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When he checks the crew pods, his stomach drops. The pilot, Commander Yao, has turned a deep shade of purple, he did not survive the coma. However, the engineer - your unconscious form - looks alive. Still under a coma, but definitely breathing. Mary confirms the grim reality, stating that Yao is deceased while you remain stable. A sudden wave of relief washes over Ryland. Knowing another living human is on this spaceship makes the terrifying unknown a little easier to swallow. He takes one last look at your sleeping face, his eyes tracing the healthy color of your skin to overwrite the pang of dread he felt looking at Yao’s features.

Moving away from your pod and the one holding Yao, he heads to the terminal to calculate the remaining fuel and distance from home. The math is brutal, there is absolutely no going back.

He finds pouches of vodka. He needs a drink, badly. He spends hours drinking in the ship, trying to piece together his life on Earth. Slowly, fragments surface. He remembers he is a middle school science teacher. He can see the faces of his students. He remembers Eva Stratt approaching him from the Petrova Line Taskforce, and he remembers studying astrophage. Another face, a bodyguard named Carl, flashes briefly but remains hazy.

Oddly, the most vivid memories are of you. He sees flashes of you smiling at him, your side profile as you peer at an astrophage sample through a microscope, the ocean breeze messing up your hair, and the way your gaze darted down to his lips right before the distance between you vanished. He isn’t sure what you were to each other before the coma, but he feels certain it was something precious. At least, he desperately hopes it was, and not just an alcohol-fueled hallucination. Stumbling over to a whiteboard, he writes down everything he can recall. He writes the word “Single?” then hesitates. His heart skips a heavy beat at the thought of you, prompting him to scribble “In love with the engineer?” in tiny letters right next to it. Thumping his forehead against the board, he lets out a deep breath and decides to let the alcohol drown out the rest of the day. Or night. In the endless darkness outside, he doesn't know or care which it is.

“Good morning, Dr Grace” Mary’s voice echoes through the cabin the next day.

“I’m up” Ryland mutters, raising a pouch of vodka.

He decides to sort through the crew’s personal belongings to trigger more memories. He starts with Yao’s bag, finding clothes and a collection of photos showing a man who seemed genuinely fun and warm. Next is your bag. His fingers trace your stitched name on the fabric, but he hesitates. Going through the personal things of someone who is still alive feels wrong, like an invasion of privacy. He puts it back, assuring himself that you can access your own things when you wake up.

Finally, he opens his own bag. Inside are various clothes, including a red T-shirt that reads, “Ah, the element of surprise” He clearly had a peculiar taste in style. Searching deeper for photos like Yao’s, he finds two. The first is a solo shot of him on Stratt’s ship. The second, however, makes his breath hitch. It’s a picture of the two of you sitting at a bar counter. He is looking at you with a crinkled, adoring smile instead of facing the camera, and his hand is tightly intertwined with yours. Two beers sit untouched on the bar counter. A wave of realisation hits his stomach, not the nauseating kind he felt on the jet to Stratt’s ship, but an overwhelming certainty of just how much he adored you. The grip on your hand in the photo looks far too tight to be considered casual. He carefully places the photos back, ensuring the one with you is perfectly protected.

Ryland walks back to the medical bay and pulls down the zipper of your pod to reveal your face. Immediately, another memory floods his mind.

“Interesting way to speak in front of the Russian authorities, Dr Grace” your voice echoes, lips curling into a crooked smile. In the memory, he crosses the empty conference room toward you. “Please don’t remind me” he exhales, “I’m pretty sure Stratt is calling a jet to send me straight back to my classroom” You laugh, your fingers gently catching the sleeve of his sweatshirt, “Stratt needs your brain too much to get rid of you just yet. Besides, you make these agonizing meetings bearable” “Oh yeah?” he breathes, closing the distance. His hands reach up, fingers framing your face. “Yeah” you whisper, leaning into the warmth of his palm, “even if you address a room of global leaders like they’re middle schoolers” His nose bumps against yours with a playful, “Hey!” His breath smells faintly of the coffee he drank during the meeting, “you see, when I get into explaini-” before he can continue, you cut him off, sealing your lips against his. His words dissolve into the kiss, his thumb softly caressing your cheek.

A sudden warmth pulls him back to reality. Ryland blinks, realising his hand has unconsciously reached out and is resting on your face in the exact same way. A single tear slips down from the corner of his eye.

“Please wake up” he whispers, his thumb tracing your skin. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t remember how I ended up here. I know I worked on the astrophage, but everything else is a blank. It’s terrifying being alone. I don’t even fully remember who I am yet, let alone who we were” He sniffles, trying to steady his voice. “But I know you’re important. Not just to this mission, but to me” He sighs, his fingers lingering for a fraction of a second before he pulls his hand away, “Gosh, I’m a mess. I’ll try to get it together”

The following day, Ryland finally allows the automated mechanical arms, Armando, to groom him. He pulls on a yellow jumpsuit with his name stitched across the chest. His eyes fall on Yao, and a heavy lump forms in his throat. Casting a brief glance toward your pod, he approaches the pilot’s body. He lifts Yao with ease, carrying him toward the ship’s airlock. Holding Yao’sa photos and a bucket hat, Ryland stands before the deceased commander.

“Commander Yao, I must have known you, but I just don’t remember” he says softly. He shuffles through the photos, turning them toward Yao’s still face, “You make a funny face in literally every single picture” Taking a deep breath, he swallows past the tightness in his throat, “You must have been incredibly smart, strong, and brave. I wish you were still here. I wish I didn’t have to do this. You were loved, and you deserved so much more than this” His voice breaks, tears blurring his vision, “I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t, you know, that you didn’t…I'll do my best”

With a heavy heart, he opens the airlock and releases Yao into the dark, silent void of space. After sealing the hatch, he walks quietly back to your pod and unzips the cover.

“I, uh...I attempted a funeral for Yao” he whispers to your unconscious form, his hands fisting tightly in his lap, “I gave a eulogy. Well, a poor attempt for one, since I don’t remember him. I promised him I’d try my best” Fresh tears stream down his face, and his throat tightens until his voice is strained. “I don’t know how to do this alone. I need you to wake up. Saying goodbye to a crewmate is too hard...I can’t do it again. Especially not with you” He sniffles, letting his tears flow without restraint. “When you wake up” he says, placing a heavy emphasis on when, refusing to even entertain the word if. He continues, his voice thick with emotion, “you won’t remember anything. You’ll be incredibly confused about every single thing around you. But I’ll be here”

His breathing shudders, an exhale cutting through the quiet lab. “I’ll help you figure everything out. We’ll figure it out together. Just…” He reaches out, his hand trembling slightly as his fingers gently brush a stray strand of hair away from the side of your face, “Just please don’t leave me alone”

A tear slips from his eye and lands softly on your cheek. He brushes it away with the pad of his thumb, his touch light and shaking. “I haven’t touched your things. Uh, I figured you’d appreciate having your privacy respected. I didn’t snoop around, but...I’m sure there is a picture of you in there that matches mine. I have one with you, you know. The only photo I have with another person is with you. That has to mean something. If I kept that photo close, it means you meant a lot to me. We meant a lot to each other. So, uh...I guess it’ll be pretty cool to get to know you all over again” He lets out a low, broken chuckle that quickly fades.

Huffing a deep breath, he tries to steady himself. “I’ll get to work on the mission. You rest, but not for too long, alright? I’ll talk to you later” he whispers. With a soft click, he zips the pod cover back up.

Two days pass in a blur of isolation. Ryland spends hours trying to decipher the complex controls scattered across the ship, focusing on the pilot consoles. He doesn’t understand a single layout or protocol. Progress on uncovering his own past is just as stagnant, he still can’t piece together the sequence of events that landed him on this ship. Yet, he constantly remembers the exact feeling of your hand in his, and the way he felt when he used to make you laugh.

