I havenāt posted in a little while but hereās an idea Iāve been rolling around š based on my game where itās my male body 2 teifling and I romanced Wyll. A friend pointed out how Wyll is like two feet away when Halsin asks if you wanna bang it out with him and as much as I laughed I wished so bad Wyll could join in
At first the idea made Wyll nauseous, sick to his stomach even. Halsin being in camp was nice, his charm and enthusiasm made for great conversations. As you moved closer to Baldurs Gate, Wyll found himself setting up by Halsin subconsciously. It just always seemed to happen.
It was comfortable at this point, being on the road so long anything becoming familiar is a godsend.
One night as Wyll sat and read he heard Halsin call for you, not wanting to be nosy he kept to his book. Just because he deemed you a lover didnāt mean you werenāt allowed to speak to other men! That would be ridiculous.
But this man was Halsin.
Halsin who was undeniably a hunk of a man. Whose honesty about attraction and sexuality was both open and alluring.
How his strength displayed itself when fighting. Along side youā¦ how heād heal you every chance he got.
Heās heard Halsin complement you before. But it wasnāt about what he said that itched at Wyll, when youād walk away slightly flushed from the Druidā
It was what he didnāt say. How he left his intentions in the air, complementing you on your skill, your build, your bravery, your efforts. Things Wyll also loved about you.
What made his stomach flip was what he shouldnāt have heard. How Halsin praised you, how youāve helped him and itās made his heart soar. He especially shouldnāt have heard Halsinās proposition for you.
To share a night together, skin on skin under the stars.
āIāve already taken to someone Halsin. You do flatter me though.ā You laughed, just letting the idea roll off your back so casually. But it was stone in Wylls mind. Halsin and you being intimate, getting to see your battle scared body.
The same scars Wyll kissed and adored when he got to see you that way. It made his stomach burn.
āYou are bonded with Wyll body and soul. His scent lingers on your skin even now. If thereās anything to be between us, it must be with his consent.ā
Damn it all, he couldnāt even be truly mad at the mountain of a man for being considerate. But what began to move the stone was what came next.
āAnd perhaps someday, his participation.ā There was a feeling in Wylls stomach that was new. No longer an insecurity for being not at all like Halsin physically, but rather how the two of you were similar.
Both husky and large, how youād both speak gently to him and genuinely care for his stories. How if he stood between you two he would be sandwiched between beefy chests and strong armsā
Interesting.
āNow that you mention it Halsin, how do you feel of Wyll? Perhaps we share the same attractions.ā Wylls nails dug into the books pages in anticipation. If only he could see, but the shadows of both of you were all he was able to consume in the moment.
āWyll is an admirable hero. Dedicating his body and soul to keeping those safe is never an easy choice, but itās one he made and sticks to.ā There was a pause and Wyll felt flush hearing your words of agreement.
āIāve taken many in my time, none have made me stir quite like seeing you and Wyll fight along side each other. Itās like seeing two beings in their natural habitat.ā Halsin chuckled, a deep sound that vibrated Wylls very bones. āSeeing him fight those goblins and the magic in the air was incredible. And his lean body works magic on the loins.ā
āI do enjoy the idea of Wyll being showered with love by both of us, by the gods I doā¦ but he is fairly old fashioned.ā It was like a rubber band snapped against Wylls skin, you were right. Of course you were you knew him well!
But he liked the idea. A lot. And you didnāt know that, hells he didnāt even know he would either until the opportunity was actually in front of him. He felt like a fool being so flushed thinking of his lover and another man pleasing him.
You and halsin both wished each other a goodnight and camp fell into a calm quiet. You were walking back to your tent to sleep for the night and there Wyll sat. Perched on your bedroll, his eyes like a puppy as he looked up at you.
āHow must we go about planning something like that with Halsin?ā
I love the idea of the Eridians getting to observe the ādifferent mating gestures of humansā (love languages) with you, Grace, and Simon.
They notice that Grace is more vocal and active. He tends to hold you both more, say affirmations, and involving you in everything heās doing. Itās abundantly clear that he loves you from a mile away.
