Tumgik
#but no he's really just getting another bagel
htub · 10 months
Text
AU where Clark Kent is NOT Superman and just a normal human guy that's really intense about bagels. Everything else still happens
224 notes · View notes
slightlytoastedbagel · 2 months
Text
Yuka Shiraishi. btw.
#she has 20 lines at most but i love her#i'd really like for an 5 to have more yuka content... especially since ken is training vbs#ken is working them rough which for people surrounding vivid street (or at least vbs) would seem tough but understandable#but yuka is an outsider. yuka is a caring mother who still supports her daughter and her friends despite not growing up in vivid street#yuka would possibly consider this too much for the moment and try to get them to relax#and. i really want the current vbs arc to end with them relaxing a little#i don't think they'll go straight from “we're surpassing rad weekend and carrying nagi's wish”#to “we're tying ourselves down to this one event when we could go even further”#but they could definitely recognise “we're still kids we have time”#and yuka could be the one to bring that up. radder were all adults when rad weekend happened. vbs are in their second year of high school#and they're talented. so incredibly talented. kohane showed that at crawl green. akito finally realises his growth in his 4th event#toya has just came to terms with his classical music background and draws from it to write songs for the group#and an has had years of experience singing. except she also holds herself back in her want to be line nagi#which i'm almost certain will be addressed in her 5th event. and with yuka being the one who comforted an during lutf (in her card)#well. i think it would be nice for her to come back#especially as she is - again - an outsider to vivid street. she could represent how vbs can go beyond vivid street#another possibility is kohane's father. he sort of just disappeared after sdsc (at least i recall akito and an mentioning meeting him?)#and considering the impact he has on kohane (photography and his doubts regarding her sudden change in early game)#it could be nice seeing him again since with kohane/akito/toya seemingly reaching the end of a current arc in the last year#(ie the kohane and taiga plot/akito no longer feeling like he's behind the others/toya and classical music)#the next step in the group's story could be happening#half of this has nothing to do with yuka fjrjdiejd. i just like the concept of her being the group's link to going outside of vivid street#or going beyond is suppose. beyond the way...#bagel's rambles#i'm on break. watch me draw yuka design
4 notes · View notes
mashkaroom · 1 year
Text
ok in other news i need to finish what i’ve estimates to be abt 15 hours of work more or less by the end of the day today and i even took an adderall and i even slept, for no apparent reason, 16 hours today??? despite sleeping a normal amount the previous several days??? but despite being well-slept, even obscenely so, and being medicated, both of which do help a lot, the mind still resists focusing on these tasks, instead visciously desiring to learn more and more about singer’s translation process and come up with cool new dictionary features and to share this with as many people as possible. please could this wait until tomorrow
2 notes · View notes
atlabeth · 25 days
Text
pretty boy
pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary: spencer walks in one day with a new look. you handle it pretty well.
a/n: im in the opposite of a writing slump right now (will prob fall into a writing slump right after i say this) probably because im procrastinating on essays for school and i can only write when im meant to be doing work. but tiny little fluffy spencer one shots are very good for the soul right now. i think it's my way of healing from my hotch fic
wc: 1.8k
warning(s): one slightly sexual joke from emily. all fluff
Tumblr media
You usually don’t get to the office this early, but you don’t exactly have a choice. The BAU’s last couple cases have all run one after another, barely leaving you any time in the office, and now you’re paying for it. 
You’ve got a mountain of paperwork to get through and not nearly enough time to do it all—if you’re lucky, you’ll be writing reports for a few days straight. If you’re not, you’ll be putting in some overtime.  
“This is the most focused I’ve ever seen you this early,” Derek comments. 
You shake your head with a sigh. “These reports are government mandated torture.” 
He chuckles, and he nods at Emily as she walks over to her desk. “Are you this busy?” 
She shakes her head. “I’ve still got a report to get through, but nothing that bad.” 
“I get it,” you say wryly. “You’re all more organized than me. Just don’t come to me asking to go out tonight—you know I can’t say no.” 
“But don’t shots taste better when you’re supposed to be doing work?” Derek asks, and you roll your eyes with a laugh. 
“Not when I’ve got this much work I’m supposed to be doing.” 
You hear the elevator ding and glance up—Spencer’s walking through and fixing his tie. You look back down at your report as you greet him. 
“Hey, Spence,” you call. “Why’re you late?” 
“I’m not late,” he says, and you can see him checking his watch out of your peripherals. “I’m two minutes and thirty-three seconds early.” 
“Really?” you muse. “I guess I’m just so used to you being here before me.” 
“You can’t judge my timeliness on yours when you’ve been here for an hour already,” Spencer says. 
You frown, tapping your pen against the paper. “How do you know?” 
“You’re settled in already. Your coat’s on your chair, your stack of unfinished files is smaller than it was last time we were in the office, your coffee isn’t steaming, and your mug has a chipped handle—when they were put away last night, that one was set in the front, so you’d have to be here early to get it.” 
“Touche,” you murmur. You’re not sure why you ever ask your team of profilers how they know something. 
“You also look like you don’t want to be here,” he comments. “That’s pretty typical of agents who have to be here before their regular hours.” 
You chuckle and tilt your head in admission. You don’t really want to be here, especially running on so few hours of sleep. 
“Why aren’t you as early as usual?” Emily asks. 
“My neighbor knocked on my door this morning to ask me for something,” Spencer says. “It threw off my whole routine. I picked the wrong tie, I couldn’t pack my bag properly, and I had to toast my bagel for two minutes instead of three and a half to make it out in time.” 
“How terrible,” Derek says with mock austerity. 
“It is terrible!” he exclaims. “It’s scientifically proven that a morning routine makes you happier, more energized, and ready to seize the day—carpe diem.” Spencer sets his bag on the floor next to his desk and looks at everyone else with a smile. “Did you know that phrase was actually coined by the Roman poet Horace in his Odes? It comes from the first book out of four in the eleventh poem—the full phrase in Latin is carpe diem, quam mini—”
“How was your bagel?” Emily asks to interrupt him, and he pauses. 
“It was good,” he says. “Could’ve been toastier.” 
You look up, a teasing remark on the edge of your tongue, but the words die in your throat when you actually see him. 
Spencer’s started combing a hand through his hair to fix it—must have been another part of his affected morning routine—his lips set in a pout as he tries to see his reflection in his dark monitor. He always looks good, even without trying, but now—
“You’re wearing glasses,” you say dumbly. 
“My contacts dried out,” he grumbles, still focused on his hair. “We got home so late last night I forgot to put them in their solution, and I had no time to fix them because my neighbor messed up my whole morning.” 
You nod, still unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Are you gonna keep wearing them?” 
“I don’t know. Contacts are better for cases because I’m not worried about them falling off or fogging up, but I usually sleep on the jet on the way back, and sleeping with contacts in isn’t good.” He smiles a bit as he fully turns to you, seemingly satisfied with his hair. “It reduces the amount of oxygen that gets to your cornea, which damages the cornea’s surface and makes it harder to regenerate new cells. Sleeping with contacts actually makes you six to eight times more likely to get an eye infection.”
You nod again, your brain still not quite working at full power. You always love listening to Spencer’s fact dumps—it gives you a lot of material to impress your non-BAU friends with on the side, and you’re eternally thankful for that—but right now, you seriously cannot focus. 
You’d never really thought about him in glasses, but that’s probably a good thing if this is how it makes you feel. 
You were valedictorian as an undergrad, and you received stellar feedback from your professors during your masters program. You’re an excellent profiler, a valued member of the BAU, and you’re a goddamn FBI agent. 
And yet you can’t find a single thought in your head because your coworker showed up to work wearing glasses. 
He’s still rambling about other common causes of eye infection and how nobody seems to take them as seriously as they should, when Derek, not even trying to hide his grin at your turmoil, speaks up.  
“Reid. Wanna cool it a bit?” 
Spencer’s eyes dart over to him for a moment before he stops. “Uh— sorry.” He frowns as he looks back at you. “Why do you ask? Do you not like them?” 
“No,” you blurt out, and you shake your head a multitude of times. “No. They look great. You look great. They’re—” You dig your nails hard into your palm as you try your hardest to smile like normal, and this time you nod. “They’re good, Spence.” 
“Thanks.” Spencer does that little smile-nod combo of his, and he pushes his glasses back into place with his thumb by the bottom of the frames. “That’s nice to know I’ve got another option.” 
You thank whatever god may be out there that Hotch and Penelope are busy in their offices and JJ is busy with some other case, because you think you would die if anyone else saw you like this. 
“Hey, Reid,” Emily says, also not doing a very good job of hiding her amusement. You hate your team sometimes. “They’re almost out of sugar in the breakroom. If you want coffee the way you like it this morning, you should probably get in there.” 
“What?” Spencer shoots up, his brows already furrowing into a frown. “That— that’s ridiculous. I can’t mess up my morning any more.” 
“You’d better get in there, then,” she remarks. 
“We’re an entire office of agents running on coffee,” Spencer complains as he starts walking. “How are we almost out of sugar?” 
“Because half of ‘em drink it black,” Derek says, and Spencer shakes his head with a sigh as he leaves. 
“That’s ridiculous.” 
You bury your head in your hands the moment he’s gone and Derek laughs. “I wish I could’ve gotten that on video.” 
“Don’t talk to me,” you groan. “It is not fair of him to walk in like that.” 
“And that is why I call him pretty boy.”
“He needs them to see,” Emily says with amusement as she leans against the side of your desk. “You just can’t control yourself.” 
“I need to transfer offices,” you say, shaking your head. “I can’t do this.” 
“You should ask him out!” Derek encourages. “He’d probably say yes.” 
“Absolutely not,” you insist. “I doubt he likes me like that. A— and even if he does, that’s the last thing either of us need right now.” 
“I don’t know,” Emily muses. “It looks like you clearly need something.” 
You let out a frustrated noise as you screw your eyes shut. “I’m doomed.” 
You hear Spencer say your name, and when you look over at him, one hand still pressed against your head, you see he’s got two cups of coffee in his hands. “Are you okay?” 
“Yeah,” you say weakly. “I’m great. Why?” 
“I got you one too,” he says, holding one of the mugs out to you. “The one you have is probably cold by now, and it looks like you need an extra kick to get through all those reports.” 
“Thanks, Spence. That’s sweet.” He nods as you take the proffered mug, and you swear your cheeks are as warm as the coffee. He is really testing your strength today. 
“You— you have a lot,” he says, and you huff a dry laugh and nod. “I’m not trying to be sarcastic. I could take half of them if you want?” 
Your grip tightens on the mug and you can feel Derek’s eyes on you. “I couldn’t make you do that, Spence.” 
“You’re not!” Spencer exclaims. “I can get through mine really quickly—we worked together for almost the whole last case so I can do all of that anyways.” 
“...You’re sure it wouldn’t be an imposition?” 
“I’m sure,” he nods. “Besides, I offered. I wouldn’t if I didn’t want to.” 
And god damn him, because he nudges his glasses back into place again, pushes a strand of loose hair back into place. You’re dying over here. 
You set the mug of coffee on your desk and pick up the top half of your pile. “All yours, Spence.” 
He takes the bottom half and smiles at you, and you smile back before he walks back to his desk. You are dying over here. 
“Let me know how I can pay you back,” you say, and he shakes his head. 
“You don’t need to pay me back.” 
“Really?” 
Spencer nods. “I mean, Morgan invited us all out on the jet last night, and I don’t think I can do it alone. If you can get out of the office in time, I don’t have to. I think that's enough of a payback.” 
“Yeah,” you say. “I’ll be there.” 
He smiles again and nods, then he picks up a pen and focuses in. You turn back to your desk, your face burning. 
“What was that about him not liking you like that?” Derek says. 
“Quiet!” you whisper-yell, swatting him with the pile of files in your hand. “He might hear you!” 
“He’s not hearing anything while he’s focused on that,” he says. “That just means you can ogle him more.” 
You groan again, letting your forehead fall into your palm. “I’m pathetic.” 
“I think you’re right.” Emily chuckles as she stands up. “You are doomed.” 
2K notes · View notes
Text
Are You Bored Yet?
Tumblr media
Pairing: College!Bucky x Tutor!Reader
Summary: God, you hated Bucky. Bucky probably hated you, too. Maybe. It was hard to tell when he was drunk and calling you pretty at a party you shouldn't have gone to.
Word count: 8k
Warnings: Alcohol, annoyance to lovers, a bit of angst, a scary man in a parking lot, frat!bucky c:
a/n:​​​ I am so excited to finally post something!! It only took me four months 😅 If you enjoy it please please let me know ❤️❤️
Masterlist
~~
12:59 pm.
The birchwood table nestled in the back of the library was long but otherwise empty, the only thing occupying it being your laptop and quite a few books. He wasn’t late. Yet. You weren’t going to hold onto that hope, however.
Tutoring Bucky Barnes was not what you had in mind when you volunteered for the peer assistance program at your university. It was true you were only using the club to boost your resume, but you had assumed the only people reaching out for help would be those that actually wanted it. Unfortunately, that was not the case. 
Sure, Bucky wanted help. Just not with anything that actually warranted the word. He wanted help sweet talking the cops so they wouldn't shut down his parties. He wanted help recruiting girls to show up to his parties. And—the one thing you could actually do—he wanted help passing his classes with the minimum GPA required to not get kicked out of his frat. So he could continue to throw parties. 
Everything in his life revolved around his fraternity, which made you very important to him. When he wanted you to be. 
With your apparently astounding knowledge of biology (you took notes during lectures), you became the star in Bucky’s life every Monday and Wednesday from 1:00 pm (give or take ten minutes) to 2:00 pm. He was also very attentive during the thirty minute phone calls he initiated prior to tests, and always looked happy to see you when he passed you devouring a bagel at the crack of dawn in the dining hall. 
Every situation in which you had come in contact with Bucky was isolated and purposeful (minus the bagel). You didn’t hang out or invite each other places, and you were almost positive that if you were to see him in his natural habitat, you would want to tutor him even less than you did now, and that was saying something. So you were important to Bucky during the times you were supposed to be important, and he was important to you in the sense that he was a job. 
But as your laptop blinked the numbers 1:22 pm back at your unimpressed expression, Bucky became much less important today. You took in a long, tortured breath before sending your gaze up to the ceiling, giving it another three minutes before you truly gave up on him for the day. 
One minute. 
Two minutes. 
The library really needed new ceiling tiles. 
1:25 pm and you snapped your laptop shut. Your fingers itched to send yet another complaint about this whole ordeal Natasha’s way, but you stopped yourself. She had already heard plenty about Barnes at this point, plus she always gave you a weird look every time you came stomping into the apartment, grumbling about something else he had done. 
You hated her weird looks, all raised eyebrows and stiff lips.
With your backpack heaved onto the table and your things slowly funneling in, you figured a nap was the best reward for sitting in the library for an unnecessary twenty-five minutes. Your last prickle of irritation was stifled at the prospect of a warm bed as you stood, only to find that irritation had returned to you tenfold. In the form of Bucky Barnes. 
“You going somewhere?” he seemed to taunt, his bag slung casually over one shoulder. 
Your jaw ticked. “Home.” 
His mouth turned up at one side, an expression you had learned meant he found you amusing. He never seemed to outright laugh at your annoyance, but apparently, it was hard to tamp down all of the joy he got out of it. Bucky took two long strides to meet the table you were attempting to abandon. 
“But I still got about—” he checked his watch “—thirty-three minutes? And an arsenal of questions about amino acids. Help a guy out.” 
“And I still got—” you checked the nonexistent watch on your wrist “—no patience for this today. You’re over twenty minutes late, Barnes. Use that watch to set an alarm on Wednesday and I’ll tell you everything you’ll inevitably forget about amino acids then.” 
He groaned, rounding the table to set firm hands on your shoulders as he hovered behind you. “Sit. I’ll buy you a coffee and I promise I won’t be late on Wednesday, okay? I was dealing with something before this and lost track of time.” 
“Were you dealing with another sorority girl in your bed? Who was it last week? Amber? No, Michelle?” 
“It’s a Monday, y/n. Cut me some slack.” 
“You came to me on a Wednesday with a hangover,” you deadpanned.
Bucky grimaced, the expression visible to you as he managed to guide you back into your chair. “Oat milk, right? A double?” 
You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as he tossed his bag by your feet and jogged over to the coffee cart just outside the library. He fumbled with his wallet when he went to pay, and you watched him point to the carton of oat milk the barista had yet to reach for. His greek letters were printed on the gray hoodie he had haphazardly thrown over his shoulders, and you held the reprimand on your tongue when you saw the matching sweatpants he donned. 
The last time he had shown up in his pajamas—late—you’d had some choice words for him. Bucky turned around with your coffee then, poking the straw through the lid and sending you a sheepish smile through the window. 
He was lucky you accepted bribes. 
~~
“Please,” the boy across from you continued to beg, a pen held loosely between pliant fingers. “Just ask her, that’s all I want. You can even come too.” 
“Oh, wow, the great frat president letting me come to his stupid toga party? How could I ever thank you enough?” 
It was Wednesday now, and Bucky was surprisingly on time to the tutoring session. You’d gotten through about half of the last bio lecture before he started asking you ridiculous questions that had nothing to do with the content. Today, he was dead set on getting your lab partner from chemistry to go to his party this weekend. 
“Okay, yeah, you could come to whatever party you want, you know? I put you on the list—but this one will be even better if you’d just do this one thing for me.” 
You finally tore your eyes from your laptop, glancing lazily at him. “And what would make this one so—wait, what list?” 
He waved you off. “The one at the door. Did it like… the second week we started this? Anyways, Wanda?” 
You let this new information settle and tried to ignore whatever implications came with being on some frat list thanks to Bucky. He had never explicitly invited you to any of his parties over the past few months and you had never asked to come. Apparently, you could have shown up whenever you wanted to and had a grand old time. 
Not that that sounded the least bit grand. 
Bucky was looking at you still, all pleading features and a soft, infuriating smile on his lips. When he wasn’t talking to random girls in the library or taking annoying phone calls in the middle of your sessions, he was sort of endearing. In a terrible, awful sense. 
You groaned, throwing yourself back against your chair in begrudging defeat. “I don’t even talk to her outside of chem. Don’t you think it’d be a little weird to invite her to a party that I’m not even going to?” 
“So come,” he answered simply, as if that was in the realm of possibilities. 
“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Sure, I’ll come to your party, Barnes.” 
“Great,” he grinned. “Vision’s gonna be so hyped.” 
You watched as he pulled his phone from his pocket and kept your lie to yourself. He wouldn’t notice that you didn’t show up on Friday, and likely wouldn’t even bring it up the following Monday. He always had such vibrant, headache-inducing stories that you were sure your absence would be nothing more than a fleeting footnote. 
“You have a toga, right?” he mumbled, face still screwed up in concentration as he continued his text. 
“Isn’t it just a sheet all twisted up?” you asked, shutting your computer. Tutoring was obviously over. 
Bucky pocketed his phone again, brows raised in amusement. “Depends on your motives for the night.” 
“And my motives wouldn’t be to… wear a toga?” 
He chuckled and huffed out your name, resting an arm along the back of the chair to his right—your chair. “Other motives. Like if you’re trying to get someone’s attention.” 
You blinked at the warmth along your back. “Oh, of course. Then I would twist up a pillowcase instead, right?”
“Something like that.” 
He smelled like coconut. Like a day at the beach but afterwards, when the sunscreen still lingered in the air but fresh clothes covered skin that had been warmed by the sun. You could usually ignore whatever expensive combination he had on his skin, but when he got close like this it was almost impossible. 
