Been thinking about piercing my nipples for the longest time and I had like pushed it to the back of my head for the time being… But now all this ryland and nipple piercings talk has got me sitting over here fighting demons not to just show up at the studio and do it on a whim 😩
ryland grace looking up at you while he sucks on your nipple piercings. you're sitting in his lap, straddling him, and his tongue is playing with the metal and he has one hand on your hip and the other on your chest, and and and—
summary: Ryland comes crying to you (literally) after being shunned from academia
w.c: 1.3k
tags: sub!ryland if you squint, dry humping, Ryland loves readers chest 🙂↕️
notes: based on this lovely request! Would also love it if any of you leave replies if you enjoyed this <3
You were sitting on the couch in your cami set, waiting for him to come back home just like any other day. Mindlessly surfing through the channels on TV, you suddenly heard keys dangling on the other side of your front door.
“Babe?” You called out as the door opened. Ryland walked in, shoulders slumped and head lowered to the ground. He closed the door and threw his bag on the floor before making his way to the couch with you.
“Everything okay? I thought you’re not gonna be home by 10.” You were genuinely worried. Ryland took his glasses off and tossed them on the couch as he practically threw himself at you, his arms quickly wrapping themselves around you and his face was buried in your chest as his legs were sprawled on the empty space of the couch.
You brought your hands to hug him back, one gently playing with his hair. “Ryland, you’re scaring me. Talk to me.”
He began sniffling, “in nom evem ai olt!” He mumbled as his voice was muffled by your clothes.
“Honey, I can’t understand you.”
He slightly pulled away to look up at you. His nose was rosy and his eyes were glossy and filled with tears while his eyebrows were pinched. “It’s not even my fault!” He whined.
You tried to ignore how beautiful he looked when he was like this, this might not be the best time to bring it up. “What’s not your fault?”
“The fucking… she was an idiot! She has no idea what she’s talking about! It’s like she didn’t even read my paper and now I’m the bad guy-“
“Wait, Ryland, what are you talking about?”
He sighed, “Dr. Lokken at the conference in Denmark a week ago, the one where…” he trailed off.
“The one where you called her a waste of carbon?”
Ryland shoved his face in your chest in embarrassment and hummed in agreement.
You chuckled, “Babe, you shouldn’t let her bother you so much. You’re a genius and I’m sure if she doesn’t understand your paper, then that’s-“
“It’s not that, I…” he turned his head so you could hear him clearly. “I’m done,” his eyes began welling up again. “No universities will ever work with me, no papers of mine will ever be published, my own peers cut ties with me completely,” his voice broke at the end.
This was worse than you thought. You remembered thinking his reaction was a bit intense when he texted you about how the conference went while he was abroad, but it seemed like he took a serious blow.
“I’m such an idiot, I should’ve never said anything!” He sobbed onto your top, staining it with his tears. “You’re dating a loser who c-can’t keep his mouth shut.” His arms tightened around you, desperate for support.
“Hey, woah, Ryland. You’re not a loser-“
“I am!” He cut you off, “I wrote a paper nobody takes seriously and now I’m… crying like a baby…”
You brought a hand under his chin and lifted his head. You had to remind yourself once again that this isn’t the time but goddamn was he gorgeous like this. He had the most pathetic expression you’ve ever seen and his eyelashes were soaked with tears. His bottom lip quivered slightly and you had to take a deep breath so you could focus on saying the right things.
“Ryland, You’re not a loser or a crybaby, I’m sure no one thinks that.” You rubbed your thumb over his chin. “And even if they do, who cares? Your paper is just as important as any other paper that’s out there.”
“But…” Ryland thought for a moment as his eyes darted between yours. “Do you think I’m a loser?”
You furrowed your eyebrows, was this what it was all about? Your opinion is more important to him than the ones of his peers?
“Honey, of course not,” you smiled. You thought it was ridiculous of him to even think that you’d ever see him that way.
“Or a crybaby?” He added.
“No!” You giggled, making the corners of his mouth raise. “You're allowed to cry from time to time, y’know? And besides, I think it’s hot.”
His face turned serious as the gears in his mind started turning. His eyes lowered to look at your lips and lingered there for a little too long, enough time for you to notice.
“What are you thinking about, Ryland?” You asked with a smirk.
Ryland suddenly blushed, overly aware of how you're perceiving him when he’s at this state. He didn’t answer, his brain wasn’t really functioning at this point, he only looked around at your collarbones and tried to avoid staring at your breasts.
“What is my brilliant Dr. Ryland Grace thinking about, hm?” You used his title slightly ironically, but by the way Ryland buried his face in your chest again with a hum you could tell he enjoys it. You wondered if he was already hard so early on.
“You like it there?” You joked and kept playing with his hair. Ryland began moving his hips against the cushions as he quietly whimpered, he didn’t want to think anymore.
“Sit up straight, let me help you out,” you cooed and Ryland pulled back to sit properly.
You got on top of him and slipped your top’s straps over your shoulders, exposing your breasts. You felt him twitch in his pants, he was clearly turned on but waited for your permission to do anything just in case as usual.
He gave you his best puppy eyes, silently begging to move, kiss, suck, whatever you’ll allow.
You chuckled, “well I didn’t show them to you for nothing.”
Ryland couldn’t even laugh at this point from his horny he was, he was just thankful you gave him the green light. He quickly latched onto one of your nipples and gripped your waist as he rolled his hips into you.
“You know how much I love you, right?” You started to grind against him, making him whimper. He nodded before crashing his tongue with your other nipple. “You'll never be a loser in my eyes.”
“I’m good?,” he moaned.
“So good,” you brought your hands back to his hair, gently pulling it and earning high pitched whines as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.
“God- don’t stop, please,” he begged. You got excited from the idea of him cumming in his pants, you wanted to see him actually do it.
“Already so close, baby?” You asked, Ryland replying with a pathetic moan. “My big, smart, scientist is gonna cum in his pants?”
“Yes! G-gonna cum so hard for you,” tears found their way again to his eyes. “So close, please.”
“Do it, cum for me.”
Ryland’s hips stuttered as he climaxed. You kept grinding on him through your clothes to help him ride his high.
“Thank youuu, oh my goddd,” he whined, his hands trying to touch you all over as much as he could.
You kissed his forehead as he opened his eyes when he was finally brought back to his senses. “You okay?”
He nodded, looking into your eyes in silence. He lowered his head and brought you closer for a hug. It was tender and innocent, you could feel that Ryland really needed the support now.
“You’re gonna figure it out, I promise,” you said.
“Thank you,” he said, giving you a gentle squeeze before pulling back. “Not sure what the hell I can do with my PhD now apart from being a professor… but there’s no way anyone would accept me.”
“What about a school? How are you with kids?” You smiled and softly slapped his chest, “I’m kidding.”
thinking about ryland's voice cracking when he's close, and he tries to hide it by kissing you or burying his face in your neck, but that just means you can feel it in addition to hearing it, and if you lock your ankles around his waist he'll keep on rutting into you after he's done, little rhythmic whimpers escaping him from the overstimulation, and—
"does it feel good?", your voice tickled his ear. It did. It felt so good. So warm, tight and fudging awesome— you could feel his lips parting from underneath of your hand. His breath hitting your already slicked palm.
Hips left the bed as it pushed into your fist. Fist that was wrapped around his cock like a soft caress. Dragging perfectly as it moved up and down, up and down, up and—
"mhphh—", his eyes closed. Head tilting back. Resting against your shoulder, your hand pressing against his open mouth as he whimpered. "It does, doesn't it?", you could feel his hair moving everytime he writhed against you. Dragging against your cheek or your neck. It made you wanna tease him further.
"come on, Ry", you cooed. The hand on his mouth slipping down slightly to cup his jaw. Surrounding area of his mouth slick with his own spit. Breathless sounds escape as soon as your hand moves.
"it's rude not to answer", you smiled. A devilish one. Lord, you'll be the death of him. His hips writhe against the sheets as he chases that high. That's now building in his stomach, pushing down and down till it's settled deep in his core. Making his heels press deep against the mattress, creasing the sheets further.
He was so close, so perfectly close. Every swipe of your thumb over his cock head, or a pressured drag over the vein that was dragging down his to his abdomen before you drag it up again and squeeze at the end before quickening the pace.
"please, please, plea—", your hand was over his mouth again. Muffled and spit pooled words hit your palm. Ragged breathes followed. His hands finally letting go off the sheets. His fingers hurting slightly from how hard he held onto them.
Hand finding purchase on your thighs. Holding, pressing, digging his nails into. Trying to find some sort of stability so he can keep enjoying this. Enjoying you.
"omph myh lorph—", his eyes closed. Brows creasing perfectly. His glasses already sloped down when he threw his head back. Now resting on the middle of his face. His ragged breathe from his nose hitting the lenses. It seemed uncomfortable but he didn't seem to care.
His hold on your skin felt harder when you felt his cock twitch in your hand. "So good, Ry. Come on, so good", you purred. Head tilted, pressing closer to him. Lips brushing against his ear as you spoke. Making the moment more silent.. more intimate.
"ouh—", he was gone.
It was slow. Dribbling down as he cummed. Thick loads coming out and out and out. Until it coated your hand. You smiled, pumping. Trying to help him ride it out. His back and legs stiff with occasion spasms. A deep groan leaving his throat. Gurgled.
Some cum shooting out after you squeezed the base of his cock. Making you surprised and let out a chuckle. Which made him shiver. You released your hand from him mouth. Dragging it up, pushing his hair out of his face. Taking the glasses off as you place it on the bed.
His eyes fluttered open before blinking up at you, "hi", you whispered. Leaning down to place a kiss on the tip of his nose. Before dragging your lips to his cheeks, the corner of his eye, jaw before breathing him in. The silence wasn't awkward. It was charged. With intimacy.
"fuc— fudge— fudge, fudge, fudge—", he breathed. His hand besides your head now clawing the sheets so hard, you are certain you heard a pop. His breathe is uneven, hitting your shoulder. His other forearms just laying flat against the mattress, some of your hair underneath but you don't complain about it.
