im Avocado on ao3 and im a dumpster fire in real life // they/them, 31 // 18+ MINORS DNI // Feel free to say hi! 🥑 // requests open for: Ken/Ryland Grace/Lars Lindstrom/Holland March // I block blank blogs & spam likers who don't reblog
requests are: open for Holland March/Ken/Ryland Grace/Lars Lindstrom // commissions are: open // art trades with mutuals: open // some of my work is NSFW, 18+
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Fandoms have a serious problem with how creators are being treated these days.
Fandom creators spend hours of their free time to create something to make fandom thrive...for free and for the love of the game.
And what do they get? A wholeass heap of fuck all. No reblogs, no comments, no nothing. And people are surprised that creators are dropping out left, right, and centre??
"Why is there no long fic anymore?" "Why did my favourite writer stop?" "Why is my favourite artist not posting anymore?"
I implore you to ask yourself: "What's the last thing I did to support my fandom? Does my favourite creator know they are my favourite? When was the last time I left a comment under something?"
fine i will make a request, i'm sure it's been done but i don't care.
rocky asks ryland and y/n to demonstrate how human sexuality works for eridian xenobiologists. is that much whimpering an essential part of the process question?
so I know @nothxbb has also done a “can we watch” scenario and you should read it here, but this is my take on it 😌
afab!reader x Ryland Grace, oral, p in v, silly terms used for genitals, talking aliens through what’s happening, slightly dom!ryland, Grace is a bit of a tease, one breeding kink mention, the Eridian OCs are arguably too freaky
"We would like to watch you mate."
Ryland snorts coffee out of his nose and you just sort of stare at the two Eridians in front of you. They've been making more and more visits to your dome recently as the pre-eminent xenobiologists of their species, doing everything they can to learn about the human body and how it ticks.
And they've been getting more and more personal with their requests. Which is... fine, you suppose, if you had aliens in your back yard you'd probably want to know how they operate inside and out, but it's been getting a bit crazy lately.
The other day, they asked to watch Ryland piss. He let them. You yourself were a firm no on that one.
"Mate?" Ryland manages, after he's finished wiping his espresso off of his chin. Nye, the more science-minded of the two, bobs her carapace as if nodding. Her partner in life and in science, Theroux, an obsessive question-asker, bounces in anticipation.
"Yes, Theroux and Nye want to watch Grace and the botanist mate. We know you have been mating for some time now, it is no secret across Erid. This would just be a close-up," Nye states.
Yes. 'The botanist'. That was how you introduced yourself when you got here after the several-year journey and it's sort of stuck. It's been cute to have a nickname given by aliens so you don't mind it at all.
You do mind them knowing you and Ryland are fucking like rabbits. That seems... personal.
"It would be very exciting! Theroux could write a paper on human biology and it would be incredible for human-Eridian relations! Does Grace not want human-Eridian future, question? Grace wants to see our socities break down and go to war, question!?" Theroux asks, throwing their hands in the air. Nye pats them on the back.
"No, obviously not--"
"Then it is agreed! Botanist and Grace will mate and Theroux and Nye will observe and take notes. And you will talk us through the process! Amaze amaze amaze!"
"Guys, can we discuss this between ourselves? It's a very... intimate thing for humans," you plead, as Ryland pinches the bridge of his nose. The Eridians seem to exchange a glance - hard to do for creatures with no eyeballs but they manage it - and Nye nods.
"We will give you time to speak. Thank you for your consideration."
With that, the two of them hop off of your sofa and skitter out the door, as if they've just pitched you a business idea rather than asked to watch you go at each other hammer-and-tongs.
"Let's have a fresh coffee," you suggest, and Ryland nods weakly.
The two of you don't address it for some hours after, not until you're done eating your me-burgers and the faux sun has set in the dome. He washes up, you stare out over the beach.
"I mean. We could do it."
"Do what?" he asks. It's been such a busy day, he's genuinely forgotten.
"What Nye and Theroux asked."
His hands still around the rim of the mug he's cleaning.
"Oh. I... really?"
"If you wanted. I mean, I've considered it, and I think it will be okay. If you don't mind, that is."
You know him well enough to know the little signs of his arousal. His throat bobs as he swallows, his pupils blow slightly wider.
"Only if you're sure, sweetheart."
"Positive."
"Okay. Okay, I'll let them know," he says, voice low. You swan over to him and wrap your arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his back.
"Shall we get some practice in?"
He follows you to the bedroom so quickly that he almost rolls an ankle.
They set up a little sex-pod for you. There's no other word, that's what it is: a bed, some chairs, and a ton of Eridian computers for them to make notes on.
"Nye and Theroux have lit candles to help improve 'mood'," Nye informs you both, pointing at the few little glowing lights around the bed.
"Oh. Thank you."
You pull the bedsheet tighter around you, suddenly weirdly self-conscious. The two of you are naked below the bedding you've draped around yourselves, and you suppose clothes don't really matter to echolocaton-based Eridians, but this all seems so... much.
"We can back out," Ryland whispers, his lips tickling the shell of your ear as he leans in. His hot breath makes you shiver and you shake your head.
"No, let's... let's do it. I want to."
"Excite excite excite. Please head to the human sex area," Theroux says, pointing at the bed. You have to stifle a laugh because of how silly this all is, but follow Ryland's lead when he drops the quilt to the ground and gets on the mattress.
"What position?" you ask, quietly.
"All," suggests Theroux, and Nye elbows them.
"How about just missionary for now?" Ryland chuckles, and helps you lie back. You try to concentrate only on his face and ignore the clacking of keyboards from the goddamn aliens beside you.
"Okay."
"Good?"
"Good."
Ryland lifts your arm so he can place a kiss to the pulse in your wrist. It goes a hundred miles an hour and you gasp.
"What is point of this, question?" Theroux pipes up.
"It's to stimulate your partner. Light touches can get humans excited, expecially on erogenous zones."
Oh god, he really is going to talk them through this. Which means he'll be talking you through it. He must feel your heartbeat pick up even further from where his lips nestle against your skin, because he kisses you properly then. For a moment you get lost in Ryland, the sweep of his tongue, the press of his naked body against yours...
clack-clack-clack
"Humans are very quiet when mating," Theroux states.
