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pairing gwayne hightower x female reader (team black)
summary you were sent by rhaenyra to negotiate the release of a former master of coin who is living in tumbleton. you had expected ormund hightower to come, not his cousin.
content 18+. smut. enemies to lovers hehe. one bed. hate sex. dirty talk. fingering. slight degradation. slight yearning in the end idk. reader is from flea bottom.
a/n english is not my first language
masterlist | read on ao3
king's landing had always been a city of hunger.
you had known that long before you ever sat at rhaenyra targaryen's council table. you had grown up among its narrow streets, where people learned to count every copper before they learned to dream. you knew what starving looked like. you knew the hollow cheeks of children begging near the gates, the mothers pretending they had already eaten, the old men too proud to admit they could no longer afford bread.
but this was different.
this was a city ruled by a queen who had taken the throne only to find that a crown did not come with endless gold, the treasury a gaping wound that refused to heal.
rhaenyra had looked at her council with a desperation that mirrored the people in the streets, her eyes pleading for a solution that didn't involve more taxes on people who had nothing left to give.
the war had swallowed everything.
shipments were delayed. the riches hid their wealth. the treasury that had once seemed impossible to empty now felt frighteningly small. every day brought another report, another number, another desperate request from the people who had nowhere else to turn to.
rhaenyra had listened to every one of them. she was desperate too, her eyes shadowed by the weight of a city that was eating itself alive. but then a thought crossed her mind.
there was a man called ser dyron horden. he had once served rhaenyra's father, viserys the peaceful and knew where the hidden caches of the crown were tucked away in the provinces. and you had been the only one who knew how to track a man who didn't want to be found.
the problem was that the man had fled to tumbleton, and tumbleton was currently under the suffocating grip of the hightower army.
"send a raven to lord ormund." rhaenyra ordered, her voice thin from lack of sleep. "tell him we do not seek the town, but the man. tell him that ser horden is of no use to him as a prisoner, but of immense use to the crown. offer him a trade of terms for the man's release."
"what sort of trade, your grace?" you asked. "we have nothing. not even a handful of grain to offer as a gesture. and what is stopping him from using ser horden as a leverage point to demand our surrender?"
"let him try," rhaenyra replied, a flicker of the old fire returning to her eyes. "we still have the advantage of the dragons. his refusal will be met with fire, but his cooperation will be met with mercy when the war is over."
"your grace... why not simply send someone to smuggle him out of tumbleton?" you had suggested, but the queen's resolve was as hard as the iron throne itself. rhaenyra wanted a formal negotiation, a paper trail of legitimacy. she wanted the world to see that she could command the cooperation of the hightowers without burning their fields to ash.
so, you were the one chosen.
a raven was set out with a letter sealed with a red wax stamp. the journey was a blur of muddy roads and the lingering scent of smoke. by the time you arrived at a salt-stained inn tucked between the marshes and the city walls which was the agreed designated neutral ground, your whole body was vibrating with nerves.
your queen was counting on you. the starving people of king's landing were counting on you to succeed. you took a lungful of deep breath before pushing the door open.
you had expected lord ormund, a cunning man of predictable pomposity. you had expected a battle of wits against a man who viewed you as a mere servant of the crown.
you did not expect gwayne hightower.
he was downing his second cup of ale when you walked through the door. gwayne didn’t stand nor looked at you. he simply leaned back in the creaking wooden chair. he looked exhausted, the kind of weariness that came from spending too many weeks listening to ser criston cole's endless, circling rhetoric. his armor was dusty, his cloak was frayed at the edges, his auburn hair was slightly mussed and his eyes rimmed with a deep fatigue. and yet he still carried himself with the arrogance that came with the hightower name.
"you aren't ormund," you stated, your voice cutting through the silence of the common room.
"disappointed?" he repeated, the word barely a whisper as he downed the rest of his ale.
"where is he?" you demanded. "the letter was addressed to lord ormund. i was promised a meeting with lord hightower, not his cousin."
"busy." he answered simply, his voice raspy as if he hadn't spoken in hours. he didn't move to greet you. gwayne looked like a man who had reached the absolute limit of his patience with the living, and you were merely the latest inconvenience in a long line of them.
"busy? what could he possibly be too busy for?" you snapped, crossing your arms.
gwayne sighed, a heavy, rattling sound that seemed to vibrate in his chest. he was still not looking at you but instead focusing on the way a single drop of condensation slid down the side of his flagon.
"busy counting the ways he can irritate me into an early grave," he murmured. "ormund decided that since this is a matter of diplomacy and nuance, a man of his particular temperament was too precious to risk on a muddy road."
"and he sent you in his stead?" you scoffed, stepping closer to the table. "he sent a man who looks like he’s about to fall over from a nap to negotiate the release of a royal asset? the audacity of your house is truly boundless."
gwayne's eyes snapped up, flickering with irritation. he stood slowly, the chair screeching against the floorboards like a dying animal. he wasn't tall, but he occupied the space with a heavy, oppressive presence.
"my audacity is matched only by my patience, which is currently thinner than the soup they serve at this gods-forsaken hovel," he countered, stepping into your space. "you come here with the smell of flea bottom still clinging to your skin and think you can lecture me on the propriety of my house?"
you didn't flinch. you had been born in the dirt, a nobleman’s sneer was nothing compared to the roar of an empty stomach. you stepped closer, your chest nearly brushing his, your voice dropping to a lethal, quiet hiss. "the smell of flea bottom is the smell of the people who actually keep this kingdom running while you lot play at war in your gilded gardens. if you have any shred of honor, you'll stop insulting my origin and start discussing the terms for ser horden."
gwayne’s lip curled, but there was a spark of something in his eyes. an irritation mixed with curiousity. the fire in your stance intrigued him, somehow.
you slammed the scroll of rhaenyra’s terms onto the scarred wooden table, the parchment snapping like a whip. "lord horden's release in exchange for a guaranteed ceasefire of the trade routes leading into tumbleton for one moon's turn. it is a generous offer, considering your cousin's current lack of supplies."
gwayne didn't even blink. he didn't even reach for the scroll; he simply stared at it as if it were a particularly boring species of insect. "generous. how quaint... but no."
"no?" you spat, the word vibrating with disbelief. "why in the gods' name is it 'no'? your supplies are dwindling, your men, despite occupying the homes of the people of tumbleton, are eating horsemeat and sawdust. a ceasefire on the trade routes would allow you to actually move goods without risking a dragon's breath every ten leagues."
gwayne finally reached for the scroll, not to read it, but to flick it with a dismissive finger, sending it sliding across the table. he stepped around the table to close the distance between you. he smelled of old leather, stale ale, and a sharp, masculine musk that felt intrusive in the small room.
"you assume ormund cares for the stomachs of his men as much as he cares for his own vanity," he explained, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous register. "he doesn't want trade routes, my good lady. he wants a concession. he wants rhaenyra on her knees kissing his feet. and as for me, i find the idea of a 'generous offer' from a flea-bottom rat to be an insult to my intelligence."
"that is to assume you had any in the first place, hightower." you smirked, the words tasting like venom.
but gwayne appeared to be a man who was not easily deterred by venom. he let out a sharp, jagged laugh that didn't reach his eyes, his gaze dropping to your lips for a fraction of a second before snapping back to your eyes.
"a rat with a tongue like a razor," he mused. "perhaps that's why the queen sent you. she knew a highborn lady would be too terrified of the mud to actually make a demand."
then he leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous vibration. "my people are enduring, my lady. your people are starving. do not mistake my exhaustion for weakness, or your desperation for leverage. and your 'generous' offer is a thinly veiled attempt to slip a spy into our lines under the guise of the master of coin. ormund isn't blind, and neither am i. the man stays."
"absolutely not," you spat, the word hitting him like a slap. "the man is a civilian. he—"
"you said he was a master of coin, so he is a tool of the state," gwayne interrupted, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate in the narrow space between you. "civilian is a word for people who don't know where the gold is hidden. he is a map, and ormund doesn't give away his maps."
"the people in king's landing are starving, hightower. there will be no crown to bear, no throne to sit upon, no kingdom to rule if the city burns from the inside out," you snarled, your voice shaking with a fury that felt like it could crack the floorboards. you didn't care about the political chess anymore, you cared about the hollow-eyed children you'd left behind. "you sit here in your dusty armor playing games while people eat rats to survive. give me the man, or so help me, i will walk back to the queen and tell her that the hightowers are too cowardly to negotiate with a woman."
gwayne’s eyes darkened, a flash of irritation finally piercing through the veil of his exhaustion.
"cowardly?" he murmured, the word tasting like a threat. "you come here with a handful of promises and the stench of desperation and have the nerve to call us cowards because we know the value of the asset you're begging for."
"the value of the asset?" you hissed, the words vibrating between your lips. "you speak of a man as if he were a piece of livestock! you hightowers are pathetic."
gwayne’s jaw tightened, a small muscle leaping in his cheek. for the first time, the boredom had vanished, replaced by a sharp, jagged energy. "the master of coin stays in tumbleton," he declared. "and you will return to your "queen" and tell her that her 'generosity' is as empty as her treasury."
before you could reply, a thunderous crack split the sky, shaking the inn’s rotting foundations. the rain followed instantly, not as a drizzle, but as a violent deluge that turned the road into a river of sludge within seconds. the elderly couple who ran the establishment hurried forward, their faces pinched with worry as they shuttered the windows against the wind.
"it'll be a night of it," the old woman murmured, her voice a dry rasp. she looked between you and gwayne, her eyes lingering on the way your body was still practically vibrating with rage.
"so be it. this negotiation is over." gwayne said, though he didn't move an inch away from you. you stepped back, finally breaking the physical contact, but the heat where your chests had touched lingered like a brand.
"your horses won't survive the storm, ser, or the treacherous roads back wherever you two came from." the old man grunted, wiping a glass with a rag that had seen better decades.
"that won't be a problem for me," you snapped, though the sight of the rain hammering against the shutters, turning the world outside into a grey, drowning blur, suggested otherwise.
"a lady is not fit to travel these roads in a deluge," the old woman said. "and the horses are already spooked. you'll stay."
you glanced at gwayne, who looked as though he’d rather be burned by dragonfire than spend another minute in your presence. the thunder rolled again. the road back to the was already a river of sludge. to attempt it now would be a suicide.
"the good woman is right," he muttered, though his tone remained clipped. "the road is a river. you'll be swept into a ditch before you reach the first milestone."
you glared at him, your fingers curling into fists. "i would rather drown in a ditch than spend another moment breathing the same air as you."
"as if i'm particularly keen on the prospect of your company." gwayne retorted, his voice flat, though his eyes drifted downward to the curve of your hip.
"the room is ready," the old woman announced, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "only one left. the roof leaked in the west wing, and the east is full of merchants who beat the storm."
"only one? absolutely not." you shot down. you looked at the old woman, then at gwayne who looked as if he had just been told he had to spend the night in a cellar with a swarm of bees.
"it is one bed, or it is the mud," the old woman replied simply, her voice devoid of any inclination to negotiate.
"she'll take the bed. i'll sleep in your barn." gwayne muttered, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of doubt as another crack of thunder shook the inn's foundation.
you were quite surprised that he even had the heart to let you take the room all for yourself.
"the barn is flooded," the old man called out. "the roof gave way an hour ago. everything in there is swimming in muck."
you looked at gwayne, who looked back at you with a level of misery that almost made you feel pity. he looked like a dog that had been kicked too many times, yet he still possessed that stubborn, ingrained pride that refused to let him admit defeat.
"is there any other inn within here?" you asked, your voice hopeful and desperate.
"the next one is a three-hour ride through a swamp," the old woman replied. "unless you've found a way to walk on water, you're staying here."
"i am not—" you began, but the word died in your throat as a sudden, violent gust of wind slammed against the shutters, rattling the heavy oak frames with a sound like a siege engine.
gwayne let out a sound that was halfway between a groan and a snarl. "fine," he snapped, his voice tight. "we share."
"no! i will not share a bed with a man—a hightower at that—who mocks a woman's origin while her people starve!" you snapped, though the thunderous reply from the heavens makes the floorboards beneath your boots shudder.
"believe me, my lady... the prospect of spending the night tangled in the linens with a woman who possesses the temperament of a cornered cat is hardly something i desire. but i prefer my sleep to be dry." he muttered before turning his heels to the narrow stairs.
the room was small, smelling of old lavender and damp stone, with a single candle flickering on a bedside table. the bed itself was a narrow, sagging thing of straw and linen, just wide enough for for two adults.
the silence between you as you stepped inside was deafening, heavy with the remnants of your shouting match. you didn't look at him, and he didn't look at you, both of you preoccupied with the sheer, absurd indignity of the situation.
"take the floor." you told him, your voice clipped. it wasn't a request; it was a command.
gwayne didn’t even look at you as he let out a sharp, mocking huff of laughter. "and what makes you think i would ever consent to sleep on a floor of rotting pine while you lounge in the linens?" he asked, his voice dripping in sarcasm.
you knew the "i'll sleep in the barn" was merely an act in front of the elderly couple. typical hightower.
he didn't move toward the floor. instead, he began to unbuckle the straps of his armor, the metal clinking slow. "you are a guest in this space by the grace of my tolerance, and i have spent the last three days listening to ormund's voice. i will not spend the night with a tick in my spine."
you watched him strip, all the way to his under tunic, and the sight of his shoulders and the lean muscle of his chest under the thin garment made the air in the small room feel suddenly thin. the anger was still there, a hot coal in your gut, but it had morphed into something else that made your skin itch beneath your travel-worn clothes.
before he could catch you staring, you turned first, stripping off your outer layers with what was left of your energy and the journey here and the debate match with gwayne. you didn't care for modesty, not when you were shaking with a mixture of adrenaline and something else that you redused to acknowledge. you climbed into the bed, claiming the far edge, leaving a sliver of space between you that felt like a canyon. the linens were coarse and smelled of old dust, but they were warm at the very least.
"stay on your side and do not attempt to touch me," you warned, your voice a low vibration in the dark. "if you so much as breathe on me, i will find a way to ensure you never sleep comfortably again."
gwayne let out a tired scoff, sharp enough to cut through the room as he climbed in beside you. the bed groaned under his weight, the mattress dipping violently and pulling you toward the center. you instinctively braced yourself against the edge, but the narrowness of the bed made a boundary impossible. every time he shifted, you felt the heat of him radiating through the linen and seemed to fill the entire room.
the silence was not peaceful. every breath you took felt too loud, every shift of the straw mattress sounded like a landslide. you lay rigid, staring at the dark ceiling, while the rain continued to lash the shutters in a relentless rhythm. beside you, gwayne was a mountain of radiating heat, his presence an intrusive weight that made the small bed feel like a coffin.
something happened and it started with a stray movement. a shift of his leg that brushed against yours. you jerked away.
"stop twitching," he muttered with his eyes closed, his voice a low gravelly vibration that seemed to hum against your skin.
"stop moving then. what are you, a fish out of water?" you snapped back, your voice a sharp whisper in the dark. you turned to face him, and in the dim, amber glow of the dying candle, you saw the way he huffed in irritation.
a couple minutes passed where the only sound was the rain and the harsh, synchronized rhythm of your breathing. you couldn't sleep. you couldn't even move. the air felt thick, like honey, pinning you to the mattress. the thunder rolled again, a low, guttural groan that seemed to echo the tension in the room.
when you glanced, gwayne was seemingly already asleep. you sighed, mind running wild over the failed negotiation the look of disappointment on rhaenyra's face. but as you shifted to find a more comfortable position, your leg brushed against his thigh. it was a momentary contact, only a sliver of heat, but it acted like a spark in a dry forest. you felt him stiffen, his breath hitching in a way that wasn't accidental.
"still twitching, are we?" his voice was a low, dangerous rumble right beside your ear.
he hadn't been asleep. he had been lying there, acutely aware of every inch of you pressing against him, this whole time.
feeling brave, you didn't pull away this time. instead, you turned your head, your nose brushing against the rough stubble of his jaw.
"perhaps i'm just trying to find a sliver of space that isn't occupied by your ego." you retorted.
something in him snapped the moment those words left your lips. gwayne moved swiftly, rolling over so he hovered above you, his hands trapping either sides of your head. the movement was so abrupt it knocked the breath from your lungs, pinning you beneath the weight of his body. his eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, searching your face for a sign of retreat that you were too stubborn to give.
"you are far too bold for a woman in such a precarious position," he said, though it sounded restraint.
"and your patience is far too thin for a man of your standing," you shot back. you didn't flinch as his chest pressed against yours, the thin fabric of his tunic doing nothing to hide the hard plane of his muscles.
"you talk... so much," he murmured, his voice a rough, jagged edge. "always talking, always demanding. i wonder if that tongue of yours is just as sharp when it's not being used for insults."
your throat went dry at his last words. you weren't stupid, nor lack the knowledge of what he was insinuating, being a low born girl who had seen the underbelly of the city where desire was bought and sold in every alley. and yet, having it directed at you by a man who looked at you with such irritation mixed with lust made your heart hammer against your ribs like a trapped bird.
you didn't give him the satisfaction of a stutter any further. instead, you reached up, your fingers curling into the collar of his tunic and pulling him down until your lips were a mere breath apart. "why don't you find out, hightower? or are you too exhausted to handle a girl from the gutters?"
gwayne didn’t kiss you so much as he collided with you, his mouth crashing against yours with a hunger that felt less like romance and more like a punishment. you groaned into his mouth, your hands sliding from his collar to the back of his neck, pulling him closer until there wasn't a single molecule of air left between your bodies. he tasted of bitter ale and salt, and most importantly he tasted like the enemy he was, which only made the sudden surge of heat in your belly more violent.
gwayne groaned into your mouth as you fisted into his linen. he pinned your wrist beside your head and swallowed a small gasp of yours, his tongue sweeping against yours with an aggression that mirrored the storm outside and as you arched your back, pushing your hips into his, you felt the heavy, hard length of his cock pressing against your thigh through the layers of cloth.
he broke the kiss to trail a line of searing heat down your throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your collarbone. his hand left your wrist, sliding down to rip open the front of your bodice. buttons flew, clicking against the floorboards like rain on stone. gwayne didn't wait. he dipped his head, his mouth finding the swell of your breast with a hunger. you let out a sharp, ragged moan, your head hitting the pillow as he sucked the peak of your nipple, his teeth grazing the flesh in a way that made your toes curl and your vision blur.
"fuck, you are as loud as you are arrogant," gwayne rasped against your skin, his voice a low, distorted growl. he didn't stop, his mouth returning to your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple with an intensity that left you breathless.
he pushed your dress to your hips impatiently, his eyes scanning your body with in hunger. there was no softness in the way he looked at you. it was the gaze of a man claiming territory, and you met it with a defiant glare that only seemed to spur him on. his hand travelled to your cunt, his fingers grazing the damp heat of your folds.
"fuck, you're already dripping," gwayne muttered, his voice thick with a dark, triumphant satisfaction. he rubbed your clit with somehow a precise pressure that made you cry out. "all that fire, all that screaming in the common room, and you're just a fucking mess for me, aren't you?"
"shut up and touch me," you gasped, your fingers digging into the lean muscle of his shoulders.
"have you been with a man before?"
you let out a sharp, jagged laugh, the sound half-smothered by a moan as his thumb continued to circle your clit. "i grew up in the gutters, hightower, as you so often mentioned. we don't have the luxury of sheltered innocence that you lot cultivate in oldtown."
he smirked, a dark, predatory expression that made your heart gallop. "good. because i have no intention of being gentle with a woman who thinks she can outwit me."
he didn't waste another second. gwayne slid two fingers deep inside you, the sudden invasion making you gasp and arch your back off the mattress. he was thick and calloused, his movements rhythmic and demanding, driving into you with a relentless pace.
"look at you," he groaned, his thumb pinning your clit down and grinding against it with an intensity that pushed you toward the edge. "begging for it. a little rat from the slums, having her cunt stretched open by a hightower. do you like it? do you like how it feels to have me inside you?"
you couldn't even form a sentence, not only because you were biting down your lip from giving him the satisfaction of hearing you beg, but because the sheer friction of his fingers was turning your insides to liquid.
