Ally

"no amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence" 19

[elementalwriter67]

Let it Snow

Pairings: Batfam x reader, Jason Todd x reader

Word count: 4239

Summary: It’s the famous Wayne Christmas gala and so far it’s as boring as you would expect it to be, until (Y/N) comes up with a plan to liven things up that results in a little more than she expected.

“(Y/N) do we really have to go to this thing?” Jason groaned as (Y/N) stood in front of him straightening his tie for the second time and she giggled glancing up at him. 

Keep reading

[starfire1657]

Batfamily One-Shot: Jason's Helmet hair (Jason Todd x Reader)

(Y/N) - Your Name

(F/A/S) - Favorite Anime Show 

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It was just another typical day at Wayne Manor. Alfred was somewhere in the enormous house cleaning or something. Bruce was currently at Wayne Enterprises in an important meeting. Dick was on a date with Kori and Damian was God knows where. Hopefully, not starting plans for world domination. And lastly, you, Jason and Tim were sitting in one of the Manor's many living rooms. 

To say that you were bored was an understatement. You were dying from the lack of excitement. The day has just been uneventful and that was a rarity, especially if it involved the Waynes. 

You were currently sitting on the couch watching (F/A/S). Well, more like rewatching, since there was supposed to be a new season soon and you wanted to refresh your memory. But even you were getting tired of that. You sighed and turned your head to look at Tim and Jason. 

Your boyfriend of 2 years was bent over slightly on the chair next to the couch you were laying on. Jason was wearing a light grey tank with red as the trim with brown pants to match. In his lap rested his Red Hood helmet, which he was currently cleaning. 

Then your eyes landed on Tim. Timbo or drug addict as you like to call him on a playful day, was sitting on the floor in front of the couch typing away on his laptop. Probably, working on a case for the big bad bats himself. Tim also had a cup of steaming hot coffee in his hands. Lifting it up he took a big but slow gulp of the still steaming beverage. 

'How in the world can he just drink that without burning his togue?' You thought, 'I guess that's what happens when you're an addict.' 

You soon turn back to your computer screen continuing to binge watch your show. Not long after though you turned away from your screen again and look back towards Jason. Who was now polishing his helmet his black hair with the single white streak, hung around his handsome face.  

While gazing (more like staring) at Jason's position, an idea popped into your head. 

Pressing pause, you set the computer to the side and stood up from the couch. You walk over to Jason and stand behind the chair. 

Noticing your movements Jason glances up from his helmet turning his head to look at you. 

"Hey babe!" he said, "What's up? Are you already done with your (F/A/S) marathon?" 

You softly smile at him, "No, not yet. I was getting bored once I hit the third season." 

He nodded, "Oh ok." 

He then turned back towards his helmet and continued cleaning it. You still stood behind him eyes darting towards the helmet and his floppy hair. 

Lifting up your hands you held up Jason's hair and let go. Confused Jason turned back towards you. "What are you doing (Y/N)?" Jason's question had now caught the attention of the dru- I mean Tim. 

Tim eyes then turned to the two of you, curiosity shining in his blue orbs. 

You however, shrugged and did the same thing to Jason's hair again. "Well, I'm trying to figure out how your hair stands up."  

Jason's eyebrows scrunched up in confusion you swore you could have seen the anime question mark above his head.  

'I need to stop watching so much anime', you mentally sighed. 

"I don't understand", he said still confused. "It's just I don't know how you get your hair to stand up like it does", you say while pulling his hair up again only for it to fall back down after you let it go. 

"See and you don't use any special conditioner of any kind or mine cause I would know." 

Tim being silent this whole time decided to say something, "Hey Jason why don't you put on your helmet?" 

Jason looked at Tim eyebrow cocked, "Why?" 

"Just do it", he said. 

Jason then sighed and put on the helmet while you walked back around the chair to look at him. 

Once the helmet was on Jason looked at you both like he was expecting something. 

"Ok now what?" He had asked. 

"Now take it off?" Said Tim. 

Jason then took off the helmet and when he did his hair was standing straight up. Tim smiled and looked at you. 

"See", he said while you made an 'oh' sound in understanding. 

"Okay so now I fully understand the secrets to my boyfriend's fabulous hair." You had said amusement lacing your voice. 

Tim chuckled, "Yeah Jason has helmet hair like 97% of the time he's around." He then took another sip of his coffee, "Which is also the reason why Jason's head looks like twisted up skunk." 

"Hey, stop making fun of my hair Timberly!" Jason yelled.  

You giggled and sat in Jason's lap wrapping your arms around his shoulders, "Don't listen to Tim babe. Besides I really like your helmet hair it makes you look sexy."  

Jason smiled, "Thanks babe." 

"You are so welcome", you then give Jason a kiss on the lips. 

You both then pull away from each other. Jason looked into your eyes and said, "Where would I be without you?" 

"Probably still dead", Tim said standing at the door. 

Jason gritted his teeth and picked you up placing you on the chair. He then turned his gaze towards his adopted brother, "I hope your ready. . ." He said while cracking his knuckles. "TO DIE REPLACEMENT!!!!"   

"Oh S#!T!" Tim yelled and soon the chase was on, and the once quiet manor was filled with screams and glass shattering somewhere. 

You quietly laughed at the two boys and then sighed once more. 

"Man. . . . Even after all of that I'm still bored." 

**************************************************************************

PS. I only own the plot thanks for reading!

[spoookyraccoon]

Note: my period is kicking my ass rn. Please leave kindness in the comments. I hope you enjoy and if you do please show love ❤️ kisses 💋

You woke up around 2.

The sun has now been up for three hours.

Jason rolled over and mumbled something into your shoulder before kissing the soft skin. His eyes struggle to open but once they do he seems taken back to see you already up. "Morning precious"

He takes a better look at you and winced. You're wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, a heating pad was attached to your belly with the cat on top of it and you were cuddling your favorite stuffed animal he had gotten you. The picture before him alone gave him all the information he needed but with some quick math he was able to conclude it was the second day of your period.

Jason's face softened immediately.

"Oh, baby."

His voice came out rough with sleep as he pushed himself up onto one elbow. His hand slipped beneath the blankets, finding your hip and rubbing slow circles there.

You gave him a weak smile.

"Morning."

"Mm." He frowned. "How bad?"

You considered lying. You really did.

Jason always worried about you when you weren't feeling well, and you hated being a burden.

"It's okay."

The look he gave you said he wasn't buying that for a second.

"Sweetheart."

Your shoulders sank.

"Maybe an eight."

"An eight?" he repeated, horrified.

You shrugged.

"The cramps woke me up at two."

Jason immediately sat up.

"Twol?"

You nodded.

"You've been awake for seven hours?"

"I couldn't sleep."

His expression somehow managed to become even more offended on your behalf.

"Absolutely not."

Before you could ask what that meant, he was already climbing out of bed.

"Jay?"

"Stay there."

You watched him stumble toward the bedroom door, hair sticking up in every direction.

"Where are you going?"

"Emergency boyfriend duties."

A second later he disappeared into the hallway.

You heard cabinet doors opening.

Then the sink. Then the microwave.

Then what sounded suspiciously like Jason arguing with the cat after the animal had followed him.

Five minutes later he returned carrying a tray.

Your heart squeezed.

Water.

Pain medication.

Your favorite snack.

And a mug.

"Jason."

He carefully set everything beside you.

"I made tea."

"You don't drink tea."

"I know."

You stared suspiciously into the mug.

"Did you Google how to make tea?"

He looked offended.

"I watched a video thank you. "

That made you laugh despite yourself.

His face immediately brightened.

Jason climbed back into bed and pulled the blankets open enough to slip underneath them. Once settled, he gathered you into his chest without a word.

You melted instantly.

One arm wrapped around your waist while the other reached down to rest over your lower stomach.

His hand was warm.

You sighed.

"Better?"

"A little.

"Good."

He pressed a kiss against your temple.

Then you mumbled-- "I was going to clean today."

Jason snorted.

"No."

"The laundry--"

"No."

"--the dishes"

"Absolutely not."

You tilted your head back to look at him.

"They need done."

"They can wait."

"Jay."

His hand squeezed your side.

"Sweetheart, you're in bed cuddling a stuffed animal. a heating pad, a cat, and enough blankets to survive a Canadian winter."

"It isn't that bad."

"The stuffed animal and the cat has emotional support duties."

You laughed harder this time.

Jason looked ridiculously pleased with himself. Then his expression softened.

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"You don't have to earn resting."

Your smile faded. Jason knew you too well.He knew how guilty you felt whenever you slowed down. How you convinced yourself you should be doing more. Taking care of everyone else before yourself. His thumb stroked your stomach through the blankets.

"You're allowed to have bad days."

The tenderness in his voice made your chest ache.

You swallowed. "I know."

"Do you?"

You hesitated.

Jason's answering look said enough.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Stay here."

"With you?"

"Obviously."

His arms tightened around you.

"The world's not getting you today."

You buried your face in his chest.

"You're dramatic."

"Says the woman currently being guarded by a vigilante, a cat, and a stuffed rabbit."

"It's actually a bear."

"My mistake."

You felt his laughter rumble through his chest.

The cat jumped back onto the bed and settled directly on top of you, as if agreeing with Jason's statement.

"There." Jason nodded approvingly. "Maximum protection."

Your eyes started to grow heavy for the first time all day. The warmth from the heating pad, the steady weight of the cat, and Jason's arms around you finally began easing some of the tension from your body.

Jason noticed immediately. "Getting sleepy?"

"A little."

"Good."

You felt him kiss your hair. When your eyes slipped closed, you heard him murmur softly against your head. "I got you, precious."

The last thing you felt before drifting back to sleep was Jason pulling the blankets a little higher around your shoulders and holding you just a little closer.

[project-hail-ryland]

Masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ🛸༄˖°.

red = smut 18+!!

18+ nsfw - smutty thoughts (fem!reader x ryland, p in v, etc.) under the cut!

end of august - ryland grace x reader (angsty/ non smut)

Ryland slipping his panties in your pocket...

Sleepy Sunday: ryland grace x gn!reader fluff

untitled smut: oral (m!receiving), ryland grace x fem!reader, bondage

fluffy ryland x nail biter reader

thinking about touch starved!ryland on the mission and the way he melts every time you touch him (fluff)

space age love song - ryland grace x fem! crew mate!reader

whine wednesday smut - p in v, ry hittin' it from da back

simple things like your overcoat & your beauty - fluffy roomies

incinerate: ryland grace x reader, reader asks to have sex with him as her dying wish (fem! engineer! reader) part 1, part 2

posting this so you all can reference it/ so i can have it on my nav page!

[project-hail-ryland]

space age love song - ryland grace x fem! crew mate!reader

i am lowkey trashing incinerate, so take this as a one shot that was originally meant to be apart of that series but has since been scrapped and mildly re-edited 🫡

18+ - smut, p in v, oral sex f!receiving, soft dom kinda ry, interrupted sex beware (sorry HAHA)

—————————————————————————

it’s been few weeks since you woke up from your coma to ryland standing over you with relief written all over his face.

he didn’t remember you, but you remembered him. you remembered what stratt did to him, you remembered the way he cried to you from his holding cell the day before they sedated him, and you remembered holding his face in your hands as he tried to be brave and accept his fate.

by now, rocky has moved onto the ship and ryland has remembered almost everything. just not stratt sending him to his death against his will.

you haven’t told him that, and you’re not sure you will. you also haven’t told rocky that at the end of this, you and ryland will have to die in space regardless of the results of the mission.

it’s really early. ryland is still asleep on the bunk next to yours, mouth agape and snoring softly. he looks so soft when he sleeps.

his glasses rest on the floor by his bed, right next to his converse.

you slowly rise from your bunk and pull on your shoes, panic sitting deep in your chest.

you had another bad dream. even though you braced yourself for this one way mission, you’ve recently started panicking when you remember that you’re destined to die sometime soon.

when you volunteered to be the engineer on the hail mary, you weren’t in a great spot. like ryland, you really had nobody left on earth that you were tied to. sure, you had friends, but it wasn’t like you had a spouse, or kids, or any close relatives.

you felt deeply that you needed to get involved in project hail mary, and when stratt called to let you know that you’d been chosen, you didn’t feel an ounce of regret or fear.

but now, now that you’re on this ship and orbiting tau ceti, you’ve been secretly panicking.

you quietly leave the dormitory, headed for the window. on the way, you pass rocky’s sleeping body.

you silently hope he doesn’t wake up for at least a few minutes so you can have a breakdown without worrying anyone.

you get to the window and take a seat on the ground, legs criss-cross applesauce and arms wrapped tightly around yourself in a hug.

even though you’re sharing a spaceship with two other creatures, you’ve still never felt more alone or touch starved.

you take a shaky inhale and drop your chin down to your chest as you start to panic.

your hands move to cover your eyes, tears threatening to spill.

you can’t stand feeling so weak and scared. you’re a fucking aerospace engineer. this is your job, your last job. and you know you’re meant for it, but it’s too much right now.

it’s too much to see the hope in ryland’s eyes when he works on the experiments.

to know that he’s here against his will and thinks he chose this for himself is killing you.

it’s too much to know that even if you somehow scrounged up enough astrophage to get back home, you would both starve to death before you made it back.

you take a deep breath, hands wiping away your tears as you focus on quieting your mind. the tears have started to trickle down onto your white tank top, leaving little see through blotches in their wake.

then here comes ryland.

you feel him before you see him as he comes up behind you and kneels down, placing a hand gently on your shoulder.

“y/n?”

his voice is raspy with sleep, his hand warm on your bare shoulder.

you sniffle, quickly wiping your face again with your hands before turning to face him.

“hey, what’s going on?” he asks, voice laden with concern.

“im fine, i promise,” you lie, trying to muster up a smile.

your face is wet and blotchy, a stray tear is still rolling down your nose.

he reaches out for you and pulls you into a hug.

you rest your head on his shoulder, your body shaking with anxiety and fear and guilt and sadness.

he pulls you tighter, adjusting so that his legs are open wide and wrapped around you and you sit on your knees facing him.

one of his hands comes to press at the back of your head, pulling your face into his neck. the other trails down to your lower back where he rubs circles with his thumb.

you stay like this for a long time.

you were apparently not the only touch starved person aboard the hail mary.

you finally pull back and look up at his face only to realize that he’s crying too.