Meanwhile Simon is more quiet and subdued. Standing or sitting closely, soft lingering touches and stares, and quietly checking up on you to see if youāre relaxed and content.
Itās like night and day but somehow they just know that these are both displays of love even if they donāt understand how it works.
Oh no doubt all of you give each other little headbutts. Thatās like the one commonality the Eridians have found and itās documented in the biology notes
Bloodymary x reader with a very thick southern accent and the full mannerisms of speaking. This isnāt about the farm au btw I just like the idea of us being an astronaut but we just sound sooo southern.
āOh, donāt go beatenā yāurself up about not knowinā everythinā, Si-hunny. Yāur plenty smart!ā
āRocky-baby, I donāt think thatās a good idea. Yāur fixinā to get yāurself hurt, now.ā
āGraceā¦ I know you got āur doctorate and all thatā¦ but yāur blond is cominā out righā now.ā
I justā¦ idk Iāve recently been saying things like a southern woman as a vocal stim and itās just got me thinking about this
Iām sure they can understand when youāre just talking to them, might take them a second to fully register it but they can understand what youāre saying. But when you start using mannerisms and metaphorical phrases, they get a bit confused. It takes them a while and maybe youāll have to explain it to them. Like if you say āFixinā to eat.ā it takes them a second to realize youāre saying that youāre hungry. But they get there and pretty soon theyāre able to understand you pretty well.
It still blind sides them when you find new ways to call them all stupid though. It takes them a minute before they realize what you just said and theyāre like āHey!ā
āWell, Iā got a scientist, a livinā rock, nā an ex-convict thatās turnā nāto a fish. But at the rate weāre goinā, I think a plank aā wood outta have a brightār idea than the rest oā yāall!ā
I got inspired by this tweet I saw. Shout out these guys š
Anyways hereās a little drabble :3
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Grading was the last thing on Rylands mind. He had stayed late to try and at least achieve some sort of dent in the pile of students lab assignments on his desk, but it seems you had other plans for this late Friday evening.
Rylands hands are gripping tightly on the shelves around you both, panting against the palm of your hand. His hips jerk forward, stuttering and barely able to keep his knees from buckling underneath himself. He lets out a whimper from underneath your hand, eyes rolling back at the pleasure youāre giving him. You shush him softly, feeling the breath from his nostrils on the tops of your fingers.
Behind him, you rest your chin on his shoulder, whispering into his ear, āCāmon Mr. Graceā¦.you would want anyone to hear you, would you?ā
A quick little whine in response is muffled from beneath your hand. The only other sound filling the small, cramped janitors closet you had pulled him into being the slick sound of your other hand jerking him off. His pants were only unzipped far enough for you to pull his cock out, so both of you were still fully clothed.
You both knew that at this time of day at the middle school it would just be you two, as most of the cleaning staff had also gone home at this point. But, the idea of someone catching you seemed to really get Ryland going. You had pulled him in by his tie, tugging him into the janitors closet the moment he walked past.
You pause your motions to run your thumb across the sensitive red tip of his cock, spreading the pre-cum that had continued to spill. This elicits yet another muffled whimper from the man as he tries to buck up into your hand, desperate for you to continue jerking him off.
You tsk at him, leaning your head to the side to whisper into his ear. āYouāre being so good for me Ryā¦such a good boyā¦ā you say, breathing hot air against his ear. The sensation of it weakens his knees and he lets out another whimper at the sudden increased movement from your hand, slick with pre-cum.
With your chin back on his shoulder, you can see his face. His hair is a mess, sticking up on random spot. Sweat beads along his forehead, daring to drip down onto his flushed cheeks. His glasses sit askew, almost falling off if it werenāt for your hand right beneath his nose. His eyes are slightly open and rolled back, relishing in the pleasure youāre providing. He looked absolutely delicious.
His dick throbbed within your grasp, twitching as he got closer and closer to his climax. Additionally, he got more fidgety, hand moving from a death grip on the shelf to hold onto the arm over his mouth. His knees threatened to give out from beneath himself, leaning back into you for support.