"Social discomfort," suggests Nye. You squeeze your eyes shut. To take your mind off of it, Ryland suddenly begins to pepper kisses down your body: one to your sternum, one to your nipple, one to your stomach, and then--
"Ry?!" you ask as he gently pulls open your legs. He looks up at you.
"What is it, what's the matter?"
"You... you're not gonna... in front of them?!"
"I was planning to," he says, with the tiniest hint of a smirk. You almost explode.
"It's not really necessary though, is it?"
He looks actually offended by that.
"It certainly is to me. What's the point of doing this if you don't come?"
"'Come', question?" echoes Nye.
"Orgasm. A great release of pleasure. It makes mating enjoyable for humans."
clack-clack-clack-clack
"And this is needed by vagina-having partner for human mating, question?"
"No," you say, as Ryland chimes in, "absolutely."
You have to listen to Ryland explain the difference in orgasm importance when it comes to genitals in humans, and all the time you can feel his hand tracing down your thigh and coming to rest on your cunt. His thumb carefully parts your folds and begins to stroke your clit, and you get wet embarrassingly fast.
"Oh, understand. What is Grace doing now, question?"
"Remember I just mentioned erogenous zones?"
"Theroux remembers."
"This is one of the most important ones for a vagina-having human. The clitoris. Fantastic for stimulation."
"Ohh, excite excite excite!"
"That's the idea," Ryland mumbles, so quietly you think that you're the only one who catches it, and just before you can tell him off for being cheeky he dives into your cunt tonuge-first.
"Fuck!" you moan, arching your back as he works at you with his mouth. An arm comes up to clamp around your waist, holding you in place so he can eat you out as the scientists watch. It's a lot. He's very good at it, too, one second fucking your hole with his tongue, the next reaching up to suck on your clit, then going all the way down to your other entrance...
You do kick him a bit, then. You both like a bit of ass play, but at this moment in time, you don’t want to explain the point of anal to the Eridians. Not today.
Not unless Ryland is the one taking it, maybe...
You're pulled back into your body and out of your small daydream as Ryland picks up the pace, and soon you're coming all over his face. You pant and whine and moan as he eat you through your orgasm, leaving you boneless and satisfied.
"Is it done now, question?" asks Theroux, confused. "Why Grace's extended appendage not been used, question?"
You glance down as Ryland gets to his knees in front of you. He's so hard that he's dripping. That's always a compliment to be honest, that he gets that turned on just from the taste of you.
"I'm about to use it,” he says, his voice gravelly, as if it's getting more and more difficult for him to remember this is meant to be a lesson of sorts. You open your arms and bring him down into your embrace, kissing him long and slow, tasting yourself on his tongue.
A beat.
"Grace and botanist taking too long..." Theroux grumbles.
"Let humans enjoy," Nye retorts. As you kiss, the sound of keyboards fill the air, the scientsits electing to take copious notes as you make out.
"I'm going to use my extended appendage now," Ryland states, and you snort in laughter.
"Are you going to put it into my wet orifice, Dr Grace?" you ask, cocking your head to the side, and it is so silly for him to be turned on by that... but you know that he is, because he loves when you call him by his title. His cock bumps against your slick cunt and out of the corner of your eye, you see Theroux slap Nye's arm.
"It sure is," you whisper to Ryland, a punishment for his earlier little quip, but he soon silences you as he slides inside with one easy thrust. You gasp, your cunt still sensitive from the orgasm he gave you, but it’s quickly overtaken by pleasure as he begins to fuck you properly.
It’s always good when you do this with Ryland, and this time is no different. He knows how you like it: long, slow, but hard. He snaps into you with rough rolls of his hips and you can hear the satisfying slap of his skin against yours.
His eyesight is shot without his glasses, but he stares down at you as if you are the centre of his universe. In response, you cross your ankles at the small of his back and drag him impossibly closer into you, so deep you practically feel his heartbeat syncing with yours.
“Why botanist do that, question?”
“To have him further inside me. Sometimes it feels better for vagina-having humans. Certainly feels better for me,” you take this question, and it makes Ryland grin smugly. You wipe it off his face by concentrating and then tightening around him, and he yelps.
“What was that noise, question?!”
“He’s getting aroused.”
“Ooh. Grace not already aroused, question?”
“More so.”
“Understand. Good time for Grace!”
“Yep,” he agrees, through gritted teeth, as he continues to keep up the pace. You kiss your smile into his shoulder.
clack-clack-clack meets slap-slap-slap, and you can tell Ryland is really having to concentrate on not coming. However, coming is the point of this, so you reach up to take his face in your hands and bring him down for a kiss. It’s messy, it’s desperate, and his hips begin to stutter as he gets closer to finishing.
“Put a baby in me while they watch,” you hum into his ear, and it’s such a weird thing to coo, but he’s gone anyway. Come floods your tender walls and the feeling of it pushes you over the edge too, cunt twitching around him as he empties.
He rolls off of you so he can tuck you in against his arm and drop post-coital kisses all over your face.
“Now is finished, question?”
“Yes, now is finished,” you confirm.
“Amaze amaze amaze! So when pebble coming, question?”
You and Ryland both stare at Theroux.
“I’m… do you think I’m pregnant now?”
“Yes. Otherwise what is point of human mating, question? Plus Eridians want human pebble. Excitement for whole planet!”
“I’m on birth control.”
“Birth… control… question?”
So you have that conversation as Ryland tries to hide his giddily amused smile. You slap him lightly on the pec to try and get him to behave, but he just grabs your hand and squeezes it instead.
“Oh. This is disappointing,” Theroux sighs, their whole carapace bobbing with the movement.
“Untrue. We have learned much about human biology. Thank you, Grace and botanist,” Nye corrects.
“Don’t mention it,” Ryland chuckles.
“Same time tomorrow, then, question?”
Ryland splutters in surprise, and all you can do is laugh.
tags: @kenstimetoshine @nerd-do-well @kiffycreative @bookerdefay @pixiebuggz @regalfirebird @go-bonkers-go-foolish @inthegalaxxy @sexyleftist @julepod @cosmicyeehaw (lmk if you wanna be added or removed!)
Summary: Barbie figures out your secret. Now you're in the real world with a ken-doll attached to your hip, and most of all, your lips.
