[Description: a looping bouncy animation of grace and Rocky from project hail mary. Grace throws himself onto rocky for a hug, smiling and nuzzling his face to the top of Rocky's xenonite covered carapace. Rocky brings a claw up to ruffle Grace's hair and grace throws himself even more on top of rocky, rocky wrapping his arms around grace. End description.]
summary: youβve seen a lot during your rebellion days & now with the New Republicβ¦ but working with a mandalorian may just send you into the wildest tailspin yet
word count: 11.9k (iβm sorry)
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. MAJOR MOVIE SPOILERS β οΈ takes place before & during the events of the film, reader has a backstory & family but no physical description, light use of gendered language, slight annoyance to friends to lovers, pining & yearning, budding romance, threats & moments of violence/threat of kidnapping, flying as a love language, reader has instances of drinking and smoking, competency kink, light voice kink, slightly jealous!reader, spicy times in the cockpit (helmet stays on), dry humping, unprotected p in v, one moment of spit, creampie, protective and soft!Din
a/n: soβ¦ hi lmao I call this my βletβs daydream about being in the new movieβ fic or aka my attempt at plugging us into the storyline bcs itβs what we deserve lol big thanks to my dear @babynueva for always supporting my din delulu ily bb! Also this is my first official fic of the year & knowing itβs for Din means so much - so thank you for being here β‘ [divider credit & thanks to the ever amazing @saradika-graphics]
When a mandalorian first strides into base camp on Adelphi, you think youβre seeing things.
The sun bounces off his armor drawing all eyes. Itβs like his ancient armor proudly beams of its power and striking force. The mysterious Mandalorian walks with intent, a steady gait that dares anyone to cross him. You canβt help but stare at the mysterious warrior.
βIs heβ¦ imperial?β Someone whispers in the mess hall and makeshift cantina.
βNope, heβs working with us now.β Teva answers simply.
You didnβt believe it. But apparently itβs true.
βHeβs set to be an independent operative, but know he is working for and with us.β The colonelβs words then officially etch the truth in stone.
Mando comes around basecamp like a ghost. Barely staying put for you to register his presence, yet the whispers about him grow.
βI heard he took out a whole imperial squadron and a Moff too.β Dyana, your closest friend, tells you enthusiastic to catch up on all the rumors.
Then Ward calls for you, and you miss out on any other gossip Dyana and the others had.
βIβll be heading to Coruscant this week to meet with a few higher ups and senatorsβ¦ I need you to do all the debriefs with Mando while Iβm away.
Itβs like a rancor suddenly barreled into you.
βWait, me?β You stupidly question confused, and Ward shoots you a look, raised eyebrows and all.
βDo you think youβre not capable of handling this, ranger?β
βNo, colonel.β You quickly reply, and she nods.
βGood, thatβs what I thought.β
When you see her off, it must be obvious how hesitant you still are. Her sturdy hand gives your shoulder a reassuring pat.
βDonβt worry. Heβs not as scary as everyone thinks he is.β Ward reassures, but it doesnβt soothe you much.
Especially when the day arrives and you find yourself waiting for him.
Just like before, the mandalorian saunters in and your focus is immediately drawn to him. But then, it gets knocked out of orbit when you find heβs not alone.
A tiny green creature waddles in beside him, childishly blinking at every sight. Why is a child with the mandalorian?
βWhereβs Ward?β A rich striking voice startles you. Of course the terrifying warrior would sound this intimidating.
βWent to Coruscant for a meeting.β You reply partly stunned youβre actually talking to him.
βAnd you are?β But then mandalorian questions, sharp and distrustful, and it pisses you off. Heβs the newcomer here, and he decides to question you?
βIβm the person youβre stuck with for your debrief and mission logs unfortunately.β Your voice whips out sharp.
He doesnβt say anything.
βWhat about Teva?β He counters again, and you want to scream. Whatβs this guyβs problem?
βOut on a mission,β your reply is sharper, bladed with annoyance.
βIf you want you can personally contact Ward and explain why Iβm not satisfactory enough for your debrief. Iβm sure sheβd love that.β Then the defiant reply escapes you faster than you can stop it.
Itβs as if the whole cantina mess hall heard you because it becomes deathly silent.
The mandalorian simply stares you down with his unflinching helmet. Then the warrior turns and strides out not saying another word.
βI think you pissed him off.β Wolf snickers breaking the stillness.
A sense of dread looms as you realize you mightβve truly just gotten yourself into a mountain load of trouble.
Ward calls that night, and you knew it was coming.
βWhy do you want to start a fight with the mandalorian?β She asks calmly over the comms.
βIβm not! He started it!β You canβt help but childishly counter. You even further explain how demanding and untrusting he was.
The colonel sighs.
βYou have to understandβ¦ His people donβt trust easily. And for good reason. Try to be the one to play nice here.β
You want to be petty and say he needs to as well, but you canβt argue with Ward.
βDo the whole debrief drunk.β Zeb jokes about it with you the next day, and you scoff.
But by the time sunset arrives you start getting tempted to get a drink because maybe Mando isnβt showing up.
Until he does. And again heβs not alone. The strange but sweet little creature continues waddling alongside Mando.
Itβs awkward as hell when he approaches your table. The tension lingers thick from yesterday prickling across your skin in the worst way.
You donβt even know if you should say anything
βMweh?β A surprisingly soft little noise floats through the tension and you turn towards it. You blink down to find the mysterious little being staring up at you with sweet wide eyes.
With curious claws, the baby reaches for the loth cat charm dangling off your belt, the one of many trinkets your niece has given you.
Melted by the sight, you grin and scoot closer. Then you unclasp the charm for the baby to examine it more.
βYou like it? Itβs cute right?β
The little one agrees with a chirp sounding so endearing.
Something softly clicks. If a creature so tiny and innocent as this baby confidently travels with the mandalorian, then he couldn't be that much of an ass.
Someone sighs. Then settling back into your seat, you find the mandalorian seated across from you. The baby hops up to sit beside him. Yet his eager eyes remain happily taken with your charm.
βThat imp base on Hoth had no leads.β He speaks first.
Youβre stunned.
Your gut urges you to not make a big deal about this, to simply now see him as another coworker.
So you nod and casually plug in the info on your datapad.
βHoth was a long shot, but we appreciate you going.β You even add that in.
You knew of a few pilots who served during the Hoth raid. Itβs an unforgiving planet, takes a lot of guts to investigate that icy fortress.
βWhatβs the next order?β Mando asks firm, all business, just like Ward had told you.
You slide him a bounty chip containing info on a possible military officer who could be running a smuggling ring. The mandalorian doesnβt say anything else, simply takes the card and stands up.
βCome on, kid.β All he does is address the baby, not even sparing you a second glance.
Cute and so politely, the kid hands back your loth cat with a noise that feels like a thank you.
βYouβre welcome, little cutie,β you tell him warmly.
Once the pair are out of sight, you sigh exhausted, relieved, and sprawl out on the table glad itβs over. Someone barks a laugh, and you arenβt even embarrassed about it.
You canβt wait till this is over.
Itβs already been a week and a half of being grounded, doing these debriefs with Mando. You miss being in the skies. But all that hope of getting back in the clouds gets squashed.
βI need to negotiate a few more issues with Senator Organaβ¦ can you continue to do the debrief?β It isnβt much of a question but more of an order from Ward.
So you meet with Mando for the rest of the week and into the next. Itβs cordial, barely speaking for more than ten minutes with each other.
You try to be friendly, make a joke about the weather, but he just silently stares at you, obviously annoyed.
And it pisses you off all over again.
But you think of the adorable little baby who eagerly tags along with the terrifying hunter. The kid sweetly waves, and you wave back. You started bringing treats after his guardian chided him for eating some of yours.
The annoyed sigh Mando gave when you brought more snacks to share was worth it.
This time you decided to bring something else along with you.
It was the first charm your sister gave you when you became a pilot. A tradition her daughter, your niece, now does with you.
βLook!β You eagerly hold up the plush creature that makes the babyβs eyes go wide.
With adorable tiny grabby hands, he reaches for it and you happily hand it over.
You grin pleased seeing how pleased the kid coos.
βWhatβs your name?β The sudden question from Mando surprises you.
A bit stunned, you give it to him.
He nods solemnly, repeating it. Your heart does a strange flip hearing his deep voice say your name.
βThis is Grogu.β He then introduces the kid who chimes in hearing his name.
βNice to meet you, Grogu.β You excitedly greet the kid.
Then you turn to Groguβs guardian. This solemn but striking mandalorian now has you curious to who he is. Your mind thinks about the rumors that have spread about him.
βAnd you? Whatβs your name?β You ask politely, but immediately you can almost hear Dyana screaming at you. Sheβs become the new expert on Mandalorian customs.
βTheyβre private people,β she had told you, confirming what Ward had said. βItβs probably why not a lot of people know about him, much less his name.β
βIβm sorry, forgive me.β You stammer quickly. βYou donβt have to give it.β
A moment passes, and you worry youβve unraveled this tentative truce or whatever it is.
βDinβ¦ Din Djarin.β His full name. Itβs lovely.
βDinβ¦β you repeat it.
βItβs nice to meet you too.β And you mean that.
Mando, Din, nods, and you think itβs worth the few weeks being out of the skies.
When Din and Grogu leave you realize the kid still holds onto your plush charm.
βCome on kid, give it back.β Din urges noticing too.
βNo itβs okay. He can keep it. Give it back to me next time.β You grin at the baby, and Grogu giggles pleased at the answer.
βWhat do you say, kid?β
Grogu chirps a sweet thanks and waddles away content with the plushie in his arms.
The next day, as promised, he brings it back. But you exchange another charm with him. This time itβs a cute cloud with a sweet face. Eager for the new trinket, Grogu ditches the plushie and you laugh.
Work then follows suit. Din explains on the intel heβs slowly gaining on the imp official.
βTaking a bit longer than expected.β Din gruffly admits.
βDonβt worry. Rodents like him know how to hide. Itβs not your fault. Then again thatβs probably an insult to rodents.β Youβve been trying to stay professional, channel your inner composed Colonel Ward. But the old rebel pilot comes out.
Suddenly, a chuckle follows.
Din laughed.
You swear you misheard it. But the way Grogu giggles agreeing with his protector, you know you heard correctly.
βA fair statement.β Din agrees.
And you grin back at him. A golden victorious feeling bubbles in your chest.
Watching the pair leave, you find youβre excited to see them again.
The rest of the debriefs go smoother than ever. You bring new charms for Grogu to play with, and Din seems to settle in more.
βYou have a lot of those.β He even comments a bit dry when you exchange another new charm with Grogu. This time itβs a fuzzy bantha.
βManaged to gather a small collection.β You explain.
βReallyβ¦ couldnβt tell.β Din deadpans.
Thatβs when you realized he just joked with you.
βThink you might like those two,β Zeb teases the next time he drops by the mess hall.
βItβs called being civil.β You stubbornly reply while messing with the holopad, and the Lasat warrior barks a laugh.
βCivil? Yeah sure.β He teases further.
You stay stubbornly quiet.
βDonβt worryβ¦ Theyβve a pain in my ass too.β Zeb huffs, and it does soothe your annoyance.
Especially now that something is festered in you, a sort of curious itch to learn more about Din Djarin.
βI heardβ¦ he really did blow up an entire imperial base. Thatβs how Teva found him.β Dyana is happy to spill more gossip about him.
βHeβs quiet, doesnβt talk much. So I doubt heβd say anything even if he did.β You mutter.
βDoes he really keep a pet around?β Dyana presses for any new info.
The word βpetβ sounds harsh.
βHeβs more like the kidβs guardian.β The word βparentβ instead wants to slip out especially after youβve seen Dinβs fatherly watch over the baby.
βOh thatβs even more interesting! Why didnβt you tell me this earlier?!β Dyana shrieks.
βYouβve been busy.β You half lie.
You could argue that itβs because you want to protect Dinβs trust and donβt want to disturb that. But the truth is, you donβt want to share this little secret bond youβve cultivated with him.
You however rapidly kick those thoughts away.
Ward will be back sometime this week. Your brief time with the Mandalorian would be over soon.
Except that time comes sooner than expected.
The next morning Colonel Ward arrives, an early return. Disappointment arrives just as fast. You knew this was only a temporary thing.
Trying not to feel annoyed, you now work on your x-wing. Deep under the hull, you refuel trying just to keep your mind focused here.
βDidnβt know you were a mechanic.β Suddenly, the rich voice of a certain mandalorian echoes in the hanger.
You scramble out from under the ship confused if you heard right.
But standing off to the side are indeed Din and Grogu.
βWhat? Thought I just did paper work and worked as an assistant?β You tease.
Din chuckles, and it sinks into the glowing sunlight coating the hanger in its glory.
βYouβre looking at one of the New Republicβs best pilots!β Dyana.
She perks up emerging from the other side of the ship, and you shoot a glare her way not even knowing where she came from.
βA pilot?β Din questions, curious.
His helmet tilts towards you.
βSometimes,β you shrug.
βAnd I wouldnβt say best.β You weakly laugh then glower at Dyana again. She simply beams innocently back at you.
βOne day you gotta tell him about Endor. Though Iβm sure you have plenty of fight stories to share too, Mando!β
You want to strangle her.
βYou fought at Endor?β Din asks, helmet fully facing you and voice faintly awed.
It all makes your skin feel heated and tight.
All you can do is shrug again.
Endor seems like so long ago now. You were so much younger then. Wild and ready to sacrifice it all for the sake of protecting everything you loved. A small secret corner of your heart aches for those days of when you flew with such fire.
βWellβ¦ gotta go! Nice to finally meet you both!β Dyana nods to Din and smiles at the baby before scurrying away.
A traitor in the flesh fleeing if you ever did see one.
βSoβ¦an x-wing pilot.β Din comments, still watching you. His curious and impressed tone ignites a strange sensation in your chest that threatens to consume you.
βOn good days I am.β You again shrug with a half smile.
βSo what was Endor like?β He inquires, and youβre surprised heβs curious about that.
βDonβt know, never went on planetβ¦ kinda was busy flying around.β
You donβt even need to see his face to know heβs giving you a silent unamused stare. He must not think your joke is as funny as you do.
A surprised giggle does come though. Both you and Din discover Grogu effortlessly climbing up onto the wing of the ship.
βKid.β Din chides.
βHow did you get up there so fast?β You laugh amused at the sight of this tiny creature waddling on top of your x-wing.
Din sighs, truly parental.
βI take it that you fly?β You ask him yet keeping your gaze on Grogu to make sure he stays safe.
βI do.β Din answers, confident.
βMust be why heβs so curious and comfortable around ships. Itβs good when kids get to experience being in the air.β You think of your niece who eagerly tries to convince you to fly her around.
βMy niece is the same way.β You reveal.
Din hums a noise, acknowledging heβs listening.
βIs she the reason why you have all those charms?β He asks in a tone softer than youβve ever heard.
βExcuse you, they are medals of honor.β You jokingly try to sound offended.
βWith you I wouldnβt be surprised.β He replies deadpan, and you snicker.
βBut yeahβ¦ sheβs the one who gives them to me.β You explain how it was your sister who first started giving you those charms to decorate your x-wing.
They were to remind you to come home safe.
βI was ordered not to come home unless I brought the charms back safe and sound.β You repeat the same words your sister told you.
A soft breeze enters the hanger bringing in a welcoming cooling touch. But itβs then you realize how close youβre now standing next to Din. You didnβt even notice when you or him moved closer to each other.
βThatβsβ¦ sweet.β His voice carries a tenderness that sneaks under your ribs and sinks in deep.
You turn and find heβs already looking at you.
Under Dinβs gaze, itβs like youβre caught in a tractor beam unable to speak or move.
Dangerous thoughts have already begun clouding your mind, and they all connect back to this man. Like how youβve noticed how broad his shoulders look, and how strong he is helping move crates around the base. Whatβs worse is youβve begun wondering what this mandalorian looks like under his helm.
Groguβs little giggle finally draws your attention away. Currently he peeks inside the cockpit through the window.
βSo I take it this is your ship?β Din asks.
βNo, I stole it.β You quip back.
βSure you did.β His dry reply makes you snicker.
βItβs how I got to fight at Endor.β You jest, stealing a quick glance at Din. Of course he shakes his head unamused.
βThought you didnβt see Endor.β He uses your dry joke back at you, and you canβt help it.
You playfully elbow him.
Another little giggle comes. Glancing back to the ship, Grogu now peers over from the wingβs edge grinning at you and Din.
βLittle troublemaker, are you going to be a pilot one day?β You smile at Grogu.
βMweh!β He squeals.
βI think thatβs a yes,β you tell Din proudly.
βNo.β Din answers back firmly.
βItβs okay Iβll teach you one day,β you counter sweetly, and the baby giggles more.
βNo.β Din repeats again firmer.
A small cluster of pilots approach. Their laughter and conversation fill the air. Guess this moment is over.
βStill need to see Wardβ¦ shouldnβt keep her waiting.β Din is smooth about making his exit.
Quickly Grogu jumps into his arms, and you bid the duo goodbye for now.
You havenβt been in the air for long, but it feels like youβre floating now.
The moments you see the pair become like scattered stars.
Months settle in, and a routine follows. You sometimes see Din in the mess hall cantina when you return from a mission. Discussing with the colonel, all you can simply do is give your boys quick smiles.
Other times Din stops by the hanger where you linger now more than ever hoping he drops by. You and him talk about work, missions, the various planets visited.
You want to ask what got him to work for the new republic, but you donβt want to disturb whatever is growing between you and him.
βItβs budding love.β Dyana sagely declares one evening at the cantina, and Zeb agrees.
βItβs not!β You screech over a drink.
βI donβt think Mando has said more than five words to me, yet I see him talking to you so much.β Another pilot chimes in.
βHe talks to Zeb the most!β You argue back. The two of them are often paired up on missions now. You try not to get annoyed by it.
βNot as much as you, kid.β Zeb rebuttals.
βDonβt think we havenβt seen the way he hangs around the hanger for you.β Sash Ketter snickers, and it only ignites the discussion once again.
You dismiss all their words as attempts trying to rile you up.
Because you donβt want to face the truth. You long for your chats with Din, even just to see him for a moment and play with Grogu.
Itβs just an awful infatuation. Thatβs it.
Your small vacation break now approaching may be more of a blessing than you realize. Itβll hopefully give you time to clear your head.
βIβm heading home to visit family. Iβll be sure to bring back something good.β You tell Din the next time you run into him outside the cantina.
βThereβs no need. Justβ¦ be safe.β Din nods.
His gentle words carry you the entire flight home.
The brief week away provides peaceful moments of relaxation. While you enjoy the time spent with your sisterβs family, you long to return to Adelphi.
βSo, what did you get me this time?β You ask your niece the day before youβre set to head back.
βI got youβ¦ THIS!β She proudly raises up an odd creature. You canβt even tell what it is.
βShe made it herself.β Your sister whispers, and your eyes go wide.
βWhat?! Why didnβt you tell me we have an artist in this family now?!β You cry excitedly scooping up your niece in your arms and tickle her with glee as she squeaks excitedly.
βActually before I goβ¦ Do you think you can help me make one too?β You ask her and your niece's eyes light up.
With eager hands she gathers all her supplies to deposit them on the table ready to craft.
βSoβ¦ are you going to tell me who youβre making this for?β Your sister asks slightly suspiciously as you add little puffballs to your monster creation.
βWhat if I just want my charm to have a friend, huh?β You deflect.
βYeah sure.β Sheβs not convinced but thankfully doesnβt press any further.
As hard as it is saying goodbye to her and your niece, youβre thankful to finally be back to your routine.
And of course, the new little charm sitting in your pocket seems to hold so much weight.
Din returns a few days after you. Itβs hard trying to ignore the bubbling joy that rises watching him approach your x-wing first.
βWelcome back.β He greets and Grogu squeals adorably scurrying to you.
Eagerly you welcome his jump into your arms, and you squeeze him tight.
βI miss you too,β you tell Grogu but hope his father knows you mean him as well.
βAnd look, I got something for you.β You shift to hold Grogu in one arm.
Then you hold up the new charm.
βWhat is it supposed to be?β Din sounds confused and slightly alarmed.
βItβs a little monster,β you reply lightly insulted.
βMy niece and I made these, and I knew someone who might like it.β You grin towards Grogu now.
βBweh!β He cheers and draws the charm into his small arms so enamored with the strange monstrosity already.
βSee! He likes it, that's what matters.β You huff proudly at Din.
Grogu chirps like he agrees. You laugh then catch Dinβs chuckle too.
βWhat do you say, kid?β Din says.
Grogu however doesnβt say anything. Instead he leans up and hugs you. His sweet little arms curl against your neck.
Holding this baby so tight is like holding a little newborn star. Youβre grateful for this moment and hug Grogu close, closing your eyes to fully embrace this wonderful tiny soul.
βYouβre welcome, little troublemaker.β You softly tell him.
The baby then settles into your arms as if itβs the most natural thing in the world.
Worried you might have overstepped, you quickly snap your attention to Din. His helmet stays focused on you.
You wonder what his eyes look like, what color swims within his gaze.
βGlad youβre back safe.β Dinβs voice sounds low, softer and a bit thick.
βMe too,β you reply, letting yourself sink into whatever it is overtaking your entire heart.
This infatuation, or whatever itβs mutated into, grows stronger. And it terrifies you.
But youβre reminded quickly there are more terrifying things to face.
The wound isnβt looking good.
Youβre more pissed at yourself for getting ambushed by damn pirates. This operation was supposed to be simple, check in on the distress signal intercepted by base. But one pirate ambush later and youβre now stranded trying to stop the bleeding.
You just hope the emergency signal you sent back to camp went through. Leaning against your ship, you take a deep breath trying to calm yourself down. Youβve dealt with worse. You can handle this.
Until something pierces your back, and a scream of pain escapes you. Electricity courses through your body knocking you to the ground.
Everything stings. You can barely concentrate, but you hear them. Gleeful disgusting laughs swirling all around. The damn piratesβ¦
βThink of the price weβll get for x-wing parts!β One of them muses.
βOr even for the pilot, quite a cute one.β That comment unleashes a panicked feral terror.
Get up, you have to get up. Even though every part of your body stings, screaming to stay still, you have to move.
You slowly try to sit up through the aftershocks, but then a boot comes to slowly step on your chest, pressing you down to the dirt.
βNah uh little pilot, where do ya think youβre going.β A voice snickers.
You clench your jaw hard. This isnβt looking good.
A sudden blaster shot fires and immediately takes out a pirate with accurate precision.
βWhat was that?!β One of them screams.
Then a blaster shot silenced him.
βStep away from her now.β Din.
Or someone sounding like him.
The voice is deadly, terrifying, and you wonder if it even is Din.
Then the pirate towering above you with his boot still pressing on your chest suddenly gets thrown off.
Weakly you cough sitting up. While you do, you witness Din in action and realize heβs truly here.
And the way he attacks, effortlessly slicing through the pirate captain and the lackeys that try rushing him - heβs incredible.
Youβve never seen anyone fight so fluidly and powerful. Youβre witnessing one of the most powerful warriors in the galaxyβ¦
And heβs here to save you.
A small concerned whimper comes to your side and immediately you glance down. Grogu quickly waddles to your arm and flashes his wide worried eyes up to you.