"nothing to say now, is it?" gwayne mocked, his voice a jagged rasp. he shifted his weight, his thumb pressing harder into your clit, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. "tell me you want it. tell me you want this highborn prick to ruin you."
his words should disgust you. they should feel like an insult to everything you had fought for, a reminder of the gap between a girl who scavenged for scraps and a man born to a spire of gold. not to mention the war. rhaenyra did not send you here to fuck the enemy, she sent you to secure a man who could save a city. but as gwayne’s fingers worked you, the only thing you felt was this aching need to be filled.
"i want it," you gasped, the admission feeling like a surrender. "fuck, gwayne, just... put it in."
the way his name fell from your lips, broken and pleading, already made him addicted. "say my name again."
"gwayne," you whimpered, your voice sounding foreign and fragile in the small, dimly lit room. "please, gwayne."
he let out a sharp exhale, his chest heaving against yours. he didn't waste another moment of hesitation, he yanked his trousers down in one fluid, freeing himself. his cock was thick and pulsing, a heavy weight that seemed to mirror the intensity of the room. he grabbed your thighs, hoisting your hips higher off the sagging mattress to create a steeper angle, and positioned himself against your entrance.
he entered you slowly, much to your surprised, his eyes locked on yours as he sank into your heat. you let out a sharp, strangled cry, your head snapping back against the linens as he filled you completely. it was a heavy, stretching sensation that drowned out the sound of the storm, replacing the chaos of the rain with a singular, thrumming focus on where your bodies joined. he paused for a heartbeat, his muscles trembling with the effort of restraint, his breath hot and ragged against your neck.
"you're so tight," he groaned, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. "fuck, you're trying to squeeze the life out of me."
he let you adjust to him for a second, his gaze searing into yours. then he began to move slowly, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back in. it wasn't the frantic pace you had expected. he wanted you to feel every single ridge of him, every millimeter of the friction as he stretched you open. you let out a whimper, your hips instinctively trying to chase him, to close the gap, but he held you firm, his grip on your thighs like iron bands.
"gwayne..." you whimpered, the sound breaking as you tried to pull him deeper. your legs were locked around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back, trying to force a momentum that he was stubbornly denying. he continued that agonizingly slow pace, his hips grinding into yours with a heavy, deliberate pressure that made your nerves scream. every time he retreated, you felt the sudden, cold void of the air, only for him to plunge back in with a slow, rhythmic thud that resonated in the very marrow of your bones.
he was watching you, his eyes dark and focused, savoring the way your face crumpled with desperation. "not so loud now, are you? where is all that fire, little rat? where is the woman who called me a coward?"
he shifted his angle, hitting a spot deep inside you that made your vision spark white. you let out a strangled cry, your fingers clawing at the muscles of his back, begging for a speed that would end this torture.
"gwayne, please," you sobbed, the word barely a whisper against the roar of the rain. you were shaking, your body a taut string vibrating at a frequency that threatened to snap. his pace was a cruelty of its own. he was savoring the friction, the way your walls clamped around him in a desperate, pulsing rhythm. he stayed in that slow, agonizing orbit, his hips rotating with a heavy precision that kept you perched on the very edge of a climax you couldn't reach.
you arched your spine, your chest heaving, as he pulled back until he was barely grazing your entrance before sinking back in with a slow, thudding weight. the sensation was too much and yet not enough. you were starving for the release, your clit screaming under the pressure of his pelvis grinding against you. you didn't care about pride anymore. you didn't care about the political divide. you just needed the friction to turn into a fire.
"faster," you gasped, your voice cracking. "fuck, gwayne, go faster. please."
"beg again," gwayne commanded, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against your collarbone.
"please," you whimpered, your voice breaking into a sob of pure frustration. "please, please."
when he finally decided to grant your request, it wasn't with a sudden rush. he began to hammer into you with a rhythmic, punishing force that stole the very air from your lungs. gwayne’s composure broke with the pace, his breath coming in jagged, guttural snarls as he drove himself deep into your heat, his hips colliding with yours.
"that's it," he groaned, his voice raw and stripped of all nobility. "take it all. take every fucking inch of it."
you were drowning in the sensation, your eyes rolled back as you clung to him, your nails leaving red crescents in his shoulders. the friction had become a blinding white light, a heat that started in your core and radiated outward until every nerve in your body was screaming.
“is this what you came for?” he growled. “rhaenyra’s little rat spreading her legs for a hightower cock?”
"you arrogant prick." you managed to gasp the words out, but they were stripped of any real venom. you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him so deep that there was no space left for air or pride.
gwayne let out a sound that was half laugh and half groan. "so loud in the common room, so fierce with your demands... and here you are, shaking under me, taking every inch of my cock like you're starving for it."
the words should have sting, should have felt like an insult to your dignity, but in the heat of the moment, they only served to fuel the fire.
"you’re so fucking wet. do you have any idea how much i’ve wanted to shut you up since the moment you opened your mouth? to see you break like this?" he groaned, his voice a guttural rasp that vibrated against the shell of your ear.
he didn't wait for an answer, his pace becoming a frantic, bruising rhythm that left you breathless. "tell me, does it feel good to be ruined by the man you hate? does it feel better when i'm deep inside you, stretching you out?"
you couldn't find the words to argue, only a series of broken, high-pitched sounds that spurred him on. you gripped his biceps, feeling the lean muscle twitch under your palms as he hammered into you. "yes," you sobbed, the word lost in a gasp. "yes, fuck, gwayne."
you were nearing the edges of the world, your breath coming in shallow hitches as gwayne’s pace became frantic. he didn’t let up, his hips slamming against yours with a bruising force that threatened to push you right off the sagging mattress. he shifted his weight, one hand sliding down to grip your thigh, pinning you firmly against the sheets while the other hand found the small of your back, arching you up to meet every deep thrust.
you felt the internal pressure build, a coil of tension tightening in your gut until it was almost unbearable. gwayne sensed it. he felt the way your walls began to spasm around him in. he let out a guttural sound, his pace becoming sloppy, his teeth grazing the skin of your shoulder as he drove himself into you.
"come for me," he commanded, his voice a raw, distorted growl. "come for me, you stubborn little thing."
the command was the final spark. you shattered, your entire body arching violently as a wave of pleasure crashed through you, pulling you under. you screamed his name into the crook of his neck, your internal muscles clamping around him in desperate, rhythmic contractions that felt like they were trying to pull him into your very soul. the world dissolved into a blur of amber candlelight and the suffocating heat of his skin, leaving you gasping and blind as the orgasm ripped through your frame in jagged, electric pulses.
gwayne didn't stop. he let out a low, animalistic sound, his movements becoming uncoordinated as he chased his own release. he hammered into you with a final, bruising intensity, his chest heaving against yours, his eyes locked on your flushed face with a hunger that seemed bottomless. with one last, deep plunge that felt like it hit the very base of your spine, he stiffened. a guttural groan ripped from his throat, his head falling into the hollow of your shoulder as he spilled himself inside you.
the silence that followed was heavier than the storm with the ragged gasps of the two of you being the only sounds that filled the room. gwayne remained slumped against you for a long minute, his weight an oppressive yet grounding presence. the heat of him was still radiating, his sweat acting like a glue that bound your skin together. slowly, the adrenaline began to dissipate, leaving behind a hollow, dizzying exhaustion and the sudden, sharp return of reality.
he withdrew from you with a slow, wet slide that made you shiver, the sudden absence of his heat leaving you feeling cold and exposed. gwayne didn't immediately move away. he rolled to the side, his chest still heaving, his eyes staring at the ceiling with a look of profound disorientation. the arrogance was gone, replaced by a stillness. he looked less like a lord of a great house and more like a man who had been blindsided by a blow he hadn't seen coming.
you laid there for a long time, the damp sheets clinging to your skin like a second, colder layer of clothing. the rain continued to lash against the shutters, a rhythmic drumming that felt far too loud in the sudden vacuum of the room. your muscles were trembling, a lingering aftershock of the climax that had nearly stripped the breath from your lungs. you could feel the sticky heat of his seed beginning to cool inside you, a visceral reminder of the transgression you had just committed.
"gwayne—"
"do not," he interrupted, his voice still a jagged rasp, though the cruelty had vanished. he didn't look at you. he remained staring at the ceiling, his jaw tight, as if he were trying to reconstruct the walls of his pride around him.
"just... sleep. we shall discuss this in the morning." he added, his tone returning to a resemblance of nobility, though the cracks were still visible. he didn't move to leave the bed, and neither did you. instead, you shifted, your skin sticking to the linens, and felt the sudden, sharp prickle of shame and triumph.
you had not secured the master of coin, but you had dismantled the composure of gwayne hightower.
you knew that the discussion won't happen because when morning came, both of you were eager to be the first to leave. the dawn didn't break with a golden glow, but with a stale grey light that filtered through the grime of the inn's windows.
gwayne was fastening his belt, his movements sharp and jerky. he didn't look at you, and you didn't look at him, though you could feel the weight of his gaze whenever he thought you weren't watching. the shared bed, which had felt like a battlefield of lust only hours ago, now felt like a crime scene. the sheets were twisted and damp. you dressed quickly, your fingers trembling as you fought with the buttons of your bodice, feeling the lingering ache in your thighs and the sticky evidence of his conquest still clinging to your skin.
he approached the door and paused, his hand hovering over the heavy iron latch. for a heartbeat, you thought he might turn back, might say something that acknowledged the way his voice had sounded when he begged you to call his name. but gwayne hightower was a man built of stone and tradition, and the stone was already sliding back into place.
"i accept rhaenyra's terms."
your hands that were busy fixing your bodice froze. you looked up at him, the grey dawn light casting a sharp silhouette of his frame against the door.
"what?" you breathed, your voice still raspy from the screaming of the night.
"under one condition." he breathed. "lord horden is to be escorted by a hightower soldier while in king's landing and is to be returned back to tumbleton the moment the funds are secured," gwayne said, his voice regaining its polished edge, though he still wouldn't meet your eyes. "i would not have him simply handed over to a woman who thinks a few trade routes are a fair exchange for a man's loyalty. but... i find myself suddenly inclined to be merciful."
you stared at him, your mind racing. this was a victory. a massive one. rhaenyra would be pleased, and the people of the capital would finally see bread and gold.
but still, the victory felt jagged. you looked at gwayne and saw the slight tremor in his hand as he gripped the door handle. the distance between you was only a few feet, yet it felt like a chasm.
"mercy," you repeated, your voice regaining its sharp edge, though it lacked the venom of the previous evening. "or perhaps you simply couldn't bear the thought of me leaving this inn without knowing you'd finally given in."
"just accept it, will you?" he said in an exhaustion that sounded almost like a plea. he finally turned his head, his gaze flickering across your face, lingering for a fraction of a second on your swollen lips before he looked away. "i cannot stand the thought of another hour in your company. the air in this room has become... intolerable."
you wanted to snap back and remind him that he spent the night with you just fine but decided against it.
"is this a plan to have the hightower escort spying on rhaenyra and report back to ormund?" you asked, stepping forward, your voice regaining its professional weight.
"no, it is not. i can assure you." he answered confidently.
"how can i trust you?"
"because the escort will be myself."
oh.
you blinked, your brain momentarily failing to process the implications. gwayne hightower, a man who had spent the last forty-eight hours treating you with a mixture of disdain and hunger, was offering to personally escort the master of coin into the heart of the enemy’s capital.
he will be in king's landing. where lord horden goes, he will follow. which includes the red keep, and most likely, the very rooms where you spent your days strategizing for rhaenyra.
you and gwayne hightower will be in same room again.
is he implying what you think he is implying? the thought flickered through your mind, a spark of curiosity. the escort of a high-value prisoner was certainly not a task for a man of his rank. yet, gwayne stood there, his posture rigid, his eyes finally meeting yours with a look that was no longer mocking, but something far more complicated. it was a gaze that held the memory of the mattress, the sound of your voice breaking, and the way your nails had carved paths into his skin.
"you are remarkably quiet," gwayne noted, his voice regaining that irritating timbre from last night. "has the gutter-girl finally run out of things to say, or are you simply calculating how much of my dignity you can strip away once we are within the walls of the keep?"
"you planned this." you said instead, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "the noble lord of oldtown, suddenly burdened by a sense of duty to personally escort a master of coin. it's almost as if you've realized that the walls of this inn are too thin to contain whatever this is."
gwayne stiffened. but the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips, though he fought to keep it hidden behind a mask of indifference. "do not flatter yourself, my lady. it is a strategic move. i trust no one else to ensure lord horden isn't bribed or spirited away by your queen’s agents before the gold is accounted for."
"and yet you did not offer this yesterday," you countered, crossing your arms over your chest. the movement made you acutely aware of the soreness in your muscles. "you were quite content to let him rot in tumbleton."
gwayne finally let out a short, dry huff of laughter. it was not the mocking sound of the common room, but something almost fond, though he quickly masked it. he stepped toward you, his presence filling the small space of the room once more. "yesterday i thought i was negotiating with an enemy."
"and today?" you asked, not moving he closed the gap.
gwayne stopped just inches from you, the heat of his body radiating through his armour. he didn't touch you, but the air between you crackled, thick with the residue of the night's wreckage.
"today," he murmured, his gaze dropping to your throat where a faint, reddish mark lingered from his teeth, "i find myself wondering if the red keep has enough corridors for us to avoid each other. or if it has enough locked doors to ensure we do not."
the tension broke not with a kiss but with gwayne stepping back, his hand reaching for the knob once again.
"and for what it's worth..." he paused, his voice trailing off as he looked at you one last time, "i'm glad it was you."
summary you and ryland got hit by some kind of dust
word count 8K
content 18+. smut. sex pollen. fuck or die. masturbation (m). penis in vagina sex. riding. humour (i tried). crack. ryland's glasses stay ON during sex.
a/n officially the longest fucking thing i have ever written. i'm not truly satisfied with this but it's whatever. i hope u guys enjoy it. english is not my first language
masterlist | read on ao3
you and ryland have been staring at yet another mysterious gift sent by rocky like it was a trunk shot from pulp fiction.
you know, the one where— okay so nevermind. that's not important.
what's important was what rocky had sent, which was another cylinder.
you glanced at ryland. ryland glanced at you. then you both glanced at the cylinder.
it sat in the center of the lab table, perfectly still, perfectly silent, and deeply, profoundly suspicious.
“so,” you said, arms crossed. “before you do anything impulsive and deeply stupid, let’s review our options.”
ryland didn’t even look up. “option one: we open it and potentially discover advanced human knowledge. option two: we don’t open it and i slowly lose my mind wondering what’s inside.”
“option three,” you added, “we don’t open it and you will forever be curious about the content but hey, at least you'd still be alive!”
he glanced up at you with a grin that immediately told you he was not going to pick option three.
“ryland last time you said ‘this’ll probably be fine,’ we almost suffocated.”
“counterpoint,” he said, straightening and placing a hand on the latch, “almost.”
you sighed.
“i just don’t like it,” you said for what was probably the fifth time.
ryland made a thoughtful humming sound that meant the exact opposite.
“you don’t like anything that comes from rocky.”
you crossed your arms without taking your eyes off the object. “that is objectively untrue. i like the parts that don’t explode, corrode, or attempt to rewrite the laws of physics.”
“so.... none of it?”
“exactly.”
pause.
just when ryland reached for the cylinder, you spoke out again.
“and just for the record....” you said, voice flat, “i am deeply against whatever you’re about to do.”
“come on. what’s the worst that could happen?”
you dragged a hand down your face, already bracing for disaster. “okay, i need you to understand that that phrase is cursed. like, historically cursed. civilizations have fallen after someone said that.”
he ignored you.
of course he ignored you.
the seal popped before you could argue more. the cylinder hissed open with a soft, pressurized sound.
for a second, nothing happened.
you leaned forward slightly, squinting, peering into the opening, expecting.... something. a device. a sample. anything.
“okay.... maybe it’s empty—”
poof!
a burst of fine gold dust shot out of the container in slow motion, catching the light as it drifted upward and outward, directly into both your faces before either of you could react.
“oh— come on—!” you coughed immediately, stumbling back and waving your hands uselessly through the air. “why is it always airborne—”
“i didn’t—” ryland coughed too, turning his head and blinking rapidly. “i didn’t know it was going to do that!”
“it’s a mysterious alien container, of course it was going to do that!”
the dust settled almost as quickly as it appeared, vanishing into nothing. no residue, no smell, no visible trace that anything had even happened.
you both stood there, breathing hard, staring at each other.
“....okay,” you said slowly. “status report.”
he blinked a few more times, then patted his arms, his torso, like he might find damage. “uhhh.... lungs: functioning. skin: not melting. vision: normal.”
“define normal.”
“i can see you glaring at me, so, yeah. normal.”
you exhaled. “great. fantastic. we inhaled space dust and survived. love that for us.”
“see?” he said, already relaxing. “nothing to worry about.”
you pointed at him sharply. “you do not get to say that. you lost that privilege the moment you opened it.”
“fair.”
then there was a beat.
“so.... that’s it?” you asked.
he peered into the cylinder, turning it upside down. only the residue of the dust fell, nothing else was inside.
“that’s it.” he confirmed.
“okay,” you said finally, though your voice carried a thin edge of disbelief. “either that was completely harmless, or we just inhaled something that’s going to kill us slowly and mysteriously.”
“statistically,” ryland said, already turning back toward the console, “it’s probably the second one.”
“great,” you muttered.
“yep.” he clicked his tongue and made a double finger gun. “nailed it.”
only for a while.
only for a while, it actually seemed like he was right.
you two ran scans, double-checked the air composition, monitored your vitals like you were waiting for them to spike into something dramatic and undeniable. everything came back normal. no toxins, no foreign pathogens, no radiation spikes, nothing that explained the golden dust or what it was supposed to do.
it should have been reassuring.
it wasn’t.
because about an hour in, you noticed something off.
not dramatic. not alarming. but subtle enough.
you shifted in your seat, tugging slightly at the collar of your yellow jumpsuit. the fabric suddenly felt too close, too warm against your skin.
“hey,” you said, not looking up from your screen. you were in your station in the lab, your back facing ryland. “did the temperature go up?”
ryland glanced at the panel beside him. “nope. holding steady.”
“huh.” you leaned back, frowning. “feels warmer.”
“maybe you’re just stressed.”
you snorted. “yeah, because inhaling unknown alien particles was such a relaxing experience.”
you tried to ignore it.
it didn’t work.
because by the second hour, it got worse. worse enough that it distracted you from doing your job.
you were restless now, shifting every few minutes, hyper-aware of your own body in a way that was getting increasingly distracting.
“okay, nope. something’s happening.” you said, standing up. you zipped down your suit. it pooled around your waist and left you in nothing but a dark green tank top you wore underneath. now you looked like a formula 1 driver walking around the garage in the middle of a malaysian heat.
except you were pretty sure that the heat in malaysia was tolerable enough and the drivers were used to it.
this, whatever this was however, was far from it.
“i'm sure it's nothing—” ryland finally turned but then paused.
“what?” you asked as you tied your hair into a ponytail.
he was sitting still. too still. his posture was stiff, shoulders slightly tense, like he was holding himself in place. his jaw tightened and his eyes that were currently fixated on you slightly dilated.
“....ryland?”
he flinched, snapping back to the present. he fixed his glasses while his eyes withdrew, focusing on somewhere else but you.
“yeah?” his voice came out a little too quick. a little too tight.
you narrowed your eyes. “you okay?”
“fine. totally fine.”
“you don’t look fine.”
he let out a short laugh that didn’t sound entirely natural. “well, looks can be deceiving.”
“you’re flushed.”
“it’s warm,” he said immediately. “i’m…. internally warm.”
“....that’s not a thing.”
“it is now.”
you crossed your arms, studying him.
“you’re acting weird.”
ryland scratched the back of his neck. you did not miss the way he licked his lips. and there was a faint flush creeping across his face, coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears, subtle but unmistakable once you saw it.
“nothing. nothing. um—”
you frowned. “are you okay?”
“yes, yes,” he cleared his throat while still staring at a very specific spot on the floor, like he was avoiding your eyes.