He is in the middle of setting a whiteboard aside when Mary’s synthetic voice echoes through the cabin: “Eye movement detected”

Everything in Ryland’s world comes to a sudden halt. You’re up.

A surge of happiness and relief floods his chest all at once. He doesn’t even have time to process the emotion before Mary’s automated system begins its standard assessment, her voice blaring: “What is two plus two?” It is the exact same clinical protocol he endured upon his own awakening. Remembering his promise to be there the second you opened your eyes, his feet are already moving. He sprints across the deck so frantically that his shoes catches on the stray dry-erase marker he had just been using, causing him to stumble forward.

Recovering his footing, he lunges toward your pod. You are already struggling to pull yourself upward, your limbs flailing blindly. “Muscle function has not yet been restored” Mary states.

Ryland darts across the tight space, throwing his arms out to catch you the exact second you lose your balance and begin falling toward the floor. “Woah, hey!” he gasps, bracing your weight between his arms.

Armando’s mechanical arms begin clicking and whirring, dropping down to clamp onto you, while Mary relentlessly repeats her basic math queries. “Mary, please stop! I’ve got it!” Ryland commands, his voice sharp but soft. His eyes remain locked on yours.

Your eyes widen, filled with terror. “Wh-who?” you manage to stammer. Your tongue feels heavy and uncooperative, utterly useless after more than a decade of chemically induced paralysis.

Recognising the panic from you, Ryland acts quickly. He carefully eases your weak frame back against the safety of the nearby counter, ensuring you are stable, and immediately takes a step backward to give you space.

“Hey, hey...uh, please don’t panic” he says, his words rushing out in a breathless tumble, “I’m Ryland Grace. I’m...uh, I’m a middle school science teacher. And we’re, um...we’re in space”

You stare at him, paralysed by sensory overload. Your brain and muscles feel like mush. Your mind tries to latch onto the most absurd word in his sentence. You attempt to mirror his statement, trying to form the word space, but your uncooperative vocal cords betray you. What actually leaves your lips is a slurred, confused question: “Swace?”

Instantly, the rigid tension drains straight out of Ryland’s shoulders. The panic vanishes from his posture, and his eyes soften into a look of gentle reassurance. “Yeah” he whispers, a comforting warmth returning to his voice, “we’re in space. For a mission. Everything is going to feel incredibly confusing right now, and you won’t be able to remember anything for a while. So just take it easy” You try to nod, but even that small movement makes the room spin. Your legs feel like jello, threatening to give out the moment you shifted your weight. Sensing your struggle, Ryland doesn’t hesitate. He steps forward again, moving with slowness so he won’t startle you, and slid an arm around your waist to keep you steady.

“I’ve got you” he murmurs, “let’s get you somewhere more comfortable than a metal counter, okay?”

He guides you over to a nearby bench, practically carrying most of your weight. As you sink into the seat, you look down at your hands. They are trembling, and feel weird. You flex your fingers, watching them move with a delayed response.

“N-name…” you croaked out, your throat feeling like it was lined with sandpaper. You looked up at him, your eyes pleading for confirmation as a word finally sparked in your hazy mind, and mutter your name.

A soft warm expression breaks across Ryland’s face, his eyes lighting up with relief. He knees in front of you so he was at eye level, intentionally keeping a respectful distance but remaining close enough that you could reach out if you panicked.

“Yes” he says softly, a genuine smile finally breaking through his exhausted features. “Yes, it is. I’m so glad to hear you say it yourself. I’m Ryland. Ryland Grace”

You repeat his name silently in your head, the syllables tasting familiar on your tongue. The fog in your brain is starting to thin just a fraction. “Ryland” you whisper, leaning your head back against the wall, exhausting what little energy you had left, “you were there”

Ryland’s shoulders go rigid, “What do you mean? Do you remember something?”

“Don’t know” you breathe, “Your voice. I don’t know what you said, but I heard you talking to me while I was asleep”

Ryland stares at you, his eyes wide and bright with a sudden wave of emotion. He doesn’t tell you about the whiteboard, or the photo tucked in his bag, or how he had wept over your unconscious body just hours before. He just lets out a long exhale, a tear finally escaping and running down his cheek.

“Yeah” Ryland whispers, his voice thick with a mixture of relief and heartache, “Yeah, I was here. I told you I won’t leave you”

He reaches around you and pulls out a small, sealed pouch of water with a straw attached, “Here. Drink this. Slowly. Your throat is going to feel like a desert for a bit”

You take the pouch, your clumsy fingers barely able to hold it. Ryland reaches out, placing his hands over yours to steady the pouch and guide the straw to your lips. The moment his skin touches yours, a sudden, wave shoots straight through your haze. A wave of familiarity, love and safety. Your eyes lock onto his, and for a split second, the terrifying emptiness of the universe doesn’t matter.

Ryland seems to feel it too. His breath hitches, his thumb subtly brushing against the back of your hand before he pulls back, clearing his throat.

“Better?” he asks as you swallow the water.

You nod, the liquid soothing the burn in your throat. You look around the small room, taking in the blinking lights, the strange monitors, and the two empty pods behind him. “Who…else?”

The lightheartedness in Ryland’s eyes disappears. He looks back at the pods, then down at his lap, “One is mine and…there was a third crewmate. Commander Yao. He was the pilot. He…he didn’t make it through the coma. I had to let him go into space” He looks back up at you, his eyes sincere, “But you made it. You’re alive. You’re here”

You let out a shaky breath, processing the gravity of being trapped in a ship in the middle of nowhere with a science teacher. And yet, looking at the worry etched into his features, you knew he wasn’t a stranger. Not really.

The days that follow pass in exhausting teamwork. As your physical strength slowly returns under Ryland’s care, the two of you throw yourselves into understanding the ship’s complex systems, it’s easier for you because you helped design it, but you have to guide Ryland in understanding. Together, you manage to figure out the ship is moving towards Tau Ceti.

Throughout the long days of tracking fuel consumption and reading data logs, neither of you addresses the unspoken connection, nor do you question the familiarity that you feel in your daily interactions. It shows up in the way you seamlessly understand what the other wants to say without having to say it. It is there when Ryland automatically hands you a tool exactly when you need it, or how your laughter instantly eases the tension in his shoulders. You both simply treat it as a silent, comforting boundary to keep from losing your minds while carrying the weight of a dying planet on your shoulders.

But boundaries eventually wear thin.

One evening, after hours of trying to figure out pilot controls, Ryland is sitting on the floor of the lab, his back resting against a console, staring blankly at the far wall. You walk over quietly and slide down next to him, your shoulder lightly brushing against his.

Ryland clears his throat, breaking the quiet. “It’s weird, isn’t it?” he whispers, his voice sounding small. He turns his head to look at you, his eyes searching yours, “Working like this. Pretending like we’re just two random people Stratt threw into a blender and sent into the void. I...I remember pieces of you. From before. I have this photo in my bag, and every time I look at it, my chest aches because I know I adored you. But I’ve been too terrified to ask if you felt it too, or if I’m just losing my mind”

You let out a soft, shaky breath, a bittersweet smile touching your lips. Reaching into the pocket of your yellow jumpsuit, you pull out a small, slightly creased piece of glossy paper and hold it out to him.

“You aren’t losing your mind, Ry” you say softly, “I went through my bag. And I found this”

Ryland’s hear skips a beat at the nickname you just let out. He takes the paper, his fingers brushing against yours, and looks down. It is a completely different photo from the one in his own bag. In this one, the setting is a chaotic laboratory filled with glass beakers and microscope equipment. The two of you are sitting cross-legged on the lab floor. You are asleep, with your head resting on Ryland’s shoulder. Ryland is wide awake, looking directly at the camera with a finger pressed to his lips in a sign to be quiet, a soft smile across his face as his arm holds you against his side.