βIβm okay, I promise.β He must see the wound, and you try smiling reassuringly.
He hums a small noise at you. Then he closes his eyes, laying his little claw against your elbow. Slowly a gentle warmth suddenly crawls up your shoulder.
What is he doing?
The stinging pain vanishes instantly. Reaching up to your shoulder, you find no wound.
βMweh.β Grogu peers up at you with a small little wave.
βYou really are something else, little trouble makerβ¦ thank you.β You fondly stroke his fuzzy little head, and he beams.
Din urgently yells your name and soon rushes to kneel before you. Gloved hands reach out to steady your shoulders.
βIβm fine.β You now reassure him and move to squeeze one of his hands.
An exhale escapes Din, relieved.
βIβm sorry you both had to come all the way out here. Iβm sure there are better bounties to hunt.β You half tease.
βDonβt apologize.β He immediately snaps.
Grogu makes a sad noise as if chiding his father.
βJust glad youβre safe.β So Din gently adds and steadily helps you stand.
Zeb lands moments later with a mechanic to help patch up your ship. The entire time Din stays by your side, letting you lean against him for support. His guiding hand never leaves you.
Youβre given the rest of the week off to recover.
βSo was Mando on a mission with you when my distress beacon went out?β You ask Zeb when he drops by to check on you.
He snorts, giving you a knowing side eye smirk.
βIs that what you think?β Zeb doesnβt elaborate even when you pester him.
Itβs Dyana of course who reveals the truth.
βMando was the first to rush out. Ward had to practically stop him before he flew off on his own.β Her words unravel something effortlessly in you.
How can you ignore these feelings for a mandalorian anymore?
βI think itβs romantic.β Dyana thankfully doesnβt judge you when you finally admit everything to her.
There was no time for romance during a rebellion, during a war. Even now you almost scoff at the idea. There are other things to do, other things to focus on than get lovesick over someone.
But Din dismantled all those old thoughts in you, leaving you exposed and almost greedy for someone now.
βItβs okay to want that you knowβ¦ romance and companionship.β Dyana tells you already sensing your hesitation.
You know her and a cute mechanic have been dating off and on for a while. Sheβs always been urging you to get out more, maybe try to find someone. Guess you just had to wait for a mandalorian to show up.
But you have to put all those giggles and feelings aside.
Your time resting is done, and immediately youβre thrown back into the rush of work.
A mission and orders arrive a few days later on your datapad.
Raid strike this week, get ready
Itβs not a full strike squadron, but youβre thankful Zeb is tagging along.
βThink your boyfriend might be joining us.β He teases, and your eyes narrow hard. Now you regret him being here.
βI donβt have a boyfriend.β You rapidly dismiss.
βHuh uh.β He rolls his eyes.
As if summoned to add to your pain, Din enters the command center. It feels like feral lizard birds were released in your stomach.
Immediately his helmet spots you. Grogu perched on his shoulder chirps upon seeing you. Trying to act relaxed, you give the boys a casual wave and bright grin.
Zeb chuckles, and you silently shush him again under your breath. You walk to meet Din halfway.
βGlad youβre doing better.β He says, faintly warm, and you nod grateful.
βThanks to my two heroes,β you thank them both again. Grogu beams toothy when you tickle his chin.
Din doesnβt say anything.
βGuess weβre finally teaming up.β So you speak up first.
βSeems like it,β Din agrees.
This isnβt the first time heβs seen you in your pilot gear. Hell, he just rescued you last week. But for some reason, you feel more self aware than ever.
Thankfully Ward enters, drawing the roomβs attention to her.
The mission is to ambush the warlord now barricaded up in his mansion. Heβs apparently greatly armed and even hired a small air brigade. Itβs why this strike squadron was called in. Youβre curious why Din is here though.
βWithout the mandalorianβs intel, we wouldnβt have this opportunity. So we will be following his lead.β She sends her focus to him.
Din simply and silently nods back.
Then he moves to the holo map and gives details about the estate. Hearing how commanding and surefire his voice resounds, the way he walks confidently and without any hesitation, heβs incredible.
But thereβs no time to linger on this warrior.
Itβs time to fly.
βFinally get to see you in action,β you tell Din as he walks out with you.
βGuess you will.β He replies with a hint of something playful, and it only speeds up your racing heart.
All you can do is laugh before parting ways.
βDonβt get lost in the clouds.β You teasingly yell to the mandalorian and he looks back at you from over his shoulder.
You canβt see Dinβs eyes, but you hope theyβre amused.
Him and Grogu now trail away from where youβre stationed, and you settle into your ship.
Your x-wing roars alive, and the familiar comms flicker in your ear. Then the call signals electrify the start to battle.
βDelphi squadron, lock in.β Teva announces on the main channel, the leader for this run. Everyone follows suit locking in their coordinates.
βBlue 9, standing by.β You chime in, readying the flight path.
βStarfighter, standing by.β Then a new voice floats through your helmet.
The tone resonates rich as a stormy ocean sending a shock through your system.
Hearing Din in your helmet does something to you so wild that you feel guilty at how fast your core clenched. You recollect yourself fast.
Thatβs when you notice the ship he joined in with.
A starfighter? Thereβs no way. Those ships donβt exist.
But again, youβre proven so wrong.
Among the gunfire and smoke, the sounds of battle, a new gleam of silver catches your attention. The Naboo N-1 fighter is a marvel.
A sleek whisper of a dream, one minute sheβs a simple flicker of light then the next sheβs firing directly in the trenches of the fight.
But as in awe of the ship as you are, itβs the mandalorian who leaves you breathless.
Din flies amazing. The fast maneuvering, the excellent read he makes of the battle, among his readiness to swoop in and out of tight spaces - youβve never seen anyone fly this beautifully.
It inspires you, the type of flying that makes you want to soar higher to catch up.
So you do.
You embrace the rebel pilot you always might be and dive through the canyons chasing after one of the bandits the warlord hired.
Quickly you dispatch the enemy ship then swirl and maneuver your x-wing to return to the open sky.
βTarget on your left.β Dinβs voice suddenly thunders in your ear, chiming in on your personal channel.
βGot it.β You reply steady and twist fast enough to fire on the swing mid air.
βGot him, great shot!β Listening to Dinβs deep fierce voice over your private channel, his voice colored in pride, you have to mute the channel to exhale.
Because a wave of arousal crawled up your spine so fast you had to bite your lip. Now you try settling yourself down again.
You pride yourself on being composed when you fly. There of course have been times when youβve gotten emotional and maybe reacted.
Yet here this masked man completely disarms you.
Itβs a fight you realize you wonβt win.
The raid is successful, and the warlord gets taken in alive. Thatβs the win that matters.
βGreat job,β Din suddenly voices back in your comms, still sounding so proud, and you melt all over again.
βYou too, thanks for the support,β you answer back, just as fond, then rapidly switch over the channel.
βCaptain,β you ask Teva on his personal comms.
βBefore we leave, do you think I can test Mando on how he flies?β
Teva takes a moment then sighs.
βMake it quick.β
Giddy you quickly chime back onto Dinβs channel.
βWanna go for a run?β A part of you worries he wonβt want to join you.
βLead the way.β But Din quickly answers, and you pull back up to the clouds.
The planet is rather gorgeous, full of lush canyons and towering mountains. Itβs a flight playground. Among the skies, twisting and twirling down through the natural landscape, you and Din soar around each other, with each.
Playful, yet delicately cautious, your x-wing revolves alongside his starfighter. Din keeps up with you every moment. Quietly the image of a dance among the clouds floats into your mind.
βUp for a race?β He suddenly asks.
βOh, you know it.β You agree, excited. You settle into your seat, ready to take off.
But in a flash, he zooms past you.
βWhat the hell?!β You shriek over the comms.
Dinβs husky laugh in your ear is a beautiful reward.
Returning back to Adelphi, you and him fly beside each other. Ward gives everyone the night off, and the cantina already seems to shine extra bright landing in.
Settling into your spot in the hanger, you notice Din lands his starfighter closer than ever.
Sliding off your helmet, for a moment you worry about how bad your hair looks, how messy and sweaty you must be.
But heading down the ladder, Din already walks towards you.
All your worries vanish. You donβt even care how fast you walk towards him. Here standing before Din under the low lights of the hanger, the world melts away.
βYou were incredible.β
βYou flewβ¦ amazing.β
Both you and Din speak at the same time, words jumbling up and getting tangled. It startles you, even his shoulders stiffen a bit.
Then you laugh.
βNo, you were the incredible one.β You tell him first.
βNot compared to you,β he shakes his head.
βGlad I finally got to see one of the Rebellionβs and New Republicβs best pilots in action.β Thereβs a smirk in his voice, and heat burns through your veins.
Any words you want to say, heβs stolen them right from you. All youβre reduced to is a love struck fool caught in the orbit of this powerful mandalorian.
Din doesnβt say anything either. Itβs like you and him canβt look away from the other standing this close.
βHey! Ya two love birds gonna join us or what?β Zeb suddenly breaks the spell, and your blood instantly boils.
You hiss foul curses at Zeb, and he only cackles with laughter.
Embarrassed and trying to escape this moment you shake your head heading towards the exit.
βCome on, letβs go celebrate.β You manage to smile at Din hoping to dispel any comments about what Zeb said.
The mandalorian follows you into the mess hall cantina. The lively celebratory air glimmers with joyous laughter. Itβs a welcoming atmosphere, and even Wolf along with a few other pilots ask Din to join them.
βMaybe in a bit,β He nods, instead staying by your side when you approach the bar.
βNo pressure, but drinks on me if you want.β You offer.
βIβll pass, but thanks.β He instead places down credits for your drink, and you thank him with a toast.
βCome on, letβs see how good of a sabacc player you are.β After taking a huge sip, you allow the alcohol to sting in the best way.
βThink you might be dissapointed,β Din chuckles.
Of course heβs a damn natural.
Everyone at the table cries in frustration when he wins the second round, and you even narrow your eyes at him.
βOh, so youβre a liar.β You joke good naturedly.
βNever said I was good or bad.β He answers and itβs rather coy, lighter than what youβve heard from him.
βNext time Mando I want you cominβ with me off planet! We could really win big.β Someone suggests and now itβs comforting seeing how much everyone has warmed up to him, how much Din has settled in here too.
Until you realize the baby is missing and immediately turn to Din. Maybe itβs the atmosphere but you lean closer to him placing your hand against his arm.
βWait, whereβs Grogu?β You ask concerned and low.
Din leans closer to you, his helmet almost grazing your face.
βDonβt worry, heβs asleep in the barracks.β Dinβs answer comes low, reassuring.
Then he reaches up to lay his hand on top of yours. Itβs a reassuring hold, a soft touch that brings comfort.
You exhale relieved and donβt have time to realize what he just did until someone drags Din away to play darts.
He squeezed your hand, and you now fight against a dumb smile just thinking about it.
Even after another round of getting your ass kicked at cards, you donβt care. You glance over to Din.
A cluster of pilots surround him. Youβre not surprised. Heβs a marvel, someone truly remarkable. But one of the prettier pilots slides up next to Din, batting her eyelashes so dreamily up at him.
Something fierce, venomous and coated in jealousy, strikes.
Reaching to Wolf, you nudge his shoulder a few times, and he knowingly looks at you. Not saying anything, he discreetly slips you a smoke stick.
You head out of the cantina into the soft warm night and light up. The smoke in your lungs settles you down for a moment and cuts through the alcohol.
Dumb Mandalorian man making you feel this wayβ¦
Taking another drag of the smoke stick, you watch the smoke you exhale mix into the air.
βDidnβt know you smoked.β Din.
His voice melts into the night like he stepped out of the shadows themselves. As he wanders towards you, you shift to lean against the rail of the patio.
βNot often,β you truthfully answer. Itβs been a long time since you lit up.
A bad habit you picked up during your rebellion days, being as young as you were around seasoned veteran pilots. It became a way to calm yourself down and stop your hands from shaking from the nerves.
You even tell him that.
βWhat made you join?β He asks, tentative and quiet.
A loaded question but one you feel comfortable enough to answer, especially with him.
The empire took so much from you. Youβre grateful you and your sister managed to keep each other safe, look out for each other. You werenβt lying when you joked about stealing ships. Learning to steal is how you survived for a while as a kid.
Then you accidentally stole from a man named Luthen Rael, and your life changed. Whatever he saw in your eyes that day when he caught you⦠it kept you alive.
Heβs the one who helped get your wings, got you in touch with rebellion once you could fly. Once you joined, you never saw him again.
βNever looked back since.β You tell this all to Din.
You donβt regret your choices. Theyβre what brought you here after all, kept you safe even during the danger.
βYou did what you had toβ¦ you should be proud of the life youβve made. Of the wars you've fought and survived.β Din sincerely commends you, and his words settle deep in your heart.
You softly thank him, appreciating the sentiment.
βAnd you? What brought you to the New Republic?β Taking another drag of the smoke stick, you finally decide to ask.
This time heβs sighing and moves to lean against the rail beside you. Heβs pressed up right beside you.
βBenn a long way to get here as well.β Heβs vague, but explains how he was, and still is a bounty hunter by trade. How that path led him to the kid. How Grogu is by Mandalorian creed his son and apprentice now.
βI couldn't keep getting involved with pirates, working for gangsters. Itβs not the life I wanted anymore.β
Itβs admirable seeing how valiant Dinβs spirit shines, yet you hear how weary his soul must be like he carries so much guilt.
βThere are wars youβve fought too, Din. You should be proud of your victories. Even the ones you donβt think you should be.β Maybe itβs the fading alcohol and slow numbness of the smoke stick, but you want more than ever to just hold him.
You go to take another drag to stop yourself from doing anything reckless, but find your smoke stick is burnt to its final end.
βI donβt.. deserve such kind words. But thank you.β Dinβs voice is thick, tangled in thorny emotions.
Yet underneath it all, he sounds softer and raw, like a man trying to find comfort in your words.
So you turn and see his striking dark T visor gaze on you.
A moment passes where itβs just you and him under the night sky, staring at each other.
βNo matter what path you took, I'm glad youβre here.β You earnestly tell him.
In such a short amount of time this mandalorian has reawakened something in you and takes up such a large part of your heart.
βMe too.β Din mutters, nodding.
Another x-wing lands outside stealing your attention away as the engines break the quiet night air.
βAlways been curious to how they fly.β Din suddenly comments sounding intrigued.
βYou wanna see?β
He turns to you, helmet tilted incredulous and challenging.
βCome on,β so you challenge him back with a toothy grin.
Immediately Din follows behind you, footsteps quick yet terrifying agile.
The hanger sits in eerie stillness this time of night.
βShould we even be here?β Din asks low, a bit cautious.
βDidnβt take you as a βby the booksβ guy, Mando.β You use the common name everyone calls him as a tease.
βOnly when it comes to my employer.β He replies unamused.
βTrust me, weβll be fine.β You wave him off and he continues following you further into the dark hanger.
He doesnβt know it, but this place, especially for pilots, is an infamous makeout spot. You try not to think about that too much.
There you arrive at your x-wing.
βHop in,β you nudge him towards the ladder.
βWhat?β Din sounding so boyish and confused makes you laugh.
βGet in,β you urge.
Sighing defeated he climbs up the ladder to the cockpit and you follow. You look away trying not to stare at his cute ass.
βCan we even fit in this?β
βX-wings are capable of holding various types and sizes of pilots. We are not the empire, thank you very much,β you proudly declare.
The hatch opens, and Din jumps in. The dashboard and control panel light up as he takes a seat in your chair.
Your throat goes dry seeing him sit in the same pilot seat you fly in.
βThrottle, control stick,β he points out immediately.
As much room as you have, it is cramped standing up. So you curl to the side, closer to him, but keep your eyes on the control monitor.
βItβs got a good radar system.β Din comments admiring the monitor too.
You rattle on about how these are the upgraded models everyone got after the war. The original ones you used during the rebellion are classic, but the upgrades were warmly welcomed.
βSorry, this all must sound boring.β You weakly laugh.
βItβs not. Tell me more.β He reassures.
Youβre about to until you hear commotion around the hanger.
So, quickly you scramble up and around to slide into the seat -
Right between the V of Dinβs legs.
You crouch low and drag him down too.
βWhβ¦what are you-β
βShhβ¦β you shush him. βHave to lie low just in case.β
βSo we should leave.β Din urges urgent.
βWeβre fine.β You reassure him now.
The commotion you thought you heard passes by, and silence returns.
You exhale a bit relieved, moving to sit up. Then you grin at him from over your shoulder.
βSeeβ¦ told you weβd be fine.β
He stays quiet.
It hits you. Maybe you upset him or crossed a line being this close. Though you arenβt fully pressed up against his chest, the position is still intimate. Youβre literally between his legs.
You want to apologize, especially now that the courage fades away fast.
But all you can think about is how stunning Din is, how gorgeous he looks here in your ship.
βOne day you should fly it.β You truthfully blurt out while staring at him.
βDonβt think Ward would let me.β He stiffly replies.
βI would.β You immediately counter.
βPlus you look good in here...β Then you realize what you just admitted.
So you try to recover fast.
βKnowing your skills, if you had been with us during the rebellion days, you wouldβve fit in just fine. Probably wouldβve even been half as good as me.β You add hastily, half joking, hoping he doesnβt linger on anything you said before.
You now glance away to check out the window. The hanger is thankfully still empty.
Then Din suddenly softly breathes your name.
Youβve never heard it sound so holy and raw that it rips you wide open. You completely shift around to glance at him in the lowly light cockpit.
βHow inebriated are you?β He asks husky, thick.
βI could recite the entire radar flight plan chart we made for Endor.β You tell him completely wide awake now. Every part of you feels like a live wire completely focused on this man.
His low weak chuckle makes your stomach flip in the best way.
Din exhales, breathy and deep.
You donβt want to over step, donβt want to ruin this. So you patiently wait, hoping he makes the first move.
Feeling his arms slide around yours, tentative but curious, youβre galvanized.
Immediately you rise and twist around to fully stare down at him. Looking at Din for a moment, here in the cockpit of your ship, you want to burn this image into your memory. Want to consecrate this in a way you never may do with anyone else again.
You rest your legs on either side of his, caging him in then you settle down onto his lap.
The soft low noise Din makes is music to your ears.
He says your name, but it sounds more like a warning.
βI want thisβ¦ I want you.β You tell him, finally admitting the words out loud.
Then, you grind down on his lap, straddling him, and immediately pleasure floods into your system.
Din groans, and it spurs you on instantly.
Frustrated that youβre still in your damn flight suit, you unzip the top, slide off the jacket, and exhale feeling the coolness reach your skin. Sliding your hands up to his shoulders you whisper his name.
Then you grind against the bulge in Dinβs pants pressing into you, and your mind goes foggy.
But not foggy enough that you notice Din remains still.
Everything collides into you with a halting stop. What if he doesnβt want this?
βIβmβ¦ Iβm so sorry.β You halt your movements and apologize composed as you can. Awkwardly you lift yourself off of him.
βNo I-β Din starts, but then stops himself.
You settle back down on him but this time further back on his thighs.
βDo youβ¦ not want to do this?β You ask cautiously. βBecause itβs okay if you donβt.β
Itβs okay if you donβt want me, is what you actually want to say. But youβre not brave enough for that, no matter how many empire ships youβve shot down.
βNo.β Din noisily exhales frustrated.
His hands go to rest on your thighs. His head falls forward, crestfallen.
βI want this, want you. Just afraid I wonβt be able to stop.β He admits weak.
βYou donβt have to stopβ¦ I donβt want you to.β You admit, soft and greedy, deciding not to hold back now.
Here in your ship, you think maybe heβs become your prey, trapped in your spiderweb. But then his helmet ever so slightly tilts up to you. Under the watch of his unflinching visor, you now feel like a prey caught within a hunterβs gaze.
His heavy breathing grows stronger and reignites something in you.
βDin,β You mutter his name, and he lets out a strained curse.
βI think about youβ¦ too much.β Din reveals like itβs a painful truth, as if the words hurt to say.
βI think about you all the time.β The truth leaves you effortlessly now.
βWonder about what color your eyes are,β You decide to be the brave rebellion pilot you are.
βIf you and the baby are safe, eating well,β you add, and he chuckles breathily.
βI think about how brave you are and howβ¦ lucky I am to know you,β you continue feeling molten and sentimental now.
Din says your name again, this time tender, and it almost causes you to falter.
So you lean closer to his helmet.
βI think about how handsome you areβ¦ imagine your cock inside me.β You mutter and hearing the words aloud feels too much.
But then his strong hands dig into your thighs and slide you on his lap fully, dragging you across his clothed cock.
How strong he pulled you, the fast friction draws a whine from you.
βYeah?β He growls and leans his helmet directly against your face. The cool beskar touching your skin is heavenly.
βYeah.β You moan, and your hips begin their rhythm again.
This time itβs not just you moving. Din finally grinds up into you, and you see stars. Your underwear sticks to your sticky core, but you donβt care.
Not when you and Din rut against each other and his hands chart a path all over you. One hand slides up to your neck, anchoring you close to him. The other moves to your back, sliding up to bunch your tank top in his grasp.
Itβs too hot now, and youβre wearing too many clothes.
So you weakly draw away from his hold to reach up and yank your top off.
Then you wiggle the last bit of the jump suit off, trying to let your hips and legs be free. But itβs hard.
Din even chuckles at your struggle, and you shoot him a look, annoyed. Patiently, he helps slide the material down until it pools down your legs.
Now youβre simply in your underwear, completely bare before him.
The sensation of his gloved hands running up your stomach, across your back, reverently taking in every inch of your bare soft skin, it melts you.
βBeautiful,β Din breathes in awe.
Then one of his gloved hands crawls up to knead your breast in his grasp, pinching your nipple. Your head falls back, and your hips return to seek relief. Grinding against him without the jumpsuit, the friction is so much stronger, a delicious undercurrent making you want more.
βDin,β You sob, feeling the pleasure build fast.
βWant you inside of me,β you whimper quickly getting drunk on him.
He cusses again sharp, dragging you harder against his clothed cock.
A loss comes when his hands leave your body, but wearily your eyes open once you feel him move to his pant buckle. Eagerly you join in to help.
His cock in your hand is warm. Heβs thick, delicious in size. Heβs already leaking, and possessed by something raw you lean down to lightly spit on his cock. Din groans so loud you think it rattles your bones.
Stroking his cock slow, you love feeling his mess mix with your spit.
He quickly hisses your name.
βInside now,β he urges, a desperate man. Clutching at your hips hard, he practically draws you up.
Who are you to deny your mandalorian?
He helps slide off your stick underwear, now fully bare.
Before you sink down on him, you lean closer to his helmet.
You donβt have to say anything. You simply look at him, a final reassurance to see if he wants this the way you want him.
A gloved hand curls up to your face, cradling your sweaty face, stroking your cheek. His touch is fond, and it rocks you more than anything.
He nods firm, so sure.
So you sink down on him, guiding him into you. Both you and him moan and the world implodes in the most beautiful way.
When you were younger and around the veteran pilots, they used to share tales of how theyβd christen their ships. Back then, you couldnβt imagine bringing anyone into this sacred space to do that.
Now you donβt want Din to leave it.
