Gentle Monday 🤍
what if... l Ryland Grace
Ryland Grace x Reader
warnings : a rush of thoughts; lots of unspoken words that eventually get said; indecent thoughts; a bit of kissing?
note : when thoughts take over your body, but you are not alone in this
[Ryland Grace masterlist][main masterlist] [gentle monday series]
Artificial night had settled over the Hail Mary hours ago and now most of the ship was dark, lit only by dim strips of amber lighting along the floor and the soft glow of monitors inside the lab. Ryland sat alone at one of the consoles pretending very hard to work. Numbers blurred together on the screen while his brain remained catastrophically occupied with thoughts it absolutely should not be having.
Specifically: you. Again.
Nights were the worst. That was when his thoughts stopped listening to reason and took over completely. He rubbed tiredly at his face.
“Jesus Christ, Grace,” he muttered under his breath.
This was getting embarrassing, because it wasn’t even anything dramatic. You hadn’t kissed him. Hadn’t flirted intentionally. Hadn’t done anything except exist near him in ways his stupid brain apparently found devastating. The problem was the little things.
The way you leaned against doorframes while talking to him late at night. The way your voice softened when you got tired. The absentminded touches to his arm during conversations like physical affection with him was the most natural thing in the world. The way you sometimes looked at him.
Ryland was doomed. And he knew it.
He stared blankly at the monitor again, trying to focus on astrophage data instead of wondering what it would feel like if you fell asleep against his chest. Your body would be warm, your breathing slow and steady. Maybe he'd be able to feel your heartbeat. A strange feeling twisted deep inside him.
Bad. Terrible. Inappropriate.
His stomach twisted. Because the worst part? Sometimes he thought you trusted him enough that if he reached for you… you might actually let him. That thought alone made guilt crawl up his spine immediately. He shouldn't have been thinking things like that.
You were his friend and his partner. The only other human being for light years. Trapped with him inside this metal can in the middle of nowhere. You were supposed to be safe with him. And meanwhile Ryland was over here imagining the warmth of your hands against his skin at two in the morning like a complete disaster.
He exhaled sharply. Nope. Absolutely not.
“Focus, Grace. Focus.”
The lab doors slid open quietly behind him. And Ryland nearly launched himself out of his chair. You blinked at him sleepily, your hair a mess. You couldn't have been awake for more than a few minutes.
“Okay. That reaction was... weird.” You smiled faintly.
“Oh my God,” Ryland breathed, hand over his chest. “You can’t sneak up on people in space.”
“Relax, Grace. It's not a Xenomorph or anything.” A mischievous grin flashed across your face. You were wearing one of those oversized sweaters that always made Ryland’s brain stop functioning correctly.
Sometimes he wondered if you wore them on purpose because some subconscious part of you knew exactly what they did to him.
“You okay?” you asked softly.
“Fantastic,” he lied instantly.
Your eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re here alone talking to a monitor at two in the morning. It sounded a little emotional for working.”
Ryland looked away immediately. If he ignored that comment hard enough, maybe you'd let it go. You wandered closer anyway, carrying one of the ship’s terrible coffee pouches in your hand before settling beside him at the console.
Too close. Your shoulder brushed his lightly. Ryland forgot every language he’d ever spoken. How this kept happening, he had absolutely no idea.
“So,” you murmured sleepily, glancing at the screen, “are we saving humanity or having a breakdown tonight?”
“Can we do both?”
“Of course. Both sound pretty tempting.” A soft laugh escaped you and there it was again.
That warm ache in his chest. That horrible, wonderful feeling that filled him as if he were a teenager all over again. You smelled faintly like soap and recycled ship air and something entirely, uniquely you. Ryland became painfully aware of every inch separating your bodies. His pulse stumbled hard.
You turned your head toward him at the exact wrong moment, suddenly very close now in the dim light. And you had to notice something was wrong with him. You were smart. Observant.
“Ryland?”
Oh no. Bad. Very bad.
You were looking at him with sleepy concern, completely unaware of the catastrophic spiral happening in his head. He could kiss you right now. The thought arrived so suddenly it almost knocked the air out of him. Now. And the truly horrifying part? He thought maybe you’d let him. He could practically see it playing out in his imagination already...
Ryland pulled back so quickly that his chair scraped sharply against the floor. You blinked in surprise.
“Did I do something?”
God. Immediately guilt flooded him so hard it made his stomach hurt.