Part of you always wanted to chuck his arm away when he leaned over you, but another part of you liked that he kept it there. It was a strange part of you, the same one that relished the looks you got from sorority girls in the library and harbored a sense of pride each time he made a blatant attempt to touch you. 
You had spent fleeting moments analyzing these emotions and chalked them up to some internalized desire for validation. Nothing else. Bucky was a hot guy and everyone knew that, so having his attention—in any capacity—felt nice. Sometimes. Meaning right now it was nice that he was looking at you with his arm practically glued to your back, but next week when he showed up late with a hangover and tried to steal the jacket off your body it would be not so nice. 
The duality of man. 
It helped your partial insanity that Bucky would never actually be interested in you. You weren’t in a sorority or interested to his parent’s money, and, worst of all, you didn’t know how to maneuver a sheet into a toga. When he put his arm around you or moved your hair from your eyes as you leaned over a book, it was probably out of habit. It felt nice, but you knew reality. This was a passing phase, and by the summer you wouldn’t even speak to him anymore.
“I’ll text you more info about everything,” Bucky called, pulling you from your thoughts. “You can come early and I’ll help you with that pillowcase.” 
You froze, the book you were shoving into your bag pausing in your hands. “Uh, maybe.” 
“No, seriously, it’d be better if you came early. I was kidding about the pillowcase but if you come on time it’ll be too crazy for me to show you around.” 
“You don’t have to show me around, Bucky. I’ve been to a house party before.” 
“Y/n, are you not coming to this thing?” Bucky accused, swiping the book from your hands and softly tossing it on the table. It still made a loud thud that had a few bitter looks thrown your way. 
“Dude!” you whispered, meeting each mean gaze with your apologetic one. “Why does it matter if I come? You just wanted Wanda anyway.” 
He knocked your hand away when you went to reach for the book again, encircling your wrist with his fingers. “You just lied to me. Straight to my face. You said you’d come and now you gotta.” 
You gave his fingers an experimental tug, but he was unrelenting in his soft grip. You glared at him through your lashes, meeting his uncharacteristically stern gaze that contrasted the humor on his lips. 
“You ever hear of sarcasm?” you whispered with a half-hearted bite. 
“Unfortunately, that’s about all I hear outta you,” he smirked back. 
You rolled your eyes, finally yanking hard enough to free yourself from him. “Then you should have known I wasn’t going to come. No matter what ‘list’ you put me on.” 
“What else could you possibly have going on on a Friday night?” 
Ouch. You felt your brows furrow even though you didn’t will them to, and even worse, you felt a rash defensiveness lodge itself in your throat. You hated the heat that now prickled along the skin of your neck, and you hated even more how it extinguished all of the good warmth you had felt from him earlier. 
This was humiliation, surely—the kind that only came from feeling small. 
“You don’t have to be a dick,” you seethed, snapping up the remainder of your belongings. “Just because I don’t want to go to your stupid frat doesn't mean I have nothing to do. I don’t spend all of my time hoping to get invited to ridiculous parties.” 
Bucky shifted up in his seat, eyes blown just a fraction wider. “Whoa, I didn’t mean—hey, stop a sec, I didn’t mean it like that.” 
“Whatever, Bucky,” you droned, as a new temperature seeped into the skin of your palms and made them clammy. Any semblance of delusion you’d fallen into earlier was long gone now, but you knew to expect that. He wasn’t interested in you and you weren’t interested in him. But embarrassment wasn’t a good feeling, regardless of a multitude of reality checks. 
Bucky got up when you did, his clothes looking creased and lived in. “We still have time in our session,” he defended, arm jutting out to the table. “C’mon, I didn’t mean you don’t have friends.” 
Your glare sharpened. “Great, another insinuation.” 
Bucky sputtered out incoherent words as you continued your trek outside, resorting to grabbing your wrist again, this time with more urgency. You felt the heat in you simmer down to a dull throb as he made contact, mostly out of respect for your future self. If you made this a huge deal it would only embarrass you more. 
“Look, it doesn’t even matter, okay?” you huffed, but he just tugged you forward. It was then that you realized you were in the doorway of the library, effectively blocking it off from anyone trying to leave. Bucky pulled you close enough to his chest that you weren’t in the way anymore. His cologne was back with a vengeance, your nose just inches from his collar.  
You took a steadying breath, blinking away the remnants of shame. “It doesn’t matter, I overreacted.” 
He clicked his tongue. “I’m still apologizing. I didn’t mean any of that stuff you were talking about.” 
Of course he did. You were sure he thought it all the time. He just didn’t mean to say it out loud. 
“It’s fine,” you rushed. “I have to go, anyway. Office hours.” 
“Okay,” he nodded, soft and low, like he just remembered he was in a library. “You’ll still come this weekend, right? Even if Wanda can’t?” 
“You have some kind of girl quota you need to meet?” you pressed.
Bucky smiled, still so close to you that you could feel the small breath that accompanied the expression. “And she’s back.” 
You left without promising anything, and Bucky left feeling like you had. 
~~
Sometime between Wednesday and Friday, your detestment for frat parties had snowballed into determination. You were going to go and you were going to look like you were having so much fun it was ridiculous. Then, on Monday, when Bucky would usually poke and prod about what you’d gotten up to over the past few days, you were going to pretend that it was nothing for you. That you did that every weekend. 
Of course, you didn’t. Your weekends typically consisted of calm nights with friends or dinners near campus. You’d been to a party before, sure, but you didn’t exactly frequent those kinds of scenes. 
Bucky had continued to make it clear that you were invited. He had texted you a few times, prompting you to come and thanking you for getting Wanda to agree. The messages looked strange under the plethora of biology related questions, but that just spurred you further into action. You weren’t just a tutor with no social life, and Bucky was going to see that tonight. You couldn’t remember doing something out of pure spite before, but you figured having fun to prove a point wasn’t the worst thing. 
Wanda pulled you out of your thoughts as the Uber rounded the last dark corner and revealed an overcrowded house with too many lights on. She rambled on about some guy she couldn’t wait to see and confirmed that she would likely be spending the night. You expected as much; it hadn’t taken much convincing to get her to come. If this night resulted in anything good it was apparently the blossoming relationship between your new friend and a man you’d never met. 
Wanda continued to chat as she yanked you out of the car and past the yard littered with sparse grass. The music was loud already—the type of loud that you needed to be at least a little drunk to enjoy. And that was the plan. 
“Okay, if I start dancing on a table you pull me down. And if you start dancing on a table I support you, right?” Wanda giggled, her voice now raised as you walked past the threshold of the house. 
“Exactly,” you yelled back. A guy nodded to you as he leaned against the front door, his eyes glancing up from his phone and then returning. It seemed Bucky’s ‘list’ was a page on some guy’s notes app. How luxurious. “Let’s drink.” 
The next hour was a blur. You tried your hardest to get as drunk as possible and Wanda tried her hardest to find the British man she was enamored with. You hadn’t seen Bucky, but you figured he wasn’t looking for you too hard since you hadn’t responded to any of his texts. Not out of anger, but because you didn’t know what to say. Somehow, with alcohol warming your blood and music vibrating your skin, none of that mattered anymore. 
You: Your house is soooo dirty
Your phone jostled in your grip, people bumping into you from every side. When he didn’t answer in the thirty seconds you spent staring at the screen, you locked it and continued on with your mission. 
After a few too many shots of hard liquor, you switched to beer. Gross, but decidedly less likely to make you pass out on the staircase of this house. Because you weren’t lying in your text—it was slightly disgusting. You figured you should clarify that with Bucky. You reached for your phone once again, knocking your head against the wall in the process and giggling to yourself. You had no idea where Wanda went. 
The device was snatched from your hands just as quickly as the screen had lit up your face. 
“You ever answer this thing?” an accusing voice called out. “Or do you just insult people and put it on do not disturb?” 
The look on Bucky’s face would have made you roll your eyes in any other circumstance. Right now, however, it had a startled laugh bursting past your lips. You clutched at your stomach as the laugh grew and you found yourself tipping forward until your forehead met his chest. You felt delirious, almost silly. A hand came around to rest on the back of your neck.
“Alright, alright.” Bucky’s words rumbled against your face. “I get it, this is hilarious.” 
“Your… your face,” you breathed out, catching your breath enough to part from him. “It was all—” you mimicked the straight line of his eyebrows, voice raising in a mocking tone. “—You don’t ever answer your phone. You’re so boring, y/n, answer your phone.” 
“I didn’t call you boring. Hey—hey,” Bucky stressed, reaching for you as you leaned too far to the side, a smile still lingering on your face. “Jesus, y/n, how much did you have to drink?” 
You went to mock him again, but his fingers on your jaw stopped you. He tilted your head up and to the left, and although he was much more composed than you were, you could still smell the alcohol on his breath. You scrunched up your nose as he continued his inspection. 
“Why’re you being so uptight?” you slurred, trying and failing to push away from him. “I thought you were all like, ‘I’m Bucky and I party and get drunk and have sex with girls.’”
Bucky pulled you forward as you laughed at your impression of him, his shaking head making you blink away a bout of dizziness. You toppled over a set of stairs as he threaded his fingers through yours, and then you stumbled through a doorway and onto carpeted floors. Being pressed into an uncomfortable chair was the most jarring action, the world still spinning as you sat. 
“You’re even more mean when you're drunk,” you heard Bucky mumble. You couldn’t quite catch him as he moved around whatever room you were in. “And I don’t talk like that.” 
You let out a careless sigh and leaned back. “You soooo talk like that.” 
Something cold pressed to your hand, followed by another touch to the back of your neck. You gazed down at the water bottle being guided up to your lips and couldn’t find it in you to fight against it, despite the small spark of defiance on the tip of your tongue. After about four large swallows, Bucky was satisfied. 
He asked again how much you’d had to drink. 
You answered that you didn’t know—that it didn’t matter because he wasn’t your dad and you were having fun like you always did. He bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t say anything for the next few moments. 
And then, “Thought you weren’t gonna come tonight.” 
You hummed, rolling your head against the chair to look up at his standing form. “Of course I was going to come. I love parties. Love drinking alcohol.” 
His expression twisted into something you couldn’t recognize. “God, you’re so drunk.” 
“M’not even that drunk!” 
“You’re willingly in my room right now. You’re plastered.” 
“Maybe I want to be in your room.” 
“We both know that’s not true.” 
You chuckled breathily, closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see the pretty flush of Bucky’s face. “You think you know everything, don’t you? Don’t know much about me though. Or biology.” 
Bucky kneeled down to the height of the chair. “And what do I not know about you?” 
“So much.” 
“How much?” 
You bit into your lip and cracked an eye open, catching the amusement that had slipped past the strange mask of his emotions. With blissful ignorance, you heaved yourself forward on the chair, your nose a few inches from Bucky’s. His eyes didn’t waver from yours as you swayed. 
“You don’t know that I’m the most interesting person on Earth,” you boasted, fingers gripping the upholstery of your seat. 
“That right?” Bucky probed, his voice a melodic hum. 
“Yup, I’m always really busy and even though you think I’m some boring biology tutor I’m actually super cool and, like, go to raves and stuff.” 
His brow twitched but his mouth stayed soft. “I’ve never said you were boring. And I don’t think you’ve ever been to a rave.” 
You groaned loudly and flopped against the backrest of the chair. “See! I’m telling you I do all this cool stuff and I’m so drunk my fingers are buzzing and you still don’t believe me.” 
You crossed your arms with a huff, a small pout forming on your lips. In any other context, this behavior would probably embarrass you to no end. In the dim light of Bucky’s room where you felt the feeling leave your fingers and the care leave your mind, you were just disgruntled, not embarrassed. If you remembered this tomorrow the latter would surely catch up to you.
Bucky stared at you from his spot on the ground, his gaze a bit foggy and unfocused. He was clearly intoxicated, as you deduced earlier, and it made him look more wild. Mused hair and pink cheeks, he looked like he’d been having plenty of fun before he found you. It was distracting. He was distracting you from proving that you were having a blast.
“What?” you snapped, the tone a testament to the drunken fit you were throwing. 
“You’re so fucking pretty.” 
He must be really, really drunk. Despite your clouded mind, you knew that, but the words affected you just the same. Your lips parted as a new lightness both lit up and compressed your chest, and Bucky watched the movement. 
“Yeah,” you scoffed, but it was hardly a scoff. “Sure, Bucky. How much did you have to drink—” 
“I’m not lying. I’ve thought about you in my room for weeks and now you’re here and you’re so pretty. Even when you’re yelling at me.” 
“You’ve… thought about me in your room?” 
Bucky shuffled forward and you subconsciously parted your legs to allow the space for him. “I think about you everywhere.” 
This was crazy. It was certifiably insane. A voice in the back of your head—Natasha’s voice, it sounded like—was screaming at you to stop and think about the situation at hand. He was drunk, you were even more drunk, and he was far too close to you. He had ushered you in here with good intentions and had sobered you up a fraction, but things had taken a turn and this was a sensitive situation. The kind of sensitive that altered your reality and his and probably a bunch of other people’s you’d never met. 
Or it could be nothing and you were over exaggerating. 
But then Bucky’s hand was warming your thigh. You’d felt the press of it on your back and your shoulder and your head before, but it had never been on your thigh. It felt heavy there, hot. His other hand moved to touch your face and he propped himself up on one knee. His thumb brushed your cheek. Words tumbled from your mouth before you registered that you were speaking. 
“Are you going to kiss me?” 
Why would you ask that? Who asks Bucky Barnes if he’s going to kiss them? 
“Would you let me?” he responds. 
“Yes.” 
He didn’t waste any time, his mouth hot against yours. He tasted like mint and vodka and his lips moved so slowly it ached. You had expected a fervor behind his lips, but instead you got a build up, an orchestra reaching its crescendo. He was kissing you like you were important, like this wasn’t some random hookup in his bedroom at 1 o’clock in the morning, and you had to catch your breath when he parted from you. 
But he moved back in so quickly after your brief respite, and you were eager to give him more. This was crazy, insane. This was the best kiss you’d ever have and also the worst. This was months of staring at his stupid lips when he tried explaining concepts back to you, but this was also weeks of feeling small in his presence. Bucky slid his hand back to press against your hair and you didn’t feel small anymore. 
A loud thud from the hallway interrupted the silence you’d created, and Bucky pulled back, keeping his hands on you as he craned his neck around to stare at the door. He waited a beat, and then two, and then he turned back to you. The moment was gone, but he was still touching you. You weren’t sure what you wanted—if you wanted him to kiss you again or run out the door—but when he slid his hands from your body and rubbed them down his jeans, it became clear that was not what you wanted. 
A knot formed in your stomach when he met your gaze again, and you tried blinking the feeling away. It didn’t work. 
“Um,” Bucky began, his voice sounding more clear, his tone not holding the weight it had.
Your plan had backfired. Severely. This was a mess and you needed to save yourself before you ended this night even more humiliated.
You were still drunk. Pretend you were still plastered. 
You giggled airily, the sound burning your throat. “That was loud.” 
Bucky blinked at you in what you assumed was disbelief. “Probably just someone trying to find the bathroom,” he clarified.
You shrugged, nudging him back with your knee as you stood from the chair. “I’m bored now.” You took fast steps to the door, your words foreign to you. “Thanks for the water,” you all but gritted out. 
You expected him to get up. Not to run after you or proclaim his love or even say anything. But you expected him to get up. 
He didn’t, and you couldn’t understand how the knot in your stomach had moved to your throat. Or how it made tears spring to your eyes when your feet hit the sidewalk outside. Your Uber came and you couldn’t understand how you felt hot and cold at the same time. How it was freezing outside but you were sweating. 
You couldn’t understand why you were crying over a boy that so often infuriated you, or why he kissed you in his bedroom. The reasonable side of you sent gentle reminders that he was in a frat and kissing people is just what he did. All the time. But the unreasonable side of you won out tonight, and it was telling you that this felt different.
That you should be different, somehow.
~~
Bucky: You’re here???
Bucky: Where are you?
Bucky: Y/n answer your damn phone
Bucky: This place is fucking packed tonight I thought you weren’t coming 
You stared at the text messages you hadn’t read last night, the bright light of your phone burning into your retinas. You had a brutal hangover, and the memory of the disaster in Bucky’s room felt like an even bigger one. 
You’d gone through a myriad of emotions the night before, tossing around excuses and speeches in your head until you were so exhausted you let the alcohol in your system lull you to sleep. With all of that delirious thinking, you’d landed on blacking out. You were going to tell Bucky you blacked out last night and couldn’t remember a thing. He obviously wouldn’t care and would probably appreciate it. 
Saturday was slow-moving. Reruns of television shows and bags of popcorn and overthinking. Natasha was at her parent’s house in the city, so you had no one to bounce your racing thoughts off of. You certainly weren’t going to text her about it. 
When the evening finally rolled around and your attempts at distracting yourself with mind-numbing movies failed, you checked your email. You always tried not to on the weekends, but doing anything else sounded much less appealing. 
Unfortunately, you didn’t get past the first one. 
From: University Peer Assistance Program 
Dear Y/n Y/l/n, 
This is an automated message from the campus peer assistance program. We thank you for your continued devotion to the betterment of students at this school. At this time, your tutoring placement with James Barnes has ended. We will search for a new placement to fill your current hours. 
Thank you, 
University Peer Assistance 
You blinked at the email, then blinked again. The breath left your chest and the muscles on your face twitched, but you were otherwise frozen.
This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? To be free from the haughty frat boy that didn’t even listen to you when you tried to help him raise his grades. You wanted someone nice, someone that had the same goals as you and appreciated the color-coded notes you took for them. Bucky only tried to get a rise out of you. He sat too close and made fun of you and put you on lists you didn’t ask to be on. 
But he had kissed you. He had kissed you and then tutor-dumped you. 
You knew you weren’t his type, but were you really that bad? Was the kiss so terrible? 
Every inferiority complex you had developed exploded. You over-analyzed things that had already happened, things you had said. Not just at the party, but in the library, the coffee shops, the lecture halls. 
Was he really willing to risk his position in the frat just to avoid you? 
The strangle tickle of tears itched to be released from your eyes again, but you pressed it down. No, this wasn’t on you. He had kissed you. He had dragged you into his room and stumbled on pretty words. If he didn’t want you to tutor him anymore because of his stupid mistake, fine. 
His mistake. 
That word felt wrong. 
You tossed your phone on the couch with vigor. The clock above the television read out 10 pm, but that meant little to you as you slid on your shoes at the front door. You were wearing sweatpants and a jacket that was far too big on you, sadness and frustration and raw confusion propelling you down your apartment stairs. 
Ice cream would fix this. 
The only place open at this time was the gas station at the edge of campus. It wasn’t university affiliated and was usually overrun with belligerent greek life trying to buy alcohol, but the decision-making part of your brain was currently shut off. 
Ice cream, anger, probably watching tiktoks until your eyes were too heavy to keep open—those were the only things rattling in your head. 
You yanked open the gas station door after your short walk, the glass smudged and fogged from the cold night. The fluorescent lights aggravated the headache you’d been sporting all day and the floor made sticking noises with each step you took. To add insult to injury, there were only three cartons of ice cream left, and they weren’t even the good flavors. Grabbing the least offensive one, you made your way to the small line of people by the register. 
“Nice outfit.” 
