Haley • 28 • she/her • 18+ only cause I be profen all over on main • I draw (nightcall plays) and badly write things sometimes • music, anime, video games and whatever else I'm hyper fixated on 🫶 formerly v-i-d-e-n-o-i-r & colorguardian18
i don't think you guys understand the VISCERAL bodily reaction I have whenever I see Holland March grace my screen. I'm genuinely wet and shaking whenever I see someone upload something on here that is remotely related to The Nice Guys. I think Ryan Gosling was his best looking with that fuckass porno stache (along with him as Lars Lindstrom) I've never wanted something so bad in my entire life. I need it more than I need oxygen. I need Holland March to put a cigarette out on my bum. I'm not even joking. I want to lick the back of his head and live there like lice. I have GOT to get him pregnant. Genuinely tweaking at the thought of that pathetic bisexual DILF.
Holland March if you're out there, I love you. You know where home is.
you go through Ken’s browsing history and are surprised at what you find. 18+, Ken x gn!reader.
“I’m going for a run!” Ken shouts as he does his stretches at the front door. He’s in a bright pink tracksuit, far too warm for the climate outside, but he insisted he had to complete ‘the look’.
“Okay, honey. Are you wearing sunscreen?”
You hear an ‘oop’, the sound of a bottle being opened, and a wet slap as he applies it liberally.
“Uh, okay, now I’m going for a run! I’ll get you a coffee on the way back!”
“You’re a doll. I mean— well, you know what I mean,” you say as he heads out the front door.
It’s been… cute, living with Ken. After adjusting to the whole “hey I’m your childhood toy come to life and now I’m in love with you” thing, anyway. He’d do literally anything for you and that sort of dogged devotion takes some getting used to. In fact, you kinda miss him when he steps out now. Maybe you’re falling into folie a deux or whatever they call it. Folie a doll, perhaps.
You’re not dating… but you’re not not dating. It’s hard to explain.
Then you realise he’s left the laptop open.
It’s your laptop, really, but you’re mostly on your work one so he gets free rein of it. Curiosity suddenly overwhelms you. Is it bad etiquette to snoop on his browsing history? Maybe, but once again: it’s your laptop. You wanna see what your literal boy toy gets up to when you’re at work.
You sit at the table where it’s been abandoned and open up the history tab. At first it’s just the same stuff you’ve seen him looking at as you pass by every day: men’s fashion, horse compilation tiktoks, part time job vacancies involving horses…
sexy videos
That one makes you pause. Sexy videos, huh? So far Ken has been pretty, well, well-behaved about his physical needs, but you assume as he makes the transition from plastic to human that he must be having them.
Maybe you wouldn’t mind if he talked to you about that. Maybe you wouldn’t mind giving him a hand.
The search term took him to your favourite porn site, of course, and it looks like he spent some time there.
kissing
Only a guy like Ken would go on a porn site to look up kissing. You snort your amusement and keep scrolling.
couples kissing
kissing first time
loving couple
real loving couple
You feel your face soften into a smile. Oh. Of course that would be the kind of stuff he’d be into. All of his attempts at romance so far have been exceptionally traditional: bouquets of roses and candle-lit baths drawn ready when you get home from work. Unprompted massages. He wrote you a love letter once, and even though his spelling wasn’t the best, you still keep it in your bedside drawer with your other precious tchotchkes.
Tender sex couple love
“I love you” sex video
Seems like he found a couple he was into. You click on them and they’re both pretty long and intense, in a sweet way. Amateur stuff but there’s a lot of gazing into each other’s eyes and whispered affections. It’s cute. From the runtime bar at the bottom of the video, it looks like he sat through the whole of them.
submissive man praise
Your eyebrows skyrocket. That’s a turn. You didn’t know he knew that word.
blond submissive man praise
bleach blond submissive man praise
You can imagine him getting more frustrated as he tried to narrow down his search and can’t hide a grin. Looks like he got lucky with the results as there are many videos matching his descriptor on this particular site. He’s watched quite a few of them, too. Men who look uncannily like him on their knees as their dominant tells them how good they are at giving oral. You feel your cheeks get hot as you imagine doing that with him.
Does he want you to do that with him?
You’re so caught up in the scene before you that you don’t hear him open the door again.