"are you alright?", you breathed. It was apparent that you were smiling. It could be heard in your voice, for Pete's sake! Your hand traveled from his ribcage, all the way up to his cheek. Oh, that made his breathe stutter.
"yeah— yeah, oh, I'm so fine—", he stuttered. His hips moved. Slowly. Every slow drag out, he closed his eyes. His lips pressing together like they were concealing every secret he had. And, every push in, his eyes opened. Not like he could see much, his glasses fogged up from his own breathing.
"I'm so okay— very okay. Everything is— greangh—", his head dropped on your shoulder when you hooked your legs around his waist. A teasing smile on your lips quickly turned into a open mouthed gasp when his hips snapped on their own.
The hand on his cheek moved to rest on the back of his neck. "Ryland—", you whispered. That seemed to catch his attention as he moved up from his position of laying over you. Now, you could see all of him.
His chest moving from the uneven breathes. His fogged up glasses. Hair slightly askew, falling over his forehead. His lips parted, you could see the sheen layer of sweat glisten under the mood light.
You could tell he was about to say something, your hips moved before his lips could. Grinding against his, begging, screaming for more friction or action or anything. The words stuck on his tongue immediately turned into a choked groan.
"wait— wait, wait, wait", his hand pressed on your stomach. Which did nothing to motivate you to wait. It just pressed you harder against the feeling of him inside, your back arched as you let out a moan, "oh—"
His hand lifted like he touched lava, literally. You opened your eyes, glaring. Was he really adamant on not letting you get off tonight?
Your hand wrapped around his wrist as you yanked him forward, his free hand scrambled to find a solace while yours just pulled him closer by the back of his neck.
"Ryland Grace, if you don't fuck me right now. I swear—", he didn't even have to let you finish. His hips already started moving. Making you take a sudden breath before falling back down on the mattress.
"sorry— I didn't realize I was stalling, heh—", he breathed. "Did you know, that sex functions as a moderate— oh my gosh", he moaned, his hand moving to rest on your hip.
"moderate—", his other hand pushed his glasses up, "exercise that burns 3 to— to", his hips moved. He talked so much, "4.2 calori—mphf—"
Your hand, that was resting on the back of his neck just moved. Two fingers prodding at his lips before resting in his mouth when he opened them to speak. You could feel the warm saliva and soft muscles around it, teeth careful not to graze your fingers.
"shh—", your eyes closed, focusing on the way he feels. But not before you saw the way he nodded and feel his tongue push your fingers to the roof of his mouth.
a/n: I need to make out with this man while he tells the weirdest and the most useless facts he knows while I'm trying to shut him up
based on my post from last night about rocky and Adrian wanting to watch purely for science and ryland being kinda too into it. "4 scientists standing in a circle consenting to let each other watch" to quote myself lmao
3k words, smut, voyeurism, exhibitionism, all consenting adults
-----------------
It’s not like the topic of sex hadn’t come up in the years you spent traveling with Rocky to Erid - he was curious by nature, fascinated by the human body and all its inner workings - but he respected the fact that it was meant to be a private act. He would pretend he never heard you and Ryland when things got a little steamy, making himself busy on the far end of the ship until the sounds quieted down.
So now, sitting on the beach with Ryland, Rocky and Adrian, you were stunned into silence by the blunt questions being directed to you. “You want to what?” Ryland gapes beside you. “Rocky, Adrian want to observe human mating,” said so easily in his melodic tones. Ryland looks at you for help, not sure how to continue this conversation.
“For science!” Adrian chimes in, “you are first humans we’ve known, we want to study everything.”
“You watch Rocky eat, this seems like fair trade,” Rocky states, tapping a claw against the sand. You choke out a laugh, willing the heat in your cheeks to dissipate. “Sorry,” you start, glancing at Ryland to see the pink dusting his cheeks, “you want to watch us… have sex?”
“Yes, observe sex,” Adrian settles a little further down, tilting their carapace toward Rocky. “I know is private ritual,” he hums, “but could be good data to have.”
Ryland nods slowly, staring at his knees while he thinks. Finally, he sighs and faces you, “we would ask the same thing if we were in their position.” He purses his lips, biting back a grin at the shocked look you shoot him. “You’re thinking about it?” You ask, disbelief coating your words.
He laughs, throwing himself back to lay in the sand. “I’m just saying I don’t think it’s such a crazy thing to ask.” He gestures to the aliens next to him, “like, they’re hundreds of years old, they’re intelligent beings, they’ve got a brand new species of equally intelligent life living in a terrarium on their planet, surely they’d want to know.” He lifts his head just enough to look at you, trying to gauge your reaction to his thoughts.
Before you can form a response, Rocky stands proudly. “Rocky already heard all noises on ship, human mating very loud.”
You groan, kicking Ryland’s leg when he lets out a belly laugh at that. “Can’t you just like, watch porn on your laptop?” You’re grasping at straws at this point. “No,” Rocky says immediately, “Grace said porn isn’t realistic. Rocky want to see real thing.” Ryland laughs again, covering his face with his hands, “I did say that.” He peeks at you over his fingers, snorting when you roll your eyes and flop into the sand beside him.
“Hey,” he turns his head to you, “only if you’re comfortable with it.” You think for a moment, trying to find a reason to deny the advancement of science other than sheer embarrassment. “It does feel a little like we’re zoo animals,” you sigh.
“We are zoo animals,” he whispers, hand finding yours, “but we have a choice.” His thumb strokes over your knuckles, “besides, they could learn so much about our biology, think of the studies they’ll be able to do with a few samples from us.”
“Samples?!” Your eyes go wide, “you’re already thinking about jerking off in a cup for them?” He turns away with a cackle, “they’re already studying our bodies,” a quick point to a bruise on his arm from the most recent blood draw, “why wouldn’t they want to learn about reproduction? They already know how it works, we tag-teamed so many of those conversations on Mary.”
You groan, squeezing your eyes shut like you can make the conversation end if you can’t see any of them. “Come on,” Ryland whispers against your cheek, “let’s be guinea pigs.” The grin he cracks is thrilling, like he’s finally living out a fantasy he didn’t know he had. “You’re a fucking nerd,” you breathe quietly, smiling when he buries his face in your neck. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes, fine, we can do it,” you mumble, laughing when he throws a fist in the air and turns to Rocky and Adrian, still sitting quietly beside him. “Okay, we’re in,” he’s all business suddenly, “how do you want this to work?”
“Just want to watch, we go now?” Rocky stands and starts heading in the direction of your little house. “Wha - now, now?” You stammer out, eyes flying to Ryland when he stands and offers a hand to help you up. “Yes, now,” Adrian answers, launching into a list of positions they researched and ranking which ones they wanted to see the most.
—-------
The house is quiet, late afternoon light filling the space with a nice glow. You stand nervously in the bedroom, watching as Rocky and Adrian make themselves comfortable on a bench Ryland dragged in. You set your boundaries on the walk back: the Eridians wouldn’t talk, if either of you were uncomfortable at any point you’d stop, Ryland wasn’t allowed to teach while actively fucking you. All the normal stuff.
He sidles up to you slowly, hands coming to rest on your waist. “Really? A cuck bench?” You laugh, gesturing to the other side of the room. He laughs too, winking while he draws closer, “a scientific, observational cuck bench.” He stops before he kisses you, “just focus on me,” he breathes against your lips, feeling your body release a little tension at his proximity.
You melt into him when he finally presses his lips to yours, trying to push your nerves to the back of your mind. Ryland takes his time, kisses you slowly, passionately, like he’s trying to draw out every insecurity from your body, like he wants you to enjoy it with him. Gentle fingers slide under your shirt, spreading over the warm expanse of your back. He pulls you against him tighter, groaning quietly when you roll your hips against his.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers in your ear, teeth nipping the sensitive skin below it. You tilt your head to give him more access, breath hitching at the way he sucks marks on your neck. You can already feel his erection against you, pressing insistently as he sinks his hands under the waistband of your pants, fingers squeezing the plush flesh of your ass. You palm him through his sweatpants, feeling him shiver against you when you get the pressure just right.
He chokes on a whine, pulling away from your neck just long enough to get his shirt off. Your hands trace over the expanse of his stomach, you can’t help but admire the extra weight he’s put on. He grins against your lips, big hands cupping your face before he’s moving to pull your shirt off too.
The cool air against your skin suddenly reminds you that you’re not alone. Ryland feels the tension return to your frame, shifting so your back is to the aliens in the corner. He strokes your arms and kisses you soundly, his tongue claiming yours in an attempt to keep you in the moment with him.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs under his breath, feeling the goosebumps that raise under his fingers. “Cold, sweetheart?” His smile makes your heart skip again, he looks at you like you hung the moon. You nod and he twists his mouth like he’s thinking of the best way to warm you up. “Want me to help?” He’s teasing now, clearly getting a thrill out of making you grin despite yourself.
“Lay down for me,” he kisses you again for good measure. You climb on the bed, laying against the pillows while he sheds his pants with a wink. “Love you,” he whispers into your skin as he works his way up your body. You arch enough to let him unhook your bra, accepting the deep kisses he gives you when he throws it to the ground.
A soft moan makes its way out of your throat when he licks down your neck and chest, slowly working his way to your breasts. He looks up at you from under his lashes when he takes a nipple in his mouth, eyelids fluttering when you stroke a hand through his hair. He sucks on your breasts like it’s his job, drawing out sounds from you that are almost embarrassing in current company.
When you tug his hair with a murmur of his name, he groans, tongue vibrating against your sensitive nub and pulling a whimper from you. He pulls off with a pop, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your nipple. The sight sends a shock to your core, your hips rolling against him and head tilting back. He smirks to himself, shifting so he can get your pants and underwear off.
He sits back on his knees and takes you in. Soft hands lift your leg, his lips leaving sweet kisses from your ankle to your knee. He lays flat, dark eyes locked on your pussy, not even trying to hide the growl that claws its way out of him. Seconds tick by with no additional contact, you reach for him, tugging his hair again.