Too enthralled by the disappointing ingredient list on the side of your ice cream, you had missed the tall man now looming at your shoulder. You whipped your head around with a start, taking a step back, smelling menthol and asphalt and nothing good. 
“Thanks,” you quietly replied. 
He waited until you turned back around to continue. “You go to school over here?” 
You kept your gaze forward. “Um, yeah.” 
“Nice. I graduated a few years back. Marketing.” 
“Cool,” you replied. What had compelled you to leave your phone on the couch? This night sucked. 
You found reprieve in the line moving, the employee calling you over to check out. As soon as you paid—a few dollar bills funneled out of your pocket with shaky hands—you booked it. Your ice cream burned in your palm but you didn’t care, feet carrying you out the door and into the dimly lit parking lot. You fisted your keys in your fingers; pointless, you knew, but a small comfort. 
The man’s voice returned with the chime of the bell over the gas station door. “Wait! Wait, I’m Beck. I own a business nearby.” 
You should have kept walking, but one of your fatal flaws was, apparently, people pleasing. You turned to him. He smiled at you but it made your stomach twist. 
“Oh, nice,” you responded, rocking back on your heels. 
“We should connect. Maybe go for coffee or something?” He took a step forward. You fought the urge to take one back. His beard was unkempt and he held a six pack in his white-knuckled grip. 
“Um, I don’t know. I’m pretty busy with finals coming up. Plus, I’m not really in the business field.” 
“Not for business then,” he smiled again, teeth dull in the streetlight. 
Just agree. If you agreed you could block him soon after and everything would be fine. 
You took too long to answer. He took the final step forward to arrive in your space and wrapped his fingers around your bicep. “C’mon, I’m not asking you to marry me or anything.” 
Frozen by fear, you let out a weak laugh. The pint in your hand was sticking to your skin now in a way that would be painful when you tried to let go of it later. Your breath rattled in your chest when you laughed again. 
“Sure, okay.” But he didn’t let go of your arm, instead sliding it down to the bone of your wrist. 
“What about now?” he posed. “You don’t look too busy. I can make you something at my place.” 
He was at least ten years older than you. You attempted to pull yourself from his grasp to no avail. Maybe reasoning would work. 
“My roommate's waiting for me,” you lied. “Could you let go? I sprained my wrist at the gym last week,” you lied again. 
He refused with a shake of his head. You took a panicked glance inside the gas station to your right. No one was looking. 
“Please let go of me.” 
The call of your name from the other side of the parking lot initially sent more unbearable fear down your spine. But then the owner of that voice registered in your brain, and although it had been the cause of your recent internal strife, you couldn't be more grateful to hear it. 
He said your name again, closer now and questioning. Bucky jogged up to the pair of you, saw your wrist and the man holding it hostage, and looked back up at you with confused, wild eyes. 
“You know this guy?” he asked, jutting his thumb out at Beck.
“No,” you whispered. The word was short but the syllable still trembled. 
Bucky didn’t look confused anymore. He looked pissed. “Wanna take your fucking hands off her?”
Beck was tall, but Bucky was taller. And angry. Beck released your wrist and raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Whoa, man, no need for the theatrics. I’m guessing you’re here to stock up for a party? I used to be in Sigma Nu.” 
When Bucky’s silent glare failed to dampen, Beck continued with, “We were just planning a night at my place, right?” 
His nod in your direction made your breath catch. Bucky took his piercing gaze off of Beck and softened it as it fell on you. You wanted to respond, but words were gone. They were impossible. Your ice cream was melting. 
“Yeah, I think we’re done here,” Bucky scoffed, placing his arm around your shoulder. He guided you past the wall of a man, making sure to drive his shoulder into his chest as he went. Beck went to say more, to protest or whine, but Bucky shot him such a scathing look it almost made you wither. 
The smell of coconut and spices and a hint of whisky met your nose, and it was familiar. It was safe. You fumbled with the keys in your hands as your feet guided you wherever Bucky was going, and then you fumbled even more, soft jingling disrupting the softness of footfall. God, why wouldn’t you stop shaking? 
A hand fell atop yours, crunching the keys to a halt. You stared down at them, unsteady breath hitting the tanned fingers that served as your current anchor. 
“Look at me, y/n.” 
You couldn’t. You couldn’t do anything. 
“Sweetheart, eyes up. All you gotta do.” Bucky’s voice was as soft as it was last night. That was the only reason you were able to follow his request. “There she is,” he hummed. 
He removed his arm from your shoulders and shifted in front of you, placing his hand on your cheek. You ignored that it felt the same as it had last night. You ignored that you wanted it to feel the same for him, too. 
“You okay?” he asked, tilting his neck down to better see your face. His thumb brushed under your eye. “He hurt you?” 
You shook your head, whispering no, whispering that you were fine. 
Bucky nodded to himself, eyes tracking down to your toes and then back up again. He must have mistaken your shaking for coldness because the next thing he did was guide you into the car behind him. You didn’t know it was his.
He blasted the heat the second he got in. He had shuffled you into your seat with his hands before that, smoothed your hair down and closed the door after you were settled and not shaking as hard. The heat dried out your eyes. It distracted you enough to let words form. 
“Thank you,” you said. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t bring my phone with me. I should’ve.” 
“Of course.” 
There was a beat of silence. The relief you had felt earlier had been muddled down to an awkward pit in your stomach, and you weren’t sure if Bucky felt it too or if he was still riding a testosterone-fueled adrenaline high. 
You wanted to go home now; this was uncomfortable and you had felt Bucky’s lips on yours less than twenty-four hours ago with no closure. He obviously didn’t want to be around you. This was probably a responsibility thing for him. 
“I can… I can walk home now. The guy left. I’m just a quarter mile away and you probably have to stock up or whatever.” 
He looked at you with a pinched expression. “I’m not letting you walk home after that. You kiddin’ me?” 
“I’ll be fine, really. I walk over here all the time.” 
“You get harassed all the time too?” 
“No…” 
“Exactly. So you’re not walking home.” 
“Bucky—” 
“Look I’m not gonna kiss you again, alright? So you don’t have to turn down a ride because of that.” 
Your ice cream was soup at this point. You let it roll into your lap as you clamped your mouth shut just to open it again. Bucky ran a rough hand through his hair before dropping it on the steering wheel, clutching at it with no place to go. 
“I’m not following,” you finally relented. 
A loud sigh released from his nose. “You don’t have to worry about me kissing you again. I just want to make sure you get home safe and then I’ll leave you alone.” 
“Worry about—you’re the one trying to avoid me,” you snapped, frozen fingers pointing to your chest. “You tutor-dumped me.”
“Tutor-dumped? How do you…” he trailed off. 
“I get an email when you make a change request, Bucky.” 
He stared at you for a moment, lips parted and unmoving. He clenched his jaw a moment later, a red tint adorning his cheeks. 
“Well, you—you—look, I know you don’t like me, y/n. You’ve made that clear,” he stuttered, words getting louder as he moved his hands around with each one. “But I like you. I like when you get mad at me and when you yell at me for not listening and when you get all embarrassed when I play with your hair. And I’ve been trying to get you to come to one of my parties since we started this whole thing, but every time I talk about them you seem to like me even less. 
“If I had known insulting you would get your attention, I woulda done that week one,” he exasperated. You sat up in your seat but he continued. “I didn’t mean any of that shit you thought I did. You’re not boring. And I didn’t mean to kiss you, but you looked—well, I already told you.” 
“So you don’t want me to be your tutor anymore because you like me?” You spoke slowly, each word careful. 
“No,” he sighed, frustrated. “I can’t be around you because I kissed you and you didn’t care. Because I’ll want to kiss you all the time and you didn’t even wanna kiss me once. I know we were drunk, I get that, but I’ve wanted that for a long time and I need to move on. It’s nothing against your… tutoring skills. If that’s what you’re worried about” 
“But you talk about hooking up with other girls all the time, Bucky. To me.” 
“You ever hear of lying?”
“Why would you—” 
“You really gonna make me live out all of my failures with you?” 
You’d read so many things wrong. Taken so many things the wrong way. You figured the email earlier was the final nail in the coffin, but this was something else entirely. This was Bucky, sitting next to you in his car looking distressed and frazzled with his hair six different directions, telling you that he’s been trying to get your attention since he met you. That you weren’t small or insignificant or boring. 
It was probably a terrible idea to follow through with your next thought. You’d probably get hurt in the long run. But you did it anyway. 
“I wanted you to kiss me.” Bucky’s head whipped towards you. You bit the inside of your cheek and said, “I want you to kiss me all the time.” 
He whispered your name. It sounded like the air had left every corner of his body. But he didn’t move, and you needed to rectify that. 
“You’re infuriating,” you began. Bucky cringed, but you needed to explain as he had. “You’re like the antithesis of everything I want out of college. You don’t care about classes. You’re always late. You talk too loud in the library.” 
You took a deep breath, fiddling with the loose thread of your pants. You couldn’t make eye contact with anything but the ground. 
“But then you know my coffee order when I’ve never told it to you. You save me from losers in parking lots and make sure I’m not drunk out of my mind at your obscene party. You make me feel… you make me feel stupid sometimes. And I thought it was because you’re everything I’m not, but I really think it’s because you’re everything I told myself I should stay away from. But I don’t want to.
“I wanted you to kiss me at that party and I want you to kiss me now.” 
“Then get over here. I’m not kissing you over some bullshit center console.” 
You twisted to follow his directions, gasping as his hands clasped around your waist to tug you into his lap. It wasn’t seamless—there was laughing and your head briefly connected with the roof of the car��but Bucky’s touch was everywhere, soothing the uncertainty and fear and slight headache. 
His forehead connected with yours when you felt secure in his arms. His fingers slid down from your waist over the material of your sweatpants and when he spoke next you felt the words on your own lips.
“You’re wearing sweatpants. You get so mad when I wear sweatpants.” 
You laughed. “I get mad because it usually means you just rolled out of bed, and you’re usually. late.” 
“I got a secret,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours. “I’m never late. And I only wear those sweatpants around you. You get cute when you’re pissed at me.” 
“Well, I’m about to be really cute—”
He kissed you. You’d have plenty of time to argue later.
5K notes · View notes
jarofstyles · 5 days
Text
Leather & Lace
Tumblr media
Hello my angels and welcome to Leather and Lace!!! We’ve got a very cute 3 parter (I’ve finished writing it) coming in for you guys. We love a good grumpy x sunshine and couldn’t help ourselves writing another one. Please leave us feedback! We love to hear from you
Check out our Patreon for early access to parts 2&3, as well as 170+ exclusive writings!
Wc- 8.2k
Warnings- oral sex, praise kink, soft Dom h, opposites attract, cum play/swapping
---------
“How can you be this happy in the morning?” Harry grunted, hoodie pulled over his head as he sat down next to a bubbly Y/N. Her couch was comfortable but it didn’t make up for the fact that he was at her flat at 8 in the morning. 
“It’s not that early, lazy bones.” She hummed, tucking her legs under her as she sat down on the other side. “Thank you for coming to help today, by the way. I know you don’t like getting up early.”
He really didn’t, was the thing. He hated it. Harry only had so many days off and after working a long shift bartending last night, the very last thing he wanted to do was help someone unpack in their new flat. He’d rather claw at concrete than be awake right now, rather eat a raw egg, rather go through tattoo removal. If it was anyone but Y/N he would have laughed in their face at the mere ask. 
But it was her. It was twinkly eyed, pouty lipped, warm hearted Y/N who had asked him a week in advance and promised him a bagel with cream cheese and an iced coffee for brekkie, whatever he wanted for lunch, and ‘whatever he wanted in general!’. Little did she know he was going to say yes anyway, considering he knew he couldn’t say no to her sweet little ask with her smaller hand on his tattooed arm and wide eyes peering up at him. He wasn’t someone who liked to do things for many people without there being some sort of monetary gain, but this was different. 
Y/N had somehow latched herself onto one of the grumpiest bastards in the area while she herself was one of the sweetest girls he’d ever seen. Rarely spoke a mean word of anyone (except when they hurt someone close to her), went out of her way to help anyone who needed it and always wanted to be a shoulder to cry on. He’d seen her take money from her own wallet to cover someone’s bill when they were short, even seen her rush to help an elderly man across the street. It got her into trouble sometimes which was why he was glad that he’d been the hip she’d chosen to attach to. 
Their first interaction had been him sitting in the courtyard of their uni, listening to music under the tree. He’d had his sketchbook in hand, doodling in between classes when he looked up to see a girl with a pretty yellow bow in her hair offering him a cupcake because he looked ‘sad.’. He had been sad, actually, but that was pretty much his normal resting face. He’d tried to blow her off but she’d taken a seat next to him, introducing herself and telling him about her own day to ‘distract him’. He hated to admit that it worked. 
From then on, she popped up everywhere. At first he’d been a bit worried that she was following him but it truly was a coincidence. Y/N had found her way under his skin, wriggled her way into that cold heart of his and made it warm up just a little each time she came around. At some point she’d become a daily fixture in his life, her texts lighting up his phone with emojis and telling him to meet her at the cafe or the library- and for some reason, he followed.
“Mmm. Know y’wanted me here to see me get all sweaty. If y’wanted to see my tats and muscles so badly, you coulda just said so, Sweets.” He smirked, watching her eyes widen. So easy to fluster. 
“No! Stop teasing me, s’not nice.” She grumbled, poking his knee with her socked foot. She’d chosen lavender striped ones today. “I don’t have a lot of strong friends, you know that. Niall’s comin’ by after work to help you put the bedframe together and move the books from the car. Besides, I’ll let you sleepover and everything after we’re all done. I know you loveeeee my bed.”
He did. But more than anything he liked laying in said bed with her. Harry had a hard time admitting he had begun to gain feelings for the girl but deep down he knew he did. He liked that she insisted on cuddles, curling her leg around his and nuzzling her face into his chest, or even better yet the crook of his neck. Loved when she’d sleepily ask him questions about his life and tell him facts about her own. She resembled a tiny kitten while sleepy, insistent on getting all of the pets and attention. 
Harry had decided he wasn’t the relationship type after his last girlfriend had cheated on him with his old best mate- but meeting Y/N had reminded him of the die hard romantic that laid underneath the surface. All the hard work he’d had piling up bricks on top of his red, bleeding heart had seemed to be consistently excavated by the pastel wearing girl who still enjoyed the fairy lights he used to see online in those aesthetic bedroom photos. It scared him a bit at first. Even now, he was nervous about the idea of getting closer to her than they were now because her heart was a tender and precious thing and he didn’t necessarily trust himself not to hurt her- but then again, he knew he’d do miles better than anyone else could. He’d spent the time learning about her as the months went by, listening to her drawl on about the pinterest boards she made, her dream finds she always looked for at the thrift stores, her least favorite reality TV contestants, which pastries she found to be too dry at the cafe and which had the best level of moisture, what blankets she liked, every little tidbit he had stored away in his brain to use at a later date. 
No one would be as protective of her as he would be, which was why lately he’d been entertaining the thought of perhaps moving past the point of no return and trying to see if maybe, possibly, perhaps.. They could be more. 
It had come with a lot of deliberating but he’d come to understand that if he failed, Y/N wouldn’t caste him to the side. She’d never in a million years abandon him like he feared, which only gave him more motivation to go for it though… He was still biding his time. He had to let her get settled here before he shook up her life a bit more. 
They were opposites, the sweet girl and him. Harry was quite literally the bad boy cliche of everyone’s after school special’s dreams. His hair was long and curled, brushing his jaw. He went for darker clothing, usually his ripped black skinny jeans and a band tee but sometimes more eccentric with some silk and leaving his tits out when they went on a night out. His nose had a simple black hoop, his nails painted and chipped though this week they were a bubblegum pink, a la Y/N’s expertise. His body was hard from the gym he liked to frequent and inked, only getting more every month. He wore the occasional eyeliner when he felt spicy. That was only the physical things. 
Sometimes he wondered why she felt drawn to him, as she said. He was dark and moody with a darker sense of humor. Somewhat of a pessimist, he expected the worst from people and tended to stay away from them the best he could. The opposite of a social butterfly, he only usually went out in the past for a drink or to get his cock wet, never for the pleasure of interacting with people. Even then it was rare considering he did quite well in the hookup area being a bartender himself. 
Harry often wondered how and why she felt the pull to be around him and why she felt so at ease in his presence but he figured it had to be that he’d knocked the lights out of a bloke in her philosophy class who’d been riding her ass. He’d made the wrong decision of cornering Y/N at a party Harry had been dragged to, touching her a bit too much and not listening when her smile became thin and she backed away from him after giving a rejection much too polite than the man deserved. There had been no hesitation in laying him out, tugging Y/N into his side and demanding she stay with him for the rest of the party after she insisted she didn’t need to go home. 
Funnily enough she’d been a hit with his own small group of friends, everyone also feeling the same sort of kindred protection over her. Not many people were genuinely warm and fuzzy in the way she was. 
Y/N was… She was the sun, she was a cinnamon roll fresh baked on a sunday morning, she was a kitten sprawled in a sunbeam. All the good things, he could find a way to relate them to her. That probably should have been the indicator he had feelings for her far sooner than he’d ever let himself admit, but she had taken the time to crack him open. 
It was hard to stop thinking about what made her both his opposite and so special. Harry dwelled on how soft her clothing always was, both in color and texture. She liked those pastel colors and fuzzy cardigans, hair bows and those signature mary janes with the tiny heels. Lip oil as opposed to lip gloss because it was ‘too sticky’ but still dragged all his attention to her lips and made him wonder if it really tasted like tangerine like it smelled. 
Her touch was gentle and tender, cautious at first but as soon as she got the go ahead, she showered you in attention. At least, she did to him. Brushing stray hairs out of faces and wiping crumbs off cheeks, she had little sense of personal space once granted permission. She’d been mindful of his distaste for touch at the beginning but once he’d leaned into it, the girl had no qualms about straightening his shirt or leaning into his form, hell- there had been a few times she’d helped herself to his lap when there was no other seating option. Usually that was when she was tipsy considering she would most likely be a little shy sober, but that was something he enjoyed. 
The light to his dark, he doubted anyone else could make him feel the way she could. Hence why he was up after only getting 4 hours of sleep, sipping the coffee she’d gotten him. There was little he wouldn’t do for a hint of her smile. 
—--
“Babe, you’ve got t’make a decision.” Harry said gently, placing the large mirror down and leaning it against the wall. 
“I know, I know but… It’s bad luck to have your mirror facing your bed.” She wrung her fingers together. “I’m sorry, H. I know I’ve been a bit of a pain in the rear today. I promise m’not trying to, but It’s my first place and I just want it to be perfect.” Her head looked down, making his heart squeeze. 
God damn it. Leave it to her to make him feel like he’d kicked a puppy. Sighing, he tugged the bandana on his head back into place and approached her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “M’not upset with you. Promise. I just think you’re overthinking it a bit.” Her superstitions did tend to make her feel a little squirrely sometimes and he knew it.  “We’re gonna make it look perfect. Incredible, even. Reckon the magazines will be calling you up to feature you, but we can’t just have a freestanding mirror slab.” He’d picked it up for her off of craigslist just a bit ago. Even if it wasn’t a dodgy listing, he wouldn’t let her go on her own. That’s how people got kidnapped. 
“Ugh, I know.” She groaned, flopping into his chest. Never mind it being sweaty, she rubbed her nose between his tits and let out a tired groan, her hair smacking his chin. It’d been tossed up in a very messy bun that was a bit lopsided but made her look doubly as cute, though he didn’t tell her that. “Why don’t we mount it to the back of your door then? Not facing your bed, or another mirror.” 