“did you know that i didn’t even volunteer for this?”

you nod.

“they made me come,” he states, tone undecipherable.

“im sorry i didn’t tell you. i didn’t know whether or not you’d ever remember,” you apologize.

“don’t apologize,” he starts, “i think i needed to remember that part on my own.”

you nod your head, agreeing.

“i didn’t realize how badly i needed a hug,” he laughs, lightening the mood.

“me neither,” you reply.

he reaches out to put a hand on your cheek now and you gasp out a breath.

“i remember the night before they put me in the coma now. i remember how you held my face.”

your eyes go wide, unsure where he is going with this.

“thank you for being so gentle with me,” he finishes.

“of course, ryland.”

he strokes your cheek with his thumb now.

“you know, i always had a crush on you on the carrier,” he admits.

your mouth goes dry and you swear your heart is going to bust through your chest.

“and i know i shouldn’t tell you this now while you’re trapped on a spaceship with me 12 light years from earth, but i just needed you to know,” he continues.

he keeps rambling, “that night you came to see me in my holding cell, that was when i realized that maybe i could do this. i could do this with you. and then of course, they drugged me anyways and i forgot about all of that, but you were the reason. you were always the reason i could be strong, even if i didn’t consciously know it for a few weeks after the coma.”

his hand is still cupping your cheek, you lean into his touch and nod.

“i hate what they did to you. i was so against it that stratt threatened to replace me,” you mutter, tears spilling again.

“but i wanted to go with you. i didn’t know how much you would remember, but i knew that i wanted to be here with you regardless, so i had to cooperate,” you finish.

he leans in and presses his forehead to yours.

he smells like sleep and something so ryland, it makes your head spin.

you look down at his lips, heads still pressed together, noses touching. his glasses are hanging from his t-shirt collar.

“ryland,” you whisper.

“hm?” he mutters.

“would you please kiss me?”

you feel him nod his head twice before pulling back to look you in the eyes. you both lean in, closing the gap between your mouths slowly.

you hum into the kiss as his lips meet yours. they’re soft, gentle at first.

your hand comes up to the back of his neck, fingers twirling the hairs at his nape.

he groans, kissing you harder now. his hand moves to the back of your head to pull you into him.

this cannot be happening.

but at the same time, thank god it is.

he pulls you into his lap, your legs straddling it. you feel all of him, hard and throbbing beneath his sweatpants.

you moan into the kiss as you roll your hips down onto his.

his hands find your waist and slide beneath the hem of your tank top. the way his fingers feel against your bare skin gives you goosebumps.

you stay like this for awhile, eating each others faces and grinding on each other on the floor.

finally, ryland pulls away from your mouth.

“we should move.”

you nod, standing to your feet and stretching out an arm to help him up.

he takes it and stands, then he scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder.

you laugh a little too loud, once again praying that rocky is still asleep.

ryland drops you to your feet at the ladder that leads to the dormitory, then he climbs down first.

you look down and he’s standing there waiting for you with a grin.

you quickly climb down and jump back into his arms with a giggle.

this is the most you have smiled since the launch, your face burns with the pain of flexing an unused muscle.

sure, you’ve laughed and smiled, especially with rocky, but this is different.

he sits you down and walks over to his bed to drag the mattress off and plop it onto the floor.

“don’t want you to hit your head on the frame,” he smiles nervously.

you laugh to ease the tension and then lay down on the thin padding.

you beckon for him with your index finger and he comes to lie on top of you, his body slotting between your legs.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his lips ghosting by your ear.

you shake your head ‘no’ and bite your lip as he starts to kiss your neck.

your body is so responsive to his touch. you arch into his hand as he cups your breast through your tank.

he lets out a shaky breath and props himself up on his elbow to watch as he pulls your shirt up to reveal your chest.

you blush, the cool air from the vent making your nipples harden.

his mouth drops open at the view.

“you’ve really been holding out on me,” he jokes.

you roll your eyes.

he leans down to press a kiss right below your belly button, earning a roll of your hips as his fingers squeeze just above your hip bone.

your hands come up to play in his hair again. it’s even softer than it’s always looked.

he kisses your stomach again, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses from your belly button back up to your breasts.

he takes one in his mouth, tongue swirling around your nipple.

you arch your back your hands falling to cover your face, suddenly feeling shy.

“nuh-uh,” he whispers, his hand coming to move yours away from your eyes.

“wanna watch you. don’t cover that pretty face,” he mutters before leaning back down to pay attention to your other breast.

you moan quietly as he sucks a hickey onto the sensitive skin just below your nipple.

he smirks and moves back down your body, lips ghosting over your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

he finally makes it back down to the waistband of your pajama pants and he looks up at your for approval before slipping his thumbs in the waistband and sliding them down your legs.

he’s pleased to find that you have no underwear on.

he slides down further on the mattress and settles between your legs, his face mere inches from your cunt.

you’re soaked.

you’ve been soaked since he hugged you.

“so pretty,” he groans.

you shake your head no again.

“you better start accepting compliments, young lady,” he commands, his voice stern.

definitely a glimpse of teacher ryland.

you’ve heard that voice before in the lab when he was instructing shapiro and dubois on how to handle astrophage.

before you can think anymore about how ryland being a teacher is extremely sexy to you, he leans in and presses a kiss directly to your clit.

you sigh and wrap your legs around his head.

this spurs him on.

he starts lapping at you, tongue making broad strokes as he moves to press a finger inside of you.

it feels so good, you can’t stop the way your hips roll up into his mouth or the way your legs clench around his head.

you’re surprised he’s not suffocating.

“taste so good, wanna stay here all day,” he groans, his voice sensing shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

“way better than those breakfast burritos, and you know i like those.”

you roll your eyes at him, then they involuntarily roll back in your head when he finds a sensitive spot inside of you.

“oh ryland,” you moan, your voice so breathy and high pitched that you don’t even recognize it.

he moans at the sound, lips still buried in your cunt.

you tug at his hair, he takes it as a sign to thrust his fingers harder and faster inside of you.

“g-god, ryland, ryland, i can’t. i c-can’t,” you babble, rolling your hips against his nose and mouth.

“yes you can. you better cum for me. you better cum all over my face,” he encourages.

he nips at your inner thigh, his fingers still working inside of you even as his wrist starts to hurt.

something snaps inside of you and you shout out his name as you let it all go.

ryland moans as he eats you right through your orgasm. his fingers coming to a stop after you’re done, tongue still cleaning you up gently.

you’re panting heavy now, your head resting back on the mattress as you try and catch your breath.

“you okay?” ryland asks.

“mmhmm”

you give him a thumbs up and press yourself up onto your elbows.

“i have technically been wanting to do that to you for years, you know,” he smirks.

“i honestly didn’t know you had it like that, dr. grace.”

“i have something else for you too, if you accept.”

you look down at his lap, there’s a damp patch on his pajama pants from where he’s been humping the bed. he’s so hard you can see all of him through the cotton.

“oh, i accept.”

you sit all the way up, hand reaching out to squeeze him through his pants.

he groans quietly at the contact, tipping his head back in pleasure.

you swap places with him, getting him to lie down at the top of the mattress as you sling a leg over his lap, lowering yourself to grind against his still clothed length.

“don’t tease me, baby. i don’t know how long i’ll last,” he admits.

you get off of him and slide his pants and underwear down, admiring the way his cock springs up.

he’s long, not too thick (though not thin either), and his tip is weeping with pre cum.

your mouth waters at the sight and you lean down and run your tongue over his tip, collecting his pre cum.

ryland’s mouth falls open as he watches you. it’s taking everything in him not to pick you up, fold you in half, and rail you.

he lets you kiss and lick and suck on his tip for a minute.

“can we..?” he asks, his sentence trailing off.

he still won’t say fuck, even in bed.

you nod.

“how do you want me?” you ask.

he ponders for a moment, weighing his options.

“lay back down for me,” he instructs.

you follow his directions and he comes to sit on his knees between your thighs.

he lifts them up and spreads them further apart, eyes on your cunt as he does.

you’re still soaked, glistening for him.

you get a little shy and try to close your legs so that he can’t look anymore, but he holds them firmly open.

he moves in closer and taps his cock against your clit a few times, relishing in the way your eyes flutter closed in pleasure.

“do you want this? tell me baby,” he asks, ever respectful.

“yes, please. i want you so bad,” you respond immediately.

with that, he presses into you.

he leans forward, elbows on either side of your head, his face inches from yours.

you watch his brow furrow, pleasure and concentration etched in his facial features.

he’s got his glasses on, but his eyes are still visible beneath the lenses. blue, so brilliantly blue that you want to dive into them.

you’re lost in the way he feels inside of you and the way he looks as he moans your name.

his lips are parted now as he slams a little harder, a little deeper inside of you.

you clench around him, your hands moving to scratch around his shoulder blades, your heels now digging into his lower back.

“feel so good wrapped around me,” he praises.

“y-you’re filling me up so good,” you moan in response.

he groans at that, reveling in the praise.

he hits a new spot inside of you and makes note of the way it makes you scratch him a little harder.

his jaw clenches when you squeeze him again, his hips stutter for a second before regaining his pace.

he’s close.

he leans down and sinks his teeth into a sensitive spot just above your collarbone.

you arch up into his mouth in response and he moves a hand to rub at your clit.

you feel yourself spasm around him, a jolt of pleasure moving through you.

and just as ryland is about to flip you over and rail you, you hear rocky.

“what grace and y/n doing!? question”

you both freeze. ryland looks down at you, mortified.

maybe next time.

[doctor-ryland-grace]

WHAT ARE YOUR SMUT HEADCANONS ʕʘ‿ʘʔ

i mean since you asked with OPEN EARS. *Lets these fall out of my pocket.*

NSFW RYLAND GRACE HEADCANONS BELOW. MDNI, 18+

Ryland is a sucker for hand holding, especially during sex. If he's got you on your back, odds are your hand is pinned above your head, his fingers tangling with yours as his hips are trying to keep a steady rhythm but it's hard when you're looking at him through half lidded eyes. If you're riding him, you're the one holding his hand and trailing it up and down your body. *⁀➷If he's got you in doggystyle, that man is draped over your back, jagged thrusts and grabbing your hand, and if you catch him in the right mood, he'll even grab your hand and pin it against your back while you grind back against him, breathing hard into the pillows, your face smushed there.

Ryland leaving marks by accident - he thinks he's just trailing kisses from your neck down to the sweep of your collarbones, but somewhere along the way, you moaning his name, fingers in his hair, the kisses become harder and his teeth come out to play and begin leaving little hickeys. That opens the door to you doing the same thing, a little more careful because of his profession so you tend to leave bite marks and hickeys along his thighs before giving him head. Poor guy has to keep himself from cumming right then and there.

Absolutely in love with morning time sex, probably his favorite. ESPECIALLY when you're on your side and you let him cockwarm. Bonus points if the cockwarming gets him to cum because odds are, he'll eat you out to get you to finish since he couldn't manage the other way. Ryland eats his own cum out of you, NO HESITATION. Your orgasm is his to control and he'd be ashamed if he couldn't bring you to it in the first place.

Visual learner, through and through. If you're in the middle of it and HE does something that's different and gets a wild response from you, Ryland will stop and ask you how it felt based on your reaction and will try to replicate the results over and over again. If you do something different to him, be prepared to do the same thing again and again because he needs to know why this variable difference is so much better than before. *⁀➷Starts to show more confidence in realms like positions. Missionary over time becomes the mating press, doggystyle becomes more about your ass grinding backwards than his thrusts forward. Riding is the pinnacle. It goes from front facing, which Ryland will ALWAYS prefer, but reverse cowgirl, especially when he's able to see his cock sliding in and out of you perfectly, is a great second.

A fan of sensory deprivation, specifically sight. Probably realized it when you were giving him head and he had his eyes squeezed shut the entire time and it just seemed to make the sensation tenfold what it usually was ( though, hey. Ryland really likes watching you too because wow you can do that with your mouth? Who knew? ) The first time you actively blindfold him with his permission was probably the most intense orgasm he's ever had.

Praise kink, both ways around the baby. Ryland loves to hear from you how he's doing. It admittedly takes him a while to get used to dirty talk, but over time, he sees himself craving it. The way you murmur to him. "God, Ryland, your cock feels so good" or "Do you see how you're stretching me out?' down to the grittier "Please fuck me" ( which took him a while to get over. He spent a while flopping over and over again in his mind. Was it the profanity that made it so hot or the implications? Yeah. It was both. ) *⁀➷He'll give you praise in his own awkward way, which is usually him staring at you with his mouth agape. Like he still can't believe his luck. His praise isn't dirty like yours ( he loves it ) but it's gentler, subdued little "God, you look so pretty..." while you're sucking his cock and he's stroking your hair back, or the all to coveted "That's a good girl/boy" when he's buried to the hilt inside of you. Just a little compliment thrown your way that turns you on more, Ryland always so impressed with how your body reacts to him inside of you.

Ryland is a 'fixer'. If you're stressed, anxious about something or just had a bad day, he'll talk to you when you first come home, but he can tell its still bothering you when you're making dinner. Before you can finish, he's turning off the stove and either against the counter or table ( counter preferable, but table works as a back up ), he's got you propped up on it, legs open for him and explaining in that nerdy, Ryland way that 'Orgasms are a great solution' to your ailments before diving in.