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Tags: fluff :D they kiss!! Kind of invasion of privacy, implied arousal, sex is mentioned, a lot of pining and love confessing, ken will do anything for you, no use of y/n, tried to keep it gender neutral, this is part 2–Part 1 is linked at the top!
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Mina's notes: not many notes other than I enjoyed writing this so much and I hope you enjoy this part! I think this will be the only part but if anyone wants smut with virgin!ken I am planning on writing a fic based on that, so stay tuned!
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It's like looking into a mirror! Well, sort of.
All Ken could see was.. himself, and the pencil drawings look exactly like him! Even his body, especially his abs. He notices little notes dotted around his sketches such as:
"OMG he's SO cute!" "Seriously how does he look this good?" And cute little symbols like " >////////< " and " ⁰○⁰ " next to himself.
There's even dates on the top of the pages and if he looked from the start of the sketchbook, he could tell the exact date you had met him. Halfway through the book did your lovely, emotional sketches transition into a museum of Ken.
He couldn't even put into words how he felt. How could he ever think that you wouldn't feel the same? All you think about is him!
He grins ear to ear at the book, closing it and holding it close to his chest.
His tummy was doing that weird tingling it does whenever he thinks about you or is near you, especially right now, it feels like his whole body is on fire.
What should he do about this? Should he confront you? Should he confessing his undying love for you? Now that he knows you find him cute and also probably love him, is there much to be afraid of?
What if he gets to kiss you? Or hug you? Calm down Ken, you're getting a little rowdy... he mentally slaps himself. Just act like a normal guy would.
Ken jumps, physically jumps, when he hears the bathroom door open down the hallway, dropping your book onto your couch, him following it to make it look like he gotten comfy.
You move back into the lounge, seeing Ken has taken his place on your couch, you smile soflty before shaking your head and moving behind where hes sat. "Hey, do you know how to drink? Like.. water?"
Ken jumps, again, not expecting you to be that close. He nodded, a little too quick, before turning to look over his shoulder at you. "Oh uh, yeah, Barbie taught me."
Your eyes can't help but linger all over his face before you blinked, composing yourself. "So.. would you like some water? Or.. if you don't want water i have uhm.. I have juice? Do you know what juice is? I actually–"
And you started to ramble, your eyes anywhere but his. He watched. He admired. His heart pounded.
Fingers that belonged to you tapped along the back of the couch, something he had learnt you did when trying to focus and trying not to get distracted. The thought that he was the subject of your distractions made his insides twirl.
"You're so pretty." He swooned.
"Wh–What?" You stammered.
Both you and Ken froze, staring down at him as he stared up at you. The silence grew, comfortable or not? You couldn't decide yet.
He called you pretty, and he meant it. He's a ken, of course he meant it.
Your eyes eventually slipped over to your sketchbook and right then did you connect the dots. A wave of heat and embarrassment flooded over you.
It's Ken. Obviously he would try and find anything that gave him a hint to you liking him back. He was lucky enough that you poured your heart and soul into art.
"You looked through my sketchbook?" You swallowed, sheepish, you didn't even think about the violation of privacy, your thoughts were overwhelmed by those shiny, blue eyes of his.
"I wouldn't say looked through... i would say opened it, looked at all the pages and then closed it again." He didn't want to mentioned the part where he hugged it tight.
A sigh fell from your lips and you pinched the bridge of your nose. "That's the same–"
"You like me." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. A fact. You did like him. You were attracted to the handsome, bleach blonde ken-doll.
"I do." You agreed, dipping your head, staring at your hands.
"Does that mean we're boyfriend–girlfriend now?" "Woah–What!?" Ken winced at your reaction, not expecting such shock from you.
"Well you like me, I like you. Doesn't that mean I'm your boyfriend?" A brow on his expression raised, like it should be that simple.
You stood there and thought for a moment.
Ken, your boyfriend. That sounds like what your life is supposed to be. You want to see that dopey smile everyday. You wanted to wake up in the same bed as him. You wanted to kiss him.
Does it matter if you only met him a few weeks ago? No. If anything you were just glad you got the chance.
The sound of your name shattered you from your thoughts, bringing your attention to the doll on your couch, kneeling while you stood behind the back. Looking up at you from his place there, his eyes seemed to have a pretty shine to them.
"I guess that is usually how it works here..." you mumbled.
You fingers twitched and you couldn't help yourself. Ken's eyes widened when he felt your hand cup the back of his neck, sliding up and threading through his bleach-blonde hair.
"You're really pretty too, Ken." Your voice was a whisper.
A beat passed.
"Is it normal for my human insides to feel... warm?" He tilted his head, melting into the touch of your fingers in his hair.
A laugh escaped you, "Yep. It's what happens when you have a big fat crush on someone." You teased.
"What do i do with a crush?" He looked up at you with those puppy-dog eyes and you nearly exploded out of cuteness aggression. You swear you feel your jaw tensing.
"You kiss them." You smile, he gasps, "like i tried with Barbie when I was her boyfriend? I get to kiss you? On your lips?"
"You get to kiss me anywhere you want." A second after you said that you cringed a little, cheeks tinting pink as you realised how that sounded.
Ken however was absolutely drowning in excitement. His eyes landed on your lips, they looked soft and utterly kissable. His tummy tingled.
"Wait, wait– Ken." You spoke firmly. "We... need to set some boundaries."
"Boundaries? Like rules?" "Yup." You nodded. "Okay then..." He also nodded.
"Okay.. so if we're gonna be boyfriend and girlfriend, I need to establish that we are not having sex until we have dated for at least a month." You cupped his cheeks, making sure he was paying attention.
"What's...sex?" Oh shucks. You forgot about that part.
"Anything past kissing, making out, cuddling and showering together, basically."
"Why? Is sex a bad thing–" "Let's stop with the sex questions! Please..? I'll teach you about it when the time comes. For now, we keep it mild, okay, Ken?"
And just like that, boundaries were set.
You stepped around your couch to sit beside him. "So we're boyfriend and girlfriends?" When you agreed he fist bumped the air with a grin, making you smile.
This wouldn't be so bad.
"So... I'm gonna show you how to kiss, for reals." "For reals?" "For reals." "Yay!"
