Ok hear me out
Rocky finds readers childhood stuffy on their side of the bed and Ryland dosnt know about them either
Anywho Rocky and Ryland ask lots of questions about said stuffie on Erid
-saturn
I say this as I’m laying in my bed with my childhood stuffy
"Barnaby The Blueberry?"
Ryland grace x reader (FLUFF)
summary: see request above!
yaps!: had sooo much fun writing this, hope you dont mind the fact i used my actual stuffies name for this HAHAHA!! mhwamhwa hope you like this as mush as i did!! listened to "Summertime" by My Chemical Romance, "Bulong" by December Avenue, and "Hearken" by Yaelokre!
The atmosphere inside the dome on Erid was a carefully curated slice of Earth, but it was impossible to keep the dust of a distant world entirely at bay. The air always smelled faintly of ozone and the spicy, metallic tang of Eridian tea. Inside the "humble home" shared by you and Ryland Grace, the lighting was currently set to a soft, pre-dawn amber, meant to ease you both into the day.
Ryland was already up, hunched over a workbench in the corner, scribbling frantically on a whiteboard. You, however, were still buried under a mountain of specialized, heavy-duty blankets.
You were also not alone.
A heavy, rhythmic thud-clack, thud-clack echoed across the floorboards. Rocky was on a mission. The Eridian engineer had become a permanent fixture in your domestic life, often wandering into your sleeping quarters to "inspect" the human habitat or, more often than not, to ask a thousand questions about things that humans did that made absolutely no sense to him.
Rocky scuttled toward your side of the bed. You were currently in the kitchen, having slipped out to grab a glass of water, leaving your side of the blankets rummaged and messy.
Rocky’s central carapace rotated, scanning the pillows. His form twitched. There, tucked deep into the crease of the mattress, was something he had never seen before. It was small. It was furry. It had the color of a blueberry, two glass-bead eyes and a very worn, long, black spoon-shaped nose.
“Grace! Question!” Rocky’s voice synthesizer chirped from the wall unit, sounding unusually high-pitched with curiosity. “There is a new organism in the insulation pile! Has no carapace! Has no pulse! Why it hiding?”
Ryland jumped, his marker streaking a long, accidental line across his physics equations. “What? A new organism? Rocky, we’ve lived here for years, there aren't any—"
He trailed off as he walked over to the bed. You walked back into the room at that exact moment, frozen in the doorway with your water glass halfway to your mouth.
Rocky was currently using one of his delicate, stone-like claws to poke at a very old, very loved, stuffed koala named Barnaby The Blueberry.
Ryland blinked. He looked at the koala, then at you, then back at the koala. A slow, delighted grin started to spread across his face.
"[name]," Ryland said, his voice dripping with playful curiosity. "What is that? And more importantly, why have I lived with you on two different planets and never seen it?"
You felt the heat rush to your cheeks, a deep crimson that Ryland always found endearing. You walked over, gently scooping Barnaby out of Rocky’s inquisitive reach. "It’s... it’s just my stuffie. Barnaby The Blueberry. He was in my emergency kit from the Hail Mary. I haven't pulled him out in a long time."
Rocky tilted his entire body, his five-legged frame shifting in a way that signaled deep confusion. “Stuff-ie? Is this a biological subspecies? It has no internal heat. It does not leak energy. Is it a parasite that feeds on sleep?”
"No, Rocky," you laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed and holding the koala to your chest. Being shorter than Ryland, you felt particularly small in that moment, sandwiched between a brilliant scientist and a brilliant alien, both of whom were looking at a plush toy like it was the most complex mystery in the galaxy.
Ryland sat down next to you, the mattress dipping under his weight. He reached out, his fingers brushing the fabric of your shirt—right over the spot where your "Rocky Scar" resided. It was a grounding touch, a reminder of the life you’d built together out of the wreckage of the mission.
"So, Barnaby," Ryland said, his eyes twinkling. "Does Barnaby have a PhD? Or is he more of a theoretical physicist?"
"He’s a koala, Ryland. He specializes in being soft," you retorted, though you couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips.
“Soft is not specialty,” Rocky pulsed, his voice synthesizer vibrating with a rhythmic trill. “Soft is vulnerability. Why you keep a vulnerable creature in bed? Does it guard? Does it watch for vacuum leaks with glass eyes?”
You looked at Rocky’s figure, trying to find the words to explain one of the most irrational, beautiful parts of being human.