*weakly* He has a breeding kink........ I HAVE TWO THINGS FOR YOU ON THIS ONE BUCKLE THE HECK UP. *⁀➷There's the raw, primal instinct and he just short-circuits. If we go this way, Ryland gets possessive in a way that's almost feral. The usually clumsy thrusts you're so used to become deep, grinding strokes designed in some biological way to get as deep as possible. Ryland's got his arms around you, almost pinning you to the mattress and panting in your ear. He can't bring himself to say it but all his brain can comprehend is filling you up, making sure you take it all and letting him sit back and admire his work by watching the cum leak from you. Something in Ryland is obsessed with the visual, the proof of whatever stupid claim his brain has on you. After he's spent, he won't immediately pull out. He'll stay buried deep in you, fingers trailing down to help you get over that hill yourself. He needs to feel your orgasm around him to feel complete. *⁀➷ the more cold, hard science route. It's not just a kink. It's the ultimate biological imperative. Ryland sees it as the most successful and important experiment, merging his genetic material with yours to create a new, brilliant life. The idea of it over time and as your bond deepens becomes his ultimate fantasy and desire. And when you two talk about it and agree it's time to start trying? YEEEEE-HAW. This man is about to live his dream. Ryland'll get this intense, focused look in his eyes as your legs are tied tightly around his waist, his thrusts become more purposeful and he finds himself watching his cock slide in and out of you. The subtle tightening of your legs just tells his brain that its okay to go on, you're yearning for the same thing he is. The ultimate green light. He wants it, he needs it. "J-just imagine it..." He moans softly, trailing his fingers between your legs to help bring you to your orgasm. "U-us making a baby... The perfect genetic combination." This time is different though. He'll wait for you to cum first before unloading into you, as if his mind needs to see your body receptive to his sperm in order for it to be fulfilling.

[kumometeor]

Teaching?｜Ryland Grace x f!reader

✩ Genre: Smut｜MDNI

✩ Word Count: 217

✩ A/N: If there are any academic errors, please correct me. Just finished watching the movie, need this hot dork so bad.

Grace gives me the feeling that he’s the kind of man who would teach you science and biology while fingering you, circling your clit and says “Pollen is the male gametophyte of plants, carrying haploid genetic material and producing the male gametes involved in fertilization, so you see…” and then he realizes you’re not listening to him because he makes you feel so good, so he stops and lowers his head a bit. “You listening?” You bite your lips and nod slightly, grinding your waist a bit to show the urge. He pats your head, “then what did I say? Repeat it f’me.” You widen your eyes and try to keep your tones steady:

“P-pollen…”

“Mhm, and?”

“And um- gene…?”

He frowns, tapping your clit and folds playfully, “wrong answer kitten, and that’s one orgasm for not paying fully attention f’me, but gonna make you understand it first. Basically it’s…” He starts teaching and pressing again.

He’s definitely the kind of man who would whisper so fuckin’ softly to you but still ignoring your pleas to let him stop or slower. “Shh, no arguing. You can do it. Focus on what I’ve told you.” He would praise you a lot. “That’s it… cum for me, kitten. Let it all out. Good girl… so pretty when you cum.”

[lesbiholmes]

It Ain't Me, Babe

Ryland Grace x Reader

______________________________

Ryland Grace’s face is the last one you ever expected to see here on the Vat. Well, maybe not the last face, but not the first, or second, or even the hundredth person. Yet, here he is, standing in front of you, explaining how he discovered astrophage breeding. 

What?

The last time you remember seeing him was when he was moving out of your shared apartment because he was too head sure to admit he was wrong, and ran all the way to the bay area to escape his exile. 

Leaving you alone. Alone with your stupid research and a 7 year long relationship down the drain. 

Whatever.

So while he talks, explaining his stupid discovery in his own stupid way, you aren’t really listening. Just staring at him blankly, Stratt next to him.

Did she bring him onto this? How did she find out about him? Was it through you? You had helped him publish his life ruining paper, did she see your name attached? You had been smart enough to call it quits when you did, resulting in the end of your relationship in Denmark. 

Your career survived because you knew when to call it quits. 

Ryland didn’t.

Stratt had found you due to your specialization in extraterrestrial lifeforms. Had dragged you on as an expertise, and recruited you as an astronaut for Project Hail Mary. It’s not like you had anything to lose, you stopped the whole “relationships” thing when Ryland ran. 

Fate is cruel, you think. Whatever God that’s there is cruel, only a cruel one would bring your ex-fiance to your glorified funeral. 

You had already imagined the last time you would hear from Ryland, he’d see you on the news and realize you were going up into space to save everyone. He'd say something stupid, and thank you for what you were doing, maybe apologize for what happened. You’d send a thumbs up back and that’d be that.

Instead, while looking out at the sea, you feel someone stand next to you, staring at you with sad eyes. You don’t have to turn your head, you don’t even need to think twice.

“Seeing a ghost?”

You can almost imagine his frown worsening, and if you didn’t spend months crying into pillows about him, you’d feel bad.

“I didn’t think you’d be here. Stratt… recruited me, due to our-... my paper. Which, I’m sure you know, is still useless, but I uh… was able to learn some stuff anyways. Stratt has kinda made me an expert in Astrophage. So… I guess we’ll be working together.”

Great. You’ll be working together.

You keep your eyes on the water, it’s calmer than you feel. There’s jealousy in your chest.

Ryland shifts beside you, hands fidgeting, tapping against his thighs, like his body can’t keep up with his brain. Some habits don’t change, apparently.

“Look...”

You beat him to it. “If this is an apology, you’re several years too late.”

He exhales, a soft, wrecked sound. “Yeah. I know.”

Silence again. It’s the kind that used to be comfortable, that used to mean everything was understood without saying it. Now it just feels wrong.

“You left,” you say finally, still not looking at him. “Not just the apartment… or me. You left everything. Your research, your colleagues, your life.”

“I didn’t leave my research,” he says quietly. “That was the problem.”

That gets you to look at him. He looks… older. Not in a dramatic way. Just worn down around the edges. Like someone sanded him a little too hard. There are lines you don’t remember, a tightness in his jaw that never used to be there on his soft features. If you were a stupider person you’d try to smooth it out.

“You blew everything up.”

“Yeah.” A humorless huff. “That too.”

You shake your head, turning back to the ocean. “You didn’t even fight for us. You just decided you were right, and that was it. You were done- with me and your job. No discussion. No compromise. Just… gone. You just left.”

“I thought if I stayed, I’d drag you down with me.”

That wasn’t the answer you expected.

“I was already going down,” he continues, words coming faster now, like he’s been holding them in for years. “The paper, the backlash- I knew it was going to get worse. And you… your career was just starting to take off. You were getting cited, invited places, people actually respected you. I couldn’t-” He breaks off, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I couldn’t be the reason you lost that. The reason you lost what you always told me you wanted so badly.”

“So your solution was to make that decision for me?”

“I thought I was protecting you.”

“Well, congratulations,” you snap. “You did a great job. Really. Nothing says ‘protection’ like running away without a real conversation and letting me find out you moved across the country through facebook like a coward.”

He flinches. Good.

“You don’t get to rewrite it now, you don’t get to turn it into some noble sacrifice.”

“I’m not trying to,” he says. “I screwed up. I know that. I’ve known that for a long time.”

“Then why didn’t you ever say anything?”

That lands harder than anything else. You can see it in the way he freezes.

“I wrote… letters,” he admits after a moment. “A lot of them. I just… never sent them.”

You stare at him. “That’s not better, Ryland.”

“I know.”

God, you hate how easily he says that now. Like he’s had years to practice admitting fault, just never to your face. Another wave crashes against the vat below. The wind picks up, tugging at your clothes, your hair, filling the space where words should be.

“You don’t get to fix this,” you say eventually. “Not now. Not here.”

“I’m not trying to fix it,” he replies. “I just-” He hesitates. “You deserve an explanation. I didn’t expect to see you again. Not like this.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “Funny how that worked out.”

A humorless almost-smile flickers across his face. “Yeah. End-of-the-world reunion tour.”

You huff despite yourself. It’s brief and involuntary. You hate that it feels right.

For a second, something like the old Ryland is there… lighter, softer, the one who used to make you laugh in the middle of arguments just to break the tension. It’s gone just as quickly.

“I didn’t know you were on the project either. Not until I got here.”

You believe him. You’re not sure why. Maybe because lying was never his problem.

Being *right* was.

Another long pause settles in.

“You’re really doing it?” he asks softly. “Going up there?”

You shrug, like it doesn’t matter. Like you didn’t already say yes to a one-way trip into the dark. “Someone has to.”

He nods, eyes dropping to the ground. “Yeah. That tracks.”

You study him for a moment.

“You?” you ask. “Are you volunteering too, or are you sticking to ruining things on Earth?”

He lets out a quiet breath. “They haven’t asked me to go.”

“Would you?”

He looks at you then. Really looks.

And for a second, it feels like being seen again in a way you haven’t let yourself be seen since he left.

“…I don’t know,” he admits.

Honest. At least that hasn’t changed.

“Figures,” you say, turning back to the ocean. “You always ran when it mattered.”

That one hits.

You know it does.

But instead of snapping back, he just nods slowly, like he’s accepting the blow.

“Yeah,” he says. “I did.”

The wind carries the words away before you can decide what to do with them.

You cross your arms, staring out at the endless stretch of gray-blue water, and wish, just for a second, that this was any other reunion. But it isn’t.

It’s this one, and he’s here, and before you know it, you won’t be.

Years pass faster than they have any right to. It’s not because time is kinder here, quite the opposite actually. It’s harsher, measured in simulations failed, candidates lost, bodies that couldn’t adapt, minds that couldn’t hold. But routine has a way of dulling sharp edges, and proximity has a way of wearing people down into something… softer. Or at least something quieter.

You and Ryland have not fixed things.

You have schedules that never quite overlap unless Stratt forces it, meetings where you both speak, but never to each other, papers passed back and forth with clinical notes, stripped of any kind of personality.

Then one day, somethings different.

He makes a mistake in a calculation, something simple, something old Ryland would’ve caught instantly. You point it out without thinking, scribbling over his work with a muttered, “You dropped a factor here.”

When he stiffens you expect defensiveness, maybe an argument. 

Instead, he just says, “Oh. Yeah. You’re right. Thanks.”

And it feels like how you both used to work together, what brought you together and then tore you apart. It feels right, which is all too wrong.

And it happens again, and again. Conversations become less like landmines and more like… negotiations. You’ll still snap sometimes. He still shuts down sometimes, but neither of you runs anymore. You’re figuring out how to know the new versions of each other, and something about it makes your heart ache. 

It’s months before launch now, and you find yourselves alone in the lab at 2 a.m., surrounded by equipment and the dim glow of samples pulsing like captured starlight. You both are exhausted, which is probably why you fall into conversation.

“You’re holding it wrong,” he says, nodding at your setup.

You don’t even look up. “I’m not.”

“You are. The thermal gradient-”

“I accounted for it.”

“For the old model,” he replies, stepping closer. “We updated the parameters after-”

You shove the tablet at him. “Then show me where I’m wrong.”

If this were a year ago, you’d argue, he’d give up on the conversation and you two would call it a day. But he just… takes the tablet, leaning in beside you, though not quite crowding you. Your shoulders brush, which should make you feel nothing.

Apparently nothing is right today.

He scrolls, frowning in concentration. “Here. This assumption… see? It doesn’t hold if the replication rate spikes under radiation stress.”

You follow where he’s pointing, and… he’s right.

“That’s new.”

“Yeah.”

“...Good catch. Thank you.”

He glances at you, checking for sarcasm that isn’t there.

“…You’re welcome,” he says.

You fix the model together, movements syncing in that old, familiar rhythm you swore you’d buried. Passing tools without asking. Finishing each other’s thoughts before they’re fully formed.

You both recognize the familiar dance but don’t say anything to break it.

By the time launch is close enough to feel real, the distance between you has changed. It’s a gap now, one you both stand at the edge of, neither quite willing to cross.

You eat in the same room now, almost together. Conversations happen, not about either of you. Never about either of you. Instead, about work, about the mission, about stupid things like whether Stratt has ever slept in her life.

(“She doesn’t blink enough.”

“She blinks.”

“Name one time.”

“…That’s not the point.”)

You almost let yourself think things are like they were. 

The night before final simulations lock, you’re staring out at the water.

“Hey.”

You don’t turn right away. “Hi.”

He comes to stand beside you, closer than he would’ve before. Not touching. Just… within reach. For a while, neither of you speaks, and it’s almost that same comfortable silence it used to be.

“That’s it, huh?” he says eventually. “We’re actually doing this.”

“Looks like it.”

“You’re… ready?”

You shrug. “As I’ll ever be for a suicide mission.”

He exhales softly. “Yeah, that’s… that’s fair.”

Silence settles again. You’re both anxious, you messing with your necklace under your shirt and him twiddling his thumbs.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to say,” he adds.

“If this is another apology-”

“It’s not.”

You glance at him. He’s not looking at you. Just out at the water, hands shoved into his pockets like he’s trying to hold himself together.

“I meant what I said back then,” he continues. “About not trying to fix it.”

“Good,” you say. “Because you can’t.”

“I know.” A beat. “But… I also meant that you deserved an explanation. And I gave you one, but-” He hesitates. “It wasn’t the whole truth.”

You sigh, turning fully toward him now. “Ryland-”

“I was scared,” he says, cutting you off, “I told myself it was about your career, about protecting you, and part of that was true, but mostly… I was scared of being wrong.”

You blink.

“That paper, the backlash- everyone looking at me like I’d lost it. I could handle that. What I couldn’t handle was you looking at me the same way.”

“I never-”

“I know,” he says quickly. “You didn’t. But I thought you would eventually. And I didn’t want to watch that happen. So I left first.”

The words hang there.

“…Running away is a terrible strategy,” you finally come up with.

He lets out a quiet, breathy almost-laugh. “Yeah. I’ve had some time to reflect on that.”

“You think?” You stare out at the ocean, before sighing, “So what, now you’re not scared anymore?”

He considers that.

“No,” he says. “I still am. I’d still run. But I feel… I feel like I’m moving in the right direction.”

There’s something in the way he says it that lands differently than anything before. You nod slowly, like you’re filing it away.

“Good,” you say. “That’s… good.”

“Hey,” he says quietly.

“Yeah?”

“If things were different…”

You shake your head, a small, firm motion. “They’re not.”

“I know.”

Silence.

The kind that says more than words could.

After a while, you let out a breath. “You know, for what it’s worth… you’re not the same person you were. So… if things were different. Yeah.”

