Work Text:
“All I'm asking for is one machine.”
An expensive one, I remind myself. A really, really expensive one.
That's not to say all the equipment isn't a ridiculous amount, I've worked in so many labs over the last ten years I can hardly remember the exact cost of everything. I just know it's an absurd amount for a middle school science teacher.
An ex-middle school science teacher. Which was still hard to believe.
“It's too much.” She says flatly, as if the decision was final.
“I thought you had an unlimited bank account, I mean– you brought me here on a fighter jet for God's sake!” My voice cracks a little at the memory as a wave of nausea rushes over me and I'm quick to stifle it down. “Carl and I spent hundreds on duct tape alone.”
“A trip to the hardware store isn't relevant to what you're asking me.” Her voice is as stern as ever. I find myself wishing that sometimes she could crack a smile, even if it was at my own expense over me embarrassing myself, but that seemed like it was too much to ask in the grand scheme of things.
This machine, however, wasn't.
“It could help us speed up the process of multiplying the astrophage safely by at least a few weeks. Isn't that what we're looking for?” The back of my hands rest on the leather desk as I watch her eyes catch sight of them— and I quickly take them away. She hates when I touch her desk, or anything too close to her. I'm starting to think she just really, really hates me at this rate.
She leans forward slightly, as if only to make her statement clearer. “Dr. Grace, I haven't given any other scientist nearly as much as I have given you in terms of materials.”
I frown.
“So you're saying I'm, what– weighing you down?”
“I did not say that.”
“You implied it—”
“I'm simply saying that there needs to be more results coming from your experiments before you ask for such a thing.” Stratt cuts me off, her eyes piercing into mine as I'm the first to break eye contact. It's embarrassing, really. I feel like I just got scolded by a school teacher, even though I'm the only one with that credential in this cramped, stuffy room.
I should've known this was coming, looking back at everyone else's progress. It's not to say I've done nothing— I contributed a fair amount to this project, however…
Stratt doesn't care about that. She wasn't here to give out gold stars every time I did something right. I wasn't deserving of her praise and I sure as hell didn't need to drag our team down by asking for more than I should be. But there was a small part of me that was so desperate to prove myself at this moment, to stand up and tell her that she was wrong— that I've done more than enough— that I deserved to be here and be given this chance. That I'm more than her little lapdog.
“I can prove it.”
“And how are you expecting to do that?”
I paused. I guess I didn't think it through in the heat of the moment, but I was a doctor for God's sake. It wouldn't be the most difficult thing I've done in my career.
“Anything– I'll— I'll give you a diagram with the statistics on how it'll be faster. I could stay at the lab longer on weekends! I'll do anything.” I nearly plead. I lean forward towards the desk even as she tilts her head in disapproval, but I'm too far gone to care. I need this to work.
She nearly humms, contemplating it for the longest she has this whole meeting. Her eyes glance towards the door before they flicker back to me. Her face is as stoic as ever.
“I can think of a few ways you can prove it to me.” She begins. “But are you ready to take that responsibility on?”
I'm nodding my head before I can even realize, stumbling over my words like a fool. “Yes— I completely am. Ready for whatever.”
There's a charged silence that fills the room, one that Stratt seems unbothered by. The implication of my words hits me like a freight train as I feel my face flush a faint red. I didn’t mean like that, I wanted to say, but the words barely came out of my throat before she stood up. For a moment I was about to follow her, thinking she'd leave the room in a haste of annoyance and I'd be left behind in the dust, like I was nothing but a dog with a bird between my teeth waiting for her to acknowledge me, but she didn't leave.
She walks around the desk in slow steps, her eyes never leaving mine as I begin to understand what she was implying. It wasn't until she was leaning her upper thighs against the same side of the desk I was facing that I began to feel the gravity of the situation. This wasn't about pleasing the council of scientists in charge of the mission, but her. It was only about pleasing her, alone, in her office, in a way I never could have expected.