Heat easily rose to your face at how excited he was. "I'm going go be such a good boyfriend-you won't even know what to do about all the love I'm gonna giv– mfhh-"
Well that shut him up. Ken's eyes were blown wide after your hands held his cheeks, yours and his' lips locking together.
He didn't know what to do but his heart was for sure going to explode.
"Hm, just feel it–mmfh–and go with what you feel inside." You ate his surprised noises while your noses slotted perfectly against eachother, palms squeezing his
Go with what you feel inside. Simple enough, right? All he feels is heat, tingling and a weak ache down below... how to turn that into actions? He has no idea.
At least his eyes were closed, clearly enjoying it. His lips were delicate and felt so good against your own.
You let out a faint "hmh-!" when you felt his hands nervously wrap around your wrists, holding your own hands on his face as you kissed.
With someone like Ken, you expected a certain kind of romantic charm, especially with the way he easily stole your heart. In reality he was just as fidgety as you, his heart jumping and his mouth desperate against your own.
You appreciated that about him. It meant he'd eagerly be vulnerable around you. Maybe even submissive.
And as you kissed him silly on your couch, you could see yourself with him forever. Through thick and thin. Lesson through lesson.
He was thinking the exact same. From the moment he first met you and resisted telling you how much he loved you right there on that plastic beach, he wanted to give you all the loving that's possible to give.
Both of your hands laced together as the kiss seemed to deepen, when he let out a cute whine that's when you forced yourself to pull away.
Gosh his eyes are gorgeous.
"I love you, Ken, so much." A smile appeared on your face at his expression. He looked at you like you were the only person in both the real world and Barbieland.
"I love you with my entire body and and I will do everything i can to keep you away from everything bad in this world. If that includes sex then I will hit them with my fist–"
"No- Ken, that's not.." you sighed while the corner of your lips curled up. "I appreciate it."
New achievement unlocked; beach-blonde, handsome Ken-doll acquired.
”"I wouldn't say looked through... i would say opened it, looked at all the pages and then closed it again."” VERY funny
”"I love you with my entire body and and I will do everything i can to keep you away from everything bad in this world. If that includes sex then I will hit them with my fist–"” EVEN FUNNIER LMFAO
College boy Ryland gets passed around at a house party ✌️
~700 words
nsfw, alcohol/drug use (Ryland is not too intoxicated to consent), Ryland giving and receiving, bisexual Ryland Grace because I said so
Ryland bounced on Oliver’s cock on the floor of the dim living room to the dull beat of the music playing in the other room. At least he was pretty sure this was Oliver. Maybe he’d been the last guy.
“Jesus, where did you find this guy?” somebody said, awed.
“You know how freshman are, man,” Maybe-Oliver crowed, loosely holding Ryland’s hips as he languidly fucked up into him. Ryland was slightly drunk but not enough to make him sloppy; he was doing that well enough on his own. He panted and ground down, breaking the rhythm. He couldn’t help it.
Somebody grabbed his jaw and he opened automatically, tongue out, ready to receive. They shotgunned into his mouth and he coughed a bit but managed to get most of it.
“Fucking move, Charlie, it’s my turn,” a female voice demanded.
Not Oliver, then.
Ryland found himself flat on his back buried in someone new while another person held his arms over his head. He opened his eyes and forced them to focus on who was straddling him and was surprised when he recognized her. Oh. Jess. They had a class together. Her dark hair fell around her face as she rode him and Ryland never wanted her to stop.
“Dude, what's his fuckin’ name?” someone wondered.
“Who cares?”
“Don’t be a dick. I think his name’s Ryan.”
Somebody tapped his cheek. “Hey, what's your name?” they snickered, apparently finding the mystery very funny.
Ryland could only moan as Jess squeezed him with her walls.
A warm mouth closed over his nipple and sucked and Ryland whimpered, tossing his head to the side as the feeling went straight to his cock.
“Oh, he likes that,” someone said. A tongue flicked his pert nipple and whoever it was mouthed at him messily, smearing his chest with saliva.
The group in the next room was howling along to Mr. Brightside; Ryland could feel the bass through the floor.
“Jess, get off or he’s gonna come,” a guy growled.
Nonononono, Ryland thought frantically. He tried grabbing Jess’s hips but forgot someone was holding his arms. He whined piteously as he slid out of her, cock flopping wetly against his stomach and smearing slick.
“Let’s get him on the couch.”
Ryland felt himself being hauled bodily onto the couch and sat upright. He spread his legs, silently begging someone to touch him, need pounding through him like a heartbeat. He didn't have to wait long. Somebody started stroking him hard and fast and he moaned so loudly a hand clamped over his mouth. Ryland bucked his hips unhelpfully, fouling up the rhythm of the person trying to get him off.
A strong arm pushed against his abdomen to pin him in place. “What a slut,” a woman, maybe Jess, huffed. His mouth was freed so someone could kiss him and he reciprocated desperately. He was wound so tight; he could feel himself about to snap.
Then the hand on his cock disappeared and somebody laughed. Tears ran down Ryland’s face. He was so worked up that his overheated brain simply resorted to crying.
“You guys are fuckin' mean,” a female voice, definitely not Jess, snapped. She slipped her lips around Ryland and took him all the way down, her throat fluttering around him and he burst, spurting uncontrollably as she worked him expertly. Ryland’s head fell back at the intensity of it; his savior guided him to the other side and popped off when he started to squirm. She kissed his cheek and went away and Ryland languished against the cushions, breathing like he’d run a marathon.
Someone touched his shoulder. “Hey, you good, man? You done?”
Ryland crashed his lips into whoever was asking the question, pawing at them and trying to get their hands on him. They chuckled against his mouth. “Okay.”
They took him to his hands and knees on the couch and he felt a large tip start to breach him; his cock gave an interested twitch. He’d probably be hard again in a minute. The person behind him leaned over his sweaty back and whispered in his ear. “Hold on, princess.”
Tag List: @ken-dom, @avocado-writing, @pixiebuggz, @cosmicyeehaw, @eridianhearts
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Inspired by this anon + @avocado-writing in this post!!! If you like this post you gotta check that one out because oh my god it opened my third eye and I just couldn’t resist having my own spin on it!