__________

It’s been a month on the Hail Mary, and you and Ryland have gotten to know each other pretty well. He’s a bit dorky, kind, and witty. You have to imagine you were friends back on earth from the way you two get along.

It feels like you two were two parts of a puzzle, no wonder you were chosen for this mission together. A team like this? It happens once in a lifetime. 

You’ve managed to be set up pretty well as you approach Tau Ceti, Ryland’s sleeping now, you technically should be too, but you wanted to finally look through your personal things. Ryland had already seen his, including the lone photo of himself. You assume your belongings might be similar, and they are for the most part. The only difference is you have two other photos, one a photo of you grinning next to a woman you remember as Eva Stratt, holding her in a bear hug, and the other…

The other photo.

You and Ryland, with your left hand held up to the camera where a ring is being shown off on your left hand. You two look much younger, and he’s holding you close and staring at you with something in his eyes. 

Like you created the earth itself.

Your hand reaches for the necklace you have on, the ring hanging off it.

Weird. 

Guess you were close friends?

_______________________________

A/N: Part 2 if I feel like it maybe either way reqs open so if anyone has ideas lmk!!!!

[suspiriuums]

came across a tweet asking if ryland would get embarrassed if you asked him to flex and im oungngjrkfkd im wet im throbbing. he’s sitting at the kitchen table grading assignments and he’s wearing one of those tight dumb ass science shirts and you’re So Fucking Turned On for whatever reason. you plop down at the chair next to him and give him a cheesy grin and he looks up at you through his glasses like “can i help you my love?” and you waste no time before telling him “flex”. and you can see it in his eyes where he’s thinking about it, his face gradually getting more red. he laughs and asks you where this sudden urge to see his muscles came from and you’re just like i dont have to explain myself. flex your biceps NOW. he thinks about it some more, his face at Maximum Redness. then he puts his pen down, pulls back his sleeve, and flexes. and you’re the happiest woman in the world, squealing like a little girl and giggling and telling him thank you as you plant kisses all over his pretty face and you’re so fucking insane that you cant help yourself but bite down on his bicep which prompts him to be like ok thats enough LOLOLOL. but dont worry you’re both laughing during all of this and ryland’s happy to give you whatever you want no matter how odd the request.

i want him to put me in a fucking headlock.

[prudejudee]

Ryland with his big juicy arms manhandling you while you guys play fight which leads into sex ugghhsbd

That’s it!!

It goes from giggling and screaming to whining and gasping VERY FAST!

Ryland finally getting you at an angle he can hold you down and while you're trying to escape he leans forward and bites the side of your neck and you just moan so loud and go limp and he's taken aback by how easy it is to make you all weak..

Goes on a biting spree while grinding into you till you both cum in your pants :p!!

[flowersunderme]

Problems in the Hail Mary

Pairing: Ryland Grace x fem!reader

Warnings: Content for adults over 18, explicit sexual content (smut), fluff, mdni, affection, plot-driven porn, established relationship (they are married), breast stimulation (breastfeeding + light nipple play + computer that extracts), use of pet names (sweetheart), mention of abortion and baby loss, reader masturbation with a strange sex machine from space?, Ryland's masturbation, many mentions of milk and Grace's sperm, sperm injection, Ryland crying and screaming (so hot), the reader is slightly dom.

Word Count: 5.3K

Summary: You wake up in space in trouble, your legs and hips are fractured… but most of all: your breasts are engorged and full of milk, and maybe you have a parasitic infection in your uterus? Ryland will have to help you while the machine roughly heals you, although you seem to be enjoying it.

Author’s Note: This was very… stimulating for me and I hope you like it. I love Ryland with all my heart.

Your eyes were large and expressive, but now they looked much more bulging and frightened. Your brown irises were darkened by the dim light of the spaceship. In Earth's sunlight, they would have appeared lighter, almost honey-colored, and Ryland remembered that. Your black pupils dilated as you stared at the unknown man in front of you who, despite your complete lack of memory, exuded confidence and intellect, his glasses giving him a terribly nerdy look. Your heart was racing, and that's when you glanced down to notice the marks on your breasts. They were swollen, adorned with two painful red circles. You had to continue scanning your surroundings to notice the wet cups hanging above you next to the funnels. The sight frightened you; it seemed ugly and fetishistic… suddenly, the person next to you no longer seemed so trustworthy.

"Ah… ahmm…"

It was difficult to form words after being asleep for so long, practically in a coma. Your hands try to rise, but you can only move them as if you want to grab something… but you only manage to touch the air. Your gaze drops to the floor, where the tubes have fallen and there are several drops of blood. All your medical equipment hurts… a lot.

Ryland immediately recognized the expression on your face and what it meant. He knew what you were thinking: that you were confused and scared and couldn't remember anything. Your gaze shifted from his face to your body, and he followed it, noticing the red marks and circles on your bare breasts. Your expression told him everything. He didn't want you to think the worst, so he spoke calmly and gently.

"No, no, no, wait… no, it's not what you think."

"He… um… I…"

You tried to speak, but the word stuck on your lips. You kept staring in disgust at the funnels above you—a strange contraption that looked like some space-age version of a breast pump or a conventional extractor. The real question was: Why did you need it? Where were you? Who was that man? Who were you?

Your naked body looked too good—you were even quite well-developed and strong. The blanket Ryland had wrapped you in out of respect had fallen to the floor. You didn't look particularly athletic or anything like that, but you were too well-built to have been in a coma. You touched your lower abdomen. You had to take several deep breaths to focus, and that's when you felt how strange your uterus felt—not how you remembered it, not how it should be. It felt empty. Tears welled in your eyes and rolled slowly down your cheeks. You tried to speak again.

"Help…" you pleaded with a sharp moan.

Ryland's heart broke when he saw your tears. His immediate instinct was to go and hug you, but he knew that would only increase your doubts. So, instead of touching you, he bent down to pick up the blanket from the floor and carefully placed it over you, making sure to cover your nakedness. His face was a picture of concern as he looked at you.

"It's okay, it's okay, everything's going to be alright…" He managed to speak calmly, though he was far from feeling at ease.

"Help… help…"

You repeated it again; it seemed to be the only word you could manage. You wanted to wake up from this nightmare soon… and be back in your bed in your little house with your husband. You wanted to wake up and tell him about the crazy dream you'd had. But the image of the same man who was asking you to calm down came to mind. It seemed to be him: the same one from your memories of your life on Earth.

You wanted to get up abruptly, sitting on the strange bed, or rather, cot. However, your hips ached instantly… they felt a little wider. Your body didn't feel like your own. Your bottom hurt. Your breasts were swollen and too big… you noticed that your nipples were leaking small drops of milk. Your crying intensified.

Ryland froze for a moment, seeing how much you seemed to be suffering. His first impulse was to reach out, wrap you in a hug, and reassure you that everything would be alright. He couldn't bear the fact that you didn't remember him and that your first encounter was marked by trauma. But he also knew his intentions would be misinterpreted. He bit his lip and continued speaking calmly, still crouched in front of you. His gaze shifted from your tearful eyes to your body.

"Please, calm down. I'll explain everything, just… breathe…"

"Please… help me…"

You said again. It bothered you that he wasn't coming closer. You assumed (based on your memory) that this man was your husband, so it bothered you a lot that he wasn't coming to comfort you. You were on the verge of losing your mind. Your hands left your stomach and you tried to open your arms, as if to show that you wanted to be hugged. The blanket only covered your legs and your sobs didn't stop. Ryland had been working with you there for days, asleep and wrapped in the blanket. He knew waking you was a risk, so he decided to wait until you woke up eventually.

"Please…"

Ryland couldn't hold back any longer. With a sigh of resignation, he quickly approached and enveloped you in a soft but firm embrace. His hand gently stroked your hair as he murmured,

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I know you don't recognize me now, but I'm here." His voice was husky with emotion. "We'll work this out together."

With his other arm, he pressed your back against him to ease your trembling.

"I know who you are… my love, but I can't remember your name. I'm sorry."

Your voice softened slightly despite your panic. Your tone was sweet, low, and maternal. You couldn't quite put your finger on why maternal, but you guessed the milk in your breasts was trying to tell you something… Your weak arms rested on his shoulders, and your hands touched his back. Your whole body ached. Even though you'd been in a coma, your hair was styled, clean… perfect. As if something, or rather, someone, had brushed it.

Your words were music to his ears. Knowing that you at least somehow remembered that you were husband and wife brought him some comfort, even though you couldn't recall his name. His embrace tightened as your hands rested on his shoulders and your head tilted toward him, pressed against his neck. His fingers gently slid through your hair, stroking it tenderly.

"It's okay, sweetheart, don't worry. I'll explain everything."

You didn't know when you'd fallen back asleep. However, you suppose you were too tired to know. You're lying in bed again… but now there's no strange tube or funnel attached to you. In a way, you're grateful.

You stay quiet and still… your breasts don't hurt as much anymore. Your hand grips the lilac blanket and you lift it slightly to see underneath: there's cream on your breasts… covering the painful marks left by the pump. It's traumatic… apparently, all this time you were asleep in your induced coma, that machine was extracting milk from you as if you were some kind of cow. Apparently, a space cow.

You take a deep breath and look around carefully: this place feels like a spaceship.

Ryland had been sitting a few feet away in a small chair, watching you closely, trying to make sure you were okay and calm. Your movement alerted him, and he looked up. He saw you lift the blanket and look at your body, especially your breasts, with concern and confusion.

"I… I put cream on you. So it wouldn't hurt," he said awkwardly. "I've been pumping your milk since I woke up."

"Why? What the hell?"

Ryland swallowed hard at the look on your face and sat up, taking a few steps to the edge of the bed to be closer to you.

"Your body was producing milk, so we had to express it," he explained carefully. "If I let it accumulate, it could cause pain, inflammation, or an infection."

He sat on the edge of the bed beside you, keeping a few inches away to give you space.

"Did you touch my breasts?"

The bluntness of your question made Ryland's cheeks flush. He glanced to the side, uncomfortable and embarrassed, and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Ah, uh… yes, well… yes," he admitted reluctantly. "I had to… milk you."

Little Grace felt embarrassed by the whole thing. She wasn't trying to be a pervert, she was just looking out for you. However, you couldn't stop noticing her defined biceps in that short-sleeved shirt with the Project Hail Mary logo. Then, your tone changed:

"…Touch me again, please. It hurts…"

The request suddenly took Ryland by surprise. He turned to you, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, a look of confusion on his face.

"Um… wait a minute. You want me to milk you?" he asked. His tone reflected a mixture of surprise and concern. "Not that I have anything against it, but… why?"

"Aren't you my husband, you idiot?"

The insult made Ryland's brow furrow even more. He cleared his throat and crossed his arms, adopting a more serious expression.

"Yes, I am. But that doesn't mean I should touch you like that just because you ask me to."

His expression wasn't one of anger, but rather of caution. He didn't want to take advantage of your confusion without your full consent.

“Ryland, please…” You had remembered his name.

Upon hearing his name from your lips, Ryland visibly softened. His serious expression lessened slightly, though he still seemed a little uncertain.

"Fine, fine…" he sighed. "But only to ease the pain, okay? It's for no other reason."

He sat up a little more, standing in front of you and gently reaching for your breasts.

“I remember you’re a freak and you like my tits, Grace. Don’t try to hide it.”

Ryland's cheeks flushed even more at your comment. It was true, he liked your breasts, but it felt inappropriate to admit it so directly in these situations.

"I'm not trying to hide anything," he replied, trying to sound as serious as possible, as his hands gently rested on your breasts. "I just… I just want to make sure it's the right thing to do."

“Yes… it’s the right thing to do, they hurt…”

You said with a hint of sadness, his hands on your full, tender breasts bringing some relief. This whole breastfeeding thing was so new… even more so after a space awakening. Having his hands playing with your breasts helped a lot, a great deal, to be honest.

You turned over in bed, lying on your side, and your soft breasts fell to that side like firm drops, which Grace continued to caress. He played with them like a child, patting them up and then down. You closed your eyes to bear the pain, and your expression was adorable as you moaned softly while Ryland’s hands pampered you. The pads of his fingers caressed the cream-covered skin, bringing you relief. His hands were an obsession for you; you had noticed the veins on the back of his hand… how large and strong they were… how he typed or moved them, making innocent gestures.

Ryland watched as you turned over in bed and lay on your side. His heart melted at the sight of your pained yet tender expression as your eyes closed. His hands began to gently caress your breasts, with soft, gentle movements.

"I'm sorry, darling…" he said in a soft, compassionate voice. "I try to be as gentle as possible."

You keep your eyes closed as Ryland strokes you. A few drops of milk leak from your breasts, falling onto Grace's hands and down your abdomen. Suddenly, the computer buzzes:

"y/n Grace, case 769071. Anomaly detected. Initiating process, searching for stability."

Ryland froze at the sound of the computer's voice. His hand stopped in its tracks, and his face showed a mixture of confusion and concern.

"What…? Anomaly?" he muttered to himself. "y/n, don't move."

With quick but controlled movements, he carefully released your chest and turned to the computer panel. His fingers clicked rapidly as he searched for more information about this "anomaly."

"I don't understand what's happening…"

Your eyes snap open, but you're too tired to panic right now. Your expression turns weary, and you let out a sigh. Obviously, you're not going anywhere. Meanwhile, the panel displays a medical report detailing some of your "anomalies": engorged breasts, a hip injury, fractures in both legs… a parasitic infection in the uterus? Great. Who would put you in a coma like that? (You're starting to think you were dragged here.)

Without warning, the computer arms move to support you. You tilt your head to the side in confusion.

"Ryland?… Sweetheart?…"

The robotic arms position you on the bed, which looks more like a gurney or a gynecological chair as it moves and expands. Suddenly, the machine opens your legs and holds your thighs.

Ryland's heart pounded as he watched the robotic arms grip you mercilessly. His face paled, and his voice came out almost as a shout.

"NO! Don't touch her!" He lunged forward, trying to block the machines' movement. "y/n, don't look—"

But it was too late. The gurney had already transformed beneath you, forcing your legs open against your will as cold, metallic sensors began to slide between them.

"STOP RIGHT NOW!" Ryland frantically pounded on the computer panel.

