slide up your sides.
“Want some help warming up? I could make you come before you head off.”
You pretend to think the question over, wriggling a little in his grasp as if attempting to break his hold. He doesn’t let you. You don’t try very hard, anyway.
“Mm, I was gonna shower. I’ve only got half an hour before he’s here…”
“I won’t need that long,” he hums, hand sliding round to cup your cunt over your jeans, “c’mon, let me give you a reason to need to wash up, huh?”
Fuck. When his lips meet yours you melt into him, because if there’s one thing Ryland Grace is incredible at - other than molecular biology, of course - it’s making you come so hard that your cunt feels it for hours after.
The first time he’d suggested it, you thought it was a joke… but one look in his eyes let you know how serious he was. He’d eaten you out on the couch and sent you on your date with his spit still coating your upper thighs. Since then it’s sort of become… a habit, a ritual. And, of course, strictly casual.
Yeah. That’s fine.
You try not to think too much about how you feel about Ryland. Because he’s your roommate. And your friend. And surely he can’t be interested in anything more with you, not when he could have his pick of anyone on campus, really.
Surely he doesn’t want you. Not like you want him.
Ryland moves you until you’re up against the back of the sofa and drops to his knees with far more force than must be comfortable. It’s only a matter of seconds until he’s working at the button of your jeans, kissing your mound over the denim as if he is rabid to have a taste of you. Shaky, excited hands drag your pants down along with your undies, allowing you just enough grace to kick them off of one foot - the leg of which he then hooks over his shoulder before he dives right in.
He eats you out like a man starved and you’re fucking ambrosia. His tongue circles your clit, soft and gentle little movements as if his eagerness was all an act… then he dives in so hard that he’s able to stick his tongue inside you. You gasp and grab his hair (something that, over these sessions together, you’ve learned that he likes a lot) and drag him further into your folds, earning you a muffled moan from his preoccupied mouth.
“Fuck,” he chokes against your cunt as your hips begin to meet his tongue beat-for-beat. He buries his face in further and you can feel the ridge of his nose bump against your clit. Fuck, it’s a shame he took his glasses off… they get so steamy and sex-fogged when he leaves them on, it’s goddamn devastating to look at…
You come all over his face within a couple of minutes, because he’s a fucking master at this. He doesn’t stop, eating you through it with broad strokes of his tongue, desperate to get every drop of you onto his palate… and then he keeps going.
“Ry—!”
“C’mon, gimme another. Wanna make your legs weak.”
The sentence is only half-heard from between your thighs but you get the idea when he slides a couple of fingers inside you, too, after rolling up the sleeve of his cardigan to the elbow. You gasp and almost topple backwards over the sofa but he has you pinned safely in his grasp, his other hand grabbing onto your hip so hard you’re sure he’ll leave marks where his fingertips dig in.
He makes a beckoning motion inside of you - because he knows just where to hit by this point - and you soak all the way down his arm to where his woollen sleeve sits.
Ryland grins lazily up at you as he rests his chin on your heaving stomach. He checks his watch.
“Seven minutes out of thirty. Plenty of time for a shower.”
He follows you into the bathroom. You have no issues showering in front of him because, well, you’ve both seen each other naked before, so it’s not weird, right? If it is, you just try to blatantly ignore the intimacy that it suggests between the two of you, being nude like this. Not sexually nude but… casually.
Like real lovers are.
“So where do you know him from?” he asks. Fuck, his chin is still covered in you, shiny in that little beard he’s trying to cultivate. It’s both mind-bogglingly erotic and also pretty cute.
The shower squeaks as it turns on and steam begins to cloud the room. Ryland stays next to the glass screen, probably to hear you better over the water flow. You soap up using the nice stuff he always makes sure to buy you when he sees it’s on offer.
“I don’t, not really. Allison set us up together. She’s been trying to do that a lot, recently, but I don’t know, she must have terrible taste in men because all the dates she sends me on recently kinda suck.”
There’s a beat before Ryland answers.
“Yeah, that’s… weird.”
Hang on, doesn’t he know Allison? Don’t they do that chess thing together…? Ah, there’s no time to mull it over, you’ve gotta get moving. The knob squeaks as you turn it and you step out, grabbing the towel Ryland offers you and drying yourself off.
“Shall I wear red or black?”
“Black. Red suits you, but the black makes your eyes pop.”
You didn’t know you had eyes which could pop, that’s sweet. He trails after you as you plod to your bedroom and grab the outfit he suggested. With your back to him, you don’t notice the way his eyes linger on every inch of you.
“Will you be out late?”
“Who knows. If this guy is anything like the last ones, definitely not.”
“I’ll keep Alien out then.”
“Ha! Sure. I’ll swing by the store for popcorn on the way back if we end things early.”
There’s a knock at the door as you put your finishing touches on. Without thinking, you press a kiss to Ryland’s cheek as you scoot past him in your doorway. You can still smell your orgasm on him.
“See ya later. Don’t wait up.”
“I won’t,” he lies.
As you leave and say hi to the guy at your door, you try not to dwell on how you wish it was Ryland taking you out instead.
Ryland waits up.
It’s only eleven pm when he hears your keys in the door, and he pretends to be grossly engaged in whatever show is on the TV which he hastily switches on. Oh no, it’s To Catch A Predator, he can’t seem to interested in that or it’ll look weird—
You don’t notice the TV, though. You just walk inside and throw your bag on the ground in defeat.
“Oh, hi. You’re back early. Are you okay?” Ryland asks, trying to affect nonchalance. You groan.