This is just… freak nasty with hints of dumbification + Ryland asks you to put a baby in him while you peg him
There were two things Ryland loved more than anything in this world: molecular biology, and getting fucked to oblivion. Nothing brought him more joy than these two things, and right now, getting fucked was fighting for that top spot.
“F-fuuuuck,” Ryland whined as you thrusted into him. He was lying on his back as his dick kept pumping out precum all over his stomach.
You’d been edging him for a while now, not letting him cum for the fifth time the session. He was starting to babble nonsense after the third time you pulled out and didn’t let him cum, but now he was really starting to lose it.
“You love it when I fuck you, Ry? Get you so horny you can’t even think?” You teased. You knew he could barely answer you at this point.
“Uh-huh,” he moaned, “love it ‘s muchhh,” he slurred his words. His eyes were half lidded as he looked up at you, his expression frozen in pleasure.
“If only you could see yourself right now… you look so pretty for me like this.”
Ryland’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, your praise sending electric shocks all over his body. His dick twitched for what seemed like the millionth time, it was red and desperate for attention.
“Fuck me ‘fr-ever,” he mumbled and gripped the sheets underneath him. You chuckled at the state he was in, too fucked out to make any sense.
“Yeah? It feels so good you want me to fuck you forever?” Your voice was low.
Ryland nodded and opened his eyes to look at you, “want you to- oh god,” he moaned.
“What do you want, baby? Use your words.”
“Want you t-to cum inside me,” his voice was so high he was almost squealing. “Wanna have ‘yr babies,” he looked like he was on the verge of tears, practically begging.
Oh, this was new. You don’t think you ever heard him say something like this before, but it didn’t stop your body from getting excited at his words. The fact you couldn’t do either of the things he asked were irrelevant to the both if you at the moment. You leaned forward, “you wanna be full of my cum?”
Ryland moaned so loud you thought he could be heard from down the street. “S-so full! Please!”
“No one else can fuck you like this, right Ryland? Have you begging for their cum, huh?” You sped up your thrusts, earning sweet sound from the blonde man.
“Please! I- I can’t- gonna cu… gonna cum!” He whimpered, warning you that he’s dangerously close.
You wrapped your hand around his leaking dick and began pumping him, making his gasp. “Gonna put a fucking baby in you? Yeah? For taking me so well?”
He thought he might pass out, that was the hottest thing he ever heard and he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Ryland came all over the place. Moaning, whimpering, crying, it felt like he actually died and made it to heaven. He wanted his orgasm to continue forever, his body flushed with waves of pleasure he never wanted to end.
“Oh my god…” he sighed once it was over, letting you know to pull out and lie next to him. The two of you caught your breaths for a minute before speaking.
“Sorry I couldn’t… actually put a baby in you,” you joked, not knowing if Ryland was even conscious enough to respond.
He chuckled and turned his head towards you, “you made me feel like you could.”
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fine i will make a request, i'm sure it's been done but i don't care.
rocky asks ryland and y/n to demonstrate how human sexuality works for eridian xenobiologists. is that much whimpering an essential part of the process question?
so I know @nothxbb has also done a “can we watch” scenario and you should read it here, but this is my take on it 😌
afab!reader x Ryland Grace, oral, p in v, silly terms used for genitals, talking aliens through what’s happening, slightly dom!ryland, Grace is a bit of a tease, one breeding kink mention, the Eridian OCs are arguably too freaky
"We would like to watch you mate."
Ryland snorts coffee out of his nose and you just sort of stare at the two Eridians in front of you. They've been making more and more visits to your dome recently as the pre-eminent xenobiologists of their species, doing everything they can to learn about the human body and how it ticks.
And they've been getting more and more personal with their requests. Which is... fine, you suppose, if you had aliens in your back yard you'd probably want to know how they operate inside and out, but it's been getting a bit crazy lately.
The other day, they asked to watch Ryland piss. He let them. You yourself were a firm no on that one.
"Mate?" Ryland manages, after he's finished wiping his espresso off of his chin. Nye, the more science-minded of the two, bobs her carapace as if nodding. Her partner in life and in science, Theroux, an obsessive question-asker, bounces in anticipation.
"Yes, Theroux and Nye want to watch Grace and the botanist mate. We know you have been mating for some time now, it is no secret across Erid. This would just be a close-up," Nye states.
Yes. 'The botanist'. That was how you introduced yourself when you got here after the several-year journey and it's sort of stuck. It's been cute to have a nickname given by aliens so you don't mind it at all.
You do mind them knowing you and Ryland are fucking like rabbits. That seems... personal.
"It would be very exciting! Theroux could write a paper on human biology and it would be incredible for human-Eridian relations! Does Grace not want human-Eridian future, question? Grace wants to see our socities break down and go to war, question!?" Theroux asks, throwing their hands in the air. Nye pats them on the back.
"No, obviously not--"
"Then it is agreed! Botanist and Grace will mate and Theroux and Nye will observe and take notes. And you will talk us through the process! Amaze amaze amaze!"
"Guys, can we discuss this between ourselves? It's a very... intimate thing for humans," you plead, as Ryland pinches the bridge of his nose. The Eridians seem to exchange a glance - hard to do for creatures with no eyeballs but they manage it - and Nye nods.
"We will give you time to speak. Thank you for your consideration."
With that, the two of them hop off of your sofa and skitter out the door, as if they've just pitched you a business idea rather than asked to watch you go at each other hammer-and-tongs.
"Let's have a fresh coffee," you suggest, and Ryland nods weakly.
The two of you don't address it for some hours after, not until you're done eating your me-burgers and the faux sun has set in the dome. He washes up, you stare out over the beach.
"I mean. We could do it."
"Do what?" he asks. It's been such a busy day, he's genuinely forgotten.
"What Nye and Theroux asked."
His hands still around the rim of the mug he's cleaning.
"Oh. I... really?"
"If you wanted. I mean, I've considered it, and I think it will be okay. If you don't mind, that is."
You know him well enough to know the little signs of his arousal. His throat bobs as he swallows, his pupils blow slightly wider.
"Only if you're sure, sweetheart."
"Positive."
"Okay. Okay, I'll let them know," he says, voice low. You swan over to him and wrap your arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his back.
"Shall we get some practice in?"
He follows you to the bedroom so quickly that he almost rolls an ankle.