“No.” he said too fast. “No, you didn’t do anything.”
Your expression softened with confusion. “Then why are you looking at me like I caught you committing a crime?”
Because it felt like one. Because every soft thing he wanted from you felt dangerous in the small loneliness of space. Because sometimes at night Ryland imagined touching you with such terrifying tenderness it made him feel guilty afterward. Because he imagined you, the two of you, in situations that left him breathless… He laughed weakly under his breath, scrubbing both hands over his face.
“Do you ever have thoughts so embarrassing your brain should legally apologize to you?”
“Sometimes,” you answered, and somehow he could tell you were telling the truth.
“That’s reassuring.”
You studied him quietly for another moment. “Ryland...” The softness in your voice nearly killed him instantly. “You know you can tell me if something’s wrong, right?”
He looked at you then. At your tired eyes, your concern. How instinctively kind you always were with him. And suddenly the guilt became almost unbearable because God… He wanted too much. Not just kissing you. Everything.
He wanted sleepy mornings with you. Wanted your legs tangled together under blankets. Wanted to hear you laugh beside him for the rest of his life. He was always wanting more, but every day he pretended that friendship was enough. It wasn't. He was greedy for everything that had anything to do with you.
Ryland swallowed hard. “You’re gonna make me insane,” he admitted quietly before he could stop himself.
Your breath caught slightly and the room went still. Even the ship seemed quieter around you. As if everything had paused for a few heartbeats.
“Ryland…” you whispered carefully.
He immediately panicked. “Okay, wow, ignore that. That sounded significantly more emotionally revealing than intended.”
But you were still looking softly at him. And Ryland suddenly realized with absolute terror… Maybe he wasn’t the only one thinking dangerous thoughts in the dark.
Ryland wished desperately that he could take the words back. Not because they weren’t true. That was the problem - they were too true.
The lab suddenly felt unbearably small around both of you, dim monitor light reflecting softly across your face while you kept looking at him like you were trying to understand something fragile.
“Ryland…” you repeated his name quietly.
His pulse was so loud he was convinced the entire ship could hear it.
“Nope,” he said quickly, standing too fast again. “Actually, let’s all collectively pretend I didn’t say that.”
You blinked up at him from the chair, surprised. “Why?”
“Because.” He gestured vaguely with both hands. “Words are dangerous.”
A tiny confused smile pulled at your mouth. “That sounded dramatic.”
“I’m in space. I’m allowed one dramatic moment.”
Usually the jokes helped him recover but tonight they weren’t working. Because you were still watching him. Still soft and patient. And now there was something else in your expression too. Something careful. Ryland’s stomach flipped painfully.
“Oh no,” he muttered, “You’re thinking.”
You blinked. “You say that like it’s threatening.”
“It is when you look at me like that.”
Your brows pulled together slightly. “Like what?”
Like you finally saw him too. Like maybe the thing ruining his sleep for weeks wasn’t one-sided after all. Ryland laughed nervously under his breath and looked away before you could read too much from his face.
As long as it existed only inside his own head, Ryland could control it. But if it had taken root in yours too? If you were thinking about it as well?
“This is a terrible idea,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
He swallowed hard. “You and me.”
Silence. Your voice came quieter this time. “Why?”
The question genuinely startled him. Ryland looked back at you in disbelief. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
He stared at you for a second like he couldn’t comprehend the answer wasn’t obvious. “Because we’re trapped alone together in space,” he said carefully. “Because emotions get weird in isolation. Because if this goes badly, we still have to save humanity afterward.”
You listened quietly. Ryland rubbed exhaustedly at the back of his neck.
“And because I…” He exhaled shakily. “I don’t trust myself around you anymore.”
You took a deep breath. The honesty in his voice seemed to hit you harder than anything else. “What does that mean?” you asked gently.
Oh God. He really should stop answering questions honestly around you. But it was too late and you were close. And Ryland was tired of carrying this alone. The universe was conspiring against him.
“It means,” he admitted quietly, “sometimes you stand too close to me and I forget how to think.”
The room fell still again. Ryland watched the exact second your expression softened completely. Not uncomfortable or frightened. Just warm. And that look again. The one that seemed to peer straight into his soul.
“You know,” you murmured after a moment, “you could’ve told me.”
His laugh came out weak. “Yeah, because that conversation would’ve gone smoothly.”