His muffled moans and whimpers ramped up, getting louder and more frequent the closer he got.
Finally, he lets out the loudest groan yet, shuffling and twitching beneath you as ropes of white cover the back of the janitor door and your hand. His hips buck up into you at the slight overstimulation as you work him through his orgasm. His chest heaves, out of breath, slowly coming back from his arousal-driven haze.
You finally quit your ministrations the moment he begins to whine from the overstimulation. You take your hand off of his mouth and he pants breathlessly, satisfied to be able to breath properly.
His hands grip onto the shelves once again to hold himself up, and he lets out a long, shaky breath, shoving his limp cock back into his pants.
You look around the closet and find some paper towels to clean off your hand. Once he catches his breath, he turns around and faces you. His mouth covered with drool from when your hand covered his mouth.
āā¦Iā¦I might need those tooā¦ā He states softly, motioning towards his mouth and the few drops that spilt onto what were his favorite pants, which hopefully wouldnāt stain.
You let out a chuckle, using a paper towel and wiping his face off. He lets out an embarrassed smile and take the paper towel from you once your done and wiping his pants off.
āWe are definitely doing this again, just so you know.ā You say reaching around him to wipe down the door.
His dick throbs at the notion, slowly hardening once more as an idea comes to mind.
All āRocky doesnāt know what periods are and thinks their bad biological engineeringā jokes aside. I feel like Rocky would, with his brief understanding from what you and Grace told him, see Grace taking care of you when youāre in really rough shape and think
āGrace may be dumb, but is very good mate. Makes comfortable nest for vulnerable mate and tend to them. Very good. Very cute.ā
Pervert Grace my beloved. I love all forms of it but I especially love the type where heās embarrassed by it and you willingly enable him.
Heās literally on his knees and begging for it like a dog that really wants a treat and you teasingly call him a pervert only for him to let out the most pathetic yet sluttiest whine known to man.
Pairing ~ Ryland Grace x Transmasc!Medic!Reader [x Simon later]
Summary ~ Three patients, two failures, and a saving grace.
A/N ~ who's ready for probably inaccurate medical nonse! This one's a long one augh
CW ~ author pretends he knows med, talk and use of medical drugs
Alerts wrang themselves wrong in your mind, tripping down ladders and back to the medical deck where the three other patients lie. You looked to the large, robotic arm, the source of the alarms as it moved itself over the captain.
"Captain YƔo Li-Jie; blood pressure 182/127. Experiencing hypertensive encephalopathy, " it beeped in a polite tone that was almost rude given the situation. Still, with it's single limb, it seemed to be strangely focused on the left of the captain. You tried to get a better look on why, exactly, while sightlesly swiping for the thick medical textbook you had placed near.
"What? How would he-!?" You bit yourself off, cringing at the way your voice cracked despite knowing your panic was doing nothing to help. "Okay- redundant. How do we treat it?"
The robotic arm still fiddled with the many connected wires, keeping it's interest on whatever was going on with YƔo's face. "Lower the blood pressure!" It chirped all-too-happily. Okay, it had to be messing with you, at least a little bit. Could it even do that?
"Shouldn't you be-?" Snapping, though biting your tongue again before moving to see what it was doing. It half-heartedly let itself be shoved away, though it felt too easy for what was supposedly meant to be a medically designed robot. Maybe it was waiting for you to take over, the bold 'Medic' patch stared across the chest of your jumpsuit, after all.
Taking in the unconscious sight of your captain's face, nothing really stood out to you. Opening his eyes and checking his pupils on a mindless reaction, though, revealed to you a single blown pupil and cloudy red taking over where the white was meant to be. You bit your lip stepping back, now noticing the slight twitches and tremors that toyed with his body.