They set up a little sex-pod for you. There's no other word, that's what it is: a bed, some chairs, and a ton of Eridian computers for them to make notes on.
"Nye and Theroux have lit candles to help improve 'mood'," Nye informs you both, pointing at the few little glowing lights around the bed.
"Oh. Thank you."
You pull the bedsheet tighter around you, suddenly weirdly self-conscious. The two of you are naked below the bedding you've draped around yourselves, and you suppose clothes don't really matter to echolocaton-based Eridians, but this all seems so... much.
"We can back out," Ryland whispers, his lips tickling the shell of your ear as he leans in. His hot breath makes you shiver and you shake your head.
"No, let's... let's do it. I want to."
"Excite excite excite. Please head to the human sex area," Theroux says, pointing at the bed. You have to stifle a laugh because of how silly this all is, but follow Ryland's lead when he drops the quilt to the ground and gets on the mattress.
"What position?" you ask, quietly.
"All," suggests Theroux, and Nye elbows them.
"How about just missionary for now?" Ryland chuckles, and helps you lie back. You try to concentrate only on his face and ignore the clacking of keyboards from the goddamn aliens beside you.
"Okay."
"Good?"
"Good."
Ryland lifts your arm so he can place a kiss to the pulse in your wrist. It goes a hundred miles an hour and you gasp.
"What is point of this, question?" Theroux pipes up.
"It's to stimulate your partner. Light touches can get humans excited, expecially on erogenous zones."
Oh god, he really is going to talk them through this. Which means he'll be talking you through it. He must feel your heartbeat pick up even further from where his lips nestle against your skin, because he kisses you properly then. For a moment you get lost in Ryland, the sweep of his tongue, the press of his naked body against yours...
clack-clack-clack
"Humans are very quiet when mating," Theroux states.
"Social discomfort," suggests Nye. You squeeze your eyes shut. To take your mind off of it, Ryland suddenly begins to pepper kisses down your body: one to your sternum, one to your nipple, one to your stomach, and then--
"Ry?!" you ask as he gently pulls open your legs. He looks up at you.
"What is it, what's the matter?"
"You... you're not gonna... in front of them?!"
"I was planning to," he says, with the tiniest hint of a smirk. You almost explode.
"It's not really necessary though, is it?"
He looks actually offended by that.
"It certainly is to me. What's the point of doing this if you don't come?"
"'Come', question?" echoes Nye.
"Orgasm. A great release of pleasure. It makes mating enjoyable for humans."
clack-clack-clack-clack
"And this is needed by vagina-having partner for human mating, question?"
"No," you say, as Ryland chimes in, "absolutely."
You have to listen to Ryland explain the difference in orgasm importance when it comes to genitals in humans, and all the time you can feel his hand tracing down your thigh and coming to rest on your cunt. His thumb carefully parts your folds and begins to stroke your clit, and you get wet embarrassingly fast.
"Oh, understand. What is Grace doing now, question?"
"Remember I just mentioned erogenous zones?"
"Theroux remembers."
"This is one of the most important ones for a vagina-having human. The clitoris. Fantastic for stimulation."
"Ohh, excite excite excite!"
"That's the idea," Ryland mumbles, so quietly you think that you're the only one who catches it, and just before you can tell him off for being cheeky he dives into your cunt tonuge-first.
"Fuck!" you moan, arching your back as he works at you with his mouth. An arm comes up to clamp around your waist, holding you in place so he can eat you out as the scientists watch. It's a lot. He's very good at it, too, one second fucking your hole with his tongue, the next reaching up to suck on your clit, then going all the way down to your other entrance...
You do kick him a bit, then. You both like a bit of ass play, but at this moment in time, you don’t want to explain the point of anal to the Eridians. Not today.
Not unless Ryland is the one taking it, maybe...
You're pulled back into your body and out of your small daydream as Ryland picks up the pace, and soon you're coming all over his face. You pant and whine and moan as he eat you through your orgasm, leaving you boneless and satisfied.
"Is it done now, question?" asks Theroux, confused. "Why Grace's extended appendage not been used, question?"
You glance down as Ryland gets to his knees in front of you. He's so hard that he's dripping. That's always a compliment to be honest, that he gets that turned on just from the taste of you.
"I'm about to use it,” he says, his voice gravelly, as if it's getting more and more difficult for him to remember this is meant to be a lesson of sorts. You open your arms and bring him down into your embrace, kissing him long and slow, tasting yourself on his tongue.
A beat.
"Grace and botanist taking too long..." Theroux grumbles.
"Let humans enjoy," Nye retorts. As you kiss, the sound of keyboards fill the air, the scientsits electing to take copious notes as you make out.
"I'm going to use my extended appendage now," Ryland states, and you snort in laughter.
"Are you going to put it into my wet orifice, Dr Grace?" you ask, cocking your head to the side, and it is so silly for him to be turned on by that... but you know that he is, because he loves when you call him by his title. His cock bumps against your slick cunt and out of the corner of your eye, you see Theroux slap Nye's arm.
"It sure is," you whisper to Ryland, a punishment for his earlier little quip, but he soon silences you as he slides inside with one easy thrust. You gasp, your cunt still sensitive from the orgasm he gave you, but it’s quickly overtaken by pleasure as he begins to fuck you properly.
It’s always good when you do this with Ryland, and this time is no different. He knows how you like it: long, slow, but hard. He snaps into you with rough rolls of his hips and you can hear the satisfying slap of his skin against yours.
His eyesight is shot without his glasses, but he stares down at you as if you are the centre of his universe. In response, you cross your ankles at the small of his back and drag him impossibly closer into you, so deep you practically feel his heartbeat syncing with yours.
“Why botanist do that, question?”
“To have him further inside me. Sometimes it feels better for vagina-having humans. Certainly feels better for me,” you take this question, and it makes Ryland grin smugly. You wipe it off his face by concentrating and then tightening around him, and he yelps.
“What was that noise, question?!”
“He’s getting aroused.”
“Ooh. Grace not already aroused, question?”
“More so.”
“Understand. Good time for Grace!”