“okay....” you turned, walking back to your station, trying to not let his sudden weird behaviour get to you. it's ryland. he was always a bit odd, even back on earth when you first met him on the ship.
by hour three, thankfully you finished your work quickly because the heat was no longer tolerable.
“fuck....” you muttered under your breath, standing up and started pacing around.
ryland was still busy with his duct-taped-computers, probably working on the algorithm to translate rocky's melodic language.
he stopped typing on the keyboard and grabbed his notebook, writing something there now.
your paces halted. and unfortunately your brain decided that right now was the perfect time to let your eyes wander to his arms out of all places.
you didn’t know why but it just happened.
you didn't get to stop yourself. you brain drifted, catching on the absolute ridiculous size of his biceps. since when did he work out? the thought of middle school science teacher ryland grace going to the gym and working out during the weekends got more ridiculous the more you think of it.
you should have stopped. should have sat back down and worked or went to take a nap or— oh my god his veins—
you flinched.
jesus, what the fuck?
since when the fuck did you notice that?
nope. absolutely not.
you squeezed your eyes shut briefly, exhaling through your nose like that might reset your brain.
it didn't.
you sighed, audible enough just to your ears. your gaze flicked, just for a second, and then immediately snapped back to somewhere else.
that was a mistake.
because now you knew, and knowing made it harder not to look again.
your brain, completely unhelpful, decided to supply additional commentary. since when does he have arms like that? it asked, again, like this was new information, like you hadn’t been working side by side with him for months.
you squeezed your eyes shut briefly, exhaling through your nose. get it together. this was ryland. your crew mate. your friend. the only other human being alive within literal light-years.
and yet—
“oh, for fuck's sake,” you cursed under your breath.
“what?” ryland immediately turned, ears sharp enough to hear you. he looked concerned for a bit.
“nothing,” you said quickly. too quickly.
he adjusted his glasses. “that did not sound like nothing.”
“it’s nothing.”
ryland tilted his head. a hint of amusement decorating his face.
“you were staring at me,” he pointed out.
you jerked your gaze away. “i was not.”
“you absolutely were.”
“i was not,” you insisted sharper, which would have been more convincing if you hadn’t immediately glanced back at him again.
he let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “wow. okay. so it’s not just me. good to know.”
you pressed a hand to your forehead, giving up on your pretenses. “no, it is definitely not just you.”
you paced again a few more steps, trying to shake it off, but it didn’t help. if anything, it made you even more hyperaware of everything. your breathing, the air, him.
and by the fourth hour, denial was no longer an option.
“okay, that's it.” you said, pacing now because sitting still felt impossible, “we need to figure out whatever the hell this is.”
“yep,” ryland said, standing up simultaneously.
“define what you’re feeling,” you asked.
he hesitated. “uh, okay. so, scientifically?”
“obviously.”
“i feel.... distracted,” he started, frowning slightly as he tried to articulate it. “like my brain keeps derailing. and also—” he stopped.
he looked at you and held his gaze for a second too long.
“ryland.”
“....also very aware of you,” he finished.
pause.
“define 'aware'. like when you were staring at me?”
“i wasn't—” he stopped, then frowned, like he was trying to catch his own thoughts mid-escape. “okay, maybe i was.”
you crossed your arms. “why?”
“i don’t know,” he said immediately, which somehow felt worse than any actual answer. “i just— looked up and— there you were.”
“i’m always here!”
“yes,” he said, a little too quickly. “i am aware of that. conceptually. but right now it’s.... more noticeable.”
you stared at him.
“more noticeable.” you repeated.
he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “that sounded weird.”
“it sounded very weird.”
“i meant it in a normal, non-weird way!”
“there is no version of that sentence that is normal, ryland!”
“you were staring at me too!” he reminded.
you opened your mouth, then shut it again, abandoning whatever argument you were about to attempt. he got you there.
then you sighed. you realized that you both seem to be doing that a lot today.
“you know what? nevermind. just— are there any other symptoms? like what, hormones? perception? impulse control?”
“all of the above, probably.”
you exhaled slowly, forcing yourself to think. maybe it was—
“the dust,” you said suddenly, stopping in your tracks.
he went still. “what?”
you pointed at the cylinder. “it has to be that.”
“yeah,” he said, nodding slowly like he just pieced all the puzzles together now. “yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, that makes sense. mysterious alien substance, unknown effects, sudden onset of—” he gestured vaguely between you “—this.”
you raised an eyebrow. “'this?'”
“i don’t have a better word!”
“well, find one!”
“i’m a scientist, not emily brontë!”
you dragged both hands down your face. “oh my god.”
“okay,” you continued. “let's not panic. let us all calm down. so, we agreed we got exposed to an unknown particulate substance.”
“yep.”
“we’re experiencing.... thermal dysregulation.”
“yep.”
“and—” you hesitated, “—behavioral anomalies.”
he made a small, distressed noise. “that is a very scientific way to say that i cannot stop staring at your lips.”
you frowned. “you were staring at my lips?”
“and you were staring at my arms! we can do this all night!” he said defensively.
“did you just quote the sequels— nevermind. not important.”
you pressed your lips together. which, unfortunately, made his eyes drop there again.
you both noticed, and you both looked away at the same time.
“okay,” he said, pacing once, like movement might fix this. “okay, okay, okay, okay, we can figure this out. we always figure things out.”
“right,” you said, latching onto that. “we analyze.”
“we observe.”
“we hypothesize.”
“we do not panic.”
“we are absolutely not panicking.”
you were both very clearly panicking.
“let’s list everything again.” he said, forcing steadiness into his voice. “all symptoms. no judgment.”
“no judgment,” you agreed.
“elevated body temperature.” he started.
“check.”
“heightened sensory awareness.”
“check.”
“uh....” he hesitated, visibly struggling. “increased.... focus on.... specific.... features?”
you folded your arms tighter. “check.”
“compulsive attention,” he added weakly.
“check.”
he swallowed. “and a— a noticeable shift in, uh—”
“attraction?” you said bluntly.
he closed his eyes. “yeah. that.”
the word hung there, heavy but accurate.
you both went very still. because once it was said like that, clean, clinical, undeniable, something in your brain clicked into place.
not just the symptoms.
the pattern.
your mind started pulling threads together, faster now. the dust. the delivery method. the lack of any visible organism. the immediate onset being minimal, then escalating over time.
you frowned, thinking harder.
“okay,” you said slowly. “if this were any known terrestrial system, particulate exposure with delayed onset behavioral changes would suggest—”
“toxins,” he said automatically.
“but there’s no impairment,” you countered.
“cognitive function is intact. motor function is intact. we’re not disoriented.”
“right,” he said, catching up. “so not a neurotoxin.”
“and not a pathogen,” you added. “no immune response. no inflammation.”
“so it’s not attacking us.”
“it’s affecting us.”
you both went quiet again, thinking.
he ran a hand through his hair, pacing again, faster this time. “okay, so— delivery system: aerosolized particulate. effect: behavioral modification. targeted toward—”
he stopped.
you watched it happen. the exact moment the realization hit him.
his entire posture went rigid.
“....no,” he said.
your stomach dropped. “what?” you asked, even though something in you already knew but refused to acknowledge it.
he looked at you. then away. then back again, like he wished reality would swap out for a better option.
“no, no, no, no, no, no,” he muttered, shaking his head. “that’s— that’s not—”
“ryland,” you said, sharper now. “what.”
he gestured helplessly toward the empty cylinder. “there were no organisms. no plant matter. nothing visible. which means whatever this is, it doesn’t rely on traditional biological structures.”
“okay....?”
“which means,” he continued, words picking up speed like he couldn’t stop them now, “it could be a synthetic analog. or an alien biochemical system that doesn’t follow earth-based taxonomy. something that mimics a known function without the same physical form—”
“ryland.”
he stopped and looked at you.
you held his gaze.
“say it.”
he hesitated. like if he didn’t say it, it wouldn’t be real.
“....on earth,” he started, carefully, “there are airborne particulates that influence behavior in very specific ways.”
your chest tightened.
“they’re typically produced by plants,” he went on. “released into the air. inhaled. they trigger physiological responses that.... alter attraction. increase reproductive drive. reduce inhibition—”
your breath caught.
he exhaled, defeated.
“....pollen,” he finished.
silence.
thick.
absolute.
you stared at him.
he stared back.
“that’s not possible,” you said, even as your brain was already connecting it. "that's not fucking possible. what the fu—”
“i know,” he said quickly. “i know. there were no plants. there’s no visible biological structure. it doesn’t make sense.”
“so it’s not pollen.”
“it’s not plant pollen,” he corrected weakly.
you both paused.
“but it’s doing the same thing,” you said.
“yeah.”
another silence. longer this time.
he let out a hollow laugh, dragging a hand down his face. “that’s— wow. okay. that’s just— fantastic. amazing. incredible. we got hit with alien.... pseudo-pollen that—”
he stopped himself.
you finished it for him. “that makes people.... like this.”
he nodded, looking like he wanted to walk directly into space.
you swallowed. your skin still felt too warm. thoughts still kept drifting back to him.
to his hands. arms. the way he was looking at you right now.
you dropped your hands. wanna know the worst part of this? it's that now that you understood it, it didn’t make it stop. it just made it clearer.
“we’re in trouble,” you said quietly.
he nodded, equally quiet.
“yeah,” he said. “we really are.”
“and rocky just gave it to us with no warning?”
“to be fair,” ryland said, “he might not have known humans would react like this.”
you stopped pacing. “react like what, exactly?”
“like this,” he said weakly. “he probably thinks this is how humans reproduce. like, 'here, have some breeding dust, make more crew for the mission!'” ryland continued.
“oh, jesus.”
another pause.
longer this time.
he shifted his weight. “okay. solution-oriented thinking. we just.... wait it out.”
“wait it out,” you repeated.
“yep. it’s a chemical thing, right? it’ll metabolize, wear off, we go back to normal, and we never speak of this again.”
“not even a little bit.” you agreed quickly.
“not even in a funny anecdote way.”
“especially not in a funny anecdote way.”
he removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes shut tight while his other hand was gripping the edge of his desk for dear life. firm, almost rigid, like it was the only thing anchoring him in place. “good plan. great plan. love that plan.”
you stopped pacing and looked at him properly.
really looked.
the flush hadn’t faded, it had deepened. his breathing was just slightly off, not enough to be obvious unless you were paying attention, but you were paying attention now. and the way he was holding himself. tense, contained, like he was actively stopping himself from—
“ryland,” you said slowly.
“yeah.” he did not look at you.
“why are you holding onto the table like it’s about to float away?”
he let out a short, strained laugh.
“because if i don’t,” he said, voice tight in a way that made something in your chest twist, “i might do something incredibly stupid.”
your stomach dropped. “define 'stupid.'”
his eyes flicked up to yours, and whatever you saw there made your breath catch.
“i think,” he said quietly, “you already know.”
pause.
you stole a look at him. ryland had gone very still, hands braced on the edge of the console, head bowed like he was trying to think his way out of this. he looked just as wrecked as you are. tense, flushed, jaw tight like he was grinding through it.
the lab suddenly felt too small, like the walls had inched closer, like the air had thickened into something you had to push through just to breathe. you were still standing too close to each other. close enough to feel the heat rolling off him. close enough that every tiny shift felt amplified. and neither of you seemed able to take that one simple step back.
you both pretended to think. which would’ve been easier if your thoughts weren’t constantly derailing.
“okay,” ryland said finally, too quickly, like he’d been holding the word in his mouth for a while. he wasn’t looking at you. he hadn’t been looking at you for a solid minute now, which somehow made it worse. “solution. we need a solution.”
you nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “yeah. yeah, obviously.”
he paced once, twice, hands flexing at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them. “we don’t know the duration of the effect. could be hours, could be longer.”
“right,” you said, your voice coming out tighter than you meant.
“it might not get worse,” he said quickly.
you both paused.
“it’s definitely getting worse,” you said.
“yeah,” he admitted. “yeah, that’s fair.”
another stretch of silence followed, thick and charged and deeply unhelpful.
another beat. he stopped mid-pace, suddenly locking eyes on your lips again as you bit the lower one in concentration. a visible shiver ran through him.
you, meanwhile, were transfixed by the way his t-shirt stretched across his chest when he breathed. arms. shoulders. that stupid little strand of hair falling over his forehead.
it was ridiculous. you were both adults. professionals. stuck on a ship light-years from home with an entire species depending on you not screwing this up.
and yet.
both of you looked away at the same time.
he continued pacing, then he straightened slightly, like he’d latched onto something solid. “okay. i’ve got it.”
you perked up. “yeah?”
“isolation.”
silence.
“what?” your voice came out small.
“we isolate,” he repeated, more firmly now, like saying it again would make it more reasonable. “separate areas of the ship. minimal contact. we wait for the effects to wear off.”
you stared at him. “you’re kidding.”
“i’m not kidding.”
“ryland, that’s not a solution. t-that’s— what if it gets worse? what if it doesn’t wear off?”
“then we reassess,” he said, easy. “but right now, the safest option is distance.”
you laughed, sharp and disbelieving. “distance? on this ship? we share literally everything. systems, controls, workload—”
“yeah,” he said, gaining momentum, talking faster now. “we separate. different sections of the ship. minimal contact. we only communicate over comms when absolutely necessary. reduce exposure to.... stimuli.”
“stimuli,” you repeated flatly.
he made a small, helpless gesture. “i’m trying to keep this clinical.”
you stared at him. really stared this time.
“ryland,” you said slowly, “we are on a single-crew mission with two people.”
“yes.”
“yao and ilyukhina are—”
“i’m aware.” his voice was tighter this time, jaw clenched.
“we barely manage everything together on a good day.”
“we’ll adjust.”
“adjust?” you let out a short, disbelieving breath, shaking your head. “we’re already compromised. you said it yourself. attention issues, cognitive interference. you think splitting up is going to make that better?”
his jaw tightened. “it removes the trigger.”
“it removes the only person who can help when something goes wrong,” you shot back. “we don’t have backup. we don’t have a third crew member to pick up the slack. if something breaks, and something will break, we need both of us functional.”
“we are functional,” he insisted, but it came out strained, like he didn’t fully believe it.
you took a step closer without thinking.
his entire body reacted.
it was subtle. so subtle you almost missed it. but it was there: the way his shoulders went rigid, the way his breath hitched just slightly, the way his hands curled like he was holding himself in place.
that alone made your point for you.
you gestured between the two of you. “this is not functional.”
he didn’t answer.
you softened your voice, just a little. “we don’t know how long this is going to last.”
“it could wear off in a few hours,” he said, but it sounded more like hope than certainty.
“or it could be days,” you said quietly.
he didn’t argue.
“or weeks or never at all!” you added, pushing it, because you needed him to really think about it, not just cling to the best-case scenario.
“it’s the only plan that doesn’t make things worse. it’s better than the alternative.” he replied.
you stilled. “what alternative?”
he didn’t say anything.
which, unfortunately, was an answer.
you exhaled slowly, your chest tight. “okay. no. we’re not doing this vague shit. we need to actually say it.”
“we really don’t,” he said quickly.
“we do,” you insisted. “because if we don’t, we’re just going to keep circling around it and nothing gets solved.”
he dragged a hand down his face. “no.”
“ryland—”
“no,” he repeated, firmer this time. “we are not— no. that is not the solution.”
you stared at him. you've never heard his voice went that rough. that low. “it’s the only solution that makes sense.”
“it’s not a solution,” he shot back. “it’s—” he stopped, jaw tightening. “it’s not something we should even consider.”
“we both know what this is doing to us,” you pressed, voice low but steady now. “it’s not just going to fade if we sit in separate rooms pretending we’re fine. it’s getting worse.”
“i said no,” he repeated, sharper this time.
“and what happens if it peaks while we’re in the middle of something critical?” you continued anyway. “a maneuver, a repair, a calculation— what then? we just hope we can think straight?”
“we will think straight,” he snapped. “we’re not animals.”
“no, we’re worse,” you shot back. “we’re aware of it and still can’t stop it.”
he looked away first, jaw flexing, like he was trying to clamp down on something.
“we are not going to make a decision like that under the influence of alien—” he gestured helplessly, “—whatever this is.”
“we might not have a choice,” you said.
“we always have a choice.”
“do we?” you asked. “because right now it feels like we’re both in agony and pretending that distance is going to fix it.”
he flinched. barely, but enough.
“you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he said, quieter now. steadier. like he was forcing the words into place. “okay? whatever this is, it doesn't make that decision for us. you don’t—” he stopped, swallowing. “you don’t owe me anything. not for survival, not for the mission. nothing.”
your expression softened for half a second, before hardening again.
“this isn’t about owing anyone anything,” you said. “this is about reality. about what’s actually happening. we can’t function like this, ryland.”
“we can,” he insisted. “we will.”
“you don’t believe that.”
he didn’t answer.
you stepped closer without thinking. his shoulders tensed immediately, like proximity itself was dangerous.
“look at me,” you said.
he did.
“you’re telling me to isolate,” you said, softer now, but more intense. “to stay away from you, to fight this out on our own, when we both know exactly what would make it stop.”
his breath hitched. just slightly, but he held his ground. “knowing something doesn’t mean we should do it.”
“why not?” you asked. “if it works, if it stabilizes us, if it lets us actually do our jobs.... why not?”
“because that’s not a choice,” he said, the words coming out sharper than he meant them to. “that’s a reaction. that’s the pollen making the decision for us.”
“or it’s us making the best decision with the situation we have,” you countered.
“no,” he said, shaking his head, stepping back now like he needed the space. “no, that’s not the same thing.”
you followed without realizing.
“then what is?” you demanded. “we wait it out and risk compromising the mission? we split up and hope nothing goes wrong? how is that better?”
“because at least it’s ours,” he snapped.
the words hung there. then he froze, like he hadn’t meant to say it that way.
you frowned slightly. “what?”
he dragged a hand down his face, exhaling hard. “if we— if we do this, it shouldn’t be because we’re backed into a corner. it shouldn’t be because some alien dust messed with our heads and left us with one option.”
“it’s still us,” you said. “it’s still our choice.”
“is it?” he asked quietly.
that got you. because there was something in his voice now. something deeper than just logic. something personal.
“i don’t want that,” he went on, more quietly now, but more intense for it. “i don’t want.... something like that to happen because we had no other way out. because we were trying to survive it. i don’t want it to be something we look back on and think, ‘we didn’t really choose that.’”
you stared at him.
he looked away again, jaw tight.
“that’s not—” you started, then faltered. “that’s not what this is about.”
“it is for me,” he said.
there was a beat.
“we don’t have the luxury of waiting for perfect conditions,” you said, more gently now. “we have a mission. we need each other functioning.”
“i know,” he said. “i know that.”
“then stop pretending this is something we can just outlast.”
“i’m not pretending,” he said, voice rougher now. “i’m choosing the option where you don’t wake up later and regret it.”
pause.
you blinked at him. your voice came out quieter than you intended. “you think i’d regret it.”
“i think,” he said carefully, “that this isn’t exactly a clear-headed situation.”
you opened your mouth but no argument came out. because he wasn’t wrong.
“i’m just saying that it might fix the problem.”
“at what cost?”
a beat.
he stepped closer. just one step, but it closed the gap enough that the heat surged again, sharp and immediate, both of you feeling it.
his hands flexed at his sides like he was actively resisting the instinct to do something else with them.
“you think you won’t regret that?” he asked, voice lower now, rougher around the edges. “you think we won’t look back at this later and realize we only did it because we didn’t have a choice?”
you didn’t answer right away.
he shook his head, almost to himself. “that’s not…. that’s not how that should happen.”
there was something else in his voice then, something quieter, buried under all the logic and resistance. something that didn’t quite belong to the situation at hand.
“if we’re going to—” he stopped, jaw tightening, then tried again. “if something like that ever happens, it shouldn’t be because we’re trying to survive some alien.... whatever this is. it should be because we actually—”
you watched him cutting himself off. the way his shoulders were locked, the way his whole body looked like it was braced against something internal, something he was refusing to let slip.
“isolating wouldn't work,” you said quietly. “we can’t do this alone. not here. not now.”