"Fuck- okay," you thought aloud, slipping over to the heavy book and flipping through it while the armature took back over on... whatever it was doing. Thankfully, the textbook worked similar to a guide with everything marked alphabetically. What did it say? Hypertension ed- something? Frustratingly blanking on how to act or even remember the given diagnosis, you searched for the wording while racking your brain for any help. You couldn't recall the other word, but hypertension you knew; elevated blood pressure. Based on the supplied BP rating, too, the captain wasn't getting enough rest against the systolic pressure. Woah. Okay. Those were words you knew.
"Robot- arm... thing. Fuck, I've gotta give you a name- what do we have to treat hypertension?" You directed, eyes still droning over word after word after word. Hopefully you could trust it was programmed well enough that you didn't meed to treat it like an intern. What was it even doing with that eye? The popped blood vessel? That shouldn't take priority, even if he may go blind in that eye, survival takes top- though, if the vessel popped which was that connected or leaking to the brain or near the cerebral cortex-
"We have an assortment of medications! Including: diuretics, beta-blockers, ACE inhibitors, vasodilators, calcium channel blockers..."
You winced as it began listening big words, which didn't clash well while also trying to read big words. Choosing to dismiss the book in trade for listening to what was on hand, you attempted to remember what any of these medications could/would do. Sadly, though, it was all another mesh of mumbo jumbo.
"Stars, okay, uhm-" struggling, you said the first medication that sounded alright. Yeah, that probably made you a horrible, horrible medical professional, but you were an amnesiac doctor shot out into space. Sue you. "ACE inhibitors help relax the- the blood stream or something, right? Administer that."
"Administering 1.25 milligrams Enalaprilat!" The machine whirred too happily for your liking. It felt sick, a deep part of your mind ushered, the way you were guesses with no evidence and this robot was simply following. Like it was some silly 'we'll seee~!' game instead of you possibly killing your captain.
Choking down an acidic taste in your mouth, your hands tap-tap-tapped over themselves as you watched a fluid rush down from something hidden away near the armature's base and into a needle tucked into the intravenous vein of Captain YƔo.
"When- when does it take onset?" You griped out, eyes nervously tracing the way the other man's body still teased with minor tremors that seemed to be fighting itself.
The robot swiveled to you in a surprisingly quick movement, a bit unnerving how it stared with just one single, large 'eye'. "Circa 15-30 minutes, Medical Offic-"
"What?! No, he needs- why did you use a slow-acting medication?" Your body flared with something between heat and nausea, pushing off the counter just to allow your body to move. "Why did you let me advise that? Why didn't you stop me, or- or recommend something better?"
"All direct orders by the Chief Medical Officiant are to be followed and carried out!" The armature beeped happily, as if quoting something exact it had been taught. Fuck, it probably had been programmed that way. Or else, why would they need you? "You gave a direct order, and I have delivered!"
"Fucking-! Okay. Whatever, okay, let's see," frustration wrapped itself around your mind while you ignored the guilt that only settled deeper in your gut. So, obviously stupid move. But it was done, so what more could you do?
"Can't give another treatment without risking a bad mix up or overdose- gosh, I don't even know what the first medication could've done." You ran your hands through your hair, momentarily tugging at it before shoving your hands away from yourself as if you weren't in control of them. "Okay. We- we'll just have to wait for the medicine to kick in. Uhm, in the meantime, what did you find in his eye? You were too focused on it for it to be nothing." 'Or you're just stupid,' you thought, biting your tongue instead because too many books had taught you it wasn't a good move to be rude to an machine.
"Captain YƔo Li-Jie has a retinal haemorrhage and a blown pupil in the right eye," the nameless robot supplied. That chipper, patient tone slightly grated at you still, but in all fairness, you were all nerves right now.
You paused on that, mixing around the symptoms and showcase of issues in your captain. Hypertension, ACE inhibitors given, retinal haemorrhage and a blown pupil on the right. "Only the right eye? Left eye shows no symptoms or, anything?"
"Left eye remains in good condition," the armature confirmed. You really needed to name this guy if you were gonna keep treating it like a medical assistant. Which, technically, it was.