“Forgot my water b—“
“Oh, yeah, baby boy, you’re doing so well…”
He freezes. You freeze. The people on the screen don’t freeze, and the man keeps sticking his tongue in his partner’s hole, much to their delight.
“My secret sexy videos,” whispers Ken in horror. When you aren’t angry, he doesn’t know how to react. So he just stands there.
daydreaming about doing your nails w lars.. (based on something I said in @pixiebuggz’s comments) :)
The sharp scent of acetone was defused by the fan propped up behind you. You were sitting at the tiny dining table- bottles of nail polish, acetone, and cotton balls spread out before you
Usually you'd paint your nails outside since Lars didn't like the smell but the snow was piled thick outside, confining you indoors. Luckily he didn't seem to mind, even coming to sit on the chair opposite of you to watch despite his nose scrunching up in disagreement.
"Do you want me to do yours?" you ask after finishing the first coat of polish, looking up to meet his unblinking gaze.
"Hm?"
"Your nails- do you want me to do yours too?"
He smiles politely, blinking hard once, then twice.
"Oh no it’s.. it’s fine," his reply seems genuine.. but you could hear the hesitance in his tone.
Usually when Lars wants something- for you to watch him chop wood or to take you out to the lake- he had no problem making it known. Yet sometimes, when he wanted something that was unfamiliar to him, he’d struggle.
He was good at pretending he was fine, but you’d gotten good at knowing when he’s not.
After another layer of color and a final clear coat you hold your hand out, admiring your work.
"This color matches your eyes," you say, showing him your nails.
They were a beautiful stormy blue- if you held them to his face you’re sure they’d be a picture perfect match. You had picked it specifically for him after all.
Lars is quiet for a moment longer, eyes going over each nail before looking at the other colors you had out and picking up a bottle you'd left off to the side.
"This one matches yours."
"If you want to try it on, you can," you fein nonchalance, tidying up your supplies, "I can take it off right after if you decide you don't like it."
You were sure the slight twitch of your lips gave your excitment away but Lars seemed indifferent to it anyway, giving you a single firm nod as a go ahead.
He only flinches a little when you slip your hand against his.
His hands are big and warm. His palms are just slightly slick with sweat and you feel the small raised calluses he'd gotten from chopping enough wood to last you two and Karin and Gus for the snowy days ahead.
You go through the same steps for his manicure you'd done with yours. It's easier now that you can use your dominant hand for everything- still, you go slow, trying not to get anything on his skin.
He sits perfectly still for you, wordlessly giving you his hand when you need it. He hasn't stopped staring at his nails, now shiny with the shade of your eye color.
"Pretty," he whispers as you twist the cap back on the top coat.
"You like them?"
"Mhm, thank you,” he smiles, wide and genuine- you can’t help but laugh and smile back.
summary: You and Ryland have been flirting for weeks, but neither of you have made a move. You're about to change that.
ryland grace x afab!reader
word count: ~2k
tags: smut/nsfw (18+), oral (reader receiving), p in v sex, misuse of the Hail Mary's pilot chair
crossposted to AO3
for @cosmicyeehaw ❤️
You found Ryland in the command room, studying a navigation monitor.
“Thought I might find you here,” you said as you pulled yourself up from the ladder. Ryland did a double take before refocusing on the monitor, its readout dancing across the lenses of his glasses.
“Ah, I made it too easy for you,” he said, voice gruff with forced nonchalance. “Next time I’ll… go out on the hull.” He winced. You knew how much he disliked spacewalks.
You smiled as you approached. “Wow, am I that offputting?” You and Ryland - it had been distressingly easy to switch to first names - had been bantering for weeks, circling each other, tacitly daring the other to make the first move. You knew he liked you; the feeling was mutual.
Ryland blanched. He looked back at the console and flipped through random menus. “Definitely not. If anything you’re… on-putting.”
“Such a way with words. Do you mind if I swoon?”
“Hah. There’s a reason I taught science and not English.” He shut down the screen, then woke it up again. He leaned an arm on the pilot’s chair, playing at casual. “What’s up?”
You felt a little guilty for cornering him in the command room, the part of the ship you were most comfortable with. As the Hail Mary’s pilot, you were intimately familiar with every display, switch, and indicator light. Ryland, not so much, although you suspected his nerves had less to do with where he was and more who he was talking to.
“Nothing. I just wanted to see you,” you said.