Ryland’s thumb traces the edge of the photo, his breath catching in his throat as the visual evidence of your shared past stares back at him.

A soft, watery smile breaks across Ryland’s face as he looks up from the photo, his eyes crinkling at the corners. The heavy wall of hesitation between you crumbles, replaced by the comforting certainty that neither of you is truly alone in the dark. His hand reaches up, his fingers trembling slightly as they frame your jawline, the exact same gesture from his memories, but this time, it is real. He leans in, and you meet him halfway, closing the final inch between you.

The kiss is tentative at first, a soft collision of relief and recognition. But as his lips press firmly against yours, the familiarity of it hits like a tidal wave. His thumb caresses your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that has slipped down your face, while your hands instinctively find the fabric of his jumpsuit, pulling him closer as the kiss deepens.

You wake up to find Grace caring for you and Rocky leading to a deep conversation

Ryland Grace x fem!pilot!reader, platonic Rocky x fem!pilot!reader but the gender isn’t mentioned so can be read as any

Part two of ‘now it’s time to leave the capsule if you dare’

You wake up slowly. A grunt of pain leaves you as you shift against something. The burns that you got from dragging Rocky back into his tunnel burn from the shift of the bandages covering them. You soon realize what you lying against isn’t a wall but a human body, Graces body. He’s asleep you stare at his face and while remembering what happened. “Oh thank fucking god!” You exclaim at seeing him not only alive, but safe.

Your loud scream causes him to wake up in a frenzy. “What, what happened are you ok!” Grace says getting up so fast he smacks his head on the tunnel wall with a loud thud. He grabs his head and looks around franticly before finally stopping at you. “You’re awake oh my god you’re awake!” You go to say something but before getting the chance to he crushes you in a hug. You hug him back slowly before you soon hear sniffling from him. “I thought you were dying. You were asleep for so long. Rocky still is waking up but at least he moved you didn’t.”

Grace looks horrified just talking about it. He changes the subject quickly by talking about what he found out about the samples and how to solve the astrophage problem. He explains it all while still holding onto you. When he’s done you ask “Did you take care of us while we were under Dr. Grace? It seems like you did” with a small smile on your face.

He goes to say something while blushing but before he can there’s a thud. Then the sound of Rocky’s ball rolling quickly towards the both of you and the loud sound of Rocky’s translator says “GRACE, READER SAFE?” As he slows down to a stop in front of you both. Before Rocky can say anything else you and Grace throw yourselves on top of his ball in a make shift hug. “Ya we’re safe bud” Grace says with tears in his eyes. Rocky’s head hitting the side of the ball makes a thud as he does his way of hugging back. “Rocky glad. Reader saved Rocky.” You huff out a laugh then a grimace in pain. Rocky lets out a musical note of distress at the sound. “Reader hurt!? Rocky hurt Reader!” “No, no,no Rocky I’m ok!” You exclaim but Rocky is still upset about his shell burning you.

It takes a good ten minutes of calming him down and having him be distracted by the samples before you can slip away to talk to Grace again. “Are you still hurt Dr. Grace?” You ask “No, no I’m fine I should be asking you that!” “I will be fine you took well care of me” you state. “It’s the least I could do you and Rocky saved me” then in good old Ryland Grace fashion he rambles on and on about the samples then thank you again and back and forth. You kiss him to stop his rambling “I love you Ryland” he stares in awe at you. “I-I love you too” Grace says with a small smile. “GRACE READER MATE YET, QUESTION?” Grace flinches and yells “JESUS CHRIST, ROCKY!”

I would like one of Grace taking care of a reader with chronic anxiety that manifests as stomachaches if you're able to

I really like your writing

ty for your kind words & this request anon!

i hope i did it justice! <3

ryland can tell that something’s up.

you’ve grown quiet and withdrawn from where you were previously chatty and excited.

he has given you your space, let you seclude yourself into your shared bedroom as you try to finish getting ready.

Summary: Was it a bit dramatic to agree to go on a suicide mission in space after breaking off a situationship? Maybe. But at least you know that you weren’t delusional. After Rocky and Grace validate your anger. Especially Grace…

Warnings: Gender neutral reader (I.E. no gender specific pronouns, terms, gender identity, or anatomy used for them). Reader is mentioned to have had a situationship where feelings were involved and was sexual. Implied that Grace likes reader romantically. Rocky being protective over you (in a platonic way).

Author’s Snip: Don’t ask, I came up with the name first and just started writing. This was actually sitting in my drafts for a while.

Notes: Based off of this post I made.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request. Reblogs appreciated but no pressure.

Word Count: 1.0k

This was a noble cause. Stratt made that very clear. You and the rest of the people sent on the Hail Mary were the last fighting chance that Earth and its sun had against the astrophage. The world would honor you all as heroes for your sacrifice, even if the sacrifices would end up requiring the high price of two of your crewmates dying in stasis and the kidnapping of the other one. For you it didn’t cost too much. Eva had said that one thing that made you eligible in her eyes was that you didn’t have anyone on earth you would be leaving behind. No strong family bonds, no pets or kids, no lover.

That last part did sting you a little but you didn’t fault Eva for that. She didn’t know the bullshit you were going through with a guy you were somewhat entertaining with your “company” to put it in PG terms. You never talked about it while you were working with the team. You were a scientist and mechanic involved with a high stakes project to prevent the sun from dying, they didn’t need to know that you were in a convoluted situationship that you were slowly growing frustrated with. So whenever anybody trying to make small talk asked if you were seeing anyone, you’d skirt around it because you didn’t really know what was going on with you anymore.

Someone calls somebody asking to go out, you go out, something sort of sappy and romantic happens, you end up in each other's beds, you go home, you text back and forth for about a week, and then it's radio silence on his end till eventually someone calls to go out again. And it was just that for an entire year until you asked him what exactly you have going on and he just said “Nothing” and revealed that he was seeing other people the whole time and you were just his “favorite”….

So yeah, maybe nothing would change if you willingly flung yourself into space. He was radio silent again after all and you’re not about to get hoodwinked by a man named Lawrence again.

It’s just really awkward when Rocky turns to you and asks if you have a “mate”.

You could have just said no, but something about this moment with you, Rocky, and Grace made you feel safe to talk about it after hearing about the other two’s answers. That did mean that you had to explain to an alien rock what a “situationship” is and that you did everything that human mates do with this man but weren’t actually mates, and worst of all, that you actually thought that maybe you could have been and that's why you asked him what you were.

“Rocky hate Lawrence too. Waste [Name] time.” he adds.

“I wasted my own time.” you remark.

“Did he actually call you his “favorite”?” Grace cringes as he processes everything you just said.

“Yup! He said it with a shrug, like it was whatever.” you confirm. “We had spare keys for each other’s apartments, we knew each other’s last names, we had nicknames for our contacts, spare clothes in each other's apartments, he asked me to water his plants and feed his cat when he went off of vacation one time and learned all the plants name-. Oh! And I technically met his sister! She dropped by his apartment one morning after we were together and he even introduced us! Her name was Amara and she was really cool.” you started listing off only to start a tangent. Grace’s jaw could only drop more and more as you spoke.

“And he said you two were nothing but his favorite?” Grace asks again.

“And here was Eva thinking I was smart, huh?” you say sarcastically with a laugh at the end.

“You’re smart!” Grace exclaims, “You’re one of the smartest and coolest people I know! I actually felt really happy when I remembered you and worked together back on Earth.” he adds, but just when you think that's where he’s going to end it, Grace keeps going.

“I mean, that’s so stupid! You go out with someone for that long and have such a clear dynamic and do… stuff with them. And you feel comfortable enough to share information about yourself. He gave you a key! Who gives a spare key to a fling and introduce them to a family member?! You remembered his sister’s name!” Grace tangents before pausing mid rant to ask “What was the name of the plants and cat?”.