A fervid raw desperation has you clinging to him, Din touches you so protectively, keeping you close. His hands clutch you firm, like heβs worried you could fly away from him at any moment.
Needing to be closer, you curl against his neck. You ache to kiss his skin. But the smell of gunpowder, of something beautifully musky, purely Din, floods your mind and makes your mouth water.
His pace grows sloppy, and you feel it coming too.
βWhere?β He slurs urgently.
βInside, got the implant,β you mutter half dazed, but when you feel his cock twitch inside you moan embarrassingly loud.
βInside Din please please please.β You now beg, wanting to feel him so badly.
βNot until you come first, wanna feel you.β Din demands growling back, and it pushes you over the edge.
Your climax knocks you into another realm. Youβre floating. Din follows you over not long after with the deepest groan.
His warmth fills you, even feel it leaking out, causing you to whimper so content.
Exhausted you flop against his chest loving the cool press of his armor against your bare skin. Then a part of you hisses to pull away. Until Dinβs helmet gently leans to rest against your head, and his gloved fingers tenderly stroke your back keeping you in place.
βSoβ¦ you ever done that before in here?β Din asks, partially joking but still curious.
You shake your head no.
βYouβre the only one.β You reveal.
His hand tracing across your skin suddenly stops. Then it fully draws across you to draw you closer to him in a soft like embrace.
An aching adoration for this man cements itself into you. Itβs now etched into your heart and now your ship. Maybe the two are the same.
After this night, you find him everywhere now.
Anytime he or you return back from a mission, one seeks the other out.
Din and Grogu now even rest in your quarters.
The lodging here is small, but itβs become your makeshift home. Grogu snuggles up warm among the blanket pile youβve made for him on the extra cot. And Din sleeps beside you in your bed.
You believed it was something sacred to know a mandalorian, but you realize itβs a true honor to find one seeking rest beside you.
Bathed in the moonlight leaking into your room, you and Din stare at each other lying side by side.
You wish he could relax more, maybe take off his armor.
But remaining helmeted, you understand his creed and donβt want to push. Itβs just a small piece of you being selfish and wanting to see him.
βWhatβs wrong?β He notices your silence.
βI wish I could make this more comfortable for you.β Is the best way you can tell him.
He chuckles.
βDonβt worry, Iβm fine.β
To even prove it he settles deeper among the pillows sliding closer to you.
βNicer than the cot that I have on Nevarro.β
You almost laugh. Heβs so endearing sometimes and doesnβt even realize it.
But youβre reminded he does have a home.
βWhatβs your place like on Nevarro?β You ask about it.
βItβs good, simple.β Such a boring classic Din answer.
βMaybeβ¦ one day you can see it.β That addition he makes has your heart racing.
βYeah, Iβd like thatβ you nod, grateful for the offer.
Slowly your eyes close on their own now.
βBrown,β until suddenly he blurts out a random color.
Wearily opening your eyes blinking at him a bit confused.
βMy eyesβ¦ theyβre brown.β He reveals.
A soft grateful smile warms your face as you thank him.
You fall asleep beside him, wondering about his home, what it would be like to wake up and see his beautiful brown eyes.
But those daydreams get shoved away fast.
Missions begin piling up. The empire trash is getting sneakier, working faster in the shadows. It keeps everyone busy. You barely see Din. When you do the exchanges are brief, simple glances or even short catch ups.
Ward eyes you and Din suspicious but of course aware.
Approaching Din you try avoiding the colonelβs gaze as she leaves.
Thatβs when you spot the ship that flew in yesterday.
βYou wantedβ¦ this hunk of junk?β You dubiously stare at the razor crest. This is the beloved ship Din apparently had been searching high and low for.
βShe flies better than she looks.β Din defends.
Grogu excitedly waddles up the ramp eager to be inside the old ship.
You still eye the gunship worried about how good she can protect the cargo sheβll soon be carrying.
βMight not be a x-wing, but I trust this ship with my life.β Din senses your apprehension.
You give him a soft elbow nudge that barely makes his budge. But he playfully nudges you back, and a grin tugs at your lips.
βUgh,β Zeb groans with faux disgust seeing you and Din. You roll your eyes.
βYou know, I notice with all the markingsβ¦ this ship looks like it could fit in with a gold squadron.β You tell Zeb nudging your chin towards the paint.
He barks a laugh.
βWouldnβt that be a sight. This piece of junk flying with us?β Zeb muses.
βI donβt knowβ¦I think the crest would fight right in.β You shrug, fond.
βYeah? Think we could get Mando in a uniform?β Zeb adds and Din flat out shuts that down with a hard no.
It makes you and Zeb snicker.
Now you head in to examine the ship yourself and look around. The older metal, the antique design and layout, it really doesnβt ease your apprehension, but you trust Din.
βYour beskar boy has shit taste picking a ship like this.β Zed snorts heading up to the cockpit.
βShut up.β You practically hiss at him.
But he leaves you and Din alone.
Itβs hard to navigate this strange space lingering between you and him, as if neither you or him know how to move.
So you decide to be brave. You grab his hand and squeeze it.
βBe safe,β you nod to the mandalorian.
He quietly nods back, gathering your hand in his. He squeezes back just as firm.
You head out of the razor crest and into the bright afternoon sun. From the cockpit window you spot your boys. Din nods a farewell, and Grogu spotting you waves down from the control panel. In his grasp is your silly little monster charm.
Not moving from your spot, you keep your eyes on the ship until it fades into the jump of hyperspeed.
You donβt hear from Din for half a month.
Itβs nothing new. Youβre had months where missions kept you both busy. And from how displeased she was with the last mission, Ward apparently has him working on something fierce.
Then another week passes, and youβre sent on a protective mission to Chandrilla.
It takes your full attention. But the entire time your mind is on Din. Are he and Grogu safe? Is everything going okay?
βYou must be in love.β The Senator youβre escorting on the mission says suddenly. Embarrassment floods you fast.
βIβm sorry?β You ask slightly confused.
He smiles at you kindly.
βYouβve been sighing, seem distant. Like a heroine kept away from a lover.β
Shit.
βI apologize. I promised Iβm focused.β You reassure him, and the senator laughs.
βItβs fine, my dear,β he reassures, then leans in eagerly. βSo tell me about the lucky person.β
Now here you are telling this Senator about your awful admiration for the mandalorian.
βOh, a mandalorian.β He whispers in awe. βTheyβre a rare kind. He must be quite a sight.β
He is. But heβs more than that.
Heβs kind and unbelievingly sharp. Strikingly powerful, and unwaveringly supportive. Thereβs a compassion that walks hand in hand with Dinβs firm courage.
βOh you got it bad,β the Senator laughs.
Itβs unfortunately true.
How fast and quickly this mandalorian has disarmed you, but what else would you have expected from a warrior like him? Maybe you were doomed from the start to fight against feelings for such a fierce conqueror.
The thoughts of him keep you going through the mission.
Arriving at base camp, you instead find thereβs already commotion.
Din has returned, but heβs not alone.
Jabbaβs son, Rotta the Hutt, is with him.
At least Din and the baby are safe.
Standing off overlooking the beach, Din patiently watches Grogu play among the beach waves with the young Hutt.
βSo, looks like youβve been busy.β You say moving to his side.
βTell me about it.β He sighs.
The rundown he gives you is surface level, getting tied up among the Hutt twins while trying to search for the infamous Commander Coin.
βThings might get hairy soon. Iβm heading back to Nevarro to lie low for a while.β
His somber tone says more looms.
βDinβ¦β you mutter cautiously.
He turns to you.
βIf youβre in any dangerβ¦know that I want to help.β You urge, hoping heβll tell you more.
βI know.β He nods, yet says nothing more.
Please, your heart begs, please let me stay by your side and fight with you.
But you know fighting against this adamant man is a losing battle. So you sigh and reach down to your belt.
The charm you have on today is your favorite, and you hand it to him.
βRemember to bring it back to me.β You canβt even look at him because your eyes suddenly feel like they could spill over a river of tears.
His gloved hand cradles your face, letting you fully look at him.
βWeβll be fine.β His voice soothes you steeled with resolution.
You nod, fighting harder against tears.
Then Din leans down. He presses his helmet against your forehead. You close your eyes and lean into the cool beskar.
With a goodbye hug to Grogu, you tell the sweet little soul to keep an eye on his dad.
This time, you donβt have the strength to watch them leave.
You throw yourself into any available mission.
Ward must sense why youβre doing this and in a punishment of sorts, she instead sticks you on filing reports.
βMando will be fine,β Teva tries to reassure you.
You hope he will be. Days pass and you try to settle into a routine.
But then a group of Anzellans arrive in a panic. Youβd been working on your ship when they landed.
Currently they rapidly relay a message to Ward. She patiently tries to listen to all of their worried voices.
βWhatβs going on?β You ask Wolf.
βApparently Mando and the kid are stuck on Nal Huttaβ¦ donβt think itβs looking good.β He mutters back somber.
Absolute dread is unleashed in you.
You donβt realize youβre moving until youβre standing right before the colonel.
βLet me join the rescue strike.β You urge.
Ward turns to you, then sighs, even says your name a bit heartbroken. That says enough.
βAre we really considering not going?!β Your voice raises, shocked and upset.
βItβs not that simple.β Ward, calm and composed, tries to clarify, but just hearing that line feels like an alarm goes off in your head.
βWhat isnβt simple?! Heβs one of us. We have to rescue them.β You argue back harder.
βThere are protocols. And with the intel and alliance weβve tried establishing with the Hutts we canβt just strike in, ranger.β Ward sharply explains, putting you in your place.
Before Ward can even say anything, you turn on your heels and head out of the hanger zipping up your flight suit.
You donβt care if this will get you in trouble, hell even dishonorably discharged. Din needs you. Grogu needs you.
Then you hear a few others arrive in the hangar.
Ward calls out your name. This is it.
Turning towards her, you ready yourself to accept whatever punishment. Yet, you instead see your commander in her flight suit as well. Your eyes canβt help but widen.
She sighs yet gives you a half grin, understanding.
βI should sit you out on this mission.β
βI know. Iβve accepted that Iβll be doing reports for the rest of the year.β You sleepily shrug.
Her smirks grows bigger.
βTry two years,β she says heading to her ship.
Youβll happily accept that too.
The twinβs palace is heavily guarded, and itβs a true dogfight on Nal Hutta.
Then Dinβs voice electrifies the coms as he reports in with Colonel Ward. Absolute relief blooms in your chest, and you feel like crying. Heβs alive.
Now you fly harder and faster than you ever have. It reminds you of Endor. That final battle all you thought of was the hope right before your eyes, knowing something precious was so close and needed to be defended.
Thatβs what this feels like.
You manage to knock out a few droid ships, but the main focus is on the palace.
Yet Din remains inside.
And Ward gives the command to light the place up.
βGet out of there. Please.β You whisper out loud or maybe to the force itself.
Then, the stronghold goes under flames.
You and the others circle around, flying out of the line of fire from the explosion. Yet your stomach stays in knots.
βAnyone got eyes on Mando?β Wolf asks before you can.
Out from the smoke, there among the water below, you spot them. Your boys are alive.
A watery relieved laugh escapes you as you blink away the tears.
βGo pick up the trash, Zeb.β Ward jokes, and you canβt even be mad.
Knowing theyβre safe is all that matters.
Vibrating with so much emotion, you land besides Zebβs ship hoping to see them.
But Ward of course arrives first.
You instead idle by your x-wing, pretending to be checking your engines. Ward tells him the truth about the Hutts that even you didnβt know. So thatβs why she finally agreed to go.
βAndβ¦ we donβt leave our own behind.β Her words resound within you.
Din deflects, saying how heβs not with the New Republic.
βSure you arenβt Mando, sure you arenβt.β She says.
βIf you aren't one of usβ¦ Who do you think helped convince us to come?β
Wardβs insinuating tone shoots a shock up your spine.
You keep your gaze on your ship, refusing to even look their way. Focusing on mindlessly keeping busy, you donβt notice footsteps approaching until you move out from under the wing. There Din stands waiting.
Heβs here.
Grogu cries gleefully, and your attention turns to him. You eagerly accept him into your arms hugging him tight.
βIβm so proud of you. You must have been so brave, my little ranger.β You even press a kiss to his fuzzy head, addressing him as the courageous officer he is.
The baby coos back fond, embracing you with his sweet but sturdy little arms.
While heβs still in your hold, your eyes open to find Din.
He stares unwavering at you, and your eyes water again.
βWelcome back,β you croak out.
Din nods, then, he raises up your favorite charm you gave him.
βHad to bring this back.β
With a watery laugh, you shake your head.
βYour dad is so silly,β you half whisper to Grogu who giggles, agreeing.
A sigh leaves Din but, in a few steps, he walks towards you.
Then you and Grogu are gathered into his embrace. You immediately wrap one of your arms around Din.
βThank youβ¦ for coming for us.β Dinβs voice is gentle, grateful.
βAlways.β You answer back with a resounding truth.
Your job is tied here, and you might fly for the sake of the New Republic. But you believe your true wings, your heartβs flight navigation, now will always include a path for and to Din Djarin.
Currently he chats with Rotta, from what you heard might be staying here too.
Once you head into the mess hall Ward calls your name. With a patient knowing grin, she holds out the datapad with the promise of the paperwork you knew would be waiting for you.
Logging in with your chain link, a new message suddenly chimes onto the monitor from an unknown contact.
It contains a coordinates location to Nevarro along with a single message attached.
Stop by whenever, weβll be waiting
Quickly, you start the reports happily accepting your punishment.
After all, there's a flight to Nevarro calling your name.
Relationships: Di Djarin x GN!reader (no physical description other than shorter, but there is a joke in there)
Warnings: some canon violence (attempted strangulation), but otherwise nothing but fluff and flirting.
Summary: Din has something that he wants to tell you, but when Din is involved, nothing is simple and straightforward. Prepare yourself for a road trip!
Word Count: about 3.7k
Written for @burntheedges roll-a-trope challenge.
I chose Din and got a road trip! So please enjoy a trip around the Star Wars universe with our favorite bounty hunter.
I'm mixing my lore up a little- Grogu exists, but is staying with Auntie Peli and The Razor Crest is back! Please forgive my canon inaccuracies.
You watched as Din made the calculations to make the jump to hyperspace, never one to trust the computer to do the calculations for him. He was very old school in that way, steadfastly resolute, and it was one of those qualities that you had always adored about him.
Looking at your relationship from the outside, you must have looked like a strange pair as you traveled the galaxy in his old tin can gunship. Peli, Din's most trusted mechanic, feisty friend-of-sorts, and current baby-sitter to Grogu, had made numerous jokes and even offered you a plasma torch and a power driver to open the beskar to find out more about the person behind the armor as you had set off together.Β
She had confided that she wasn't entirely convinced as to what species he was. You simply hid behind your coy smile because you knew that Din was human, you'd shared enough intimate moments alone with him in the cot on board the Razor Crest to know that on previous trips. Many stolen moments where you had removed his beskar piece by piece, kissed the constellations of scars that littered his battle-worn body, and explored places that few others had. You had never seen his face, but that didn't bother you; your ability to read his gestures and body movements told you everything you needed to know about how he felt about you.
βSo, where are we off to?β You were spinning around in the co-pilot's chair - your chair - right by his side, looking at him as you spoke.
βThought we might take a trip to Rishi,β he said as he continued to crunch numbers into the console. Adept at reading his body language, you noticed a slight shift as he spoke. Your eyes narrowed, slightly.
βWhat are you up to Din Djarin, hmmm?β
The question made him look up, βNothing, cyar'ika.β
You reached out for the holopad on the console, wanting to check your destination. It wasn't the name of a planet you recognized. Scanning through the notes that appeared in front of you, you read it out loud, βA tropical planet in the Outer Rim. What are we going there for?β
βI have some business that I need to take care of.β
This news surprised you, because Din usually shared all of his plans with you - you were a team. Very rarely did he make a decision without you.
βOh, okay,β you said, frowning. βHow long will it take us to get there?β
βOnce we hit the hyperlane, about forty standard hours.β
βOh no,β you deadpanned, with a twinkle in your eye, as you reached across to take his gloved hand in your own bare one. You began to slowly peel the glove from his hand, keeping your eyes trained solely on his visor. βHow are we going to fill the time?β
βCyar'ika,β he growled, βwe haven't taken off yet.β
βToo right,β you replied smugly.
Rishi
You walked down the ramp of the Razor Crest, side by side with the Mandalorian. The ship was resting on a lush, green landing strip just outside of Corataani Town, the main trading center of the planet.Β
The vibrantly green rainforest that sat adjacent to the space port, was teeming with exotic wildlife. You could hear the chatter of the Orobirds that sat high in the trees above the hum of nearby engines.
It was both hot and humid and you were hit by a wall of tropical heat as you descended from the cool belly of durasteel that had been your home for the duration of the trip.
Rishi was not a hostile planet, but Din was always armed and ready. It used to be a hive of pirate activity and there were still reminders of their activities here and there.
βWhere are we headed, D-Mando?β You always struggled to remember his public moniker, especially after spending several days holed up in the Crest together where you had spent so much time whispering his real name reverently over and over again.
He cleared his throat and took his time before replying, βRishi lies on the Manda Merchant Trade Route and has a busy market. I thought you might like a visit. I need you to pick up some more supplies because we have a few more stops after this.βΒ
βWe do?β For the second time in the last few standard days, Din had caught you by surprise.
βWe do,β he confirmed. βLet's divide and conquer. But keep your comlink handy. And keep your eyes peeled for thieves and pirates.β
βAlways,β you said, brightly as he handed you a bag of credits. βHow long will you be?β
βMeet you back here in an hour,β he said, pointing at the town gates.
βIn an hour,β you said over your shoulder as you skipped off to find the marketplace.
Just as you'd hoped, the market was vibrant and exciting. Delicious smells, colorful fruits, luxurious fabrics - the list went on. It was an assault on all of the senses. You strode through with purpose, haggling for supplies for your onward journey, feeling jubilant every time you bartered with a vendor and lowered the price.
Satisfied with your purchases, you made your way out of the market and back towards your meeting point. Because he was easy to pick out in a crowd, Din's absence at the gate was immediately obvious. You panicked a little, it was unlike Din to be late. He was never late.Β
You were juggling too many parcels to reach your comlink, which was safely stowed in your pocket, and so you decided to wait - and hope.
After standing for ten or so minutes, you were seriously starting to think of returning to the space port, because the Trandoshan standing on the opposite side of the gate was starting to take too much interest in you, you caught a glint of silver on the corner of your eye and relaxed.
βReady?β He surveyed the parcels you were struggling to hold on to and lifted a few out of your hands.
βReady,β you affirmed. βNot sure I like the look that guy is giving me.β You raised your eyebrows and nodded in the direction of your observer. Din's head turned to look and the Trandoshan shrank back into the shadows, leaving only his scaly tail visible.
On the walk back to the ship, something felt off. It took you a few minutes to figure out what it was. It lingered in the air, something familiarΒ - it smelled like ozone and carbon. It was definitely blaster fire.
βEverything okay? Have you been in a fight?β
βAll good,β said Din firmly as he lowered the ramp on the Crest, pressing a button on his vambrace, ignoring your second question.
βWhere are we going next?β
βIlum.β
Ilum
As the Razor Crest dropped out of hyperspace, you looked out of the viewport towards the gray planet looming towards you.Β
You pulled your tunic down as you spoke, βWhat's that white swirling pattern in the atmosphere?βΒ
You turned towards Din, who was still half-dressed and didn't look in a great hurry to put his armor back on.
βItβs an ice planet,β he said, turning his head to look for himself. βInhospitable for most species. Would you like to land there?β
You shivered at the thought and doubted that you had enough warm clothes to survive for more than five minutes outside of the spacecraft. βI'd rather stay where it's nice and warm.β
Din just shrugged as he let his flight suit drop back to the floor, βIt's close enough, I suppose. Maybe we should just move on.β
You arched an eyebrow at him, βClose enough to what?β You echoed his words back at him. βMove on to where?β
Din pulled your tunic back over your head, making you squeal as he roughly pulled you in, tugging at the buttons on your pants as he reeled you into his body.
βBut weβve only justβ¦,β you panted as you brushed up against his cold breastplate.
βI'll set a course for Dalna,β he said, walking you backwards towards the pilot's chair, making you forget your other questions.
Dalna
Looking up from the holopad,Β Dalna came into view. It looked interesting shades of green and blue from this vantage point, and you stood up to get a better view. After traveling in hyperspace for around a standard week, seeing a physical planet felt like a small luxury. As much as you loved spending time with Din on the Razor Crest, you needed to stretch your legs and feel a solid planet beneath your feet.
Din dropped into the pilot's seat and casually flipped a few switches to guide the ship towards the planet's surface.
You looked back down at the notes that you were reading, βIt says here that Dalna is agricultural. Do we need anything agricultural?β
βThere are some magnificent waterfalls here and I thoughtβ¦β
Unable to contain your excitement, you jumped out of your seat and caused the holopad to fly out of your lap, where it was deftly caught by Din.
βYes!β You cheered loudly. βI've only ever seen one on the holonet. Yes!β Din gave a small snort of approval and a loud huff as you grabbed him tightly around the waist.
βHow did you remember?β
βI always remember what you tell me, cyar'ika. It's about an hour's walk from here.β
βI could do with stretching my legs and getting some decent exercise.β
He pulled you in tightly and his voice dropped to a gravelly whisper, βAre you saying you aren't getting enough exercise? Do you want more? I can give you more, cyare.β
You fluttered your eyelashes at him, βIβll take as much as you can give. But first, letβs see this cascade of water.β
Din released you from his hold. βMr'sheb,β he whispered as you gathered some belongings together. You wiggled your rear at him as you bent down to tie your boot laces.
The walk through was pleasant, the terrain was gentle and the canopy of trees provided cool shade from the two suns. As you walked, you listened to the symphony of birds in the high-up branches and the rustle of animals running through the undergrowth, reminding you that this forest was a living, breathing thing.
Finally, the woodland began to thin, the air became fresher and cleaner, and the light became brighter. You could hear the roar of the water rushing as you approached the edge of the trees.
And then you stopped in your tracks, staring in wonder at the sight ahead. It was a tumbling, cascading, tumult of water which rumbled down into the plunge pool below. The sun picked out the droplets of spray that bounced back into the air, creating a vibrant rainbow of iridescence which danced around. It took your breath away and you stopped in your tracks as you stared.
βDin,β you said, reaching out to take his hand in yours, βIt's beautiful. Thank youβ
Din said nothing, but simply reciprocated by giving your hand a squeeze whilst he looked at you, as you looked at the magnificent sight ahead.
You both stood in silence and awe, watching and admiring. Finally, Din spoke up, βI think you would stand here forever, but we need to get moving.β
βWe do?β You reluctantly dragged your eyes up to look at his visor.Β
βWe do,β he confirmed. βWe're going to Utapau.β
Utapau
You had been sitting in your chair watching through the viewport as Utapau loomed up on you. This one was unlike the others you had visited so far, consisting of vast stretches of grasslands interspersed with what looked like deep sinkholes, making for an interesting terrain.
βWhere are the inhabitants?β You couldn't see any settlements, just grasslands.
βAll underground,β replied Din, guiding the craft, towards the largest sinkhole, before dropping down inside it. The Razor Crest made a smooth landing on one of the upper level docks just on the fringes.