Ryland managed to look scared and pleased at the same time. He half-smiled and glanced away before his gaze found its way back to you.
“Can I kiss you?”
Ryland’s eyes went wide. Your heart was beating jerkily and you hoped you looked more composed than you felt. You’d decided you weren’t going to wait any longer.
He had the audacity to look over his shoulder. “Me?” he asked.
You gave him a pointed look while keeping your expression soft. You were the only two people on the ship. “Yes.”
Ryland’s tongue brushed his bottom lip. “I…” His eyes flicked to your lips, then back up. He swallowed. “Y-yeah, go for it.”
You closed the distance, rocking up onto your toes to reach him. You kissed him twice, then pulled back when he didn’t respond.
You searched his gaze, wondering if you'd gotten it wrong when suddenly he was kissing you, eager but gentle, and any doubts you had vanished. You took his face in your hands, tilting your head to deepen the contact, and he groaned as the kisses became more heated and you pushed your body against his. You tried to give each other as much privacy as possible, but you’d seen glimpses of what he had going on under that flight suit and you were so ready to get your hands on him.
To your delight, he nipped at you as his hands came around your waist and you responded in kind with a playful touch of your teeth. You tilted your head back and Ryland fell to kissing your neck, pulling breathless sighs from you. You slid your fingers into the hair at the back of his head as he greedily ravished you, and you were embarrassingly turned on just from having his lips on you like this. Your hips jumped against his and Ryland grunted, breath hot against your damp skin. His tongue laved across the hollow of your throat.
“Ryland?” you asked unsteadily.
“Hm?” he replied between sucking marks on your neck.
“How far are we going?”
“As far as you’ll let me,” he murmured, his stubble scraping the soft skin of your jaw.
You kissed his cheek. “Want to misuse mission equipment with me?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he huffed, his eyes warm and trusting. You led him to the pilot’s seat, and when you tried unzipping your flight suit his hand came up to cover yours. “Can I?”
“Of course.”
He kissed you as he pulled the zipper down to your waist, then helped push it over your shoulders so you could slip your arms out. You shimmied the flight suit down your legs and kicked it away before stripping off your underwear, leaving only your t-shirt. Ryland, looking slightly dazed, went for the zipper at his collar, but you stopped him with a gentle touch. “Not yet,” you said; he made no complaint. You sat in the pilot’s chair and Ryland dropped to his knees in front of you, the floor giving a dull clang at the impact. Clever boy, you thought.
“Pilot detected.” Displays cascaded to life around you, lighting up the command room. “Please engage restraint.”
“Override,” you said, eyes locked with Ryland’s.
“Override accepted,” the Hail Mary confirmed. Ryland was breathing harder than normal, and you were enjoying the sight of him kneeling between your knees. He put a large hand on your thigh, its warmth and weight sending want spiraling through you. He looked at you searchingly, as if still not fully believing this was allowed.
Wanting to coax him forward, you traced a fingertip along the underside of his jaw. “Please,” you said softly. Ryland’s lips parted as he drew in a shaky breath, and you swore you could see his pupils dilate by the glow of the instrument panels. He tenderly kissed the inside of your thigh, causing you to tremble. Ryland trailed kisses higher up your thigh until he was nearly where you wanted him. He hovered, so close his breath skated over your heated center. Your impatience got the better of you. You grabbed him by the back of his head and forced his mouth onto you; Ryland groaned into your wet folds and began lapping at you eagerly.
“Oh fuck, Ryland,” you gasped.
“Invalid operation.”
You shook with silent laughter, putting a hand over your mouth as Ryland hung his head and heaved a frustrated sigh.
“Mary, mute command inputs,” he ordered.
“Muting command inputs,” the ship replied dutifully.
Ryland picked up where he left off, and it was better than anything you’d imagined while touching yourself as quietly as you could so you wouldn’t wake your crewmate sleeping a few feet away. It had been so long, even longer if you counted being with someone you cared for as much as you did Ryland. You tangled your hands in his hair as his mouth continued its gentle introduction. While you appreciated him being considerate, desire was flaring through you, demanding more.