"Alright. Strange. Wonderful. What does that tell us?" You murmured to mainly yourself, absent-mindedly tapping your fingers against your lips. "A single blown pupil could be..." you bit out a quiet 'tsk', quickly moving on. "'Kay, I don't know right now. But a retinal haemorrhage- what is that, a burst in the back of the eye, right?"
Scrolling back over to the thick textbook, you half-heartedly listened to the robot's chipper confirmation and tried not to settle on the on-going shivers and twitches that ran over Captain YƔo's still unconscious body.
"M'kayyyy it's easily likely it's a damage caused by the hypertension. The retina would usually repair itself- of course, likely permanent damage to the sight. Some sort of LASIK or whatever could probably fix it quickly, but I doubt you're equipped with such tech," you ranted mindlessly, tracing over the page which directed for retinal issues. Not too much listed in treatments factoring in the hypertension, either, so that wasn't a huge help. You bit at your lip, tilting your head in a moment of consideration before speaking up once more. "Uhmm, give Captain YƔo a boost in supplemental vitamins. A, B and E." You paused a moment, trying to sort out which of the vast arrays of definetly-not-confusing supplements did what. "Hold back on the A and E; say, 400 units to start?"
"Administering low dosages of vitamins A and E," the machine hummed, your eyes tracing the fluids through the IV. A bit odd, you watched. You technically couldn't access the actual IV and other needles and whatnot connected to the three comatose patients. Did that not pose any problem to the designers? What if the ship lost power, or it starting acting up? Were there spare, manual equipment you could use? "How many units for the vitamen B? What kind?"
The robot's polite voice brought you out, internally sighing. Right. Vitamen B was stupidly complicated. Pinching the nose of your bridge, as if that would help. Again, not much of recollection came up. Some medic you were.
"Ughhhhh gimme a moment," you droned, dragging back over to the heavy medical textbook and flipping through the pages until you found something to help. "I'm gonna sayyyy~ B2, B9, B12. 1.2 milligrams for B2, 400 micrograms for B9, and 2.4 micrograms for B12."
"Administering 1.2mg of B2, 400mcg pf B9, and 2.4mcg of B12," the- still nameless- assistant repeated back while you wrote it down on the patient chart you had made for Captain YƔo. You looked back up to the unconscious body of your captain, noting that the tremors had gone down in both frequency and intensity. You wrote it down, but also faintly wondered if it was any use, since there was no real concept of time out here in space. Well. There probably was. Regardless, you didn't know of it.
"Okay," you sighed, the word dragging out as you rubbed the pen above your eye. Lingering on the sight of Captain YƔo as your mind fogged with a biting feeling of... something. Maybe on the edge of a memory, or maybe subconsciously knowing you fumbled a step in the procedure. 'Well, I already knew that,' you argued with your own thoughts. Maybe you ought to start a patient chart on yourself.
"Thereeeeee's not a ton left to do but wait? I think?" Grimacing lightly, rapping your knuckles against the huge book you should probably be studying, given your foggy recollection. A part of you hoped the other three astronauts would hurry and wake up already, while another part wished you could remember and put yourself together before you had to face any of them.
You sighed, setting the patient chart down and taking one last, final look at the three comatose astronauts. Then, forcing your gaze away and to the exit of the medical bay. "I'm... I'm gonna go sleep. Alert me if his stats go down again, or- any change in any of them, for that matter."
Pairing ~ Ryland Grace x Transmasc!Medic!Reader [x Simon later]
Summary ~ Waking up alone on the Hail Mary with an iffy memory and a patch describing you the assigned medic was... not the most comforting thing. Still, you felt you owed it in some way to try to care for even what may just be bodies.
A/N ~ Another Bloodymary x Reader. Can you tell i like writing these. Casual transmasc readerāļøāļøAlso Medic reader. Yay.
CW ~ i am NOT a doctor, just a boy who researches and pretends to know stuff. Reader is on t but hasn't had top/bottom surgery, reader wears a binder, mild dysphoria,
You had been waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting. For how long, you couldn't say. Tried not to think too hard about it. Tried not to count by days that detailed just how long you had been alone, clueless and sent as an aid for astronauts who were no longer... well. Were possibly no longer able to wake up.