He could almost hear her brain going as she mulled it over before he felt the nod against his chest. “That will be good, I think. I love that idea.” Y/N had been going back and forth over design choices with him all day as if he had a clue about interior decor, but he had appreciated her caring about his opinion nonetheless. “That can be the last thing we do. Niall’s fucked off somewhere futzing with the books so we can eat after that’s done.” 
The thud of his heart against her ear was steady as he gently ran a hand over her shoulderblade. “What’s on the menu?” 
“Think we’re ordering pizza because I know m’too tired to cook which means you lot have to be too.” She chuckled, finally prying herself out of his chest and blinking up at him.”Then we can go to bed.”  He was thankful her ear was away from his heart so she couldn’t hear the way it stuttered. You’d think after sleeping in her bed a multitude of times that he’d get used to the sound of that sentence but it still did him in every time. 
“Okay. I can run and pick it up after I mount this to the door if you call it in.” He knew she wouldn’t want to go. It was visible on her face how tired she was and it melted him internally. He knew that she’d be a little snuggly menace tonight and fuck if he wasn’t looking forward to it. “Gonna run into the pharmacy t’grab some body wash for here, if thats okay?”
“Course it is.” She beamed at the suggestion, making him happy that he’d even brought it up. Y/N used to suggest he sleep heer a lot before and he’d refuse, thinking she was just trying to be polite- but she really did enjoy him staying with her. “I liked the pomegranate one you used last time, just sayin’.” Patting his chest she moved from his grip, heading to grab her phone. “Normal for you?”
“Yeah, love. Same as usual.” He rubbed over the achy spot in his chest that she’d left by pulling away, looking forward to sleeping tonight so he could feel it fill back up.
—-----------
Harry had grabbed the pomegranate bath stuff. He’d grabbed the whole line, actually, the shampoo, conditioner, body wash and some sort of ‘skin buff.’ Whatever that was. 
Y/N had squeaked as he showed her, along with a pack of the makeup wipes she usually used and he’d steal. He’d figured it was about time to be the one to buy the replacements. “Ah! And you got the face mask I like.” Her eyes were wide and bright as she bounced on her toes, smacking a kiss to his stubbly cheek before looking back down at the holographic packaging. He’d hoped he had gotten the right one when he’d seen a sale on them when on his way to the check out counter. It was worth the little bit of money to feel her lips for a moment. “Thank you, H. You’re the best, as usual.” 
“The hell am I?” Niall scoffed, wiping his hands dry after washing them. 
“You’re great too, but he got me the face masks I like and they usually sell out. So he’s a bit higher up in points today.” She placated him, brushing past him to put them in the bathroom. “Harry, plate up the pizza, pretty please!”
As soon as she had disappeared, Niall shot him a look. “When are you two gonna make it official?” He whispered. “The heat eyes bouncin’ off the both of you is sickening at this point. She’s turned you soft.” 
Harry settled with a glare, placing two slices on the paper plate and sliding it over to him. “Eventually. Her whole life is shifting. Can’t do shit right now without rattling her.” It was the first time he admitted or even hinted at having feelings for her besides point blank telling anyone who came around that she wasn’t available. Y/N didn’t know he did that though. 
“Thank fuck you don’t still have your head up your arse. I was worried you’d never admit you’re gone for her.” He faked wiping sweat off his head making the other man roll his eyes. “She’ll be happy, H. You don’t have to worry about her rejecting you. Just go on and do it. She talks about you like you hang the moon every night at this point even when you aren’t around.” 
A weakness he’d spotted, Harry stood a bit straighter before leaning in. “She does? What does she say?” Oh, he hated how desperate he sounded to hear the answer but the fluttering in his stomach made him insisting on finding out. 
“Oh, how thoughtful and kind and generous you are and how you’re the best person she knows, all of that. She stares at her phone and waits for texts from you when she comes out and you’re working, gets these huge smiles or giggles when you do. or tries to get everyone to move the party to your bar.” 
That last part, he’d hoped for. He liked the idea of her wanting to be physically close to him and suggesting everyone come and see him, but knowing she did the same thing he did when waiting for messages from him soothed a piece of him. He wasn’t alone in it. It was hard sometimes for him to decipher her behavior considering she was genuinely so friendly with everyone and he didn’t want to flatter himself and think it he was special… but apparently he was. 
He didn’t have a chance to answer when Y/N glided from the bathroom, finding her spot on the kitchen barstools. “What did I miss?” 
“Nothin’, Babe. Just chatting shit.” He murmured, sliding her a plate with her pizza of choice on it. “Figured we’d go to the grocery tomorrow, yeah? It’s a bit sparse in here with the food.” He had the next day off and intended on spending it with her. They’d made lots of progress today and had 80% of the place unpacked, but he knew she liked those restocking videos online. “Think they’ve got those organizers back in stock.” 
“Oh!” She gasped.”Yes, you genius. I’ll need your help though, strong man. I like the one trip wonder.” It was a tease considering she knew Harry hated making multiple trips up with bags. 
“Lucky for you, you’ve got a lift now and I’ve got that collapsible wagon.” Reaching out he gently flicked her nose for being a brat. “So we won’t have t’worry about that.” 
—-----
Y/N was either very oblivious or a tease. Harry could never fully figure out which one. 
He sat on her bed, messing with her telly when she emerged from the shower in her little cotton shorts and one of his shirts. It was one he’d just been looking for last week, actually, an old Iron Maiden one with a few holes in the collar area. Unmistakably his. The faded gray complimented her skin, looking extra cozy on her as her powder blue plush bunny slippers flopped against the ground and she made her way to her skincare desk. 
“You little thief.” He grumbled from the bed, leaning against her headboard. “I was searching everywhere for that last week.” Though he had narrowed eyes she would know he was only teasing. 
“You left it with me, remember? I ended up packing it so I wouldn’t forget it but… It’s super comfy.” She smiled guiltily at him, spinning in her chair. “Is it okay if I wear it? It still smells like your cologne and it helps me sleep sometimes…”
Ah, a shot to the heart. 
Y/N didn’t know what it did to him to know he was an aid in good sleep. That it both made his heart stutter and his cock throb at the sight of her wrapped up in his clothing like she had all the rights to it. Like he was her boyfriend and she liked to wear it to remember him. Her scent had a similar effect on him, leaving it in his sheets when she stayed over,  “Totally okay, lovely.” He smiled gently. “M’just teasing you. Though it does wonders for my ego to know you like my cologne that much.” 
He knew he was making her a little flustered considering she didn’t look right at him, but he thrived off of that. Knowing he made an impact on her like that made him feel just a bit more confident that she felt similarly to him. There was no answer from her, but he wasn’t done with her quite yet. Standing up with a groan, he made his way over to her little makeup and skincare set up, placing his hands on the back of her chair. “What are you putting on your face?” He asked curiously, looking over her head to the products she had neatly organized.
“Well, first I wipe with one of these toning pads.” She opened the little tub, using a tiny pair of clear tongs to grab one. “You don’t want to be sticking your fingers in there and potentially making them all dirty so it came with this little thing. You give it a few passes over your t zone.” She showed him as she did it, Harry watching diligently in the mirror. 
“Mmm. Then what? You’re always doin’ all of this fancy stuff to your face. Figure that's why your skin is so pretty.” He let his fingers fiddle with a few strands of hair. 
“Thank you.” She said sheepishly, picking up a smaller tube. “Um, I use this undereye cream to help with puffiness and brightening. Its soothing. I apply it with the smallest finger though, because while I’m not afraid of wrinkles it’s the weakest fingers and the skin under your eyes is more delicate.” 
Huh. “Didn’t know what.” He was actually learning something from this. 
“Mhm. Why do you think I tell you to go gentle when you use the makeup remover?” A smile tilted up one side of her lips a bit further, eyes focused on the mirror in front of her. She pretended not to notice the slight shiver he gave her when he leaned down, letting his face get more level with hers- but he did. He noticed anything he could. “A-And then I use some vitamin C stuff for brightening, a serum and a cream. I use the little fan to make it dry faster so it isn’t sticky.” She pointed to the mini pink fan he’d always noticed. He’d just assumed it was for when she got hot. “Do you… Would you like me to use some of it on you when I’m done?” 
She sounded hesitant to ask which he understood. Not a lot of the guys in their friend circle would want that, but he wasn’t that insecure about himself that he’d say no to someone pampering him. Especially not when it meant Y/N getting close to him. “Sure, sweets. I’d love that. Reckon my skin needs it.” 
“What do you usually do with it?” She asked curiously, meeting his eye in the mirror. 
“Makeup remover, wash my face, that cream you left at my place if I remember.” 
“It’s not fair you have the skin you do.” She huffed, shaking her head. “Cruel, actually.” It kind of was. He got long lashes too, which she always complained about. “Go and wash your face first, heathen.”
Harry let out a small laugh before going off to do that. Returning with a fresh face, he stood in his prior position, watching her finish up the routine before holding the fan closer to her face to finish it off. It was an interesting process he hadn’t paid much mind to before, but then again, she didn’t bring every single thing to his place either. 
After putting her hair up in a claw clip, she stood up from the plushy chair and motioned for him to sit down. He did as asked, feeling her residual warmth as she lined up the products for them. “Okay, so we start with the toner pad.” She gently pushed him to lean back in the chair, her face coming closer to his as she delicately swiped it over his cheeks and nose. He was getting an up close look at her, noticing the scar near her eyebrow and a few spots on her face. It made him warm up a bit, being able to see her so close when she was awake. Usually this level of observation was reserved for when she was asleep. “Oi, keep your head up.” 
“Sorry.” He laughed, avoiding the impulse to move the chair back and forth. He liked to swing on it at times. 
“Wait- how about this.” Without giving it much thought, she gripped the chair and swung it over to turn his body to the side, helping herself to straddle his lap. “This seems a little easier, no?” Fingers gently tipped his chin up, eyes focused on her motions. 
Harry’s breath had disappeared. No longer available, he felt her sitting on top of his thighs, innocent as ever as she went through the motions. Tender with her movements and pressure, she was treating him like porcelain while giving him a little makeover. He should be focused on how nice the products felt on his skin, but his mind was elsewhere. 
She smelled amazing, as usual, but having it this close up was a little hard for him. Yes, she sat on his lap before- but not in his shirt, with her thighs on display and tiny little shorts. She didn’t straddle him before either, didn’t let his mind wander to places it shouldn’t. All his energy was focused on trying to ensure she didn’t feel the stiffy that was quickly growing in his pants. 
“I can’t believe how good you’re being for me, H.” She whispered. “No whining or anything.” Her smile was soft as she wiped the serum over his face. “You’re so pretty.”
Fuck. He swallowed thickly, trying desperately to not let his cock construe those words into the filthy praise kink he had, but it appeared to be a bit too late for that. She had no idea what she was doing to him and he didn’t want to be a perv, but god damn. If the girl continued, there would be no denying that he’d cream his damn pants. Being pet on, feeling her brush his hair off his forehead while she stroked his face and adjusted his position to where she wanted… He was only so strong. “Thanks.” He murmured, trying to keep his composure. 
“Of course.” She beamed, seeming pleased. “I’m surprised you’re letting me do this, but you’re full of surprises.” It seemed like she didn’t know the battle he was facing internally, which was his goal, but that was soon to be ruined. “Hold on a second.” Shifting slightly on his lap, she stood up momentarily before sliding further up. “Sorry, I was falling down a bit-” 
Harry hadn’t meant to, he really fucking didn’t. But she sat right on top of him, squirming a bit. Giving his dick a bit of friction, making his hands grip her hips and sit her down hard to stop the movement. He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t face her as he heard the hitch in her breath. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Sorry, I didn’t- I promise m’not being a creep or anything.” He winced. “Just been a while and uh-” 
“Hey, it’s okay.” Her voice rang out, fingers brushing through his hair. “H, look at me. I’m not mad.” Of course, her words were sweet and syrupy, going right to his dick yet again. Y/N had no fucking idea how much she effected him, how many times he’d thought about her in this positon and how guilty he felt that he’d turned a sweet moment into something like this. “C’mon. You don’t need to be embarrassed.” 
He took a moment before opening his eyes, looking at her face. Studying it, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. Her hand cupped the side of his face, a slight pout on her pretty lips. Y/N didn’t seem upset about it, seeing as she sat still and could most definitely feel his cock under her. He could feel her cunt over him, hot through the fabric and he was doing everything in his power to be fucking normal. 
“There you are.” The tables had finally turned. Harry was the shy one in this moment and Y/N was the one seemingly not freaked out. “It’s a natural body function, H. I know you’re not some kind of perv. I sat on your lap, remember?” She soothed his nerves. “Besides, I’m flattered. Was beginning to think you thought I was some kind of troll or something.” The smile kicked up on her face, but his frown deepened.
“The fuck? Why would you think that?” Brows furrowed, he didn’t like that she thought he didn’t find her attractive. He called her pretty quite a bit. 
“Well, I’m not your type. You go for all those tattooed girls with the bad ass attitudes, which is cool cause I think they’re hot too but… I’m all soft and squishy, y’know? I like the soft things, kinda the opposite of you so I just thought I wasn’t someone you’d be attracted to. M’nothing like what you go for.” She didn’t seem offended by this, rather stating it matter of fact- but Harry couldn’t believe how wrong she was. He had to wonder how long she thought this. 
While he was secretly pining after her, she was thinking he was going off to get blowies by the girls that flirted with him which, sometimes he did. At the beginning of their friendship, he tried to stave off those feelings for her by getting someone else underneath him, fucking away the frustration but he learned fairly quickly that none of it did much when his mind was on someone else. It’d been months at this point. Sure, he liked a bit of flirting to boost his ego, but that was only when Y/N was preoccupied. 
“Well, you’re wrong.” He said sternly. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Dunno where the troll idea came in when m’always staring at you.” He scoffed. “No more of that bullshit. Wouldn’t be hard if I didn’t think you were stunning. Trust me.” In fact, she was the only thing that got him hard these days. Thinking of her mouth, her thighs, her tits, her ass, anything. Even her hands, for fucks sake. “Don’t ever doubt how beautiful you are t’me. Pisses me off.”
“Sorry.” She bleated, pouting back at him. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just.. You call me pretty but I never would have thought you meant it like that. I like that you let me cuddle you and stuff so obviously I know you aren’t repulsed by me but, I dunno.” She swallowed, looking down at his bare chest. “I’m sorry for getting you… if you’re uncomfortable.” 
God, he was mucking this up wasn’t he? He shook his head, letting his thumbs rub over her hips as he softened his face. “No, sweets. Don’t apologize. S’not a big deal, I’m not mad at you. Just don’t like the idea of you thinking poorly of yourself. You’re fucking stunning.” So stunning that his cock was still hard under her. “I’ll go take care of it when we’re done, but no more squirming. Okay?” Squeezing her, he tried to rectify the situation. “No more fussing.” 
“But…” Y/N’s lips twisted slightly, sliding her hands down to his shoulders. “That’s not fair.” 
Harry blinked a few times, looking her over hesitantly. “What d’you mean? I’m okay, pet.” 
“Well, It’s my fault that you’re like this.” She protested. “I can fix it, if you want. Haven’t given too many blowies before, but I can take instruction pretty well.”
Harry truly thought he was dreaming for a moment, his face hot as she gave him an innocent look. Like she meant it, though it slightly embarrassed her for not having a lot of experience. But feeling her shift on him clued him back into reality. This was real. “You- You don’t have to do anything for me, Y/N.” He was holding on by a string. “You didn’t mean to do it. It’s not your responsibility to get me off just because my cock’s got a mind of his own.”
Y/N huffed again, shaking her head. “I want to. Can I?” Her face shifted slightly. “You’re not making me do anything. It would make me feel better If i could take care of you.” Her eyes met his. “I mean it. Promise.” 
And god, if Harry was a stronger man he’d lift her off his lap and insist on taking care of it himself. He’d explain that it could make lines blurry and he liked her a bit more than a friend and they’d have that talk. But he wasn’t a stronger man, and she rolled her hips on him again with a hum, making his head fall back when she repeated the action. “Fuck.” He whispered under his breath. “As long as.. As long you’re sure. I don’t want you to regret it or anything.” 
“I won’t.” She peeped. “I like making you feel good, Harry.” Her face seemed brighter as she watched him nod.
“Go on then, sweetheart.” He sighed. “I’ll show you what I like.” 
Never in a million years had he expected her to be visibly excited, slipping off his lap and on to her knees in front of him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Eyes looked up at him with curiosity, hands running over his thighs as she waited for direction. He’d dreamt of this so many times, stroked off in the bathroom to this very mental image to get his load out quicker. His cock pulsed inside his sweats. This was really happening. “M’not wearing briefs under these.” He warned, pushing the waistband down as he slowly tugged himself out of the pants. His hand was slightly shaky ass he gave himself a squeeze at the base, a soft hiss leaving his teeth when her hand covered his own. 
“I’ve only done it a few times but…” Her eyes widened. “Yours is the prettiest I’ve seen.”
And fuck if that didn’t get him going. Harry took pride in his dick, as a lot of men did, but to get that compliment was better than anything else. His hair was normally trimmed shorter, but it had been a while. It was groomed a bit at the base, his happy trail leading up his stomach. “Thank you.” He mumbled, removing his hand and letting hers take over. Y/N was eager and that much was obvious, feeling her give him a few strokes as she shuffled closer in between his spread thighs. “I- I probably won’t last long. I wasn’t lying, it’s been a while.” And he’d imagined her in this position so many times that he was programmed to get off to it quickly. 
“That’s okay. You’re quite big so it’ll be better for my jaw.” She giggled. Fucking giggled while her thumb rubbed over the slit, making him shudder. He’d always imagined she’d be much more shy in this situation, but again he was proven wrong. “What do you like?” 
Honestly? He could cum just like this. Her stroking him slow, looking up at him with that pretty little face. Splatter her pretty face with pearly strings leaking from the slit of his cock, let it drip down her cheeks and chin. But she wouldn’t like that answer. “I’m okay with anything you give me, but I… I like to hear you.” He swallowed, a shaky exhale leaving his nose. “And uh, a bit wet. If that’s something you’d like.” 
Y/N looked like she was taking note, nodding at his words. “I want to know what you like, m’okay with anything.” She smiled. “I knew you had to be big cause.. Y’know you’ve got the energy. And I’ve felt it a few times when we cuddle, before you wake up. It’s just different to see it.” Y/N leaned her head on his thigh, continuing to jerk him off. “I’ll probably choke a little bit, cause you’re the biggest I’ve taken. It’s okay though, I’ll be fine. I’ll pinch your tummy or somthin’ if I need a second to breathe.” 
Who the fuck was she? Y/N had never, ever shown or hinted at being filthy in her life, but here she was. Talking about choking on his cock. He throbbed in her hand, making her eyebrows raise. “You liked that. Noted.” Leaning forward, she kept eye contact with him as she dragged her pink tongue from the base up to the tip, letting it sit there for a moment before she pulled away, giving him a few more strokes. “You can show me what you like too. Don’t be shy about it, H. I want you to feel good.” 
Harry nearly lost it as he watched those gorgeous lips purse, spitting right over the tip. It slipped down his length before her hand caught it, stroking and spreading it over his cock. Filthy, filthy things filled his tongue immediately, but he tried to pace himself. “Fuck me…” He whispered, gently gathering her hair in his hand. “I didn’t know you had this in you, gorgeous.” It nearly bowled him over. “Can you.. Take it in your mouth. Suck the tip for me. I want to see that.” 
