This was a bad idea. A very, very, very bad idea. What could go wrong? An unidentified and untrustworthy space object flying right at Mary. Your Mary! She doesn't even have shields for Pete's sake!
"yeah— I mean, it hit us once and it didn't do anything. If it wanted to blast. It would have by now, me—", he looked up, through his glasses, finger pointing at you, "and you, would be having a conversation with a dead— dog or something."
You backed away from the small circle of a window to glance at him. The constant floating still not registering in your mind as you bump into a nearby table, hand grabbing the red ropes tied by none other than Grace.
"still—", your palm laid flat against the table. "It could be— anything! What if they are sending poisonous gas to kill us— or— or— some type of chemical so they can knock us out and cut us up and— and study us", you tried to reason.
"well, all they are gonna find is uncooked ramen and alot of drugs in our system", Ryland replied back. The red suit now tied around him. Helmet in hand as he put it on. His voice now muffled, "it can't be that bad", he shrugged.
You maneuvered towards the control panel. Buckling yourself in, your gaze landing on Ryland for a second before the door closed. The beeping of the pressure reducing in that center now echoing around Mary before stopping.
"Ryland, are you ready?", you asked. A second later, the reply came through his intercom, "yeah." You sighed as you pressed the button to open the hatch. It slowly opened as you watched it through the cameras.
Ryland slowly poking his head out, your eyes were about to look over the placement of the travelling object before— "nope. Can't do this", the voice bloomed. "Ryland—" "woAH—!"
Was the last thing you heard before seeing his figure get launched out of the hatch. No control over his movement before the connecter stopped him from traveling out of safe length. But the pull made him sling shot against the side of the ship.
"Ryland, are you okay?", nothing. Did he pass out? That was too much force. "Ryland?", omg, did he hit his head? "Ryland,do you copy?", Are his ribs broken? What if his suit had a rip—
"I'm okay— m'fine", he lifted his hand, a thumbs up. Of course.
After a few seconds, he used his own force to launch himself away from the ship and catch the slow object traveling for the fifth time..
The hatch finally closed. Beeping of the pressure stabilizing. You unhooked yourself from the seat before using the ropes to reach the door. It finally slid open, "this thing is surprisingly light—"
The words are immediately cut off by your actions. Your arms, wrapping around him. This is the first time you two had been this close, physically. You could feel the initial reaction, stiffening. Muscles hardening. Your arms just wrapped around his neck. The warmth of his body against yours reminding you that he is alive— he is alive.
You finally pulled back and that's when you realized the wetness against your skin. Tears. You used the back of your hand to wipe them, one hand to wipe your nose before sniffling, "I got so— worried", you said out in the air. Your voice heavy with weight.
After a second, you feel a hand on your waist. Your eyes raising when you wipe under them to see him maneuver slightly to look at you, "I'm fine. It was nothing", he assured. That damn smile on his lips.
The moment was stuck before Mary decided to interrupt, "Blip G detected." Oh, not again !
a/n: if I'm feeling like procrastinating later, might conjure up smut next part.
warnings: sexual fantasies, semi-exhibitionism, masturbation
click.
ryland watched as the key in his hand turned and the lock gave way. pushing the door open, he released a sigh he didn't know he was holding. the past 9 hours had been brutal. dealing with overly energetic kids, colleague drama, class fights, and a particularly tedious issue involving the gym coach being caught with the english teacher. setting his briefcase down, he could feel the weight of the day bear heavy on his shoulders.
when he first started teaching, he couldn't cope with the sheer contrast his life now consisted of. weeks spent in his private study, publishing research papers and debating the smartest of men and women now dimmed into classrooms full of children, where the most intellectual wisdom he imparted was that deer did not, in fact, lay eggs.
but time passed, and with it did his resistance. he quickly learned that children were smarter than people gave them credit for. and teaching in itself was a joy - because witnessing the moment their young faces lit up with curiosity gave him all that he could live for.
he padded across the shared apartment, rich with photos of you both, and decorations he no doubt would have been unable to find if it weren't for you. and speak of the devil, there you were. making tea in the kitchen as calmly as if you weren't the beauty that had been plaguing his mind 24/7 for the past year. his heart jumped as he inhaled the sight of you in deep, soul soothing breaths. the last rays of husky sunlight were illuminating your silhouette in an ethereal glow, your beautiful hair shining like a beacon. you still had the tiredness of the day in your eyes, and your pretty self was adorned in sleep shorts and a skimpy tank top. as soon as you saw ryland you gave him a soft smile, and he was sure he could die peacefully that instant.