You didn’t even have to think about it, “A Swiss cheese vine named Stewart, three different pothos plants named Noodle, Rayman, and Udon, and a spider plant named Parker. His cat was a tortie named Toast.” you answer.

Grace shakes his head in disbelief, “You don’t do that and just call them your “favorite”! I would never do that to you!” he says.

As soon as those last words leave his mouth Grace stiffens. You blink at him in response, caught a bit off guard by it. “I-I mean, if I were in his situation and I had somebody that I was doing all of that with I would consider us together. O-or, you know, I wouldn’t let it get that far if I wasn’t serious. Not that I’d go fooling around with someone that much. I don’t… fool… around… You know what I mean.” Grace tries desperately to backtrack until he sort of gives up once he realizes he’s only digging himself into a deeper hole.

“Grace want to be mates with [Name], question?” Rocky questions. “Want to waste [Name] time too? No no no. Rocky will not let Grace do. [Name] deserve real mate!” Rocky stomps one of his little legs to assert his disapproval.

“No! I don’t want to mate with them! They’re just… I’m on their side! I don’t like this Lawrence guy either! I’m mad for them too.” Grace explains before he turns to you.

“I’m very sorry that he led you on. That wasn’t right of him.” Grace apologizes.

I leave it at that. Sending hugs and kisses ❤️

Misunderstandings

Ryland Grace x Single parent! Reader

Falling in love at first sight was a bit of a stretch, you're simply just that beautiful that you never seem to leave his mind. 1 problem, you're indifferent towards him, maybe there's no hope for him after all, is there?

Wc: 2.1k || fluff, writer is sleep deprived when writing this.

a/n: I am SO SORRY this took so long, I've been really busy. Anyways, you didn't specify a gender so I made it gn, your request was vague and I don't have any idea what to make with 'baddie' so I apologize if this isn't what you're looking for<\3

The Day That Was Supposed to Be Yours

Story: you were born in the sully family, with five fingers, and a skin Like humans, so neytiri was never able to accept you (part 8)

Plot: You made the first bond with your ikran the day was supposed to be yours but it got rained

Important not: this also have 2 parts

All parts here, like just click here and it will lead you to parts one and other parts OKAY?

Tags: @yoko7658

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The mountains echoed with the sharp cry of an ikran.

Your hands trembled as your fingers gripped the rough edge of the cliff. Wind whipped through your hair, carrying the scent of stone and rain. Below was nothing but empty sky.

Jake stood with the other adults farther back, his heart pounding harder than yours.

"You've got this," he whispered, though you were far beyond hearing him.

The ikran dove.

You jumped.

For one terrifying heartbeat, there was only open air.

Its talons scraped your forearm as you reached for its neck, tearing your skin open. Blood streaked down your arm, but you refused to let go.

The ikran twisted violently, trying to throw you away.

"No..." you grunted through clenched teeth.

"I choose you!"

It bucked again.

Then...

Silence.

Its movements slowed.

You reached forward with your queue.

The bond formed.

Your eyes widened.

The ikran's eyes met yours.

It accepted you.

A cheer erupted from the mountain.

Jake laughed louder than anyone.

"She did it!"

He threw both fists into the air.

"That's my girl!"

Even Neytiri smiled, surprised by your determination.

---

By the time everyone returned to the village, the news had spread.

The youngest hunters decorated the central clearing with woven leaves and glowing flowers.

Food was prepared.

Music filled the air.

Children ran between the adults laughing excitedly.

One of the elders stepped forward.

"Today we celebrate another child of the Omatikaya who has bonded with her ikran."

Everyone applauded.

Your cheeks warmed.

You weren't used to everyone looking at you.

Jake walked over without caring who watched.

"There she is."

Before you could say anything, he wrapped both arms around you.

A real hug.

Strong.

Warm.

Proud.

He laughed quietly against your hair.

"I'm proud of you."

"So proud."

You hugged him back just as tightly.

"...Thanks, Dad."

"You earned this."

His hand gently brushed over the bandage wrapped around your injured arm.

"Hurt?"

"A little."

He smiled.

"You'll have a scar."

You grinned.

"I know."

"It'll remind you what you're capable of."

---

Neteyam arrived next.

He folded his arms with a teasing smile.

"So..."

"How'd you do it?"

Lo'ak immediately interrupted.

"No, seriously."

"Mine nearly threw me off three times."

You laughed softly.

"I almost fell."

Neteyam blinked.

"Really?"

"I just... didn't let go."

Lo'ak stared.

"...That's insane."

"You've always looked so quiet."

"I didn't know you were that stubborn."

Jake chuckled.

"I did."

---

Tuk came running through the crowd, nearly tripping over her own feet.

She wrapped both arms around your waist.

"You did it!"

You laughed.

"I did."

She looked at you with huge hopeful eyes.

"...Can you take me flying tomorrow?"

You smiled.

"If Dad says yes."

Jake laughed.

"One ride."

Tuk squealed happily.

---

For the first time...

You felt seen. (im gonna ruin that)

Not because of your skin.

Not because of your father.

Not because people pitied you.

Because of something you had done.

You stood in the center of the celebration, smiling shyly while people congratulated you.

For once...

The moment belonged to you.

---

Then...

A distant ikran cry echoed overhead.

Everyone instinctively looked up.

Another young rider descended from the sky.

The ikran landed gracefully.

Kiri climbed down.

Gasps spread through the crowd.

"She bonded too!"

"On the same day!"

"How incredible!"

The excitement doubled instantly.

People hurried toward her.

The music grew louder.

The conversations changed.

Instead of...

"Look what she accomplished."

It became...

"Both sisters bonded today!"

"What a wonderful day for the Sully family!"

Without anyone intending harm...

Your celebration became shared.

Half the gifts meant for you were handed to Kiri.

Half the stories became about her.

Half the smiles.

Half the attention.

Jake noticed immediately.

His smile faded for just a second.

He glanced toward you.

You were still smiling.

Just...

Not with your eyes.

---

You stepped back from the growing crowd.

No one noticed.

Everyone wanted to hear Kiri describe her flight.

You looked around the clearing.

It happened again.

Just like always.

You thought quietly,

Of course.

Nothing is ever just mine.

---

Across the clearing, Neytiri reached Kiri first.

She embraced her tightly.

"My daughter."

Kiri laughed happily.

"I did it!"

"I knew you would."

Neytiri kissed her forehead.

Jake was still standing beside you, watching the scene unfold.

His expression darkened.

He understood exactly what was happening.

He looked toward you.

You hadn't moved.

You simply watched.

Not angry.

Not surprised.

Just...

Resigned.

---

Finally, Neytiri turned away from Kiri.

Her eyes found yours standing several steps away.

For a brief moment...

Everything else disappeared.

She remembered every conversation with Jake.

Every tear she had cried.

Every chance she had missed.

She walked toward you carefully.

People continued celebrating behind her.

She stopped in front of you.

Her voice was hesitant.

"Congra—"

You raised your hand gently.

Not aggressively.

Just enough to stop her.

"...Save it."

She froze.

You looked directly into her eyes.

"Save it for yourself."

Your voice wasn't loud.

It didn't need to be.

"I know."

She swallowed.

"I know you're trying."

You nodded once.

"But every time..."

You glanced over her shoulder.

She followed your gaze.

Kiri was still surrounded by people.

Laughing.

Being hugged.

"...Every time I finally get something..."

"It stops being mine."

You looked back at Neytiri.

"I don't even think anyone noticed."

"They did."

She whispered.

You shook your head.

"No."

"They noticed us."

A painful silence settled between you.

You looked down at the fresh bandage wrapped around your wounded arm.

"I earned this."

Another pause.

"And somehow..."

"...I still have to share it."

Neytiri opened her mouth to answer, but no words came.