Ryland's panic is endearing and makes you feel protected even in this delicate situation. You try to close your thighs but can't; the system seems to be holding you firmly.

The cold sensors between your legs make you feel a little better, easing the pain. The computer's arms placed ice packs on your hips. Meanwhile, the machine turned on some lights to observe your private parts. The computer speaks again:

"Stay calm, Ms. Grace."

Ryland struggled to control his own despair and terror as he watched the scene unfold before him. The machine's calmness, compared to the chaos in his mind, irritated him even more.

"Calm, you say!" he hissed, through gritted teeth. "You're… you're abusing her. She's my wife…"

He couldn't tear his gaze away from your spread thighs, held by those emotionless machines. With every passing second, his heart broke a little more at your vulnerability. His eyes were wet, his expression one of anguish and fear. He was a baby.

A tender smile touches your lips when Ryland says those words; it's so sweet of him. One of your hands reaches out to find his. Actually, what the machine was doing… as disturbing as it was… had made you feel a little better. You don't want Grace to cry.

“I'm… okay, Ryland… sweetheart…”

Before you can say anything else, a new sensation arises between your legs. The computer inserts… whatever tool it is into your entrance as if it were an easy task. It even feels lubricated. It's as if someone meticulously programmed all of this. It's a rather strange tool: it's shaped like a small dildo, but the tip has a tiny, long, and pointed needle. When it goes in, it's not painful… it even makes you feel somewhat relaxed and aroused.

Ryland froze as he watched the tool enter you. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes flicked from your face to the thing penetrating you with such… precision. Then, he let out a sharp little yelp.

"What the hell—?" His voice was hoarse afterward, almost a growl. "y/n… you shouldn't feel good about that. It's a damn machine!"

He tried to grip your hand tighter while his other palm frantically pounded the computer panel, tears streaming down his cheeks:

"TURN THAT DEVICE OFF RIGHT NOW! WHAT IS THIS? WHO PROGRAMMED YOU TO DO THIS?!"

"The system was programmed by y/n Grace."

The computer repeated your name in that cold, monotonous voice, as if it were simply confirming a routine task.

The tool continued working on you with meticulous precision, moving in and out of your input as it carried on with its programmed task, completely ignoring Ryland's pleas.

He turned to the computer, despair and anger etched on his face. "Damn it, what the hell are you doing? This is harming my wife!"

“No… Ry… it feels good.”

The words from your mouth made Ryland freeze again, in surprise and confusion. His gaze returned to you, and he noticed… noticed the way your body seemed to respond to that strange instrument. Your expression was a mixture of pleasure and relaxation… something it shouldn't make you feel, but… it did.

"y/n, sweetheart…" Ryland whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief. "This… no… shouldn't feel good… it's… it's a fucking medical instrument…"

“And y/n Grace programmed this system to provide the user’s comfort throughout the entire process.”

The computer spoke again. You didn’t remember creating that program… you didn’t remember much. However, you assumed the machine kept a record of all your preferences because it subtly altered the rhythm to make you feel good. Your hand presses Ryland’s. At this point, it wouldn’t surprise you if the dildo inside you was an exact replica of Ryland’s cock. In fact, the thought of putting a mold of it in there sounds good.

Suddenly, the device inside you stops… it seems to be planning to do something different this time. Your walls hold it in place, and it gently stretches them as it enters again… deep, all the way to the limit. You feel the needle starting to prick you and you moan softly.

“Antidote injection in progress. Remain still and breathe.”

Ryland couldn't help but gasp again when he heard the word "injection." His body tensed instantly, and his hand gripped yours tightly.

"ANTIDOTE?! WHAT KIND OF ANTIDOTE?!" he exclaimed, staring frantically at the device.

But it was too late. The needle had already pierced your inner skin as that thing continued to move inside you… as if measuring every inch to make sure it reached exactly where it needed to go. Ryland felt a shiver run down his spine when he heard your moans—they weren't just from the pain.

“Antidote for parasitic infection, Dr. Grace.”

The computer kept talking, but you weren't paying attention. You let your head fall back onto the pillow, panting. Your hand gripped Ryland's tightly as the liquid was injected inside you. Then you held it a little more gently, lovingly stroking the back of your hand. A few minutes later, the antidote had been injected, but the device still hadn't come out.

“Do you want Dr. Grace's sperm? We have several doses available.”

The machine's words left Ryland stunned. His gaze flicked from the device to you and then back to the computer, disbelief and confusion etched on his tear-streaked face.

"My sperm… what the hell…?" he murmured, still gripping your hand tightly, though now with less tension.

He couldn't help but glance down at where the device remained inside you, then looked back at you, his cheeks even redder. "What… what would they want that for?"

“Computer… What is Grace’s sperm used for?”

The machine processed your question with a brief buzz. Its response came in the same neutral tone, as if it were reading from a manual.

"Dr. Grace's sperm is on file for:

Assisted reproduction, case 769071.

Intrauterine fertilization following parasite removal.

Hormone relaxant dose (see 'Relief' protocol, page 45)."

Ryland paled at the word "reproduction." His eyes flicked across the screen, then back to you—as if searching for some sign that this was a joke.

"…y/n." His voice was hoarse. "Did you… program this?"

“Apparently so… explain relief protocol on page 45.”

The computer buzzed briefly before responding, its voice cold and mechanical:

"Relief Protocol (page 45)

Direct injection of sperm into the uterus via intramuscular device.

Effect: Immediate relaxation of the female nervous system + increased endorphins (87% effectiveness).

User y/n Grace Note: 'Works best if Ryland is present.' Signed: y/n G."

Ryland opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

"…y/n." His tone was a mixture of horror and indignation while wiping away her tears. "You… YOU put me in a jar like I was a damn cookie?!"

"Ry… Ry, I promise I don't remember programming this… I'm sorry, but it's brilliant."

You can't help but laugh at how absurd this is; it just seems like something you'd dream if you'd gone to sleep drunk. You relax a little. If your note says it works better if Ryland is present, you're going to listen to it. Your hands find his, you place him on your chest and stroke him.

"Computer, can we activate that protocol?"

Ryland let out a frustrated groan and gritted his teeth, still trying to process the whole situation. But he couldn't resist the tenderness of your laughter and the gentle caress of your hands on his palm.

Then the computer buzzed again, a reminder that the conversation wasn't over yet. Your cold voice broke the silence, followed by a faint activation beep.

"The 'Relief' protocol will activate in 30 seconds, Ms. Grace."

"Thank you."

It was endearing that you were thanking a computer that was created to obey orders. You allow yourself to rest calmly on the examination table, your thighs still restrained and spread. The strange device that had injected the antidote earlier was still inside you; you could feel a trickle of excitement run down your thighs, and your cheeks flushed.

Ryland tried to remain calm as well, pulling a high chair up to the side of your bed to sit beside you.

As the protocol was activated, Ryland took a seat in the chair he had pulled up next to you, watching you intently, a mixture of concern still evident in his gaze. His eyes moved from your face to your open body and back again to your face.

He could see the drop of fluid slide down your folds, and his throat moved as he swallowed. His hand lightly squeezed yours, as if it were his anchor in the midst of the confusion.

"Sweetheart… you have to participate, please."

Ryland froze, his eyes widening behind his glasses. He swallowed hard and felt his pulse quicken.

"Participate… how?" he asked, trying to sound firm, but his tone failed him completely. "And… this is a machine. It's not me inside you."

Even so, he couldn't help but glance down as the device began to vibrate gently—as if it were preparing for something more.

"Well… but they're going to inject me with your…"

Ryland swallowed again, his gaze still fixed on your crotch. His voice grew a little huskier as he spoke again.

"I guess… I guess that's true."

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and his pants were starting to feel a little tight. Despite everything, he tried to remain calm, and with great difficulty, he looked you in the eyes again.

"So… what do I do?"

"Can you pet me?… just cuddle me."

Ryland exhaled a sigh of relief mixed with nervousness. It was something he could do without feeling like he was crossing a dangerous line.

"Yes… yes, of course," he replied, his voice softer now as he extended his free hand toward your abdomen.

With slow, careful movements—as if afraid of hurting you—he began to trace small circles on your skin, moving up to your ribs. His gaze remained intense on you; he didn't want to miss a single detail of your reactions.

The sensation of his hand touching your belly made you feel uneasy, but also comforted. Then a new memory came to mind… but your belly wasn't flat and empty like it was now… it was full and round. You sighed and tried to focus on Ryland's caresses moving up to your chest. Your own hands rested on his forearms and you gently pulled his body against yours to embrace him. Your lips found their way to his.

Ryland leaned forward at your request, drawing his body closer to yours. His eyes were still filled with concern, but something different was also beginning to emerge as he gazed at you: tenderness and desire.

When his lips touched yours, his heart leaped. His caressing movements were no longer innocent; they now moved with a subtle purpose, moving higher and higher up your torso, tracing the sides of your breasts.

When your lips part, you breathe heavily… the device between your legs is still doing its job. However, it doesn't seem to change its actions much. You're still worried about what's happening to you and where you are.

"Computer… so the machine extract milk from me while I was in a coma?"

The computer buzzed, and after a moment, it responded in the same monotonous, mechanical tone:

"Yes, Mrs. Grace. Your body was producing milk during your sleep. It was regularly expressed using an automated procedure."

Ryland continued to caress your body, but his gaze remained fixed on the computer. His expression was somber as he processed the information.

"Reason for breastfeeding?"

"It's not necessary," Grace said, trying to sound calm.

But the computer processed the question with a brief buzz, then replied in its neutral, cold tone:

"Reason for breastfeeding: Postpartum programming. Your uterus was prepared to receive artificial embryos after awakening. Records indicate you were pregnant prior to the induced coma (see file 769071-B). The fetus did not survive the process."

Ryland let out a stifled sound, as if he'd been punched in the stomach, and began rattling off affectionate nicknames to distract you. "My love, my wife…"

"Computer, be more specific."

The computer buzzed again, processing your request. Then it responded with more details:

"Mrs. Grace was 12 weeks pregnant when she went into a coma. The fetus was female. There is no evidence of previous miscarriages or births."

Ryland's hands trembled involuntarily as he tried to keep you steady. His gaze returned to you, his mind filled with unspoken fears—and a touch of affection.

"Ry…"

Your voice was sad and as low as a whisper, like a cry for help. Your palms covered your face shyly as you sobbed. Before all this madness, you were pregnant, and you didn't even notice? How could you put your baby in danger like that? You feel so guilty.

Ryland's heart broke with each of your sobs. With a groan, he moved closer to you and wrapped his arms around you in a hug, cradling your body against his as best he could in that position.

"Psh…sh, sh…it's okay. It's okay, I'm here." He tried to comfort you, though his own voice cracked with emotion. His hand returned to your abdomen, but this time with a much gentler, more tender gesture.

As tears streamed down your cheeks, you pulled your palms away and tried to breathe slowly to avoid hyperventilating. Your body trembled against Ryland. When you spoke, all you wanted was to fix everything: your tone turned serious.

"Computer… What exactly happened to my baby?"

"Ms. Grace, you don't need to know those details right now. Just relax, stay still, and focus on the protocol."

The computer's words made Ryland tense up even more, his embrace becoming more protective. He leaned closer to whisper in your ear, trying to calm you and control the urge to confront the computer right then.

"Shhh… it's okay, sweetheart. Ignore that damn thing. It'll drive you crazy."

His hands slid from your hips to your thighs, a gentle touch to soothe your body.

"Ry… I'm sorry… I really didn't know."

The sensation between your legs changes as the device pulls out slightly and then roughly thrusts back inside you. The needle pricks you again, and it hurts. You moan softly.

Ryland gritted his teeth at the sound of your moans, his body tensing with each whimper. His fingers slid to your hips and tightened their grip in a protective gesture.

"y/n… look at me. Relax. Just… just focus on me." He whispered, his voice firm yet gentle. His gaze returned to your face, his expression anguished but filled with a desire to distract you from the situation.

Ryland's hands on your hips, along with the ice packs, made you feel a little better. It was probably a great idea for your aching hips, and you thank your past self for creating this system. You thank it even more when you feel the needle slowly inject something inside you, a slightly thick liquid that gradually fills you. Without realizing it, you feel more energized and calm… as if you've had an orgasm. You assume it's Grace's sperm.

Ryland noticed the difference in your reactions. Your complaints seemed to lessen as the thick liquid was injected into you, giving way to soft moans and small shudders. His gaze intensified, and his pulse quickened again. He could sense the change in you, the desire that seemed to be growing… and he was experiencing something similar, too. He gritted his teeth again, trying to control his rising desire as he held your hips firmly.

The computer spoke again:

"Dr. Grace, it seems he's feeling horny."

Apparently, your past self knew this was likely to happen. A robotic arm extended a roll of toilet paper to him as if they were mocking him.

Ryland's cheeks flushed dark red at the computer's comment, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. His gaze shifted from you to the roll of paper the machine dispensed, and he took it with a hint of shyness and embarrassment.

"Uh… yeah, well."

His voice was huskier, and his gaze returned to your body… especially to your open thighs, held in that position by the examination table.

"Dr. Grace, you have an erection. Would you like to masturbate so we can collect another dose of your sperm?"

Ryland's face turned even redder, and his jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth. The fact that the computer had mentioned that, in such a clinical and emotionless way, was… unsettling. Yet the urge he felt was growing stronger by the moment. His gaze traveled back over your body, and his right hand moved to the zipper of his pants.

"Damn it… you and your past you."

"Thank you for agreeing, Dr. Grace. y/n will be very pleased that you cooperated. You see, the doses of his sperm are important to her. Please proceed it in the next vial."

One of the robot arm handed her a lab vial with a note from the old y/n that read: Ryland's milk, with some hearts drawn on it in marker.

Meanwhile, you could only watch him with a somewhat wicked yet tender smile as you continued to be injected with his semen.

Ryland let out a groan, somewhere between frustrated and embarrassed, clutching the vial with the note. His gaze lingered on the drawn hearts—as if he'd been slapped with ironic tenderness.

"God… my wife was a damn sadist," he muttered, but his hand was already clumsily unbuckling his belt.