She reaches out tentatively, the first sign of hesitancy she's ever shown in front of me. I almost make a move to stand but she seems to sense it coming and her strong, slender hands lay on both of my shoulders, keeping me down. I have to tilt my chin up to keep looking at her, and in the pale orange light the realization that she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen dawns on me. That fact becomes more apparent when both hands begin moving slowly over my shoulders and up towards my hair. I can't help but lean into the touch, a high-pitched sound leaves the back of my throat as I feel my face warm in embarrassment.
She's looking at me, eyes trailing all around my face and hair, and as I feel the urge to pull away her hands tangle in the mess of my hair.
“Eva, please—”
A sharp tug at the back of my hair leaves me gasping.
“I didn’t say you could call me that.” She scolds, eyes narrowing down at me as I can't stop staring back at her.
“‘m sorry.” It feels like all the blood has drained out of my head and straight down into the jeans that are quickly tightening around me. This is the hardest I've probably ever been, and it's all her fault. The teasing, the staring— fuck, the hair pulling.
“You have to consent to what we are about to do, Dr. Grace.”
“Please, don't call me that.” I plead. I want her to call me Ryland. Better yet, I wanna be called hers.
Another sharp pull of hair draws another whine from me before I can stop myself. She'd probably slap my hand away from my face if I tried hiding it, and knowing myself well enough as I'm sitting in front of her, I'd probably like it.
“Ryland. You need to say yes.”
I feel my vision start to blur with how distracted I am with all these unfamiliar sensations, but she gave me a command and she's expecting a response.
“Yes— yes, please, I want this. I want you.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Prove myself.”
“And how are you going to do that for me?” She asks in the same voice she uses in our meetings. The same one she uses to command a room of misbehaving doctors and hectic soldiers. The same one I'll likely have to hear tomorrow and not get a hard on infront of a room of people, and fuck if that isn't intoxicating.
“I'll do anything, ma'am. Anything you want.” I want to keep begging, pushing my face closer to her torso just to feel more of this drug she's pouring straight into my bloodstream. I need her hands tugging my hair again, and my eyes flicker down to the black skirt and nylons covering her legs. My hands twitch against where they laid against my thighs as I dig my nails into my jeans as I gather up the courage to ask. “Can I…?”
Her voice is softened this time, leaning down but not close enough to kiss. I can't help but stare at her lips with mine agape. “Use your words, Ryland.”
Hearing my name again sends a shiver down my spine that I can't suppress. It stirs me into action, raising my hands slowly as if she'd be scared off by the sudden action before I rest them on her hips, the warmth radiating through her clothes makes it easier to relax my shaking fingers and hold on tighter. “Let me help you feel good.”
There's a small smile forming in the corner of her mouth before she lets out a single nod, and my hands eagerly slide down to the bottom of her skirt before they make their way back up, soft against her tights as the fabric bunches up around my wrists. I haven't broken eye contact yet.
“Thank you. Thank you, ma'am.” I sound out of breath even to my own ears as I finally tear my eyes away, glancing at the sight of her soft thighs in front of me as I hook my pointer and middle finger against the band of her tights and pull them down. The feeling of her bare skin against mine is enough to make my cock twitch in my pants, and yet they're barely above her knee before I can't resist the urge to lean forward and press my lips against them anymore. She lets out a small noise above me, and my eyes dart up to meet hers, all movements pausing when we lock eyes again. Her hand tugs at my hair again, anchoring me closer to where she wants me to be as she spreads her legs a little, letting me nestle right where I belong. I could die here. Eva Stratt could ask me to stay here for the rest of our miserable tiring lives and yet I'd never go hungry and she'd never go unsatisfied. I would be good for her, forever, in whatever way she asked of me, and I no longer find it a cruel fate.