There was nothing she could say that would undo the moment.

From behind you, Jake called gently,

"Hey."

You turned.

He held out his hand.

"Come here."

Without hesitation, you walked to him.

Jake rested a hand on your uninjured shoulder.

He had heard enough to understand.

He looked at the gathered crowd, then back at you.

"So..."

He smiled warmly.

"Tell me again."

You blinked.

"What?"

"The part where your ikran nearly threw you off."

A tiny smile tugged at your lips.

"It almost did."

"I want the whole story."

"Again?"

"As many times as you want."

You laughed quietly.

For the rest of the evening, Jake stayed by your side, listening as though he hadn't already heard every detail.

Because he wanted you to know something no ceremony could take away.

No matter where the crowd looked...

He had never stopped looking at you.

—part two of this because i said so

The Gift That Could Never Be Equal

The celebration lasted until sunset.

Songs echoed through the village. Hunters laughed around the fires while children chased one another beneath the glowing plants. Your ikran rested peacefully nearby, occasionally lifting its head whenever you looked its way.

You stayed close to Jake for most of the evening.

It was easier that way.

Then one of the elders called for silence.

Neytiri stepped into the center of the gathering with Kiri beside her.

In her hands was a small bundle wrapped in carefully woven cloth.

Kiri looked confused.

"What is it?"

Neytiri smiled—a soft smile that carried both pride and memory.

"My mother gave this to me when I bonded with my first ikran."

She slowly unfolded the cloth.

Inside rested a beautifully crafted bracelet. Tiny carved beads, polished stones, and delicate feathers had been woven together by skilled hands many years before. Though old, it had been lovingly cared for.

Neytiri gently held it.

"My grandmother made it."

Kiri's eyes widened.

"It belonged to her... then to my mother... then to me."

She carefully fastened it around Kiri's wrist.

"And now..."

"...it belongs to you."

Kiri stared at it in disbelief.

"Mother..."

She immediately hugged Neytiri.

"Thank you."

Neytiri wrapped both arms around her daughter.

"Wear it proudly."

The crowd smiled warmly.

Several women nodded with approval.

"It remains in the family."

"A beautiful tradition."

You stood only a few steps away.

Watching.

Quietly.

You looked down at your own empty wrist.

For a brief moment...

You wondered what it would have been like to receive something that carried generations of love.

Then you reminded yourself not to wonder.

---

A few minutes later, Neytiri approached you.

She held something in one hand.

A necklace.

It wasn't ugly.

It simply...

Had no history.

No careful wrapping.

No story attached to it.

The cord looked newer than the beads. The carving style didn't resemble Neytiri's work. It looked like something obtained in trade with another family.

She stopped before you.

"I have something for you as well."

Your eyes settled on it.

Then on her.

"...For me?"

"Yes."

She offered it.

"I wished for you to have something."

You accepted it silently.

It rested in your palm.

Light.

Cold.

You turned it over once.

No memories.

No meaning.

Just...

Something.

You looked back at Kiri.

Still smiling.

Still wearing the bracelet passed from mother...

To daughter.

You looked at the necklace again.

Something inside you quietly broke.

Without anger...

Without shouting...

You let your fingers open.

The necklace slipped from your hand.

It struck the ground with a dull sound.

Everyone nearby fell silent.

Neytiri stared at it.

Then at you.

You met her eyes.

Your voice remained calm.

"I don't want something you remembered after giving away what mattered."

Silence.

"If I mattered..."

You swallowed.

"...you would've already known what you wanted to give me."

You stepped around her.

Leaving the necklace where it had fallen.

No one stopped you.

---

Neytiri remained standing there.

Unable to move.

Her hands slowly fell to her sides.

She looked at the necklace lying in the dirt.

Jake saw everything from across the clearing.

He didn't say anything.

He simply watched you disappear into the darkness beyond the fires.

---

Late that night...

The village had finally fallen asleep.

The celebration fires had become glowing embers.

Only insects and distant creatures filled the silence.

You sat alone outside the family's marui, knees drawn against your chest.

Your ikran slept somewhere high above among the cliffs.

You weren't crying.

You simply...

Felt empty.

Footsteps approached quietly.

You already knew who it was.

Jake sat beside you without speaking.

For several minutes, neither of you said a word.

Then he smiled gently.

"I've been waiting a long time for today."

You glanced at him.

"What do you mean?"

Instead of answering, he reached behind him.

From a carefully wrapped piece of cloth, he lifted another necklace.

Your eyes widened.

It was beautiful.

Not because it was covered in precious stones.

But because every part of it was unmistakably handmade.

Small carved wooden beads.

Tiny feathers from forest birds.

A polished shell from one of your favorite rivers.

A woven pattern using colors you had always pointed out as a child.

Even one bead had been carefully shaped into the tiny outline of an ikran.

You stared in silence.

Jake chuckled softly.

"Took me weeks."

Your voice barely came out.

"...Weeks?"

"I kept messing it up."

He laughed quietly.

"You'd think carving tiny beads would be easier."

You gently accepted it.

Your fingers traced every detail.

"I was going to give it to you..."

"...the day you bonded."

He smiled proudly.

"I just didn't expect today to get so... complicated."

You looked up at him.

"You made this?"

"Every piece."

"Even this carving?"

"Especially that carving."

He pointed to the small ikran bead.

"Took me four tries."

You smiled faintly.

"It looks perfect."

Jake shrugged.

"It isn't."

"It is."

He reached over and carefully tied the necklace around your neck himself.

"There."

He leaned back to admire it.

"Looks better on you than it ever did sitting in my workshop."

You lowered your head.

Running your fingers over the smooth wooden beads.

Each one slightly different.

Each one carrying tiny imperfections only someone who made them by hand could leave behind.

You imagined him sitting alone after everyone had gone to sleep.

Carving.

Polishing.

Starting over whenever he wasn't satisfied.

Waiting.

Waiting for the day you would earn it.

Your vision blurred.

A tear landed against one of the wooden beads.

Then another.

Jake noticed immediately.

"...Hey."

He frowned gently.

"What's wrong?"

You tried to answer.

Nothing came out.

Instead...

You clutched the necklace tightly against your chest with both hands.

As though someone might take it away.

Your shoulders shook.

Jake wrapped an arm around you without hesitation.

"It's okay."

You buried your face against him.

Your words came out broken between quiet sobs.

"...You..."

Jake rubbed your back.

"I'm here."

"You..."

Another tear slipped down your face.

"...You actually..."

You couldn't finish.

He understood anyway.

"You made something just for me."

Jake closed his eyes.

His own throat tightened.

"Yeah."

"Just for you."

"No one else's."

You cried harder.

Not because of the necklace itself.

But because, for the first time in what felt like forever...

Someone had spent weeks creating something with only you in mind.

No sharing.

No comparisons.

No forgotten feelings.

Just...

A father who had quietly carved every bead while imagining the smile his daughter might have when she finally earned her first ikran.

Jake rested his cheek gently against the top of your head and whispered,

"I'll never let you wonder whether you're worth the time."