Normally, he had no problem being a cocky, arrogant man. He was dominant most of the time with his hook ups- but Y/N wasn’t just a hook up to him. She was special. He didn’t want to do a single thing to potentially fuck this up. He wanted her to like this, to see how much he liked it too. She had no problems following instructions, the man watching as her lips stretched around the tip and dipped down a bit as she suckled on it. A soft hum left her mouth and vibrated over him as he curled the hair around his fist, making him groan. “Yeah, jus’ like that, angel. Fuck.” He kept his eyes on her as she bobbed shallowly, taking moments to rub her tongue over his leaking slit. “You’re so good, so sweet t’me. Can’t believe you’re doin’ this.” 
Y/N pulled off the tip, lips wet as she peered up at him. “I’ve thought about it before.” She whispered, lapping over the side of his length. “Wanted to see your cock. I knew it’d be pretty.” 
What the fuck? Harry’s brian felt fried, completely caught off guard by this information. Sure, he had thought maybe once or twice she was teasing him but it wasn’t often. Y/N was just so sugary sweet and kind, a slight air of innocence, and… Now she was telling him she’d thought about sucking him off before. “You have?” 
“Mhm.” She stroked him a bit firmer, the slick sound of her hand around his wet cock getting louder. “I heard.. Heard rumors and felt left out. You like me the best but you never asked me to do anything.” Rubbing the tip over her pouted lips, Harry was shocked yet again. 
“Cause y’mean more to me than any of the other people.” He swallowed. “Too fuckin’ sweet. I like you the best, you’re right but.. You’re my sweet girl. Didn’t want t’use you for anything like that. Would break my heart if I hurt you and you’d not want to see me again.” 
“What if I wanted you to use me?” She asked, peering up at him with those eyes. They drove him absolutely mad. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me unless I asked, H. You’re so good to me… I just want to be good for you too.” Taking the tip back into her mouth, she pushed herself down further and he felt his stomach clench. It took him off guard, feeling the hot mouth take him down and bob herself against him, a soft hum vibrating over him. 
“Oh- Fuck.” He let out a broken groan, leaning further back into the chair. “You are, baby, you fucking are. Hot little mouth… shit.” She whimpered around his cock at his words, sucking a little harder as her hand stroked the rest of him. She liked that. “What is it, hm? Like when I call you baby? When I tell you how perfect you are?” His words got a bit darker. He was slipping into another headspace and Y/N seemed to be coaxing it on. 
She did a half ass nod, not pulling off his length as she continued. Harry wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that she’d be a greedy girl like this, but he was incredibly thankful that she was. “You are. Such a good girl, so gorgeous with your mouth stretched around my cock. Didn’t know you were gagging for it, baby. Should’ve told me.” He chuckled darkly. “Wouldn’t have wasted my loads in the shower before comin’ t’bed with you. Could’ve pushed into your needy mouth and let you swallow it down.” 
Y/N moaned around his prick, eyes watering slightly as she looked at him. He’d never seen a better sight. “You’re so beautiful, angel. So pretty. Didn’t know such a filthy thing could have you lookin’ even more beautiful.” His throat felt thick as his cock throbbed in her mouth. “Fuck, you don’t even know how many times I’ve thought about it.”
Y/N pulled off, panting slightly as webs of saliva connected her mouth to his cock. “How much?” Her voice was a little hoarse, but he could hear that she was desperate to know. “You- You could have. I don’t want you to waste it anymore.” There was the tiny bit of shyness coming back in. “If umm, if you think  I’m good enough at this. I’ll do it.” 
“Fuck me, baby.” His thumb wiped over her spit soaked lips, breaking the threads of spit as he caressed her cheek. “All the fucking time. S’the only thing that gets me off.” Confessions he hadn’t thought he’d be saying so soon, let alone before he’d ever kissed her, spilled from him. “You’re doing amazing. More than good enough, too fucking good for me.” He couldn’t believe she was offering. “You sure you want t’be the one to take care of it?”
“Yes, I want it. I don’t want anyone else to do it.” She pleaded. “I’ll be the best for you. Just- you can tell me and I’ll suck you or, or anything you want.” Harry tested it, gently pushing her head back towards his prick- which she immediately took back in her mouth. The perfect, wet heat bringing him back to that filthy place in his head. 
How could she think he could ever say no? She’d been his weakness since she brought him over that damn cupcake. 
“Oh, sweet girl. Anything?” He cooed. “Dangerous thing to promise me. Don’t want anyone else to do it either.” His breathing was getting harder, trying not to thrust his hips up into her mouth and make her take it all. Sure, she’d probably do it, but he still felt the need to be delicate with her. “Take a little more for me, baby. Just like- there, there you go.” He praised, mouth falling open as she did exactly what he wanted. “Gonna make me cum.” 
This felt a million times better than rubbing one out in her bathroom. His legs were near vibrating, the wet sound of her mouth taking him down and the clicks of her hand stroking his spit soaked cock filling her bedroom. This was the last thing he’d expected was her on her knees for him tonight and part of him wasn’t convinced it wasn’t a wet dream, but he was thanking whatever higher power that was up there that his sweet girl had a dirty side to her. One he wanted to be the only one privileged enough to see. 
“In my mouth.” She gasped, pulling up for a moment. “Want to taste you. Please?” 
How could he ever tell her no? 
Pushing her back down on his cock, he let his hips rise up and shallowly thrust into her mouth as she moaned around him, drooling down her chin and letting him use her the way he needed to get off. The best part was knowing she was enjoying it so much. It was a miracle he’d lasted this long already, but he attributed that to shock. She was dirty, his sweet girl, choking slightly on his cock as the tip hit her throat, but she made no move to want to stop. 
His last straw, though, was feeling her hand over his balls, whining around him as he let out his deepest groan yet. It was sloppy and messy and so fucking good that he felt lightheaded, tummy hot and legs weak as he felt himself approach his end. “Fuck, jus’ like that, your fucking mouth is perfect… fuck, fuck, fuck, baby- M’gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna-” His voice failed as his head fell back, lifting his hips as his cum began to pour into her mouth. Ribbon after ribbon coating her throat, pulling back a bit to get it on her tongue while she worked him through it. 
He didn’t realize he had so much in him, but perhaps it was just Y/N that made him cum this much. This hard. His ears rung a bit, curses leaving his mouth as he watched her mouth open and hand stroke him to see the pearly mess on her tongue. At the last little bit,he used his grip on her hair to tug her up to his face. 
“C’mere, sweet girl. Share with me, don’t be greedy.” holding her face while the other had her hair, he pulled back into his lap and her mouth to his and groaned as she licked over his tongue, sharing the remnants of his load with him. It was something a bit nasty and deprived, he knew, but Y/N merely moaned back, her clean hand curling around the back of his neck. 
The kisses slowed from frantic and hot, to softer, slow and sweet. Pecking her lips over and over again, her whimpers melted into giggled as he untangled from her hair, sliding his hand under the shirt she had on to get some bare skin on his fingertips. “Sweetest thing, most beautiful girl.” He murmured between kisses. “Thank you. Best I’ve ever had.” 
“You’re jus’ saying that.” She whispered, though the smile was difficult to wipe off her face. Obviously she liked praise just as much as him. 
“Nope. Mean every word.” He confirmed, rubbing his nose over her cheek. “Thank you, baby. Felt so damn good, can’t feel my legs now.” Harry’d never felt like this after a blowie, both in his legs and the fondness he felt for the girl. If there had been any doubts about his feelings for her whatsoever, they were shattered. He was so far gone for her, it was pathetic. 
“Good.” She smiled, feeling the kiss to his cheek. “I need to finish your skincare, though. So tuck yourself back in, cause m’gonna do that and then brush my teeth again. Though.. I can tell you’ve got a good diet. Tasted nice.” 
Though Harry knew cum never really tasted good, he was chuffed that she hadn’t minded. Even more, that she hadn’t minded indulging in sharing with him. “M’not selfish, I need to help you too.” He reminded, though she merely shook her head. 
“I’ll take a raincheck. M’so tired now, and I want to enjoy it fully.” Pecking his cheek in return, she picked up the moisturizer. “Think you need a lip mask too. Thankfully, you’re in the right hands.” 
Harry was sometimes a selfish lover with hookups and he could admit that, but with Y/N he never wanted to be that way. He wanted to make her feel good, but he could wait. It only made him anticipate it more- there would be a next time. 
“Okay, sweets.” He chuckled. “Do whatever you’d like.”
691 notes · View notes
ifimdreaming · 4 months
Text
can i take you home?
luke hughes x reader || angst, fluff
request: “i like the idea of her best friend going to michigan/dating a former teammate of lukes so thats how luke and reader meet! i love angst and given that its lukes rookie year/she goes to college in another state, maybe they could be friends w benefits but both have strong feelings.”
author's note: i thought this request was so so cute so i kind of took it and ran. also kinda influenced by i miss you, im sorry by gracie abrams. this is also super long but i hope the ending is worth it. let me know if i should do more parts of this!
word count: 5.0k
-
Waking up to the sound of your best friend pounding on the guest bedroom door at 7am was not exactly the best way to start your day. But since you are staying the weekend in her student house that she shares with 5 other people, there are definitely unluckier ways you could have been awoken. 
“Morning sleepy head!!! I'm so happy you're up!” your best friend Emma almost shouts as she barges in the room, after you very reluctantly told her she could come in. She immediately begins opening the curtains, and rummaging through her closet to find her outfit for the day.
In her haste she almost spills the two cups of coffee she had brought up from the kitchen as she sets them on the dresser beside the bed, her mug being almost completely empty anyway. You can tell by her enthusiasm and caffeine intake that she has been up for quite a long time before deciding to wake you up. 
You groggily roll over and face away from the wide open curtains, not ready to face the day yet and really disappointed in yourself for choosing to drive up so late last night in the first place.
Of course you were happy to be able to visit your best friend, the two of you going to different schools making it incredibly hard to spend much time together anymore. But being back here brought back so many memories of the last time you visited. Both good and bad. And to be honest, all you could think about was him. From the very moment Emma invited you, he has been on your mind nonstop. 
The way he made you feel so utterly adored when he brought you back to his room, how he spoke to you so gently and quietly the one morning when you were hungover, the time he spilled and called you ‘his’ while you were in bed together, and how much it seemed like it would last forever. It was all coming back so strongly.
“So, what are the plans for the day Little Miss Sunshine?” you sit up, reluctantly speaking your first words of the day after clearing your throat. 
“Well! First I thought we'd go get bagels for breakfast from down the street, and then I think one of us may need a quick shower before we officially start our day…” Emma says with a hand on the side of her mouth, pretending to be saying a secret as she is side-eyeing you, and you just stare at her offendedly, “Aaand we are doing something tonight so maybe we should go shopping..” she says quickly and excitedly, clearly brushing past what exactly it is that we are doing tonight.
“Alright then.” you say as you check your phone for probably the 20th time in the 10 minutes you've been awake. And you can see Emma staring at you from the corner of your eye so you decide to throw your phone to the other side of the bed, getting up and ready to go. You knew she wasn't oblivious, but you did not want to acknowledge the look she was giving you right now, and honestly it did not seem necessary to bring anything up.
Besides, this weekend isn't even about him. Dylan's surprise birthday party is tomorrow and your best friend was so excited to be planning it with your help. She hadn't done anything this extravagant for her boyfriend before and she wanted everything to be absolutely perfect.
Obviously the last thing you would want to do is ruin this weekend for her, and your stupid feelings and non-relationship are included in that.
-
The walk to the bagel shop seemed awkwardly long as you were both not acknowledging the fact that your mind is very very distracted. It wasn't intentional. But feelings and places have such strong connections and the fact that things felt so unresolved was not helping. Everywhere you are here reminds you of him.
“How's your bagel?” Emma speaks up, finally breaking the silence on your walk home, thankfully giving you an opportunity to get out of your thoughts.
“Oh it's good! Thanks! I was super hungry…” you say, trying to muster up a believable enough reason for why you've been so off today. 
You continue walking and shuffling your feet in silence and are about to return back to the house before Emma looks at you and sighs loudly.
So. Close. You are literally about to step onto the driveway of the house when she stops you. 
“Ok can we just talk about it please? Because there is no way we are going to get through this entire weekend just ignoring it.” she says, stepping in front of you and blocking any sort of way for you to get out of this conversation. 
“What are you talking about?” you say with a grumble and a sigh. Knowing she is going to get it out of you. Obviously she would.
“Luke.” Emma says deadpan, waiting for your response.
For some reason at this moment you wanted to cry just hearing his name. But you also wanted to yell. Your feelings were confusing and annoying and it upset you to even have to talk about it with someone, even though you knew you should.
“I don't know. I DON'T KNOW. I can't stop thinking about him, and everything is so confusing.” you whisper-yell at her in frustration. 
It pained you to admit that you couldn't get him off your mind. You didn't realise how much you even liked him until having to admit that.
“He visited me during christmas… I mean, he did in the fall, but this time felt different.” You continue,  “We slept together again. Everything felt like it was going so well…And now nothing.” you admit to her and wipe your face with your sleeves, angry at the tears that have fallen from your eyes. 
“Has he called?” She asks warily.
“Once? Last week. It was short… but he sounded sad. He said he misses me. And he told me he really wanted to visit me. And I've texted him since then and no response.” you look down at your feet as you speak. It really shouldn't be this embarrassing to admit. It's not like you were in a relationship with him anyway.
“He's going to be here...tomorrow? I didn't know if you knew..” Emma says as she grabs your arm and slowly brings you close to her as you begin walking inside together and you nod your head in her direction.
You knew he would be here. Dylan is one of his best friends, obviously he isnt going to miss his 21st birthday. But with how things were currently going, it honestly made you wonder if Luke would even want you here. And what do his friends even know about you two? Has Luke said anything? So many questions are going through your head that it is almost making you dizzy.
-
The rest of the day is so much lighter after your earlier conversation. Emma is exponentially good at cheering people up, and maybe even to a fault, will always be on your side no matter what. But you appreciated it regardless.
You are currently finishing up putting on your makeup and getting ready to go out tonight, still very unaware of what the plan even is. But you didn't have much of a choice in the matter as Emma has picked out every aspect of your outfit tonight - down to the shoes, makeup, and jewellery.
Suddenly Emma gets a call from Dylan and runs into her bathroom to answer the phone, the music cutting out that was playing from her phone as she heads off, and silence filling the room.
You weren't intending to be eavesdropping, but you are able to hear muffled voices from the other side of the door and very hushed arguing that you couldn't quite make out. Making you curious as to what could possibly be going on tonight.
Emma saunters back into the room with hesitancy, her expression is scared and concerned at the same time as she is approaching you almost in slow-motion, saying nothing.
“What is it? Just spit it out.” you say, already knowing you are either about to hear the worst news of all time or the worst news of all time.
“Ok surprise! We're going out for sushi! Yay!” Emma says, obviously starting with the good news and you stay silent.
“And…Luke is coming out with us.” she continues, flinching at her own words as she plops herself on the bed across from you. You sit at her desk, makeup in hand, and cannot help but have an absolutely astonished look on your face. 
Nothing is able to even leave your mouth as her words run through your mind again and again.
“I am so SO sorry.” She starts. “One of the guys accidentally told Dylan that Luke is in town and I didn’t want to ruin the surprise for tomorrow, so I told Dylan that Luke and I were trying to surprise him tonight for dinner. I didn't know what else to say. It was literally the first thing that came to my mind. I'm so sorry.” she continues, worried she has done irreparable damage on your friendship.
“You can kill me now.” Emma blurts out defeatedly, wanting to keep the surprise for tomorrow and not wanting all her efforts to be ruined the day before the party.
Obviously you love that girl, but very much did want to kill her in this moment.
“Does Luke know I'm going to be there?” you ask, brushing past everything else she has said.
“Dylan said he would tell him, yeah, but if you don't want to come please don't feel like you have to.” she says with a small smile, hoping you have some-what forgiven her.
“No, I'll still come.” you say quietly but matter-of-factly.
If Luke knew you were coming, it would be weird if you decided to stay home now because of it, and besides, what would you do here alone? Thinking of what he would be doing and wishing you could read his mind is all you can think of.
“OH? This is good! Ok! Dylan said he is picking us up in 20 minutes!” Emma states, suddenly very excitedly, hoping it will cheer you up to see that she is excited. And as you continue getting ready, nervous energy and anticipation fill your body.
Dylan shows up right on time, unfortunately for you, not giving you any extra time to sit and wallow in your feelings.
It was inevitable that you would be seeing Luke this weekend, but this quickly and under these conditions was not exactly ideal. You were hoping to at least be able to have a one-on-one conversation with him before being thrown into random get togethers where things have no chance but to be awkward.
The drive to dinner is surprisingly happy. Dylan seems so excited to be seeing his best friend again. He can't stop talking about the last time they saw each other and how long it has been. And Emma's laughter and giddy energy is helping you calm down and distract you just a little bit.
“The reservation is for 7pm so we might have to wait in the car for a few minutes.” Emma says, checking her phone as Dylan pulls up to the restaurant a bit early. 
The dim lighting and intimate booths look extremely inviting as you peer inside the windows of the restaurant from the parking lot. You can't help but get distracted by watching people inside as Emma and Dylan talk from the front seats of the car and are cutely chatting to each other quietly.
“There's my boy!” Dylan yells out as he jumps out of the driver's seat, running up to give Luke a hug across the parking lot.
“Ready?” Emma looks back and asks you, reassuringly placing her hand on your knee and rubbing her thumb up and down a few times.
“Guess so…” you say with a fake smile as you grab your purse from beside you, and as you are about to leave the car, you see a tall figure standing right outside your door.
Only a little bit startled, you look up to see Luke as he opens your door for you and greets you with a tired smile. He is dressed nicely in black pants and a cream cable knit sweater, his hair curly and tousled up like always. 
As you step out of the car he brings you into a tight hug, like he just couldn't wait to hold you again.
“I missed you…” Luke whispers so quietly into your ear that you almost couldn't hear him. He swiftly leaves a gentle kiss to the side of your head as he brings his hands just a bit lower down your back, “I’m sorry” he says quietly as he releases you.
As much as you want to reciprocate, you are so caught off guard by his words that you just stare up at him without a word.
“Alright let's go! I'm so hungry!” Dylan says, unaware of the tension, as he pats Luke's back and wraps an arm around him, walking in front of you and Emma and into the restaurant. 
Emma is glancing at you as you walk together, waiting to hear from you what Luke said, but you decide to ignore it with a shrug and she looks away. 
-
Dinner is filled with laughter and catching up with one another. Surprisingly it wasn't even half as awkward as you built it up to be. Dylan chatting away with Luke as you and Emma giggle across from each other about all the drama at your respective schools. 
Having a couple of drinks throughout the night was definitely helping, but regardless of that, you felt good. Really good.
“Luke, how's the love life going for you? You got a girl in Jersey?” Dylan asks with a laugh as Emma had just bragged about her and Dylan going on 2 years of being together.
She shoots you a regretful look as she hits Dylan's side with her elbow, not as discreetly as she probably wanted to, and your face turns bright red.
Luke looks down at his lap and shakes his head with a chuckle, seemingly avoiding eye contact with you at all costs.
“No man, no girl in jersey.” Luke says lightly as he takes a drink of his beer before the two of you make eye contact and he glances down to your fidgety hands that are in your lap. 