“maybe not,” he admitted.
“then—”
“i’m still not doing that,” he cut in.
you blinked. “ryland—”
“i’m not,” he repeated, firmer now. “we’ll figure something else out. we’ll manage it. we have to.”
“even if it makes things harder?”
“yeah,” he said. “even then.”
you searched his face. trying to understand. trying to find the line he wouldn’t cross.
“you’re really that set on this,” you said.
“yeah,” he said quietly.
another pause.
“fine,” you said at last, though it didn’t sound like agreement so much as reluctant acceptance. “we do it your way.”
he nodded once.
“we isolate,” you added. “but if it gets worse—”
“we reassess,” he said immediately.
neither of you moved.
just stood there, separated by a few steps and a whole lot of tension, both of you very aware of how fragile that distance felt.
like it could disappear in a second.
like he might cross it.
like you might let him.
his jaw tightened.
his shoulders went rigid again.
and for a split second, he looked like he might—
but then he turned away.
“i’ll take the lab first,” he said, voice a little rough. “you can have the cockpit.”
you swallowed. “okay.”
“we’ll.... check in. over comms.”
“right.”
—
you weren't sure what time it was, but two things for certain: you were going crazy because sleep refused to come and the ceiling was mocking you.
you had been lying in bed, tangled in your sheets for what felt like hours but was probably just twenty minutes, staring at the ceiling, flipping from one side to the other like a rotisserie chicken. the gold dust still simmered under your skin, turning every shift of fabric into slow torture. your tank top clung to your damp chest. your shorts felt too tight, too rough, too everything. you rolled onto your stomach, then flopped onto your back again, kicking the blanket off with a dramatic groan.
“this is stupid,” you muttered into the dark, dragging a pillow over your face like that might solve anything. “this is so fucking stupid. i am the pilot of the hail mary. i’ve navigated black holes in simulations. i should not be this horny because of some stupid alien dust.”
another wave of heat rolled through you, settling low and insistent between your legs. you whimpered softly, pressing your thighs together, but that only made it worse.
your brain refused to calm, looping the same thoughts over and over again.
ryland’s voice.
ryland’s face.
ryland's arms.
ryland's hair.
just him in general. the way he’d looked at you before you separated. the way his voice had tightened. the way his shoulders had gone rigid like he was holding himself together by sheer force.
you groaned softly into your pillow, pressing your face into it like that might smother the thoughts.
with a frustrated sigh, you shoved the covers off and swung your legs over the side of the bed, the cool floor a brief relief against overheated skin. you sat there for a second, breathing, trying to steady yourself before started pacing.
“isolation,” you scoffed under your breath, pacing faster. “yeah, great plan, ryland. fantastic plan, ryland. terrific plan! it was never gonna fucking work.”
you sighed again before stopping to take a deep breath.
“okay,” you said to yourself. “it's fine. it's fine! you're okay. you're doing good. just— breathe. it’ll pass.”
you closed your eyes and tried to focus.
in.
out.
in—
“mhmmph—”
pause.
you blinked an eye open.
what—
“mhmphhh— fuckk—”
—the hell was that?
you tilted your head slightly, listening.
at first, nothing. just the low hum of the ship, steady and familiar. long enough you were starting to think that your brain was playing tricks on you.
but then—
“oh, please— please—”
it was soft and faint. slightly uneven. and came from the other side of the wall.
and the other side of the wall was ryland's room.
you froze. you heard it again. a low, muffled whimper drifted through the thin wall
unmistakenably ryland.
he was in the room next to yours.
awake.
and very clearly not handling this any better than you were.
he was trying so hard to stay quiet, really committing to the bit, but failing miserably. another whimper followed, shaky and desperate, quickly bitten off. the faint, rhythmic sound of skin on skin. a muttered curse. your name, whispered like he was cursing the universe for putting him in this position.
heat flooded your face so fast you probably matched the emergency lighting. you stood there, mouth slightly open, ears straining despite yourself.
is he—
no.
no way.
no fucking way.
another moan, softer this time, but unmistakably him. he was doing a terrible job at being stealthy. the wall might as well have been paper.
you paced faster, hands flapping uselessly at your sides like a malfunctioning robot.
dilemma time. big, stupid, pollen-fueled dilemma.
option #1: stay in your room. be responsible. respect the isolation plan he’d suggested earlier like the noble scientist he was. suffer in dignified silence until the dust wore off. maybe meditate. or count rivets in the ceiling. very professional.
option #2: march over there, bang on his door, and finally deal with whatever this is, together.
you stopped, pressing your ear against the cool wall, right where the sounds were loudest. another whimper from his side. your stomach flipped. your body voted very enthusiastically for option two.
“but he said isolate,” you argued with yourself in a harsh whisper. “he was all ‘we’re professionals, we can handle this.’ what if i go over there and he freaks out? what if it gets awkward? what if he opens the door with his dick in his hand and we both just scream?”
you frowned at the mental image. not very flattering thing to think about.
“fuck, no. i’m strong. i’m a pilot. i’ve done evasive maneuvers in asteroid fields. i'm on a mission to save earth. i can handle one night of alien-induced horniness without climbing my crewmate like a tree.”
you resumed pacing, arms crossed tight over your chest like that would somehow contain the fire. three steps. turn. three steps. the sounds from his room continued. another low moan, a bitten-off “shit” that sounded way too sexy for your sanity.
you stopped again, staring at your door like it was the airlock to certain doom.
your hand hovered near the door panel. you yanked it back like the button burned.
“no. professional boundaries. we have a mission. we have dignity. we—”
a particularly broken moan cut through the wall, followed by a muffled thump like he’d smacked his head against something.
you groaned, dragging both hands down your face. “okay, fuck it. i’m weak. i’m so fucking weak. if he doesn’t want this he can yell at me tomorrow when the pollen wears off.”
a beat.
“if.... it ever wears off.” you added.
before you could talk yourself out of it again, you marched to the door, heart hammering like a faulty thruster. you raised your fist and banged on his door, loud, impatient.
no turning back now.
inside, everything went dead silent. then frantic shuffling. something clattered to the floor. then the door finally slid open.
ryland stood there, flushed crimson, hair a disaster, breathing like he’d just run a marathon. his glasses were crooked. shorts wrinkled, barely even on, one hand still guiltily hovering near his waist. his eyes widened comically when he saw you.
you didn’t give him time to speak.
you grabbed the front of his shirt, pulled him forward, and kissed him hard.
he made a surprised noise that got immediately swallowed when you kissed him, the door sliding open the rest of the way as he stumbled back into the room.
for a second, he didn’t move. just froze, like his brain had short-circuited.
then his hands came up instinctively, one landing on your waist, the other tangling in your hair as he kissed you back with pent-up desperation. you stumbled forward into his room, mouths still locked, and kicked the door shut behind you with your heel.
the kiss was messy at first. noses bumping, tongues fighting. but neither of you cared. you poured every ounce of frustration and heat into it. his back hit the wall and he pulled you closer, hips pressing against yours so you could feel exactly how affected he still was.
after a long, dizzying minute you forced yourself to pull back just enough to breathe.
“wait, wait,” you said, out of air. “you were the one who wanted to isolate. if you want me to stop.... say it. we can pretend this never happened—”
“no— no, no, no, no. don’t you dare,” he said immediately.
you blinked. “what?”
“don’t say we can stop and then actually mean it,” he said, like that was a personal attack. “that’s— no. absolutely not.”
you huffed a breath that might’ve been a laugh. “you were literally the one arguing against doing this.”
“i know,” he said. “i was wrong. past me was— misguided. naive. deeply out of touch with current events.”
“current events,” you repeated.
“yes,” he said, nodding once, very serious about this. “new data has come to light.”
“and that data is?”
“i need you.”
a beat.
“please.” he stared at you, eyes dark and glassy, lips swollen. his hands flexed on your hips like he was scared you’d vanish. for a heartbeat the only sound was your ragged breathing and the low hum of the ship.
“i tried— i really fucking tried to be good. but this dust is evil and you were just right next door and you look too good in that tank top and i’ve been losing my mind for hours. please.”
you raised an eyebrow, smirking. “oh, so that's what the staring was for earlier?”
“i.... well, i mean— yeah.” he stammered, realizing there is no point of pretending anymore.
you couldn't help but chuckled. “yeah, okay. the feeling's mutual.”
“yeah?” he laughed too.
“yeah.”
“can i kiss you again then?”
you smiled. “thought you'd never asked.”
this time it was him who surged forward, kissing you slower this time, deeper, letting the burn build deliberately. his glasses fogged up immediately, the lenses clouding over from the combined heat of your breaths. he didn’t take them off. didn’t even reach for them. just kept kissing you through the haze, like the fog made it somehow hotter. your fingers traced his jaw, his neck, the rapid flutter of his pulse. he shivered under your touch.
you walked him backward toward the bunk without breaking the kiss. when his knees hit the edge he sat down heavily, pulling you with him so you straddled his lap. the new position pressed you right against the hard line of him, making you both gasp into each other’s mouths.
slowly, you started undressing each other. your hands slid under his shirt, palms mapping the warm, flushed skin of his chest. he lifted his arms so you could tug it off. you tossed it somewhere behind you, leaving him in only his glasses. he returned the favor, peeling your tank top up inch by inch, kissing every new strip of skin he revealed. your stomach, the underside of your breast, your collarbone, until the fabric was gone.
his fingers hooked into the waistband of your shorts. you rose up on your knees so he could slide them down your thighs along with your underwear. you kicked them away. then you focused on his shorts, tugging them down slowly, savoring the way his breath hitched when you freed him.
naked now, you settled back onto his lap, skin to skin. the contact was electric. you took your time, rocking gently against him without taking him inside yet, just feeling the slide and heat while you kissed him lazily, tongues tangling in slow, filthy strokes.
you reached between your bodies, wrapping your hand around him. he groaned loud, head tipping back, the sound vibrating through his chest. “fuck— your hand feels so good,” he breathed, hips twitching up into your grip. “please don’t tease me— been dying for this.”
“you sure about this?” you murmured against his lips between kisses, giving him one last out even as your hips rolled in a slow, teasing circle.
“never been more sure of anything in my life,” he breathed, hands gripping your thighs.
you laughed softly into his mouth, the sound turning into a moan when he shifted his hips just right. one of his hands slid between your bodies, fingers exploring with gentle, curious touches until you were trembling.
only then did you reach down, wrap your hand around him, and guide him to your entrance. you sank down inch by torturous inch, both of you moaning at the slow, perfect stretch. when you were fully seated you stayed there for a long moment, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other in while your bodies adjusted.
then you started to move.
slow rolls of your hips at first, savoring every drag and press. ryland’s head tipped back, exposing the long line of his throat. you leaned in to kiss along his jaw, his neck, sucking lightly at his pulse point while you rode him with deliberate, unhurried patience. his hands roamed your back, your sides, your breasts, learning every curve like it was new data he needed to memorize.
gradually the rhythm built. your movements grew deeper, harder. the bunk creaked steadily. soft gasps and moans filled the small room. his fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles that made your rhythm falter and your breath catch.
“ryland— fuck, just like that—”
“you feel so good,” he panted, voice breaking on the words. “oh, baby— don’t stop, please—”
it hit you like a solar flare. you cried out his name loud, clenching around him hard, hips stuttering through the waves. he followed right after, burying himself deep with a broken, guttural moan.
“yes— fuck— coming— inside you— god, you’re perfect— take it all—”
you collapsed against his chest, both of you trembling, hearts hammering in sync. his arms wrapped around you tight, holding you close while the aftershocks rolled through, glasses still fogged and slightly askew on his nose.
for a long moment, neither of you said anything.
you were half sprawled across him, one leg tangled with his, your arm draped somewhere over his chest like you’d both simply.... collapsed and decided to stay that way. the room was quiet except for your breathing, slowly evening out, though not nearly fast enough to feel normal.
ryland was staring at the ceiling.
very intently.
like it had just revealed the meaning of life and he was still processing it.
“....so,” you said eventually.
“so,” he echoed.
another pause.
you shifted slightly, propping your chin on his chest so you could look at him. “on a scale from one to ‘we should never speak of this again,’ where are you at?”
he didn’t look at you.
“....i’m considering faking amnesia.”
you snorted. “wow. rude.”
“i’m kidding,” he said quickly, then paused. “mostly.”
“mostly,” you repeated.
“okay, no, that sounded worse than i meant it,” he said, finally turning his head toward you, eyes wide like he was trying to fix it in real time. “i don’t regret it. i do not regret it. i just—” he gestured vaguely with one hand, which was difficult considering you were partially pinning him down, “—need a second to emotionally catch up with my own life choices.”
you raised an eyebrow. “your life choices led you to space.”
“for the record, i did not consent to that.”
fair, but you ignored him. “and then to alien pollen.”
“unfortunately, yes.”
“and then to me.”
he hesitated.
“that part i’m less willing to categorize as a mistake.”
you stared at him for a second.
then narrowed your eyes. “that was almost smooth.”
“thank you,” he said. “i panicked halfway through it.”
“i could tell.”
another stretch of quiet settled in, but it was different now. looser. like the tension that had been buzzing under your skin all day had finally burned itself out, leaving something softer in its place.
“....for the record,” you added after a moment, “your ‘being quiet’ plan earlier? terrible.”
he made a strangled noise. “oh my god.”
“like, impressively bad,” you continued. “i heard everything.”
“you did not hear everything.”
“ryland.”
he covered his face with both hands, cheeks heated up. “i would like to be ejected into space now.”
“denied,” you said immediately. “we need you for the mission.”
“please, just kill me already.”
“also,” you added, very seriously, “for future reference, the wall is not soundproof.”
“i have gathered that,” he said into his hands.
“just making sure.”
he peeked at you through his fingers. “....are you going to bring this up again later?”
“oh, constantly.”
“i walked into that one.”
“you really did.”
another quiet moment passed.
you could feel his breathing steady under you now, less uneven, less strained.
“....hey,” he said after a while.
“yeah?”
there was a small pause before he spoke again, like he was choosing his words more carefully this time. “are you okay?”
it caught you off guard.
not the question itself, but the way he asked it. steady. grounded, like he needed the answer to mean something.
you blinked, then nodded. “yeah,” you said, softer. “i am.”
he turned his head then, just enough to look at you properly, like he needed the visual confirmation to go with it.
“okay,” he said finally, the word carrying more weight than it should have. “i'm glad.”
you nudged him lightly with your shoulder, a small, grounding kind of contact. “you?”
he let out a breath that sounded like it had been stuck somewhere in his chest for a while. “yeah. i think so. which is honestly surprising, given.... everything.”
another quiet stretch settled over you, but it wasn’t awkward. not really. just calm, in a slightly surreal, post haze kind of way.
eventually, the exhaustion caught up with you. real, actual exhaustion this time. not the restless, jittery kind from before.
you shifted closer without thinking, your head settling more comfortably against him.
he stilled for half a second then relaxed. his arm tightening just slightly around you.
“also,” he added, voice softer now, almost drowsy, “for the record…. i don’t regret it.”
your chest tightened. you didn’t lift your head, didn’t look at him. just let the words settle somewhere quiet inside you.
“…me neither,” you murmured.
that was the last coherent thing either of you said.
because a few minutes later, the exhaustion finally won.
thank u for all the love for this fic and "the love thing". i get overwhelmed easily so apologies for not being able to reply to ur comments and reblogs but i promise i see each one of them 🤎🤎
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hi everyone. just a heads up that i'm taking a break rn from writing and from this blog. i have nothing in my drafts to post and i'm also going through some personal stuff with my mental health. i promise this is not permanent. i'll be back if i have something to share. i'll see u when i see u ♥️♥️
summary when riya randhawa's best friend shoves her phone across the table with a photo of some science teacher named ryland grace with hair sticking up like he'd either just been electrocuted or was cosplaying dr. doofenshmirtz from phineas and ferb and begs her to go on a blind date with the guy, riya was skeptical. but she decides to go anyway. after all, she has had worse blind dates. what could go wrong?
content 18+. smut. vaginal sex. oral sex. protected sex. no astrophage/rocky/hail mary au (can also be read as pre-canon). blind date. teacher!ryland. 3rd pov.
a/n wrote this for my fellow brown baddies :) my first time writing an oc + 3rd pov fic so be nice. i hope u guys can still enjoy it even if you're not the target audience :) english is not my first language
masterlist | read on ao3
here are three reasons why riya randhawa hated blind dates:
1) the last one had spent twenty minutes explaining why he preferred "traditional" women (meaning: obedient, quiet, and willing to iron his shirts).
2) the one before that had shown up drunk, spilled red wine on her favorite dress, and cried about his ex.
3) but the worst? there was a guy who'd spent the entire dinner mansplaining her own job to her despite the fact she'd been in her position for almost six years already and he makes less than her in a year.
honorary mention: alice, her best friend since highschool, thinks that just because they both had their first sexual awakenings while watching robert redford in 'all the president's men' in the 11th grade, it means that they also shared the same taste in men, in which alice thought riya would also be into the kind of guys who unironically used the phrase "nice guys finish last." riya didn't. in fact, she cringed when it happened.
but when alice shoved her phone across the table with a photo of some science teacher named ryland grace with hair sticking up like he'd either just been electrocuted or was cosplaying dr. doofenshmirtz from phineas and ferb, riya raised an eyebrow.
"seriously?"
"trust me," alice insisted. "he's not like the others."
"that's what you said with the last guy." riya paused for a dramatic effect. "he was a flat earther."
"how was i supposed to know? that guy was a geologist!" alice groaned, shoving another bite of pad thai into her mouth. "but ryland's different. i swear. he's a middle school science teacher, he's the type of guy who literally only has one fork and one spoon in his drawer because he lives alone, his favourite movie is notting hill, he has a cat named albert after albert einstein—"
"you're describing a serial killer," riya deadpanned. when she took another glance at his photo, she added: "in fact, look at how much this guy looks like jeffrey dahmer. with the glasses and all. not to mention dahmer's favourite movie was return of the jedi."
alice's forehead creased as she snatched her phone back. "why would i set you up with him if he was a serial killer? look at him. he's literally the least threatening person alive. he's the type of guy who would sing telephone by lady gaga when he's walking behind you in a dark alley so you wouldn't think he's a threat."
a beat. riya blinked. "that's oddly specific."
"a man is ten times hotter when he listens to gaga." alice nodded to herself like she just delivered a ted talk. "swear on my entire collection of dusty robert redford dvds."
that made riya go still. "do not use that card right now."
"oh, i'm doing it." alice smirked like a villain who knew she'd already won. "robert redford in indecent proposal."
riya groaned, biting her lip. "fine. but if this guy turns out to be another disaster, i'm burning your dvds."
alice grinned, already typing out a text. "deal. but you're gonna thank me when you see him in person."
"yeah, yeah, whatever." riya muttered, but she didn’t argue further. mostly because she was already mentally preparing her escape routes if this went south. again.
"okay so thursday, seven pm. it's an italian place. i'll send you the location. not too fancy, not too casual. you need to wear that black dress that made your ass look—"
***
the night of the date, riya arrived ten minutes late on purpose. just enough to make it clear she wasn’t desperate, not enough to be rude.
she wore something that she promised alice she would wear, only because alice wouldn't stop harassing her with video calls from her night shift, demanding to see what she was putting on. it was a simple black dress that hugged her curves nicely. the straps go around the back of her neck, leaving the shoulders and upper back bare. the neckline is cut straight across and hemline fells just in the middle of her calves.
but ryland grace didn’t wait at the table. he was pacing back and forth in front of the restaurant like a nervous penguin, hands shoved deep into his coat, shoulders hunched against the evening chill. he was wearing a white dress shirt with black stripes under a brown coat that looked one size too big for him.
when ryland spotted riya, he took a double take—like he wasn’t expecting her to actually show up. then he tripped over his own feet when he processed what she was wearing.