And holding the handmade necklace close to your heart, you realized that no family heirloom—no matter how old or precious—could ever mean more to you than something made by the hands of the person who had never stopped choosing you.

hi hello i'm back with more ramblings about this. part 1 can be found here.

you meet up with ryland at lunch that day and spend your allotted time together, chatting away about what drew you to your respective careers. ryland shares his favorite science-experiment-gone-wrong stories and you tell him about all the crazy shit you saw during your nursing school rotations.

lunch together becomes a part of your work routine. you get together every day (or at least the days ryland isn't assigned to lunch duty). sometimes in the break room, sometimes on a bench outside, one time in your car when the air conditioning in the teacher's lounge broke.

lunch together turns into morning coffee meet-ups, the two of you getting to school just a little earlier so you can steal some extra time together before classes start. it isn't long before you've both memorized each others' coffee preferences.

one morning ryland shows up with your favorite frozen coffee drink from the cozy shop a few streets down from the school. you'd only mentioned it in passing, but he'd remembered and gone out of his way to get it for you. the rest of the morning your face hurts from smiling so much.

then you start popping by his room at the end of the day on your way out. you tell yourself it's because his room is on the way and you're just being friendly but you know it's because you want to get as much time with him as you can.

he never seems to mind, a smile lighting up his face whenever he sees you appear in his doorway. you progress from just standing in his door to taking a seat at the front of the classroom, chatting away as ryland grades papers or prepares projects for the next day.

one afternoon after the students have left you're lounging in his chair while he preps microscope slides. you hear the soft sound of glass breaking and a quiet hiss. turns out one of the slides had broken and nicked him across the tip of his ring finger.

even though it's completely unnecessary you offer to help him bandage it. ryland quietly accepts and you spend way longer than needed cleaning the cut. you love the feel of his hand resting in yours, and the way his fingers seem to instinctively curl towards yours as you finish applying the bandage.

you're trying not to let yourself be driven mad with wanting. there's definitely a mutual attraction between the two of you. you can feel it, like electricity in the air before a storm. you can see it, in the way ryland's gaze lingers on you a tad longer than necessary. it's there, it's palpable, but neither of you acknowledges it at first.

truth be told, you're kind of getting a thrill out of it. there's something so addicting about the buildup, about waiting to see which of you will break first.

it's ryland, of course. one day during your lunch, as you're sitting in a quiet corner of the teacher's lounge, he turns to you after you've finished talking animatedly about the latest episode of your favorite tv show and he's got a fond smile on his face and a warmth in his eyes and the force of having that look directed at you almost snatches your breath away. he's quiet for a second and then he asks (in a way that he would not say is nervous at all but most definitely is) if you would want to meet up with him - outside of work, of course.

"you inviting me on a date, mr. grace?" you ask, and relish in the way his cheeks turn pink and he huffs out a nervous little laugh.

"yeah, i am."

your heart feels like it's going to come right out of your chest with how fast it's galloping against your ribcage. you beam at him, and reach across the table to take his hand. "it's about time."

Synopsis: just general headcanons (nothing explicit) for my favorite silly science teacher for before he filled the Hail Mary full of Grace (can be before or if it never happened, your choice).

WC: 800.

AN: was laying in bed earlier and just kept thinking about what kind of things he'd be up to before getting Sent Away. This is what I got from those thoughts. Enjoy!

Gender Neutral Reader.

Friend Sad, Rocky-Grace Fix

Summary: Rocky finds your heart rate and energy being too low even though you don’t seem to by physically sick or tired. Grace and Rocky are both worried, so Rocky goes to ask how you’re doing. You have a bit of a moment where you open up and explain what’s going on and even consider details about Rocky that maybe you never considered before.

Warnings: Mental health issues such as depression and implied talk about suicide and SH ideations mentioned. No real SH described but there are definetly implications about reader and Rocky having issues with their respective mental healths. Gender neutral reader (no gender specific pronouns, identities, terms, anatomy mentioned or used).

Author’s Snip: You ever think about how Rocky was willing to die or risk his life for Grace twice? Cause I do now. He better get therapy when they get to Erid too.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request. Reblogs appreciated but no pressure.

Word Count: 500~

“[Name] heart rate very low and seem to have lower energy than observed in Grace. [Name] sick, question? [Name] dying?!” Rocky asks, causing you to open your eyes from where you’re laying on the Don’t-Go-Crazy room floor. Rocky is right next to your head in his little xenoball, somehow having not been heard by you, and tilting his carapace downwards like he's looking at you. You quickly sit up, bringing your knees up and holding onto them so that you have something to help you stay up. You try to conjure your face to look less tired and place a more energetic cadence in your voice so that your little friend can’t tell that you were spacing out. Which now that you think about it only half works since he sort of can’t see your expressions properly.

“No, no. I’m fine!” you say with that same cadence. “Do you need something?” you ask.

“No, statement. Rocky worried. Grace also worried and wanted to check on [Name].” Rocky says.

“Tell Rocky what wrong, please.” Rocky request. Him saying ‘please’ catches you off guard. You knew that it was in his vocabulary since you and Grace taught him the meaning when he was curious upon you and Grace used to to ask for a tool. But the fact that he said it at the end like how he does when he’s clarifying that he’s asking a question, stating, or even demanding something. As if he’s begging you to tell him. And there’s something about how he stands there looking at you. You swear if he did have eyes, he’d be giving you puppy dog eyes, plus the fact that Grace is also worried that you can’t bring yourself to lie anymore. So you sigh and drop the act.

“It’s a little complicated.” you admit. “Sometimes humans get sad for no reason. People’s brains just make them think sad thoughts even if they’re relational or not true. We can’t help it. It makes us not want to do things because we can’t find the motivation. Sometimes it even makes us want to do things too, but that’s only when it's really bad.” you explain.

“[Name] feel the sadness now, question?” Rocky asks.

You nod.

“[Name] want to do things?” Rocky asks.

You can’t explain it. Maybe it's the subtle little shuffle he does or the soft crow noise that he makes before his translator communicates those words for him, but he sounds genuinely worried. Like somehow he knows what you mean when you said depression makes people want to “do things”. You didn’t want to discredit the idea that Eridians can also feel very complex and deep emotions, and have their own burdens and troubles. After all, Rocky seemed very burdened by survivors'guilt and very quickly self sacrificing. But you just never thought that maybe they have cases where they could be severe enough to warrant ideations. Not until now.

You realize that you’ve let too long of a silence happen after Rocky’s question. “No!” you quickly answer before correcting your tone, “No. No, I don’t want to do that. I just feel really sad sometimes and just want to do nothing but lay around till I feel better. It just takes a while to get there.” you reassure him.

“Will Rocky-Grace being with [Name] help get there, question?” Rocky asks.

You think about it for a second before nodding.

I would like to request headcanons of Neytiri and human reader from your fiction called "For Him". I loves that, it was really cute.

What I want is headcanons of what their relationship is moving forward. I wanna see Neytiri warm up to child reader, and start to love her like her own. And Jake's reaction to Neytiri acting towards reader.

I just want some fluff. Some good old family fluff and love.

Please and thank you!!!!🙇🏼‍♀️🙇🏼‍♀️

ooooooooooooohh~!! ok ok, I can see a lot of interesting things with this one! Alrighty, sit back, relax and enjoy~!!

For him

--------------------------

For her

For jake, seeing neytiri bond all of a sudden with his child was a welcoming surprise. No more awkward dinners, no more lingering good nights at the base, and no more odd silence between the two.

Now he opens his eyes to see his child and new mate cuddle together, share familial kisses, and teach each other new things.

This was something he prays to Eywa everyday. Grateful that they finally see each other.

While he may not know what had come to neytiri to see his daughter in a new light, the gift his child made for him for father's day does give a hint.

For neytiri, it was seeing everything with new eyes. Who knew her sully daughter had an intricate eye for the smallest details? Knows what color can look well with another? Her knowledge on stones was a lovely trait.

For a long while neytiri felt regret of not letting herself be more open to her mate's child. All this time of being distant when she could have been there for the poor girl! Well, best to make up for it with a lot of affection and daily bonding.

The sully girl is the most wonderful child neytiri has ever had the blessing to meet, even if she is human, neytiri feels as if she holds her own blood inside. No longer caring how different the child is.

If anything, the sully daughter makes neytiri want to be a mother, in away she already is, but to have a big family, younglings looking up to their big sister. Yes, neytiri can already imagine that.

Her darling sully girl, being the mighty leader of her future siblings, short in stature but no doubt will be a force not to be mess with.