“Yep,” he agrees, through gritted teeth, as he continues to keep up the pace. You kiss your smile into his shoulder.
clack-clack-clack meets slap-slap-slap, and you can tell Ryland is really having to concentrate on not coming. However, coming is the point of this, so you reach up to take his face in your hands and bring him down for a kiss. It’s messy, it’s desperate, and his hips begin to stutter as he gets closer to finishing.
“Put a baby in me while they watch,” you hum into his ear, and it’s such a weird thing to coo, but he’s gone anyway. Come floods your tender walls and the feeling of it pushes you over the edge too, cunt twitching around him as he empties.
He rolls off of you so he can tuck you in against his arm and drop post-coital kisses all over your face.
“Now is finished, question?”
“Yes, now is finished,” you confirm.
“Amaze amaze amaze! So when pebble coming, question?”
You and Ryland both stare at Theroux.
“I’m… do you think I’m pregnant now?”
“Yes. Otherwise what is point of human mating, question? Plus Eridians want human pebble. Excitement for whole planet!”
“I’m on birth control.”
“Birth… control… question?”
So you have that conversation as Ryland tries to hide his giddily amused smile. You slap him lightly on the pec to try and get him to behave, but he just grabs your hand and squeezes it instead.
“Oh. This is disappointing,” Theroux sighs, their whole carapace bobbing with the movement.
“Untrue. We have learned much about human biology. Thank you, Grace and botanist,” Nye corrects.
“Don’t mention it,” Ryland chuckles.
“Same time tomorrow, then, question?”
Ryland splutters in surprise, and all you can do is laugh.
tags: @kenstimetoshine @nerd-do-well @kiffycreative @bookerdefay @pixiebuggz @regalfirebird @go-bonkers-go-foolish @inthegalaxxy @sexyleftist @julepod @cosmicyeehaw (lmk if you wanna be added or removed!)
You know Ryland listens to “dancing on my own” and cries into his glass of straight vodka on scrambled reader’s wedding night send tumblr post
avo. avo i need you to know this is the first thing i saw when i woke up this morning. i rolled over, turned off my alarm, opened tumblr before i'd even put on my glasses, and squinted at this ask in AGONY and DESPAIR.
do we think Colt took him out for drinks that night? Like, maybe Colt invited him to visit him on set, since he knew Ryland was free after being fired/getting disinvited from whatever East Coast academic conference, and he knows Ryland would never say anything.......but also he can put two and two together and figure out that maybe this isn't going to be the Best night of Ryland's life. for whatever reason. (bonus points for Ryland doing drunken miserable karaoke. which he will NEVER let Colt mention again.)
either that or Ryland is just at home alone 😭 and has to go into work the next day for some kind of teacher training WILDLY hungover
(also I'm absolutely adding this to the playlist, I can't believe it wasn't there already! putting it back to back with We Can't Be Friends 💔)
YES sad drunk karaoke where the SCREAMS the lyrics as he sobs, and everyone in the bar is just staring but nobody says anything bc this man is. Clearly going through Something.
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Thank you @avocado-writing! I wanted to write some Healy/reader smut, didn't have any ideas, and much like Gimli: I asked for one prompt and they gave me three. This is the first one.
Healy/reader; implied off-screen March/reader; possibly hinted at if you squint Healymarch; explicit; about 2k words
Reader is undescribed/ungendered, but uses “clit” for anatomy
Content notes: Office sex, revenge sex, rough sex
Healy’s muttering to himself when he gets back in. Grumbling, really. He’s a grumbler.
The Nice Guys have been doing well. There’s an office now. Sure, it’s in a shitty little building on a side street, but it’s an office. They even hired you as an assistant to take calls, keep files, so on and so forth.
And it’s a good job. They pay you all right, and you have a very regular schedule. They don’t expect you to work overtime or to take your work home. They also don’t care what you wear to work, or much else, as long as you show up.
All right, there are some potential risks, working for a pair of PIs. But honestly, it doesn’t worry you too much. The one time a person of interest showed up at the office and threatened you, you told Healy and March as soon as they came in. They looked at each other, and back at you, promised they’d deal with it, and left. When they came back, March had a bloody nose and Healy had a suspicious stain on his shirtsleeve, but they just smiled and told you it was no longer a problem. And it wasn’t.
Today you had been mostly alone in the office, assembling some research March had brought you, a list of names and addresses he needs to make sense of later. The phone has been quiet, and you’re just putting things in a sensible order, which leaves your mind free to wander, and it goes to the only real potential problem with your job. And it’s not a real problem, exactly. Or, it won’t be once you solve the dilemma.
You’re pretty sure they both have crushes on you.
And you aren’t exactly sure what to do about it.
But now Healy comes in grumbling, and you look up, putting your concerns aside.
“You okay, boss?” you say.
“Great,” he snaps, then sighs. “Sorry,” he adds. He shucks his jacket and tries to put it on the coat rack, but it falls onto the floor in a blue leather heap. “Goddammit. Does nothing work right?” he demands, picking it up again.
“Yeah, you definitely sound great. What’s going on?” you ask, closing the folder.
“Can March not go two days without doing something to piss me off?” he demands, and his jacket falls on the floor again. “Fuck.”
“Okay, to be fair,” you say, coming around the desk to pick up his jacket, “this part’s not his fault.” You look in the jacket, and see the loop to hang it up is loose on one side, flapping uselessly. “The little fabric thingy to hang it up broke. Let me fix it. What did he do?”
“Does it matter?” he demands, as you put the jacket on your desk. “It’s always something, isn’t it? And no matter what I do I’ll never piss him off the same way. He’ll just whine about it and then forget five minutes later. Like a puppy.” He shakes his head. “Just once I’d like to get under his goddamn skin.”
You don’t say anything as you stand at your desk, getting out the little emergency sewing kit you keep there to reattach buttons and so on, and start stitching the loop inside his jacket.
“Just once,” he mutters, his voice a low little growl.
“There,” you say, and come back around to hang it up on the hook. “Good as new.”
And then you turn to look at him, and he’s watching you. And for a moment, his eyes are sharp. Hot.
“Mr. Healy?” you say.
He blinks, then clears his throat, and shakes his head. “Uh, yeah. Thanks. For fixing it.” He looks away. “Yeah. Thanks. I’m going to mine and March’s office. So. Yeah.” He turns to go into the back room.
“Mr. Healy,” you say then, and he looks back at you.