"oh god," ryland muttered under his breath as he scrambled to catch himself before face-planting onto the sidewalk. then he straightened up, adjusting his glasses. "sorry. hi. hello. you’re riya? i mean, obviously you’re riya. i have your picture— i mean, i didn't stalk you! alice sent it to me so i'd know what you look like— not that i needed it because you’re— this is going poorly."
riya blinked. then, against her better judgment, she laughed. "yeah, no kidding."
she tilted her head, studying him. up close, he looked less like a serial killer and more like someone who regularly forgot to eat lunch. his hair was even more chaotic in person, sticking up in three different directions. "you’re ryland, right? the guy who owns one fork and worships notting hill?"
"oh god, she told you about that." ryland groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "look, i swear i’m not as pathetic as alice makes me sound."
"i don't think you're pathetic. you're kind of cute." riya chuckled, eyeing him up and down boldly. why should she be shy when he was the one tripping over himself?
ryland blinked, clearly unprepared for her frankness. "uh. thanks? i mean— yeah. you're—wow. like, really wow. i— sorry. i'm terrible at this."
riya smirked. she noticed the way his fingers twitched at his sides, the way his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. when he nervously smile at her, it wasn't in a performative, overconfident way of a guy who thought they'd ace the date before it even started but in a crooked, boyish way of a man who looked like he had practiced how to move his mouth in front of the mirror for 20 minutes before coming here.
he felt her eyes on him but did not return her gaze. he was trying to hard to be respectful, to not let his eyes wander longer and lower than necessary. but deep down ryland thought about how stunning she was under the dim glow of the streetlights, how the dress clung to her in ways that made his mouth dry.
"you're taller than i expected." riya hadn't meant to say it out loud. the words slipped out before she could stop them. she pressed her lips together, mentally cursing herself.
ryland laughed. it was like a startled, genuine sound that made the corners of his eyes crinkled.
"i get that a lot. i swear i'm not compensating for anything." he held up his hands in mock surrender, then hesitated, as if realizing how that sounded. "uhh, not that— that's not what i was—"
riya snorted, the tension in her shoulders unraveling just a fraction. "relax, i wasn’t implying anything."
ryland grinned, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.
"right. yeah. sorry." he fumbled for the door handle before finally pulling it open with an exaggerated flourish. "after you."
riya entered first, and she swore she heard ryland sucking in a sharp breath when she walked past him. her scent hit his nose. something light but enchanting, nothing like the overpowering perfumes he’d encountered on past dates.
the restaurant was dimly lit, the kind of place where the hum of conversation blended with the clinking of silverware. ryland pulled out her chair before she could do it herself, and riya found herself fighting a smirk at how earnest he was, like he'd read a guidebook on first dates and was determined to follow every rule even if his fingers fumbled with the menu.
the other thing riya noticed was how ryland ordered for both of them. it was not in a controlling way, but with the confidence of someone who’d memorized the menu beforehand.
"the gnocchi’s good here," he murmured, leaning slightly across the table, "but if you’d rather have something else—"
"no, that’s fine." she surprised herself by meaning it. usually, she’d bristle at a man assuming her order, but ryland had said it like he was sharing a secret, not imposing a choice.
the gnocchi was indeed good. soft pillows of dough that melted against her tongue, drenched in a sage butter sauce that made her hum in approval. ryland watched her take the first bite, his fork hovering mid-air, eyes tracking her reaction like a scientist observing a fascinating experiment.
"good?" he asked, voice low, and when she nodded, his shoulders relaxed as if she’d just given him a passing grade on a test he’d spent weeks studying for.
"so alice mentioned that you were a scientist before teaching?" riya swirled her fork in the gnocchi, watching ryland’s face flicker with something between surprise and resignation.
"ah." he rubbed the back of his neck. "she wasn’t supposed to lead with that."
"why not?"
"because then i have to explain why i left, and that’s…. not a first date material." he gestured vaguely with his wine glass.
riya arched a brow. "now i have to know."
ryland smiled nervously, swirling the wine in his glass before taking a sip. "it's not that interesting, honestly. i just... hit a wall. research wasn’t what i thought it’d be."
then he shrugged, like it didn’t matter, but riya caught the way his fingers tightened around the stem of his glass. "middle schoolers are terrifying, but at least their problems are solvable. even if it's just helping them figure out why their volcano didn't erupt for the science fair."
"you're telling me," riya said, shaking her head as she stabbed another piece of gnocchi, "that you left research…. actual, serious science…. to deal with thirteen-year-olds?"
ryland laughed, and it was such an easy sound that riya found herself leaning forward without meaning to. "oh, absolutely. see, thirteen-year-olds are honest. if they think you're boring, they'll yawn right in your face. if they think you're wrong, they'll tell you. no passive-aggressive emails from the department head, no politics."
the conversation flowed easier than riya expected. ryland didn’t mansplain, didn’t interrupt, didn’t try to steer the topic back to himself. when she mentioned her job, he asked thoughtful questions. not the performative kind, but the ones that made her pause and actually think before answering. halfway through dessert (tiramisu, because ryland had insisted with a bashful, "trust me, it’s worth the calories"), she realized she hadn’t checked her phone once.
when the bill came, riya pretended to not have enough money in her account and wanted to pay in cash, but ryland insisted on covering it. not with the arrogance of a man who thought paying meant ownership, but with a sheepish shrug and a mumbled "next time’s on you?" that made her stomach flip in a way she hadn’t felt in years.
they stepped out into the cool night air, shoulders brushing as they walked toward her apartment. the silence between them wasn’t awkward, just charged. like the moment before a storm breaks. riya could feel the warmth of ryland’s arm against hers, the way his fingers twitched every few steps like he wanted to reach for her hand but wasn’t sure if he should. she didn’t help him. let him sweat a little, she thought, biting back a smirk.
"so," ryland said, clearing his throat. "alice mentioned you live alone?"
"mhm." riya glanced sideways at him. "why? you planning to murder me?"
ryland choked on air.
"no! i was just—" he gestured vaguely, "—making conversation. but now i realize how that sounded."
riya broke into a tiny laugh. "if it helps, i thought you were a serial killer at first."
"you thought—" ryland blinked, then laughed, the sound low and warm against the hum of distant traffic. "alice showed me your photo and my first thought was, 'she’s definitely the type to carry pepper spray and know exactly where to stab someone with a car key.'"
riya snorted, nudging his shoulder with hers. "you’re not wrong."
"yeah, well." he grinned, bumping her shoulder lightly. "you’re still here, so i must be doing something right."
she didn’t reply, but she also didn’t pull away when his fingers brushed against hers, accidentally at first, then deliberately, his pinky hooking around hers like a question. riya answered by threading their fingers together properly, and ryland exhaled sharply, as if he’d been holding his breath.
her apartment building loomed ahead, and riya slowed, suddenly unsure.
"so, uh. you wanna come up?" she cringed internally at how cliché it sounded, but ryland’s eyes lit up like she’d just offered him a nobel prize.
"yes," he blurted, then cleared his throat. "i mean— if that’s okay. yeah."
the elevator ride was quiet, their reflections blurring in the polished metal doors. ryland stood close enough that she could smell the faint citrus of his cologne mixed with the lingering scent of wine. when the doors opened, he hovered awkwardly at her threshold until she rolled her eyes and tugged him inside.
her place was neat. not sterile, but lived-in. ryland’s gaze darted around like he was cataloging details.
"you have plants," he observed, touching a leaf on her monstera. "i kill every plant i touch."
"shocking," she deadpanned, toeing off her heels. "a science teacher who can’t keep a plant alive."
ryland laughed, rubbing his neck. his gaze flicked to her couch, then away.
"so… uhh, how long have you been living alone?" ryland regretted the question as soon as it left his mouth. he's really not helping the serial killer allegation.
riya snorted, tossing her keys into the bowl by the door with a clatter.
"three years," she said, kicking off her heels with more force than necessary. "after i finished college i told my parents i'd rather eat ramen for the rest of my life than move back home."
ryland went silent. he wanted to ask further but decided against it. instead, he settled on something closer. "how many siblings do you have?"
"just one. she's thirteen but i'm starting to suspect that she might be the second coming of satan."
she then glanced over her shoulder at ryland, who was hovering by the bookshelf like a lost puppy. "you gonna stand there all night or what?"
he blinked, then stepped forward, hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.
“right. yeah. sorry.” his voice was a little rough around the edges, like he’d been holding his breath too long.
riya watched him, amused, as he took another hesitant step into her apartment, his eyes darting from the bookshelf to the kitchen island like he was trying to memorize the layout.
“you can sit, you know,” she said, nodding toward the couch.
ryland laughed, but it came out shaky, like his nerves were vibrating just beneath his skin.
"noted," he murmured, sinking onto the couch with all the grace of a man who'd just been told his shoelaces were untied.
riya watched him for a moment. the way his knees kept bouncing, how his gaze kept flicking to her mouth and then away.
she moved toward the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of wine from the fridge. "want a drink?"
"uhh." ryland hovered near the couch, hands shoved in his pockets like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to sit. "yes? i mean— yeah. wine’s good."
riya poured two glasses, handing him one with a smirk before settling down beside him.
"you're nervous," she observed, watching his fingers tighten around the stem. "don't worry. i don't bite. unless you're into that."
ryland choked on his first sip, coughing into his elbow. his ears turned pink, visible even in the dim light of her apartment.
riya's smirk widened, swirling her wine before taking a slow sip, watching him over the rim of her glass. ryland’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his fingers twitching against the stem of his glass like he was mentally reciting the periodic table to calm himself down. the silence stretched. not awkward, but thick with something neither of them wanted to name yet.
"so," riya finally said, tilting her head. "you’re not a serial killer."
"not today," ryland muttered into his wine, then froze, eyes widening. "that was a joke. i swear. i’ve never killed anyone. not even a goldfish— well, okay, maybe a goldfish but that was an accident in fourth grade, and i still feel guilty about it—"
riya snorted, setting her glass down on the coffee table with a deliberate clink.
"relax, grace. if i thought you were dangerous, you wouldn’t be here." she stepped closer, close enough to see the way his pupils dilated when her knee brushed against his. "but you are nervous."
ryland exhaled sharply, his fingers flexing around his glass before he set it aside.
"yeah. a little." his voice was rough, lower than she’d heard it all night.
"you’re… you’re very—" he gestured vaguely at her, then seemed to regret it.
"very what?" she prompted, leaning in just enough to watch his breath hitch.
"intimidating," he admitted, his gaze flicking down to her mouth. "in a good way."
riya hummed, tracing a finger along the rim of her glass. "yeah? what do you do when you’re nervous, mr. science teacher? recite the quadratic formula?"
ryland laughed, the sound dissolving into a groan when her fingers brushed against his wrist.
"usually, yeah. but right now, though?" his hand turned, catching hers, his thumb tracing the delicate bones of her knuckles. "i’m thinking about kissing you."
"thinking," riya echoed, arching a brow. "not doing?"
ryland’s breath stuttered, but he didn’t move. "wasn’t sure if that’d be—"
"you think i invited you up just to talk?" riya murmured, her fingers curling around ryland’s collar before he could answer. his breath hitched, sharp and audible as she tugged him forward, closing the distance between them.
his lips were warm, slightly chapped, and he froze for a heartbeat before melting into her, hands coming up to cradle her face like she was something precious. when she pulled back, his pupils were blown wide.
"you—" he started, then stopped, swallowing hard. "was that—?"
"shut up," she murmured and kissed him again, harder this time. ryland gasped, his hands slid down to her waist, fingers shaking. he held her like he was afraid she would vanish if he pressed too hard. but when she bit his lower lip, the last shred of his hesitation snapped. he crowded her, lying her on the couch, his body fitting perfectly between her legs.
his mouth was hot against hers, hungry in a way that she never expected from him. like he’d been holding back the entire night and only now remembered how to breathe. riya arched into him, fingers tangling in his hair, and he groaned low in his throat when she tugged.
"fuck," he muttered against her lips, voice rough. "you— god, you’re—"
"still talking," she teased, but her breath hitched when his hands slid under her dress, palms skimming up her thighs. hesitant near her ass, like he was afraid of overstepping.
riya rolled her eyes and grabbed his wrist, guiding it firmly where she wanted them. "jeez, grace. you gonna act like a teenager or are you gonna fuck me?"
ryland groaned before crushing his mouth to hers again, hands finally moving with purpose, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass, big hand covering the cheek entirely. she felt his grip tighten, testing, then relax as if worried he’d hurt her until she ground against him, letting out a low noise of approval.
"bedroom," she managed between kisses, sucking his tongue into her mouth just to feel him shudder. "now."
he didn’t need to be told twice. his hands slid down to her thighs, lifting her effortlessly. riya gasped at his strength, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he carried her down the hallway, barely breaking the kiss even as he fumbled with the doorknob. the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed, and ryland followed her down, his weight pressing her into the mattress with a groan.
"are you sure? i mean, we don't have to if—" ryland started, his breath hot against her neck. riya silenced him with a bite to his collarbone, fingers already working at the buttons of his shirt.
"god, shut up," she muttered, shoving the fabric off his shoulders.
pause.
"my god, you're ripped?!"
the words tumbled out before riya could stop them, her fingers pausing mid-unbutton against ryland’s chest. beneath her touch, his muscles tensed. arms and biceps she hadn’t noticed under his stupidly wholesome cardigan now flexing under her palms. chest sculpted like he ran marathons for fun, not like someone who spent weekends grading papers and watching documentaries. abs (actual fucking abs) rippling as he laughed nervously, cheeks flushing.
"uh, yeah." ryland rubbed the back of his neck again, a nervous tic she was starting to find endearing.
"i was bullied in highschool. skinny arms, glasses, the whole cliché. started lifting weights in college and just... never stopped."
his voice dropped, almost embarrassed. "helps with stress. middle schoolers don’t respect you if you look like you’d cry if they threw a paper airplane at you."
riya snorted, dragging her nails lightly down his chest just to watch him shiver. "and here i thought alice undersold you. she called you ‘awkward and nerdy,’ not ‘awkward, nerdy, and built like a movie star."
ryland’s laugh was breathless, his hands skimming up her thighs beneath the black dress.
"movie star’s pushing it," he muttered, but the way his fingers trembled against her skin betrayed him.
"still nervous?" riya whispered against his mouth, her fingers tracing the hard lines of his abdomen. she felt his breath hitch when her nails scraped lower, dipping just beneath the waistband of his pants.
ryland exhaled sharply through his nose, his grip tightening on her hips.
"terrified. but not— not in a bad way. just don’t wanna fuck this up." he admitted, voice rough, his thumb brushed the inside of her thigh, feather-light, testing.
riya grinned, arching into his touch. "you won’t." she hooked a finger into his belt loop, yanking him closer until she could feel the heat of him against her. "unless you keep stalling."
he groaned, dropping his forehead to her shoulder. his teeth grazed her collarbone, sending a shiver down her spine. "bossy."
"you like it," she countered, rolling her hips just to hear him curse under his breath.
he did like it.
"can i...?" his fingers were near her zipper, hesitating like one of his own students who's afraid to raise his hand in class.
riya rolled her eyes and reached back, unzipping the dress herself in one smooth motion. the fabric pooled around her waist, leaving her in nothing but black lace and ryland's stunned expression.
"holy—" he breathed, his gaze flickering from her breasts to her face and back again, like he couldn’t decide where to look first.
she smirked. "you're so cute when you're flustered."
ryland's throat worked as he swallowed hard, his fingers hovering over her ribs, before riya sighed and took his hands to cup his breasts herself. "oh my god, just touch me already."
he did finally, and the second his palms covered her, riya arched off the mattress with a gasp. his thumbs brushed her nipples through the lace, slow and reverent, and she dug her nails into his shoulders just to feel him shudder.
"oh my god," ryland muttered, his voice ragged as he he finally tugged the lace aside to take her properly into his mouth, riya let out a noise she didn’t recognize, high and desperate as his tongue circled her nipple, teeth grazing just enough to make her hips jerk. his hands were everywhere, sliding under her ass to lift her closer, fingers digging into flesh like he was afraid she’d disappear.
she was drowning in him. the heat of his mouth, the scrape of his stubble against her skin, the way his hips rolled against hers with barely restrained urgency. riya tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging just to hear the broken groan vibrate against her breast.
"you're so beautiful." he said as he pulled away, fingers hooking on the waistband of her panties, breath uneven. riya bit her lip, watching his pupils dilate further when she lifted her hips in invitation. black lace slid down her thighs, discarded somewhere near the foot of the bed, and ryland exhaled like he'd been punched. he hesitated again just for a second before dragging his hand up her inner thigh, achingly slow.
"tell me what you like," he murmured against her skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the crease of her hip. his voice was wrecked, rough with want, but the question was so earnest it made her chest ache.
"less talking," riya gasped, spreading her legs wider, her heel digging into the small of his back. "more—"
ryland didn’t need to be told twice. his mouth was on her before she could finish the sentence, hot and wet.
"fuck," riya gasped, fingers twisting in the sheets. the first swipe of his tongue was slow, experimental, mapping her out like a terrain he wanted to memorize. the second was firmer, deliberate, curling just beneath her clit in a way that made her thighs tremble. by the third, riya was panting, her heels digging into his shoulders as he settled between her legs with a devotion that bordered on worship.
"you— holy shit— ryland—" she managed, her voice breaking on the last word as he sucked her clit into his mouth, tongue flicking against it in quick, relentless circles. riya's fingers twisted in his hair, pulling hard enough to hurt, but he only groaned against her, the vibration sending sparks up her spine.
riya had expected awkwardness. hesitant licks, misplaced fingers, the fumbling enthusiasm of a man who’d read too many wikihow articles and not enough actual bodies. what she got was ryland grace eating her out like he’d been training for this his entire life. his tongue moved with precision, alternating between broad, languid strokes and sharp, focused flicks that had her thighs shaking within minutes. when she arched off the bed with a gasp, his palm settled on her lower stomach, holding her down like he knew exactly how badly she wanted to squirm away from the intensity of it all.
"fuck—" riya’s voice cracked as his tongue dipped inside her, curling just enough to make her see stars. she’d been fucked before, but never like this. never with this kind of single-minded focus, like she was the only thing that mattered to him. like he wanted to map every noise and twitch until he had her memorized. when his thumb brushed her clit in tandem with his tongue, she nearly sobbed, her back bowing off the mattress. "oh my god, don’t stop—"
ryland didn’t. if anything, he doubled down, his free hand sliding up to palm her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers in a rhythm that matched the relentless circles of his tongue. riya’s vision blurred at the edges, her fingers scrabbling for purchase in the sheets. she’d never come this fast with anyone, never felt this unraveled. but ryland was everywhere, his scent, his touch, the scrape of his stubble against her inner thighs. when she finally came, it was with a broken cry, her thighs clamping around his head as he rode her through it, his tongue gentling but not stopping until she shoved at his shoulders, oversensitive and trembling.
he pulled back just enough to look up at her, his lips and nose glistening, his cheeks flushed, glasses fogging.
"good?" he asked, voice wrecked, like it was the only word his brain could form. riya let out a breathless laugh, her fingers trailing down to wipe his chin, still damp from her.
"you're asking me?"
ryland grinned, boyish and bright even as he crawled up her body, his weight settling between her thighs. she could feel him, hard and hot against her stomach and the way his breath hitched when she wrapped a hand around him made her pulse kick.
"fuck," he muttered, his forehead dropping to hers. "you're—"
"still talking," she finished for him, squeezing just enough to feel him twitch in her grip. she expected hesitation, but ryland surprised her again, his hand covering hers to guide her strokes with a confidence that made her stomach flip. when he kissed her this time, it was messy, desperate, his tongue sliding against hers with the same rhythm as his hips against her hand. she could taste herself on his lips, and the thought alone made her moan into his mouth.
"condom," she managed between kisses, her free hand fumbling for her nightstand. ryland beat her to it, pulling one from the drawer with a speed that suggested he’d been hoping for this outcome all night. the foil packet crinkled between them, and riya took it from him, tearing it open with her teeth just to watch his pupils blow wider. he groaned as she rolled it onto him, her fingers lingering just a second too long at the base. riya smirked, dragging him closer until the head of him brushed against her, both of them shuddering at the contact.
"still nervous?" she breathed, arching up to nip at his jaw. ryland exhaled sharply, his hands gripping her hips like she might vanish if he blinked.