Perhaps defy others and be more if she so desires. No matter that path, neytiri will be there to witness and support her.

Mo'at seeing this good change of neytiri, feels more comfortable in welcoming the sully daughter into her arms. Being affectionate and doting. Cares not for what others think, the sully girl is now her granddaughter.

Even as years pass on, with more sully children being born. The mother-daughter bond never swayed down, nor being challenged. Neytiri sees the sully girl as her flesh and blood. From child to now adult, it doesn't matter. Thats her baby girl.

Jake Seeing the bond as the years pass by, he is grateful. While he wont admit, he got worried when neteyam was conceived and born. Worried that neytiri will go back to her old ways and hate his first born daughter. Prefer their na'vi child over the human child. Thankfully that didnt happen.

If anything, neytiri was set on showing his daughter the big sister responsibilities, which the young girl took very seriously.

Even neteyam viewed his sister as someone to look up to and admire. Never question why she is so different. Not just him but all the other siblings like lo'ak, kiri and tuk.

In a way, the sully daughter is someone who is the glue of the family. Loved, treasured and cannot live without.

Yaaaaaaaaay! A father's day request! I have a good idea for this one! Hope you enjoy!

-------------

For him

Things have been steadily going back to normal, as normal as it can get after a massive war. Healing has begun, and new things arose. Bonds mended, new ones form, and old bonds remain strong. However, there are times when bonds are not formed. Be it never, after a long time, or really really slow. 

Neytiri, daughter of the strong hearted Tsahik Mo’at and the late but beloved and strong olo’eyktan, Eytukan. She is strong, powerful, brave, kind, wild, she is many things. However one thing neytiri isn't very open to is accepting or changing. Life was perfect before the humans ruined everything. Took many people away, but even she must admit that the humans have given her something she would cherish forever. Rather someone, her beloved jake sully. 

Neytiri would be the first to say she is proud, happy, prideful, joyous even, to have someone like him to be tied to. He gave her the freedom she wanted,  making things exciting, he was full of surprises. 

Having a human daughter was a surprise neytiri did not expect, or wanted.

When Ryland remembers his life on Earth, specifically his love life, he finds that it’s not as impressive as yours. You decide to change that.

(2.3k word count, fluff, no use of y/n)

thank you to @sleeplessdreamer14 for the inspiration for this one! Hopefully you enjoy the tooth rotting fluff! ^^

————————————————————————

Ryland Grace has had his fair share of weird romantic experiences.

Sure, there was that one awkward date with his lab partner in his graduate school days. The one where they went to get coffee and he was so nervous that his hands trembled where he gripped the paper cup. Then, of course, he spilled his coffee down his white button down shirt in the middle of a conversation. It stained the front a deep brown, and she had just looked at him with a pitying expression. She left him sitting alone right after that, spouting some flimsy excuse about a project that she forgot about.

He didn’t even get her number.

summary : you don't exactly like talking because you overthink things incredibly hard, so ryland figures something out to keep your mind from spiraling from itself.

pairing: ryland grace x f!reader 𑣲⋆｡˚

genre: fluff, anxious! reader, ryland being a sweetheart, new established relationship, ry leads a lot essentially but he doesn’t mind, reader has a habit of hiding her face in her palms/ry’s chest when flustered, self indulgent because why not?

songs used : dance with me by beebadoobee and feelings by lauv

wc: 554

[bunny's note] ᯓ➤ fun fact! this was actually one of the first things i wrote for the ryland grace writing idea pile i had, also had sue beta read this like a few weeks ago haha. minimally edited.

dividers by @/pxrce-lain!

⤷ "cause if we dance then you don't have to speak,

and i know it's hard to tell but i think i really like you."

“i’ll guide you. and yes, it’s okay if you step on my feet,”

ryland sweetly assures you as he leads you both to the dance floor. the lights have dimmed as the event hall continued through the night, the speakers playing a soft instrumental for couples to sway to. it created an atmosphere everyone seemed to enjoy, with people dragging their lovers to dance to the beat.

does he find it disgusting if you have sweaty hands? god, you couldn’t dwell on it much 'cause he already took your hand in his. you can hear the pounding of your heart in your ears, but it's okay because ryland was holding your hand. some couples who were on the dance floor before the dj changed the song were already swaying, clearly engrossed by their lovers, not even caring about the world around them.

ryland manages to find a spot where it is less crowded, much to your relief. his hands find their way to your waist while your shaky hands hesitate to wrap around his neck, so they settle on his broad shoulders. he notices.

“sweetheart, it’s only me.” he smiles at you; you try to return it, but it only comes out as a grimace. he chuckles, which makes you relax a bit. curse him and his patience. “we can go really slow. it’s okay.”

“just take it slow,” ryland guides you. he sways side to side, making you follow his lead. “and move your feet to the beat.” after a few times of almost stepping on his feet, you got the hang of it. your hands eventually found their place around his neck as you’ve relaxed bit by bit.

ryland hums quietly to the song, his eyes focused on your small form. his thumbs rub circles into your side. seeing you go out of your comfort zone to dance with him made him feel warm inside. “you still doing okay?”

you nod but it looked like you had something else you want to say. he encourages you with a tilt of his head.

“i just… like not talking a lot.”

“that’s why i asked you to dance with me.” a look of confusion crosses your face, and he continues. “cause if we dance, you don’t have to speak. it’s a win for both of us. you don’t have to overthink what to say, and i get to hold you close. see?”

his confession temporarily disarms you emotionally, making you bury your face into his chest. you feel vibrations come through it as he laughs softly at your reaction.

“i know it’s hard to tell sometimes, but i uh really like you,” you whisper, scared that just by uttering those words you’ll wake up from this sweet dream you conjured up. your eyes couldn’t meet his, choosing to bury yourself even more at his chest instead, you felt the absence of one of his hands on your waist, but the feeling of his warm palm on your lower jaw greeted you. it gently leads you to look at him. your eyes darted up to meet his, and god did it make you shy. he always looked at you with so much love.

“sweetheart, i really really like you too.”

god this man will kill you with his sweetness, but you don’t mind at all.

Like maybe their relationship is still fresh and new and things are still awkward between them too

Hi Anon! First of all, if you didn’t know already, I love you! Your brain is amazing for coming up with this. I love this so much, it’s hilarious, and I can picture Ryland making that exact face😂😂Thank you for sending this in! I had fun expanding on this-

You’ve been seeing Ryland for a few months now. It’s going well - well, in the fragile, careful way a relationship goes in its initial phase. He is sweet, constantly trying to be a “good boyfriend” but you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he overthinks every single move. Not that you’re any better. Terrified of overwhelming him, you purposely keep your affection to a minimum.

When you kiss, he spends the first ten seconds worrying over where his hands should be. Most of the time they just hover awkwardly in the air. Only after you murmur a soft, “Relax, Ry” do his palms finally settle on your face or your waist. Even then, you can feel the slight, nervous tremble in his fingertips. You internally sigh every single time. You just want him to let go. You want him to take control.

Because, honestly, have you seen him? He is a ridiculously pretty sight. He has messy, dark-blonde hair and blue eyes framed by glasses that might as well be useless with the way he constantly peers over them. All of his awkwardness and doubt only vanish when he rambles about his science classes, or how much he loves teaching the kids but absolutely despises parent-teacher meetings.

Which brings you to now. You are sitting at a corner table in a quiet cafe, waiting for him. He texted a few minutes ago saying he’ll be slightly late. You don’t mind the wait, especially because your phone rings right after. It’s your best friend, calling to catch up.

“So, how are things with Ryland?” your friend asks after you finish swapping general life updates.

Your heart does a little flutter at the mere mention of his name. You sigh, leaning back in your chair. “It’s going really well” you say.

But your friend starts asking more digging, playful questions, and the dam breaks.