“Baby, please,” you whined, bucking your hips. Ryland buried his nose in your pubic hair and moaned, the muffled sound wrecking you further. He grabbed your flanks and started eating you out in earnest, and you were glad the ship’s microphone had been disabled because there was no way it would tolerate the sounds you were making now. You held Ryland close and your fingers found the metal arms of his glasses, forgotten amidst the rapid culmination of so much pent-up yearning. You could have said something, but you honestly found it pretty sexy he was still wearing them. He sucked lightly on your clit and you arched against him.
You could feel how wet he was making you as he worked you thoroughly open, his scruff dragging deliciously against your sensitive folds. He pushed your leg up, encouraging it over the armrest to give him more access, and curled his arm around your thigh so he could leverage his mouth harder against you. You fought for breath as Ryland rubbed his tongue back and forth over your clit before licking into you, and you felt the first telltale stirrings deep between your hips. His face was messy with your slick and he seemed perfectly blissed out giving you head like he’d been doing it for years.
“You’re so good, don’t stop,” you panted. He hastily sucked on his middle finger, then pushed it inside you and began pumping as he latched back onto you. Your head hit the back of the seat, your mouth falling open at how unbelievably good it felt. You mindlessly chased each swipe of his tongue, each surge of his jaw as his beautifully thick finger dragged against your walls. Ryland added a second and you were helpless to fight back a sob at the swelling pressure coaxed higher by his deeply thrusting fingers and hot, urgent mouth.
He looked up at you over the top of his slick-coated glasses, which had slid down his nose, and the sight had you clenching around his fingers. You could barely think, but he seemed to know what you needed. Ryland wrapped his lips around your swollen clit and suckled, fucking you with his fingers, and you came with a sharp cry, clamping rhythmically on his fingers as he pulsed them against that sensitive spot inside you. You felt your whole body light up as your orgasm broke through you, and Ryland didn't let up until you finished grinding against his face.
You looked at him, pleasant shivers chasing through you; Ryland licked his fingers without breaking eye contact. Your walls fluttered weakly in response. You took off his glasses and carefully laid them aside, then pounced, taking you both to the floor. You and Ryland fought with his flight suit in your joint haste to undress him, the process almost comically frantic as limbs became tangled in clothing, neither of you able to keep your lips off each other long enough to give the problem an opportunity to sort itself out. After a good deal of fumbling, you were naked and making out on the floor of the control room. You couldn’t keep your hands off him, sliding your palms over his chest, his arms, his thighs, and Ryland’s hands were tangled in your hair as he pulled you down to kiss you again and again, leaving you dizzy.
“I want-” he groaned, then interrupted himself by seizing your lips in a searing kiss.
“I know,” you said. You lifted yourself off him a little as he lined himself up and you sank down more quickly than you intended, but the slight burn that accompanied the stretch tipped the sensation into exquisite. Ryland threw his head back and it thunked against the deck as he dug his fingers into your hips.
“Goodness gracious,” he gritted out, and the absurdity of his habitual self-censoring applied to this context made you laugh. He was absolutely gorgeous laid out beneath you, all lean muscle and flushed from his cheeks to his chest.
You rolled your hips and he responded instantly, rising and falling at your direction. Ryland sighed, moving strongly and deliberately as if savoring being buried in your warmth. You wanted him to enjoy it, wanted him to be ruined for any experience that didn't have him deep between your legs. You put a hand on his chest and he understood, letting you slide up and down on his cock while he laid still and took it, and you’d never seen anything prettier than him trying not to squirm as you rode him.
Ryland tapped your thigh in warning. “I’m gonna come,” he grunted. He started thrusting urgently, hitting deep inside you, and you whimpered and yielded to his desperate pace and dimly considered you were also being ruined for anything that didn’t involve Ryland squeezing your hips and knocking the breath out of you. He snapped his hips faster, breath hitching.
“C’mon, Ry,” you growled, and with a punched-out groan he spilled inside you, his thrusts losing any sense of rhythm. He came down slowly, continuing to rock into you until his legs gave out and he flopped onto the deck. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as the sound of labored breathing echoed in the confined metal space.
Ryland cracked a fond half smile. “That’s what I’ve been missing?” he asked, a little breathless. He brushed his fingertips down the side of your face and cupped your cheek.
“Worth the wait?” you returned, lowering yourself to lay on top of him. Ryland wrapped his arms around you and stroked your back, sending warmth unfurling in your chest.
“Yes.” He squeezed you gently, and neither of you moved for a long time.