Though he tried to maintain some semblance of composure, he couldn't help but look at you as they injected you with more of himself. Your expression made him swallow hard—that wicked, sweet mixture he knew so well…

"I'm sorry, I love you."

A soft smile touched Ryland's lips, though he was still trying to process the situation, and the computer wasn't helping matters. But when he heard you say those words, his expression softened. His hand remained on his zipper, but he paused for a moment to smile at you tenderly.

"And I love you too, silly."

His tone was affectionate, but also a little irritated. He felt him getting harder and harder. Finally, he lowered the zipper and freed his erection from his underwear. He placed his fist lengthwise and began rubbing it up and down, pulling his cock out and pushing it back in.

"You're adorable when you masturbate…"

Ryland smirked at your words, his face flushed red and his eyes half-closed. He threw his head back. His glasses fell onto his jaw and dangled behind one ear.

"Shut up… you make me like this." His tone was breathless and desperate.

He held the bottle, fulfilling his duty.

[doctor-ryland-grace]

i need to talk about this before i like freaking explode okay okAY BOOK SPOILERS AHEAD

So, in the book, Ryland ends up with really severe burns when Rocky comes to save him, like a lot more than what we get in the movie and tell me why

TELL ME

Whyyyyyy I want to write a little Ryland piece where, after it's happened, maybe once his burns start to heal a little, and because he doesn't like how cold Armando is, he asks you to put the antibiotics on them for him and to help re-wrapping. the INTIMACY, THE YEARNING, maybe it's the first time you're TOUCHING without cause ( cause being mission related ). I'm just. I need to lay down someone HOLD ME.

[prudejudee]

P!link

https://x.com/moodlick/status/2040202260634915043?s=46

Any of the RG boys as munches perhaps

I love munch rygos boys mfhg.

Holland: drops to his knees before you, gripping your thighs firmly as he dives into your pussy with sloppy, broad laps of his tongue over your swollen folds before spearing deep inside with fervent thrusts.

He spreads you apart with no shame to suck your clit hard, sealing his lips around it with wet pulls while humming vibrations into your core, chin dripping with your juices as he laps every drop frantically, begging for more with his relentless pace when you grind against his face or straddle him fully.

Colt: Colt sits eagerly between your spread legs, strong hands parting you in half as his tongue plunges deep into you with powerful, swirling strokes before latching onto your clit for intense suction.

He devours you hungrily, hips thrusting in rhythm with his mouth as he works overtime, slurping your arousal while you mount his face reverse and jerk him off, his endurance building your climax through tireless, vigorous licks and thrusts while he bucks up into your hand and moans deeply into you.

Ryland: Ryland has already been down there for hours, tracing your pussy lips with analytical licks before probing your entrance and circling your clit in tight, calculated spirals.

He prods with fingers for deeper access, sucking your nub gently then harder while thrusting his tongue rhythmically inside against his fingers, adjusting angles for maximum sensitivity as you guide his head closer on the couch or bed.

Lars: Lars slides softly to his knees, caressing your thighs tenderly as his tongue laps at your pussy with feather-light kisses on your folds before delving inside with delicate swirls and precise flicks to your clit, he also normally is kissing every inch of bare skin he can.

He worships you with loving suction and shakey wanting licks, eyes gazing up vulnerably while you rock up into his face, his gentle exploration syncing with your rocks until emotional intimacy amplifies your orgasm.

Court: Court kneels with focus, your hand guiding him to thrust his tongue deep and hard into your pussy before flattening it for firm laps against your clit and aggressive sucks on your folds.

He channels raw exact knowing power into every move, gripping your ass briefly before submitting fully as you press his face deeper while standing or grinding, his forceful devouring building your climax through his pin point intensity.

Driver: Driver lowers himself while staring at you with intent between your legs, steadying your hips as his tongue parts your cunt with a single long lick up your slit before circling your clit in unhurried spirals and sucking softly.

He works methodically with restrained precision, thrusting upward when your thighs straddle his face prone, heavy breaths sharpening as his endurance heightens the slick laps until your orgasm floods his features.

[project-hail-ryland]

headed off to bed :p i got zero writing done, buttt i did get my masterlist/ nav page up!

so here are my late night horny ryland grace x reader thots (18+ smut incoming, fem!reader, p in v, the works) ((warning: unedited & i’m half asleep))

thinking about ryland pressing on your stomach while he’s fucking you.

“g-gosh, taking me so deep huh? feel good?”

he’s standing at the edge of the bed, you’re lying on your back on the mattress, one leg wrapped around his waist and the other propped up against his body, the heel of your foot resting on the front of his shoulder.

he’s watching the way your stomach bulges as he thrusts into you.

one of his hands comes to your hip now, the other splays over your torso, pressing lightly.

you can feel every inch and every ridge and vein of his cock as he slams into you. hard and deep, but not too fast. he’s taking his time.

one hand snakes down to rub at your clit, the other moves up to rest below the base of your neck.

“please,” you moan out.

“please what, baby?” he asks, “am i not giving you enough? so greedy.”

you can’t find the words to beg, so you place one of your hands over the one he’s placed below your neck and move it higher up on your throat.

he gets the hint and squeezes lightly, applying the perfect amount of pressure as his hips start to move faster.

he groans as he watches your mouth fall open, his name falling off your lips over and over again.

“s’good, ryland. you feel so good,” you mumble, starting to feel drunk on his cock.

he stops rubbing your clit just before you can finish.

“keep telling me how good it feels, honey. need you to tell me,” he rasps.

his eyes are half lidded, drooping behind his glasses, which are starting to slide down the slender bridge of his nose.

he squeezes your throat again after a moment of reprieve and feels you instantly clench around his cock.

“f-fuck! you feel so good, ryland. so good to me, wan- want to c-cum,” you whine, your hands moving to reach out for him.

both of his hands move to your waist and he pulls out quickly, letting your legs fall.

you want to cry.

“what—” you begin to ask.

but he beats you to it, he flips you over so you’re bent over the bed.

he lines himself up, letting out a shudder as he pushes back inside you.

you moan louder than ever before as he hits the perfect spot inside of you.

your head falls into the mattress, cheek pressing into it as you arch your back and take it.

ryland moves to grab your wrists with one hand, holding them behind your back as he fucks into you mercilessly.

“still good, baby?” he asks, blissed out.

“y-yea, so good,” you whimper into the mattress.

finally, he finds your clit again, rubbing circles as his hips start to stutter.

you know he can’t cum until you praise him again, but you make him work for it.

he works you closer and closer to your orgasm as he’s hanging on by a thread.

he releases your wrists, moving to give your ass a gentle slap with the hand that had them pinned down. he’s urging you to say what he needs to hear.

you cave in just before you cum.

“good boy, ryland. so good for me, you make me feel so good,” you praise, chasing your own high now.

he lets out a guttural moan, his breathing picks up, the sound of deep gasping breaths fills the room.

he’s whimpering your name now as he works carefully on your clit, trying his best to get you there before he taps out and finishes.

“baby,” he whines pathetically, finally dropping his dominant facade.

you smirk, cheek still buried in the mattress.

“cum for me, be a good boy,” you finally say, voice completely wrecked as your orgasm tears though you.

“oh, ohhhh,” he wails, finally breaking and filling you to the brim with his cum.

you feel him pulse inside of you as he finishes. his spend runs down the back of your legs. his body nearly short circuits as he watches it drip.

at last, he collapses forward onto you, enveloping you in his strong arms.

he presses a kiss to your temple before picking you up and cradling you in his arms and taking you to the bathroom to clean up.

he sits you gently on the counter and turns on the sink.

after you both freshen up, you brush your teeth together, giggling the whole time.

eventually you fall asleep with your head on his chest, completely content and completely fucked out.

——————————

writing smut is getting a little easier, but it is still so hard. im trying my best, you guys. thanks for reading :3

hoping to get to some requests soon!

[rerewrites]

“I might just need a hug”

When you get the handsome, blonde molecular biologist on board with you to cuddle you to sleep.

Paring: Ryland Grace x crewmate!reader

Wc: 5.1k

Content: Fluff, cuddles, hurt comfort (?) (Honesty, half way through writing this I realized I didn’t fully know what hurt and comfort actually was, so I tried), mentions of struggle with insomnia and exhaustion.

Note: I don’t know why it is this long :(, also this is unedited, it’s currently 2 am here, so I’ll come back in the morning to edit it.

Additional note: written form this request

“Okay, that's it for you today,” Ryland voiced, putting down the safety glasses that had hung around his neck after you guys had finished the previous experiment on the astrophage collected from the Petrova line of Tau Ceti, on the table. He straightened his back, causing you to follow suit from your slightly crouched position you had assumed previously to look over Grace’s shoulder at the results of the experiment on the console that sat on the table.

Ryland turned around, causing you to take a step back so that you wouldn’t be face against his toned chest. You saw him stand with one leg slightly protruded outwards, his weight slightly offset to the other one, his arm placed on his hips. He looked as if he was looking at one of his students that was giving him a hard time.

“What? What do you mean, we still have more tests to perform on the sample,” you stated, your voice coming out dryer than you had expected, pointing towards the clipboard that sat on the table and with your to-do list.

“I will finish them,” Ryland stated.

“And, I will hel-” you began, before getting cut off, a bit rudely in your opinion, by Ryland’s voice, his words making you raise an eyebrow at him in question.

“You're doing that again,” he commented, his arms moving to cross in front of his chest, from the position on his hips that they had assumed before.

“Doing what?”

“Playing with your hand, and pressing the back of your right one to try to alleviate the jittery pain you get when your lacking sleep and fighting back exhaustion," he replied with his very accurate analysis of your habits, his eyes scanning down to your hands, that were in the middle of the extract said motion.

As your brain registered his words, slightly delayed, because in fact you were truly exhausted, your movements halted mid movement, slowly sneaking your hands out of his sight, setting them behind your back.

“No-, no, no! That's not true, I am perfectly fine!” you exclaimed, your voice slightly cracking near the end, your lips pressing into a line out of embarrassment, as you looked everywhere but his eyes.

“I- I just hit my hand just a tiny bit too hard against one of the fixtures when I was doing maintenance checks in the EVA room,” you told him accompanied by the motion of your hands putting an emphasis on the ‘tiny’, coming up with the excuse on the spot, your voice rising in pitch as you relayed it to him.

You could already tell by the way he looked at you through a point above his glasses, that lower on his nose bridge, and the way his head tilted to the side, almost as telling you ‘really?’ that you knew he wasn’t buying what you were throwing at him. However, you had also made up your mind, and weren’t planning to back out now, out of whatever this was.

“It was an accident. I just was a little clumsy, probably cause I feel a little excited since we might have potentially found a way to save earth and Erid, you know,” you said, falling deeper into the web of your own lie, despite knowing that the web already had a big hole in the middle.

“Oh, I see. But you do seem to have these tiny accidents often in your excited clumsiness, and in the same area too…” he trailed off his words, pretending to be in thought about the peculiar situation you had described. Oh, he wasn’t cutting you any slack, why would he when is very stubborn and only human crew members refused to take the call of rest that their body required. Yes, that is what he told himself was the reason for why he was pressing on this matter so hard, and there definitely weren’t any personal feelings involved. Well, maybe there were, but he was ready to confront those just yet.

Ryland’s gaze softened as he took the time to look at you, while you were busy scanning the lab in an effort to find some way to escape from his conversation. He noticed the way the exhaustion was clear on your face, evident by the dark circles surrounding the rims of your under eyes, your eyelids a little puffy and red. He had noticed the way your eyes would squint when working on a task in order to fight the urge of your eyelids to close. The way you squeeze your thumb against your palm with your fingers to calm the little shakes of your hands. The way you would go to sleep later than him, but be already up before him, working on maintenance tasks around the ship as the engineer on board. He noticed it all.

When he had once gone to retrieve a pain killer from the medical kit, where he found the melatonin gummies half empty. He noticed how over weeks you had shifted to using more powerful sleep medication that was on board, but even that now was starting to lose effectiveness to allow you enough sleep to last through the next awake cycle.

He had once asked Rocky about it, to which he found his suspicions to be confirmed, when Rocky said your sleep patterns had been quite irregular compared to his own. And how the amount of time you slept for had continued to decrease. He mentioned you would often just end up leaving the room when you would find your frustration with your lack of ability to fall a laser increase, as the hours passed of you just laying on your bed, just with your thoughts and the ambience of the ship's environment. Just quietly roaming the ship, with your headphones on, so as to not disturb him during his sleep. Or more often than not, you would end up in the observation room, looking out into the void that was painted with streaks of stars.

Ryland had once asked you about it, asking if you were doing okay, and if you were sleeping, politely citing your prolonged grogginess he had noticed on some days. You just waved him off, making some random excuse that you came up with at the moment. He tried to ask you about it a few more times, he didn’t want to pry, but he also wanted to make sure you were okay, and that you knew he was here, if you needed someone to confide in.

“Honestly, I think I just might need a hug,” he recalls you stating, when he had asked you about it the third time amidst a casual conversation. He recalls the way your lips formed into a little pout, looking at him with awaiting eyes to see how he would react. Ready to jump into his arms he would let you, but also ready to play it off as a joke if you had sensed any signs of discomfort from his side. But he hugged you, he did feel a little shy at first, but he thought maybe it might actually help you, maybe that was what you needed – the touch and comfort of another human. And just maybe, that was what he was needing all along as well.

However, it did end up becoming the perfect excuse for you to use, because whenever he questioned you about your lack of sleep that was reflected in a shift in your routinely habits, or the way your body seemed to be falling into a deeper state of exhaustion, you would just ask him for a hug. Assuring him that was all you needed. Though he would never admit it, his selfish self was starting to look forward to those hugs as well, and at times of his own frustration wanting to walk up to you and ask for one himself.

Ryland still recalls the first time he, well at least the first time he met you on the ship. “Eye movement detected” he had the ship's automated voice ring through the ship. He recalls the excitement that had bubbled up inside of him. The only other human being had finally decided to break free of their slumber. Even though it was quite a bit after him, nevertheless he was just happy that you were awake and that he had someone by his side. He had left what he was doing in the lab, and literally sprinted, tumbling and all on the way to where you were in the ship.