“My bad, my bad…” Dylan says with a laugh as he clears his throat and starts back to finishing the food on his plate, Emma quietly shushing her clueless boyfriend beside her.
Your nervous hands continue to pick at your cuticles and you look over to see Luke inching his hand closer beside yours on the booth bench. Looking up from your lap, you see him glancing back at you as he waits for your reaction before discreetly taking your hand in his under the table.
The feeling of his hand in yours is so comforting and familiar and immediately eases your anxiousness. But you still feel so conflicted.
Luke always knew how to comfort you and distract you from your thoughts when they were out of control. Especially during busy school semesters and many nights spent together with him keeping you company while you anxiously wrote papers and prepped for exams. 
He seemed to be there for you when it felt like you had no one else. At least that's how it used to feel. Now things feel so complicated. Not knowing the status of your relationship surprisingly taking a much larger toll on your ability to act like friends than you would have ever thought.
“So! I've got the bill tonight guys. Happy birthday Dyl!” Emma blurts out as the waiter approaches the table, she leans over to give her boyfriend a loving kiss, comfortably filling the awkward silence that had just taken over the table not long before.
“Thank you baby! And hey! thanks guys for coming out tonight too.” Dylan smiles at the both of you as he lifts up his glass for a toast. You all clink your glasses, wishing him happy birthdays that follow big swigs of your almost empty alcoholic beverages.
Walking out of the restaurant, your mind fills with running thoughts. You wish you had spoken to Luke more tonight but it was hard to not make anything obvious. He seemed good, but still weirdly sad and you wanted to talk to him about it so badly. You wanted to talk to him about everything.
As you near Dylan's car you feel Luke's hand brush against yours and lightly hold your wrist, turning you around to face him.
“Can I take you home?” Luke shyly asks you as you all stand in the parking lot together. You mutter a “sure” under your breath with a nod, and he looks to Dylan and Emma for confirmation, both of them nodding in agreement before bringing you into tight hugs and saying goodbyes.
“Tell me everything that happens girly.” Emma runs back over to you and whispers into your ear as she hugs you goodbye once more, and all you can do is let out a small laugh in response to her teenage-esque behaviour.
-
After Dylan and Emma drive away, the short walk over to Luke’s car suddenly seems agonisingly long and your heart is racing in anticipation. Over anything else that happens tonight, you really wanted clarity. But of course, thoughts of the worst possible outcome ever sneak their way into your mind.
Luke opens the passenger side door for you and you climb into his car before he gently closes the door and walks to the other side. As he gets in, he begins to start the car before he looks over to you and pauses, the quiet becoming almost painful. 
You didn't know what to say, and you didn't want to say the wrong thing. So, waiting for him to break the silence seemed to be your best bet.
“I know I should have thought of something to say…” He starts, and shuffles in his seat, slightly bending his right leg so he is facing you a little more.
“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have stopped responding to you.” Luke continues, and you almost want to roll your eyes at his apology. It was so hard to be understanding when this felt like such a preventable situation on his part.
But you knew Luke. You knew when he was scared he got distant. You knew he was pulling back from you. You just didnt know why.
“Things have been so…weird…lately, and I just…I know I fucked up.” He confesses.
You didn't want to be reading between the lines anymore. You just wanted him to be honest with you about what he wants, and it frustrated you that he was being so vague.
“Luke, what do you want? Like, from me?” you ask innocently, but squint your eyes closed tightly as the words coming out of your mouth sound completely different from what you intended.
“Like, you told me we were friends. And obviously I was ok with that. But when you would visit me, we’d sleep together. And when you left it was like. I don't know…” you look down and pick at your fingers as you speak, looking up at him feeling like an almost impossible task.
“You told me you wanted to be friends.” Luke states, and gently grabs your hand. He holds it in his to stop you from destroying your fingers as you speak, which causes you to look up at him, thanking him silently, as he waits on your response.
“I said that because I knew how hard it would be for us to be so far away from each other.” you say strongly, feeling the sudden need to defend yourself.
“You know how important school is to me, and I know how important your career is to you. I don't want to distract you from what's important to you. I don't want to be the one that gets in the way of things, or be the reason why you're not as focused as you could be…as much as I want to be-” you begin to confess, but are quickly cut off.
“It's kinda too late for that…” Luke says with a chuckle as he tilts his head back against the headrest of his seat and looks out the front window, frustration still evidently seen on his face.
“What do you mean??” you ask, hoping he will elaborate a little more than he has been so far.
“You already distract me. I can't stop thinking about you. And it's obvious. In my game and everything too. Even Jack has noticed and he keeps asking me about you and I don't even know what to say. I can't shut him up. Cuz how am I supposed to tell him how I feel when I can't even tell you? Its actually really fuckin annoying.” he laughs as he explains, still looking ahead out the window instead of at you. 
Luke has always sought to use humour and jokes in difficult situations, especially when it comes to his own feelings. He's clearly frustrated at himself and it hurts you to see him having such a hard time expressing himself.
“So why have you been so distant lately?! I’ve been really worried about you.” you say, suddenly feeling more confident in confronting him as he opens up to you.
“Cuz im scared im gonna fuck things up even more than I already have…” he says honestly as he turns his head to look at you again.
“I knew I should've said something from the moment we slept together the first time. I feel like I fucked up by keeping my mouth shut. It's been ruining my life to not just be honest with you.” he adds with a growl deep in his voice, anger at himself seeping through his words.
As he continues, you can't help but feel entranced by him in his current state, and suddenly you are very aware of how late at night it is becoming. 
“It's my fault...” Luke says, and you desperately try to focus on his words and not his body. 
But you can't help but think about how good his hands would feel on your body and how badly you want him to kiss you right here and now. You didn't care that you were still in the parking lot of a sushi restaurant. You didn't care that things were still so confusing and that this probably wasn't exactly the most ideal time to be feeling this way. You just felt like you needed him so badly.
“I've been treating you like shit lately. Regardless of us sleeping together, that should not change how I treat you. I've been a shitty friend to you, and I'm really really sorry.” he continues, and you are brought out of your trance. 
His words hit you so hard. You both unknowingly made this relationship so complicated and weren't even aware of it. You knew Luke was not perfect, but for some reason you expected him to be able to read your mind, and vice versa. Even after being the one to say you should stay friends, you were silently upset that nothing was happening in the way you wanted.
“Luke, it's ok. Both of us have not been entirely honest with each other lately and it's made everything so… fucked up. We’re just… in a weird spot.” you say, hoping your words make any sense considering you zoned out for half of his apology.
“Can I just say that I want to be able to fix this?” Luke says as he places his hand on your thigh, his fingers mindlessly getting higher and higher as he rubs slowly back and forth. Trying his best to soothe you and unknowingly turning you on even more.
“It isn't just on you to fix.” you say as you place your hand softly over his, stopping his movement on your leg as to not let it overly distract you.
“Yes it is. I let you down. I fucked up by being so fucking…distant. I should've been more clear about what I want…that I want you..” Luke admits, giving into what he has wanted to say from the moment you got into the car together.
His eyes are fixed on yours and it makes your heart flutter in your chest. Hearing him so confidently confess how he is feeling after so long is such a relief. It makes you want to just tell him you love him right here and now.
“I know things are complicated…but, I really don't want to not have you in my life…” Luke adds as tears begin to well in his eyes, catching you both off guard.
“Oh Lukey.” you whisper as you hold his face in your hands, your heart melting at the sight of him. 
Luke places his hands on your wrists, pulling them away from his face as he finally leans into you. 
His lips hit yours with an intensity that you have never felt before from him. His hands move away from yours, and to the base of your neck, gently pulling you closer into him as he deepens the kiss. 
Your eyes are glued shut as you are entranced by his lips finally being connected with yours as his tongue dances around in your mouth. 
Needing to have your hands on him, you reach up to brush his face with your thumbs and then begin gently tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck, causing him to lustfully groan deep into your mouth. Your mind is filled with excitement and intensity as the moment grows in mutual desire.
“I needed you baby.” You say rushedly, disconnecting with him for only a moment.
Luke smiles against your lips as you connect again, and he places his left hand on your hip, massaging his fingers into your side. You lift yourself lightly onto the centre-console, desperate to be as close to him as you can get, and he lowers his hand just below your ass to help support you.
Although being in the close quarters of Luke's car while having such a monumental conversation about your relationship was not quite ideal, you were so thankful for it at this moment.
“I needed you too.” Luke says after coming up for air, and you just stare at him with a dizzy smile, your head reeling with arousal.
He pecks your lips a few times before lowering his head to your collarbone, gently kissing your neck and leaving red marks where he most definitely has before.
Your giggles fill the car as he continues expeditiously exploring your body, wanting to savour every moment of your presence and relishing in the way he is pleasing you.
Luke looks up at you with a smile before his eyebrows furrow and he is distracted by something behind you, causing you to whip your head around to look out your window, immensely alarmed at his expression. 
Luke lightly lets go of you, allowing you to sit properly in your seat and as your eyes focus on the window, the sight of a kind-looking restaurant hostess tapping on the glass outside of your door almost sends you reeling into a panic. 
Luke quickly reassures you with a laugh, placing his hand on your arm and starting the car before beginning to roll your window down for them to speak.
“I am so sorry if I startled you, but our restaurant has closed, which means we can no longer allow you to park here, as free parking ends at midnight.” the hostess explains politely while pointing to the sign posted on the brick wall just in front of Luke's car. 
“Thanks Ma’am. We’re so s-sorry.” Luke pauses to hide his face, clearly hiding that he is about to break into laughter.
“We’ll leave right aw-” Luke laughs out, hardly able to finish his sentence before being sent into a fit of silent laughter.
“We’re so sorry. Have a good night!” you say more seriously, trying to make up for the completely unserious boy beside you.
“Goodnight guys!” the hostess says as she walks away, leaving you completely embarrassed and also scared half to death.
Luke continues dying of laughter and is hunched over the steering wheel as you punch his arm repeatedly to get his attention.
“That was awful! Why are you laughing so hard!” you say unimpressed, but still unable to hold back laughter of your own after seeing him look up at you with tears in his eyes.
“Fuck. I can't get over your face.” Luke says as he begins to come down a little, wiping the tears from his eyes. You just shake your head and begin to buckle your seatbelt, not taking any chances of having to be asked to leave once more.
“Fuck.” he says once more with a sigh, relaxing in his seat and looking over to you with a genuine smile before patting your thigh reassuringly.
You look to Luke expectantly and he stares back at you with a smirk before kissing your lips passionately, catching you off guard. 
Your hands are drawn to his face as he nudges your chin with his, causing you to lean into him even further before he pulls away from you abruptly.
“Can I take you home?” Luke asks with lust in eyes as he brushes his thumb across your cheek, admiring every single feature on your face. His words having a different meaning to both of you than they have previously tonight.
“For real this time?? Because you know we cant sit in this parking lot any longer…” you say jokingly as Luke rolls his eyes at you and begins to put his seatbelt on.
“Yes, for real this time.” He retorts. His right hand eagerly finding yours as he interlocks your fingers with his, bringing your hand up to his lips to place a tender kiss before finally driving off.
-
-
685 notes · View notes
cupid-styles · 1 month
Text
golf (sugar daddy h)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
word count: 1.3k
content warnings: spicy but no smut, dirty talk, degradation, exhibitionism if you squint
sugar daddy h masterlist | main masterlist
talk to me
. . .
Mia doesn't care about golf. 
Not once in her life has she ever thought it was a fascinating sport. There are some sports, like hockey or baseball, that, at the very least, seem hot, if not a little attractive, but golf isn't one of those. 
And of course, Harry loves to golf.
It's nothing against him, really. If she's being honest, in her eyes, golf is a rich man's sport. Since they started seeing each other months ago, Harry has always made it a point to go golfing at least once a week. He has a membership to a country club nearby and either goes by himself, with his friends, or takes business partners there, where they spend the day drinking and hitting balls and whatever else wealthy people do at country clubs.
Mia wouldn't know because she's never gone and, quite frankly, she never wants to go. 
She adores Harry. She really, truly does, but being a frequent attender of the country club to play such a silly, boring sport just serves as another class barrier between them. Harry grew up going to golf camp, for crying out loud! Mia spent her summers working at the local ice cream shop, where she got paid $7 an hour to get yelled at by angry parents because she was only allowed to let their kids taste three flavors before they had to buy something.
So when Harry asks if she wants to spend her Saturday golfing with him at the club, she tries to come up with a million excuses as to why she can't. But because he's him, and he has a pretty face and a soothing voice and he threw in the prospect of spoiling her with a massage at the spa after they finished their game, she can't find it in her to say no. 
Harry has a business dinner the night before so Mia sleeps at her own place, which she's kind of surprised with, to be honest. (She anticipated him asking her to stay over so she didn't have a chance to get out of it.) Even despite the text he sent her at 11:40 pm to let her know that he got home safely (that's basically 2 am in Harry time), he shows up to her house in his golf clothes at 9 am on the dot, breakfast and coffee in hand. 
Mia has to physically drag herself out of bed to let him in, a scowl on her face, even though he went out of his way to go to her favorite bagel shop. 
"Morning, grumpy," he greets cheekily, smushing a kiss to her cheek. He doesn't even bother toeing his shoes off like he normally does, instead giving her bum a soft pat when she turns back around, "We have reservations at the club for 10, so you should go get dressed. You can eat in the car."
"Are you sure you want me to go?" Mia asks, and Harry has to ignore the slight hopefulness to her tone, "I've never even played golf before, I don't think I'll be very good—"
"It's not about being good, honey, I just want to spend the day with you. Show you off, y'know?" he leans forward to press a kiss to her temple before ducking down to catch her ear. "Now be good and go get dressed."
He doesn't catch the narrowing of her eyes as she reluctantly heads back to her bedroom, where she grabs the stupid golf outfit he insisted on buying her for this very occasion. She told him she was fine with wearing leggings and a tee-shirt, but he explained to her that there was a certain etiquette that came with golf, which included clothing. (Like Mia said, it's a rich man's sport.) So he bought her a short little skirt and a workout top and, if she's being frank, she's not sure if it's not more for him than it is for the game itself. 
She tried it on a few days ago when he brought it over and she batted at his chest when she saw the length of the skirt on her — unlike those trendy workout skorts that had spandex shorts underneath, the pleats of the one Harry purchased barely went down to the tops of her thighs. With a grumble, she said she'd just wear boyshorts to make sure no one "saw the goods."
But now that she's getting dressed for their golf day, she thinks she has a better idea. 
. . . 
Mia sucks at golf.
Harry keeps trying to encourage her and help her, but they're on hole 8 of 18, and she's exhausted. It's warm, she's sweaty, and Harry's beating her ass in the game. (What else would you expect from someone who spent their summer vacations playing every day?) 
"You got this, baby," he says, giving her waist a small squeeze as they approach hole nine. She rolls her eyes from behind her sunglasses, rolling out her wrist in an effort to get rid of the cramps. "Do you still need me to help you?"
Just as she's about to say yes, she remembers the impulsive decision she made this morning. And she realizes she knows exactly how to get this game to end. 
"Actually, I think I can do it," she replies with a smile, jumping out from the golf cart. "Will you just stand behind me and make sure I'm doing it right?"
Harry's pleasantly surprised but nods his head, a zip of enthusiasm firing through his chest. He follows her out and stands with his hands on his hips as she sets herself up, trying to find her stance. 
Per Harry's instructions, she leans over just slightly, a small bend in her knees. And that's when he sees it. 
She's not wearing anything underneath her skirt. 
"Mia," he growls, ambling towards her to cover her from behind, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
"Um, I think it's called teeing off? That's what you said, anyway—"
"Not that," he mutters, a protective hand squeezing her hip. He glances around them to make sure no one's watching them as his fingers dance down to the hem of her skirt, gently pulling it down. "Why aren't you wearing any underwear, Mia?"
"Ohhhh, that?" she asks, turning in his grasp. "I must've forgotten them. I'm sorry."
She has a look of false innocence on her face, her eyes rounded slightly and her lips pouted as if she was truly making a genuine apology. He's seething — he wants nothing more than to bend her over his knee and issue loud, harsh smacks to her ass, but he thinks she would like that too much. 
"You're such a fucking slut." he mumbles angrily, his jaw clenching. He grabs the golf club from her hand and uses his other to yank her back in the direction of the golf cart, a surprised yelp sounding from her mouth. "Are you that much of a brat that you've been walking around with your pussy out all day?"
She shrugs nonchalantly as she climbs into the golf cart. Harry rolls his eyes and shifts the key into the ignition, starting the machine back up. 
"Guess you'll just have to take me home, then," Mia replies with a sigh. Harry snorts and shakes his head. 
"You fucking wish," he says. She blinks at him. "No, baby. I'm gonna take you into one of those private bathrooms, edge you until you're crying, and then we're gonna finish this game."
Mia's eyes widen, shifting uncomfortably in her seat as he drives over a bump in the road. 
"Good thing I brought that nifty little remote control vibrator with me," he continues with a smirk. "Had a feeling you'd be a fuckin' brat today."
Mia doesn't know if she's ever regretted something so much before.
564 notes · View notes
sorrowedpickle · 10 months
Text
Lock it
Jenna Ortega x fem!reader
A/N: I ate a bagel making this
Warning: smut, car sex
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Jenna?” You ask quietly, leaning close to her as she holds on your wrist tightly, jaw set and eyes covered by her sunglasses as you make your way through the paparazzi.
Loud voices call out to the two of you to turn this way and that but Jenna didn’t budge or give them a chance, moving quickly past the large crowd to get to her set destination in mind.
The car. Away from prying eyes behind the tented glass and a good possible sound barrier.
Her grip tightens slightly as people move in a little closer, eager to get a picture of the short woman and her girlfriend.
She pulled you along and you apologized sheepishly to the people you both bumped into even if it was their fault for trying to get a photo or autograph and it made your heart beat a little faster when Jenna wasn’t stopping like she usually did.
You both went out for lunch with a few friends of hers from the scream cast. One of the most interesting and friendly groups you had ever met with all their own different personalities it fit so perfectly.
Jenna thought they were a little too friendly it seemed. Jack Champion was the one who brought her to this state, he was shamelessly flirty-friendly with everyone and any other time she didn’t seem to really care for it. But when it was you, oh it made a knot tie tightly in her throat as she tried refraining herself from saying or doing anything about it knowing the man was just like that.
But that didn’t mean she couldn’t take out her frustrations in another way that didn’t involve yelling but in you screaming her name just for her to hear.
Though you showed no interest in the man or played along with his little jokes she couldn’t help the burning sensation in her throat.
So, she came up with an excuse to go back to your car to get something, saying she didn’t want to leave you behind. A very lousy and obvious excuse to be honest.
Eventually, you both got into the parking garage where the paparazzi were not allowed and she drags you deeper in, passing the many expensive cars without taking a second glance as you near her Audi.
Before you could even question her, she yanked the door open and pushed you in hurriedly.
You struggle to get in slightly, legs stuck at where your feet go as you crawl in with her pushing you. You looked stupid and you were very glad the paparazzi weren’t here to see the short woman you into her car with such ease.
Once in, the door slams shut behind her her hands impatiently reaches for your face, nose smushing against yours hurriedly as if someone was going to do it before her.
You squirm slightly, back against the hard making you slightly uncomfortable before eventually finding a place that would have to do for the time being.
You feel her hands roam across your body, from your face down to her neck then to your tits squeezing causing a gasp to leave you before a moan follows suite.