Was it cowardly, the way you didn't do or try much of anything? Maybe. You doubted yourself often over it, staring out through a large, circular bubble that separared you and the vastness of space. Why had they sent you, of all available options? Had you volunteered? Were you worth the space on this suicide trip? Should you try to turn back while you still could, as none of the other three- the actually useful components of the mission- seemed to show signs of waking up. Ever.
Still, you checked them each day, despite knowing if something were to really go wrong, there was limited you could do. Taking notes and reviewing the few medical textbooks that had been stored away in a medical bag you found. Starting patient charts and relearning medicine. With help of the lurking, robotic armature, of course.
Captain YƔo Li-Jie. Good resting heart rate, according to the armature, with a BP of 116/79. You couldn't tell if his breathing was fine, since most of the work was done for him, but you supposed whatever kept him alive was good. Scoring a low of E1V1M1 on the GCS. You pursued your lips at the final documentation, wondering if you had performed some part of it wrong. Trying to sooth yourself over, though, you considered it was a medically induced coma by... what was her name? Statt? It was fuzzy, but you remember a somewhat uptight feeling abiut her. It was a deep coma for good reason.
Engineer Olesya Ilyukhina. Looking at her too-peaceful body felt wrong in a way you couldn't yet place. A piece of your mind still seemed to remember her, though as soon as you tried to recall further than that, the memory dissipated.
Resting heart rate, fine, BP 110/76. Scoring just a bump above with E1V1M2, the back of your mind wondered if the Statt lady had used the same type of sedative on everyone and just hoping it worked out fine, or if there were some differences in what was administered. Then again, did it really matter? Would variations in the sedations impact anything? Was it even worth it to be wondering about?
Shaking your thoughts out of it and moving on to- checking with the armature- Scientist Ryland Grace. 'Fitting,' you mused quietly and moving to make a patient chart for him. Acting as if you knew what you were doing. 'A guy named Grace on the Hail Mary. Was that on purpose?'
Heart rate felt fainter than the other two, but otherwise alright, with a BP 119/72. GCS score of, surprise surprise, E1V1M1. Again.
Great. Awesome. Just have to do that everyday in this odd silence- with occasional beeping- and hope nothing goes wrong while you're not looking. So... what did that leave? If you were being brutally honest, there was a fighting chance none of them would even wake up. Where would that leave you? Letting your mind decay and pretending you'd be fine while struggling to recall your own name.
Obviously, you explored more. Not that there were a ton of other choices. Crawling up way too many ladders for your liking and discovering large rooms that would've felt welcoming if not for the disturbing blankness of it. A huge lab you're half tempted to operate. A tunnel bursting with buttons and radars and scanners with two seats centered. A dome covered in screens that startled you when it unwarningly flicked to a close-up of a spider monkey. It's only when you find a storage room and a thick bag with your name written in messy lettering that you finally let yourself pause. You had sort of pushed away the morally confusing questions of 'who am I?' and 'what am I like?', it only resurfacing now. You were so focused on trying to help the other astronauts in their almost mindless state that it hadn't even occurred to you that it's possible to have a middle name.
Your luggage was scratched at the corners, with a few sewn on patches that suggested this was your personal bag. Rather than the vaguely corporate matching cases the other three had. Unzipping it with only a bit of struggle, the top flipped open as if finally letting go a heavy breath of relief. The first thing you saw was a heavy, squished-in, earth coloured blanket.
Honestly? A little bit of a let down most of your huge suitcase consisted of a big, heavy blanket. But, you supposed, as you tugged it over yoru shoulders, it was really comfortable.
Moving past that, though, there were a lot of little trinkets beneath it. A small stack of various sized photos, held together by a faded blue rubber band. You allowed yourself a moment to brush against the smooth lamination of the pictures, rolling the rubber band down your wrist as you slowly whisked through the photographs. Many of them depicted you and what you could only guess to be your close friends. Grinning stupidly and often bunched together as if it physically pained any of you to be away. There were a good lot of them, but it was all the same faces, sorted so you could slowly notice the changes as the lot of you grew older. It was bittersweet, really, knowing you had- at some point- great friends you seemed to adore. Yet, you couldn't find it within yourself to remember any of their names. You found yourself lingering hard on their faces, as if staring would earn you the gift of recollection.