"y-yeah," he admitted, but the way he pressed into her, slow, gentle, like he was savoring every inch said otherwise. riya’s breath caught as he filled her, her nails digging into his shoulders as he bottomed out with a groan that vibrated through her chest.
for a moment, neither of them moved. just breathing each other in, foreheads pressed together, the only sound the rustle of sheets and their ragged breaths.
"fuck— you're big—" the words slipped out before riya could stop them, her body arching instinctively to accommodate him.
ryland froze, his hips stuttering like he'd been electrocuted.
"oh, god— am i hurting you?" his voice was ragged, his fingers trembling where they gripped her thighs.
"no," she gasped, rolling her hips experimentally just to watch his jaw clench. "just— wasn’t expecting it."
ryland’s laugh was strained, his forehead dropping to hers as he adjusted his angle. "alice really left out all the important details, huh?"
"shut up," riya groaned, hooking her legs around his waist to pull him deeper. the stretch was delicious, just shy of too much, and when ryland finally moved, a slow and torturous drag, her vision blurred at the edges. "oh my god—"
he set a rhythm that was maddening, each thrust deep and measured, like he was afraid of breaking her. riya dug her nails into his shoulders, her heels pressing into the small of his back.
"harder," she demanded, biting his earlobe. "i won’t— fuck— i won't break."
ryland groaned, his control fraying as he obeyed, snapping his hips forward with a force that knocked the breath from her lungs. the headboard slammed against the wall, the sound loud enough to make riya laugh until he hit that spot, and her laughter dissolved into a choked cry.
"there?" ryland panted, his voice rough with satisfaction when she could only nod, her fingers scrambling for purchase against his sweat-slicked skin. he angled himself to hit it again, and again, until riya was gasping, her thighs trembling around him.
"you feel so good— so tight." the words spilled from ryland’s lips like a prayer, ragged and reverent, as he fucked her with a rhythm that was equal parts desperation and precision. riya’s back arched off the mattress, her fingers scrabbling at the sheets as he drove into her again, the angle just right to make her see stars.
she’d had sex before. good sex, even, but this was something else. the way ryland moved, like he was trying to memorize her body with his own, like every gasp and whimper was a note in a song he was composing just for her.
"faster," she demanded more, her voice cracking as she dug her heels into his ass, pulling him deeper. ryland groaned, his hips stuttering for a fraction of a second before he obeyed, his thrusts turning sharp and erratic. his hands slid under her, lifting her hips to meet him with each snap of his pelvis, the new angle sending a shockwave of pleasure up her spine.
"god, you’re perfect," ryland gasped, his forehead pressed to hers, his breath hot against her lips. riya could feel the tremble in his thighs as he held himself back, his control fraying at the edges. she arched into him, her fingers twisting in his hair, pulling just enough to make him groan.
don’t hold back," she whispered, her voice raw. "i want all of you."
the words shattered whatever restraint he had left. ryland’s hips snapped forward, driving into her with a force that sent her sliding up the mattress, the sheets bunching beneath her. riya cried out, her legs locking around him, her nails scoring down his back as pleasure coiled tight in her stomach. ryland’s mouth found her neck, his teeth scraping over her pulse point before soothing the sting with his tongue.
riya could feel it building, that tight, electric coil of pleasure low in her stomach, but ryland seemed determined to drag it out, his thrusts slowing just when she was teetering on the edge.
"close?" ryland's voice was rough, his breath hot against her throat as he slowed his hips, teasing her with shallow thrusts that made her whimper.
riya growled, her nails digging into his biceps. "don't— fucking— stop—"
ryland’s laugh was dark, his breath hot against her throat as he obliged, slamming into her with a force that knocked the headboard against the wall again. his hands sliding under her hips to tilt her just right and then she was coming undone, her back arching off the mattress as pleasure ripped through her like a live wire. her cry was muffled against his shoulder, her teeth sinking into his skin as she trembled through it, ryland’s name a broken gasp against his collarbone.
he didn’t let up, chasing his own release with frantic, uneven thrusts until his rhythm stuttered, his hips jerking as he buried himself deep with a groan that vibrated through her chest.
for a long moment, neither of them moved. ryland’s weight pressed her into the mattress, his breath ragged against her neck as he slowly came back to himself. when he finally pulled out, it was with a wince and a muttered curse, his fingers gentle as they brushed a sweaty strand of hair from her forehead.
"okay?" he asked, voice rough with concern. riya laughed, boneless and sated, her limbs heavy with exhaustion.
"better than okay." she reached up, tracing the line of his jaw with her fingertips, amused by the way he leaned into her touch like a starved man. "alice undersold you. by a lot."
ryland’s grin was boyish and bright, even as he rolled onto his back beside her, one arm slung over his eyes. "glad to exceed expectations."
his fingers found hers in the tangle of sheets, lacing them together with a quiet certainty that made her chest ache. he kissed her then, slow and lazy, his fingers tangling in her hair like he had all the time in the world. riya melted into it, her body humming with satisfaction, until the buzz of ryland’s phone on the nightstand shattered the moment.
he groaned, pulling away just enough to glance at the screen. "shit. it’s my bedtime alarm."
riya blinked. of course ryland was the type to have a bedtime alarm. "you set an alarm?"
"i have first period," he admitted, rubbing a hand over his face. "gotta be at school by seven."
"you’re joking." she stared at him, her nose wrinkling. "who the hell schedules a date on a school night?"
ryland laughed, pressing a kiss to her shoulder as he sat up. "someone who didn’t think he’d get this far."
riya watched him pad across the room, her eyes tracing the lean lines of his back, the way his muscles shifted under his skin. "you’re leaving?"
he paused, half-dressed, his shirt hanging open. "do you want me to stay?"
the question hung between them, heavier than it should’ve been. riya hesitated. she wasn’t the type to ask for more, wasn’t the type to want it. but ryland’s gaze was steady, his fingers lingering on the last button of his shirt like he’d wait all night for her answer.
"yes." the word slipped out before she could stop it, soft and uncharacteristically vulnerable. ryland’s expression softened, his shoulders relaxing as he let the shirt slide back off his arms.
"okay," he murmured, like it was that simple. maybe it was. he climbed back into bed, his body warm against hers as he pulled her close. riya tucked her head under his chin, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips was oddly comforting, a stark contrast to the frenetic energy of the night before.
she hadn’t expected this. the quiet, the ease of it. she’d expected awkwardness, maybe regret. not this. only this time, only with ryland, the contrast felt welcome.
the morning light filtered through riya’s blinds in thin, golden stripes, painting ryland’s bare shoulder in alternating bands of light and shadow. she blinked awake slowly, the events of last night settling into her memory with a warmth that curled low in her stomach. ryland was already stirring beside her, his limbs tangled in her sheets, glasses askew on the nightstand where they’d been discarded in haste. his hair was even more of a disaster now, sticking up in every direction like he’d been caught in a wind tunnel.
"what time’s it?" he mumbled, voice thick with sleep, his fingers brushing her waist absently as he turned his head to squint at her alarm clock. the movement made the sheets shift, revealing the sharp line of his hipbone, and riya resisted the urge to trace it with her fingertips.
"quarter past six." riya murmured, watching as ryland’s eyes widened with a sudden panic. he bolted upright, sheets pooling around his waist, and the sight of him bare and utterly disheveled sent a stupid little thrill through her chest.
"shoot— i have first period at eight." he scrambled off the bed, nearly tripping on his own clothes in his haste.
riya couldn’t help but laugh. "you’re a mess."
"and you’re distracting," he shot back, but the way his ears pinked betrayed him. he rifled through the pile of discarded clothes on her floor, shoving his arms through his wrinkled shirt sleeves with a haste that made the fabric twist awkwardly. riya stood too, grabbing her own clothes and dressing back as she watched him struggle. "need help?"
ryland paused, his fingers fumbling with a button, before sighing in defeat. "...yes."
she grinned, padding over to him. his breath hitched when her fingers brushed his chest, deftly fixing the misaligned buttons.
"you’re really bad at mornings," she teased, smoothing the collar of his shirt with exaggerated care.
"i'm not a morning person," he admitted sheepishly, his hands hovering at her waist like he wasn’t sure where to put them, as if he didn't just put her through the mattress hours ago. riya had to resist the urge to kiss him stupid all over again.
a sharp ringtone shattered the moment. riya groaned, grabbing her phone off the nightstand. "amma" flashed on the screen, and she swiped to answer with a sigh. "hey—"
"rekha missed the bus," her mother said without preamble. "you’re close. can you drop her off?"
riya pinched the bridge of her nose. "where is baba? he’s supposed to—"
"he has an early meeting," her mother cut in, already distracted by something in the background. "just take her. she’ll be late."
the line went dead before riya could argue. ryland raised an eyebrow from where he was wrestling with his shoelaces. "trouble?"
"my demonic sister missed her bus," riya muttered, tossing the phone onto the bed and reaching for her discarded underwear. "i have to drive her to school."
ryland nodded, because he didn't know how else to react to that. "so uh, last night was—"
"great." riya finished for him, tugging on a pair of leggings and a loose t-shirt from the floor. she caught ryland's hesitant expression in the mirror as she finger-combed her tangled hair. she smiled, softer than she'd intended. "it was really great, ryland. i mean it."
ryland exhaled, shoulders relaxing as he straightened his tie, a nervous habit riya was already cataloguing.
"okay. good. great." he cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. "i should— my class has an exam today."
riya smirked, stepping into his space to straighten his crooked tie. "bet you’re terrifying during exams."
"not really, no." ryland laughed nervously, his fingers brushing hers as he took over the task. he hesitated, then leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, so unexpectedly sweet it made her chest tighten. "text me?"
riya's smile widened before she nodded, tucking her phone into her pocket. "yeah, i'll text you."
she watched ryland hesitate at her door, his fingers tapping against the frame like he was debating something, before he finally stepped out with a muttered "see you"—awkward to the last.
the door clicked shut behind him, leaving riya alone in the sudden quiet of her apartment. she exhaled, rubbing her temples. rekha. school. right.
riya grabbed her keys and jogged downstairs. she got into her car and drove to her parents' house, trying not to think about ryland's hands on her hips, his breath hot against her neck, the way he'd looked at her like she was the only thing mattered in this world.
rekha was already waiting outside when she pulled up, arms crossed, scowling.
"you took forever," the younger sister muttered, slamming the car door harder than necessary.
"missed the bus again?" riya asked, flicking her a glance in the rearview mirror as she pulled back onto the road.
rekha shrugged, staring out the window. "amma forgot to wake me up."
"oh my god, grow up. you're thirteen. set an alarm or something," riya said, turning onto the main road.
rekha rolled her eyes, slouching lower in the seat. "whatever. just drive."
the silence stretched for two blocks before rekha piped up again, nose wrinkling. her nostrils flared before she paused and riya could feel her little sister's eyes on her.
"what?" riya snapped, flicking rekha a glance as the car stopped at the red light.
rekha’s nose wrinkled further. "you smell weird."
riya’s fingers tightened on the wheel, avoiding her sister's terrifying gaze. "no, i do not."
"you do." rekha leaned into her, sniffing dramatically, her nose scrunched in disgust. "why do you smell like a man?"
riya's cheeks burned as she flicked the turn signal too hard. "no, i don't."
rekha made a gagging noise, flopping back against the seat. "ew. you totally do. it’s like—" she sniffed again, theatrical. "aftershave and sweat and—oh my god, did you have sex? wait, is that a hickey?!"
"what?!" riya flipped the mirror above the steering wheel toward her face, panic flaring, only to see nothing. she snapped it back with a glare and pinched rekha's arm. "you little shit."
rekha smirked, clearly enjoying herself. "but you did have sex."
"you're a child. that's none of your business," riya muttered, turning into the school parking lot with unnecessary force. the tires squeaked against the pavement, earning a delighted cackle from rekha.
"oh my god, you did!" rekha crowed, kicking her feet against the dashboard. "was it mr. thomas, your neighbour? he's always staring at your—"
"shut up," riya hissed, jerking the car to a stop near the entrance. she pointed at the clock on the dashboard. "you're late."
rekha stuck her tongue out but grabbed her backpack, scrambling out of the car.
"i'm telling mom!" she sing-songed before slamming the door. riya rolled her eyes, watching her sister jog toward the school entrance.
just when riya was about to change the gear, she saw rekha's lunch box still sitting on the passenger seat. her little demon of a sister was so occupied with her life she forgotten her own lunch.
"damn it," she muttered, grabbing the neon pink bento box and heading to her sister's classroom.
riya spotted rekha taking her seat just as her and the other students finished reciting the pledge of allegiance. she knocked, stepping into the classroom only to freeze when she saw the back of a familiar head bent over a stack of papers at the teacher’s desk.
the breath punched out of riya’s lungs when the man at the desk turned. messy blonde hair, blue eyes, glasses slightly crooked.
ryland grace froze mid-sip of his coffee. his lips parted around the rim of the mug, his eyebrows lifting behind his frames in slow, dawning horror. he jerked back when the heat of the coffee almost burned his tongue but riya wasn’t sure if it was the temperature or the sight of her standing there that shocked him more.
the silence stretched, thick and suffocating, before rekha’s voice sliced through it.
"riya? what are you—" her gaze flicked between them, eyes narrowing. "why are you staring at mr. grace like that?"
mr. grace. the guy her best friend set her up on a blind date, who was a former scientist turned middle school teacher, who just so happened to be teaching at the same school her sister went to, also happened to be teaching her. riya’s fingers clenched around the lunchbox.
"i— lunch," she managed, passing the bento box to rekha who took it with a suspicious squint.
"you know my teacher?" rekha asked, her tone dripping with accusation as she stood in the middle of the class.
"no," riya lied too quickly.
ryland adjusted his glasses, a nervous tic riya recognized now and turned to rekha with forced calm. "rekha, take your seat."
rekha hesitated, glancing between them one last time before shuffling to her desk, her expression shifting from suspicion to outright glee. riya could practically see the gears turning in her sister’s head, the same way they had in the car.
"oh my GOD." rekha gasped loudly, her hand shot up like a rocket, her entire body vibrating as she pieced together the last piece of the puzzle. "you're banging my teac—"
"rekha!" riya hissed, lunging forward like she could physically stop the words from leaving her sister's mouth.
the entire class erupted into chaos. gasps, giggles, desks screeching as kids twisted to gawk at them. ryland's face drained of all color, burying it into his palms.
"that’s detention," ryland blurted, pointing at rekha with a trembling finger, his voice an octave higher than usual. "two weeks. no, a month. no— forever."
the class howled louder, and rekha’s grin widened like ryland's words had no effect on her.
riya’s pulse pounded in her ears. she shot ryland a panicked look, mouthing "do something" but he shrugged his shoulders and riya fought the urge to smack her own forehead.
"mr. grace?" a kid in the front row piped up, grinning. "is it true you're—"
"no," ryland interrupted, voice cracking. he cleared his throat, adjusting his tie with jerky movements. "that's—no. rekha, stop laughing, i can see you."
but rekha was already whispering to her desk mate, hands cupped around her mouth like she was sharing state secrets.
riya considered spontaneous combustion. or teleportation. or possibly just walking backward out of the room and pretending none of this ever happened. instead, she forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. "i should—go."
ryland nodded so fast his glasses slid down his nose. "yes— no, wait—"
ryland grabbed her arm and led her outside, shutting the classroom door firmly behind them, muffling the chaos inside before letting her go.
"that's your sister?!" ryland's voice cracked, half whisper half scream. "rekha patel is your sister?! why didn't you just say so?!"
"i didn't know you were teaching here! how was i supposed to—" riya's protest died as ryland dragged a hand through his already-disheveled hair, sending strands sticking straight up.
riya opened her mouth to argue, to apologize, maybe to scream but the sound of muffled laughter from inside the classroom cut her off. ryland’s shoulders slumped, his fingers twitching toward his tie before aborting the movement.
"this is a nightmare," he muttered, more to himself than to her.
a loud thump against the classroom door made them both jump. rekha's muffled voice taunted, "i can HEAR you whispering!" followed by a chorus of giggles.
ryland groaned, tilting his head back like he was praying for patience. "i have to go back in there." he sounded genuinely mournful.
"good luck," riya muttered, already backing away. "also, just ignore my sister. she's annoying but she doesn't actually care. she won't make a big deal out of it with you. but me, she's definitely telling our parents when she gets home and my mom will call me to come home for dinner and lecture."
ryland paused. "is that why you didn't come home after graduating? is it because of your parents?"
riya was stunned by his question. she was expecting ryland to remember that bit from yesterday. "y-yeah. but don't worry about it. i'll be fine."
ryland stared at her for a beat too long, his fingers twitching like he wanted to reach out but didn’t know how. the morning bell rang overhead, startling them both.
"i should—" he gestured weakly toward the classroom door.
"go." riya urged, waving him off with a weak smile. "your students are already feral."
ryland hesitated before he finally moved. he walked three, four steps before suddenly turning again to kiss riya, hard and fast. a desperate, impulsive press of lips that tasted like coffee and panic.
"text me," he muttered against her mouth before pulling away, adjusting his glasses with trembling fingers. "please."
riya blinked, still caught off guard by the kiss before her mouth curled into a smile. "okay. yeah."
ryland smiled quick, nervous before disappearing back into the classroom, the door clicking shut behind him.
—
a/n btw!!!! rekha is definitely 100% based in the student in the movie. she's not in the book as far as i remember so i just assigned a surname for her. again, this is my first time writing an oc fic let alone one with a south asian oc so lmk (nicely) if there is anything that i can improve :) thanks for reading!!
summary when riya randhawa's best friend shoves her phone across the table with a photo of some science teacher named ryland grace with hair sticking up like he'd either just been electrocuted or was cosplaying dr. doofenshmirtz from phineas and ferb and begs her to go on a blind date with the guy, riya was skeptical. but she decides to go anyway. after all, she has had worse blind dates. what could go wrong?
content 18+. smut. vaginal sex. oral sex. protected sex. no astrophage/rocky/hail mary au (can also be read as pre-canon). blind date. teacher!ryland. 3rd pov.
a/n wrote this for my fellow brown baddies :) my first time writing an oc + 3rd pov fic so be nice. i hope u guys can still enjoy it even if you're not the target audience :) english is not my first language
masterlist | read on ao3
here are three reasons why riya randhawa hated blind dates:
1) the last one had spent twenty minutes explaining why he preferred "traditional" women (meaning: obedient, quiet, and willing to iron his shirts).
2) the one before that had shown up drunk, spilled red wine on her favorite dress, and cried about his ex.
3) but the worst? there was a guy who'd spent the entire dinner mansplaining her own job to her despite the fact she'd been in her position for almost six years already and he makes less than her in a year.
honorary mention: alice, her best friend since highschool, thinks that just because they both had their first sexual awakenings while watching robert redford in 'all the president's men' in the 11th grade, it means that they also shared the same taste in men, in which alice thought riya would also be into the kind of guys who unironically used the phrase "nice guys finish last." riya didn't. in fact, she cringed when it happened.
but when alice shoved her phone across the table with a photo of some science teacher named ryland grace with hair sticking up like he'd either just been electrocuted or was cosplaying dr. doofenshmirtz from phineas and ferb, riya raised an eyebrow.
"seriously?"
"trust me," alice insisted. "he's not like the others."
"that's what you said with the last guy." riya paused for a dramatic effect. "he was a flat earther."
"how was i supposed to know? that guy was a geologist!" alice groaned, shoving another bite of pad thai into her mouth. "but ryland's different. i swear. he's a middle school science teacher, he's the type of guy who literally only has one fork and one spoon in his drawer because he lives alone, his favourite movie is notting hill, he has a cat named albert after albert einstein—"
"you're describing a serial killer," riya deadpanned. when she took another glance at his photo, she added: "in fact, look at how much this guy looks like jeffrey dahmer. with the glasses and all. not to mention dahmer's favourite movie was return of the jedi."
alice's forehead creased as she snatched her phone back. "why would i set you up with him if he was a serial killer? look at him. he's literally the least threatening person alive. he's the type of guy who would sing telephone by lady gaga when he's walking behind you in a dark alley so you wouldn't think he's a threat."
a beat. riya blinked. "that's oddly specific."