Your arms reach around her shoulders, pulling her impossibly closer as her tongue roams inside your mouth, feeling every angle she can feeling the vibration course through her face when you moan.
Her hands move down to your waist and she plays with the hem of your shirt, wanting it off as soon as possible.
You let pull, moving away from the door to help her lift it off leaving you in your bra. Her mouth immediately connects to your jaw, throwing your shirt to the front of the car somewhere as she sucks along to your neck.
Your breathing gets heavier as her hands slowly move up your torso, playing with the lace of your bra.
You felt her nose breathing heavily as well, air fanning across your as she tried to reach across your back but the sound of people laughing caught your attention.
You look as her mouth stays on your neck, hands playing with your bra strap trying to get it undone.
You practically break your neck to look back at the group that was walking in the direction of Jenna’s car and you feel your heart drop when the lights flicker and hear little unlock beep.
“Jenna-“ you hiss out, pushing her shoulders back as the group nears unbeknownst the the fact that their it girl is about to fuck her girlfriend in the car next to them.
Of course, you wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t for the fact that her car wasn’t exactly sound proof, sounds from the inside could be heard if loud enough and you knew you were going to be loud, not to mention the possibility of it echoing through the parking lot.
You can already feel the embarrassment of it all if somebody passed and heard the two of you, and even worse if the paparazzi heard from outside the parking lot. Oh the head lines, you’d never see the end of it and the public would never see your face again.
“Jenna Ortega, America’s it girl, caught having intercourse with her partner, Y/N Y/L/N, in parking lot.”
You’d definitely die right then and there if that popped up on your phone.
“The doors,” you say when she whines and sits back, dark eyes looking down at you full of lust. “Lock them.”
She simply huffs out and crawls to the front seat, which was easily done with her size and clicks the lock button.
You look back, ignoring the way she quickly moves back and presses her body back to yours. A boy looks toward her car, confused as the why a little click went off. It only gets worse when he looks directly at you through the tented windows and you suck in deeply, it didn’t help when Jenna unzipped your pants and pushed her hand past your panties.
You bite your lip, holding back a moan when her fingers press onto your clit firmly, rolling the pads over it in a slow a fluid motion that makes you let out a shaky breath.
He stares for another moment, looking over and around the car before turning around and getting into the car.
You let out a sigh a relief that’s sucked right back in when Jenna applies more pressure to your clit. A small moan escapes as you lift your hips to help her pull down your pants a more.
She pushes into you more, face in your neck as she leaves hot, open mouth kisses all the while rubbing your clit in fast circular motions that had a tight knot form in your stomach embarrassingly quick.
Her fingers move down further quickly being replaced by her thumb that continues the attack on your clit, as her fingers move down to line up with your entrance.
She sucks in a breath, the feeling of your wetness on her fingers start to move her feel things as she gathers a little and slides her fingers inside with ease.
You let out a slow and low moan that quickly turns into a whine when she doesn’t move, your hands clawing at her own top.
She begins to move when you do this, quickly setting a pace that has you moaning her name into her ear as she continues to kiss your neck.
Her lips and teeth grazing over your pulse point sends shivers down your spine as her hot tongue trails across your warm skin causing you to jolt and her fingers to go deeper inside of you.
A loud moan escapes your mouth causing you to quickly bite your lip in attempt to hold in your noises, feeling her fingers buried deep inside your cunt.
This makes her smile, staring down at her the mess she’s made and her fingers knuckle deep inside of you, pushing in and pulling out while her thumb plays with your clit.
A sight she’s seen many times since she’s got together but could never get enough of, a sight for her and only her.
She pumps faster, knowing no matter how slow or fast she went you’d cum eventually by her touch alone. She loved the effect she had on you.
You cry out, hands holding onto her top and bunching it up in your hands to have something to hold onto as you slide down the door, her following in suite to stay in her place fingering you and sucking your neck.
You feel your orgasm about to spill over when she shifts to another angle, finding a way to get deeper inside you. You throw your head back, hitting the glass and a loud thump sounds but it doesn’t stop either of you, you your panting and moaning just continues and Jenna moves to your throat. Her tongue trailing from the ends of your collar bone up to jaws nerve, feeling you swallow as it twitches.
You pull her impossibly closer, thighs squeezing shut to trap her hand between them only for her to use her free hand to force them open again, now moving at a harsher pace as she sucks on your throat.
You cry out again and the knot inside of you finally snaps, legs shaking as a long and broken moan leaves your throat while Jenna slows her moves, soft kisses now being place onto your neck and back up to your jaw while you grip onto her top tightly.
A gurgle sound escapes you as your body relaxes again, head hitting the window again as you breathed through your mouth quickly trying to catch your breath again.
You breath is shallow as you stare up at the top of the car, dark dots sprinkling across your vision from cumming so hard while you tried to calm down.
Jenna smiles at you as her hands moved up and down your tights slowly to soothe you and help you come down from you obvious with your eyes unfocused and still shaking slightly.
You look almost peaceful. Your face relaxed and looking like your even heaven though covered in sweat still peaceful.
Eventually, you look down toward her and her smile grows. Your eyes soft and still slightly unfocused like your trying to take in your surroundings once again.
She leans forward, placing a kiss to the side of your mouth and wrapping her arms around you tightly with a sigh of content.
You stay like that for a few minutes, a peaceful rare moment with no paparazzi or fans rushing after you in public. Just you two together to enjoy the slight privacy together.
“If you wanted to fuck, we could have stayed home.” You say suddenly, making the woman smile as she sits up to look at you.
“Thought we could spice things up a little bit.” Your own smile grows as you roll your eyes, leaning forward to peck her lips before reaching behind her to grab your pants.
That’s when she notices it, the multiple red marks that trail across your neck and shoulder and she stiffens, eyes wide.
Oh no, she was in trouble.
“Maybe we should go home.” She mumbles still staring at the marks then looking back up at you sheepishly.
You stare at her for a moment, eyes narrowed before quickly moving up to front seat to look in the rear view mirror, eyes widening as you look at Jenna through the mirror.
“I’m going to kill you, what did we say about hickeys!” You cry out, rubbing the marks harshly as if they would go away.
Jenna sinks into the seat, trying to look as innocent as possible and hide from the wrath and scolding about the come her way.
“It was the heat of the moment.” She mumbles with a pout and you whip your head around to glare at her.
“Well, it’s about to be the heat of you moment when i do the same to you!” You say quickly moving back toward her and she squeals.
Tagslist: @bluetreecloud20 @skate-to-breathee @wol-fica @raven-ss @restlessdot @dumb-fvck104 @tabberthecat @crazyoffher @rhythm-catsandwine @makncheese12 @alexkolax @jennasfav @melthedwarf @t-wylia @unknownuserzdjdh
1K notes · View notes
roosterforme · 3 months
Text
Always Ever Only You Part 33 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Getting through your second presentation feels like a battle of wits against your own body. Then after weeks of barely being able to stomach anything, you are presented with the most enticing dinner. But it's the food that's alluring, not your dinner mate, and Bradley has a few things to say about the mess you get yourself caught up in.
Warnings: Swearing, adult language, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff, phone sex, masturbation
Length: 5800 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
Tumblr media
You slept like a lovesick log after your long drive back to the hotel from the cemetery. Exhausted from throwing up in the shrubs, you curled up in bed and watched the video you took for your son or daughter. You had recorded yourself reading both headstones and having a little conversation with your in-laws about the baby. It was just meant to be something you and Bradley could watch one day with the nugget, but it brought a smile to your face. 
You were decidedly no longer smiling when you woke up on Wednesday and had to race to the toilet. "Why is this happening again?" you asked the bath mat as you curled up in a ball. You had another, longer presentation to give. You had admirals to chat with. You had a whole lot to get done today. You didn't have time for this right now.
Even brushing your teeth was a chore. Changing into your uniform was an issue. At least your pants felt a little looser today. You honestly could not keep up with the way your body was bloated half the time and normal the rest of the time. 
You realized your makeup was pretty much the only thing holding your life together at the moment as you swiped on some mascara. Then there was a knock at your door, and it felt like you were doing the same thing all over again today, because essentially you were. You and Cat had to struggle with the bin of equipment. You had to fight to stay awake in the rental car. The nausea was turning  your life into a game of sheer determination to keep the bagel that you ate from coming back up. 
"Are you okay?" Cat asked you a few minutes before the presentation was about to start. 
"Of course," you told her in what you hoped was a reassuring tone. "Why wouldn't I be?" You shrugged and smiled serenely at her. 
"Because you're sweating bullets. And you've been pacing around the hallway."
You cleared your throat and insisted, "It's just really hot in here."
"It's not," she replied. "Please. I'm begging you. Just keep it together for another ninety minutes, okay? After that, you can do anything you want. Hell, I'll do anything you want me to do. But we need to get through this presentation." 
Her voice sounded panicked, and now you were looking around the hallway for a garbage can. But it was too late. The two of you were being called into the presentation room. Commander Patterson and Admiral Klein were sitting in the front row smiling at you. Shit, more admirals were here today. Oh fuck, all of these people wanted to hear your extended presentaion. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of your neck, past your shoulder blades and along your spine. You wanted Bradley. You wanted Bradley to hold you and let you throw up everywhere and tell you that you were still pretty and that he loved you even if you cried on the toilet and ate crackers while you lay on the floor. 
Tears burned your eyes, and Cat looked like she was going to scream. Pull it together. Ignore the sensation. Clip the microphone onto your shirt. Start talking. 
"Good afternoon. Lieutenant Coleman and I are back to expound upon our research presentation from Monday which covered communications engineering at Top Gun. You can find a copy of our slides in the information packet in front of you. Please hold your questions until we pause for a break. Let's get started."
--------------------------
Bradley really wasn't doing well without you at home. He was barely eating anything besides cereal and sandwiches, and he was going to bed hungry at night. The only fun he'd been having was slowly filling up that pink and blue notebook with his musings for the little nugget.
He was having a hard time sleeping, and he didn't like how quiet the house was. Even Tramp kept looking for you, occasionally running to the front door and whimpering. "We'll see her on Friday," he told the dog as he had potato chips and coffee for breakfast on Wednesday morning. "Two more days of this bullshit." 
When he got home from work on Tuesday, he broke down in tears as he looked at the photos you sent him from the cemetery. You even took a video where you were talking to him and the nugget and his parents. He still couldn't believe you took the time to drive there and make it so special for him. After he finished crying, he made his way back up to the attic where he took the half wall down to the studs. Then he realized that he really needed to call some contractors before you came home and saw the mess he made. 
While he drove to work in the red Bronco, he left messages, hoping to get some estimates in the next week or so. One thing that he'd been slowly coming to terms with was the fact that you didn't need him to take care of you by paying for everything. Both of your incomes were going toward the mortgage payments and all the necessities. You'd both been saving money for the future, and he figured the future had arrived since there was a baby on the way. 
When he parked in the garage on base, he noticed he had some new texts from you.
Baby Girl Bradshaw: I miss you. I'm struggling today. I think the nugget hates me. I'll call you later after my presentation and all of this other shit is over. 
He wanted to text you back, but he didn't want to be a distraction, so he tucked his phone into his pocket and ran his fingers through his hair. He had been reading every pregnancy article online that he could find, but none of the tricks he saw were helping you with the nausea. You were probably just going to have to wait it out. He would be ready to rub your shoulders and put a cool washcloth on the back of your neck when you got home.
Bradley walked the long way around to the classrooms since he was early and didn't need to stop in the locker room to change. When he passed the stairwell that would have taken him up to your office and the engineering labs, he swore he heard Bob's voice. He paused, and he definitely heard Bob's laugh. When the door to the stairs opened, he heard Bob say, "We can always find out later tonight if you want to invite me to your room again." And then there was a very familiar, feminine laugh before Bob appeared ten feet ahead of him.
He stared at Bob, and Bob stared back as the door closed, leaving the two of them alone. Bradley thought back to the way Bob and Maria were looking a little cozy at brunch last Sunday. This was interesting.
"Hey, Bob," Bradley said with a grin. "How are you enjoying your new apartment with Maria?"
His cheeks immediately flushed pink, and Bradley bit his lip to keep quiet as Bob started stuttering. Frankly, he was proud of his friend for sounding so much more self assured a few seconds ago when he was tucked inside the stairwell with Maria. "I-I d-don't know... are y-you... I d-din't think that..."
Bradley let him flounder through a few more partial sentences before he said, "If you're hooking up with Maria Wilson, then good for you, man. Well done."
Bob cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses and ran his hand along the back of his neck. "Thanks," he muttered as he stared at the floor. 
"You want me to keep this information to myself?"
Bob's blue eyes went wide as they met Bradley's. "Please." He swallowed hard. "I don't think she wants anyone else to know." His voice was just a whisper as he said, "I'm sure she'd be embarrassed if people found out."
Then he turned and left Bradley standing there alone. He'd been in that position before with you. Before you made things official. And he had been miserable. "Poor Bob," he muttered as he followed him at a distance. The best case scenario would be if Maria confided in you when you got back from Annapolis. Bradley would have to be cool about you going to brunch on Sunday even though he already wanted you and the baby all to himself again all weekend.
-----------------------
You made it. Somehow you got through the full hour and a half. You nailed your parts, and so did Cat. You and she answered questions for at least an additional thirty minutes, and now she was packing up the equipment while you sent a quick text to Bickel. 
"Your research is very compelling, Lieutenant Commander."
You looked up into the eyes of Commander Patterson, and he smiled warmly at you. Unfortunately, the only thing you could really think about was the way you'd been picturing Bradley's cock the last time you talked to him. At the moment, you were so fucking horny, you felt like rubbing yourself against the wall and crying until you got some relief.
"Thank you, sir," you managed to say while you tried to focus on his face and his words. "It has really become a passion project, trying to keep actual aviators in the air versus the drone agenda. Real people making real decisions based on their surroundings and the immediate threats they are facing will always win out against a laboratory manufactured software protocol."
"I couldn't agree more." He took a step closer and said, "And the way you presented your findings made it so clear that you're eager for others to understand how important that is as well."
"Absolutely," you told him with a smile of your own. "And the funding for communications research is so important." 
You were probably going to have to go to the cocktail hour tonight just to get your face out there since you skipped the previous one to drive to Virginia. But you were almost instantly saved from having to do that as Commander Patterson said, "I'm planning on having dinner this evening with a few of the admirals if you'd like to join us. Cocktail attire. Overpriced steaks. You know, the usual." 
His slight eye roll had you laughing and agreeing immediately. That sounded a lot better than trying to ditch champagne flutes all night. You'd still be able to chat with some superiors, and right now, you were actually hungry. "That sounds great. I'll see if Lieutenant Coleman can join as well."
With that, his smile wavered a bit, but he told you the name of the restaurant, and you promised to be there at seven o'clock. Cat had all the equipment packed up, and she was ready for you to help her carry the bin. "Hey, you want to come eat an overpriced steak later? With Commander Patterson and some others?" you asked as you tried your best to lift with your legs.
"Why didn't you tell me before? I already agreed to some stupid happy hour with a handful of admirals, but I love overpriced food when you don't have to pay for it."
You laughed and said, "That's probably better. We can divide and conquer this way. Bickel will like that."
As the two of you hoisted the bin into the rental car, Cat smiled and said, "You know what else he'll like? The fact that we nailed the presentation again today. I'm sorry I doubted you."
"Don't do it again," you told her with a smirk. Of course then you promptly started falling asleep while she drove back to the hotel, and when you got to your room, you passed out in bed until it was time to get ready for dinner. 
It was only three o'clock for Bradley, and even though you wanted to call him, you decided to wait a little longer. You inhaled a pack of peanut butter crackers while your stomach growled loudly. "What is with you today?" you asked the baby. "You're finally hungry? Or are you going to make me barf again?" You got a loud rumble in response. "I know you like Daddy better, and we'll be home in two days. Relax."
As you redid your makeup, you started thinking about Bradley. And then you thought about how delicious he smelled right after he finished a workout. And then you thought about how nice and big his cock is. And then you thought about all the sounds he makes and the way me moans your name when his cock is inside you.
"Oh hell," you whined, pressing your thighs together. You needed to get some relief with your toys until you could get back home, but you didn't have time for that right now. The combination of being so hungry and so horny was almost too much to handle, and you ended up calling Bradley on the short drive to the restaurant. It was barely four there, so you were surprised when he answered. 
"Hey, Sweetheart."
Two words. He said two fucking words, and you were moaning and having a hard time focusing to drive. "Roo. Oh my god."
"What's wrong?" he snapped immediately. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," you gasped, parking the car and squeezing the steering wheel. "I'm just so horny. And Commander Patterson asked me out to dinner, and I seriously need to get fucked, Bradley. Like you have no idea how bad it is right now."
You could hear him mutter something, and then you thought you heard Jake's voice before Bradley quietly said, "Baby Girl, I'll fuck the absolute shit out of you all weekend. In fact, I can't wait to do that. I'll take care of everything you need."
"Daddy," you moaned, realizing you should have masturbated instead of taking that nap.
"But please tell me who the fuck Commander Patterson is. All I know is that you said he's that guy who asked if Top Gun aviation is the right fit for you?" Another moan escaped your lips as you thought about being a tight fit for your husband. "Yeah, you sound wrecked, Sweetheart," he crooned in that raspy voice. "I don't think you should go to dinner with some guy I don't know. I don't care what his rank is.
You sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It's not just with him. Some admirals are coming too. I need to meet the admirals, Bradley. And I'm already at the restaurant." When you looked further up the block, you saw Patterson heading inside.
Bradley made a frustrated sound. "Text me when you can? And call me when you're leaving later?"
"I will," you promised as your stomach growled. You were so excited that the nugget seemed to want to eat this steak, you almost hung up before you said, "I love you."
You straightened out your black cocktail dress as you practically ran down the sidewalk in your high heels which you rarely ever wore except in your bedroom with your husband. The delicious smells from the restaurant were wafting out onto the sidewalk, and you were going to cry if there wasn't some bread or something already waiting on the table. 
"There you are, Lieutenant Commander." 
Patterson was waiting inside the entryway where at least the sound of the air conditioner blasting and the conversation around you was blocking out your growling stomach. He was smiling as his hand found the small of your back. "Our table is ready. We can go right there." 
When he applied some pressure with his hand, you lurched forward. Perhaps he was just trying to help you navigate through the crowd, but he could keep his hands to himself. He must have known you were married. You decided to make a show of pointing out some hideous artwork with your left hand, practically shoving your rings in his face. "That's a lovely painting, Commander," you told him, but he just smiled and nodded at you before pulling out a chair at a table set for four.
"Please, call me Derek," he told you as he sank down into the seat across from you, and then he started using your first name without permission. The one blessing was the fact that there was an enormous basket of bread sitting right in the middle of the table along with a variety of spreads and dips. 
You moaned softly and had to bite your lip as you reached for a soft looking roll and the chive butter. Derek was staring at you with parted lips and wide pupils. Had he never seen a woman eat before? Had you ever been this hungry before? You licked your lips as you spread some of the butter onto the roll, and then you took a bite and moaned again. 
Holy. Fucking. Shit. 
After weeks of feeling miserable, you finally knew you could stomach this meal right now. You were still so turned on, and yet your exhaustion was bone deep at this point, but the bread was like a lifeline to normalcy, and you were grabbing onto it. 
Derek cleared his throat as he watched you take those first few sumptuous bites. "I've got to know," he said smoothly, "exactly what would lure you back to Annapolis for good?"