You pulled yourself away, eventually, sifting through a few books of more medical jargon. Lifting out a small, folded up though oddly lumpy cloth, wondering whatever could be held in such a thing. Just about the size of your palm. Unrolling it, though, revealed a few wraps of different coloured string, as well as a couple of safety tucked needles. Ah. A sewing repair kit. Right. Why would you pack that?
Even as you, admittedly, ignored them out of mild boredom, you were grateful to find you had packed a few sets of clothes. Your own style [as deemed appropriate by Statt- oh! Stratt. Not Statt], as the stars would grant mercy on you. Wonderful. Because the astronaut jumpsuit you and the other three folk were put it was cute, in terms of matching, but it was starting to smell. You didn't linger on how long you had possibly worn it, much less the trio still in coma.
Changing, as you had expected, felt really nice. Fresh. Yet, nervous at the same time. Even when you knew there was no one else even conscious on the ship, not to mention near you, you had limited yourself to a small corner. Taking off the jumpsuit felt incriminating in some odd way, yet- as you momentarily struggled to fit it on- everything felt much more alright after you put on this tight half-top you'd found. You couldn't really describe it, it was just... right. More you.
It was unnerving to let yourself settle on feelings like that, though- discomfort for a reason you drew blanks on. Why would you feel like a fraudful man? Questions for another day, because your fog of thought was cut short by a high beeping that some still-trained part of you had embedded to hear with dread.
another teacher grace moment i love is when rocky gives him the oxygen model he goes 'i dont have one of these thank you!' like that is THE most teacher response ever when a child gives them something utterly incomprehensible but made with love
pairing: Ryland Grace x Gn!reader
words: 900 words
warnings: none baby this is pure fluff from fluff land blessed by lord fluffsworth. fuh-lufffffffff. context tho: you're in space with him
a/n: This was small as heck and i wrote it on my phone but I HAD TO GET IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM. THIS MAN. OH MY GOD
Contrary to what someone who has never been to space might believe, being stranded light-years away from home with nothing to do except wait for an extended period of time gets boring after a while. Sure, the wonders never cease; it is space, after all, but at some point, you go into the "this might as well happen" zone. And there's no coming back from that one.
Which is how you were currently in the projection deck, eating a delicious tube of 'Day 294 - Meal 3', watching your third cheesy romcom of the day with one Dr Ryland Grace.
Ever the gentleman, Ryland didn't bat an eye when you slowly leaned into him sometime around romcom 2. Sure, he was freaking out on the inside, but he chalked it up to the fact that you were the only other person in a 12 light-year radius; of course, he would be thrown off by a little contact.
He had to test the waters, though. After all, he was a scientist. Yeah. It was for science. Eventually, he moved his arm to rest around you, ever so carefully. So gentle, and very obviously nervous and unsure, and in all honesty, so adorable you wanted to laugh. You eased his nerves by leaning into him more, and Ryland could swear that if you were silent enough, you could hear his soul leaving his body.
As time went on, you got more and more comfortable with each other, and by romcom 3 (i.e., the present), you were lying down on his lap, and he was haphazardly leaning on the makeshift "couch" you had made around week 6 with whatever bags and other junk were lying around.
This was uncharted territory. Literally, you were in space, that's as uncharted as it gets. But yes, in the figurative sense as well. Both your eyes were glued to the screens, but your focus on whatever was playing was long gone.
Ryland was hyperaware of the fact that your head was on his lap, and he was practising insane levels of self-control by not reaching out and running his fingers through your hair. It was right there. He could if he wanted to. It wouldn't even be much of an effort. No, no, he can't. He shouldn't. Should he? He could, right? I mean, friends stroke each other's hair all the time. Maybe. Do they? They probably do. God knows what's normal on Earth right now.