You think of how often they’ve each lingered at your desk to talk to you. How Healy always asks how you are each morning. How March has started to ask you about dinner plans a few times, then quickly changed the subject.
You think of the stain on Healy’s shirt, March’s bloody nose.
And maybe it’s stupid. But you think also of how he was watching you, just now.
And you cross from the coat rack to where he’s standing. You stretch up and lean in as if to kiss him, and you hear his breath catch.
But then you stop, inches from his lips. Your hands are on his chest, feeling the softness and his heartbeat under his Hawaiian shirt.
“What if I know how to get under his skin?” you ask, and your words brush against his lips.
He lets out one rough breath, and his hands find your waist. They flex there for a moment, once, twice, like he’s trying to decide something.
And then he pushes you back, and you think he might be pushing you away, except he follows. Suddenly he lifts you as easily as a doll, and your ass lands squarely on the desk, knocking aside your files and your neat message book that you keep by the phone.
His mouth is on yours, hard, demanding, except then he pulls back to look at you, a question in his eyes.
And you answer the question with another kiss, pulling him to you, making him gasp and then groan into your mouth. You can feel the rumble of his voice through his chest as he presses into you. His hands find the fly of your pants, fumbles for a moment, then yanks them down, catching your underwear along. You have to tilt a little awkwardly for him to take them off fully, and the zipper scrapes your thigh, and you moan. He lets them fall to the ground.
But his hands, for all the urgency, are gentler on your skin, sliding down your hips with a fluttering touch, then sliding back up along the sensitive insides of your thighs until he finds the place where they meet, and he slides his fingers against the hardness there. You close your eyes a moment.
“No,” he says then, his voice low, husky. “No. Don’t close your eyes.”
You open them again, as he pulls his hands away to open the fly of his own pants, pushing them down just enough to free his cock. You reach for him, touching him briefly and making him let out a hiss between his teeth before he pulls your hands away to rest on his belly. You push his shirt up, feeling the rough hair underneath, all that softness.
“Don’t close your eyes,” he says again,asking this time instead of demanding, and you do not. You don’t close them as he takes a step closer, using his bulk to part your knees further. You don’t close them as his hands grip your thighs, spreading them.
You don’t close your eyes as he pushes into you. Instead you watch his face. The grizzled beard framing his soft jaw, as his lips part to release a ragged breath. His own blue eyes, half-closing in pleasure, as his thick cock pushes into you, feeling how tight you are, how wet you are, as your heat closes in around him.
“Shit,” he says, breathlessly, as his hips thud into yours, shuddering because even now he’s trying to hold back, trying not to hurt you. But he’s there, hot and thick inside of you, giving you a moment to adjust to the stretch of him. You are so full, so impossibly full, and you can feel the thud of his heartbeat, can smell his clean sweat and the fragrance of March’s cigarettes clinging to his shirt.
And you don’t close your eyes as you look at him again, still half-sitting up. “Fuck me,” you say, voice wavering from the feeling of him. “Don’t hold back. Please.”
“Fuck,” he says, but he can’t resist, not any longer. And he draws back and starts to move, fast and hard, his cock stroking every inch inside of you, places you didn’t even know could be touched. His fingers sink into your hips, and you can feel the strength of his hands—hands that can hurt and kill and crush, but now just keep you anchored to him, to the desk, to the world while he pistons his hips, slamming into you again, again.
You feel him moving, but then his thumb slides between the two of you, finding your clit, clumsy at first, then stroking it easily until you let out a thin, pleading sound. And now you can’t keep your eyes open. You close them against this onslaught of sensation, against the feeling of him pounding in you, his thumb rubbing against you on and on, relentlessly giving you what you need.
And when you come you cry out again, the sound ringing off the office walls, and you feel him let out a sound at the feeling of you clenching on him, again and again. You almost collapse back on the desk—but his hands are there again, trembling, helping you lay back a moment before he starts moving again.
You thought he’d been fucking you hard before. But now, with you on your back, he’s fast, almost brutal. He fucks like he’s trying to take something from you. He fucks like he’s angry, and he is, or he was, and you hear him let out another low sound that makes you shiver, his thrusts jerking you back on the desk, again and again. And you force your eyes open to look at him againt, bent over you, hands braced on either side of you on the desk, your legs spread wide around his waist. The sight of that alone is enough to make you come again, crying out, your hand slamming out and knocking the phone headset off its rotary base.
And that, the sound of your orgasm, the crash of the phone, is enough for him. He comes with a choked noise, with your name on his lips. He comes slamming into you, spilling his heat deep inside of you.
He lets out a few breaths, bowed over you still, his big shoulders heaving. For a moment there is no sound but your shared breathing, and the faint hum of the dial tone somewhere near the floor.
And then he straightens up, pulling out of you.
“You okay?” he says, his voice thick and husky with spent need, and his hands come up to your face. “I didn’t hurt you?”
“I’m fine,” you assure him. You reach up to touch his stubbled cheek. “You okay?”
“Y-yeah,” he said. He clears his throat, then does up his fly, and goes to get your pants. “I…yeah.” He hands the pants out to you, and you take them.
You get off the desk to put them back on. He stands there, a little awkwardly.
“Do, uh, do you need help?” he asks uncertainly.
“No,” you say, “I’ve been putting pants on myself since I was four. I got this.”
He lets out an awkward laugh, but his hand still hovers in the air, reaching for you. “Listen,” he says, but stops. “Uh. Well. You’re okay? You’re okay.”
“I’m great,” you assure him, and then you come over to kiss his cheek. “I promise.”
“Right,” he says. He hesitates, lingering a little longer, then swallows, nods, and goes into the back office.
You tidy up the office. Hang up the phone and put it back, and find all your dropped papers. And then you go to sit down at your desk, a little disheveled maybe, but that’s all right.
The dilemma you’d worried about is long gone. Who knew all you needed to get things started was an easy revenge fuck on your desk? That would set things in motion. And yes, sometime later you’ll need a nice talk with both of them, but you aren’t worried. Not now, anyway.
You hear footsteps outside the office, and the familiar sound of March lighting up a cigarette, and you smile to yourself. Because he’s going to come in, and see clear as day that Healy has already fucked you. And that’s all the encouragement he’ll need.