“Please, Ry,” you whisper, moaning when he licks a stripe up your core like that’s all he was waiting for. The first taste has him groaning against you, his eyes rolling back and fingers flexing on your thighs. “S’ good,” he whines into you, pressing your legs further apart.
You throw your head back, grinding your hips when he bumps your clit with his nose. It’s a little exhilarating knowing that you’re being watched in such a vulnerable position. Ryland between your legs, slowly taking you apart with his tongue, encouraging you to take what you need. And it doesn’t help that Ryland seems to be working twice as hard as normal, like he’s trying to show off to aliens who don’t know any different.
You feel a hand leave your leg and soft fingers prod your entrance. He looks up at you without breaking his rhythm, waiting for permission that you give quickly, willingly. You feel more than see the smile that pulls at his lips, then he pushes in and squeezes his eyes shut. “Oh, baby,” he groans into your skin, “so tight, so warm. This all for me?” Your breath hitches, you love his mouth in these moments.
“Just for you, Ryland,” you moan, back arching when he slides a second finger in. He growls again, speeding up his movements and chasing your release like it already belongs to him. A curl of his fingers has you bucking into his hand, spreading your slick against his chin and cheek. You clench down, guiding his head to exactly where you need him to tighten the coil in your stomach.
He flicks his tongue and sucks just right, staring up at you with wide eyes as he feels you building. Little groans of, “mhm, mhm,” fall from his lips, spurring you towards the edge. A gasp pulls from your throat and your whole body tenses, heat rolling through you in waves. You grind against his face, feel him lick up your release as it spills around his fingers still nudging that spot inside you.
You flop down in the bed, breath coming in harsh pants, and take a second to assess your body. Your legs were tingling, vision a little fuzzy, core spasming as Ryland slowly pulls out. He stays where he is, pressing kisses to your thighs and hips, whispering praise until he sees your face relax fully. When you reach for him, he moves quickly.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling when you let out a small sound. “Doing okay?” He asks against your jaw, fingers intertwining with yours and lifting above your head. “Yeah,” you breathe, “I could go for another one.” It’s your turn to wink at him.
“I can get back down there if you want,” he teases, licking into your mouth when you laugh. “Mm, Ry, I wanna come with you,” you hold his face with your free hand, thumb swiping against his cheek gently. That sweet pink shows itself on his skin again, making you giggle as he drops his weight into you.
“I think we can make that happen,” he groans, shoving his boxers off with one hand and kneeing your legs farther apart. You spread easily, so wrapped up in the man above you that you forget there’s been an audience here the whole time.
He wastes no time, slotting his tip against your entrance with a whimper against your shoulder. You roll your hips just right, feeling him slip in. He shudders above you, “sl-slow baby,” he begs, “y’ got me so worked up.” A sharp nip lands on your neck, causing your head to drop back again with a moan.
“Love those noises you make, so sexy,” he’s talking to distract from the fact that he’s not moving. “Can feel you squeezing me already, god, you’re amazing,” he slides in another inch, gasping and groaning when he feels your walls give way for him. “Oh- oh baby, fuck.”
You try to relax, try to make it easier for him, but the sounds falling from him are so hot, you can’t help the occasional clench that rocks you both. It takes him a while to push all the way in, he does everything he can to keep it together when he bottoms out and you gasp right in his ear. He’s not usually so sensitive, you briefly wonder if being watched is doing it for him that much. He did agree to it pretty quickly, after all.
He gives a testing thrust, panting above you with the effort. You roll your hips when he finds a rhythm, feeling how he squeezes your hand still in his above your head. He builds speed, practically fucking you into the mattress with the depth of each thrust. You’re a mess beneath him, moaning and gasping, head tossing and turning, free hand sinking nails into his back and neck.
A steady string of “yes, yes, yes,” punches out of him, like he couldn’t keep the words in if he tried. Without breaking his pace, his big hand grabs the back of your thigh, heaving it up towards your chest. The new angle makes your eyes roll back, his cock reaching deeper and deeper. A growl rips from his throat, low tones vibrating against your chest. You hug him to you tighter, taking everything he gave you with barely concealed elation.
He feels you clench around him particularly hard, feels how close you’re getting. He releases your hand to grab your other leg, pushing it up to match the other one. The position pushes the air out of your lungs, your legs shaking under his hold. “Give it to me, sweet girl,” he rumbles, “come on my cock, baby.”
You slip a hand down to where you’re connected, gathering some slick and rubbing your clit in rough circles. Your fingers brushing against his length almost makes him cum, he whimpers into the air and grits hit teeth to stave it off.
The sensations build, your body going taut as you finally crest the wave. A broken cry rips from your throat, legs shaking against his strong hold. It shatters through your whole body, heat and sparks for what feels like an eternity before you can suck in a breath. You clamp down on him and it tips him right over, a loud groan signalling his end before you feel warmth flood your walls.
He fucks you through it, dropping your legs in favor of leaning forward and kissing you messily. It's all teeth and tongue, he’s practically drooling into your open mouth. Your body relaxes against the sheets again, letting him press you into the mattress with grounding weight. He places sloppy kisses all over your face and neck, eyes half lidded in his own daze.
“Jesus, okay,” he laughs with his face hidden, “I was really into that.” A surprised laugh bubbles out of you, your hands cupping his cheeks to lift him up where you can see him. “I could tell,” you smile at his blush, “it’s been a while since you went for a mating press.” He grins into your palm, “Adrian mentioned it and I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” he sighs, pressing a sweet kiss to the tip of your thumb.
He rubs your side soothingly, turning his head to Rocky and Adrian, “you guys, uh - you got what you needed?” You look over to see them stand, stepping off the bench like normal. “Rocky has questions, statement.”
You and Ryland burst into giggles, “yeah, of course. Just give us a few minutes to clean up?” They amble towards the door, “Rocky, Adrian wait on beach, have much to discuss.”
You don’t have a chance to ask what that means before they’re gone. Ryland turns back to you slowly, “I know they don’t have anything to compare that to, but is it weird I wanted to impress them?” He looks shy, like he can’t believe that just happened. “They’re actually talking right now about how much of a beast Grace is in bed,” you laugh, squeezing his cheeks when he goes bright red.
He groans and rolls off of you, covering his face with a pillow. “You’re never gonna let me live this down,” it comes out muffled but you hear it anyway. You shift to lay against his side, “hey, I was as much of an eager participant as you were.”
“Besides,” you skim your fingers over his chest, “it was kinda hot, seeing you so lost in it.”
“Lost in it?” He snorts, pulling the pillow away. “Mhm,” you hum, “like you were drunk on me.” He grips you tightly with both hands, sliding you up his body until he can kiss you properly.
“We should ask them to make alcohol so we can do that again tipsy,” he whispers against your lips, smiling when you push his head away with a laugh. “Adrian’s got more positions they want to see, anyway.”
-------------
ryland would SO be down for the science and accidentally discover new things about himself, like he's just always down to experiment lmao
Sorry if this is tmi😔 I have nip piercings and microdermals on my lower back and not to be presumptuous. but. I think Ryland would be SO not normal abt them on reader..
also there's the fact that because they're easy to overlook. Little secrets that one only sees if you want them to (and you DO want him to!¡¡!!)
he would be SOOOOO not normal. look. i know that man is a mild-mannered middle school teacher. but i also just know, in my heart of hearts, that he was a freak when he was younger, and i don't actually think he's lost that as an adult, he's just better at keeping it under wraps.
so yeah, any kind of intimate piercings would drive him insane (positive). he loves taking you on dates in public, seeing you dressed up all pretty and proper for him—and then getting you home and getting to undress you and getting to see parts of you that no one else even knows exists. he's horny about it and also very tender (tracing little circles around your back dimple piercings, for example).
(also. maybe he even has a secret piercing of his own. from his younger wilder days. idk. something to consider....)
(also. "sorry if this is tmi" diva all i do on this blog is talk about fictional characters in GRAPHIC detail, you are all good 🫶🏼) (and those piercings sound so cool oml!!! i only have my ears pierced, from when i was a baby, but lately i've been toying around with the idea if getting a VCH piercing at some point? is that insane? i really like the idea of having a secret piercing, and i think nipple piercings are so cute but probably wouldn't be the most comfy for me bc i need to wear bras most of the time for support snd comfort, so this feels like a possible alternative)
hi i am infatuated with ur work everytime i read ur fics im #ovulating 🥺 ANYWHO can u do ryland grace x fem!reader after ryland comes back from space and is absolutely touch starved it is insane? that’s it..thanks!🤤
-🏹
PF COURSE this will be implied older reader au thing where reader was younger than ryland and now shes idk like late 30's.. just..walk with me on this!!!
He's been back on Earth for three weeks, and he still can't stop touching things.
The walls. The countertops. The leaves on the trees outside. He runs his fingers over everything like he's verifying it's real, like he's still in the Hail Mary's sterile pod and needs to remind himself that gravity exists, that air moves, that there are other people.
But he hasn't touched you yet. Not really. Not the way he wants to.
You've been patient. You've seen the way his hands hover near your shoulder, then drop. The way he stands too close, then steps back. The way his eyes track you across the room, hungry and hesitant all at once.
Tonight, you're sitting on the couch, reading. He's been circling the living room for ten minutes, picking up the same mug, putting it down, picking it up again.
You close your book. "Ryland. Come here."
He stops. His Adam's apple bobs with a harsh, audible sound. "I— I don't know if I can— if I'll be able to—"
"Come here."
He crosses the room like he's walking through molasses. When he reaches the couch, he stands in front of you, hands clenched at his sides. His whole body is trembling.
You reach out and take his hand. His fingers are cold, calloused from years of working in zero-G, gripping tools, surviving. You pull him down onto the couch beside you.
He makes a sound—a soft, broken noise—when you don't let go.