The walk into the city was a short one, but fascinating. The buildings were carved into the bedrock, with supporting bone structures, making them beautiful and slightly creepy. You also tried not to look down too often, because the eleven levels seemed to go downwards forever and the drop was endless.
βI have to go and meet someone on the trade level. There are plenty of places for you to look at whilst I'm gone.β he didn't look at you as he spoke.
βAgain?β You turned to look at him, searching for any indicators in his body language.Β
βI won't be any longer than necessary. Try to stay out of trouble.β His gloved hand brushed against yours, giving it an almost imperceptible squeeze.
βI think you'll find that I don't go looking for trouble. Trouble finds me.β You hooked your little finger around his, your way of saying goodbye.
βYou have your comlink. Use it if you sense danger.β With those parting words, he moved off on a different trajectory and you watched him move away into the jostling crowds.Β
Slipping your hand into your tunic pocket, there was no sign of your comlink.
"Dank farrik,β you sighed, as you realized it was still sitting on the console in the Crest.Β
Looking around, the shops were bustling with activity and you thought that it would be best to mingle with the crowds rather than stand and wait, you needed new socks anyway.
Browsing around, you found an ancient-looking antique store that looked like it contained a treasure trove of artifacts. And then you found them, lurking in a dark and dusty corner - a set of children's books. You had only encountered books a couple of times in your life - they were rarities because most of the Galaxy preferred flimsiplast, data-tapes or holovids.
Picking them carefully off of the shelf, you turned them over in your hands, wondering if they might fall apart if you turned the pages. You held your breath as you opened the cover of the first book and miraculously, it was complete and intact.
You weren't sure how long you stood there staring at the books, turning them over in your hands, debating with yourself as to whether you could afford to buy them. You only stopped thinking about them when you felt a familiar presence come to rest behind you.
βThey're yours,β said Din, coming to stand close. βPut them in your shoulder bag.β
βSorry? Are you telling me to steal them?β
βNo, Iβve been watching you through the window. You have that dreamy look on your face; it's the same one you have when you watch Grogu sleeping, so I bought them for you.β
βFor me? You bought them? I don't know how to say thank you.β You hugged the books tightly to your chest as though they were as precious as the foundling.
βI can think of a few ways,β he said, leaning in closely as he furtively ran a finger down the curve of your spine. The coarse leather of the glove dragged the fabric with a friction that made your skin tingle.
βBack to the Crest, then?β You surreptitiously pressed your back into his body. βAnd did you sort out whatever it was you needed to do?β
βYes and no,β he replied cryptically, leading you out of the store.
βSo we aren't going home yet?β Your mind wandered to Grogu how much you missed him.
βNot yet, two more stops. Umbara next.β
Umbara
βWhy Umbara, Mando? You walked down the ramp together and into the cityscape.
βWe need to refuel and do some running repairs,β he said as he scanned around looking for a port maintenance hand.
You tutted - The Crest was always in need of repairs and you watched as Din found who he needed and headed off to sort it out.
You caught up with him just as he finished handing over a bag of credits.
βMight take a few hours,β he said. βWe could take a look around.β You reluctantly agreed with him. Ueda was a giant metropolis, nowhere near as beautiful as Utapau nor Dalna. The ships buzzed past in their lanes, sweeping in and out, around the skyscrapers and the bustle reminded you of Coruscant. You followed Dinβs lead and headed into the noise and bustle.
You stopped dead in your tracks when you rounded the next corner- there in front of you was a large statue of an Imperial Admiral which glared down on all he surveyed. It was a stark reminder of those that you'd lost in the name of freedom and it made the bile rise in your throat.
βWas this an Imperial stronghold?β
βLooks like it,β said Din, as he too stared up at the monument. He'd never talked about what he was doing during the years of The Empire, but you knew his allegiances lay elsewhere now.
βYou know how I don't go looking for trouble,β you said, unable to tear your eyes away, βbut how do you like the idea of bringing down that monstrosity?β
Din turned his visor towards you. βYou're serious?β
βDeadly,β you replied as you reached into your bag to find your thermal detonators. βIt's not busy right now. How about we go and plant them and then clear the area?β Without waiting for a response, you both moved towards the statue.
As you approached, you read the plaque at its base βAdmiral Thrawn.β You were going to enjoy this - really enjoy this, and you bent down to lay the charges. Din moved to the position side.
βOi!β You ignored the voice as you set to work.Β
βYou!β The voice rang out again and you looked up to see a large Houk approach your location. He was approaching with his blaster drawn.Β
You stood up slowly, placing your back towards the statue, wondering where Din was.
βI want your weapons. I don't give a mudskuffer's tail about the statue,β he growled, pointing his weapon directly at your chest. Slowly, trying to buy time, you reached for your bag, but before you could do anything, blaster fire rang out. The Houk grabbed you by the throat and pulled you into his body, using you as a shield, pointing his blaster in the direction of the noise. He was so close that the smell of his breath made your stomach roil.
βRelease her or I'll gut you like a burr fish,β growled the deep tones of the vocoder behind you, and you relaxed, knowing that Din was safe and soon you would be too. The Houk just laughed and gripped tighter to your neck, making you gasp for air as you struggled in his hands.Β
Without any further warning, the large hand that was squeezing yours slackened its grip and you collapsed to the ground clutching your throat as your large captor toppled behind you with a heavy thud.
A pair of strong arms lifted you up, hoisting you up into safety. Din ignored the looks from passersby as he walked through the metropolis back towards the port. He flicked the vambrace on his wrist and several of the grenades detonated, causing the statue to topple and crumble. You watched Din's parting gift to Umbara as it hit the floor with a loud crash, plumes of dust, and screaming
βNot going to lose you, cyar'ika,β he grunted as he headed for the Crest on the landing pad. βAre you hurt?β
You shook your head and whispered, βNo. I'm fine.β You watched the lights retreat over his shoulder as he moved swiftly and resolutely towards the docking bay and the safety of his ship.
βGood, then let me take care of you.β
βBut I'm notβ¦ oh,β you said, catching onto his meaning.
As he climbed the ramp, holding you still in his arms, you buried your head in his shoulder and whispered, βLet's get out of here. Where next?β
βRyloth,β came the reply.
Ryloth
Sitting on a rocky outcrop with the sun on your back, you surveyed the landscape before you. You had been on an incredible journey over that last standard month and had seen more in that time than you had over most of your lifetime and experienced dangers across the galaxy. The tropical rainforest stretched out ahead of you, as far as the eye could see.
You didn't think you had encountered a place with as much beauty as this. As much as you loved your little home on the lava flats of Nevarro, it couldn't compare with this.
Behind you, you heard the gentle swish of a cape. His footsteps might be silent, but the breeze could not disguise his advance. You stood up as Din approached, turning to face him.
βMeshla.β
βYes, it is very beautiful here,β you sighed, looking from Din back to the valley behind you.
βNo, I meant you. It's pretty here, but nothing compared to you,β he moved to stand beside you, close enough to feel his presence, his vambrace lightly brushing your arm, and instead of looking at the vista, his visor was trained on you.
βHaven't you worked it out yet?β He sounded amused. Din rarely did amused, or games. He had no patience for riddles or puzzles.
βI-I don't understand what you mean, Din,β you said.Β
βThink about all of the places that we have visited. Where have we been?β He was amused by your confusion.Β
You looked at the beskar helmet. βWe've been to Rishi, Ilum, Dalna, Utapau, Umbara, and now we are standing on the surface of Ryloth.β You recited each planet on your fingers as you recounted your journey.
Suddenly, the tempo of your heart increased as you worked through the answer.
βOh. Oh,β you said, clapping your hand over your mouth in realization. βIf-if I take the first letter of each planet, it spells R-I-D-U-U-R.βΒ
It was an important word and its significance was not lost on you. You knew what it meant, of course. Din had told you that one day he would ask you to take the vow with him.
βRiduur. Partner,β you whispered, closing your eyes for a moment as you let the truth sink in. A tear pricked at the corner of your eye and your heart was hammering so hard in your chest that you thought that it might burst through your ribcage.Β
Din, who had been watching you closely during your revelation, finally spoke. His vocoder sounded hoarse, βRiduur. If you will say the vows with me?β
βDin!β You gasped. βKriff! That is one hell of a proposal. How could I ever turn you down after that? But here? Now?β
βCan't think of anywhere better,β he said, clasping your hand in his and turning to face you. βMandalorian's can make their riduurok wherever, whenever. If you want to?β His last words were softly spoken and gentle. He opened his gloved palm to show you a silvery, delicate looking chain, adorned with a mudhorn pendant - the sign of his clan. Now, your clan.
βA beskar pedant,β he said, βas a symbol of my commitment to you. To us. I acquired the beskar in Rishi and had the pendant made on Utapau. The Armorer is more skilled, but there wasn't time to return to Mandalore.β
He had done this for you - all of it for you. You raised yourself up, placing your free hand upon the side of his helmet, roughly where you imagined his cheek to be and stroked the cold armor with your thumb, looking into the t-shaped visor.Β
Pressing your forehead against the top of his helmet, you whispered, βI am ready, riduur.β
Cyar'ika - darling
Mr'sheb - smart ass
Riduur - spouse
Meshla - beautiful
Author's Note: well done if you figured it our before the end.
βand there was something about you, that now I can't rememberβ
pairing: dr. ryland grace x fem! reader
summary: you signed up to save the world, not work with the person you can't stand. ryland grace is the reason why you lost all credibility in academia. he is the reason why you can't do your research in peace. yet he's also the reason you get butterflies.
wc: 7.3k
cross-posted to ao3
tags & warnings: mdni please! angst & fluff. enemies to lovers. slow burn. reader is lowk mean af. black cat! gf x golden retreiver! bf.
recommended listening: about you - the 1975
part two coming may 3rd @ 6PM cst graduating college this weekend, so it might be delayed <3
It was just another day.
You were in the lab, suited up, testing materials for space applications. As an aerospace engineer specializing in energy and fuel systems, your work should have felt groundbreaking. It didnβt.
You carefully placed thin samples of aerogel into a vacuum chamber, monitoring their thermal response under cryogenic conditions. Liquid nitrogen cycled through the system, pushing the material to extremes while sensors tracked heat transfer and structural stability.Β
On paper, it was fascinating work. In reality, you hated your job.
You have a doctorate in aerospace engineering from a prestigious university. You specialize in energy systems, making you one of the few women in your field. You have connected with impressive names in the aerospace community. NASA practically waved you a job offer fresh out of undergrad. You had spent more hours in research than you had sleeping. The pay was good. Good enough to indulge in your hobbies, but none of it mattered. You were the only woman on your team, constantly undermined, constantly handed the worst tasks, and you were the youngest person in the building by a long shot.
No one took you seriously.
You had taken this job believing you would do something meaningful with your life. Instead, you felt like you were slowly wasting away. Youβre ready to go home, heat up leftovers, and cuddle with your cat, Atom. It was 5:00 PM. You were quick to clean up your work space and remove your personal protective equipment.
You packed your bag, ready to leave, when a woman approached you. She was elegant. She is dressed in black, contrasting from her beautiful, red hair.
βGood evening, Doctor,β she said with a soft smile.
Doctor. You hadnβt been addressed like that in a long time.
βMy name is Eva Stratt. Iβm part of the Petrova Task Force.β
βHello, Eva,β you replied cautiously. βIf youβre looking for the chief engineer or my supervisor, they just left.β
You reached for your keys, but something about her steady gaze made you hesitate.
βIβm actually here for you,β she said, setting a thick stack of papers on the table. It had to have been at least a stack of one hundred pages. You skim over the title and immediately, your eyes widen.
"Bioenergetic Systems for High-Efficiency Energy and Fuel Storage in Spacecraft Propulsion."
Your name sat neatly beneath the title. It was your research thesis that you were profoundly proud of until it became your stack of regrets. It investigated bioinspired energy storage sources that could outperform traditional chemical storage systems used in spacecraft today. It was something you believed in.
You hadnβt thought about that paper in years. Mostly because no one else had believed in it. Not after everything that happened. Not after the fallout with a certain scientist. A scientist that makes your blood boil and heart hurt at the thought of him. .
βI havenβt looked at that in years,β you said carefully. βAnd Iβm not sure if youβre aware, butβ¦ it didnβt exactly win awards. If anything, I was ridiculed because of my association withββ
You cut yourself off. Thinking about him still made your chest tighten, anger simmering just beneath the surface.
Eva didnβt react.
βDonβt worry,β she said calmly. βIβm not here to discuss what happened then. Iβm here to offer you a new position.β
You let out a small, humorless laugh. New Position? Give up your dream role for some random lady thatβs digging up the past. You were blessed to even land this role despite your reputation.
βUnless you can pay me double what I make now or somehow let me save the world from its inevitable doomβ¦ Iβm going to have to decline.β
Eva held your gaze.
βWhat if I told you,β she said carefully, βthat you could do exactly that?β
You felt something change in your heart for the first time in a long time. You felt hope.
βOkay, so when do I start, and can someone watch my cat?β
ββββ β¦ ββββΒ
The lab Eva led you into was nothing like yours.
It was cleaner, quieter. Not to mention the tighter security. Every surface gleamed like it had been scrubbed of mistakes. You feel giddy, thinking about all of the new equipment you get to work with.
You stepped inside anyway, and then you saw him.
Ryland Grace stood on the other side of the room, hunched over a workstation, mumbling to himself as he pipettes black matter into petri dishes. Heβs focused, unaware of you or Stratt entering the lab. He looked the same. Maybe a little more tired. A little more worn down. Unfortunately, still very handsome.
Your stomach dropped.
No.
You turned immediately, hand already reaching for the door.
βAbsolutely not.β
βDoctorββ Eva started.
βNo,β you snapped, sharper than you realized. βYou didnβt tell me he was here.β
At the sound of your voice, Ryland froze. He recognizes your voice immediately. The power it can command in a room. Slowly, he turned around. For a moment, neither of you spoke.
His eyes widened, like he wasnβt entirely sure you were real.
β...You?β he said quietly.
There it was the same hesitation that had driven you insane years ago.
You let out a short, humorless laugh. βYeah. Me.β
You moved to leave again, but Eva stepped slightly into your path to prevent you from leaving.
βWe need both of you,β she said calmly.
βI donβt need him,β you shot back.
Ryland flinched. Of course he did.
Eva didnβt react. βThis project involves a form of extraterrestrial microorganism.β
There it goes. Your interest is piqued. Something groundbreaking, meaningful that can prove you can make a positive impact on this world.
βYou specialize in bioenergetic systems,β she continued. βHe specializes in the organism itself. Separately, you are useful. Together, you are essential.β
You clenched your jaw. βCan you find someone else?β
βThere is no one else.β
Silence stretched between the three of you. Ryland is bouncing in his chair, the anxiety obviously consuming him.Β
Behind Eva, Ryland shifted awkwardly, like he wanted to say something but couldnβt quite get there. Typical.
βI thought academia chewed you up and spit you out.,β you muttered, not looking at him.
You closed your eyes for a second, irritation flaring.
God, he was still the same. Still self-deprecating. Still unsure. Stillβ
βI read your paper again,β he added suddenly.
βWhat?β
βThe bioenergetics one,β he said, taking a hesitant step closer. βIt wasβ¦ it was really good. Actually brilliant. I shouldβve said that back then.β
The memory hit whether you wanted it to or not. The conference. The room was full of people. Grace, laughing nervously, deflecting, making a joke at the wrong time. You remember. He called someone a waste of carbon. It was true, but your credibility depended on Grace maintaining professionalism. You devoted your life to this research, but you did what any good person would do. You stayed by his side because he wasnβt just your colleague but he was also your friend. Someone who you cared for deeply. Standing beside him as the room turned on both of you.
Your work was dismissed. Your credibility dragged down with his.
Eva didnβt seem to pay too much attention to the tension in the room. If anything, it entertained her.
βThe astrophage can store and release energy at efficiencies we do not fully understand,β she said, cutting cleanly through the moment. βPotentially enough to solve a global energy crisis. Or end us, if we fail to understand it.β
You didnβt respond, but you also didnβt leave.
βOkay, Iβm staying. Only because I want to save the world.β
ββββ β¦ ββββΒ
Despite the large size of the lab, you feel very suffocated. It might be because of Rylandβs hovering. For every step you take away from him, he takes two steps closer to you.
βDo you always stand that close,β you mutter, not looking at him, βor is this a special occasion?β
He immediately takes a step back. βRight. Personal space. I remember that. I respect that. Big fan of space, actually professionally andβ¦ sociallyβ¦ and actual space is coolβ¦β
You glance at him, unimpressed and a little annoyed. βGood. Stay in it.β You wave your hand at him to move just a bit more.Β He awkwardly shifts to the side, still watching you work.
ββ¦You look the same,β he blurts.Β
Slowly, you turn your head. βWhat?β
βI panicked,β he admits. βWhen I look at you, my brain justββ he makes a vague exploding motion with his hands. ββexplodes.β
βHmmβ¦ Okay....β
You turn back to the screen, typing away at your findings.
He winces. βOkay, deserved.β
Silence settles for a moment, broken only by the faint hum of equipment.
βSo,β he says cautiously, βbiomatter that can survive vacuum and extreme radiation. Thatβsβ¦ new since I last saw you.β
βYeah,β you reply flatly. βTurns out when your reputation gets dragged through the mud, you either quit academia or get better.β
Another stab to Ryland.Β
βRight. Still deserved.β
You pull up a thermal output graph, tapping the screen. βAstrophage stores energy at absurd densities. Way beyond anything weβve modeled. The question is how it regulates release without destabilizing or you know kaboom.β You make an explosion using your hands, earning a small smile from Ryland.
Ryland leans in again, but slower, like approaching a wild animal. Heβs afraid that in any second, you might take a bite at him.
βIt migrates toward radiation,β he says, slipping into science mode. βLike itβs feeding, but it alsoβuhβself-regulates temperature somehow. I think.βΒ
βInterestingβ¦ because if this thing is even half as efficient as it looks, weβre either looking at the greatest energy breakthrough in historyβ¦ or something that cooks the planet.β You say, scrolling through the graph. Youβre honestly in awe, working with Ryland again. Heβs smart, but his issue is he just doesnβt believe himself.
βOptimistic as always,β he mumbles.
βRealistic,β you correct. βSomeone has to be.β
He glances at you, hesitant. βYou used to believe in things more.β
You stop typing. Slowly, you turn to face him fully now.
βI used to believe in you,β you say. If Ryland listened closely, he would be able to hear the underlying tone of sadness underneath your sharpness.Β
He goes still and scratches the back of his head.
βI know,β he says quietly. βThatβsβ¦ kind of the problem.β
You hold his gaze for a second longer than you should. Then you break it, turning back to the screen. You used to believe in Ryland. Honestly, a part of you still does, but you canβt give him that satisfaction yet. There is something so brilliant about Ryland, you just wish he could see it sometimes. The fact that he doesnβt makes you more annoyed than anything else.Β Β
βAlright,β you say briskly. βIf youβre done spiraling, explain this to me.β
You point to another graph. βWhy doesnβt it overload?β
He blinks, thrown off by the sudden shift. βOhβuhβokay, yeah. Good question. We think it converts energy into some kind ofβlikeβtemporary mass storage? Orβ¦ not mass. Something else. I donβt know yet.β
You stare at him.
βYou donβt know,β you state.
βNot in a satisfying, publishable way, no,β he says. βIn a βI stayed up for 36 hours and this is my best guessβ way? Yes.β
You sigh. βRight.β
βHey,β he says, a little defensive now, βIβm working with alien space microbes, not a lab manual.β
Your anger starts to bubble, and you can't find a way to contain it. See this is why you were concerned about working with him again.
βRyland, you know what your problem has always been?,β you shoot back. βYou donβt believe in yourself. You have terrible imposter syndrome, and it makes it so hard for people to believe in you when you canβt even believe in yourself.β
You can't believe Strava thinks you two can actually be productive. You can't even listen to Ryland breathe without being a little pissed off. How are you two supposed to get any work done?
βWe could have this figured out sooner if you actually took yourself seriously.β
Ryland pauses. He knows youβre right. He has nothing to defend himself over. Then a small, reluctant smile tugs at his mouth.
ββ¦Youβre still really mean,β he says nervously.
You feel a tinge of guilt. Maybe you have been too hard on Ryland, but you have to. You have to guard yourself from disappointment.Β
ββ¦Not without reason,β you say more quietly, eyes dropping back to the screen. βAnd notβ¦ intentionally.β
He studies you for a moment, like heβs trying to decide whether to push your buttons or let it go.
βWhen have you ever done anything unintentionally?β he asks.
You huff out a small breath. βPlease. Iβm extremely intentional.β
You sigh, dropping your head in your hands.
βGod, youβre insufferable.β
βAnd yet,β he said, a hint of a smile in his voice, βyouβre still sitting here.β
You smirked despite yourself. βDonβt flatter yourself. Iβm here for the alien space bacteria.β
You clear your throat, leaning back in your chair. βYouβre lucky the world might be ending,β you add. βOtherwise I wouldnβt be within a ten-mile radius of you.β
Ryland raises his eyebrows, a bit amused. βWow,β he says. βThatβs sweet.β
You roll your eyes, but your lips twitch into a smile. βDonβt get used to it.β
βToo late,β he replies, a little too quickly. Then, softer, βI think I missed this.β
You raise an eyebrow. βMiss what? Me insulting you?β
ββ¦Yeah,β he says, meeting your eyes. βA little.β
βGrace, thatβs really weird.β
βI.. I know.β
ββββ β¦ ββββΒ
βSo why do you hate Dr. Grace so much?β Carl asks from his booth while you hover over the microscope, carefully adjusting the focus to look at your little astrophage babies.
The astrophage glows faintly under the lens. You smile to yourself, imagining theyβre all saying Hi Mama. Youβve spent hours stabilizing this batch, coaxing them into reproduction like theyβre something delicate instead of potentially world-ending.Β
βOkay, Atomβ¦ donβt embarrass me,β you murmur, sliding the petri dish back with careful hands.
Carl watches you, amused. βYou named it.β
βI name all of them,β you reply, matter-of-fact. βI am their mother, and it keeps me from going crazy in here.β
Carl doesnβt really understand what you mean, and instead just stares at you in confusion.
βI donβt hate him,β you say finally, leaning back against the counter. βI donβt hate anyone.β
Carl raises an eyebrow but doesnβt interrupt.
βDr. Grace and I go back,β you continue. βWay back.β
You cross your arms, staring at nothing in particular as old memories try to organize themselves into something coherent. Honestly, the more you think about it, the more youβve realized that you forgot really the main point of why youβre so angry at Ryland. Sure, you have tons of small reasons, but you canβt seem to remember the big why
βWe were both working on our PhDs at the same time at the same university. Same building, just a couple of floors apart. Same conferences. Same rooms where everyone was trying to prove they were the smartest person alive.β You huff a quiet laugh.
You push yourself off the counter, pacing slowly.
βI believed in him,β you admit. βEven when his research sounded insane. βLife without waterβ? Most people wrote it off immediately. But he didnβt. He stood by it. He was willing to die on that hill.β You stop, softer now. βAnd I admired that. A lot.β
You glance back at Carl.