"long day?"
your delicious voice cut through his train of thoughts. "mhm. same for you i expect?", he replied.
you sighed. "well, it was unique. there's only so many times one mixes up 'fun' and 'cool' and ends up saying 'fu fu' to their boss."
ryland let out a hard laugh before quickly trying to shape his face into an apologetic grimace. only you could do this to him, pull him out of his dread and into a light comfort filled with the easy naturality that he always found in your presence. you smiled in embarrassment, handing him a cup of tea, which he accepted gratefully.
"wanna watch a movie? i really need to procrastinate", he proposed, trying to delay the horde of papers to correct for as long as possible. "sure", you replied with a chuckle that made his stomach (and the tea inside it) swoop.
the both of you shuffled into the dining room and ryland plopped himself into the cosy sofa. carefully placing his cup on a coaster, he looked up to see a sight that would have definitely made him drop his tea had he not placed it down just then.
you were bent down, on all fours, trying to find the remote that had slipped your fingers. your shorts had ridden up, putting your perfect ass on full display for him. your toes were curled up and the fabric of your shorts pressed on your pussy so tight he could almost make out-
fuck.
immediately he could sense the rush of blood to his cock, stirring up in his jeans. adjusting himself just in time for you to get up, he smiled at the triumphant look on your face and the lost remote in your hands. you sauntered over to him and sat down right beside his thigh, so close he could feel the heat radiating towards him. his brain scuttled to remember the second law of thermodynamics (the total entropy of an isolated system can never decrease) just to distract himself from picturing you on his lap, making yourself comfortable such that that tight fabric enveloped around your pussy was directly atop his clothed dick- oops, too late.
by the time he was done fantasising, you had already picked out a movie and pressed play. it went by well enough, occasionally interrupted by your snide remarks about the dialogue and his astonishment at the blatant scientific inaccuracies.
at the one and half hour mark, he felt the droop of your head on his shoulder. looking over, he saw your sleeping face - a mesmerising canvas of peace. you looked so pretty like this, your lips parted and your cheek smushed; but perhaps the most enticing of the scene was the fact that you were resting on his body. his. nobody else's. just his.
the movie played in the background as he stared at you, trying to mesmerise the patterns of your face. the way your eyelashes fluttered ever so slightly in your sleep, the slight shift of your nostrils every time you inhaled, the glint of residual gloss on your plump lips. he wished he could stay like this forever. but when the credits finally came into his peripheral view, he built up the courage to wake you and end this moment of serenity.
"hey, wake up. you should go to bed, hun"
your forehead crinkled for a split second before your eyes drowsily blinked twice. you pushed yourself off and tried to rub the sleep out. "did you just call me hun?", you muttered, stifling a yawn.
"huh?"
"nevermind. i'm going to bed, rye. don't stay up too late", you said, giving him a soft pat on the cheek and walking off with a stretch.
god, he was in love with you. that slight contact itself had him seeing stars.
he sighed, closing the tv off and heading to his bedroom. "what a perfect way to end the day", he thought sarcastically, "more work".
sitting down at his study, he grudgingly pulled out the intimidating pile of unchecked test papers. the first one had a big circle around the question, and a note written next to it in kid's handwriting mentioning that the sentence structure of the question was incorrect. out of pure muscle memory, his eyes darted to the name at the top. abby. he smiled. he really should've known by now.
the next half hour passed by lazily enough. he had just finished grading 2 papers and decided it was time enough to get a snack from the fridge. standing up, he stretched and walked to the door.
as his hand made contact with the cool metal doorknob, he suddenly heard a noise that glued him to the floor.
"fuck, rye-"
his heart jumped to his throat. this wasn't an exclamation of pain, that much he could make out from the breathy, strained voice. oh god. oh god.
and then came the moans.
you were moaning - soft, sweet moans that went straight to his already half-hard cock. even the walls couldn't stifle your needy whines. the restless shuffle of sheets followed, and then came the buzzing.
the unmistakeable buzzing of a vibrator.
an overwhelming warmth trickled up his spine, pressing even harder on his "gentleman's equipment". fuck, were you getting off? and did you say his fucking name? god, he could pass out right this instant if it wasn't for the merciless torture of his hard dick pushing against his fly, begging for attention. your attention.
please god, please let her be getting off to me. please.
as much as he would die to touch himself right there and then, to the dizzying melody of your whimpers; he couldn't let himself do that. not yet. that crossed a boundary he didn't want to violate, because horny whipped pathetic man aside - he was a gentleman.
but the involuntary humping of his crotch against the door made only one word ring out in his lust filled brain.
pervert.
so all he could do was sit down, clutch his hands behind himself and watch as his dick desperately tried to hump the air in search of friction;
all the while your pretty, loud moans reverberated in the air.
ahhhh i was reading project hail mary and there was no way i couldn't write something for this loveable nerd! part 2 maybe with him joining reader? ;)
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