"Years," he whispers. "I didn't touch anyone for years. I didn't see any humans. I thought I was going to die alone out there."
You bring his hand to your cheek, press it against your skin. "You're here now."
His breath catches. His thumb moves, almost involuntarily, tracing the curve of your cheekbone. Then his other hand comes up, cupping your face, and he leans in and presses his forehead to yours.
"I don't know where to start," he says, voice cracking. "I want to touch all of you. I want to memorize every inch. I'm afraid if I start, I won't stop."
"Then don't stop."
He kisses you.
It's not gentle. It's desperate, hungry, his mouth crushing against yours, his hands sliding into your hair, gripping, pulling. He's not coordinated—he's all awkward angles and too much teeth, but the need in it is overwhelming. He's trying to devour you, trying to make up for thousands of days of isolation in one kiss.
You pull back just enough to breathe. "Slow down. We have time."
He gasps like he's been choked out. "I've been itching—I've been dreaming about this. About you. I used to jerk off in the ship thinking about your hands, your mouth, the way you'd feel underneath me—"
He cuts himself off, face flushing, but his hands are already pushing the hem of your shirt up. "Can I— is this okay—"
You catch his wrists. "Yes. But slow down. Let me touch you back."
He freezes, chest heaving. Nods.
You unbutton his shirt slowly, pushing it off his shoulders. His skin is pale, covered in scars—a long one across his ribs, a burn mark on his collarbone down his arm, the faded lines of lifetime experiences. He flinches when your fingers trace the scar on his ribs.
"Does it hurt?"
"No. It's just—" He swallows. "It's been so long since anyone touched me. I forgot what it felt like. I forgot how good it feels."
You push him back onto the couch, straddle his hips. He's already hard, straining against his jeans, and when you grind down on him, he lets out a moan that's almost a sob.
"Please," he whispers. "Please, I need— I need to feel you. I need to be inside you. I need to know I'm real, that this is real."
You reach down, unbutton his jeans, free his cock. It's thick, flushed, already leaking. You stroke him once, twice, and he bucks into your hand, eyes rolling back.
"I'm not gonna last— I've been thinking about this for so long—"
"Then don't." You guide him to your entrance, sink down onto him in one slow, wet motion.
He cries out. His hands fly to your hips, gripping hard enough to bruise, and he's shaking—his whole body trembling as you take him inch by inch until he's buried to the hilt.
"Fuck," he gasps. "Fuck, fuck, fuck—" You've never witnessed him curse so much before—always making it a point not to swear as to not slip up when working with his kids.
You stay still for a moment, letting him adjust. His eyes are squeezed shut, his face twisted like he's in pain, but it's not pain—it's overload. He's been starved for so long that this much sensation is almost too much.
"Look at me," you say.
He opens his eyes. They're glassy, wet.
"Tell me what you need."
"I need—" His voice splits. He pulls you down, wraps his arms around you, buries his face in your neck. "I need you to hold me. I need to feel you holding me."
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hold him tight against your chest. He's sobbing now, quiet, muffled against your skin, and you rock your hips slowly, gently, letting him fuck up into you with shallow, desperate thrusts.
He's not trying to be good. He's not trying to impress. He's just feeling—finally, after years of nothing, feeling another body against his, skin on skin, warmth and wetness and the sound of your breath in his ear.
He comes with a broken cry, buried deep inside you, his arms locked around you like he's afraid you'll disappear. You hold him through it, stroke his hair, press kisses to his temple.
He stays inside you, soft now, but still not letting go. His breath is hot against your neck, his body slowly relaxing.
"Thank you," he whispers. "Thank you for being here. For waiting."
"Always."
He pulls back just enough to look at you. His face is tear-streaked, his eyes red, but he's smiling—a real smile, the first one you've seen since he came back.
He kisses you, softer this time. Gentle. Learning again.
summary: you send ryland some spicy photos while he's at work.
notes: i wrote this while taking a break from my latest wip. also i stayed up way past my bedtime trying to finish it lmao it came out pretty quickly and as usual i did not really bother to proofread it. both because i am lazy and because i am too tired. i may do a part two later on.
tag list: @avocado-writing, @pixiebuggz, @cosmicyeehaw, @julepod
It's a Friday - your day off. You're alone and bored in the apartment you share with Ryland, who is (much to your displeasure) stuck at work for a professional development day. The first part of the morning had slipped by quickly as you ran errands and tidied up the apartment, but as noon approaches you find yourself growing restless.
You glance at the clock on the wall, watching the seconds tick steadily by. Ryland will be at work for at least another two hours. You're sure he'll be exhausted when he gets home, and will most definitely complain about the latest curriculum adjustments or whatever lackluster guest speaker the district had decided to hire this year.
A sinful idea pops into your head just then. It's almost lunchtime, which means Ryland will text you soon to check in on you. Maybe you can help lighten his mood a little before he has to slog through the rest of his afternoon.
You hurry into the bedroom and head for the closet, shedding your clothes as you go. You're left standing stark naked in front of your shared closet, flicking through Ryland's collection of button-up shirts.
You settle on your favorite one: a lovely cornflower blue with white buttons. It's slightly more form-fitting than the rest of the shirts Ryland wears, hence it being your favorite. Whenever he wears it you inevitably catch yourself staring at the way the material stretches over his shoulders and hugs his biceps. Once, he'd worn it with the sleeves rolled up and you'd been pretty sure you were going to pass out from how quickly your blood rushed south.
You slip into the shirt and button it up halfway, trying not to get terribly distracted by the scent of his cologne clinging to the collar. There's at least a two minute period in which you fight with the sleeves, trying to roll them up one-handed. Eventually you wrestle them into place and spare a glance at the clock on the nightstand. Only a few minutes left till Ryland's break. You hurry back into the living room and snatch up your phone, settling into the corner of the couch. Time to translate your idea into action.
You open the camera on your phone and snap a picture. When you open up the camera roll to assess your work you're pleased with the result: a view of you from the waist up, a cheeky smile on your face and just a hint of cleavage visible between the open buttons of his shirt.
All things considered it's fairly innocuous. Better to start off modest and work your way up to the main event once you've been assured he's alone. How mortifying it would be for the both of you if he were to open his phone around his coworkers only for them to get a full view of your tits. He'd definitely get fired and you'd have to live with the knowledge that you'd digitally flashed his middle-aged coworkers.
You pull up your text thread with Ryland and send him the picture. Miss you, you add after, tacking on a red heart.
Six minutes later (six minutes you most certainly were not counting) his reply comes.
Ryland: miss you too sweetheart ❤️
Ryland: you look so good in my shirt.
Ryland: how's your day been?
Ryland's not shy about how much he enjoys seeing you in his clothes. There have been numerous occasions where you've donned one of those nerdy science pun tees he's so fond of and stepped out into the living room while he's trying to grade papers just so you could see him look up once, do a double take, and watch any thoughts of work vanish from behind his eyes. It's flattering, knowing you can have that kind of effect on him.
You tap out an answer: good, managed to get lots done around the apartment.
You: it'll be a better day once you're home.
The message is marked as read immediately. A second later a little red heart react pops up on your last text.
You: you around anyone right now?
Three little dots appear on the bottom of the screen and you watch eagerly as Ryland types out his reply.
Ryland: just a few more hours, thank god. wanna watch a movie tonight?
Ryland: and no, i stepped outside for some fresh air.
Ryland: why? 🤨
Your mouth curls into a wicked grin as you flick open the next button on the shirt and open your phone's camera again. The selfie you take this time is more salacious than the last. Your lips are curved into a seductive smile, cleavage bared, breasts pressed together in a tantalizing display. There's a hint of areola peeking out, the rosy pink contrasting against the pale blue of the shirt. It's sure to draw his eye.
You send it to him before you can second guess yourself.
You: wanted to show you what's waiting for you when you get home, that's all 😇
It's a risky move you're pulling, teasing him while he's at work. You've sexted him before while he's away from home. Every time you do he comes home in a flurry, barely even grunting out a greeting before he has you pulled flush against him, lips sliding against yours, hands gripping at your waist and hips and breasts, hard cock pressed against your lower belly. Every time you let him take his pleasure and return it to you twofold, leaving you both sweaty and sated
The seconds seem to stretch, those three bouncing dots appearing and disappearing and then appearing again.
Ryland: oh my god
Ryland: baby please
Ryland: are you trying to kill me?
Ryland: jesus I'm getting hard at work
Ryland: you're a menace
His rapid-fire messages pause for a moment. Your phone dings when he adds:
you're probably laughing at me
He's right, you are, your face buried in the crook of your elbow as you snicker at his flustered response. He's supposed to be working on his professional development but his reaction to your image is very much not professional.
You: me, laugh at you? never.
Then, because you never know when to leave well enough alone, you take one last picture. This time the shirt is hanging off your shoulders, exposing the upper curve of your breasts and the subtle line of your collarbones. You angle the camera in such a way that he can see the bare expanse of your thighs. It's a shame the camera can't capture the slickness you feel gathering there, your skin prickling with excitement and arousal as you send the photo off.
Ryland: baby you can't do this to me while I'm at work, it's not fair.
Ryland: how the hell am I supposed to focus on team building exercises now?
You feel only a little bad for him. You're a little too focused on the heat gathered between your legs and the pleasant shiver that slithers along your back and down your limbs as you imagine what's in store for you when he gets home. Pressing your thighs together offers little relief. You're so, so tempted to slide your hand down and sate your growing arousal. But you don't. You're determined to delay your wandering hands, to suspend your pleasure for as long as possible. You know the wait will be worth it.
Your fingers tap across the keyboard: you're smart, you'll figure it out ;)
Ryland's final response before he goes silent makes your breath hitch: you better be on the bed and still wearing that shirt when I get home.
pt 2 to Piercings, thanks to everyone who asked for more of this one, I loooooove it hahaha
2.8k words, smut, reader has nipple piercings, fingering, ryland is nervous and sensitive
this is pure filth, enjoy ;)
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Ryland hadn’t mentioned the little show and tell session you’d given him for a few weeks. Everything fell back into your normal routine so easily, you almost forgot he’d held your tits in his hands and pulled on your nipples like he was studying your body, like your reactions were just as interesting as the metal barbells decorating your breasts. But the memory lingered just enough for you, playing over in your mind as you lay in bed each night, leaving you to soak through your panties and shamefully wipe away the evidence the next morning.