"It’s for comfort, Rocky," you explained softly. "When humans are young—and sometimes when we're older—we like to hold things that are soft. It makes us feel safe. It’s like... it’s like a surrogate for the hive. For the cluster."
Rocky went silent for a moment, his clock-eye rotating slowly. “Comfort. Rocky understand comfort. Rocky hot, you cold, Rocky insulate you. But koala-thing not hot. Does not provide thermal stability.”
"It's not that kind of warmth," Ryland chimed in, his voice losing its teasing edge. He looked at you, his expression softening into something so tender it made your heart ache. "It’s emotional warmth, Rocky. Humans have this weird thing where we attach memories and feelings to inanimate objects. It’s like a physical anchor to a happy thought."
Ryland reached out and took Barnaby from you, turning the toy over in his hands. He noticed the worn fur, the slight tear in the ear that had been stitched back together years ago. "How long have you had him?"
"Since I was four," you whispered. "He’s been through every move, every lab accident, and apparently, a trip across the Tau Ceti system."
“Four years?” Rocky asked.
"No, Rocky. Since I was a pebble," you corrected.
Rocky’s synthesizer let out a series of musical whistles. “A pebble relic! An artifact! Why did hide it, Question? It a secret technology? Does Grace not know of koala-tech?”
"I didn't hide it," you pouted, leaning your head against Ryland's shoulder. "I just... I thought it was a bit silly. A grown adult, a scientist, sleeping with a stuffed koala on an alien planet."
Ryland wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. "[name], I spent six months talking to a camera and naming a spider-bot 'Rocky' before I actually met him. 'Silly' is our baseline. Besides," he leaned down, kissing the top of your head, "I think it’s brave. Bringing a piece of your childhood home across the stars? That’s some serious dedication to morale."
“Rocky wish to inspect texture,” Rocky announced.
You handed Barnaby to Rocky. The Eridian was incredibly gentle, using the tips of his claws to lightly brush the velvet ears. “Is... very textured. It feels like moss in lower caves, but without dampness. Is pleasant. Rocky understand now. It is a portable cluster-member.”
Rocky handed the rabbit back to you, his carapace radiating a steady, happy heat. “Grace is noisy and leaks heat. The koala is quiet and stays soft. You have a good cluster, Question.”
"I really do," you agreed, looking from the stone alien to the messy-haired man beside you.
Ryland chuckled, nudging you with his shoulder. "Does this mean I have to share the bed with Barnaby now? Is there a hierarchy? Do I have to ask the koala for permission to change the thermostat?"
"Barnaby says the thermostat stays exactly where it is," you joked.
---
The rest of the morning was spent in a rare, lazy sprawl. Ryland abandoned his whiteboard, and Rocky decided that "inspecting" the rabbit required him to stay on the bed with you both.
The three of you—plus Barnaby—piled onto the oversized mattress. Rocky sat at the foot, his heavy limbs tucked in, providing a grounding weight that always helped your anxiety. Ryland was a warm, solid presence behind you, his hand resting on your side, his thumb tracing the jagged line of the scar that matched his own.
The light in the dome shifted to a deeper, more comfortable gold.
“Question?” Rocky’s voice was low, almost a whisper in the quiet room.
“Yeah, Rocky?”
“Does koala require sleep-sounds? I can provide the resonance. It will help the rabbit’s internal systems stay calm.”
You felt a lump in your throat at the sheer sweetness of the offer. "I think Barnaby would love that, Rocky."
The Eridian began to thrum. It wasn't a song, but a deep, rhythmic vibration that resonated through the bed and into your very bones. It was the sound Eridians made to comfort their young, a biological lullaby that signaled total safety.
Ryland’s breathing slowed as he drifted back toward sleep, his grip on you tightening just a fraction. You tucked Barnaby under your chin, feeling the soft fur against your skin and the radiating heat of your alien friend at your feet.
In the vast, terrifying emptiness of the universe, you had managed to find a home. It was a home built on science, survival, and shared scars, but today, it was also built on the simple, fluffy importance of a childhood rabbit.
“Good hive,” Rocky trilled one last time before the room fell into a peaceful, humming silence. “Very good hive.”
i would and WILL fight anyone for my barnaby....👁👁
WHAT DO WE FEEL ABOUT THIS GNG hope u had fun reading!! hugs n kisses 💚💚👎👎