“He talked about nothing but the goddamn debate team for the whole night. Do you know he thinks abortion should be made illegal, by the way? Because now I fucking do!”
You throw your hands in the air in exasperation.
“Hey, come here.”
He scooches over to make room on the sofa for you, which you drop into as if you were made to be in the space by his side.
“I should stop trusting Allison with this stuff. I just wanna meet someone nice,” you sigh. Ryland wraps his arm around you and you let yourself slide over until you’re plonked against his chest. He rubs soothing little patterns on your arm with his thumb.
He hits play on Alien.
It goes for about ten minutes before you speak again. He hasn’t registered any of the plot, anyway, too hooked on the feeling of you against him.
“I got the popcorn,” you say quietly, and he’s glad that, from where you lie, you can’t see the smile which erupts over his face.
“Forget the popcorn. Lemme cool you down for the evening.”
He tugs you into his lap so easily, kissing you soft and slow and gentle, the way you deserve to be kissed. The way he wants to kiss you every day if you’d let him. Because fuck, it’s fine being your roommate, but he needs to be so much more. Needs it more than he needs air, more than he needs a heart to pump his blood - because you are his heart at this point, aren’t you?
He slides your underwear off and pulls out his cock from his sweats. You stroke it a couple of times before lining it up and sinking it down, breath rough in your throat as your warmth engulfs every inch of him. Ryland buries his face in the nape of your neck as you start riding him right there on the couch, moaning and gasping at how full he makes you.
If he squeezes his eyes shut tight enough then he can pretend this is more. He can imagine this is any day for the two of you, just a normal couple having sex, committed and public with your relationship. He can imagine he’s trying to get you pregnant, trying to start a family with you… fuck, he can imagine it’s your goddamn wedding night, and he’s spent the whole evening celebrating your love on the dance floor, and now he gets the pleasure of having you all to himself for the rest of your lives, and he knows he’ll take care of you…
You drag yourself away just far enough to lock him into another slow, tongue-heavy kiss. Ryland goes willingly. He’d let you do whatever you want. He’s a fucking spaniel at your heel, really. He’d be your dog, or your toy, or whatever means he can stay close to you.
There’s no way you feel the same though.
Right?
His Nokia buzzes. A text from Allison.
i can’t keep doing this, ry. i’m running out of shitty guys to set them up with. you gotta come clean to them about how you feel at some point.
He doesn’t see what it says. He’s too busy narrowing his world down to you in his lap.
But, when you hear his phone vibrate, your instinct is to look over… and you do see it.
tags: @kenstimetoshine @nerd-do-well @kiffycreative @bookerdefay @pixiebuggz @regalfirebird @go-bonkers-go-foolish @inthegalaxxy @sexyleftist @julepod @cosmicyeehaw @s4turnsb3st @qardasngan @valentine-blue @wereallbrokenangels @h4rumichan @irlr0gue @writingpromptsworld@pygmandelions (lmk if you wanna be added or removed!)
well i was planning on being productive and doing laundry and WRITING TODAY but i got hit with the most intense fucking bout of food poisoning (?) of my life in the middle of the night and i feel like a shriveled up cigarette butt rn
This is... egregiously self-indulgent and entirely uncalled for. Enjoy.
kade auberon x gn! reader, nsfw
“Oohhhhh….”
The sound punches out of him as your lips slide over his length. Kade shifts his legs, breathing raggedly. The tension between you finally came to a head in a very literal sense when you backed him against the hanger wall and dropped to your knees in front of him. His pants were undone just enough to get him right where you wanted him. You put a hand on his thigh and suck lightly, and his head thunks against the wall. You pull off. “Feel good?” you ask as you mouth at the underside of his cock.
Kade pants in response. You feel him tremble from where you’re touching his leg and you soothe your hand up and down the fabric. You take him back into your mouth and start working him in earnest. He groans, his hips jumping minutely, and it's enough to make you gag. “Shit, sorry,” he huffs shakily. You wrap a hand around his base and bob your head to let him know all is well. You look up at him to find his eyes tightly shut and his tongue poking minutely out from between his lips. Cute. You swirl your tongue, wanting to see his expression change. Kade’s mouth falls open and his head tilts back again, baring the shivering column of his throat.
You take his gloved hand and guide it to your face, and he rests his fingers on your cheek with a gentleness that’s surprising but not unwelcome. You hum your happiness, making Kade gasp.
“Sweetheart?” he manages. He strokes your cheek in a gesture that feels almost absent. You release him. “I can… take it from here,” Kade says, his eyes unfocused. He looks dazed.
“Do you want me to stop?” you ask simply.
His jaw works. “... no.”
You suck on his tip gently, then gulp him down and Kade grunts. You find a steady pace and within a minute he’s coming down your throat with a growl he couldn’t quite bite back. You stand, savoring the remains of his bitter release on your tongue. Kade licks his lips as he rights his wardrobe, having yet to meet your eyes, and his bashfulness makes you smile.
“That was fun,” you offer. Kade clears his throat and finally looks at you. He seems almost angry, until he surges forward and kisses you and you understand it isn’t anger that has him grabbing you at you like this. You meet him with equal hunger and the kiss turns messy fast. Kade wrenches away so he can look at you, searching your face with an intensity that makes you shiver.
“My turn?” he asks lowly. He squeezes your waist.
“Show me what you got, starfighter,” you challenge, before reclaiming his mouth. Kade picks you up without interrupting the kiss and carries you to the bedroom.
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