The movie was long forgotten at this point. To Ryland, it was white noise and the occasional laugh from you that made him feel something he doesn't even want to define. He did what any rational, normal person would do in such a predicament: Pros and Cons list of stroking your friend's hair.
Pros:
Pros: ...
Okay.
So, seemingly, there are no pros to this other than the fact that he really, reallllllly wants to.
Cons: This would make things really weird between the two of you if only one person were into it. You could have a thing about your hair where you don't like it if someone touches it. You could genuinely be disgusted with him at the fact that he so catastrophically misread the signs to the extent that he may have to jettison his ass into outer space.
Well.
It's a good thing Ryland Grace is anything but rational when it comes to you.
His hand trembled as he slowly lowered it towards your head. He was having a million second thoughts, his conscience already ready to berate him about this later. He hoped he wasn't breathing as loud as he thought, and he prayed to all the gods he knew that you couldn't hear his heartbeat, because he could hear it loud and clear from inside his head. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, despite the centralised air conditioning. This was it. T-minus 3 seconds.
3...
2...
1ā
"What Grace doing, question?"
"Gahā"
You both pulled away from each other like you had been caught in the middle of something unspeakable. You sat up so fast, one would think Ryland's legs were on fire. He retreated his hand, near Mach 15 speed, and nonchalantly pointed at the "night sky" on the projection deck, as though he were counting stars.
"Oh, hey buddy, didn't see you there," he tried to manage.
"What Grace and (Y/n) doing, question?" he inquired again, ever the curious.
"We were just watching a movie. Nothing much. Just... there was a movie, and we were watching it. That's it. Movie was being watched. By us. Just a couple... Movie watchers." Real smooth, Ryland Grace.
Silence. Unbearable, lethal silence. Ryland's eyes were closed in deep contemplation, running through what he just said. His face scrunched in regret. Rocky stayed still, which was worse than if he were moving, because this stance meant he was judging. Hard. And you? You didn't even know what to make of all of this. Jesus Christ.
"I'm gonna go check on theā" you started.
"Yeah, yeah. Absolutely. Of course," he interrupted.
"...Right. So I'll justā"
"Yeah, no, yeah. Go save the... world," He called after you as you left the projection deck, his voice trailing as he regretted every single thing that left his mouth in real time.
In my vampiric alien au I have it that the readerās planet just happens to have sources of blood that come from the planet itself. Sort of like a hydrothermal vent and the animals that feed off of them situation where itās not blood coming from a body or organism but just something that the planet can make and your kindsā evolved to make that your main food source.
But imagine if it wasnāt and your planet actually has prey animals that you feed off of simply for the blood and you guys still actively have a drive to hunt for your meals? And you explain that the only reason it hasnāt kicked in when meeting Grace was because you saw that he was shaped like your kind and that made you not likely to eat him.
All this to say what if Grace wanted you to hunt him just a little?? In a freaky way.
Thinking about a scenario with a chubby reader where Rocky says something like ā(Name) wider and heavier than Grace and human diagrams, statement.ā. Which you have to agree with because you are.
But when Grace scolds him Rocky just fully goes āRocky not being rude. On Erid, bigger and heavier mate is ideal because can defend and insulate clutch better. Very sought after. Many Eridians fight with others to mate with. Rocky giving compliment, statement.ā.
And then Grace gets even more pissed because heās been trying to compliment you and say that he likes your body type this whole time but couldnāt work up the courage only for Rocky to basically start hitting on you first.
āGrace is coward. Rocky will take mate if donāt make move first. Rocky take adequate care of instead. Rocky do better.ā
Like just fully telling Grace that if he doesnāt go for it heās gonna take his bitch. Like they arenāt all about to become a polycule with Adrian once they get to Erid. He just likes to piss Grace off. He doesnāt have a face but I just know heād have the most smug look when Grace sees him and reader cuddling together.
ā(Name) Rocky keep each other warm. Very nice. Grace miss out, statement.ā