βEspecially because I didnβt have that kind of confidence. I was the youngest doctoral candidate in the program. Every room I walked into, I had to prove I deserved to be there.β You shrug slightly. βAnd then there was himβ¦ just existing in his own lane. He fought for what he believed in.β
Carl nods slowly. βSo what changed?β
You hesitate because thatβs the part that never comes out clean. Youβve been clouded by so much anger in the past that this part gets a little bit fuzzy.
βThat conference,β you say finally. βHeβ¦ said something. To the wrong people. Suddenly, everything tied to himβhis work, his collaboratorsβbecame a joke. He was really hell bent on his ideas and it got to the point where he was willing to put his reputation on the line.β
Your jaw tightens slightly. βI was one of those collaborators.β
βYeah,β you mutter. βOuch.β
You run a hand through your hair, exhaling.
βI know I come off as bitter. Or like a bitch,β you add bluntly. βBut itβs not about hating him. Itβs about protecting myself.β
You look back at the incubator, watching the faint glow inside.
βI canβt let Grace make a fool out of me again.β
Carl leans back in his chair, considering that. βSo youβre justβ¦ petty?β
You shoot him a look. βWow, Carl. You really woke up and chose violence today.β
You hold your hands up in defense. βScientists donβt get a lot,β you say after a moment. βOur work is everything. Our reputation is everything. Without that, weβre justβ¦ people who spent too many years in school with nothing to show for it.β
You wait a moment, then add more quietly. βAnd I almost became that. Just some idiot with too much knowledge and nothing to do with it.β
βI mean, look at him,β you continue, trying to lighten your tone again. βHe got pushed out so far he ended up teaching middle school science.β
Carl chuckles, but you immediately point at him and shake your head firmly.
βHeyβdonβt laugh. That was actuallyβ¦ good for him.β
Carl blinks. βWhat?β
You sigh.
βAny other egotistical academic wouldβve spent years trying to claw their way back into the spotlight. But Rylandβ¦β you shake your head slightly, a small, reluctant smile tugging at your mouth. βHe stopped. He found something he actually cared about.β
Carl studies you more closely now. Itβs apparent youβve grown soft in the conversation. Yes, you were driven by anger, but now itβs different.
βIt wasnβt about validation anymore,β you continue. βIt wasnβt about impressing people who think being the smartest person in the room is a personality trait.β
You glance down at your hands.
ββ¦He was happy, and thatβs really cool he found fulfillment there. I canβt even say I was happy before I came here. I hated my job.β
Carl leans forward slightly. β...So what?.. Do you still care about him?β
βIββ you start, then stop, shaking your head like you can physically push the thought back.
βI do,β you admit quietly. βI just try not to.β
Carl doesnβt say anything this time. He listens intently, letting you have your moment with your emotions. Itβs clear to him you havenβt spoken about this much. Carl also has a very therapeutic aura to him that makes it easy for people to talk to him.
βAfter everything that happened,β you continue, voice a little tighter now, βit was hard for me to get taken seriously. My name got tied to his, whether it was fair or not. Interviews went cold. Offers disappeared. People smiled at my face and then questioned me behind closed doors.β
Your fingers tap absently against the counter. Your foot anxiously bounces your knee. Youβre trying to find the right words, but maybe there are no right words.
βAnd the worst part isβ¦ I donβt even know if Iβm still angry at him for that.β
Carl frowns slightly. βWhat do you mean?β
You shake your head.
βI mean I remember being angry. I remember being humiliated. I remember telling myself Iβd never let him anywhere near my work again.β You let out a small, frustrated laugh. βBut why? The exact moment everything broke? Itβsβ¦ fuzzy.β
You look back at the incubator.
At Atom and all of the other little cultures of astrophage.Β
ββ¦All I know is that when I see him,β you say quietly, βI feel like I have to be angry.β
βBecause if Iβm notββ Your mind begins to trail off.
Carl raises an eyebrow. βIf youβre notβ¦?β
You shake your head, cutting yourself off before you can finish the thought.
ββ¦Then I might forgive him,β you say. You start to feel a little bit of regret. A little bit guilty for holding onto this grudge for so long, but youβre scared of disappointment again. Even now youβre scared something might go wrong with Project Hail Mary, and your name will go down with it.
βHave you ever considered a therapistβ¦?β Carl asks. You shake your head and laugh at him.
βWhy would I need one if I have you, Carl.β
ββββ β¦ ββββΒ
A few hours pass, Carl is now long gone, and itβs just you alone in the lab. Youβre starting to think youβve hit the thousands in terms of hours spent in this lab. You could be blindfolded and still be able to perform any procedure. Thatβs how well youβve gotten to know the space.
You donβt notice him at first. Youβre too focused on your cultures. Atom and the rest of the Astrophage cultures behaving exactly the way theyβre supposed to, and now youβre trying to figure out the best material to keep them in that would allow them to survive the journey to space.Β
Then you feel it. A slight shift in the room. There is a quiet, hesitant presence youβd recognize anywhere.
You donβt look up.
ββ¦Youβre hovering,β you say flatly.
A pause.
βIβm standing,β Ryland Grace replies.
You adjust the microscope slightly. βIt feels like hovering.β
Another pause.
ββ¦Okay, yeah. I might be hovering.β
You sigh, leaning back just enough to glance at him.
He looks nervous. Not awkward in his usual way. Not distracted or rambling. Just nervous. You canβt predict what heβs going to say. You canβt predict anything about him actually.
βWhat do you want, Grace?β you ask.
He shifts his weight slightly, hands fidgeting at his sides before he shoves them into his pockets.
βI wanted to talk to you,β he says.
βThatβs new,β you mutter.
βI deserve that,β he admits immediately.
You straighten, crossing your arms. βOkay. Talk.β
He exhales slowly, like heβs been holding that breath for a while.
βI feel like this is a step needed to better our working relationship. I never really gave you what you deserve. Iβve been thinking about it a lot lately, and well, I also spoke to Carl. Carl told meββ
βOkay, so are you going to get to the point or?β
βIβm sorry. I am truly sorry. With everything in my body, I am sorry.β
βOhβ¦β You bite your tongue from saying anything else. You would hate to say something you will regret. You sit quietly for a second, trying to quiet all the anger in your brain.
Ryland stands close to you, fiddling with his thumbs. He look as though heβs holding his breath until you respond because his face is starting to look a little blue.Β
βI thought if I justβ¦ removed myself, it would make things better for everyone else,β he continues. βLike distancing myself would somehow undo the damage.βΒ
βIt actually just dug a bigger hole for myself, and I couldnβt get out of itβ¦β
βI know, and Iβm sorry about that too. Iβm sorry for everything. Embarrassing you and ruining your reputation alongside mine,β he tries his best to keep his voice steady and mind from trailing off.
You look up at Ryland. The guilt is clearly eating him from the inside out.Β You take a deep breath in. Itβs time to let go. For once, feel something other than mad.Β
β...I was angry at you for a long time,β you say finally. βI built my career back up from that mess. I had to become someone who couldnβt be undermined again.β
βI want to fix what I can now.βΒ
You relax, just a little. You didnβt realize your fists were balled up tight enough to leave imprints of your nails in your palms.Β
βI donβt know how to not be angry at you. There is just something about you...,β you admit, more quietly now.
He nods in agreement.
βThatβs fair.β
You huff a breath, shaking your head slightly. βYouβre making this very difficult.β
βIβm trying not to,β he says.
ββ¦But,β you add reluctantly, βI donβt think I want to keep being this mad forever.βΒ
βYeah?β he asks. A wave of relief washes over Ryland. You can finally see the color come back to his cheeks.
You nod slightly.
βYeah.β
You shift your weight, leaning back against the counter now instead of bracing yourself against it.
βI donβt need some big apology speech,β you add. βI just needed you toβ¦ acknowledge it and not pretend it didnβt happen.β
Ryland suddenly sticks his hand out to you. You are a bit confused on why he wants to shake hands on it.
ββ¦What are you doing?β you ask.
βIβmβuhβmaking it official?β he says, like even he isnβt entirely sure.
You raise an eyebrow. βOfficial what?β
He hesitates. Then, slowly, his hand shifts. His fingers curl in until only his pinky is extended.
You stare at it.
ββ¦Are you serious right now?β
βA pinky promise is legally binding in at least three middle schools,β he says, completely straight-faced.
You canβt help it. You laugh. What starts out as a few chuckles turns into full body laughs before you can stop it.
βYouβre ridiculous,β you say, shaking your head.
βExtremely,β he agrees.
But he doesnβt drop his hand. He just waits. Thereβs something oddly sincere about it.Β
You hook your pinky around his.
βAnd I pinky promise,β he says, a little quieter now, like the joke has settled into something more real, βI wonβt let that happen again.β
Your fingers tighten slightly around his.
βAnd I promise,β you reply, glancing up at him, βto be less of an ass.β
A small smile spreads across his face.
βWhat if I were to tell you,β he says, tilting his head slightly, βI didnβt mind it?β
You slowly let go of his finger and pull it back to yourself.
βGraceβ¦ thatβs still really weird.β
βI.. I know.β
ββββ β¦ ββββΒ
Weeks have passed since you were assigned to work with Ryland. The hours slipped by unnoticed. At some point, the world outside stopped mattering entirely. It felt like the lab was just a secret place for only you and Ryland.
It mightβve been weeks on working with the astrophage. The clock is ticking, but you and Ryland donβt lose hope. Ryland has seen parts of you, heβs never seen and vice versa. The way you mumble equations and theories when you sleep, or how he sings to himself when heβs deep in focus.
You are leaning over the console, eyes tired but sharp, fingers moving on instinct as the Astrophage model pulsed in front of you. Itβs brighter now, steadier.
βRun it again,β you murmured. βWith the adjusted input.β
βI am,β Ryland Grace said, voice rough with exhaustion, but there was something else there too. Focus. Awe. βJustβgive it a second.β
The curve aligned. Energy in. Energy stored. Energy released. Balanced perfectly.
Your breath caught. βRylandβ¦β
βI see it,β he said, softer now.
You both leaned in at the same time, shoulders brushing. This time neither of you even noticed. You grab his hand covering the mouse and drag it over to increase the model size. Ryland notices this touch instantly and tries to hide his nerves. He hasnβt been touched in such a long time.Β
βItβs stabilizing itself,β you said. βThe astrophage is not losing energy randomly. I-Itβs regulating it. Like it knowsβHoly shitβ
Ryland looks at you. Not the screen. Not the data. You.
For a moment, the breakthrough wasnβt the thing that made his chest feel too tight. It was you.
The way your eyes lit up when you were excited. The way your voice beamed when you were thinking through something brilliant. The way you leaned into the problem without hesitation or fear. The way you get a bit snappy and mean when youβre hungry.Β
You had always been like this, and he always enjoyed watching it.
You rise out of your chair, stumbling over because you lost sensation in your legs after sitting in a chair for hours. Ryland catches your arm, balancing you. You look into his eyes and smile. A childish grin is on your face, and your eyes look a bit crazed. It might be a delusion from lack of sleep but youβre so excited. Almost instinctively, Ryland nervously hugs you. Heβs surprised to feel you hug him back. You couldnβt contain your excitement.
ββ¦We did it,β he said, almost like he needed to remind himself.
You smiled, a real one. Not sharp or guarded. A real genuine smile. One that he hasnβt seen from you in a long time.
βYeah, but alsoβ¦,β you said. β...you did.β
His heart stuttered. You realize how youβre holding onto him, and you immediately let go. Ryland wished you didnβt though. It felt right.Β
βI just realized somethingβ¦,β he started, leaning forward slightly like he was about to give a lecture to a room of middle schoolers. β... an easier way to explain all of this.β
You blinked. He's going to try to teach it to you like you're a middle schooler. βOh no...β
βIf I were teaching right now,β he continued, βI would say Astrophage is basically likeβ¦ a microscopic solar-powered submarine.β
You blinked. βThat is not what it is.β
βYes, it is.β
βNo, it isnβt.β
βIt absorbs energy like sunlight,β he said, counting on his fingers, βit stores it, and then it moves through space using that energy. Thatβs a submarine. Justβ¦ space submarine.β
He gives you a smile and a thumbs up as if this was a bigger revelation than your research, and you just look back with a straight face.Β
βA space submarineβ¦ that is the most oversimplified explanation Iβve ever heard in my life,β you said, trying to bite back your slight annoyance.
βThis is a metaphor, not a peer-reviewed paper.β
You stared at him. You feel a twinge on irritation. Not enough to get you mad, but enough to make your vein pop out of your forehead.
Then he adds, βItβs like if a plant and a battery had a really weird baby.β
You look at him for a beat. He's ridiculous. Truly and utterly ridiculous. Then you burst into a fit of laughter. Youβre clutching your stomach and slamming your fist against the table. You might be delirious right now from the lack of sleep, but you just canβt believe him.
"A weird babyβ¦β you repeated, tears collecting in your eyes from laughing so hard. "That's so stupid?"
βI donβt know how I wasnβt fired by the Board of Education,β Ryland shrugs. βI guess it worked on them.β
βYou know,β he said after a moment, softer now, βI used to do that all the time. Making things easier to understand.βΒ
βAs much as I make fun of you for being an absolute nerd, I donβt think I can fully make fun of you for being a teacher.β
Ryland is surprised, seeing a glimpse of vulnerability in you. βWait really?β
βI think itβs cool. I bet the kids loved you. Youβre weird. I think kids like that. You make learning less scary for them. There's just something about you.β
ββ¦Yeah?β he asked quietly.
βYeah,β you said.
Itβs probably five in the morning. You couldnβt see the sky, but your body knew. That strange, internal certainty that the night had nearly given up and the world outside was about to start moving again.Β
βI think we both need rest,β you said quietly, finally leaning back from the console.
You turned toward him.
Ryland Grace looked worse than you did. Hair a mess, eyes heavy, and posture slouched like gravity had doubled overnight. But he also looked different. Lighter, somehow. Like something in him had unclenched without him realizing it.
You reach out to him before you fully think it through.
βHeyββ he started.
You took his glasses off his face.
βDonβt worry,β you said quickly, already smiling faintly. βIβm just cleaning them.β You chuckle, waving them around in front of him before taking a cloth out of your pocket to clean it off.
Before you give them back, you take a good look at Ryland. Youβve never realized how handsome he is now. He was always cute in a nerdy kind of way, but now he looks wiser and aged. The soft lines at the corners of his eyes from years of laughing despite everything. The deeper crease in his forehead that didnβt come from age alone, but from constant worry. The slight tension in his jaw.
Your chest feels warm by being so close to Ryland. You step closer, sliding his glasses back onto his face. You take your index finger and push his glasses up his nose.Β
He is focused on your movements. If he looks away, heβs worried heβll miss it. Heβll miss you. Something he didnβt want to lose again.
You leaned in slightly. Letting gravity do the work. Ryland didnβt move away. He just stares at you in awe. If they could, his glasses would fog from the heat in his face. Your chest tightened as you realized he was close enough now that you could feel his breath if you focused.
Close enough that the world outside the lab stopped existing properly.
His voice dropped. βIβm trying not to mess this up.β
βI know,β you whispered.
There was an unmistakable spark that made your stomach flipped and your thoughts briefly stopped making sense. His hand moved slightly on the table. Almost touching you.
You saw it happen like it was happening in slow motion. You slowly lean in, breath heavy. For a second, there was nothing else. The world isnβt ending. There is no mission, or lab, or past mistakes. Just the space closing between you like it had been waiting for this exact moment.
Your eyes fluttered down. He hesitates for a second before closing his. Your lips were hovering over his, only a small push needed to bring you together. It felt like it was about to happen.
Like it should happen. Like it was inevitable.
Reality snapping back in. Both of you stopped instantly, breath catching at the same time. Ryland pulls away quickly.
βI think this is the first time youβ¦β
You made a move on Ryland?
β...didnβt make fun of me for five whole minutes.β Ryland says with a small smile. You shake your head and give him a small push on the shoulder.
βWell, if youβre going to sit there smug, I am going to go to sleep.β You walk towards the door, stretching your arms.
βHey.β
You waited at the doorway. βYeah?β
βIβm sorry,β he said, βI donβt know what Iβm apologizing for really. Iβm just sorry.β
You look at him for a long moment and give him a small smile. You didnβt realize how sensitive Ryland is to your emotions since your pinky promise, and youβve realized you need to do a better job at letting him know youβre not upset anymore.
βItβs okay, Ryland. You don't need to apologize,β you stop for a moment, looking at him sincerely, βDonβt lose sleep over it.β
ββββ β¦ ββββΒ
There is no better way to celebrate a breakthrough like a βWe are sending you off to dieβ party. It sounds grim in theory, but the camaraderie masks the underlying feeling of dread on the ship.
βHey, Ryland.β
βY-Yes,β he says, a little too quickly, eyes flicking to your hand as you hold it out to him.
βCome dance with me.β
That makes his brain short-circuit. You want to dance with him?Β
Around you, the crew is still celebrating. The room is filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and crew members singing karaoke. The mission is far from over, but for tonight, everyone is taking a moment to celebrate as they prepare to send people off to save the world.
You feel the stare of other crew members as you grab Rylandβs hands. You donβt care. You tug him gently before he has time to overthink it.
βIβwaitββ Ryland Grace starts, but heβs already on his feet, slightly off balance as he follows you.
βWow,β you say, glancing down at his hands once youβve got him in front of you. βYouβre really sweaty.β
βIβm nervous,β he blurts out immediately. βLast time I danced wasβuhβwhen I chaperoned Homecoming, and I definitely stepped on someoneβs feet, and they yelled, and Iββ
βRyland.β
He stops.
You press your finger against his lips. βShhh.β
His mouth stays closed. He nods once like youβve given him very serious instructions.
βJust follow my lead,β you say.
Ryland is stiff under your touch, unsure of what to do. He doesnβt want to mess it up. His shoulders are tight, legs are locked, and his hands are hovering like heβs afraid of doing something wrong just by existing near you.Β His eyes are focused on your feet, making sure he doesn't step on your toes.
βYou can put your hands on my waist. I wonβt bite,β you joke, guiding his hands to your waist.
The sound of Stratt singing fills the space around you. Sheβs soft, melodic while singing The Sign of the Times. The song is a bit ironic. Itβs like she understands the value of pretending, for a moment, that things can be normal.Β
You rest your head on his chest, humming the song to yourself. Ryland finally relaxes. Youβre not going anywhere, and it causes him to finally give into the moment. He gains the confidence to give you a spin, and you laugh as he twirls you over and over again. He actually doesnβt know when to stop.
You balance yourself on him, getting a bit dizzy. You look into his deep, blue eyes and laugh to see how perplexed he is in this happy moment. You lean your head close to his, getting on your toes to see him eye to eye. Your forehead is resting on his.
His hands tensed at your waist, like his body didnβt know whether to pull you closer or freeze completely.Β
You closed the last bit of space between you two, capturing his lips with yours. The kiss is soft and intentional. Youβre spilling all of the emotions youβve built up for him at this moment. Ryland melts. He pulls you closer, hands practically squeezing your waist.Β
He pulls away just for a moment to catch his breath. Ryland is running hot, face flushed. You laugh, just happy to be in this moment with him.
ββ¦Youβre really warm,β he murmurs against your lips, like itβs an observation he didnβt mean to say out loud.
You let out a quiet laugh. βThatβs usually how humans work.β
β...And youβre soft.β
βOkay, letβs get back to dancing.β
You steal another kiss from Ryland. A kiss that seals just how much you've grown to care for him.
ββββ β¦ ββββΒ
Red strobes washed through the corridor windows. People were running. There are too many voices at once. People yelling. People crying. Somewhere outside the reinforced glass, the Astrophage containment field had failed. First, there was a boom of light. Then there was an explosion, smoke clouds swallowing everything nearby the site. It was too bright, too real, too final. Even through reinforced observation panels, the shockwave rippled through structures like the building itself had flinched.
You donβt move. Only the sick drop in your stomach when you realized how close the testing bay was.
One thought was frantic enough to overshadow any other thought in your head.
Ryland.
Ryland Grace
You were already running before your brain caught up.
You pushed through a cluster of officials, barely hearing them protest, barely feeling the impact of your own body moving too fast. The air still smelled faintly of burned insulation when you reached the inner corridor.Β
You run outside the building. You see Ryland. A little unsteady, hair disheveled, face pale like heβd seen the same flash you had and understood it differently.Β You grabbed him hard enough that he stumbled back a step, caught off guard completely. He softens, immediately wrapping his arms around your neck. He buries his nose in your hair, smelling traces of smoke buried in your scalp.
βI thought you were in it,β you said, voice breaking before you could stop it. βI saw the blast and Iβ I thoughtββ
βIβm here,β he said quickly, softer now. βIβm here. Iβm okay.β
His fingers moved through your hairβslow, grounding, like he was trying to convince your body before your mind could catch up.
βYouβre shaking,β he murmured.
βIβm fine,β you lied immediately.
He gave a quiet, humorless breath. βNo, youβre not.β
You didnβt argue this time.
Eva Strattβs presence felt like it arrived before she even spoke. She felt like the grim reaper in this moment, sending a dreadful message to you.
βThe Astrophage containment failure has escalated,β she said flatly. No emotion. Only consequence. βWe have lost personnel. We are adjusting mission parameters immediately.β
Your grip on Ryland tightened without meaning to.
βWhat does that mean?β you asked.
It meant what you already feared.
Eva didnβt soften it.
βIt means Project Hail Mary proceeds under revised crew selection.β
Silence hit like pressure.
Then Rylandβs shoulders shifted slightly just enough for you to feel it.
Confusion first. Then realization. She wants you both on the ship. She wants you and Ryland to complete the mission.
βWhatever you are asking me to do, Strava, I am only willing to do it with my two feet on this Earth.β
"What happened to you wanting to save the world?"
"That was before..." you trail off, looking at Ryland. He's biting his lip. Unsure of what Eva is asking for.
Ryland tries his best to calm your fears, but heβs also afraid. He doesnβt know what is going to happen or what this means, but heβs just as scared.Β
βHey,β Ryland said, already half-turned toward the building, like he was being pulled in two directions at once. βIβll talk to Strava in private. Iβll figure this out, but Iβll see you later, okay?β
βOkay,β you replied automatically.
He hesitated for half a beat longer than necessary, like he wanted to say something else but couldnβt find the right shape for it.
Then he started to go.
βRyland,β you called out.
He stopped immediately.
You didnβt realize how tightly you were holding your breath until that moment.
Ryland Grace turned back to you, brows slightly raised. βYeah?β
You opened your mouth, and there it was.
Right there. On the tip of your tongue. I love you.
Your throat tightened again, and the courage that had surged up a second ago cracked under its own weight.
You swallowed it down.
ββ¦Just be careful,β you finished instead.
He gave you a look. He was hoping you would say more. He knew there was more sitting behind your words, like he always did, but he didnβt push it.
βAlways am,β Ryland Grace said, and then he was gone down the corridor.
You stood there long after his footsteps faded.
You stand there feeling deeply guilty because selfishly, you wanted neither goodbye nor separation nor rockets and sealed doors and missions that sounded like sacrifice dressed up as science. You just wanted five more minutes where nothing was about to end. This is a once in a lifetime experience, yet you couldnβt imagine being so far in a void of nothing. Being an astronaut wasn't in the job description.