But then the plan was set to go fishing on Adrian, and your time was spent connecting chain links and pretending the work wasn’t mind numbingly boring. Ryland would sit on the floor, hands moving steadily, and you couldn’t help but imagine those nimble fingers reaching for other places he hadn’t seen yet. And he noticed your staring, he wasn’t blind to the fact that you both were dealing with the feelings that come with forced proximity, he knew you saw him staring too.
“Can I ask you a question?” Ryland starts, eyes focused on the chain in his hands. You hum and nod, stretching your arms over your head, trying to work out the knot forming between your shoulders. He looks up just in time to see how your back arches, the outline of your piercings pressing through your thin tanktop. You just smirk, prolonging your stretch to let him have his fill.
The last time he asked you that, he ended up with a handful of naked flesh and a newfound appreciation for body mods, so you wondered if he’d finally cracked. “Yeah?” You press after a lengthy pause, smiling when he makes a choked noise and finally makes eye contact with you. “Sorry,” he mumbles, his cheeks going red at being caught so obviously staring.
“I was just thinking about home,” he clears his throat, trying to push forward, “did you leave anyone behind? Any family? Or… a partner?” You set the chain down and sigh, shifting so you’re facing him fully. “No, my grandparents raised me, they both passed a few years before I joined the project,” you wave him off when he murmurs a quiet apology, “they were old, it was time.”
He sets his chain down too, giving you his full attention, his eyes sympathetic. “That’s basically my story too,” he gives you a small smile, stretching his leg out to poke your knee, maybe an attempt at comfort. “And your dating life?” He prods, ducking his head when you laugh. “Dating wasn’t really my thing,” you shrug, “I gave it a good too many tries, just couldn’t find someone I clicked with.”
He hums at that, tilting his head like he’s throwing too many thoughts around. “So you volunteered to save the world,” he winks. “Figured I might as well take a spot if it means someone with more to lose gets to stay home,” and you shift again, moving closer to him to connect your chains together.
It’s quiet for a minute, he just watches you work, helping to push the chain to the side when you’re done. “Can I tell you something?” He sounds nervous suddenly, like he just remembered that he finds you intimidating. You settle in front of him, nodding when you see how tense he is. “I can’t stop thinking about your piercings,” he whispers, eyes dropping to his hands like he’s admitting his greatest sin.
You can’t help the little laugh that slips out, piecing everything together quickly. “Well, you know I don’t have a partner waiting for me back home, you’ve already seen my tits, I wouldn’t entertain these conversations if I wasn’t interested,” your voice is steady, amusement peeking through. His head whips up, wide eyes meeting yours. “Yeah?” His voice is low, raspy, even.
A small nod and a smile from you has him shifting, scooting forward until he’s right in front of you on the floor of the lab. “I know where Stratt packed the condoms,” you murmur, laughing when he drops his head with a groan. “Should’ve known she prepared for this kind of thing,” he whispers, reaching for your hand slowly.
Long fingers wrap around yours, his thumb stroking over your knuckles before he stands and pulls you up with him. “You want to go that far?” He asks hesitantly, “to… to condom territory?” You push him backwards until he hits the wall, smiling at the startled noise he makes. “Ryland, I wouldn’t have mentioned them if I didn’t want to use them,” and you lean forward and kiss him. It takes him a few seconds to get his brain and body connected, like he didn’t think this was an option.
The thought makes you warm, he was being so patient because he didn’t want to push you into something you didn’t want, but in making you wait so long, you found yourself becoming desperate for his touch. He was putty in your hands the second Rocky outed you for having piercings, you think for a second that you should have just made a move back then because he was clearly as wanting as you were.
He kisses you back, his hands landing on your hips and his tongue slipping into your mouth with a quiet sigh. You pull back, taking in how soft he looks with his eyes closed and his lips slightly pursed. “Come on,” you step away, reaching for his hand again, “the condoms are in the bunkroom.” He bites his lip and nods, following you through the maze of xenonite tunnels running along the ship.
You drop his hand when you get there, stepping over to one of the medical supply bags stashed in a corner, and dig around until you find what you’re looking for. You rip one off and return to him, throwing it towards the pillow on your bunk, smiling when he watches it land with bated breath.
He jumps forward suddenly, cupping your face with both hands and kissing you so deeply it takes your breath away. He licks into your mouth desperately, letting out a moan when you return the kiss just as passionately. Your hands land on his biceps, squeezing the muscle under his sleeves with firm fingers. When he pulls away to suck in a breath, you push him back to the bed, settling him against the wall so you can climb in his lap.
Big blue eyes look up at you, his glasses fogging already. You slide them off his face, set them on the little shelf in the wall, and run a hand through his hair. The new angle makes you dizzy when you kiss him again, his fingers roving your thighs and hips, settling on your waist under your shirt. “God,” he whispers your name, gasping when you kiss down his jaw and neck, your teeth grazing his skin and making his hips twitch.
He pulls your shirt off with clumsy movements, plucking at the back of your bra until he gets the hooks open. You let him throw it to the floor, sitting up to see his face as he takes in your breasts again. It’s different this time, he doesn’t ask for permission to touch, just lifts his hands and cups you like he’s living out a dream he’s always had. His thumbs swipe over your nipples, fingers squeezing when you choke out a soft moan.
You can’t remember ever being looked at like this, his eyelids are hooded, his mouth slightly open, desire pouring out of him in waves. You feel his breath fanning over your skin, goosebumps rising and back arching when he leans forward. His tongue meets your nipple, twirling around the jewelry with a groan. The feeling makes your head tilt back, but you lift it quickly to keep watching him, the sight of his lips sealing over your breast sending heat straight to your core.
“Mm, my god,” he whines, licking and sucking until your hips roll against his. “Ry,” you sigh, hands tugging at his hair, encouraging him on. He laves his way across your chest, sucking your other nipple into his mouth, drooling over the barbell and licking up everything that leaks down your skin. He peers up at you from under his lashes, scraping his teeth over your bud lightly, groaning when you grind down on him harder.
His hands hold you tightly, fingers flexing against your ass and helping you move. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that,” he growls, nipping at your neck when you huff a laugh. “Do you want to?” You ask, pulling his head back so you can see him. He’s flushed, his lips swollen and red, eyes shining up at you like he’s right where he wants to be. You watch him think, see how he glances down at the condom laying beside him. He looks back to you with his brows raised, something needy and helpless flashing over his face.
“Or do you want to come in me?” You whisper, smiling when he nods quickly, a whine falling from his lips. You pet a hand down his cheek, tugging at his shirt and swinging your leg over him so you can stand. He stands with you, shedding his clothing in a flash, freezing when he sees how you’re staring at him with your lip between your teeth. “Hey,” he mumbles, bringing a hand to your neck and pulling you into a long, intense kiss. Big hands push your pants and underwear down, helping you step out of them and ghosting over your skin. “You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, punctuating it with another kiss, smiling into it when you melt under him.
You shove his boxers down, grinning when he groans, and stroke gentle fingers over his length. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he sighs, eyes closing and head falling forward. “You’re really pretty too,” you whisper in response, making his hips thrust on their own. “Lay down for me,” he pulls your hand away, chest heaving with the effort.
He plucks the condom off the bed, watching as you stretch out and put on a little show for him. You squeeze your breasts, pinching at your nipples with a moan, your head pressing into the pillow. Your fingers slide down, down, down to your soaking center, sliding through your slick and circling your clit until your back arches. When he doesn’t move, you turn to him, question in your eyes. “Keep going,” he reaches for your hand between your legs, “stretch yourself out, baby.”
You can’t help the gasp that escapes at his words, the firm grip he has on your wrist guiding your fingers right to your entrance. He shifts for a better view when you sink two fingers in, his hand setting the pace for you. “That’s it,” he groans, “listen to you.” The sounds of your wet pussy fill the room, he pushes your leg down and out of the way so he can get closer.
Like he can’t take it anymore, he pulls your hand out and wraps his lips around your fingers, sucking off the evidence of your arousal as his eyes roll back. He lays your hand down on your chest, trailing his fingers back down and over your mound, dipping into your wetness with a sound deep in his chest. He pushes two in, eyes watching your face as he pumps slowly, his palm bumping your clit with every thrust.
The whole scene is filthy, Ryland standing beside the bed, fingering you into oblivion while you writhe and moan. His other hand comes down to press along your hips, keeping you in place so he can search for the spot inside you that he knows will make you break. He’s patient, curling his fingers and feeling along your walls until you buck up into him, sparks shooting out from your core when he zeros in on it.
Your hips grind into him, a loud moan pulling from you as your legs shake. “Ry,” you gasp out, “Ry, I’m close.” He nods, letting up on your waist to bring his hand to your clit. “Let me hear you,” he whispers, dropping his head to suck your nipple back into his mouth. A quiet please slips from your lips and your back arches, heat pulsing through you, your walls gripping his fingers harder with every thrust. He whispers against your skin, tells you how beautiful you look, how warm you feel around him, how perfect you’re doing.
You relax into the mattress with a sigh, giggling when Ryland smiles up at you with your piercing in his mouth. You run a hand through his hair, tugging him up for a kiss and looping your arms around his neck. He goes easily, lets you rest for a moment, leaning over you with his hands caging you in. When you separate, he gives you a soft look. “You got one more for me?” He asks with a grin, fingers reaching for your nipple again when you nod. He pinches and pulls, laughing when you swat him away.
He rips the condom open, rolling it on his now very hard length, chest heaving as he gives himself a few pumps. Finally, he climbs over you, kneeing your legs apart enough to make himself comfortable. He hovers for a second, checking you over one more time before he lines up and pushes in with a broken groan. His head drops to your shoulder immediately, he’s barely got the tip in and he’s already losing it.