“He’s just so shy, you know? Well, not shy in a typical way, just incredibly awkward” you vent, dropping your voice to a whisper, “he kisses me so tentatively. God, I wish he would just stick his tongue down my throat without a care”

That would have been fine. That is surface-level venting. But now that you’ve started, the word vomit will not stop.

“Oh my God, and his hands” you continue, “they’re so feathery light when he touches me. How hard would it be for him to just push me against a wall and have his way with me?!” You don’t wait for your friend’s reaction.

“And those glasses of his! He looks so hot in them, but honestly? He’d look even better with those glasses on while he’s between my legs” You take a sharp breath, “And the rambling! I love it, I really do, but I can’t help but imagine him talking science to me while he fucks me. And the damn jackets he always wears, I just want to rip them right off of him, I mean seriousl-”

You stand up, intending to walk over to the counter to finally order your coffee. But the moment you spin around, the world comes to a sudden halt.

Ryland is standing right behind your chair.

He heard you. He heard every single word of the filthy thoughts you have about him.

Your heart rate shoots up. Your stomach drops instantly. It’s exactly like the terrifying feeling on a rollercoaster right before the drop, except the drop itself isn’t the scary part, it’s this agonising realisation of what’s coming.

Your eyes widen in horror. You frantically hit the red button on your screen, cutting your friend off mid-sentence, and shove the phone away.

Your eyes lock onto Ryland. Behind the very glasses you just fantasised about, his blue eyes are wide and unblinking. His lips are parted in shock. He doesn’t even seem to be breathing.

Did you actually break the man?

Mortification burns through your chest. He was already so awkward around you, and now you have mentally scarred him.

“Uh...” You force your throat to work, your voice trembling, “Ry?”

He is completely frozen. No blinking. No movement.

Fuck, you swear internally. Braving the awkwardness, you step closer into his space. Your fingers reach out, lightly brushing against the fabric of the jacket he’s wearing. Oh my God, you realise with a wave of panic, I didn’t even leave the jacket out of it.

“Hey. Ry” you whisper again, putting a tiny bit of pressure on his sleeve.

A sharp inhale hitches in his chest. He finally blinks, suddenly snapped out of whatever psychological trauma you just inflicted on him. Now, he starts blinking rapidly, his chest heaving as his brain tries to process the data.

“Ryland, I’m so sorry” you rush out, your face completely flushed, “can you hear me?”

A small, barely audible, “Huh?” squeaks out of him.

“I...” he starts, his throat straining, “uh. That was...”

The brilliant school teacher, the man who can lecture seamlessly for hours about the universe, is incapable of forming a basic sentence.

“I’m so sorry, Ry. That was just...I was just talking nonsense” you trail off, desperate for an escape the embarrassment, “can we...can we just forget it? Please?”

Ryland swallows hard. The frantic blinking stops. His eyes fixate on yours, a strange, focus suddenly replacing his shock.

“Did you mean it?” he asks, finally finding his voice.

Your breath hitches. You feel the heat radiating off your own cheeks, “No, um-I mean, it’s just-”

“Hey” He cuts you off. The stutter is gone, “Be honest with me. It’s alright”

Your heart is beating so loudly that you are positive he can hear it in the cafe. When the silence stretches and you still can’t find a lie convincing enough to save yourself, Ryland takes a slow step forward.

The nervous hesitation is gone. His hand moves with deliberation, his fingers wrapping around yours. There is no tremble in his fingertips this time. None at all.

He leans down slightly, his eyes locking onto yours behind his lenses.

“Just tell me” he whispers, his voice dropping into a low tone that sends a shiver straight down your spine, “use your words”

✮ pairing: teacher!ryland grace x teacher!reader

✮ content: fluff, romantic comedy, teacher au, teacher Ryland Grace, mutual pining

✮ w/c: 1.1k

✧ MASTERLIST / ✧AO3

A parent-teacher consultation should have been a normal evening. Discussing grades, answering questions, and helping students improve. It was not supposed to end with a parent assuming you and Ryland Grace were married. Unfortunately, neither of you could really blame them.

AWW hanging out with the pebbles who are so excited to involved with more human interaction

lmk if this fire 👌

My brain isn’t working tonight so bear with me, okay? This is gonna be so short. 🧍

Grace is #trying to be so cool to the viewers and you just watch him like “that’s great, sweetie”. He’s kinda awkward but trying to put on a show like he did for his kids.

Trips A LOT because he’s looking at the camera and not where he’s going.

Rocky of course is making appearance and complaining the whole time about how ridiculous Grace looks, how it’s so obvious he’s putting on a show, and may or may not intentionally get in the way so Grace trips.

Maybe he records some of his classes after receiving explicit permission from all students and parents. The last thing he wants to do is make someone uncomfortable. If he does, he is going to cry and you’re gonna have to be like “dude, fr”.

But yeah, records his classes and everyone sees how much love and joy he gets from teaching. How much he loves his students. Everyone also ends up learning so much from his classes. You make appearances because you’re the example human for some of his explanations.

Will be like “can I record this? 🥹” and you’re like “damn puppy eyes” and say yes every time. Grace knows when to not record, he just gets the vibe of you being tired or not feeling it, and he’ll just chill with you instead.

So many movie and tv show references that NO ONE but you understands. If someone is like “wtf is Grace talking about”, he will launch into an explanation on the media until you’re like “Grace, please”.

Everyone is fascinated by this show of the only humans on their planet, and will be tuning in for every new recording. No matter how short or “stupid” it seems. Sometimes you two just rant or play games, explaining the rules and what’s happening for everyone watching.

“The Way of the Wild”

Sergei ‘Kraven’ Kravinoff x Female Reader

Warnings: Tracking & Hunting | Gentle Romance | Forest AU

Summary: Where Kraven teaches you how to track and hunt — equal parts tension, nature, and romance.

Your boots squelched faintly in the mud as you stepped over a gnarled tree root, brushing low-hanging leaves from your path. The forest was thick with morning mist, sunbeams slicing through the canopy in golden ribbons. Birds called in the distance, but closer—there was silence.

Behind you, Kraven moved like a shadow, his footsteps soundless on the forest floor. You could feel his presence before you heard it: that low, calming growl of his breath, the power in his stride.

“Step softer,” he murmured behind you. “You’re moving like you’re afraid the forest will eat you.”

You glanced over your shoulder. “I am slightly afraid the forest will eat me.”

He gave a low, amused grunt and stepped up beside you. He crouched, motioning for you to do the same. You followed, mimicking his every move.

“Here,” he said, pointing to a shallow print in the earth. “Deer. Young one. Few hours ahead of us.”

You stared at it, brow furrowed. “That just looks like a blob.”

He chuckled under his breath. “It’s not about sight alone. Smell the air. Feel the weight of the silence. The forest speaks—you just don’t know its language yet.”

You turned to him slowly. “Then teach me.”

That stopped him for a second. You weren’t just asking about tracks and trails, and he knew it. You were asking to step into his world. And that meant something.

So he did.

He placed a hand gently on your back, guiding you through the undergrowth, pointing out marks in the moss, broken branches, tufts of fur caught on bark. Every small thing suddenly meant something larger.

You learned to breathe quieter.

To watch the birds scatter.

To feel when you weren’t alone anymore.

Hours passed like seconds. You found the deer eventually, grazing in a distant glade. Kraven didn’t let you take the shot. Not yet.

“This part,” he whispered as the wind swayed the tall grass around you both, “is the most important. You watch. You respect.”

You nodded, heart pounding—not from fear, but the strange calm of it all. The forest had wrapped around you, quiet and infinite.

And beside you, Kraven looked over, eyes softer now. “You did well.”

You smiled faintly. “I had a good teacher.”

He moved close then, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek with his calloused fingers, his voice low.

“You walk the wild better than you think. The forest doesn’t want to eat you. It wants to know you.”

“And you?” you whispered.