“You think I’d make fun of you?”
“No.” He shook his head immediately. “That’s the problem.”
You looked at him carefully then. “So what is the problem?”
Ryland opened his mouth, then closed it again. Because the real answer was terrifyingly simple: If you wanted him back even a little, Ryland didn’t think he’d survive it gracefully.
And judging by the way you were looking at him right now, soft-eyed and nervous and slowly standing from your chair, he was beginning to think that might actually happen.
You stepped closer carefully. Giving him room to move away. He didn’t. He couldn’t. And he didn’t want to.
“Ryland,” you whispered, “look at me.”
Reluctantly, he did. And God, that was worse. Because now you were standing right in front of him in the low golden light, close enough that he could feel your warmth again. Close enough that he noticed your breathing hitch slightly too. Not just his. Yours. Something in his chest nearly stopped.
“You’re not the only one thinking dangerous thoughts,” you admitted softly.
Ryland stared at you. Like his brain had completely lost the ability to process language. “W-What?”
A nervous little laugh escaped you. “That bad, huh?”
“You…” He stopped, completely overwhelmed for a second. “You can’t just say things like that to me.”
Your smile turned shy around the edges. “Why not?”
Because he was already hanging on by threads. Because every lonely, guilty little fantasy he’d been trying to bury suddenly felt horribly possible now. Ryland looked at your mouth for one disastrous second too long. You noticed. And when you stepped just slightly closer again, his entire body went still.
“Tell me to stop,” you whispered.
Oh, he was doomed. Completely. Because instead of stepping away, Ryland’s hand lifted carefully toward your face like he physically couldn’t help himself anymore. His fingers brushed your cheek gently. Almost reverently. And the expression on his face right then - soft, stunned, wanting - looked exactly like a man realizing he’d crossed the line a long time ago and never actually wanted to go back.
Your eyes fluttered slightly at his touch. That tiny reaction nearly destroyed what remained of Ryland’s self-control. Damn, he should stop. He knew he should stop. Every rational part of his brain was still screaming warnings at him: bad idea, complicated, dangerous, mission-threatening. But none of those thoughts survived very long when you leaned into his hand so instinctively.
Like you trusted him there. Like you wanted him there. Ryland’s breath left him shakily. He wanted so badly to feel wanted by you.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he whispered before he could stop himself.
Your expression softened immediately. Something achingly tender flickered across your face then, because suddenly you understood: he’d been fighting this alone for a while. Maybe a long while.
You lifted your hand carefully, fingers brushing lightly against his wrist where it rested against your cheek.
“You’ve been scared of this,” you realized quietly.
Ryland laughed weakly under his breath. “Scared feels too calm a word.”
The honesty of it made your chest ache. Outside the tiny windows of the Hail Mary, stars stretched endlessly through the dark. Cold observers of whatever was happening between the two of you. But inside this tiny lab, everything suddenly felt unbearably close.
Ryland looked at you like a man standing too near the edge of something life-changing. And maybe heartbreaking too.
“I kept trying to convince myself it was isolation,” he admitted. “Or stress. Or shared trauma. Or the fact that you're literally the only person my brain sees anymore.”
A tiny smile touched your mouth. “And?”
His thumb brushed lightly beneath your cheekbone. “And then you'd laugh at something stupid I said and ruin the whole theory.”
You laughed quietly at that, and the fondness that crossed Ryland’s face afterward was so open it almost hurt. There it was. The thing he’d been trying to hide. Not just attraction. Adoration. The kind that sneaks up slowly until suddenly someone's existence starts feeling woven into every part of your day.
Your voice came softer now too. “You really thought you were alone in this?”
Ryland hesitated, then gave a tiny helpless nod. Your heart nearly broke for him. You stepped closer again until barely any space remained between you at all. And Ryland let you. God, he let you. Like he was finally too tired to keep resisting something he wanted this badly.
“You know what’s funny?” you whispered.
His eyes flicked nervously between yours. “What?”
“I thought you were avoiding me because I made you uncomfortable.”
Ryland looked horrified instantly. “What? No.”
“You kept pulling away. And I didn’t want to make things harder for you.”
“Because I was trying very hard not to kiss you constantly.”
“Oh.”
His face flushed immediately afterward. “Oh my God, I said that out loud too.”
A helpless laugh escaped you. Ryland looked seconds away from combusting.