By the time he made it inside the room, rubbing his head that he had bumped against the wall on his way, you were already crouched up against the wall, trying to stay away from the robotics arms that were trying to reach you. You looked up at him, squinting your eyes trying to get a clear image of him before your eyes, trying to adjust to the lights after being in a coma for so long, before you called his name. “Dr. Grace.”

It was clear that you remembered, a lot more than him. When he shared that his own memories weren’t as intact as yours, you seemed to have fallen silent, receding yourself into your own bubble. You didn’t talk to him much during those initial few days, and frankly he was a little disappointed, but he also understood that you need the time to adjust and make sense of the situation that you both were in. But when you finally emerged from your little bubble, your attitude and personality was contrasting to what he had observed and his very own.

You had the personality of what they would call bubbly. Very energetic and determined. You were always doing something around the ship, revising on all the manuals, taking the initiative to make sure the ship was working correctly at all times as the engineer, always motivating him when he himself would be feeling down, providing solutions and a ‘can do’ attitude to whatever came your way.

In all honesty, Ryland really enjoyed your company, always supporting him in whatever idea he came up with, but also sounding a voice of reason when he might be going down a slippery slope, and most of all playing into his own sense of humor. Often making him wonder about your dynamic back on earth. You frankly didn’t share much with him, because you were worried that it would put unnecessary strain on his brain if you shared all with him at once, at least that's what you told him was the reason. So instead, whenever he would recall some of his memories, he would share it with you, and you would provide insight here and there, where you thought it was necessary. He did find it quite frustrating at times, leading to an argument between you both at one point, but he eventually understood that you had your own reason for not being fully open with him.

He also found himself pondering on the thought about how you were always so enthusiastic on the thought of saving earth whenever you guys would get closer to the goals. He had once asked you the question about what if they didn’t succeed in the goal that they were sent here for, but you just said you there would be nothing but success. He attributed your response to your derminted nature. He had also attributed your indifference to the part where this was a suicide mission as part of your nature. But he realizes now that he had been wrong, that maybe your energetic and almost playful persona might have been your way to cope with the situation you had found yourself to be in. You were struggling. Struggling in your own way, struggling with your own stresses, anxiety and thoughts, that was manifesting through insomnia.

Where he was struggling with thoughts not knowing, you were struggling with the thoughts of knowing too much.

“You know what Dr. Grace, I just think I need a hug,” he heard, your voice breaking him out of his train of thought. He forced on you again, seeing your lips forming a pout, your eyes shining like that of a pleading puppy, arms extended outwards. You started to step towards him, expecting this interaction to follow the routine procedure, but you halted as soon as you saw the soft shake of his head.

“Nope, not working this time,” he declared, determined to not fall for it this time, fighting the urge to hold you in his arms using the hug you were requesting as an excuse.

Ryland called out your name, very gentle and soft, the way you would call out to a kid you're trying to coo a child after it got refused its favourite treat. Your pout now turned into a small frown, almost feeling a little uneasy, because you knew that if he started to act like this, you won’t be able to fight back.

“Whattt,” you groaned.

“I swear I did sleep. In fact, I slept like a baby, right Rocky?” you call out, turning to the Eridian that sat in his little bubble enclosure, working on the chain needed to fish samples from the exoplanet in Tau Ceti’s orbit. You give him a small wink of the eyes, like he could see it and would understand what it meant. Honestly, you were just hoping to find some way out of this conversation with Grace.

“Rocky don’t know how human baby sleep,” Rocky stated, earning him a little snicker from Grace, causing you to look back at him with a glare, before turning back to Rocky as he began to speak again.

“(Last Name), move move move, only sleep for 7728 seconds of the 28800”

You let out a long exasperated groan, “Rock, we talked about this.” You had asked him to keep you sleeping pattern he observed when watching over you and Ryland sleep, but you knew that clearly hadn’t listened to you.

“Grumpy. Angry. Lack of sleep affecting (last name),”

You threw your hands, giving up the conversation and using rocky as a means to escape, mumbling a ‘nevermind’. You took a deep breath, before turning to look at Ryland again, seeing him leaning against the lab table, hand at his side, a light hold on the edge of the surface.

“Dr. Grace, I am perfectly fine, I swear, and you know what will make me feel even better? If you let me help you with the experiments, so shall we continue,” you said walking over to the side, where you had been, going to grab at the control of the console.

But before you could, Ryland slid his body to the side, right in time to block your access. Maybe it was a bit of a miscalculation on his end, because now you were right in front of him, barely an inch between your bodies. You looked up at him with an intensity behind your eyes, your brows furrowed in frustration, as you crossed your arms in front of your body, your forearms now pushing against his hard and toned torso. Clearly signaling to him that you weren’t going to listen to him, so he better back off.

“(Last name) look mad, mad mad mad, Grace in trouble, question?”

Grace swallowed the dryness away from his throat, for a moment he was going to back off, and let you have this win, and try to talk to you about this again, later, but seeing from this close, the tiredness was even more evident, so he couldn’t let this go now.

“You do really need to sleep, you can’t keep going on like,” he says, very softly, and pleading to you with his eyes, just for your sake. Maybe you were a little angry, or maybe the lack of sleep was truly starting to fuck with you brain, beacuse the softenness in his voice didn’t seem to reach your ears, instead you pushed further.

“Stop going all teacher mode on me, Mr. Grace” you voiced though gritted teeth.

“Then stop acting as a stubborn middle schooler,” he shot back, his voice raising a little.

At that, you finally decided to back off and just listen cause you didn’t want to be a nuance when everyone was just looking out for you. You sighed, mumbling a little ‘sorry’, taking a step back, and in that motion Grace decided to take the initiative to turn you around, his hands pressed against your back, gently pushing you towards the door.

“Dr. Grace,” you whined, but let him push you towards the door, without much physical resistance, cause maybe the exhaustion was starting to catch up with your body now as well.

“Ryland!”

“Ry-Ry!”

“Rocky!” You called out to the alien who had continued to watch this whole fiasco from his enclosure, your elevated voice caused the alien to get up from his spot in a worry, thinking you and grace were seriously fighting. “Rocky, help, I'm being kidnapped,” you called. You think your brain is seriously starting to become mush from the lack of sleep.

“What is kid-nap, question?” the computerized voice rang through the lab, rocky skittering in place, unsure what to do.

“Rocky, don’t worry, I am just going to put (your name) to sleep, I will be back in 10 minutes,” Ryland called out, closing the lab door behind him, as your bodies exited the space. At this point, you had fully given up, now walking yourself to the sleeping quarters, Ryland trailing behind you.

You propped yourself up on the narrower side of the bed, letting yourself fall to the soft bedding, your back hitting the surface with light plop sound, resting your forearm on top of your eyes shielding them from the artificial light of the space, letting your eyes close.

It was quiet. And for you that was suffocating, because that was what had been playing a part in your struggles with sleep. The near silence felt as the darkness of the void that surrounded you had broken through some creak in the ship, surrounding you in endless, only with the never ending pit of your thoughts that brought up unwanted emotions. You wanted to sleep, you were extremely tired, tired from all the thoughts that played into your minds, thoughts from your life on earth, all the achievements and regrets, the moments of happiness and sadness, thoughts of all the people you love, and even the ones not so much, refusing to let your brain be quiet.

And you felt so stupid, this stuff didn’t matter anymore, you had to save not just earth now, but also Erid, you didn’t have the time to delve into these useless thoughts. These thoughts surrounded kept your brain occupied, stripping you of the privilege of a proper sleep. And this lack of sleep was truly getting in the way of things now. You have been doing extra tasks around the ships, just occupying yourself with whatever you can in order to tire yourself out so that your brain would listen to the pleas of its body and let it rest, all while preparing to go fishing. You will be piloting the spacecraft when on the mission to receive the samples of life from the planet’s atmosphere, and you are afraid that your body's exhaustion will cost you, at a time you can not afford to make any mistakes, because so much depends on it. The lives of those on Erid, Earth, and even the lives of those now most dear to you, Rocky and … Ryland.

Ryland’s sweet voice, laced with evident concern for your well being, broke through the darkness that was starting to consume you once more. It was a call of your name, helping pull you out of your own void, forcing you to open your eyes. You just laid there for a moment, taking a few deep breaths, trying to regulate your breathing that had started to become staggering without you even realizing.

You could hear the sounds of Ryland’s breathing, feel the warmth radiating from his body against your legs. He was standing much closer now, just a few steps back from the bed. You forced yourself to get up, your legs dangling off the bed, as you looked up to meet Ryland’s eyes, which expressed everything he wanted to say through his words. None of you spoke for a few moments, letting the silence fall lingered in between the space. A silence that was usually daunting to you, wasn’t as much so today, because right now, there was a comforting pair of blue eyes present to look after you (or maybe ‘over you’ instead of ‘after you’).

“Is everything okay?”

He was the first to break the spell of silence. His voice was gentle, as if honey to the ears, but also cautious as to not cross any boundary that you might not allow him past. He watched as a frown appeared to set on your features, making him feel a little panicked.

“No, no- I,” Ryland pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath to collect himself.

“Hey, I know you have been struggling with falling a sleep, something has been bothering you deep down, and I understand you are might not want to share it with me, but,” he pauses, seeing the tearings starting roll over the bay of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as they fall to your lap, as the corners of your mouth twitch a little, as you fight the urge to break out into a proper sob. It aches his heart to see you like this, but he continues, stepping a little closer, his thighs slightly brushing against your knees, bending a little to be eye level with you, putting his hands on his knees before continuing.

“I’m here. I’m here for you, whatever you might need, or even if you want someone to talk to, I am here,” he finished, giving you a soft smile. At this point you were already sobbing, his words, his smile and his warm eyes were just so comforting that you just couldn’t help but cry.

Ryland stepped even closer, his arm reaching out to you, pulling your head to rest against his torso, rubbing one hand on your head in a soothing motion, while holding on to your hand that now gripped his shirt in effort to ground yourself. You wanted to let yourself get lost in his warmth and comfort he was providing you, but the guilt stopped from letting yourself fully indulge. The guilt of knowing what happened to him on Earth. The guilt of knowing that he was likely sent on this mission against his will. The guilt that you knew, but didn’t have it in you to tell him the truth. Would he still comfort you like this if he knew? If he knew what you had kept from him? You weren’t fully sure.

He called out to you again, his voice breaking through the clouded thoughts. You didn’t reply to him, but he knew you were listening by the way your grip on his shirt tightened. “I know how much this all means to you, this whole mission. And I know you have been working extra hard these past couple of days, pushing yourself over your limit,” he acknowledged, continuing to rub soothingly on your head, while his other hand squeezed yours more tightly. “But, I need you to rest, sleep when your body allows you to. Yea?”

You shook your head to let him know that you understood what he was trying to say, snuggling a little closer into his chest, your both arms warping around your waist, because we weren't ready to let go, just yet. He waited for you to fully calm down, letting you embrace him to seek your own comfort, which he found his happiness in.

Once your crying had finally stopped, the dry tears staining your cheeks, feeling calmed down enough you pulled away from Ryland. However, you refused to look him in the eyes, just looking your hands in your palms instead, because you were feeling a little embarrassed for this whole situation and for making a mess of his shirt with your tears.

“Sorry, I made a mess of your shirt, you can give it to me and I'll clean it for you,” you said, apologizing for what you had done. He shook his head, which you couldn’t fully see because you still refused to look at him. “Are you feeling better now?” he questioned, to which you replied with a small yes.

“Well, that's good. Then you make a mess of my shirt whenever you like if it helps you calm down,” he assured, but wait that didn't sound right, it came out way worse than he had meant it to. Oh, he needed to quickly clarify what he had meant, as his brain was thinking of the right way to rectify, your laugh made its way to your eyes, and that instantly made his brian to stop working for a moment. It had been a while since he had last heard you laugh, hearing it now instantly made a smile to appear on his lips.

“Okay, get some now,” he said, ruffling your hair a little in an affectionate manner. As he was about to turn around to leave the space, you grabbed his wrist, making him halt mid movement. He turned to you to see that you were finally looking at him again, eyes still a little glossy from your little cry session earlier.

“Can’t you sleep with me?”

His body froze. Okay, maybe his own state of exhaustion was starting to catch up to him as well cause he was starting to hear things now. But the expression that he saw your face, matching his with your wide eyes and arched brows, confirmed that he in fact heard you correctly. A shade of red crept up his face, a very loud visual of his fluster state.

You instantly let go of his wrist, when your own brain processed what had come out of your mouth. You were starting to think that your brain had become soup at this point from the lack of sleep, and left your body with the flow of your tears. What the fudge did just say to him!

“Wait, Wait! That's not what I meant,” you started frantically shaking your hand in front of you. “What I meant to ask was, if you would keep me company,” you tried to clarify, regretting even thinking of asking in the first place.

“Um-”

“I’m so sorry, please just forget what I said,” you requested, the embarrassment wanting to eject yourself out of the air lock. You erratically shifted to pull your legs onto the bed, laying yourself down, and fully hiding yourself under your blanket, trying to avoid Ryland’s eyes. “I’ll try to get some sleep, now” you exclaimed from under the piece of fabric you had hid your under.

You heard nothing in response, not even the sound of him leaving the room. He was still there, unbeknownst to you that he was fighting his inner self on what to do, because the selfish side of him wanted to jump to your side and embrace you in his arms, but the rational side of thought the best option would be for him to leave and let you rest.

It was perfectly still for a moment before you heard the shuffling of Ryland's feet, which seemed to be moving closer rather than heading for the door, before they came to a standstill as you felt his presence near the bed. You peek your head out of the blanket to see him standing near the beside.

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay?” You ask, a little confused.

“i’ll keep you company, until you fall asleep. I mean, I need a little break as well anyway?” he replied, finding a reason to say, a lazy smile to tug at his lips, causing a little grin to break onto your lips, as you adjusted to give him space on this already small twin bed.