It's then that my tongue darts out, licking between her wet folds and I dive further, moaning at the sensation. My hands abandoned the tights and instead bunched up the fabric of her skirt so I could get a better angle, even as her hands tug my hair closer. Every time she moves, I can't help but groan knowing she's enjoying this— she's using me like I'm nothing but her toy. And I haven't even touched myself once thinking about that.
“More.” She demands, the authority in her voice faltering as she's pulling me closer. I don't hesitate to open my mouth wider, careful of my teeth as I lick anywhere I can reach in slow and languid motions, looking up through the fog of my glasses that she's blushing. Her face nearly matches her hair color as she lets out nearly silent gasps between her lips.
I'm not very skilled in this kind of thing due to my nonexistent experience, but I know that whatever I'm doing is working. My tongue begins to flick out and flatten in all the ways that seem to matter as she grips onto my hair tighter and grinds against me. A high-pitched moan comes out from the back of my throat as I hold onto her hips, not in any attempt to move her, but more to bring her closer. She's using my face completely. Fuck.
I could nearly cum at the sounds she's making as she seems to lose her composure, and I really can't hold it in much longer. I pull back slightly.
“I'm about to cum.” I whine, barely audible through the sounds of both of us breathing heavily as that seems to snap her out of it. Her hands pushed my face back so she could get a better look at me, fingers slipping out of my hair.
“Did I say you could?” Her voice is airy and light as she tilts her head. She's mocking me. My glasses are practically sliding down my nose, I can feel my hair sticking up in all directions, and my lips are still wet. My tongue darts out, already wanting to chase the taste of her.
“No.”
“You didn’t ask. That wasn't very good of you.” Her voice is harsher now, and dread fills my stomach.
“It wasn't, but— but I can do better. I can do whatever you want. Please.” I beg. “Please, let me help.”
Her pleased demeanor seems to fade instantly as I mourn the version of her from a few seconds ago that seemed so satisfied to use me. I did something wrong, I should've been better— controlled myself better. Now she was leaning against the desk again as if she'd never touched me in the first place, her palms flat on the desk behind her. She's too far. She should be closer. If a muffled whine comes out from the back of my throat, it went unnoticed by her hardened gaze.
“All this for a machine?” She says, voice monotone.
“No!” I rush, anxiously loud before my eyes glance towards the door and back up to her. “I didn’t— It's not just that. I mean, fuck.”
This was all wrong, this was all terribly wrong.
“Tell me, Ryland. Would you be doing this if the stakes weren't so high?”
An overwhelming sense of doubt seeps into me. “Would you?”
Eva contemplates it for a few seconds. “I asked you first.”
I find myself nodding along. “I would. I will.”
“And why is that?”
This is all one big humiliation ritual at this point. My hands are still on her hips even though I loosened my grip when she pulled away, and I trace my thumb in circles against them, silently praying she doesn't pull away anymore. I want her to stay here, with me, and I want her to know how badly I want this. My voice begins to shake a little with shame. “I want you. I want… whatever you'll give me. Please, Eva.”
She ignores the mistake with her name, and it's unnerving how fast she could regain her composure while I'm still stuck drooling over the sight of her. I want to be the only one who gets to see her like this— I've never been the possessive kind before, I've never had something so good. I felt the selfish need to keep it to myself, but Eva is always the exception. I want her to be selfish with me too— I want it all.
“Please, just— say something, anything. Don't make me beg for this anymore.” My voice cracks again as I push myself forward in the chair, face level with her lower stomach as her eyes widen. I know I look like a mess, but that thought gets thrown out as she reaches out to me again.
She slips the glasses off my face in one slow, fluid motion before they clatter onto the desk somewhere to my right. I didn't care where, I just watched as that small, almost invisible smile returned.
“You may continue.” Eva says, more so as a command.