You rub his back, kiss his cheek, try to relax so you’re not so tight around him. “Feel good, baby?” You whisper to him, smiling when he whimpers against your neck. “Take your time, there’s no rush,” you stroke his hair, gasping when he pushes in another inch. It rips a cry from him again, a quiet “fuck” muffled against your skin.
With a deep breath and an obviously strengthening resolve, he slides the rest of the way in, panting and groaning, planting messy kisses to your neck and chest to distract himself. He gets his mouth back around your nipple, rolling his hips in time with his tongue. The stretch is incredible, you feel his tip nudge your spot with each push in, your hips shifting to meet him. “So good, Ry,” you breathe, feeling how the praise puffs him up a little.
“Feel you so deep,” you keep talking, knowing he needs it right now. He slips his hand down to rub your clit, groaning when you clench down on him. “Keep doing that,” you sigh, “god, your mouth is so good.” He bites your nipple, pulls at the jewelry with his lips, looking up at you again with blown out pupils. He shudders when you scratch down his back, speeding up his thrusts just a bit. “Y’ so warm,” he groans, “so tight.”
You know he’s not going to last much longer, so you pinch at your other nipple, helping build your orgasm faster for him. He sees you do it and whines, his saliva dripping down your breast like he can’t help but drool from the pleasure. Your moans jump an octave, you feel the warmth gathering in your core, spreading down your legs with each circle of his fingers on your clit. “I’m right there,” you whisper, throwing your head back as the edge creeps closer.
He keeps his pace, feeling how you clench in rhythm, adding little grinds against that spot inside you with each thrust. “Now,” you cry, your body tensing and shaking under him. The sweet waves of ecstasy pull you under, the heat shooting all the way up to your head, making your eyes roll back with a moan. You hear him whine, feel his hips stutter before he slams all the way in and grinds a few times, trying to draw it out for both of you. The quiet of the bunkroom settles back in, nothing but the sound of your heavy breaths filling the silence.
You rub his back again, pull him down so he’s laying on your chest. He drops willingly, wrapping his arms under your back. Neither of you speak for a few minutes, just basking in the physical touch you’ve both been so deprived of for years. Your eyes are heavy, you think he might be falling asleep on top of you, but you don’t feel the need to disturb him, not now.
“Was that mating ritual?” Rocky’s robo voice sounds from the doorway, making you and Ryland jump. “Jesus, Rock,” Ryland grumbles, scrambling to cover you with as much of the sheet as he can pull up. You laugh, letting him try to save your decency. “He can see through our clothes,” you murmur lowly, giggling when he freezes and looks at you.
“Rocky want to know more. Grace explain ritual now, statement.”
Ryland groans and buries his face in your chest again, “later, statement.”
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"and the whimpering is part of the ritual?" - rocky, probably
One day, a while after they first meet and they actually have some down time to ask random, unnecessary questions, Rocky asks fem reader what the attachments are that he can see on her upper torso and/or between her legs. Turns out reader has nipple and/or clit piercings, and thanks to Rocky, that fact has just been broadcasted 👀 .... Maybe even triggers some curiosity in a certain someone 👀👀👀?
I didn't mean for this to be so long but I guess I can't write a drabble LOL thank you for the request!!
Piercings ~ ryland grace x reader
1.5k words, suggestive touching but no smut
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A few weeks cohabitating with your new alien companion passed relatively easily, building his language library and plotting to save two worlds, you know, normal stuff. A lot of time was spent sitting around thinking, brainstorming and running calculations and trying to hold on to the hope that you were the right people for this mission.
You and Ryland sit on opposite sides of the table in the lab, Rocky sitting between you behind his xenonite walls. It’s been quiet for a few minutes, Ryland scribbling on a whiteboard and erasing everything, just to write it all again. You were reading through some files you found in a box marked “important,” figuring that someone put that label there for a reason.
Finally, Rocky’s robotic voice sounds from the laptop open on a bench, “why friend have metal in ears, question?” You turn to him, ignoring the confused face Ryland makes, and pull your hair over your shoulder. A few small studs adorn your ears, Stratt sent you to space with plastic retainers in, but let you bring the titanium pieces to wear when you woke up. “They’re jewelry,” you explain casually, “little decorations we wear.”
Ryland leans forward to see, apparently not having noticed in the haze of your overwhelming mission. “Like celebration clothing, question?” Rocky asks, tapping a foot on the ground. “Sort of, we do have nicer pieces for events, but these are very plain.” You tug at your lobe a little, playing with the stud.
You think the conversation is over, so you turn back to your work, glancing at Ryland to see that his head is already down, hand moving quickly across his whiteboard again.
“Two bars on your front also decoration, question?”
You close your eyes, realizing just how much he was able to see through. You open again to see Ryland looking at you with his eyebrows raised, eyes flicking around your face and ears, trying to spot the jewelry he missed. Heat rises to your face, your hand covering your mouth for a moment before you turn back to Rocky.
“Yeah, uh- yeah, those are also decorations,” you hope that’s a good enough answer but you know it’s not going to satisfy his curiosity.
“Even if not visible, question?”
You nod, flashing him a tight smile, and shuffle through the papers in your folder. “Why, question?” Yep, you knew that was coming. You take a deep breath, knowing that Ryland is watching you closely, dissecting everything you say with a frown on his face. “Sometimes,” you start, “we get jewelry that’s just for us to see. It helps with confidence and stuff…” How eloquent, you think to yourself.
Rocky seems to accept that answer, but when you spare a glance at Ryland you catch him staring at your breasts. He makes a choked sound and goes red, averting his eyes quickly. It pulls a laugh from you, maybe you should have expected that kind of reaction from him, maybe he was a little more sheltered on earth than you thought.
He puts his hand up, muttering a quiet, “sorry, sorry,” under his breath.
~~
A few days pass uneventfully, Ryland was a little more awkward than normal but other than that you think you escaped that conversation unscathed. Until you walk into the lab and he whips around in his chair and clears his throat.
“Can I… Can I ask you something completely unprofessional?” He asks meekly, like he knows he’s pushing a boundary but he just can’t help it. You frown and nod, taking a seat across from him. He takes a deep breath, blowing it out slowly like he needs it to build courage. “I was just thinking about that conversation you had with Rocky, about your earrings…”
Ah, of course. He loses steam, suddenly realizing what he’s about to ask so impulsively. “Do you… do you have your…” a little hand gesture against his own chest trying to say what his mouth won’t.
“My nipples pierced?” You smile when he balks, “yes, I do.”
He holds eye contact, it’s clear he’s practicing restraint though, because his eyes dip just a little before shooting back to yours. He’s bright red, looking like a deer in headlights. “Really?” He sounds… excited? That’s interesting.
You nod with a hum, giving him your full attention. “Go ahead, Grace, ask your questions,” you lay the invite out on the table, giving him permission to be curious.
“Can I see them?”
Okay, you didn’t expect that. It’s your turn to balk, your mouth dropping open and a breath catching in your throat. He’s looking at you expectantly, face the perfect picture of innocence. “I - you - what?” You stammer out, trying to wrangle your surprise down long enough to hear him out.
“I’ve never seen any in person,” he gives a shy little smile, “just wondering what they look like up close.”
You don’t think your brows can get any higher, you search his face for any ulterior motive. “You said I could be unprofessional,” he adds with his hands raised.
He lets you think, lets you wrestle with the fact that you’re the only two people in space, knows that he’ll see them eventually just by the forced proximity you’re both stuck in. Finally, you nod.
His eyes go wide, not expecting you to agree so easily. You wave him over, patting the stool next to yours with a wide grin. “Come on, if I’m your education on this, you might as well be closer,” you laugh when he jumps up and all but runs to the seat.
You unzip your jumpsuit enough to slide your arms out, pulling the straps of your tanktop and bra down. You feel warm under his gaze, embarrassed already and you’re not even showing anything. He sits patiently, eyes excited and teeth digging into his lip. You swear you’ve never seen a man so thrilled to just look.
With a deep breath, you pull the fabric down so it bunches around your stomach, baring your breasts to him. His eyes go impossibly wider, his breathing speeding up as he takes in the sight. Look, you didn’t get them pierced to never show them off, that was like the whole point of having it done. But the way he tilts his head, studying the barbells framed by your plush skin, makes your stomach flip.
His fingers drum on the table, a quiet, “god,” falling from his lips. You laugh, “you’ve gotta say more than that,” you feel a little like an experiment under his microscope.
Finally, “do they hurt ever?” You shake your head, “they’ve been healed for years.” A short nod from him, then, “they really suit you.” He glances up at your face, smirk pulling at one side of his lips. You see his hand fist in his pants, see how he fights against the fabric to hold himself back, to maintain some semblance of professionalism.
You let out a small giggle, watching his eyes fly right back to your chest, watching how you move. “You’ve never seen any in person?” You ask quietly. He shakes his head, biting his lip again. “Go ahead, you can touch ‘em,” and you’re not sure where that came from but the look on his face tells you it was the right thing to say.
He searches your eyes quickly, finding you open and free of resistance, and slowly lifts his hand to cup your breast. Your breath hitches at how cold his fingers are, but then he strokes a thumb over your piercing and suddenly you feel incredibly warm. His other hand joins, nimble fingers holding the barbells and pulling lightly.
You make a sound, it’s quiet and completely involuntary, but it makes him grin. “Sensitive,” he whispers, “are they more sensitive after being pierced?” Ever the scientist, you think. “Not more, just… different.” Your answer satisfies him, his fingers brushing your skin softly before he pulls away.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you briefly wonder how it would feel against your nipples, if he’d like how the metal felt when he licked over the jewelry. Finally, he smiles at you, hands retreating to the safety of his lap. “Pretty,” he whispers, “the piercings are nice too,” he winks with a smirk, laughing when you glare at him and pull your top back up.