"a man is ten times hotter when he listens to gaga." alice nodded to herself like she just delivered a ted talk. "swear on my entire collection of dusty robert redford dvds."
that made riya go still. "do not use that card right now."
"oh, i'm doing it." alice smirked like a villain who knew she'd already won. "robert redford in indecent proposal."
riya groaned, biting her lip. "fine. but if this guy turns out to be another disaster, i'm burning your dvds."
alice grinned, already typing out a text. "deal. but you're gonna thank me when you see him in person."
"yeah, yeah, whatever." riya muttered, but she didn’t argue further. mostly because she was already mentally preparing her escape routes if this went south. again.
"okay so thursday, seven pm. it's an italian place. i'll send you the location. not too fancy, not too casual. you need to wear that black dress that made your ass look—"
***
the night of the date, riya arrived ten minutes late on purpose. just enough to make it clear she wasn’t desperate, not enough to be rude.
she wore something that she promised alice she would wear, only because alice wouldn't stop harassing her with video calls from her night shift, demanding to see what she was putting on. it was a simple black dress that hugged her curves nicely. the straps go around the back of her neck, leaving the shoulders and upper back bare. the neckline is cut straight across and hemline fells just in the middle of her calves.
but ryland grace didn’t wait at the table. he was pacing back and forth in front of the restaurant like a nervous penguin, hands shoved deep into his coat, shoulders hunched against the evening chill. he was wearing a white dress shirt with black stripes under a brown coat that looked one size too big for him.
when ryland spotted riya, he took a double take—like he wasn’t expecting her to actually show up. then he tripped over his own feet when he processed what she was wearing.
"oh god," ryland muttered under his breath as he scrambled to catch himself before face-planting onto the sidewalk. then he straightened up, adjusting his glasses. "sorry. hi. hello. you’re riya? i mean, obviously you’re riya. i have your picture— i mean, i didn't stalk you! alice sent it to me so i'd know what you look like— not that i needed it because you’re— this is going poorly."
riya blinked. then, against her better judgment, she laughed. "yeah, no kidding."
she tilted her head, studying him. up close, he looked less like a serial killer and more like someone who regularly forgot to eat lunch. his hair was even more chaotic in person, sticking up in three different directions. "you’re ryland, right? the guy who owns one fork and worships notting hill?"
"oh god, she told you about that." ryland groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "look, i swear i’m not as pathetic as alice makes me sound."
"i don't think you're pathetic. you're kind of cute." riya chuckled, eyeing him up and down boldly. why should she be shy when he was the one tripping over himself?
ryland blinked, clearly unprepared for her frankness. "uh. thanks? i mean— yeah. you're—wow. like, really wow. i— sorry. i'm terrible at this."
riya smirked. she noticed the way his fingers twitched at his sides, the way his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. when he nervously smile at her, it wasn't in a performative, overconfident way of a guy who thought they'd ace the date before it even started but in a crooked, boyish way of a man who looked like he had practiced how to move his mouth in front of the mirror for 20 minutes before coming here.
he felt her eyes on him but did not return her gaze. he was trying to hard to be respectful, to not let his eyes wander longer and lower than necessary. but deep down ryland thought about how stunning she was under the dim glow of the streetlights, how the dress clung to her in ways that made his mouth dry.
"you're taller than i expected." riya hadn't meant to say it out loud. the words slipped out before she could stop them. she pressed her lips together, mentally cursing herself.
ryland laughed. it was like a startled, genuine sound that made the corners of his eyes crinkled.
"i get that a lot. i swear i'm not compensating for anything." he held up his hands in mock surrender, then hesitated, as if realizing how that sounded. "uhh, not that— that's not what i was—"
riya snorted, the tension in her shoulders unraveling just a fraction. "relax, i wasn’t implying anything."
ryland grinned, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.
"right. yeah. sorry." he fumbled for the door handle before finally pulling it open with an exaggerated flourish. "after you."
riya entered first, and she swore she heard ryland sucking in a sharp breath when she walked past him. her scent hit his nose. something light but enchanting, nothing like the overpowering perfumes he’d encountered on past dates.
the restaurant was dimly lit, the kind of place where the hum of conversation blended with the clinking of silverware. ryland pulled out her chair before she could do it herself, and riya found herself fighting a smirk at how earnest he was, like he'd read a guidebook on first dates and was determined to follow every rule even if his fingers fumbled with the menu.
the other thing riya noticed was how ryland ordered for both of them. it was not in a controlling way, but with the confidence of someone who’d memorized the menu beforehand.
"the gnocchi’s good here," he murmured, leaning slightly across the table, "but if you’d rather have something else—"
"no, that’s fine." she surprised herself by meaning it. usually, she’d bristle at a man assuming her order, but ryland had said it like he was sharing a secret, not imposing a choice.
the gnocchi was indeed good. soft pillows of dough that melted against her tongue, drenched in a sage butter sauce that made her hum in approval. ryland watched her take the first bite, his fork hovering mid-air, eyes tracking her reaction like a scientist observing a fascinating experiment.
"good?" he asked, voice low, and when she nodded, his shoulders relaxed as if she’d just given him a passing grade on a test he’d spent weeks studying for.
"so alice mentioned that you were a scientist before teaching?" riya swirled her fork in the gnocchi, watching ryland’s face flicker with something between surprise and resignation.
"ah." he rubbed the back of his neck. "she wasn’t supposed to lead with that."
"why not?"
"because then i have to explain why i left, and that’s…. not a first date material." he gestured vaguely with his wine glass.
riya arched a brow. "now i have to know."
ryland smiled nervously, swirling the wine in his glass before taking a sip. "it's not that interesting, honestly. i just... hit a wall. research wasn’t what i thought it’d be."
then he shrugged, like it didn’t matter, but riya caught the way his fingers tightened around the stem of his glass. "middle schoolers are terrifying, but at least their problems are solvable. even if it's just helping them figure out why their volcano didn't erupt for the science fair."
"you're telling me," riya said, shaking her head as she stabbed another piece of gnocchi, "that you left research…. actual, serious science…. to deal with thirteen-year-olds?"
ryland laughed, and it was such an easy sound that riya found herself leaning forward without meaning to. "oh, absolutely. see, thirteen-year-olds are honest. if they think you're boring, they'll yawn right in your face. if they think you're wrong, they'll tell you. no passive-aggressive emails from the department head, no politics."
the conversation flowed easier than riya expected. ryland didn’t mansplain, didn’t interrupt, didn’t try to steer the topic back to himself. when she mentioned her job, he asked thoughtful questions. not the performative kind, but the ones that made her pause and actually think before answering. halfway through dessert (tiramisu, because ryland had insisted with a bashful, "trust me, it’s worth the calories"), she realized she hadn’t checked her phone once.
when the bill came, riya pretended to not have enough money in her account and wanted to pay in cash, but ryland insisted on covering it. not with the arrogance of a man who thought paying meant ownership, but with a sheepish shrug and a mumbled "next time’s on you?" that made her stomach flip in a way she hadn’t felt in years.
they stepped out into the cool night air, shoulders brushing as they walked toward her apartment. the silence between them wasn’t awkward, just charged. like the moment before a storm breaks. riya could feel the warmth of ryland’s arm against hers, the way his fingers twitched every few steps like he wanted to reach for her hand but wasn’t sure if he should. she didn’t help him. let him sweat a little, she thought, biting back a smirk.
"so," ryland said, clearing his throat. "alice mentioned you live alone?"
"mhm." riya glanced sideways at him. "why? you planning to murder me?"
ryland choked on air.
"no! i was just—" he gestured vaguely, "—making conversation. but now i realize how that sounded."
riya broke into a tiny laugh. "if it helps, i thought you were a serial killer at first."
"you thought—" ryland blinked, then laughed, the sound low and warm against the hum of distant traffic. "alice showed me your photo and my first thought was, 'she’s definitely the type to carry pepper spray and know exactly where to stab someone with a car key.'"
riya snorted, nudging his shoulder with hers. "you’re not wrong."
"yeah, well." he grinned, bumping her shoulder lightly. "you’re still here, so i must be doing something right."
she didn’t reply, but she also didn’t pull away when his fingers brushed against hers, accidentally at first, then deliberately, his pinky hooking around hers like a question. riya answered by threading their fingers together properly, and ryland exhaled sharply, as if he’d been holding his breath.
her apartment building loomed ahead, and riya slowed, suddenly unsure.
"so, uh. you wanna come up?" she cringed internally at how cliché it sounded, but ryland’s eyes lit up like she’d just offered him a nobel prize.
"yes," he blurted, then cleared his throat. "i mean— if that’s okay. yeah."
the elevator ride was quiet, their reflections blurring in the polished metal doors. ryland stood close enough that she could smell the faint citrus of his cologne mixed with the lingering scent of wine. when the doors opened, he hovered awkwardly at her threshold until she rolled her eyes and tugged him inside.
her place was neat. not sterile, but lived-in. ryland’s gaze darted around like he was cataloging details.
"you have plants," he observed, touching a leaf on her monstera. "i kill every plant i touch."
"shocking," she deadpanned, toeing off her heels. "a science teacher who can’t keep a plant alive."
ryland laughed, rubbing his neck. his gaze flicked to her couch, then away.
"so… uhh, how long have you been living alone?" ryland regretted the question as soon as it left his mouth. he's really not helping the serial killer allegation.
riya snorted, tossing her keys into the bowl by the door with a clatter.
"three years," she said, kicking off her heels with more force than necessary. "after i finished college i told my parents i'd rather eat ramen for the rest of my life than move back home."
ryland went silent. he wanted to ask further but decided against it. instead, he settled on something closer. "how many siblings do you have?"
"just one. she's thirteen but i'm starting to suspect that she might be the second coming of satan."
she then glanced over her shoulder at ryland, who was hovering by the bookshelf like a lost puppy. "you gonna stand there all night or what?"
he blinked, then stepped forward, hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.
“right. yeah. sorry.” his voice was a little rough around the edges, like he’d been holding his breath too long.
riya watched him, amused, as he took another hesitant step into her apartment, his eyes darting from the bookshelf to the kitchen island like he was trying to memorize the layout.
“you can sit, you know,” she said, nodding toward the couch.
ryland laughed, but it came out shaky, like his nerves were vibrating just beneath his skin.
"noted," he murmured, sinking onto the couch with all the grace of a man who'd just been told his shoelaces were untied.
riya watched him for a moment. the way his knees kept bouncing, how his gaze kept flicking to her mouth and then away.
she moved toward the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of wine from the fridge. "want a drink?"
"uhh." ryland hovered near the couch, hands shoved in his pockets like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to sit. "yes? i mean— yeah. wine’s good."
riya poured two glasses, handing him one with a smirk before settling down beside him.
"you're nervous," she observed, watching his fingers tighten around the stem. "don't worry. i don't bite. unless you're into that."
ryland choked on his first sip, coughing into his elbow. his ears turned pink, visible even in the dim light of her apartment.
riya's smirk widened, swirling her wine before taking a slow sip, watching him over the rim of her glass. ryland’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his fingers twitching against the stem of his glass like he was mentally reciting the periodic table to calm himself down. the silence stretched. not awkward, but thick with something neither of them wanted to name yet.
"so," riya finally said, tilting her head. "you’re not a serial killer."
"not today," ryland muttered into his wine, then froze, eyes widening. "that was a joke. i swear. i’ve never killed anyone. not even a goldfish— well, okay, maybe a goldfish but that was an accident in fourth grade, and i still feel guilty about it—"
riya snorted, setting her glass down on the coffee table with a deliberate clink.
"relax, grace. if i thought you were dangerous, you wouldn’t be here." she stepped closer, close enough to see the way his pupils dilated when her knee brushed against his. "but you are nervous."
ryland exhaled sharply, his fingers flexing around his glass before he set it aside.
"yeah. a little." his voice was rough, lower than she’d heard it all night.
"you’re… you’re very—" he gestured vaguely at her, then seemed to regret it.
"very what?" she prompted, leaning in just enough to watch his breath hitch.
"intimidating," he admitted, his gaze flicking down to her mouth. "in a good way."
riya hummed, tracing a finger along the rim of her glass. "yeah? what do you do when you’re nervous, mr. science teacher? recite the quadratic formula?"
ryland laughed, the sound dissolving into a groan when her fingers brushed against his wrist.
"usually, yeah. but right now, though?" his hand turned, catching hers, his thumb tracing the delicate bones of her knuckles. "i’m thinking about kissing you."
"thinking," riya echoed, arching a brow. "not doing?"
ryland’s breath stuttered, but he didn’t move. "wasn’t sure if that’d be—"
"you think i invited you up just to talk?" riya murmured, her fingers curling around ryland’s collar before he could answer. his breath hitched, sharp and audible as she tugged him forward, closing the distance between them.
his lips were warm, slightly chapped, and he froze for a heartbeat before melting into her, hands coming up to cradle her face like she was something precious. when she pulled back, his pupils were blown wide.
"you—" he started, then stopped, swallowing hard. "was that—?"
"shut up," she murmured and kissed him again, harder this time. ryland gasped, his hands slid down to her waist, fingers shaking. he held her like he was afraid she would vanish if he pressed too hard. but when she bit his lower lip, the last shred of his hesitation snapped. he crowded her, lying her on the couch, his body fitting perfectly between her legs.
his mouth was hot against hers, hungry in a way that she never expected from him. like he’d been holding back the entire night and only now remembered how to breathe. riya arched into him, fingers tangling in his hair, and he groaned low in his throat when she tugged.
"fuck," he muttered against her lips, voice rough. "you— god, you’re—"
"still talking," she teased, but her breath hitched when his hands slid under her dress, palms skimming up her thighs. hesitant near her ass, like he was afraid of overstepping.
riya rolled her eyes and grabbed his wrist, guiding it firmly where she wanted them. "jeez, grace. you gonna act like a teenager or are you gonna fuck me?"
ryland groaned before crushing his mouth to hers again, hands finally moving with purpose, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass, big hand covering the cheek entirely. she felt his grip tighten, testing, then relax as if worried he’d hurt her until she ground against him, letting out a low noise of approval.
"bedroom," she managed between kisses, sucking his tongue into her mouth just to feel him shudder. "now."
he didn’t need to be told twice. his hands slid down to her thighs, lifting her effortlessly. riya gasped at his strength, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he carried her down the hallway, barely breaking the kiss even as he fumbled with the doorknob. the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed, and ryland followed her down, his weight pressing her into the mattress with a groan.
"are you sure? i mean, we don't have to if—" ryland started, his breath hot against her neck. riya silenced him with a bite to his collarbone, fingers already working at the buttons of his shirt.
"god, shut up," she muttered, shoving the fabric off his shoulders.
pause.
"my god, you're ripped?!"
the words tumbled out before riya could stop them, her fingers pausing mid-unbutton against ryland’s chest. beneath her touch, his muscles tensed. arms and biceps she hadn’t noticed under his stupidly wholesome cardigan now flexing under her palms. chest sculpted like he ran marathons for fun, not like someone who spent weekends grading papers and watching documentaries. abs (actual fucking abs) rippling as he laughed nervously, cheeks flushing.
"uh, yeah." ryland rubbed the back of his neck again, a nervous tic she was starting to find endearing.
"i was bullied in highschool. skinny arms, glasses, the whole cliché. started lifting weights in college and just... never stopped."
his voice dropped, almost embarrassed. "helps with stress. middle schoolers don’t respect you if you look like you’d cry if they threw a paper airplane at you."
riya snorted, dragging her nails lightly down his chest just to watch him shiver. "and here i thought alice undersold you. she called you ‘awkward and nerdy,’ not ‘awkward, nerdy, and built like a movie star."
ryland’s laugh was breathless, his hands skimming up her thighs beneath the black dress.
"movie star’s pushing it," he muttered, but the way his fingers trembled against her skin betrayed him.
"still nervous?" riya whispered against his mouth, her fingers tracing the hard lines of his abdomen. she felt his breath hitch when her nails scraped lower, dipping just beneath the waistband of his pants.
ryland exhaled sharply through his nose, his grip tightening on her hips.
"terrified. but not— not in a bad way. just don’t wanna fuck this up." he admitted, voice rough, his thumb brushed the inside of her thigh, feather-light, testing.
riya grinned, arching into his touch. "you won’t." she hooked a finger into his belt loop, yanking him closer until she could feel the heat of him against her. "unless you keep stalling."
he groaned, dropping his forehead to her shoulder. his teeth grazed her collarbone, sending a shiver down her spine. "bossy."
"you like it," she countered, rolling her hips just to hear him curse under his breath.
he did like it.
"can i...?" his fingers were near her zipper, hesitating like one of his own students who's afraid to raise his hand in class.
riya rolled her eyes and reached back, unzipping the dress herself in one smooth motion. the fabric pooled around her waist, leaving her in nothing but black lace and ryland's stunned expression.
"holy—" he breathed, his gaze flickering from her breasts to her face and back again, like he couldn’t decide where to look first.
she smirked. "you're so cute when you're flustered."
ryland's throat worked as he swallowed hard, his fingers hovering over her ribs, before riya sighed and took his hands to cup his breasts herself. "oh my god, just touch me already."
he did finally, and the second his palms covered her, riya arched off the mattress with a gasp. his thumbs brushed her nipples through the lace, slow and reverent, and she dug her nails into his shoulders just to feel him shudder.
"oh my god," ryland muttered, his voice ragged as he he finally tugged the lace aside to take her properly into his mouth, riya let out a noise she didn’t recognize, high and desperate as his tongue circled her nipple, teeth grazing just enough to make her hips jerk. his hands were everywhere, sliding under her ass to lift her closer, fingers digging into flesh like he was afraid she’d disappear.
she was drowning in him. the heat of his mouth, the scrape of his stubble against her skin, the way his hips rolled against hers with barely restrained urgency. riya tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging just to hear the broken groan vibrate against her breast.
"you're so beautiful." he said as he pulled away, fingers hooking on the waistband of her panties, breath uneven. riya bit her lip, watching his pupils dilate further when she lifted her hips in invitation. black lace slid down her thighs, discarded somewhere near the foot of the bed, and ryland exhaled like he'd been punched. he hesitated again just for a second before dragging his hand up her inner thigh, achingly slow.
"tell me what you like," he murmured against her skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the crease of her hip. his voice was wrecked, rough with want, but the question was so earnest it made her chest ache.
"less talking," riya gasped, spreading her legs wider, her heel digging into the small of his back. "more—"
ryland didn’t need to be told twice. his mouth was on her before she could finish the sentence, hot and wet.
"fuck," riya gasped, fingers twisting in the sheets. the first swipe of his tongue was slow, experimental, mapping her out like a terrain he wanted to memorize. the second was firmer, deliberate, curling just beneath her clit in a way that made her thighs tremble. by the third, riya was panting, her heels digging into his shoulders as he settled between her legs with a devotion that bordered on worship.
"you— holy shit— ryland—" she managed, her voice breaking on the last word as he sucked her clit into his mouth, tongue flicking against it in quick, relentless circles. riya's fingers twisted in his hair, pulling hard enough to hurt, but he only groaned against her, the vibration sending sparks up her spine.
riya had expected awkwardness. hesitant licks, misplaced fingers, the fumbling enthusiasm of a man who’d read too many wikihow articles and not enough actual bodies. what she got was ryland grace eating her out like he’d been training for this his entire life. his tongue moved with precision, alternating between broad, languid strokes and sharp, focused flicks that had her thighs shaking within minutes. when she arched off the bed with a gasp, his palm settled on her lower stomach, holding her down like he knew exactly how badly she wanted to squirm away from the intensity of it all.