You stepped outside, needing air to cool you down. There was nothing you could do inside. Nothing to fix. Nothing to calculate your way out of.
Just waiting. Just thinking too much. Just the sick, slow realization that this might be the end for you. For the end of you and Ryland. The two of you haven't spoken about that fateful night, but there's a quiet and understood affection you both have for one another. Something special that only the two of you can acknowledge.
A few hours must have passed of you just standing outside. Youβre trapped in your head, nothing else concerning you. Then you hear it. Shouting and footsteps. You look up and see someone being chased after by dozens of personnel. Rylandβ¦?
βWhat the fuck?β you shouted before your brain caught up, already moving.
He turned his head mid-run. He sees you. His face changes instantly, and he waves for you to not come over.
βNoβgo! Leave!β he yelled.
βWhat?β you shouted back, breaking into a sprint. You see Ryland get pinned to the ground. You pick up the pace, running faster than youβve ever had in the past.
βNoβ!β you screamed, already pushing through the cluster of bodies on top of Ryland.
You barely made it two steps before hands grabbed you. Theyβre strong and commanding.
βHeyβlet go!β you snapped, struggling immediately.
βDoctor, stand downββ
βDonβt fucking touch me!β
You twisted, tried to break free, but more hands caught you. The hands are pulling you down just like theyβd done to him. You feel someone heavy keeping you on the ground.
You turn your head, looking at Ryland who is also struggling on the ground. You reach out to him, trying to grab his hand.Β
Ryland on the ground, fighting even while pinned. He sees your hand and tries to reach out. You are merely fingertips apart, but nothing can close the gap.
βStopβ!β he shouted, but it was already overpowered by orders being barked at him. βHey, donβtβdonβt touch herβ!βΒ
Then something sharp pressed against your arm. It causes a surge throughout your arm.
You jerked violently. βWhat are youβ?βΒ
The world begins to blur. You fought it. Harder than you shouldβve been able to, but your limbs were already losing the argument with chemistry. Your blood boils. Youβre angry. That is all you can feel as your body fights back in vain. Through the haze, you saw him again. Ryland. Youβre still angry. Thatβs all you can feel.Β
He had to have known.
βD-Did y-you knowβ¦β you tried to say, eyes barely staying open.
His expression shifted. Heβs panicked.
βI didnβtββ he started, but you couldnβt hear the rest.
The last thing you see clearly is him still fighting to get to you. You take one last deep breath before your vision goes black.
βπβΛβΉβ‘ author's notes: lol so this was originally 10k words, but i had to shorten it for my own sanity. idk i feel like this isn't my best work, so it might be edited throughout the next couple of days. lol i get really embarrassed about my work sometimes... part 2 coming soon :) feel free to dm me if you want to be tagged. so part 2 i'm lowk thinking touch starved, angst, & smut. woo hoo !!! lol okay i need to go back to studying my finals. also fun little fact, the "fake" research paper was actually something i had to do a presentation for class LOL. It was essentially drawing a connection of how atp producing cells generate energy and how that could be applied to an engine. okay, i'll stop being a nerd now. <33333- love, jaz
Fly Me To The Moon : ΜΜβ Ryland Grace x Reader
Pairing: Teacher!Ryland Grace x Teacher!Reader
Summary: The entire school knew how close you and Ryland Grace had become since you'd joined Grover Cleveland Middle's staff a year prior. That knowledge only fueled the rumor mill, that one that ran between the staff and students alike, on just how close the two of you were. It didn't help that you were definitely head over heels for the slightly awkward and endearing science teacher.
Warnings: pre-Project Hail Mary and should not include spoilers but caution anyways just in case, pre-movie storyline, tooth-rotting fluff, idiots in love, workplace romance, friends to lovers, slightly suggestive-ish comments but no smut, female reader but no characteristics described, definitely some incorrect science information but I am not a scientist so apologies, I am also not a teacher so I am sorry for any inaccuracies there lol, lightly edited so apologies for any mistakes
Word Count: 14,596 words
Requests are open! : ΜΜβ Find my masterlist here
βCan anyone tell me why it was that Penelope asked her suitors to string Odysseusβs bow?β
The silence that followed was deafening. Your eyes shut for half a second, a tiny sigh escaping through your lips. Reopening your eyes, not a single one of your students had dared to raise their hands. No one except for Olivia, your star student, who waved her hand repeatedly in the air from the back of the classroom. A single glance to the clock told you all you needed to know.
11:55. These kids were already in lunch mode, and there was zero way you were getting them to listen to you.
With a sigh and a wave of your hand, you gave Olivia the okay to answer the question. She happily took your permission and ran with it, always the first to answer any questions you posed in class. If only the rest of these damn middle schoolers were as eager as she was.
βPenelope didnβt want to marry anyone else, so she gave them an impossible task,β
βWhy does she always know everything?β
Marcus thought his comment was whispered just low enough that you wouldnβt hear him in the first row, but he was never quite that lucky. He quickly shut his mouth and looked anywhere but in your direction the second he caught sight of the disapproving look you were casting directly at him.
βYou are exactly right, Olivia. Thank you for answering my question,β there were a few chuckles in the room at the obvious sarcasm laced through your words, as you hopped up onto your desk to relax and get a better look around the room full of kids. βPenelope knew the only person that could string her husbandβs bow, was her husband himself. She needed to buy time, especially when these suitors only really wanted to be the ones to inherit Ithaca-β
There was a loud knocking on the door to your classroom that had been left open for the last 20 minutes of class, interrupting your words. You werenβt surprised in the slightest to meet the eyes of none other than Ryland Grace, the science teacher.
βUh- sorry! Didnβt mean to interrupt important book talk stuff. Super important, you uh-you never know when Shakespeare will come up at your future desk job,β the cringe that Ryland physically did at his own comment was easy to see, even from across the room. He gave you a sheepish smile, his glasses barely hanging onto his face from their unconventional spot hanging off of one of his ears. The blonde held up the brown bag in his hand, and you could practically smell the food that rested inside. βIβm early, Iβm sorry. Didnβt think youβd want to have a cold burger for lunch.β
βI told you!β Marcus still didnβt understand the concept of a whisper, leaning over to his best friend Jason at the desk beside him, slapping him on the arm. βTheyβre totally dating!β
βAs if Mr. Grace could pull her,β
There was a chorus of snickers and laughter through the class, any semblance of order you mightβve had descending into chaos as every single one of your loveable, little shits just kept casting looks between you and Ryland, who still stood awkwardly in your classroom doorway with reddened cheeks.
Your face was surely no better, you were sure you could feel the heat that was emanating off of your skin, as you ran a hand down the burning skin of your face and wondered why you chose to teach these little menaces for the rest of your life. The world decided to be kind to the pair of you though, for once, letting the lunch bell save you from any further embarrassment from a group of 13 year olds.
βPlease come to class prepared to actually answer questions tomorrow!β you called out over the hustle and bustle of the class as they grabbed their things, eager to scurry off to their lunch hour and finally eat. βYour unit test is at the end of next week, and I would prefer not to fail all of you.β
They werenβt listening, but by this point in the day you were hungry and didnβt have the energy to try and argue with them.
Any of that tiredness they brought to your bones? It disappeared the second you watched the way they all interacted with Ryland on their way out the door.
Big smiles, every single one of them excited to see the schoolβs favorite science teacher lingering in the doorway to their English class. You could just barely hear the tail end of one of Rylandβs terrible science puns, something about a hungry planet needing a βlight snackβ that got a groan out of Marcus. All it did was bring a soft smile to your face, though, one that somehow softened even more at the quick, secret handshake Olivia shared with him before she was out the door.
Then, it was just the two of you, smiling like idiots as you locked eyes across the room again. And god, did you want that fluttering group of butterflies in your stomach to calm down for just a moment.
Having a crush on Dr. Ryland Grace, the former molecular biologist turned San Francisco middle school science teacher, was inevitable from the moment you turned up at the school for your first day over a year ago. Incredibly smart, amazing with kids, and so incredibly handsome you thought your heart stopped beating the first time you saw himβhell, Mrs. Doyle, the math teacher for over 5 years, said there were at least 4 other young teachers that absolutely had crushes on this man. You were far from the first.
He broke that perfect vision of himself you were building in your head within 5 minutes of meeting, tripping over his own two feet and knocking the stack of papers a mile high from the Principalβs hands, but you had only found it even more endearing.
βI didnβt mean to interrupt,β he apologized again, long legs striding across the room and reaching your desk in a matter of seconds. βI had a free period before this, a-and you mentioned this morning you forgot lunch so I grabbed some for both of us-β
βSalβs?β you questioned, pointing to the bag of foot now sitting on your desk with the familiar logo. βTheyβre, like, 10 blocks away. Whyβd you go that far?β
βBecause I know theyβre your favorite,β
The flare of heat in your cheeks was instant. Ryland Grace, who rode a damn bike to the school every day, used his free period to ride 10 blocks away and pick you up lunch from your favorite spot, all because you mentioned offhandedly at 7 a.m. about forgetting your lunch for the day.
Well, he certainly didnβt do that for the four fresh out of college teachers that had crushes on him. Youβd mentally consider that a hefty win in your book.
βHow sweet of you to remember,β Ryland simply waved you off, head turned away as he passed your wrapped burger into your hands, taking up space on your desk chair while you stayed comfortable on top of your desk. βYou even remembered tomatoes this time!β
βI forgot them one time and I never hear the end of it,β laughter was shared between you both for a moment as Grace took a bite of his own burger. βI caught the tail end of that discussion. Olivia answering all your questions like a champ?β
βIsnβt she always,β you shot back with another laugh, turning slightly on your desk to better face him. βI swear sheβs the only one that I can ever get to answer any of my questions. She might be the only one that does any of my assigned readings.β
βTo be fair, can you blame her?β Rylandβs words were muffled slightly by the food in his mouth. You couldnβt even contain the slight smile that grew as he managed to just barely catch the ketchup dripping off his burger before it could smear itself on the stack of papers that needed graded at your desk. βShakespeare was justβ¦so interesting. Couldnβt get enough of his stuff. Donβt know why your kids donβt want to read it.β
There was silence for a moment, your eyebrow quirked in his direction. The blonde stopped mid bite of his burger, looking back at you quizzically, trying to figure out what he had said wrong.
βYou know weβre currently learning The Odyssey, right?β
βYes?β
βIβll let you think about that for a second,β
He did, just slowly blinking in your direction. He glanced at the chalkboard behind you, covering in little notes youβd made throughout the class discussion, before they flickered to the copy of the book that sat on your desk. That was finally when you saw the light bulb flicker on above his head, Rylandβs eyes shutting as he let out a loud sigh.
β...that wasnβt written by Shakespeare, was it?β
The laughter that bubbled out of you practically had you throwing your head backward.
βNo, but Iβm sure Homer wonβt be too offended,β feet landing on the ground as you hopped off your desk, you gave Rylandβs shoulder a quick squeeze as you moved past him. βThe attempt was cute, though, it was a good try.β
Cute. Why in the world did you let that one slip? You were practically cursing yourself in your head for that one, taking another bite of your burger as you worked to erase the whiteboard to prepare it for your next class. You didnβt dare steal a glance over at Ryland, in fear that your little slip-up was going to ruin everything.
There was only quiet for a moment before the single moment of awkwardness was gone.
βI promise you I know Homer wrote that. I swear!β
The desperation to believe him drew another laugh out of you. Sparing a glance in his direction, Ryland was giving you his best, exaggerated puppy dog eyes, begging you to believe him, as a smile just barely squeaked its way onto his lips.
βRight, of course you did. My mistake. Whatever you say, Ryland-β
βI mean it!β It was his turn to laugh this time, a sound that had those butterflies rattling around once more. βI was justβ¦distracted.β
βUh-huh, distracted,β as if you were preparing to scold one of your students, you turned to face him fully with a hand on your hip, eyebrow raised expectantly. βBy what, exactly?β
If a human being could buffer, Ryland Grace always seemed to be constantly buffering. Your eyebrow remained raised, waiting for him to piece together his response. All he could do was open and close his mouth like a fish, before looking away and taking another bite of his food.
βNevermind that, just finish your food before it gets cold. I did bike, like, three miles to get that thing,β
With a roll of your eyes that held zero malice what-so-ever, you made sure the blonde could see your next bite of your food, a satisfied smile on his face.
βBack to the previous topic,β you steered the conversation in another direction, wiping off the last bits of chalk on the board and writing down your next period at the top so that you could start the discussion on the reading over again. βI donβt understand why itβs so hard to get some of these kids to just read the content. They all pay attention in your class!β
βI heard Jason make a comment yesterday during class that Marcus has a crush on Olivia. Maybe theyβre too distracted to read,β
You shot him a skeptical look.
βMarcus, crushing on Olivia? He was just making fun of her before you came in the room,β
Ryland averted his eyes, suddenly very interested in his ID badge hanging around his neck from his school issues lanyard.
βW-well, maybe he just doesnβtβ¦know how to express his feelings,β he spared a glance up at you, seeing you were still watching, as he tripped over his words again. βIt can be hard for boysβand menβof all ages, toβ¦tell someone how they feel.β
βWell, I donβt know where heβs learning from, but making fun of the girl you like isnβt the right way to go about things,β you shot back.
βThen teach them!β Ryland sounded absolutely ecstatic, that light bulb over his head going off again as he looked like heβd come up with the worldβs greatest idea. βClassic literature, thereβs plenty of great love stories in there. Get his interest by teaching them about that, so he can learn from them.β
βAlright, give me an example then, Mr. Suddenly an Expert in Classic Literature,β
βRomeo and Juliet,β he said like it was the easiest thing in the world, balling up the remnants of his finished food and tossing it in the bag it came in. βGreatest love story ever told, so great Taylor Swift wrote a song about them.β
βExcept they donβt run off and get married and live happily ever after, Ryland. Romeo thinks she is dead and kills himself with poison, and when Juliet realizes heβs dead she stabs herself,β
Rylandβs excitement fell slightly, his mouth forming a little βoβ shape.
β...oh,β
βDonβt think thatβs what I want to teach young, impressionable pre-teens about love-β
βDaisy and Gatsby, then! He loved her so much he stood on that dock staring at the-the bright yellow light of a stoplight for her,β
βIt was a green light and it was the dock light, first of all. Iβm not even sure how you could be that off. Secondly, Gatsby is murdered at the end of the book and Daisy doesnβt even attend the funeral, she and Tom move away and pretend it never happened,β
Rylandβs eyes are shut at this point, his fingers massaging his temples and those glasses just barely hanging on from their place around his neck.
β...does anyone not die in these old books?β
The sound of your laughter permeates the room and you sweep over, collecting his trash and combining it with yours. You never even spared him a glance, though you could feel his eyes on you, as you swept the trash away with you to the other side of the room, his voice echoing across to you.
βIβm going to get lucky on one of these guesses!β
What Ryland Grace was really lucky about was how adorable you found him, and how head over heels you were for him, because his lack of literary knowledge was astounding.
β€οΈ
βIβm sorry, youβre trying to tell me that arenβt currently fucking the eye candy that is the science teacher in room 305?β
βEvelyn!β
Evelyn Doyle was in her late thirties, married since she was 18, and already had three kids with her high school sweetheart. Since you had transferred into Grover Cleveland Middle, youβd become fast friends and she had become a great mentor.
She had, sadly, caught onto your pathetic crush on Ryland Grace before you had even fully realized it, and was now βvicariously living through youβ as she always said.
βThereβs not a single child left in this entire school right now,β she shot back, gesturing around her empty classroom, as she finished cleaning up anything her students had left around at the end of the day. You rolled your eyes at her excuse, perched on the edge of her desk. βPlease, Iβm tenured, what are they going to do?β
βIβm more so yelling at you for butting into my love life, once again,β was your reply through laughter. βRyland and I are good friends, thatβs it.β
It was her turn to laugh, finishing up her cleanup around the room before she joined you at her desk, packing her things away into her shoulder bag.
βOh please, you keep denying that little crush of yours-β
βI never said I was denying that,β you cut her off. βLord, you realized I liked him before I even did. But he and I arenβt anything besides friends. Iβm not lying.β
Your pleas fell on deaf ears, like they typically did when you were around Evelyn. She simply waved your statement off, tossing her bag over her shoulder as you followed her out of her room and down through the quiet of the school hallway. The quietest the hallway ever was, in the hours right after students were sent home for the day. Youβd rather be anywhere else, preferably at home, but these mandatory once-a-month staff meetings were unavoidable.
βWhether youβre telling me the truth or not, you have to understand why everyone thinks soβteachers AND students. I think even some parents think so!β The only response she got was an eyeroll, her shoulder bumping into yourβs playfully. βHe brings you lunch at least once a week, meaning he rides that dingy bike to get whatever youβre craving that day.β
βItβs usually just something random-β
βConstantly in your classroom, or vice versa,β she cut you off, and you quickly realized you werenβt getting a single word into this conversation. βIβm pretty sure Principal Marshall has considered, somehow, moving your classroom closer to his just so heβll stop being late to classes because heβs busy talking to you.β
Okayβ¦yeah, you didnβt have a retort for that one. Your classroom was on the opposite end of the school building from Rylandβs own, and yet every time he had even a split second he was somehow always leaning in your doorway. Even if it only resulted in a conversation that lasted all of a minute.
Many times those ended with your students having to remind him that the bell rang and he definitely had students in his own class unattended, waiting on their teacher. More than once heβd slipped as he tried to sprint back to his classroom from yours. It didnβt matter how short those little conversations were, though, because every second around him was precious to you.
βAwe, look at you blushing about it-β
You slapped Evelynβs hand away, throwing her a look of disdain that didnβt really hold any true malice to it.
βLook, all Iβm saying is the ball is in his court,β was the response you finally settled on as Evelyn propped the door of the small auditorium open for you to enter. βRyland is nothing but friendly to me, so if heβs interested then heβs got to show me.β
βYouβre acting as if youβve made your own feelings clear, honey,β
βNo, but I clearly donβt do a good enough job of hiding them,β
Speak of the devil: there he was. Rylandβs head shot up the moment the pair of you walked into the auditorium. Those damn glasses hanging down from one side of his face, framing his stubbled jawline perfectly. A smile lighting up his face the second those blue eyes found yours, gesturing to the empty seat beside him.
A packed auditorium, as you and Evelyn were the last ones there. Every seat up practically filled, and yet Ryland Grace sat among a crowd of people, eyes trained on you and a single seat saved for you amidst it all.
All you could feel was the heat in your cheeks, and the touch of Evelyn patting your back as she laughed, voice low but loud enough to hear as she shifted past you to find a seat of her own.
βDoesnβt have interest in you my ass,β
Her words swam through your head with every apology you muttered to the other teachers as you snuck past them in the cramped rows, happily taking the empty seat beside Ryland.
βYou didnβt have to save me a seat, you know,β your voice held a hint of teasing to it, but it was soft. Filled with an adoration that you knew you were terrible at hiding. Luckily, Ryland was terrible at picking up on it.
βWanted to sit next to you,β he whispered back as Principal Marshall began to drone on about updates neither of you particularly cared about. He leaned in close, a hint of his breath wafting over the shell of your ear as he spoke. βYou make these slightly less boring.β
Close proximity to this man was your worst nightmare, and the cramped auditorium wasnβt helping. That single touch of his breath against your skin was enough to send a simultaneous shiver down your spine and another round of heat to your cheeks. His suit jacket covered arm rested on the shared armrest between your seats, the edge of his bicep ghosting against the bare skin of your arm with every little shift he made, tapping incessantly against the armrest.
The slight action made you smile. He never could sit still in these meetings, always hated them.
βDid anything fun happen in class today?β you kept your voice low, eyes trained on the principal, as your head tilted slightly over to Ryland so he could better hear you.
βUh, if you count Madison telling me that she thinks the sun orbits the earth, then sure,β you had to stifle your laugh at that, casting Ryland a side glance as he grinned at you, doing a terrible job of whispering back at you as usual.
βHow could she possibly think that?β
βYouβd be surprised,β Ryland leaned just a tad bit closer, the side of his arm pushed up fully against your own. You could almost hear the smile in his voice without even having to look over at him. βThe National Science Foundation estimates that 26% of Americans still think the sun orbits the earth.β
βJesus, that many?β
βWell, 100% of them are stupid, so,β
Nasty looks from other faculty were shot your way that second you choked on your own breath, slapping a hand over your mouth in an attempt to stop yourself from breaking out into uncontrollable laughter. You gave them the most sympathetic look you possibly could, learning how to breathe normally again before mouthing sorry at them all.
Ryland didnβt care in the slightest for the warning look you shot him, a bright smile on his face as his eyes seemed to trail over every inch of your face.
βIf you keep doing this in every faculty meeting, theyβre going to separate us, Ry,β
βI met Madisonβs parents for the first time last month for parent-teacher conferences,β he continued, ignoring your plea. Instead, he leaned in even closer, eyes locked on yours, and god it was impossible to look away. βThey are, 100%, undeniably, part of the Flat Earth Truthers Club.β
You shook your head, a smile creeping back up on your lips. Rylandβs gaze could still be felt on the side of your face as you turned back to face the front, eyes focused back on the principal again in an attempt to pay attention to the meeting.
βFlat earthers are ridiculous. Theyβre just scared of science,β
βWell, you know what they sayβ¦the only thing they have to fear is sphere itself,β
There simply wasnβt enough time to clap your hand over your mouth and conceal your laughter, a split second of it breaking through the quiet of the auditorium. And Ryland? His smile was somehow even brighter than it was before, still locked onto your face, never having strayed once.
βDr. Grace, is there something you feel needs to be shared with the rest of your fellow faculty?β
Principal Marshallβs voice was enough to knock Ryland out of whatever trance he seemed to have put himself in. Eyes wide as if heβd just seen a ghost, hands barely able to catch his glasses as they almost fell right off of his ear where they dangled, a burst of red spread through his cheeks instantly as his deer-like eyes locked onto the unamused principal.
βI-I uh, no. No, nothing, Principal Marshall,β he scratched at the back of his head, ruffling up his already messy hair, a nervous tick youβd picked up since the moment youβd met him. You simply buried your head in your head, eyes trained on your shoes and Ryland out of the corner of your gaze, terrified to look up at your fellow faculty that youβd already apologized to once. βJust getting super jazzed about faculty updates. Hard to keep it in here. Iβm like a mushroom, getting allβ¦hyphaeβ¦β
A collective groan sounded through the auditorium at the terrible biology pun that rolled off of him with ease. All you could do was smile into the palm of your hand.
βPlease justβ¦pay attention to the meeting, Dr. Grace, before I separate you and your other half,β
Other half. Thatβs not how she meant it, but it was impossible not to let your mind wander to the idea.
Early mornings. Coffee, the smell of eggs and toast burning in the kitchen. Ryland and his hair that was surely even more unkempt that early in the day. The guarantee that he definitely had about 120 science puns ready to go at any moment.
Late nights. Curled up on a couch. A movie, a shared blanket, warm in the embrace of his arms. The quiet of just being with someone that made you happy in ways youβd never felt before. The promise of another day with them on the horizon.
It was becoming increasingly harder not to think about Ryland Grace like that every day, of what a life with the awkward, endearing science teacher could be.