You push his shoulder, shoving him off his chair and shooing him to the other side of the table. He retreats easily, clearly having gotten what he wanted. “Well, was it everything you expected?” You ask lightly, glad for the easy comfort that settles over the room.
He twists his face in thought, like he’s puzzling over a new experiment. He nods, “I have some theories I’d like to test one day, but we can work up to it.”
Your jaw drops before you can stop it, “oh, you plan on seeing them again?”
The tips of his ears are bright red, but he plows on anyway. “Only if you let me,” and he leans back in his chair, closing his eyes with a sigh. “But I’m happy to just dream about them for a while.” And he laughs when you throw a stress ball at his head.
----------
i've been thinking about getting mine pierced for years, should I do it in my final year in my 20's? is this the kind of thing we do before we turn 30 for the sake of being hot?
✩ A/N: If there are any academic errors, please correct me. Just finished watching the movie, need this hot dork so bad.
✩ C/W: fingering, praise kink, pet names (kitten)
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.”
Can you please write something with Jason and a masochist submissive reader,who’s too shy to tell Jason about all her kinks and fetish
੭ synopsis. your roommate finds your spicy read and decides to do something about it.
warnings. 18+. roommate au. jason todd x fem! reader. shy reader. masochist!reader. slight impact play. sensation play. edging. choking if you squint.
an. this was fun to write (im bad at writing this dynamic), but thank you for the request anon. hope you like it <3
roommate!jason who is perfectly pleasant to live with. does his dishes, keeps his schedule, never touches your things.
except your book.
roommate!jason who picks up your book off the counter one saturday while you’re at work purely out of curiosity because you’ve been glued to it for two weeks and he wants to know what’s got you so hooked. reads four chapters. puts it back in the exact same spot.
he says nothing when you get home.
roommate!jason who holds it up two days later when you’re looking for it, completely calm, and watches your face do about seven things in three seconds.
“how much did you read,” you ask.
“enough,” he says.
roommate!jason who doesn’t tease you about it. doesn’t make it weird. just files it away and goes back to being your perfectly normal roommate who you now cannot look at directly.
roommate!jason who one thursday, during your weekly movie night, turns to look at you in the low light and says quietly “is that something you actually want. or just something you read about.”
and you actually stop breathing for a second.
“both,” you say finally. “i think.”
he nods. “okay.”
“okay?” you say.
“okay,” he agrees. and then adds “i’m going to kiss you. tell me if you don’t want me to.”
a beat passes. when you don’t say anything to stop him, he leans in.
roommate!jason who kisses you soft at first because that’s who he is. careful and steady and giving you every chance to change your mind.
and then his hand slides into your hair and grips and feels your breathing get heavier.
roommate!jason who walks you to your room and closes the door and pins your wrists above his head before you’ve even caught your breath. who holds them there and watches your face with dark eyes and when you test the grip, just slightly, just to feel it, he tightens it and says “don’t.”
roommate!jason who edges you until you’re squirming and desperate, lifting his hand from between your thighs every single time you move, saying “stay still, pretty girl” in that quiet unbothered voice until you want to scream, and then when you finally manage it rewards you in ways that make staying still very difficult.
roommate!jason who spanks you once, almost experimentally, and feels you go completely still beneath him and then watches the tension drain out of you, a content expression taking home on your face.
roommate!jason who disappears for a moment and comes back with ice from the kitchen and drags it slow down your spine just to feel you shiver and arch and make you whine, and does it again because he likes the sound.
roommate!jason who places the ice on your nipples and holds it there, and then lets it melt slow against your skin while he settles between your thighs and takes his time. he listens to the way your sounds change, a moan slipping out every few minutes, caught between the cold and his mouth, overwhelmed and unable to do anything about either.
roommate!jason who is so smug about all of it. just quietly, insufferably pleased with himself every time he finds a new reaction. “didn’t know you’d be like this,” he says against your throat, and you can feel him smile. “you’ve been holding out on me, sweet girl.”
roommate!jason who slides his other hand to your throat as you start to shake, fingers resting light against your pulse, the gentle press of his palm just enough to make your breath go shallow.
“look at me,” he murmurs. “hey. look at me.” fingers still thrusting slow and deep, waiting until your eyes find his.
“good girl.” his grip tightens just slightly at your throat, just for a second, just enough that everything goes hazy and bright at the edges. “can you come for me? be good and come for me, yeah?”
roommate!jason who feels you come, thighs clamping around his wrist, and loosens his grip on your throat immediately after. thumb stroking once at your pulse point.
jason todd is no coward. especially not in bed. he'd literally do anything and everything you ask, especially during sex.
he doesn't let anything get in the way of his personal time with you, so when you begrudgingly tell him you're on your period when he's already hovering over you, his boner pressing insistently against your thigh, he can't help the confused look that takes over his face.
"wha-" he also can't help but smirk at the sheer ridiculousness of you thinking a little blood is going to stop him from making you feel good. "baby..." he shakes his head, running his big fingers through your hair, "you think some blood's g'na scare me off?" he asks, "think i don't see that shit everyday, hm?" he speaks, pressing kisses to your the sensitive skin of your neck.
"s'gross, jay!" you whine, but you don't dare to stop him from nipping at your skin.
"angel, i really, really don't care" he says genuinely, somewhat fed up, and also somewhat offended that you think he could ever find you gross. "jus lemme make you feel good, honey," he already starts to work your shorts off, not caring to listen to anymore of your half-assed protests.
who are you to say no? especially when he's speaking oh so gently to you, and treating you with the most care when you're in such a fragile state.
before you know it, he's buried deep inside you and has you squirming underneath him, mewling in pleasure. "fuck!-" you squeak, every touch and every movement intensified to a degree that's overwhelming. he's moving in and out of you, his arm in between the two of you as he works at your clit restlessly.
"that feel good, baby?" he'll say, "fuuuck– you like that?" he purrs. he has no idea why you think this is gross, the blood only makes you warmer and wetter, in fact he prefers it.
his dick twitches violently inside of you whenever he looks down to see where the both of you are connected, his breath hitches at the sight of his shaft covered in blood and slick.
"s'not so gross now, huh?" he teases, a smirk that says he knows how good you feel right now, playing at his face. he's making you eat your words. "n-no jay!" you shake your head, your jaw slack as your orgasm approaches quickly. "yeah, that's right pretty" he coos, leaning down further to kiss you deeply, swallowing your moans and whimpers.
he feels himself grow closer as well, his balls tightening. it's only been about 10 minutes. he usually lasts much longer, but you're just so much wetter, yknow, given the circumstance.
you cum around his cock with a cry, and he reaches that peak right with you. after he spills his release deep inside of you, he just has to pull out to see his cum dripping out of you, the blood mixing with it. he swears he could cum again just from that.
he looks up at you, your eyes closed and your chest heaving as you lay there in a fucked-out state. but you can't deny your cramps have lifted. jason speaks,
in which, JASON TODD from the DCU can't turn you away after you've had a shitty date; especially when all you want is to get fucked right.
‧₊˚✩彡
includes: ex-boyfriend!jason todd x fem!reader, mature content (17+), exes -> lovers, mating press, dirty-talk, apology sex, jealous!jason, brief hair pulling (m. receiving), 1.2k words.
AFTER FAKING your second orgasm for the night, you had to call it quits. you had jumped out of bed, hurriedly throwing on your clothes, muttering something about work in the morning to your confused fling (some dude from a sketchy dating app-- a rebound, more than anything) before dashing out his front door. you had blocked his number before you had even reached the lobby of his apartment complex, finger stopping absentmindedly over your ex's contact: 'jt - DO NOT REPLY.'
gnawing on your lip, you caved; the low ache of your cunt too intense to ignore, and surely too insatiable to handle yourself. pressing on his contact begrudgingly, it was to no-one's surprise he picked up on the first ring.
"thought you said you didn't miss me, princess?"
you rolled your eyes, hailing a cab; gotham's night sky was thick with anticipation. "i don't," you had hissed, "i miss your dick; there's a difference."
jason had taken your words to heart-- you had barely had any time to peel off your jacket and shoes before big palms came to rest of your hips from behind, giving a good squeeze.
oh, how you had missed those hands.
now, they rested on the back of your calves-- legs spread and held forcefully by your head, jason fucked into you with passion. sweat pooled around his forehead, dripping down onto the bridge of his nose. "hah," he moaned, driving his cock in and out of your pussy intensely, "feel good?"
mascara was running down your face, streaks ruining the rest of your make-up. you sobbed-- his dick ramming into your g-spot over and over and over again. "shiit, jay," you whined, nails dragging down his lower stomach. your cunt fluttered around him, strangling him, as you watched him disappear inside you repeatedly. "yes, yesss, yes," you babbled, "feels s'good,"
jason grinned smugly, pulling his soaked cock out of you to grind the tip against your throbbing clit. "mhmm, i know baby," he hummed, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as the length of him brushed vehemently against your pussy. "bet he couldn't have made you feel this good."
even through your cock-drunken haze, you didn't miss the vitriol seeping from jason's words. your break-up had been messy-- a fight turned nasty (voices raised, glasses thrown, a fucking welfare check because your next-door neighbors had had enough)-- with no official end; just a simple, "fuck you," and "don't come back."
jason was bad at confrontation; all anger and sharp edges-- and you were bad at understanding why your boyfriend had to put himself in danger every night for the people of a permanently doomed city.
this was inevitable. both the break-up, and your inability to stay away-- especially as he entered back into you with an obscene squelch-- because you both were still very much in love.