“This is awful,” he muttered, closing his eyes “I had dignity once.”
“You’re very cute when you spiral.”
He looked at you. “Cute?”
You smiled. And then you kissed him. Not dramatically or rushed. Just gentle. A soft press of your lips against his that completely erased every thought left in Grace’s head. He froze instantly. Not because he didn’t want it. Because he wanted it so badly he almost couldn’t process it happening.
Your hand slid lightly into his curls and that finally broke him. Ryland kissed you back with a quiet sound against your mouth that felt dangerously close to relief. Weeks of restrained wanting collapsed all at once. His hand moved instinctively to your waist, pulling you closer carefully but urgently at the same time, like he couldn’t quite believe he was finally allowed to have this. Allowed to have you. In the way he'd been longing for.
The kiss deepened slowly, warm and aching and impossibly tender in the dim lab light. And underneath everything else, underneath the desire and nervousness and loneliness, there was wonder. Pure stunned wonder. Because Ryland had spent so long feeling guilty for wanting this that he never prepared himself for the possibility that you might want it too.
When you finally pulled back slightly, his forehead dropped against yours immediately. Breathing uneven. Still holding you like letting go would physically hurt.
“You realize,” he whispered shakily, “this is probably going to make me insufferably in love with you now.”
Your laugh brushed warmly against his lips. “Probably?”
Ryland closed his eyes briefly. “Okay. Catastrophically.”
You smiled against his lips, still close enough that Ryland could feel every small breath you took. And the terrifying thing? He already knew he’d never recover from this.
His arms tightened slightly around your waist as if his body had decided for him that this was where you belonged now. Which was dangerous. But when you brushed your thumb gently along his cheek, Ryland melted instantly anyway.
“This is so unfair,” he whispered softly.
You blinked up at him. “What is?”
“You being real.”
A laugh escaped you quietly. At that moment, he thought you looked even more beautiful.
“I’m serious,” he murmured, forehead still resting against yours. “You can’t spend weeks looking at me like that and then kiss me. My nervous system isn’t built for it. I’m far too weak.”
“You seemed pretty eager.”
“I have never been calm a single day in my life.”
“That’s true.”
Ryland let out a soft groan of betrayal while you smiled warmly at him. The ship hummed quietly around you. Dim lights. Soft shadows. Endless stars outside. And somehow, despite floating alone through space at the end of the universe, Ryland had never felt less alone in his life.
The realization hit him suddenly enough to steal his breath for a second. Because this wasn’t just attraction anymore. It hadn’t been for a while. You noticed the shift in his expression immediately.
“What?” you asked softly.
Ryland hesitated. Then laughed quietly under his breath like he couldn’t believe himself. “I’m in so much trouble.”
Your hand slid gently into his curls again. “Why?”
He looked at you for a long moment before answering honestly. “Because I think if you asked me for literally anything right now, I’d do it.”
The tenderness in his voice made your chest ache. You brushed your nose lightly against his. “That sounds serious.”
“It is serious.”
His eyes dropped briefly to your mouth again before returning to your eyes. “You kissed me and my brain immediately started planning emotional permanence.”
You laughed softly, warm and breathless. Ryland looked at you like hearing that sound might genuinely keep him alive. God, he was gone. And maybe the most dangerous thing was that he was starting to realize he didn’t mind anymore. Because for the first time in a long time, wanting someone didn’t feel guilty. It felt safe.
You squeezed his hand gently. Ryland looked down at your joined fingers for a second before speaking more quietly.
“You know what the worst part is?”
“What?”
“I think this ruined friendship for me forever.”
Your smile softened. “Ruined?”
“Yeah.”
He looked back at you, fondness written all over his face now. “Because now every time you touch me, my entire soul leaves my body a little.”
You leaned closer, smiling helplessly. “That sounds dramatic.”
“I’m in love with you,” he said immediately. “Everything is dramatic now.”
Silence. A stunned one. Ryland froze the exact second the words left his mouth. His eyes widened behind his glasses. The realization crashed straight into his heart.
“Oh no.” Your heart nearly stopped. Ryland looked horrified with himself. “That was supposed to stay inside my head significantly longer.”
And somehow, impossibly, that was the moment you kissed him again. And he stayed there. Maybe this feeling was reckless, irrational, and completely opposed to everything logical. But he wanted to hold on to it. And he wouldn't let anything tear you out of his arms.
thank you for reading <3