Ryland found himself laying next to you, his arms folded under his head, to put as much physical space between your bodies as possible, to be courteous of your personal space and again, to not cross any boundaries you may not want him crossing. He looked at the ceiling, as did you, only the sounds of your breathing intermingling, the buzzing of the Hail Mary filling the space between you.

Ryland felt you turn to your side, facing him, feeling your gaze on him, as you just admired his beautiful side profile for a few moments. He felt your arm drape around his torso, causing his body to go stiff. You waited. Waited for him to push your hand away, but he didn’t. Instead, he unfolded one of his arms, and laid it out straight in the space on the bed, right above where your head. And you took this as an invitation to shift closer, to bury yourself to the side of his toned body, resting your head on his bicep.

You could feel his heartbeat, drumming through your ear. It was a little elevated at first, due to your sudden proximity, but as you both settled in, finding comfort in each other's warmth, your heart beats started to slow, your breathing finding common a rhythm as the spell of sleep started to wash over.

“Ry” you called out to him in a gentle whisper, as to not wake him up had he already fallen under the spell, looking up at him. You heard a little ‘hmm’ from him, as his droopy eyes looked down at you, a sleepy smile resting on his lips.

“Thank you”

He just gave you a loving smile in response to your words, before he whispered a ‘go to sleep’, shifting his eyes back to look at the metal ceiling. At that, you snuggled yourself closer, if that was even even possible, before finally closing your eyes. It was quiet, but it wasn’t so suffocating when you were in his arms, by his side. Your brain at last let itself just off, allowing your body the much needed sleep. But that wasn’t before you felt Grace’s hand gently playing with your hair, helping your body lull itself to sleep. .

At some point, your body awoke for a few moments, and you realized that Grace had joined you in much needed slumber. His hand that was under his head, now wrapped around you causing you to smile against his chest before your body fell back to sleep.

Note: Again, I don’t know what this is, but I hope it at least brought a smile to your face!

.

[flower-writer]

fem!reader cockwarming soft dom!Ryland while he works on lesson plans over the weekend

type short

paring ryland grace x reader

warning smut

A/N sorry this is literally so ass, i’m so ill atm and got a really bad headache so finding it difficult to focus ☹️ when i feel better I’ll reread this and edit any mistakes! please send more requests through!

One thing you’ve learnt quickly while dating Ryland is that 99% of his personal life ends up being his professional life too. In the morning, he wakes up early to go over his lesson plan and make sure he’s got all the paper needed and his laptop, and then after work he comes home and marks homework and papers his class completed that day, and then after dinner, before bed, he plans his lessons for the next day. You understand being a teacher comes with a lot of responsibilities and unpaid time but what you wasn’t expecting was it to take up his weekends too. More so than recently. It’s fine you keep telling yourself, it’s exam week for his students, in a weeks time you’ll have him back to yourself. But would you? Ryland takes pride in being the sole provider in your relationship but living off a teachers salary for two isn’t feasible, so you took a part time job working in a cafe a few minutes walk for your apartment. But that meant you spent most of your times alone, days when you weren’t working all you could do was sit at home and read or watch TV, and days you did work? By the time you woke up, Ryland was already gone and possibly teaching his first period, and then you went to work where at least you had befriended a few of your coworkers, and then after your short walk home you had more time alone before Ryland came home. Nothing really changed when he was at home though, straight away he was getting back to working and grading and planning leaving you to be all alone. If you were lucky, after dinner you two would watch a film together. But this was pretty much non existent the last week. You tried to tell yourself you didn’t care but you did. It was getting increasingly difficult to spend time alone when your boyfriend was right there. Even more you missed his touch. You missed waking up on a Saturday with his arms wrapped around your middle, missed being able to stay up late tangled with each other, exploring each others bodies on Fridays and Saturdays, without him having to worry about being too tired to do work in the morning. You missed his presence despite him still being in the same house as you.

Tonight was particularly difficult, you had to cancel the dinner plans you made for the two of you. You booked a fancy restaurant that typically neither of you could afford but you picked up extra shifts at the cafe to be able to pay for the two of you, hoping it would take some of his stress away and you could have your man back. But your plan fell through just as you were finishing off your hair. As you were twisting your curls on your fingers making sure they all went the same way, Ryland walked in with head down and rubbing his neck sheepishly.

“Hey baby, you look so gorgeous” he sat down on your bed next to you rubbing circles on your back with his thumb. You were wearing a dark red a line dress with a pair of silky black tights and black kitten heals, you had done a smokey eye look and a hollywood blowout for your hair. You looked insatiable.

“Thank you Ry,” you turned your head and kissed him on the cheek leaving a slight lip gloss stain.

“Yeah it’s a shame…” he started to hedge his confession.

“What do you mean?” you were started to become skeptical, you should’ve realised something was up the minute he walked in like a puppy who’s done something wrong.

“I’m really sorry sweetheart but I can’t do tonight, i was looking at my schedule for next week and I’m way behind on marking, I planned it all wrong. I’m really sorry, trust me i really wanted to go but y’know how busy this week has been for me. It will be all over soon and then how about we reschedule tonight for next week?” He apologised profusely.

Disappointed hit you like a stab to your heart but you couldn’t let it show. And it’s not really his fault it has really been a difficult busy time for him and he’s right next week will be different. Hopefully.

“Yeah that’s fine, I understand. We can order food in”

“Thank you for being so understanding. I do really feel so bad. I mean look at you, you look so hot,” his voice had a slight gravely tone to it, one you were too familiar with, the voice you miss. He leaned in to kiss you passionately but still being his gentle self. After a few seconds he pulled away, “right gotta get back to marking. I love you,” his voice softer now, with a tint of disappointment.

“I love you more” you said giving him one last kiss on the lips.

When he left you began to get unready, taking your dress and heals off but you weren’t letting this look go completely to waste. You left your hair and makeup as it was and slipped into a pair of your tiny sleeping shorts, that rode up a little to high that really you should’ve binned a while ago, and one of his corny science jokes t-shirt. The outfit seemed casual but you calculated the whole thing. Ryland found it extremely hot when you wore his clothes, he loved the way his t-shirts hung off you loosely which on him hugged each of his muscles tightly, and the way they were long enough they just about covered your ass. But as soon as you would reach for anything or even just walked around he would be able to see what’s underneath.

You walked backed into the open living area where near the sofa, Ryland sat seemingly too focused on whatever paper he was grading, but he did not miss your outfit. But after his eyes followed you to the sofa he dove back into his work. You put on your favourite tv show and settled comfortably into the sofa with a low groan. His ears perked at the noise but once again all his attention was back on the stack of papers in front of him. For the next hour or so, you kept doing these little moves that you hoped would get Ryland to break. You shifted around pretending to get comfortable, knowing that if Ryland looked your way he would get a little peak of your booty shorts and what they don’t cover. You walked over and made yourself a hot chocolate, yours well his t-shirt riding up as you grabbed a mug and sighing almost sensually once you’d sat back down and taken a sip of your drink.

You were started to get frustrated as all your attempts failed, although it you found it kind of hot how focused he was when working. You found his nerdiness endearing most of the time, but some times it turned you on, like when he explained something to you so passionately, and especially when you could see his biceps flex every time he flicked a page or reached for a new paper to start marking. You weren’t pretending anymore when you began to start shifting in your seat, the familiar throb and hear starting to become unbearable.

After a few minutes of staring at him, your show completely forgotten about, you walked over to the concentrated man. You stood behind him, your hands on his shoulders gently massaging him, “how you doing baby?” you asked softly but dangerously.

“Good. Nearly done,” he answered simply, still unaware of your advances.

You moved to stand next to him and moved his arms from their rested position on the table, removing the barrier between you and his body. He complied and you slotted perfectly on his lap.

“Woah what you doing there?” He put his pen down.

“I miss you so much Ry, just want to be near you. Please?” You said, your voice going higher and more seductive. You decided to be more forward and began kissing his neck.

“Baby, i’ve got to do a few more papers and then my time is all yours,” he sighed, one because he was upset knowing that you were this desperate because he let work take over his time and two from the delicious sensation you were delivering to him.

You began grinding your hips gently against his crotch, “Please, i’ll behave, will be like i’m not even here, i’ll stay so still i promise!” you pleaded.

He chuckled, “That will be pretty hard when you’re doing all of this,” he joked, “but fine you can stay,” he gave in.

You stopped the movement of your hips for a few minutes and rested your head in the crook of his neck, taking in this sacred moment. But you began to feel Ryland hardening up underneath you and he coughed as if that would hide the fact he was hard at just the feeling of your skin touching his.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, clearly embarrassed by his body reacting without his permission.

“Don’t be. I’ll take care of you,” you began travelling your hands down toward the band of his tracksuit bottoms and underwear, but he grabbed your hands before you could go any further.

“No it’s fine, i’ll be done soon.”

“Exactly so let’s just sit here together,” he let go of your hands and you took his dick out of his boxers.

“Wha- uh, what do you mean?” he questioned, flustered.

You didn’t respond, you just shifted your flimsy short material to the side along with your panties and sunk down onto his solid length. You both sighed loudly at the feeling that you haven’t experienced for a while now.

You both sat still for a few seconds until his bucked his hips up but you stopped him from moving further by placing your firm hands on his shoulders.

“No, no moving. I’m keeping my promise. No moving and once you’re done with work then you can move,” you laced your fingers through his hair tugging slightly while kissing at his neck.

“God you’re killing me baby,” he grumbled, resisting every urge in his body to rut up into you like his life depended on it.

And kept your promise indeed you did. Even when Ryland squeezed your hip with the hand he wasn’t writing with you didn’t give in. Or when he groaned out of frustration and pleasure. Well kinda. After a few minutes of you two sitting there you began to rewards him, every now and again you would pretend to adjust how you were sitting to get comfortable but really you wanted to get a rise out of him. Each time he was huff air out of his nose, and shake his head like he knew your real intentions.

“What’s wrong Dr Grace, a pupils question got you stumped?” You asked with faux confusion, knowing that nickname really gets him going when he hears it from your mouth only.

He laughed breathlessly at your audacity, “you think you’re so funny huh?” His question punctuated with a deep quick thrust of his hips. You moaned loudly, your body folding into his, he brung his hand which a second ago nursed a pen onto your lower back, “hm?” he bucked again.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! You were supposed to be in control, but on the plus side you finally had him. You gained your composure, sitting up straight again.

“ I thought i said no moving?” You were the one asking questions this time.

“Nuh uh. You said you wouldn’t move. Didn’t say anything about me not moving, sweetheart,” he said condescendingly, guiding your hips in slow movements back and fourth. Fuck why is he so smart?

“You don’t seem so focused on your papers now.”

“Hmmhm. Bet that was your little plan all along. Don’t pretend like you didn’t put this little outfit on not knowing it would make me so incredibly horny from the second you came into this room. I realised your little plan the second i caught sight of you wearing my top. I guess it worked,” he continued rocking you, occasionally lifting his own hips causing you to whimper pathetically, “you know you’ve made me stop caring about cancelling our date a bit now im inside you? But i knew if i carried in ignoring you, you would fold and come crawling into my lap, but i didn’t think you would do it literally. But you win, or i do? I don’t care now that i’ve got you right here,” He said between kisses.

This is ridiculous! How has he flipped your entire plan and had the ball in his court the entire time without you knowing.

“Just missed you so much Ry, i feel like you’ve forgotten about me this week,” you confessed

All his movement stopped and you could see sadness taking over his eyes, his eyes making direct contact with yours and his eyebrows furrowed. He gently cupped your face, his hand engulfing yours cheek, “Oh sweetheart, you should’ve said, i’m so sorry, i never want you to feel like i’ve forgotten about you,” he said sincerely.

You nodded gently.

He tone shifted to something darker, “but now i’ve got you here let’s carry this on, huh?”

You were lost for words so again you nodded.

He stood up effortlessly, carrying you towards your bedroom with your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, “that’s my good girl,” he tapped the side of your thigh gently.

That night you and Ryland had the best sex you’ve had yet. He spent what felt like hours with teaching touched and kisses against your inner thigh before devouring your cunt like a rabid animal. You fucked with you on top, him on top, spooning, on the bathroom counter, the kitchen counter, the table where he was working hours before and even during the movie you two picked to unwind the night with.

You saw many sides to Ryland that night and learnt a lot about him sexually. But most importantly you learnt that whatever happens in the two of your lives, neither one of you would be alone.

[tootstoots]

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⠀

FAVORITE SCIENTIST // R.G.⠀───⠀making grace's heart race in two ways without you even knowing. or maybe you actually know.

W.COUNT : 301.

NOTES FROM THE WRITER : FELL IN LOVE WITH THIS NERD. he captured my heart. this is just a blurb, as i'm writing something more elaborate for him. i hope hope hope you like it. likes and reblogs are a writer's best friends, so pls do that. NO PRONOUNS USED.

⠀𖹭

⠀two hands suddenly landed on grace's shoulders, causing him to jump instantly from his chair and almost drop his pen; he would have thought that if he had dropped it, he would have thrown it to another corner of the room they were both in and probably ruined it. "oh-holymolyyouneverdothatagain!" he pleaded as soon as he turned his face to you, placing the back of the pen on your forehead followed by a long, spacious sigh to calm his poor heart.

⠀letting your hands remain on his shoulders, you gave it a few brief squeezes while letting out a small giggle, almost as if you were happy and satisfied by the fright you had given him. "well hello to you too, my favorite scientist," you said, still with a few calmer giggles escaping between the words that came out of your mouth.

⠀a sudden warmth spread through his body, and he hoped you couldn't hear how hard his heart was beating again. it wasn't from the fright anymore, but from how good it felt to hear your giggles and the sound of your voice calling him your favorite scientist. it caught him every time you said it. he never got used to it, probably never will.

⠀"hmm...am i genuinely your favorite scientist, or is it just because we're the only living humans on this ship?" he raised an eyebrow, briefly narrowing his eyes as if you were a suspect in a mysterious crime.

⠀and in return he received a dramatic gasp along with a slight shove. "how dare you say such thing!"

⠀he's happy to have you here because taking this trip alone would probably drive him nuts. every day he would wake up just to hear you say he was your favorite scientist.

⠀

:p