"n-no," you stuttered, chin tilting backwards at the feeling of being stuffed again, "he couldn't. he didn't."
jason bottomed out easily, torso folding over yours so that you were chest-to-chest. the expanse of his broad shoulders held your legs spread, and he ran his lips across your neck frantically. "that's right," he groaned, grinding deeper. "nobody can fuck you as good as i can,"
your head was nodding automatically; a gasp echoed throughout his bedroom as you felt him suck onto the flesh of your throat needily.
jason continued, pulling himself from your neck with a pop. one of his hands sneaked between your sweat-slicked bodies and pressed hastily to your clit. "shiiit," he murmurs, feeling your pussy pulse at the stimulation, "jus' like how no one can make me feel as good as you do,"
you moaned at the confession, the honesty and vulnerability of it going straight to your cunt. "jason," his name tumbled from your mouth as you felt him begin to thrust again.
your ex mirrored you; the weight of your name on his lips with a devotion that made you sick. jason moaned, head diving into the crook of your neck.
"missed you-- fuuuck-- missed you so bad," like habit, one of your hands tangled itself within jason's dark locks, scratching at his scalp ever so slightly. you gave a good tug and jason whined, though there was a certain cockiness in his tone when he spoke.
"thought you jus' missed this dick, huh?" he smirked against your pulse-point, before pressing a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to it.
"i lied," you confess instantly, his cock driving into your sopping cunt, riiight where you wanted it, with a renewed intensity. "god-- jay, baby--"
the hand jason had holding your calf releases your lower leg, catching your free palm like instinct. your fingers intertwine, and he gives another good squeeze as if to say: i'm right here, i've got you, i love you so much, i missed you more than you know.
"i know," he adds through a groan, hips stuttering as his orgasm begins to creep up on him. "i-i'm sorry, so sorry, baby-girl," he says suddenly, still fucking into you. "didn't mean t-to get so-- oh fuck!-- so mad the other day, i know you jus' want me to be safe,"
"i know," you agree, eyes rolling into the back of your skull. your legs start to twitch even as jason presses them apart with his body-- and suddenly you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. "i- i'm close,"
"yeah?" jason's voice is low, hips rocking into yours so passionately, it feels like he's in your throat. "please," he gasps, "please, i'm sorry-- jus'- just cum around me, let me make you cum, make you feel good, as an apology," he's blabbering, chasing his own orgasm.
when you do cum, it's powerful. it steals the breath from your lungs, and your back is arching up into jason's chest with force. you can't even moan-- mouth falling silently open into an 'o' as your eyes flutter desperately. you're coating jason's cock with your slick by time you feel him twitch within you-- the man moaning breathlessly against the shell of your ear as a warning, before he pulls out and cums thick ropes all over your cunt and lower stomach.
his hips twitch, and the ghost of your name falls from his lips easily as jason attempts to catch his breath. "fuck," he groans softly, running a hand through his dampened hair.
your own chest is heaving-- skin sheen with sweat underneath the overhead lighting of his bedroom light.
there's silence between the both of you for what feels like an eternity; jason speaks first, leaning down again to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "come back home," he whispers.
fuck.
"n' delete that stupid fuckin' dating app. what d'you need it for when m'right here?" he mumbles lazily, albeit slightly frustrated, against your mouth.
"was tryna' get over you," you huff. despite your tone, you relax into the mattress and kiss him back.
"with weak dick?" he snickers. "right."
you can't hold back the giggle that escapes your mouth. "didn't say it worked."
jason continues to pepper kisses along your mouth, trailing downwards to your chin and jaw. "clearly," he states, voice low. his movements still, before he whispers, "missed you too."
PLUVOiA '25 ® - masterlist
loren's thots: ..this was meant to be a thirst (under 500 words) lmfao. its not even that fire, i jus hashtag NEED jason todd in me asappppp (reqs are open!!)
in which, JASON TODD from THE DCU breaks his habits just for you.
‧₊˚✩彡
includes: jason todd x fem!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, face-sitting, sub!jason, softdom!reader, mature content (17+), 0.7k words [drabble].
JASON TODD does not ask for permission.
he does not ask bruce to take the bat-mobile on nights he has patrol; he just does.
he does not ask dick to help him with a drug-bust mission, despite oracle having warned him about the danger risk; he just goes.
he does not go to tim when his helmet needs updating-- he tinkers with some of drake's tech and figures it out himself.
he does, however, ask you if he can eat you out until your hips and legs are twitching, and you’re certain you can’t take anymore.
his eyes are blown wide, and sweat barely pools at the edges of his hairline, and his voice is so sweet, so eager-- so unlike the jason todd anyone else knows. but he asks because it's you; and god, he'd be a fool not to ask if he can make love to you properly.
"please," he pleads, mouth parted so prettily, as he rests his head against a pillow on your shared bed. "can you sit on my face?"
your thighs twitch from where they're conveniently resting on either side of his head-- cunt throbbing as you imagine grinding against the bridge of his nose. you don't answer in words; instead lowering yourself down exactly where he wants you the most.
he moans as your pussy makes contact with his mouth, immediately pursing his lips around your clit and sucking. his palms find your thighs, giving them a good squeeze, as he continues to lap at your pussy. he's talking, probably muttering thank-you, holy shit, you taste s'good for me, in a pussy-drunken haze— but its muffled against your folds.
you swear you're seeing stars as he shoves his tongue past your hole, curling ever so slightly against your walls; "god, jay," hips bucking wildly as you desperately attempt to fuck yourself further onto his tongue.
he's groaning— his own arousal quickly escalating at the act of making you feel good; letting you use him. you give a tug to the front pieces of his hair, gripping tightly to anchor yourself on his face, and jason’s eyes roll into the back of his head.
his moans are steadily increasing in enthusiasm as he releases one of your thighs from his hand and reaches forward to press his thumb to your clit. the sensation of being tongue fucked and having your sensitive bud of nerves flicked back and forth makes you gasp— hips stuttering against your lover’s face.
“jay, fuck baby, jason,” variations of his name come out blubbering from your lips, hips rocking with a purpose now. “m’gonna cum, if you keep— shiiit— keep doin’ that,” despite your attempt at speaking coherently, jason alternates his fingers and tongue; he licks a long stripe from your hole to clit, before sticking two fingers inside you and curling. his tongue flattens against your clit over and over and over again, and you feel a deep knot begin to unravel within your gut.
jason feels your tight hole begin to flutter and clench around his digits, and without thinking, he’s nodding and mumbling mindlessly against your cunt. “yes,” he gasps. “please, cum on face, s’all i want, please,”
his tongue doesn’t let up as your orgasm hits you— you’ve fallen forward ever so slightly, gripping onto your headboard intensely as your pussy clenches and squelches beneath you. glancing backwards, you’re just in time to see jason’s hand shoved down his boxers— his hips buck upwards, chasing whatever friction he can get, and he gives himself a few hearty pumps before you watch his cum spill in pretty ropes along his stomach.
jason’s gasping beneath you, licking up every last drop of your orgasm like a starved man. when you finally slide back, sitting comfortably on his chest, you see his entire lower half of his face drenched in you. his freckles glisten beneath your slick, and he’s grinning up dumbly at you. “was it good?” he asks.
you snort. “if it wasn’t good, i don’t think i woulda cum all over your face like that.”
he hums, bringing his hands up to caress the sides of your body, fingers trailing gently along your ribs. jason’s face is flushed a deep pink, and he glances up at you through thick lashes, green irises still foggy with lust.
jason todd is a man who does not ask for permission; he knows what he wants and will not let someone else stop him from taking it.
beneath you, however, jason todd can’t help but ask— tongue darting outwards to lick his lips, tasting whatever residue you’ve left on his mouth. “please,” he whispers. “may i fuck you now?”
PLUVOiA '25 ® - masterlist
loren's thots: virgin jason / jason whos more subby in bed u r so important to me. dont get me wrong i looove when he can fuck-- but my mans was dead during all the years ppl typically learn to fuck and when he came back i douuuubt he was making it a priority lmfao so. (reqs are open!!)
"baby... s'okay" you coo at him, trying to speed up the process a bit.
he's on top of you, his eyes fluttering shut as he relishes in the sensation of you wrapped around his length, taking all of him. he's trying his absolute hardest not to bust right here, especially because he just bottomed out.
"i- i cant-" he takes strangled breaths, shaking his head and letting it fall down to rest on your bare chest. your hand instinctively comes up to meet him, running your fingers through his inky black hair. he leans into the contact.
"jay, im sure you won't cum if you just move a little" you try to bargain with him, the feeling of him just sitting inside you instead of pistoning in and out of you is becoming increasingly frustrating.
he wasn't even gone that long! maybe a month at most. some mission he was dragged away on. not a day went by that he didn't call or text you, going on and on about how much he missed you! how he wished it was your hand instead of his fucking his dick raw every night.
"y-you don't get it, baby..." he licks his lips, looking down at where the two of you are connected, then back up at your impatient face. "i jus- jus missed you so fucking much" he complains, leaning his head down to press soft, gentle kisses to your forehead, your eyelid, the tip of your nose, your cheek, and anywhere else he could reach.
you have to take your bottom lip in between your teeth in order to hold back a smirk. you've never seen him this pathetic.
you experimentally roll your hips against his. he lets out a loud groan, "fuck!" he reaches a hand down to grip your hip hard enough to bruise, his other hand staying at its position on the bed beside your head. "don't fucking- mfph!" he tries not to focus on just how tight and warm and wet you are compared to his hand.
you wince at his iron clutch on your hip. "jason!" you whine, "just move baby, please" you pout, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
he meets your gaze, "angel-" he whimpers, his head falling back down. you don't miss the feeling of wetness against your bare skin. is he seriously crying?
"honey..." you purr, "it's okay, i know you missed me" you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, making his breath hitch. "you've been so neglected, huh?" you ask patronizingly. he nods.
your sweet, soothing words are enough to make his balls tighten, sending him over the edge. who knew all it took was just a few words to make jason todd cum?
he lets out a soft, muffled moan against your skin as his hips buck into you, spilling warm sticky release deeeep inside of you.
"f-fuck!" he whimpers. he feels overwhelming embarrassment, lifting his head to look at you, tears still falling down his flushed cheeks. "m'sorry honey, m'so sorry" he shakes his head, hand traveling to the back of your head to bring it to rest in his palm.
you can't help but huff a laugh, "don't be sorry..." you speak gently. "we can go again, yeah?"