"fuck—" riya’s voice cracked as his tongue dipped inside her, curling just enough to make her see stars. she’d been fucked before, but never like this. never with this kind of single-minded focus, like she was the only thing that mattered to him. like he wanted to map every noise and twitch until he had her memorized. when his thumb brushed her clit in tandem with his tongue, she nearly sobbed, her back bowing off the mattress. "oh my god, don’t stop—"
ryland didn’t. if anything, he doubled down, his free hand sliding up to palm her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers in a rhythm that matched the relentless circles of his tongue. riya’s vision blurred at the edges, her fingers scrabbling for purchase in the sheets. she’d never come this fast with anyone, never felt this unraveled. but ryland was everywhere, his scent, his touch, the scrape of his stubble against her inner thighs. when she finally came, it was with a broken cry, her thighs clamping around his head as he rode her through it, his tongue gentling but not stopping until she shoved at his shoulders, oversensitive and trembling.
he pulled back just enough to look up at her, his lips and nose glistening, his cheeks flushed, glasses fogging.
"good?" he asked, voice wrecked, like it was the only word his brain could form. riya let out a breathless laugh, her fingers trailing down to wipe his chin, still damp from her.
"you're asking me?"
ryland grinned, boyish and bright even as he crawled up her body, his weight settling between her thighs. she could feel him, hard and hot against her stomach and the way his breath hitched when she wrapped a hand around him made her pulse kick.
"fuck," he muttered, his forehead dropping to hers. "you're—"
"still talking," she finished for him, squeezing just enough to feel him twitch in her grip. she expected hesitation, but ryland surprised her again, his hand covering hers to guide her strokes with a confidence that made her stomach flip. when he kissed her this time, it was messy, desperate, his tongue sliding against hers with the same rhythm as his hips against her hand. she could taste herself on his lips, and the thought alone made her moan into his mouth.
"condom," she managed between kisses, her free hand fumbling for her nightstand. ryland beat her to it, pulling one from the drawer with a speed that suggested he’d been hoping for this outcome all night. the foil packet crinkled between them, and riya took it from him, tearing it open with her teeth just to watch his pupils blow wider. he groaned as she rolled it onto him, her fingers lingering just a second too long at the base. riya smirked, dragging him closer until the head of him brushed against her, both of them shuddering at the contact.
"still nervous?" she breathed, arching up to nip at his jaw. ryland exhaled sharply, his hands gripping her hips like she might vanish if he blinked.
"y-yeah," he admitted, but the way he pressed into her, slow, gentle, like he was savoring every inch said otherwise. riya’s breath caught as he filled her, her nails digging into his shoulders as he bottomed out with a groan that vibrated through her chest.
for a moment, neither of them moved. just breathing each other in, foreheads pressed together, the only sound the rustle of sheets and their ragged breaths.
"fuck— you're big—" the words slipped out before riya could stop them, her body arching instinctively to accommodate him.
ryland froze, his hips stuttering like he'd been electrocuted.
"oh, god— am i hurting you?" his voice was ragged, his fingers trembling where they gripped her thighs.
"no," she gasped, rolling her hips experimentally just to watch his jaw clench. "just— wasn’t expecting it."
ryland’s laugh was strained, his forehead dropping to hers as he adjusted his angle. "alice really left out all the important details, huh?"
"shut up," riya groaned, hooking her legs around his waist to pull him deeper. the stretch was delicious, just shy of too much, and when ryland finally moved, a slow and torturous drag, her vision blurred at the edges. "oh my god—"
he set a rhythm that was maddening, each thrust deep and measured, like he was afraid of breaking her. riya dug her nails into his shoulders, her heels pressing into the small of his back.
"harder," she demanded, biting his earlobe. "i won’t— fuck— i won't break."
ryland groaned, his control fraying as he obeyed, snapping his hips forward with a force that knocked the breath from her lungs. the headboard slammed against the wall, the sound loud enough to make riya laugh until he hit that spot, and her laughter dissolved into a choked cry.
"there?" ryland panted, his voice rough with satisfaction when she could only nod, her fingers scrambling for purchase against his sweat-slicked skin. he angled himself to hit it again, and again, until riya was gasping, her thighs trembling around him.
"you feel so good— so tight." the words spilled from ryland’s lips like a prayer, ragged and reverent, as he fucked her with a rhythm that was equal parts desperation and precision. riya’s back arched off the mattress, her fingers scrabbling at the sheets as he drove into her again, the angle just right to make her see stars.
she’d had sex before. good sex, even, but this was something else. the way ryland moved, like he was trying to memorize her body with his own, like every gasp and whimper was a note in a song he was composing just for her.
"faster," she demanded more, her voice cracking as she dug her heels into his ass, pulling him deeper. ryland groaned, his hips stuttering for a fraction of a second before he obeyed, his thrusts turning sharp and erratic. his hands slid under her, lifting her hips to meet him with each snap of his pelvis, the new angle sending a shockwave of pleasure up her spine.
"god, you’re perfect," ryland gasped, his forehead pressed to hers, his breath hot against her lips. riya could feel the tremble in his thighs as he held himself back, his control fraying at the edges. she arched into him, her fingers twisting in his hair, pulling just enough to make him groan.
don’t hold back," she whispered, her voice raw. "i want all of you."
the words shattered whatever restraint he had left. ryland’s hips snapped forward, driving into her with a force that sent her sliding up the mattress, the sheets bunching beneath her. riya cried out, her legs locking around him, her nails scoring down his back as pleasure coiled tight in her stomach. ryland’s mouth found her neck, his teeth scraping over her pulse point before soothing the sting with his tongue.
riya could feel it building, that tight, electric coil of pleasure low in her stomach, but ryland seemed determined to drag it out, his thrusts slowing just when she was teetering on the edge.
"close?" ryland's voice was rough, his breath hot against her throat as he slowed his hips, teasing her with shallow thrusts that made her whimper.
riya growled, her nails digging into his biceps. "don't— fucking— stop—"
ryland’s laugh was dark, his breath hot against her throat as he obliged, slamming into her with a force that knocked the headboard against the wall again. his hands sliding under her hips to tilt her just right and then she was coming undone, her back arching off the mattress as pleasure ripped through her like a live wire. her cry was muffled against his shoulder, her teeth sinking into his skin as she trembled through it, ryland’s name a broken gasp against his collarbone.
he didn’t let up, chasing his own release with frantic, uneven thrusts until his rhythm stuttered, his hips jerking as he buried himself deep with a groan that vibrated through her chest.
for a long moment, neither of them moved. ryland’s weight pressed her into the mattress, his breath ragged against her neck as he slowly came back to himself. when he finally pulled out, it was with a wince and a muttered curse, his fingers gentle as they brushed a sweaty strand of hair from her forehead.
"okay?" he asked, voice rough with concern. riya laughed, boneless and sated, her limbs heavy with exhaustion.
"better than okay." she reached up, tracing the line of his jaw with her fingertips, amused by the way he leaned into her touch like a starved man. "alice undersold you. by a lot."
ryland’s grin was boyish and bright, even as he rolled onto his back beside her, one arm slung over his eyes. "glad to exceed expectations."
his fingers found hers in the tangle of sheets, lacing them together with a quiet certainty that made her chest ache. he kissed her then, slow and lazy, his fingers tangling in her hair like he had all the time in the world. riya melted into it, her body humming with satisfaction, until the buzz of ryland’s phone on the nightstand shattered the moment.
he groaned, pulling away just enough to glance at the screen. "shit. it’s my bedtime alarm."
riya blinked. of course ryland was the type to have a bedtime alarm. "you set an alarm?"
"i have first period," he admitted, rubbing a hand over his face. "gotta be at school by seven."
"you’re joking." she stared at him, her nose wrinkling. "who the hell schedules a date on a school night?"
ryland laughed, pressing a kiss to her shoulder as he sat up. "someone who didn’t think he’d get this far."
riya watched him pad across the room, her eyes tracing the lean lines of his back, the way his muscles shifted under his skin. "you’re leaving?"
he paused, half-dressed, his shirt hanging open. "do you want me to stay?"
the question hung between them, heavier than it should’ve been. riya hesitated. she wasn’t the type to ask for more, wasn’t the type to want it. but ryland’s gaze was steady, his fingers lingering on the last button of his shirt like he’d wait all night for her answer.
"yes." the word slipped out before she could stop it, soft and uncharacteristically vulnerable. ryland’s expression softened, his shoulders relaxing as he let the shirt slide back off his arms.
"okay," he murmured, like it was that simple. maybe it was. he climbed back into bed, his body warm against hers as he pulled her close. riya tucked her head under his chin, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips was oddly comforting, a stark contrast to the frenetic energy of the night before.
she hadn’t expected this. the quiet, the ease of it. she’d expected awkwardness, maybe regret. not this. only this time, only with ryland, the contrast felt welcome.
the morning light filtered through riya’s blinds in thin, golden stripes, painting ryland’s bare shoulder in alternating bands of light and shadow. she blinked awake slowly, the events of last night settling into her memory with a warmth that curled low in her stomach. ryland was already stirring beside her, his limbs tangled in her sheets, glasses askew on the nightstand where they’d been discarded in haste. his hair was even more of a disaster now, sticking up in every direction like he’d been caught in a wind tunnel.
"what time’s it?" he mumbled, voice thick with sleep, his fingers brushing her waist absently as he turned his head to squint at her alarm clock. the movement made the sheets shift, revealing the sharp line of his hipbone, and riya resisted the urge to trace it with her fingertips.
"quarter past six." riya murmured, watching as ryland’s eyes widened with a sudden panic. he bolted upright, sheets pooling around his waist, and the sight of him bare and utterly disheveled sent a stupid little thrill through her chest.
"shoot— i have first period at eight." he scrambled off the bed, nearly tripping on his own clothes in his haste.
riya couldn’t help but laugh. "you’re a mess."
"and you’re distracting," he shot back, but the way his ears pinked betrayed him. he rifled through the pile of discarded clothes on her floor, shoving his arms through his wrinkled shirt sleeves with a haste that made the fabric twist awkwardly. riya stood too, grabbing her own clothes and dressing back as she watched him struggle. "need help?"
ryland paused, his fingers fumbling with a button, before sighing in defeat. "...yes."
she grinned, padding over to him. his breath hitched when her fingers brushed his chest, deftly fixing the misaligned buttons.
"you’re really bad at mornings," she teased, smoothing the collar of his shirt with exaggerated care.
"i'm not a morning person," he admitted sheepishly, his hands hovering at her waist like he wasn’t sure where to put them, as if he didn't just put her through the mattress hours ago. riya had to resist the urge to kiss him stupid all over again.
a sharp ringtone shattered the moment. riya groaned, grabbing her phone off the nightstand. "amma" flashed on the screen, and she swiped to answer with a sigh. "hey—"
"rekha missed the bus," her mother said without preamble. "you’re close. can you drop her off?"
riya pinched the bridge of her nose. "where is baba? he’s supposed to—"
"he has an early meeting," her mother cut in, already distracted by something in the background. "just take her. she’ll be late."
the line went dead before riya could argue. ryland raised an eyebrow from where he was wrestling with his shoelaces. "trouble?"
"my demonic sister missed her bus," riya muttered, tossing the phone onto the bed and reaching for her discarded underwear. "i have to drive her to school."
ryland nodded, because he didn't know how else to react to that. "so uh, last night was—"
"great." riya finished for him, tugging on a pair of leggings and a loose t-shirt from the floor. she caught ryland's hesitant expression in the mirror as she finger-combed her tangled hair. she smiled, softer than she'd intended. "it was really great, ryland. i mean it."
ryland exhaled, shoulders relaxing as he straightened his tie, a nervous habit riya was already cataloguing.
"okay. good. great." he cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. "i should— my class has an exam today."
riya smirked, stepping into his space to straighten his crooked tie. "bet you’re terrifying during exams."
"not really, no." ryland laughed nervously, his fingers brushing hers as he took over the task. he hesitated, then leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, so unexpectedly sweet it made her chest tighten. "text me?"
riya's smile widened before she nodded, tucking her phone into her pocket. "yeah, i'll text you."
she watched ryland hesitate at her door, his fingers tapping against the frame like he was debating something, before he finally stepped out with a muttered "see you"—awkward to the last.
the door clicked shut behind him, leaving riya alone in the sudden quiet of her apartment. she exhaled, rubbing her temples. rekha. school. right.
riya grabbed her keys and jogged downstairs. she got into her car and drove to her parents' house, trying not to think about ryland's hands on her hips, his breath hot against her neck, the way he'd looked at her like she was the only thing mattered in this world.
rekha was already waiting outside when she pulled up, arms crossed, scowling.
"you took forever," the younger sister muttered, slamming the car door harder than necessary.
"missed the bus again?" riya asked, flicking her a glance in the rearview mirror as she pulled back onto the road.
rekha shrugged, staring out the window. "amma forgot to wake me up."
"oh my god, grow up. you're thirteen. set an alarm or something," riya said, turning onto the main road.
rekha rolled her eyes, slouching lower in the seat. "whatever. just drive."
the silence stretched for two blocks before rekha piped up again, nose wrinkling. her nostrils flared before she paused and riya could feel her little sister's eyes on her.
"what?" riya snapped, flicking rekha a glance as the car stopped at the red light.
rekha’s nose wrinkled further. "you smell weird."
riya’s fingers tightened on the wheel, avoiding her sister's terrifying gaze. "no, i do not."
"you do." rekha leaned into her, sniffing dramatically, her nose scrunched in disgust. "why do you smell like a man?"
riya's cheeks burned as she flicked the turn signal too hard. "no, i don't."
rekha made a gagging noise, flopping back against the seat. "ew. you totally do. it’s like—" she sniffed again, theatrical. "aftershave and sweat and—oh my god, did you have sex? wait, is that a hickey?!"
"what?!" riya flipped the mirror above the steering wheel toward her face, panic flaring, only to see nothing. she snapped it back with a glare and pinched rekha's arm. "you little shit."
rekha smirked, clearly enjoying herself. "but you did have sex."
"you're a child. that's none of your business," riya muttered, turning into the school parking lot with unnecessary force. the tires squeaked against the pavement, earning a delighted cackle from rekha.
"oh my god, you did!" rekha crowed, kicking her feet against the dashboard. "was it mr. thomas, your neighbour? he's always staring at your—"
"shut up," riya hissed, jerking the car to a stop near the entrance. she pointed at the clock on the dashboard. "you're late."
rekha stuck her tongue out but grabbed her backpack, scrambling out of the car.
"i'm telling mom!" she sing-songed before slamming the door. riya rolled her eyes, watching her sister jog toward the school entrance.
just when riya was about to change the gear, she saw rekha's lunch box still sitting on the passenger seat. her little demon of a sister was so occupied with her life she forgotten her own lunch.
"damn it," she muttered, grabbing the neon pink bento box and heading to her sister's classroom.
riya spotted rekha taking her seat just as her and the other students finished reciting the pledge of allegiance. she knocked, stepping into the classroom only to freeze when she saw the back of a familiar head bent over a stack of papers at the teacher’s desk.
the breath punched out of riya’s lungs when the man at the desk turned. messy blonde hair, blue eyes, glasses slightly crooked.
ryland grace froze mid-sip of his coffee. his lips parted around the rim of the mug, his eyebrows lifting behind his frames in slow, dawning horror. he jerked back when the heat of the coffee almost burned his tongue but riya wasn’t sure if it was the temperature or the sight of her standing there that shocked him more.
the silence stretched, thick and suffocating, before rekha’s voice sliced through it.
"riya? what are you—" her gaze flicked between them, eyes narrowing. "why are you staring at mr. grace like that?"
mr. grace. the guy her best friend set her up on a blind date, who was a former scientist turned middle school teacher, who just so happened to be teaching at the same school her sister went to, also happened to be teaching her. riya’s fingers clenched around the lunchbox.
"i— lunch," she managed, passing the bento box to rekha who took it with a suspicious squint.
"you know my teacher?" rekha asked, her tone dripping with accusation as she stood in the middle of the class.
"no," riya lied too quickly.
ryland adjusted his glasses, a nervous tic riya recognized now and turned to rekha with forced calm. "rekha, take your seat."
rekha hesitated, glancing between them one last time before shuffling to her desk, her expression shifting from suspicion to outright glee. riya could practically see the gears turning in her sister’s head, the same way they had in the car.
"oh my GOD." rekha gasped loudly, her hand shot up like a rocket, her entire body vibrating as she pieced together the last piece of the puzzle. "you're banging my teac—"
"rekha!" riya hissed, lunging forward like she could physically stop the words from leaving her sister's mouth.
the entire class erupted into chaos. gasps, giggles, desks screeching as kids twisted to gawk at them. ryland's face drained of all color, burying it into his palms.
"that’s detention," ryland blurted, pointing at rekha with a trembling finger, his voice an octave higher than usual. "two weeks. no, a month. no— forever."
the class howled louder, and rekha’s grin widened like ryland's words had no effect on her.
riya’s pulse pounded in her ears. she shot ryland a panicked look, mouthing "do something" but he shrugged his shoulders and riya fought the urge to smack her own forehead.
"mr. grace?" a kid in the front row piped up, grinning. "is it true you're—"
"no," ryland interrupted, voice cracking. he cleared his throat, adjusting his tie with jerky movements. "that's—no. rekha, stop laughing, i can see you."
but rekha was already whispering to her desk mate, hands cupped around her mouth like she was sharing state secrets.
riya considered spontaneous combustion. or teleportation. or possibly just walking backward out of the room and pretending none of this ever happened. instead, she forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. "i should—go."
ryland nodded so fast his glasses slid down his nose. "yes— no, wait—"
ryland grabbed her arm and led her outside, shutting the classroom door firmly behind them, muffling the chaos inside before letting her go.
"that's your sister?!" ryland's voice cracked, half whisper half scream. "rekha patel is your sister?! why didn't you just say so?!"
"i didn't know you were teaching here! how was i supposed to—" riya's protest died as ryland dragged a hand through his already-disheveled hair, sending strands sticking straight up.
riya opened her mouth to argue, to apologize, maybe to scream but the sound of muffled laughter from inside the classroom cut her off. ryland’s shoulders slumped, his fingers twitching toward his tie before aborting the movement.
"this is a nightmare," he muttered, more to himself than to her.
a loud thump against the classroom door made them both jump. rekha's muffled voice taunted, "i can HEAR you whispering!" followed by a chorus of giggles.
ryland groaned, tilting his head back like he was praying for patience. "i have to go back in there." he sounded genuinely mournful.
"good luck," riya muttered, already backing away. "also, just ignore my sister. she's annoying but she doesn't actually care. she won't make a big deal out of it with you. but me, she's definitely telling our parents when she gets home and my mom will call me to come home for dinner and lecture."
ryland paused. "is that why you didn't come home after graduating? is it because of your parents?"
riya was stunned by his question. she was expecting ryland to remember that bit from yesterday. "y-yeah. but don't worry about it. i'll be fine."
ryland stared at her for a beat too long, his fingers twitching like he wanted to reach out but didn’t know how. the morning bell rang overhead, startling them both.
"i should—" he gestured weakly toward the classroom door.
"go." riya urged, waving him off with a weak smile. "your students are already feral."
ryland hesitated before he finally moved. he walked three, four steps before suddenly turning again to kiss riya, hard and fast. a desperate, impulsive press of lips that tasted like coffee and panic.
"text me," he muttered against her mouth before pulling away, adjusting his glasses with trembling fingers. "please."
riya blinked, still caught off guard by the kiss before her mouth curled into a smile. "okay. yeah."
ryland smiled quick, nervous before disappearing back into the classroom, the door clicking shut behind him.
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a/n btw!!!! rekha is definitely 100% based in the student in the movie. she's not in the book as far as i remember so i just assigned a surname for her. again, this is my first time writing an oc fic let alone one with a south asian oc so lmk (nicely) if there is anything that i can improve :) thanks for reading!!
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Hey 😇, I’ve only got one shot with this so Let skip the small talk, if you ever consider having a sugar daddy and enjoying the finer side of life. I’d love to hear from you!
Sent as a distraction by Pippa to distract Max Hastings, it being set towards the start of the show so nothing about his true nature is really known, reader being quick to find out as her and Max get a bit…frisky during what was meant to just be a distraction as Pippa searches his room. Maybe Max even knows, doesn’t care that much having no physical proof he needs to hide.
okay so i'm gonna say this as nice as possible: don't send vague stuff like this in my asks pls. i can't tell if this was a thought or concept that that u wanted to share or a request for me to write. if the later then no, i don't take requests, as i have stated on my pinned post. if a thought, pls make it known firsthand.
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