I didn't hesitate, pushing up the fabric of the skirt once again as I leaned forward, eager to get those noises out of her again as my tongue made contact with the softest part of her body again, licking between her folds so I could pay close attention to her clit all while moaning uncontrollably. With all the attention on her I nearly forgot the hard on pushing against the uncomfortable zipper of my jeans, twitching ever so slightly, and my hands ached to reach down and thrust against my own hand. My fingers tightened around the soft curves of her body as I heard her stifle a gasp above me, and soon enough her hands were tugging at the back of my hair and urging me to sink my mouth into her deeper.
My tongue reaches the rim of her hole and flicks in and out slowly, testing the waters as I hear her mumble something in a language I don't understand. What I do understand is her hand tugging on my hair again, and I continue the motions more thoroughly, deeper and deeper each time, letting one hand come to the front as my thumb begins toying with her clit as she lets out the loudest moan she has thus far.
“You're doing so good.” She whispers, one of her hands brushes the front strands of my hair away as I groan around her clit and her fingers tighten their hold. “Ryland, my saving grace.”
The words should confuse me, but I'm too far gone to notice. I slide my hands towards her ass, hoping she wouldn't scold me for doing so without asking permission, but she seems to enjoy it as I slip my tongue in and out of her hole all while my face gets covered in her, marking me as her own. I feel myself growing closer to the edge as I jut my hips forward, thrusting against nothing as I bring myself closer to the edge. My ears perk up at the sound of Eva's voice once again.
“You're doing so good, so perfect.” She gasps. “Keep going. So good.”
I can't help but pick up the pace, desperate to have her cum on my face, letting her hands guide me wherever she needs me while I sit and moan and take it. She's saying something else I don't understand, but little pieces come out in English that leave me even closer to the edge.
‘Good.’
‘Faster.’
‘Yes.’
I pull my tongue out completely, and before she can say anything, my hand wraps back around her ass to pull her closer as I suck on her clit and flick my tongue on top of it. The sound she lets out is nearly heaven to my ears as she says my name one final time in a breathless gasp, and that's all it takes for me to reach the edge of my self restraint and cum in my pants quickly after her. It's hot, physically and emotionally, as my shirt sticks to my back and I feel my boxers get drenched. It's bound to get uncomfortable, especially on the walk back to my room, but I couldn't care less.
Eva's hands let go of my hair, disappearing somewhere else as I draw myself back from her enough to pant. There was a small string of saliva connecting us that broke away off the tongue as I licked my lips. The lower half of my face is drenched, and I feel almost giddy. I don't bother to look up at her— I want to see what she looks like after she cums, but I'm shoving my face into her stomach before I can tell myself it's a bad idea. I lift my hands up, careful not to startle her, and they gently lay on the small of her back with my fingers flat against her. I sigh, still trying to catch my breath as I hope to every star in the sky she doesn't push me away yet. I forgot why I was in this room in the first place, and it all became irrelevant to me.
“You know, I would've let you finish in me if you just stayed patient and waited.” She teases quietly, and I lift my face away from her shirt to look at her incredulously. I open my mouth, ready to argue back— beg, or plead that we can go again, I can last longer a second time— but she speaks again. “I knew you wouldn't last long though, Dr. Grace.”
Ah. So we're back to the formal titles already.
That should've been a sign to pull away, but her expression was still warm. Perhaps I didn't need to, right away at least.
I'm still desperate to keep up— whatever this was— my hands start tracing stars along her back as I scramble to get my mind working again. I'm a doctor, a scientist for fucks sake, and Eva just singlehandedly fucked me stupid in under an hour.
Right, I came here to ask for approval for a machine, and then we ended up like this. I can't seem to even care about that stupid thing anymore, all I want is for her to keep her eyes on me. I could quit the whole project if she wanted me to, but I know that was all that mattered to her. She probably couldn't care less about me in the grand scheme of things, but that just makes my dick twitch with excitement at the thought of it, and all I can think about as I'm looking up at her flushed cheeks and stern eyes is that I like that about her.
“I think I still have more to prove, if you'll let me.” I pant, and I see the smallest smile creep back onto her face as I can't help but mirror the motion.
“I would have to agree, Ryland.”