And as Principal Marshall continued her meeting, and your eyes met the blue ones that were already looking at you: soft, kind, a hint of something you couldnβt understand in them, you could only dream he thought the same thoughts when he looked at you.
β€οΈ
βAlright, who can tell me the day of the first human space flight?β
Not a single middle schooler, packed into the buildingβs planetarium, raised their hands at first. Many of them started whispering to each other, confused looks on their faces, but Ryland just waited with a smile on his face. A brave soldier from Mr. Harkinβs class, Damien, finally raised his hand.
βUh, Mr. Grace? Wouldnβt thatβ¦be today?β
βExcatly!β Graceβs clap echoed through the room as he pointed toward the young kid sitting in the front row of seats. βInternational Day of Human Space Flight, commemorating the first human space flight by Yuri Gagarin. It was a trick question, and you passed my tiny friend.β
Were you excited about losing a chunk of your day to escorting your class to the planetarium, along with other classes in the building, for a special science presentation? Absolutely not, especially not with how terribly your class did on their last The Odyssey assignment.
When you found out that Ryland was giving the presentation during your allotted time? Suddenly, The Odyssey meant nothing to you. Not when you could watch Ryland teach, something he did so effortlessly.
The way he captured every single childβs attention with ease. That glowing smile on his face every time they answered a question right, and simply the way he seemed to love what he taught. You were captivated every time you got the chance to see him teaching the thing he loved so much.
βYuri Gagarin was a Soviet cosmonaut who became the first person in space in 1961 aboard the Vostok 1,β the planetarium was lit up with the night sky, little stars reflecting down. You could almost see them in the students eyes, in their bright smiles as they looked up into the vastness of space. Your eyes trailed to Ryland, already looking at you with a soft smile of his own, before he cleared his throat and moved throughout the room, focusing back on the kids. βOver the course of 89 minutes, his ship traveled to a maximum altitude of 187 miles, as it orbited the Earth.β
βWait, so we werenβt the first people in space?β one of your students, Lydia, called out. Ryland laughed, pointing over at her.
βNo, we kind of sucked,β you rolled your eyes with a grin at Rylandβs statement, though it drew a laugh from all of the kids. βNo, America had actually scheduled its first space flight for May 1961, so this was a huge blow to us. It really heated up the space race.β
βHe really is good with them, isnβt he?β
Glancing over, Mr. Harkin had saddled up beside you on the edge of the room, head tilted toward you and voice low so as to not disrupt the lesson the kids were being taught. Your gaze drifted back to Ryland as he continued his lesson, eliciting more laughter from the kids. It only brought another soft smile to rest on your lips.
βHe is, in a way that I just donβt understand,β
Those blue eyes youβd become so fond of met yours for a moment across the room, face illuminated by the light projecting onto the planetariumβs dome walls. The little grin he wore seemed to drop just slightly, gaze still locked on you but flickering every moment over to Mr. Harkin as he spoke to the students. Harkinβs elbow dug lightly into your side.
βCareful, youβre giving him major βheart eyesβ across the room right now,β
You did your best to conceal your laughter, shooting Harkin a look, Rylandβs gaze still felt on the side of your face even as you looked away.
βWhy do I feel like Iβm about to find out that every teacher in this school has a secret betting ring going on when it comes to Ryland and I?β
βI mean, itβs not a secret. Principal Marshall runs the damn thing,β
βMr. Grace?β one of the youngest girls in the grade, Aurora, called out, raising her hand up to get Rylandβs attention. βMy mom told me the other day that thereβs 8 planets in our solar system. What happened to Pluto?β
Ryland went to answer when Mr. Harkin beside you laughed, capturing the attention of everyone in the room, as he shook his head at his young student.
βNo, honey, scientists a couple years ago decided that Pluto wasnβt a planet anymore,β
Your eyes flickered to Ryland, who was already staring at Harkin from across the room as he tossed his little crochet earth back and forth in his hand. His response was a bit of a forced laugh.
βWell, your teacher isnβt wrong. Scientists classified Pluto as a dwarf planet a couple years ago,β he explained to the kids, eyes trained on the little crochet sphere in his hands. βBut thereβs 8 other very important, even closer planets that we should focus on. I mean, who really cares about a tiny, slow planet that takes 248 years to orbit the sunβhonestly, he should just accept that heβs slowly falling into obscurity and stop trying to steal the spotlight.β
The room got quiet. Your eyebrow raised slightly, head tilted, as everyone just seemed to stare at Ryland, who had yet to look up.
βUh, Mr. Grace?β some student in the back called out. βWhy did you call Pluto βheβ? Are the planets boys and girls like us, too?β
Rylandβs head shot up, as if he suddenly remembered he was in a room full of students. His eyes shot to you, his mouth opening, then closing, before he quickly looked away.
βIβwellβ¦planets donβt reallyβ¦Iβm not trying to misgender the planets, you know? Thatβs not for me to decide, thatβs for them toβyou know what, does anyone else have any other questions that arenβt related to Pluto?β
You really didnβt want to laugh at Ryland, but only he would be able to accidentally turn a lesson about space and planets into almost a lesson on bodily autonomy. He caught your eye, his widening just slightly and you could almost see his cry for help written across his face, but it only made your laughter worse.
It was little Madison that raised her hand next, speaking before sheβd even been called upon.
βAre you sure the Earth isnβt the center of the universe?β
Ryland hung his head in shame, the shaking of his head evident from across the room as a few of the kids around laughed at the young girlβs comment. You were quick to shoot them a warning look, not keen to hand out any detentions today.
By the time your gaze turned back to Ryland, he was already looking at you. His gaze flickered to Harkin, then back to you, and it was like a light bulb had just flickered on the way his eyes lit up.
βYes, Madison, Iβm sure the Earth isnβt the center of the universe. And I can show you,β his long legs crossed the room in seconds, his body sliding between you and Mr. Harkin as his hands landed on your shoulders with a tiny little squeeze that sent your heart leaping through your chest. βBut to do that, Iβm going to need this volunteer that Iβm not quite giving a choice.β
βItβs not volunteering if you didnβt ask, Ry!β
You exasperatedly tried to whisper to Ryland as he steered you across the room to stand before all the kids. He only shook his head as a bunch of your own students started cheering for you around the room, only worsening the red that coated your cheeks the second his hands had landed on your body.
βI need you for this,β he shot back hastily, positioning you in the middle of the room, standing in front of you. His body blocked the students from your vision, blue eyes boring down into yours, hands gently squeezing at your upper arms as you begged the blush in your skin to not be too obvious. βYou trust me?β
A ridiculous question, because the only answer was yes. You gave him a nod, and Rylandβs smile only widened as he turned back to the kids in the room.
βAlright, kids. Your gorgeous teacher here is the Sun,β
Little oohs and awes sounded from the kids around the room at Rylandβs little slip in of the word βgorgeous.β There was a sting in your bottom lip as you bit into it with your teeth, trying to contain your own smile. Marcus spoke up from across the room without raising his hand, as usual.
βThen whatβs Mr. Harkin?β
βOh, heβs Pluto,β Ryland shot back immediately, nodding his head. βSuits him.β
Laughter rang through the room, the young boys as rambunctious as ever. Ryland met your astonished look with a tiny wink of his own, one that forced a small laugh to tumble from your lips. Then, he began to slowly spin, walking around you in a circle.
βAnd I am the Earth,β he called out to the kids, and you could only hope he didnβt trip over his own two shoelaces. βThe Sun holds 99.8% of the mass in our solar system, which means itβs packing some massive gravity.β
Ryland stopped spinning himself, still moving around you in a circle. He held his hand out toward you, and you slipped yours into it without hesitation, spinning in that circle slowly with him.
βBecause the Sun holds such intense gravity, itβs actually pulling Earth into it. But, Earth has such high forward velocity that it actually keeps us moving sideways. Put these two together, and it keeps Earth moving in an almost perfect circle around the sun. Can anyone tell me another fun fact about our movement around the sun?β
The words went in one of your ears and straight out the other. There was no paying attention, not when Rylandβs hand held your own. Soft skin, just slightly rough around the edges, and those blue eyes were so soft, locked onto you as if there was nowhere else he wanted to look.
βOur speed changes!β Olivia called out from somewhere in the back, but you didnβt even try to look and find her. βWhen weβre closer to the sun in our orbit we move faster, and the further away we are, the slower we move.β
βVery good, Olivia!β Ryland called out, sparing just a quick glance over to the kids in the room as his hand held yours tighter, still spinning slowly together. βMadison, we also know this works because thereβs other sun-like stars out there that are also orbited by planets. Like Tau Ceti, which has four Earth-like planets orbiting it.β
βIs the sun important for other things, besides just being the center?β
Rylandβs eyes flickered to you, and you watched as he paused. The slight hesitation on his face, the bobbing of his Adamβs apple for a moment, before those blue eyes locked onto yours and refused to look away.
βI-It isβ¦for a lot of reasons. The Sun is the Earthβs entire reason for existing. The Sun gives the Earth life. The Sun is the reason the world is beautiful,β
Your breath hitched, eyes still trained on Ryland. There was something in his words, something in that earnest, raw look that he had written across his features as he looked at you that added a weight to his words. A weight that sent a tiny chill across your skin, raising the hair on your arms.
βWithout the Sunβ¦the Earth would be nothing,β
There was quiet across the room. Then, a couple snickers, followed by Oliviaβs smug little voice.
βThe Sun sounds beautiful the way you talk about it,β
βShe is,β his voice was lower, softer than it was before. Until, he seemed to realize what he said, the red on both of your faces spreading further than before as his eyes shot wide. βTHE SUN I mean! I-Iβm talking about the sun, obviously, b-because this is a science presentation!β
Laughter rang through the room, little chants of your names mashed together coming from some of the kids as the bell rang and saved either of you from further embarrassment.
Ryland, being Ryland, chose that moment to finally trip over his own two feet. You pulled on his hand as hard as you could, saving him from plummeting to the ground as he instead just landed on his one knee.
βMake good choices,β Ryland commented lowly as some of the kids walked past the two of you, still snickering and giggling to themselves. You let go of his hands finally, simply resting it on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze. βDonβt uh, I donβt know, blow up the world during lunch or anything. Or pop those chip bags and give kids heart attacks, whatever you kids do these days.β
You laughed, stepping around Ryland as your kids lined up outside of the room, waiting for you. He shot you a sheepish smile from the floor, and your skin still burned with heat at the memory of his words as you looked at him.
βEvery time I think youβre doing well with those kids, they manage to knock you down a peg,β
βYeah, well, whatβs new?β
When you met your class outside, you didnβt let them get a word in before you warned them not to say anything. You could still hear little comments talking about βshippingβ their English and Science teachers the entire way back to your classroom.
β€οΈ
Ryland Grace didnβt understand how he had ended up here.
Well, he did. Calling the leading scholar in his field a βstaggering waste of carbonβ at a UNESCO conference in Denmark was an easy way to get blacklisted from the field heβd studied in for many years in college. It was an easy explanation for how he ended up teaching middle school science at Grover Cleveland Middle in San Francisco.
Not that he had a problem with teaching! He actually loved it. Loved his kids, loved talking about science. He loved teaching the future little scientists of the world about why every facet of science was awesome. The pay wasnβt great, though.
Especially when it was the reason he rode a bike to school daily.
And there was currently the equivalent of a monsoon raining down from the sky onto the pavement, the reason heβd been standing at the front doors for the last 20 minutes hoping that the rain would simply let up. The heavens didnβt take pity on him, though, and it only rained harder and harder. His rain coat and bike were not meant to withstand heavy rain and damaging winds to this extent.Β
Best cast scenario? It takes him a little longer to get home on his usual 20 minute bike ride than normal. Worst case? He crashes and dies, dead in a ditch covered in mud.
βRyland, please tell me you arenβt thinking of riding your bike home in this?β
Then there was you. You were probably the single greatest reason why he loved teaching at Grover Cleveland Middle. If he ever had the unfortunate chance to meet that scientist from the conference again, heβd thank him this time for being a staggering waste of carbon, because it led him down a path to you.
βI canβt be that bad,β he tried to joke, waving you off as a crack of thunder seemed to shake the entire building, and his fake confidence faltered for a second. He glanced back at you, coat wrapped around your bag instead of yourself in order to keep its contents dry. βJust, you knowβ¦the slight threat of bodily harm.β
He really wished the path that led to you was less bumpy and full of himself looking like an idiot, but at this rate heβd take what he could get from the universe.
βYeah, absolutely not,β was your immediate reply, head shaking as she fished your car keys out of the bag still covered with your coat. βIβm giving you a ride home, canβt risk the best science teacherβs life over a dumb storm.β
Ryland immediately shook his head, turning to face you beside him. He was not letting you risk your own life in the storm for him. If it really came down to it, heβd sleep at his desk. There was a change of clothes he kept in the bottom drawer, it wasnβt the first time heβd had to do it.
βI canβt let you-β
βThis isnβt up for discussion,β Ryland snapped his mouth shut as you cut in once again, dangling your car keys up in front of him with a little shake. βIβ¦care about you, okay? I want to know you are home safe.β
There was no stopping the immediate heat that filled Rylandβs cheeks, and he knew it. There was red blooming across your own, but Ryland shook all wishful thinking from his mind. The AC unit in this school was unreliable, you were definitely just flushed from the heat. No other reason.
Ryland decided he wasnβt going to put up a fight at this point, but he wasnβt going to let you do this without anything in return. He shrugged the yellow raincoat hanging over his own shoulders off as he kicked the glass door in front of him open, the muffle sounds of the torrential downpour now louder as droplets of water splashed into the front door. He held the jacket out, hanging it above your head to protect you from the rain.
βAt least let me save you from getting drenched,β
βYouβre going to look like a dog that just had a bath by the time we reach my car,β Ryland only smiled at your joke, and the little giggle that fell through your lips. The close proximity didnβt help as he held the jacket up around you.
βActually, itβs not windy today,β he shot back with a grin, nodding out the propped open door into the rain. βThat means if we run, Iβll be drier than if we walked, because the rain thatβs hitting us from above is proportional to time. Though, the rain hitting us from the front is proportional to distance, and when running-β
βRyland Grace, you are adorable when you get all science-nerd, but if weβre going to runβ¦we should run,β
Ryland was thankful that you couldnβt see the renewed heat flooding his cheeks, as you were both too busy sprinting through the torrential downpour to the staff parking lot.
Being a gentleman (who was head over heels in love with you and too terrified to say a damn thing) was thrown out the window with how fast you were booking it to your car, the idea of shielding you from the rain with his jacket abandoned after just a moment booking it across the lot. He could feel the coolness of the water settling against his skin as it soaked through every layer of clothing he had, every few seconds having to furiously wipe at his glasses in hopes of seeing through them.
None of it really mattered in the end, not when he heard your laugh. The little shrieks of laughter as a particularly big drop happened to fall right in your eyes. Or the laughter as Ryland managedβin his signature fashionβto slip on the final step into the parking lot, and you had to double back in laughter to help haul him to his feet.
Heβs spring clumsily through the rain a thousand more times if he got to see you smile like that. And that is why his kids always told him that he was definitely βwhippedβ for you. Whatever that meant.
The second you had both jumped into your respective seats of your vehicle, doors slamming shut, there was only a moment of silence between the both of you. Ryland felt like his chest was going to explode, remembering why he always hated gym class, his heavy breathing mixed with yours as you both caught your breath, before you locked eyes over the center console.
Then the laughter resumed.
He held his hand to his stomach, feeling an ache settling in as he couldnβt stop his own laughter. Yourβs grew slightly louder in his ear as you leaned over, trying to help him wipe at his glasses that were still covered.
βI was right, you look like a wet dog,β
Rylandβs only response was to shake his soaking wet hair like one, a simple reaction that earned yet another shriek of laughter from you and a light slap to his shoulder. You muttered something unintelligible under your breath, but Ryland found himself unable to tear his gaze away from your lips as you started the car and began to pull out of the staff lot. How soft they looked, the way the little beads of water running down your cheeks fell over them.
Whipped. He still didnβt get it, but he agreed wholeheartedly with his kids at this point.
There was no driving fast in this rain, especially when the windshield wipers were moving at their highest programmed speed and it still wasnβt enough. It was quiet in the car for just a moment as you pulled out of the parking lot, but Ryland broke it the second your phone had connected to the carβs bluetooth, music filling the space between him and you.
Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars. Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars.
βFrank Sinatra,β Ryland couldnβt help the growing smile on his lips as the familiar song flooded through the car speakers. He kept his eyes trained on the side of your face, watching the little smile grow on your own lips, eyes focused on the road conditions in front of you. βOld books and old music. Didnβt know you had such an old soul.β
βYou calling me old, Ryland?β
βN-no!β Ryland immediately back track, hands flying up and shaking back and forth as his eyes went wide. βI might say some stupid stuff someβokay, most of the timeβbut I know better than to comment on a womanβs age.β
βIβm just teasing you,β he could thankfully hear the sincerity mixed in with the teasing lit to your voice. βBut yes, I do enjoy some old music. Always been a big fan of Sinatra, especially this one.β
βItβs a nice songβ¦just not scientifically accurate,β he caught the side eye that you threw his way for just a moment, another crack of thunder banging across the sky and almost shaking the car. Ryland couldnβt help but jump slightly. βJupiter only has a 3.13Β° tilt to its axis, so it doesnβt experience seasons like we do. Marβs would, though, because its axis is tilted at 25Β°, only 1.5Β° more than our own tiltβ¦β
Ryland trailed off as the car rolled to a stop at a red light, and he caught you fully facing him this time with a bemused expression written across your face. His smile dropped just slightly as he let out a sheepish laugh, adjusting his glasses as they slid back down the wet bridge of his nose.
β...I went full science-nerd again, didnβt I?β
Your laughter drowned out the rain beating against the roof of the car as your attention returned to the road once more.
βYou always do, but I happen to enjoy it very much,β
If only teaching paid more, because the commute to Rylandβs apartment was a lot shorter than his bike ride home every day from work.Β
Parked in an open space across the road from the dimly lit apartment building, Ryland Grace hesitated with his hand on the handle of the door. His eyes swept out over the area around the vehicle, still being hounded with rain. The top of his road looked like the beginning of a river, the way the water was rushing down the small incline to pool at the bottom.
βThanksβ¦for this,β he gestured toward the weather right outside the card.
You moved to respond to him, when the weather alert on your phone propped up on your dashboard sounded out. Ryland could just barely make out the headline: FLASH FLOOD WARNING.
The roads were far too dangerous, and Ryland already knew from various conversations that you lived on the opposite end of town from him.
Heβ¦could ask you to stay for the night. Just for safety reasons, obviously! He was quickly trying to work through the pros and cons list in his head.
Pros: his only friend that just so happened to be the woman heβs been head over heels in love with for the last year would be safe and not driving in this storm.
Cons: his only friend that just so happened to be the woman heβs been head over heels in love with for the last year would be inside his tiny little apartment that looked like it had been hit by a separate hurricane than the one it felt like they were currently suffering through.
βI should probably get home-β
βStay,β Ryland cut in, quickly continuing his words after his vague statement. βI-Itβs just, the roads are bad, and you live on the other side of town. This storm is just going to get worse, and I-Iβd hate to know something happened to you.β
You hesitated, he could tell, shaking your head.
βRyland, I couldnβt ask you to let me stay,β
He hesitated himself for a moment, every feeling heβd kept bottled up for a year now threatening to escape past his lips. Instead, he settled on echoing your own words.
βIβ¦I care about you. I want to know youβre safe,β
Moments later, he had his rain coat draped over your head as he rushed you inside his apartment to shelter from the storm.
Rylandβs hands shook the entire time as he put his key into his front doorβs lock. The last time he had guests overβ¦was never. His apartment was built and designed for him and his brain, scattered with notes and books and piles of arts and crafts that he worked on in order to decorate his classroom. It was not meant for visitors, especially not ones as pretty as you.
βDonβt, uh, mind the mess,β he mumbled, holding the door open and motioning after you, allowing you to take a step inside his apartment as he let out the small breath he didnβt realize he was holding.
Chucking off his sneakers, little puddles of water forming below them on the ground, his jacket found its way into a pile with them. Ryland wiped his hands nervously against the thighs of his jeans, the action doing nothing against the soaking went material, as he watched you take in his apartment.
The apartment that looked like it had been ransacked, at least partially. Stacks of books relating to a thousand different topics were stacked on the ground by the tv stand, on top of the coffee table along with the coffee cup heβd abandoned there early in the morning in a haste to get to the school, and and by his desk that had a stack of papers scattered around it after her strewn them about in order to find one specific slip of paper at 11 p.m.
It was a mess, and Ryland regretted everything.
βItβs not messy, itβs homey,β your reply sent a burst of heat through his skin as you turned to him with a bright smile, leaving your own bag and coat by his pile of wet items before gesturing to your own soaking wet clothing. βDo you maybe have something a little lessβ¦wet?β
He scurried away into his bedroom, trying to ignore that little section of his brain that took your comment in a MUCH different way.
His bedroom was worse. Ryland wasnβt letting you sleep on the couch, but he surely wasnβt letting you see his room in a state like this.
Clothing was thrown across the room and Ryland quickly ran about, shoving piles of clothing away into corners where he was certain you wouldnβt be able to see any of it. Throwing it into his closet and slamming the door before it could fall out, pushing it down in his laundry basket, kicking it under his bed so it was out of sight and out of mind, whatever he could think of.
βGreat idea, Ryland,β he muttered to himself, pulling on a dry pair of sweatpants and a tshirt for himself, trying to shake the remaining water out of his hair as he rummaged for something you could wear. βAlmost get the woman youβre in love with killed by letting her drive you home in a monsoon. Invite her to stay the night in your apartment that makes you look like an even bigger loser than you are. Amazing idea. A doctorate in molecular biology and this is the best you can do.β
You were waiting by the couch in his living room, just glancing around at everything with a smile, when he reappeared. Sheepishly, he handed the folded clothing over to you, hand running through his soaking wet hair as he pointed down the hall.
βYou can take my bed for the night. Uh, just leave your clothes in the bathroom, I can throw them in the dryer in a bit. I can scrounge up something to eat in the meantime,β
βThanks, Ry,β your hand reached out, squeezing his upper arm lightly, and he felt the heat in his skin instantly bloom under your touch. βFor all of this.β
If it wasnβt for the giant crack of thunder that flickered the lights of the building for a moment and made Ryland jump out of his skin, he wouldβve forgotten how to breathe again.
He rummaged through every part of his kitchen, desperately trying to find something that he could make the two of you to eat that also wouldnβt make him seem pathetic. All he could come up withβ¦was a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a jar of jelly.
Yesterday. Heβd stayed late after the end of the day to help in tutoring. He forgot to go grocery shopping. Ryland let out a sigh at his realization, back to his fridge door and head banging back against the stainless steel, hand running down his face and dragging against his skin as his glasses were knocked off, hanging off of one ear.
βGreat,β he muttered into his palm. βJust absolutely freaking great, Ryland.β
Ryland Grace desperately wished he had the guts, the bravery, to just simply tell you how he felt.
From the moment he met you, when you had arrived for your first day at Grover Cleveland Middle, he was a goner. It had been a long time since heβd had a partner, his last one certain that he was too busy with his head in the clouds to pay attention to her, and she wasnβt wrong. But from the moment he looked at you, waving and smiling as you introduced yourself to all of the teachers that had gathered to welcome you, you were suddenly the only thing his brain wanted to focus on.
He had been so focused on you, too busy admiring every inch of you in silence, that in his typical clumsy fashion he tripped over his own two feet and knocked Principal Marshallβs papers out of her hand, spreading them five feet across the floor. But youβd joined him on the ground, laughing lightly to yourself, as you helped him clean up the papers, and Ryland knew he was a goner for you.
It only continued every single day, getting worse, and you somehow became his friend. His only friend, if he was being quite frank. So he tried to hide the way he really felt, too scared to mess anything up. Heβd rather have you in his life in any way he could, then mess this up and lose you forever.
Keeping those feelings in was getting increasingly harder in the last few months. Which explained why heβd traveled cross town just to get lunch from your favorite place, or compare you to the sun and basically called you his entire reasoning for living in front of a bunch of children-
Either Ryland was going to blurt it out at some point, or he was taking these feelings to the grave with him.
βPeanut butter and jelly? Sounds like weβre eating like royalty tonight,β
He shouldnβt have looked over at you. He really, really shouldnβt have. Leaning against the opposite wall of the kitchen, hair still damp and dripping onto the cheesy βI had potentialβ shirt heβd been gifted by one of his students the following year. Sweatpants that were bunched up around your ankles so that you didnβt trip over the length, waist tied in as tightly as possible so they didnβt just slide right off your hips.
Ryland Grace had never thought it possible that you could look more gorgeous than you did every day, but he stood corrected. He felt more in love than he ever had just looking at you right in this moment.
βSorry, I donβt exactlyβ¦live a life of luxury,β Ryland awkwardly laughed as he spoke, pulling out two sad paper plates from the cabinet next to him and flashing them in your direction, shaking them lightly in the air. βHope this doesnβt ruin my perfectly curated image.β
His eyes followed you as you brushed past him, humming to yourself with a little grin. You fumbled through every drawer in the kitchen, looking for something, when Ryland quickly popped open the one right next to him, showcasing his small selection of utensils. You flashed another heart-stopping grin at him before digging out two knives from the drawer.
βThat image cracked a long time ago, Ry. Like that time you let Marcus perform some chemical reaction and got the fire department called to the school,β
The tall blonde groaned to himself, rubbing at his temple as you pushed past him to throw some of the bread down onto the plates and crack open the jars of peanut butter and jelly set out.
βThat was one time!β he tried to defend himself, saddling up beside you as you passed him one of the knives. He almost completely missed the opening of the peanut butter jar, eyes too transfixed on the sight of you in his clothing. It was still up in the air if his heart was actually working correctly yet. βI learned my lesson very quickly not to let him handle any more chemicals.β
βDonβt worry. I made the mistake of doing popcorn reading when we were working on The Outsiders. Marcus seemed to end up with every single instance of profanity in the book, which he would yell at the top of his lungs,β
Ryland snapped his fingers, glancing down at you at his side with a teasing smile.
βYou know what? That explains that really loud βHELLβ I heard across the school a couple months ago. I was so sure that it was going to shatter the windows of my classroom,β
βOh, shut up! It wasnβt that bad!β
Your laughter permeated the air, elbow digging into his side as you spoke. And when your eyes locked with his, and Ryland got the perfect look at every square inch of your face, he could see it so clearly in his head.
Mornings just like this, where youβd both struggle to get out of the warmth of the blankets. The way he would surely annoy you with his very disorganized morning routine, but heβd make up for it with coffee already set out for you, just as you liked it. The lingering moments by the door, too wrapped up in each other because you didnβt want to leave the peace of this space, even though you were going to the same place.
Late nights, curled together on the couch with some movie playing on TV that neither of you were particularly paying attention to. Whispered words, laughter shared. Kisses that lingered, hands that trailed-
Thunder broke Ryland from his spell, thoughts gone in a flash. He was back in his dingy kitchen, with you just inches away, staring up at him as the picture of true beauty.
βT-This is nice,β he cleared his throat, turning back to his sandwich as he spread his toppings along the bread, heat blooming across his cheeks again. It always did around you. βMaking dinner with someoneβ¦no matter how sad the dinner is. I havenβt done this in awhile.β
βRight,β your voice responded after a momentary pause. βSarah, wasnβt it? You were dating her when we first met. What, uhβ¦what ever happened to her?β
βOh, we broke up a long time ago,β Ryland waved the comment off, shaking his head. βShe just, uh, thought my head was too far in the clouds. Didnβt think I wanted to be down here on Earth. She wasnβt wrong. It was for the best, though. She hatedβ¦all of this. The rundown apartment, the lack of a car, my love of science. She just never understood it. I was justβ¦too much for her. But sheβs with Mark now, so Iβm sure sheβs happy.β
Ryland chose not to mention that his last relationship had been dead long before it officially ended, the pair not having seen each other in well over a month by that point. If his math was right, which it usually was, Sarah had started dating Mark before sheβd even broken it off with him.
He also failed to mention the relief he felt inside when she had called it off, knowing his heart had belonged to you the moment your eyes had locked with his.
Fingertips just barely ghosted over Rylandβs cheek, and he froze in place. Eyes trained on the plate in front of him, he could feel the way your hand curled around his cheek. The way your thumb glossed over his skin, back and forth, and the way your other fingers barely grazed over the shell of his ear. He couldnβt help the way he instantly leaned into the touch, a touch he hadnβt felt in so long.
Ryland turned his head, still resting in the palm of your own, to look you in the eyes. You gave him the softest smile, hand trailing across his cheek and ghosting over his jawline. His eyes watched it move, the way your fingers gently curled around the frame of his glasses dangling precariously from his face, and placed them gingerly back where they belonged, resting on the bridge of his nose.
His breath caught, your body so close to his, as your hand trailed back down and rested on his chest for just a moment, your own gaze flickering to its resting spot while his gaze stayed on your face.
βYou are never, and will never be, too much, Ryland. Not for the right person. Theyβll love every part of you. The clumsy parts, the nerdy parts, every part that makes youβ¦you,β
The Sun. Thatβs what you were to Ryland Grace. He meant every word he had said in that planetarium that day, driven by the rare jealousy of seeing Harkin that close to you.Β
The Sun was the reason Earth had life. Without the Sunβ¦the Earth would be nothing.
Without youβ¦well, Ryland Grace had accepted long ago that he didnβt understand what it was like to truly live until heβd met you.
Your eyes flickered for just a second, and Ryland took in an audible breath, swearing they settled on his lips for just a second. The apartment was quiet, except for the hum of the fridge and the pattering of the rain against the living room windows.
The moment shattered with yet another terribly timed clap of thunder, your body jolting away from his, focus turned back to the counter in front of you, face hidden from his wide eyes.
βY-you knowβ¦I canβt tell you the last time I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich,β
Ryland shook his head, smiling slightly to himself at the little stutter in your own words, turning back to finishing his own food as well. But the moment still lingered in his head, the heat that bloomed from where your skin touched him still lingering.
βSince peanut butter is banned in school for allergies, probably awhile,β
βI almost forgot that rule a couple weeks ago and almost packed peanut butter crackers,β you joked back, before Ryland heard you snap your fingers. βOh! Speaking of work, did you put yourself down to volunteer for the school dance next week?β
Sandwiches finished off, Ryland packed the ingredients away and stashed them back in their appropriate spots, laughing awkwardly to himself.
βHah, uh, no I didnβt. I chaperoned last year and kind of left covered in punch, became the kidsβ favorite βmemeβ for a week afterward since one of them got a picture of it,β
He turned back to you. Leaning against the island counter, holding your sad little sandwich in your hands, face still lit up red as you smiled toward him.
βI think so far it's me, Doyle, and Harki, plus Principal Marshal and I think Katie and Dawson from the front office. We could really use another teacher,β he swore the fluttering of your lashes was on purpose just to kill him and his resolve. βSign-up? For me?β
Well, there was no universe in existence where Ryland said no to a request like that.
Rejoining you at the counter, he held his own sandwich in his hand, reaching out and tapping it against yours as if you were sharing a toast.
βFor you? Totally,β
Even as you both took a bite of your sandwiches, eyes still locked together, Ryland felt as if something had shifted in the air. Your eyes were still as kind, your smile still bright, but it felt like there was a new weight to your gaze as you looked at him.
And he sworeβand hopedβfor just a split second, that your eyes had just flickered down to his lips again.
β€οΈ
The student council had outdone themselves with this end of the year dance.
As you stepped through the main doors of Grover Cleveland Middleβs building, the smile on your face grew immediately at the sight before you. The walls were lined with little fairy lights, little styrofoam planets hanging down from the ceiling at various lengths, glow in the dark stars right around them and glowing. Silver streamers hung around the fairy lights, with the check in desk decorated with tons and foam and lights behind them to look like twinkling lights in the clouds.
βA space theme?β you called out as the two kids in front of you ducked away from the registration desk. Evelyn Doyle finally looked up from the sign-in sheet, grin growing as she took in the sight of you and rounded the desk. βI hadnβt heard anything from the student council on the theme, but they did well.β
βNevermind the theme, youβre finally here!β you laughed as you threw her arms around you, reciprocating the hug, before her hands landed on your shoulders in order to get a good look at you, eyes trailing you up and down. βAnd look at this dress, oh my god!β
The deep yellow dress fell right around your knees, the fabric light and airy as it swooshed through the air with every move you made. Buttons lined the front down to the tie around your waist, leaving just enough room for the little gold necklace resting against your collarbone. You thanked yourself for choosing a short sleeve option, already feeling the heat in the building from how many kids were all packed in and dancing together.
βThank you,β was the sheepish reply you gave your friend as she let you go. βIβm sorry Iβm late, I caught one of my studentβs parents in the parking lot and they turned it into a mini parent-teacher conference, sadly.β
βNot a problem,β she waved the comment off, gesturing toward the doors of the gym just off to the left of you both. βJust get on in there, have some fun, and keep those slow dancers at least 12 inches apart at all times.β
If the hallways were gorgeous, the inside of the gym shone even brighter. Bathed in blue and purple, even more little lights twinkled around the room, hung off the walls, the ceilings, and on every surface they could possibly find. Moon and star decals, made by the art students, hung off the walls and from the ceiling, almost glowing under the lights.
Your eyes trailed over all of your children, scattered throughout the room, already having been dancing for at least thirty minutes. The smile on your face grew as you watched each one of them, gathered with their friends as they danced together in groups, or even stood off to the sides and just observed from beyond the dimly lit dance floor.
Mr. Harkin had been stationed at the punch table, and you could hear him from across the room warning these middle schoolers not to try and spike the punch. You could only giggle to yourself, shaking your head at his antics, before your eyes swept over the crowd once more-
The music seemed to stop in your ears, breath hitching, the second you laid eyes on him across the room. Ryland Grace.
He wasnβt in anything fancy. A nice pair of jeans, the worn pair of black dress shoes youβd seen by his apartment door that night. A dark green shirt was tucked into his jeans, adorned with a worn, navy blue suit jacket overtop, and those same glasses almost falling off the bridge of his nose as he spoke animatedly to Olivia.
Ryland looked good. Too good, in your eyes.
For just a second, he looked up, and his eyes happened to meet yours across the room. You thought for sure youβd forgotten how to breathe.
Whatever had happened that night, in the silence of his apartment with only the beating of the rain against the windows and the roof as a witness, had shifted something. From the moment your fingertips had ghosted along his skin, your hand had rested against his chest, and youβd been close enough to see the specs that danced in those ocean blue eyes of his up close, nothing had been the same.
Like the little bubble you had been existing in with your harbored crushed had finally popped. Like a toe had dipped just slightly over a line, and there was no going back from then on.
You always blushed around your friend, every time heβd manage to fumble his way through a comment that borderlined on a kind-of-not-just-friendly compliment. But since that day just a week or so ago, every time he has been within a few feet of you, your face lit up like a hot summerβs day.
Moments where heβd find a second to linger in your classroom door, held a new weight to them. Sharing lunch together, fingers just barely brushing for a second as you both reached for your food, to moments when youβd simply be walking together down hallways, back of hands brushing along each otherβs but no one making any moves to stop it from happening.
Something was different, and you werenβt sure you wanted to go back to how things were before. Not after touching his skin, or existing in his orbit like that. Not when youβd seen the side of him beyond these school walls.
You were in love with Ryland Grace. You had been for a long time. And, finally, you were done trying to pretend that there wasnβt at least a small chance that he felt the same.
βI need your help,β
The heated staring contest between you two was broken by the sound to your right. You turned, just to see Marcus standing directly beside you and reaching up to pull on the sleeve of your dress. His hands wrung together, foot tapping incessantly on the ground, and you immediately knelt down in front of him to get a better look at his face that he was trying to hide from you.
βMarcus? Honey, whatβs wrong?β you asked gently, hands coming to rest on his arms as you tried to get him to look at you.
βIβ¦I like Olivia,β
Oh. It was one of those problems. The anxiety you felt in that moment finally washed away, an easy smile falling to your lips as you took a quick glance over in Ryland and Oliviaβs direction, the formerβs eyes still locked onto you from across the room.
βI did hear a rumor about that. Olivia is a great girl,β
βShe is,β he said quickly, finally looking at you. His nerves were basically written across his face. βI-Iβve been really mean to her. I didnβt mean to be.β
βI know, honey. Sometimes feelings can be confusing,β you stood up, hands on your hips as you looked down at him with a smile. βDo you want to dance with her?β
βI do,β
You held your hand out toward him with a smile.
βThen why donβt we start by going and apologizing to her?β
With Marcusβs hand in yours, you confidently led him across the room, eyes locked back onto Rylandβs as you approached. He stood with Olivia at his side, who was talking his ear off, a dopey looking grin on his face as he nodded to whatever she said as he continued to watch as you approached him.
βDr. Grace, Iβm sorry to interrupt you and Olivia,β you announced yourself to the pair with a grin of your own, hands on Marcusβs shoulders and you lightly pushed him forward. βBut Olivia, thereβs something that Marcus here wants to say to you.β
The young boy shuffled awkwardly forward, hands wringing together again as he stood in front of his crush.
βI, uh, I wanted to say I was sorry. For being really mean to you. I didnβt mean it,β
Oliviaβs eyes went wide, as she too shuffled uncomfortably for a second. Ryland saddled up to your side, the pair of you sharing a glance as you watched the interaction happen right before your eyes. His hand graced over yours lightly, and it took everything in you not to reach out and lock your fingers with his.
βOh! Itβs, um, itβs okay. Thank you,β
βSay, Marcus?β Ryland called out to them both, catching the boyβs eye and gesturing toward Olivia with a wink. βWhat do you think of Oliviaβs dress?β
βIβ¦I think she looks really beautiful,β
That comment finally seemed to catch Olivia off guard, her eyes wide in shock as she giggled nervously.
βOh! Iβ¦thank you, Marcus. You look really nice too,β
βThank you,β his posture seemed to straighten out at Oliviaβs reaction, like seeing her accept his compliment gave him the confidence he needed. βDo you want to dance with me?β
Olivia shot you and Ryland a look, and you both immediately gave her a thumbs up. Then, your happy eyes could only watch the two pre-teens awkwardly shuffle away together to the dance floor, not daring to meet the eyes of the other.
βLook at us, playing matchmaker for middle schoolers,β
βI think they did that for themselves, we just helped,β you laughed, turning your head. The laughter died on your lips the second your eyes met with Rylandβs, voice low and breathy as you whispered to him through your smile. βHi.β
βHi,β he whispered back just as breathily. His hand came up to the back of his head, running through his hair for a moment, and you could see the red and pink hues that lit up his cheeks. βI got worried when I didnβt see you. I was ready to call you.β
βYou couldβve,β
βIβll remember for next time,β he shot back, hands finding their way to rest in the front pockets of his jeans. His eyes moved back over the crowd, finding your two young students once more. βIβm proud of him for that. Thatβ¦must have taken a lot of guts to do.β
You followed his gaze, landing on the pair as they danced together, laughing and talking like old friends.
βLike you said before, it can be hard for boys to express their feelings. All he needed was to pull up his big boy pants and ask her,β
Ryland laughed beside you.
βYeahβ¦I should probably follow in his footsteps,β
You glanced back to him, seeing him already watching you. A single eyebrow raised toward him quizzically, even though your heart felt like it was ready to beat directly out of your chest.
Rylandβs mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, as if he were trying to force out words that he couldnβt quite seem to get right. You didnβt even realize you were holding your breath, hoping inside that whatever he wanted to say would address the weight that seemed to be hanging between your gazes.
βStay here,β
There wasnβt even time for you to respond before the tall blonde rushed away, almost tripping as he dashed over to the DJ booth across the way from the makeshift dance floor. He whispered something to the DJ, and you could see the thumbs up he got in return, before he rushed back over to you, panting slightly.
βRyland?β you questioned softly, the man who held your entire heart without knowing it standing just a foot in front of you with a nervous grin on his face. βWhat did you just do?β
As if on cue, the song changed, and familiar lyrics floated through the room, bouncing off the walls.
Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars. Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars
βIβm pulling up my big boy pants,β he responded with a nervous laugh, his hand outstretched toward you. βAnd asking you to dance with me.β
Nothing else existed the second that you slid your hand into Ryland Graceβs without hesitation, letting him pull you in. You werenβt in the school, not in a room decorated for a middle school dance, and certainly not surrounded by middle schoolers and a bunch of faculty that had placed bets on you both.
It was just you and Ryland Grace. Thatβs all you wanted it to be.
Your arms found a place to rest around his shoulders, fingertips just barely brushing past the strands of hair that tickled the back of his neck. There was a fluttering in your chest the second that his hands made their way to your waist, curling around the divet just above your hip bone, pulling you into him just by another inch.
In other words, hold my hand. In other words, darling, kiss me. Fill my life with song, and let me sing for ever more.
"I didn't tell you yetβ¦,β his voice was soft, words whispered just between the two of you in a crowded room. βBut you look beautiful,"
"You don't have to flatter me, Ryland,"
"No, really, you look-"
"Like a banana in this yellow dress?"
He paused. His tongue poked out, running along his bottom lip, and you could see the nervous bob of his Adamβs apple before he spoke again.
"...like the sun,"
You are all I long for, all I worship and adore.
Oh. That fluttering in your chest was back, and suddenly, you werenβt at a middle school dance anymore. You were back in that planetarium, spinning in circles. And this time, there were no doubts in your mind. You were the Sun, and he was the Earth. And what was the Earth, without its Sun?
"Ryland-"
"I wasn't lying,"
You cocked your head.
"...about what?"
"That I knew Homer wrote The Odyssey,"
That drew a short laugh from you, but you could still see the nerves that were laced through Rylandβs smile.
"Right, you were just distracted,"
"I was. By you. I'm always distracted by you,"
In other words, please be true. In other words, I love you.
You took a deep breath. Heβd crossed the line for you, thrown himself onto the other side, and was waiting for you with open arms. It was just a leap of faith.
βIβm always distracted by you, too. Since the day we met,β
The song faded away, melting into the next. There couldβve been eyes on you both, either from students or from faculty, but nothing would break either of your gazes away from the other.
Ryland took a quick look around the room, before his hands took hold of your own, bringing them down between you both. He gave you a grin, one filled with more happiness than you had ever seenβand you knew your own matched his perfectlyβbefore he tugged you toward the doors of the gym.
βCome with me,β
βRy, weβre supposed to be chaperoning!β
βI donβt see Principal Marshall anywhere. Whatβs the worst she could do, fire us?β
βQuite literally, yes!β you shot back with a laugh.
Ryland only shrugged his shoulders, tugging you again, and you didnβt even try to fight back. Your feet simply moved with him.
βWorth it,β
Hands clasped together, fingers intertwined, your laughter echoed off the walls of the empty hallways as Ryland Grace ran you down them, a destination clear in his mind. Every few seconds heβd look back, just smiling at you as his eyes trailed over every single inch of you, before youβd yell at him to look at his own feet before youβd both be sprawled across the linoleum floors.
The door to his classroom was open as you flew inside, hand slipping from his as you caught yourself on the projector cart sitting in the middle of the room. Spinning on your heel, you caught his eye just as he shut the classroom door behind him, and the silence enveloped you both once more. Finally alone, no prying eyes to watch.
The momentarily confidence that seemed to seize hold of Ryland dissipated in that moment. He wiped his hands against the front of his jeans, chuckling awkwardly as he took a few steps toward you.
βWhat was your plan here, Dr. Grace?β you teased, taking a couple steps toward him as well, too high on the feeling of everything youβd just finally realized. High on the feeling of finally not denying what your heart knew long ago: you and Ryland Grace were never just friends.
βIβm not going to lie,β he shot back, coming to a stop just in front of you, barely an inch or two separating you. βI hadnβt thought this far ahead.β
βThen stop thinking,β
No one had leaned in first. It had been both of you, as if drawn together like two magnets, as your lips finally found one another's.
Goosebumps rose across your skin as Ryland Graceβs mouth moved against yours with an ease that shouldnβt exist between two people that have never kissed before. It was like a perfect dance between two partners that knew each other better than anything.
Your lips never left his, moving against his as if you couldnβt believe you had deprived yourself of this for so long, as your hands wound around his shoulders. Fingers curled into his hair, finally carding themselves through the blonde strands that felt so soft between your fingers.
The slightest little moan, enough to send heat coursing through your body the second you heard it, slipping from Rylandβs mouth into your own. His hands grasped at your hips, winding around your back to press into your lower back and tug you as close as humanly possible, as if he was a starved man that craved to touch you in any way that he could.
His lips were soft, a feeling that you knew you were going to crave for the rest of your life now that youβd had a single taste of them. You pressed further into him, a small mewl tumbling from your own lips and swallowed by his mouth as you pressed every inch of yourself into him, desperate to hang onto the moment in case the world would be cruel and wake you from this dream moments later.
The need to breathe was what finally separated you, but not far. Rylandβs forehead pressed to yours, his breath fanning out across your skin. His hands still gripped at your hips, holding him to you, as yours stayed carded through his hair, nails gently scraping at his scalp as you chest heaved as it tried to level your breathing back to normal.
βIf I havenβt made it clear already, youβre my best friend,β his words were breathy, accented by the way he was still trying to catch his breath. But his smile was bright, his eyes almost shining, as he looked down at you. βAnd Iβm completely in love with you. Literally, since the moment we met.β
You laughed, trapped in this little bubble with him, as your hands slid from his hair to instead cup his cheeks. The tip of your nose just barely brushed against his, and he bumped his right back against yours without hesitation.
βIβm completely in love with you too, Ryland Grace. Since the moment you tripped over your own two feet,β
The sound of your laughter filled the empty, dark science classroom again as Rylandβs hands came to scoop you up around your thighs, spinning you in relentless circles. All you could do was hang onto his broad shoulders and smile, his lips peppering a thousand kisses to every inch of skin he could possibly reach.
The Earth needed the Sun, like how Ryland said he needed you. The person that makes it all worth it, that makes the days brighter, that makes this short little life worth it.
who fucking litters. why do i ever see litter. who thinks thatβs okay. who. who NEEDS to throw their fast food bag out the fucking window instead of waiting until they get somewhere with a trashcan. what kinda clown behavior. get fucked.