You popped the rest of the roll between your lips and chewed it up before you said, "Nothing."
"There would have to be something. Better research facilities? Your own lab? Both of your degrees and your work are so impressive, you must know there would be endless possibilities for you here."
You were shocked. Running your own lab was your dream. The idea of being in charge of a research team made your skin prickle with desire. You hoped that could be a possibility someday, but you weren't even thirty-five yet. You figured maybe ten years from now when Bickel was getting ready to retire, you'd be able to take his place. 
"My own lab?"
Derek smiled, all white teeth and handsome expression, and then the waitress arrived. You wanted to jump out of your seat and hug her when she asked if you'd like to order any appetizers.
"Do you know when the others will be here?" you asked Derek. "Should we wait to order?"
He shook his head vaguely. "They'll be late. We can order. Get whatever you want."
You almost laughed giddily as you ordered three appetizers and then a steak dinner complete with garlic mashed potatoes and two vegetables. "We can share the appetizers," you said when he looked at you in surprise, even though you didn't want to. You placed your hand on your belly, trying to subtly thank the baby for cooperating right now. 
When the waitress finished taking his order and then departed, you asked, "Which admirals are joining us?"
"Hmm? Oh... uh, Rivera and Silverman."
You were not familiar with either of them which made you panic slightly. You should have done more research on who was attending each of the lectures. Why hadn't you done that? Oh, right... because you were too busy throwing up. The bread basket called to you, and before you knew it, you'd eaten more than half while Derek droned on about how amazing you'd be running your own lab. He didn't even know you, which made this more annoying than anything else, but your stomach was holding up spectacularly, so you could overlook it. You could have kissed the waitress when she came back with the appetizers.
"So, do you live alone?" he asked as you dipped two mozzarella sticks into some marinara sauce. You paused before shoving them into your mouth so you could chuckle. 
"No. I live with my husband and our dog." Then the fried cheese hit your tongue, and it was like you were living in a world of color after weeks in black and white. Your stomach gurgled pleasantly, finally accepting food once again. Tears of joy stung at your eyes as you took a forkful of crispy brussels sprouts and a potato skin.
Derek laughed and asked how old you were, but your mouth was full, so he said, "Let's just say, my career in Annapolis outlived my bad marriage. And that's been the case for many, many officers."
You swallowed the potato like it was a lead weight. That had definitely been the case for Cat, unfortunately. And you'd heard a lot of stories, sure, especially when you were at the Naval Academy. And perhaps that was part of the reason you fought against the mere idea of being with Bradley at first. One officer in a relationship with a civilian was bad enough, but two officers trying to make it happen together usually spelled disaster.
But you felt stronger with Bradley. The two of you worked hard to get through your struggles and end up in a better place. You and he were going to be parents, for fuck's sake. 
"Just sharing my two cents with you," Derek added, still smiling. "You're young, and you haven't lived it yet, but I can tell you that you'll go farther here than in San Diego. Especially if you're already open to the idea of having more."
You wanted to check the time on your phone; you must have been sitting here for over half an hour by now. The other two chairs were still empty. Derek was starting to get under your skin. 
"I'm open to the idea of pursuing my career at Top Gun along with my husband."
"He's an officer as well?" Derek asked with a laugh. "I'm sure he's having a great week back in San Diego without you."
You felt heat flame up your neck and into your cheeks as your steak dinners arrived. "Yes, he's an officer. He's a Top Gun aviator."
"He deploys?" Derek asked in disbelief before laughing harder. "You should make the move back to the east coast now, before he ruins your life. If he hasn't already."
He had gone from complimenting you to trying to humiliate you in a matter of minutes. You'd been blinded by the glorious meal, but the truth hit you square in the chest. As he picked up his fork and steak knife, you asked, "Why did you lie to me about two admirals coming? Do Rivera and Silverman even exist?"
Somehow his smile was still persistent as he said, "Sure, they exist. They went to the cocktail reception on base." You watched the knife sink into his steak as he added, "You're gorgeous. I wanted to get you alone. Let you know how much better things could be. Offer to set you up for a one-on-one meeting with Admiral Jennings tomorrow if you come home with me tonight. It's on the table if you want it."
In one quick movement, you snatched his plate away from him with the fork still stuck in the steak. "Okay, well fuck you, Derek," you snarled, standing up and waving for the waitress. "You're disgusting and delusional if you thought I would even consider going home with you."
"Can I get you anything?" the waitress asked cautiously, and you realized you were causing a bit of a scene now in the crowded restaurant. 
"Yes. I need boxes. Like a whole bunch of takeout boxes," you told her. "I'm taking all of this food with me."
"Right," the waitress replied, her gaze drifting to Derek who looked very unamused. 
"I'm taking his meal, too," you snapped. "Hurry up with the boxes."
She scurried away as you piled all of the food onto one plate and said, "You're so fucking stupid, Derek. I already have Admiral Jennings' phone number. I met her last year. I told her to her face that I'm staying in San Diego."
"Well then you're making a bad choice," he told you.
Then the waitress set down some takeout containers while you practically tossed the empty plate back at Derek. You scraped as much of the food into the first box as would fit before moving to the second one. "He's paying for dinner," you told the waitress. "And I'm taking one fork and one steak knife with me. He'll pay for those as well." You shoved the rest of the bread into the last box and then stacked them all up before meeting Derek's eyes. "You just ruined the first meal I've been able to stomach in weeks, asshole. And my husband is a nice man. Very sweet. Treats people with respect. But if he were here right now, you'd have a bloody face and some broken ribs." 
You picked up the boxes, grabbed the utensils, and made your way toward the exit. You went straight for your rental car and climbed inside before cranking the engine. Then you took a massive bite of garlic mashed potatoes before cutting off a piece of Derek's steak while you called your husband. 
-------------------------
Bradley was working out in the garage when your ringtone cut across the playlist you made for him. He practically dropped his barbell to the cement floor to get his phone from where it was sitting on the tool chest. "Sweetheart. I wasn't expecting to hear from you quite yet. Didn't we just get off the phone?" he asked with a smile as he ran his forearm along his sweaty face. "Not that I mind one bit." He was about to ask if you were done with dinner, but then he realized that you were crying. The sweat on his skin turned ice cold as he quickly asked, "What's wrong?"
"Roo," you wailed, and he started looking around the garage as if there was something out here that would help both of you calm down. "He ruined my fucking dinner!" you sobbed.
"What are you talking about?" he asked as he paced the length of the garage, running his fingers through his damp hair. "Who ruined it?"
"Commander Patterson."
Bradley honestly could not fathom how that guy had ruined your dinner. All he knew was that you told him you were horny as hell when you got to the restaurant, and that he didn't trust guys he didn't know around you. Most men were disgusting, and you were lovely and also pregnant with his child.
"Can you explain what happened so I can understand?" he asked as calmly as he could.
"Yeah," you sniffed, and he heard a car engine start up in the background. "The nugget and I were both really enjoying the food. Like really enjoying it, Bradley. You know how I've been, and this was delectable and exactly what we both wanted. Like it was so good, if you'd been there with me looking super sexy, I would have probably had an orgasm in the middle of the damn restaurant."
Bradley swallowed hard as he stood in the garage, wondering where the hell this was going. "I understand. You haven't been able to eat much, so that must have felt amazing. Now can you tell me what's wrong?"
"He ruined it!" you replied loudly. "He lied to me! There were no admirals planning on joining us. He tricked me into meeting him there, and then he gave me fake compliments and accolades about my work. He told me that I could get ahead with a career in Annapolis if I slept with him, all because he wanted to fuck me!"
Bradley almost dropped his phone. "Did he touch you?" he growled, switching to speaker phone as he rushed through the backyard toward the house and looked for flights to Maryland at the same time. "Did he fucking touch you?!"
"No!" you practically shrieked. "No, he didn't touch me! You think I'd let him get anywhere near me after he ruined my dinner?"
"Where are you now?" he demanded. "And what's this Commander fucking Patterson's first name?" 
Bradley was seeing red as he walked inside and slammed the sliding glass door behind him, and Tramp ran whimpering into the spare room. The earliest he could get out of San Diego on an eastbound flight was a red eye that left at 9:30, and that was nearly four hours from now.
"I'm not telling you his name," you said softly with a little sniff at the end. "I'm afraid you'll strangle him."
Frankly, if Bradley got his hands on the asshole, he'd probably wish all he got was strangled to death. "Where are you now?" he asked again, trying to keep his voice calmer.
"In my rental car."
"Alone?
"Yes!"
"Good," he replied as he clenched and unclenched his fist and headed for the shower. "Go back to your hotel room, and text me the address. I'll stay on the phone with you until you get there, and then I'll be out on a red eye that lands in Annapolis at 5:55 tomorrow morning local time. And then you'll tell me his first name, and I'll beat the shit out of him for ruining your dinner and acting like my wife is his for the taking."
"Bradley," you said firmly. "I do not need you to come out here. I already feel better now that I told you about it."
"Well, I sure as fucking hell don't," he grunted, peeling off his sweaty clothes in the bathroom. "Does he know which hotel you're staying at? And where the hell is Cat?"
You groaned and said, "No, he doesn't know. And Cat went to the actual cocktail reception with the actual admirals. I seriously hate Commander Patterson. But I did steal his dinner, so that's making me feel a little bit better."
His thumb was hovering over his phone screen, ready to purchase a seat on this flight. "Wait, you stole his dinner?"
"Yes. I took it. When I tell you the food was that good, Bradley, I am not joking. I housed most of the appetizers and the bread basket, and then I took his plate before he even got a bite of his porterhouse. I dumped all of the food into takeout boxes, took some silverware, told the waitress he'd pay for everything, and then I left."
Bradley burst into laughter in spite of himself. He could actually picture it so clearly. The haughty expression on your face. Your biting wit once you figured out what was going on. The way you must have looked dumping the steaks into the containers. "You're a damn force to be reckoned with, Baby Girl. Are you driving back to the hotel with all the food?"
"Yeah. I mean I did eat a few bites when I first got back in the car, because the baby was demanding it, but I'm absolutely going to eat the rest in my room. Fuck that guy. He doesn't even deserve his overpriced steak. It's mine now."
Bradley cradled his forehead in his hand and laughed. "Do you really not need me to come out there?"
He heard you take a deep breath before you said, "I miss you a lot, but I really do not need you to come out, okay? The nugget and I are fine now, ruined dinner aside."
"Alright," he murmured. "If you change your mind, you have two hours to let me know, and I'll be knocking on your door by 7 in the morning."
You moaned and whispered, "God, that does sound good. I'm back at the hotel. Heading up to my room now. Any chance you feel like having phone sex before I eat my two steaks and roughly four pounds of potatoes?"
"Fuck," he grunted, his cock already getting hard as he looked down at himself. "Yeah. A hundred percent. Let me just get in the shower here."
"Okay, Daddy," you muttered, and Bradley was practically tripping over himself as he started up the spray of water. Once you were safely inside your room, you told him, "I'm ready when you are."
-------------------------
You got off twice to your vibrator and your husband's sexy voice. It was so easy to imagine him in the shower with the sound of the water in the background. You could picture the steam snaking around his body while he held his thick cock in his hand. You could practically taste his skin and smell the body wash he was definitely using as lube. 
"That's my sweet girl," he crooned as you started to peak for the second time. "When I get you home on Friday, my mouth is going to be all over that pussy. I miss you so much. I want my wife and my baby with me."
"Bradley," you whined, legs bent and shaking as you got closer. "I need you to fuck me. I'm so goddamn horny for you!"
He grunted right into the phone and said, "Keep it up, and I'll break your new car at the airport, too."
And then you came. Hard. Your chest was sweaty. Your back was arching off the bed. The vibrator rolled out of your grasp, and you stroked yourself with your fingers and whispered his name over and over. 
"I'm about to come," Bradley moaned. And you could hear the exact second he was probably making a white mess all over the tile wall. You imagined it on your belly instead. 
You just wanted to go home, and when your back finally settled against the bedding you said, "I need you to promise to fuck me at least twenty times between Friday night and Monday morning."
"Make it thirty, Sweetheart," he crooned as he panted. "At least. I fucking need it, too."
You turned your head to the side where a photo of him was still pulled up on your phone. "Sounds perfect. Don't forget, I'm having dinner with my mom and dad tomorrow, so please FaceTime when you're walking out of work if you can."
"For the love of all things holy, please don't talk about your parents when I'm still holding my cock."
You giggled, and then he laughed. "I won't do it again," you promised as you sat up in bed, eyeing the takeout containers on the desk. "I love you, Roo. I'm going to eat Derek Patteron's steak, take a shower, and then pass out."
"I love you too, Baby Girl. Can you put your phone down by your belly?"
"Mmhmm," you hummed, pressing your lips together to keep from squealing at how sweet this man was.
"And I love you, too, my little nugget. Be nice to Mommy."
---------------------------
BG is all over the place... Roo probably has whiplash. Derek should be punished for ruining that meal for her and the baby. Just a few chapters left, and we'll have another series for them in the books! Thanks for reading! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 34
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@chassy21
@solacestyles
@daisyhollyxox
@wintercap89
@blog-name6996
@bcon24
@chaoticassidy
@avada-kedavra-bitch-187
@katiebby04
@marantha
@averyhotchner
@abaker74
@heli991113
@k-k0129
@noz4a2
@shanimallina87
@little-wiseone
@ccbb2222
@xoxabs88xox
@thedroneranger
@cherrycola27
@fanboyswhore9
@xomrsalliej4787xo
@desert-fern
@sylviebell
@wkndwlff
@horseslovers2016
@gennyanydots
@mattyskies
@hookslove1592
@blahehblah
@sadpetalsstuff
@local-spidey
@schoollover
@lex-winchester
@magicalmorg
@nicole01-23
@jessicab1991
@happyrebelruins
@samsgoddess
@ughthisisntright
@bellaireland1981
@sagittarius-flowerchild
@mygyn
@yuckosworld
484 notes · View notes
eyelessfaces · 11 months
Text
tousled, stubbled, tired
miguel o'hara x reader
well basically I've been obsessed with the concept art for miguel so it is heavily inspired by those (x). not my fault he looks so boyfriend
summary: miguel is on the edge of a burn out, and he's the only one not seeing it.
warnings: none too important I think, just miguel being really tired because he works a lot. swearing, one small (and cringe) innuendo.
tags: gn!reader, established relationship, angst, fluff, domestic fluff, hurt/comfort?, nerdy miguel<3
word count: 2.1k
masterlist | taglist | ao3
Tumblr media
Miguel hadn’t slept at home in days; you had been fairly accustomed to him leaving in the middle of the night for safety matters in Nueva York and coming back early in the morning, but now that the threat was multiversal and now that he was the leader of the spider society, he didn’t even bother getting to bed in the first place.
He in fact barely even left the spider society; the rare times he did were for missions, and when he came back he didn’t even take the time to catch a break; he always had something to fix, something to build, a new suit to work on, a machine to program, meetings, briefings, then more missions.
You wondered how he still had all that energy and where it came from, and you wondered how he hadn’t burnt out yet. 
Even the small naps he took from time to time – against his will, you had found him passed out on his desk one day, head resting over folded arms, mouth slightly opened, soft snores escaping – couldn't possibly make up for his lack of sleep, and even though his mutation may grant him more stamina and allow him to stay awake longer than the average human being, the dark circles under his eyes were the visual proof of his fatigue, and it was all you needed to try to drag his ass back home so he could get some rest.
You watched from a distance as Miguel was sitting on the floor, a monkey wrench in hand and a screw sitting between his lips. He looked focused, a small crease forming between his eyebrows as he tried to fix his machine – you had no idea what it was for, but you figured it must be important considering the significant amount of time he had already taken trying to fix it. 
Miguel gasped in surprise at your contact, slightly jumping at the sudden feeling of your hands over his shoulders, your unexpected and unannounced presence tearing him out of his developing state of drowsiness.
“Shit you scared me” he grunted softly, grabbing the screw at his mouth before turning to look back at you.
"Sorry" you apologized, bending to leave a kiss at the top of his head, your thumbs rubbing where his suit was peeking out under the baggy clothes he had been wearing for probably way too long. His shoulders muscles were stiff and you felt them tense even more when he turned back to his machine with a small sigh.
You joined him and pushed the hammer and nails out of the way before sitting down next to him. 
"When was the last time you went to the cafeteria for something other than the coffee?" you asked accusingly as you looked down at the empty mug beside him on the floor, your hand resting at the back of his neck, playing with the hair there.
He shrugged, still looking at the open hatch of the machine in front of him. 
“A bagel won’t keep me awake” he muttered, his voice slightly muffled by the object in his mouth as he tightened a bolt, putting his tool back on the floor with a clinking before grabbing another.
“You still need to eat, you won’t get to finish fixing this machine if you die first” you scolded him as your hand left him, looking at him sternly.
He turned to you and let go of his screw before putting a hand at your arm, his tired eyes boring into yours.
“I'll eat, I promise, but I'll do that once I'm done. I’m really close to getting it, I almost have it solved.” he declared, tilting his head towards the machine as his grip around your arm lightly tightened.
You closed your eyes and nodded once before you opened your mouth to talk again, but Miguel had already turned back to work at his machine. You let out a small sigh and grabbed the screw he previously had at his mouth to fiddle with it.
"When was the last time you had a real night of sleep? Because I don't recall seeing you in our bed in what– almost a week at least?"
"Are we playing 21 questions?" he asked sarcastically as he turned to you again, clearly beginning to lose patience. 
You paused and looked away from him, a small sigh leaving your mouth before you looked back in his direction.
"We're playing 'I'm worried about my boyfriend', it's a game where said boyfriend barely takes care of himself and drowns in work and in which everyone around him witnesses his vital needs getting neglected." you said as you didn’t even try to make it sound like a joke, just blatantly showing him how upset you were.
He pinched his lips before his gaze dropped to his lap.
“Miguel” you called. “Take a break. Please. This is a request for now but if you keep on being stubborn this is gonna become an order” you said as you shifted closer to him. 
"I don't wanna fight with you. I really don't" you nodded as you put a hand to his shoulder. 
"And you would lose, because you don't have enough energy to outbid, and it's gonna hurt your ego so it's best for the both of us if you just listen to me" you explained, a smile appearing over your face when he softly chuckled and shook his head. "Okay?" you asked raising your eyebrows, awaiting his response.
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay" he nodded, his half lidded, tired and bloodshot eyes looking up at you. 
"Good" you pinched your lips in a smile as you brushed away the shorter strands of his tousled hair falling over his forehead, before leaving a kiss there.
He tiredly smiled at you when you pulled away, leaning into your touch when your fingers ghosted over the light stubble on his cheeks that had grown over the past few days.
You shrugged. “I like it” 
“I don’t.”
You chuckled at his harsh response, your hand fully resting at his cheek. “Come back home with me and we’ll shave it.” you shrugged. “After a well needed shower” you continued, teasing him as you pinched your nose and faked a wince, making him nudge your side as he huffed out a laugh.
“I know it’s getting critical, I just haven’t had the time for it” he said grunting as he got up from the floor. “Lyla even said 'I don’t have olfactory sensors but I know that you stink'” he mocked as he took a higher voice and imitated the sassy attitude of his AI, making quotation marks with his hands.
You laughed at the a-bit-too-accurate imitation and got up too when he offered you his hand to help you up.
"Come on, let's get you something to eat and go back home"
You were already sitting on your bathroom counter, razor in hand when Miguel came out of the shower, towel loosely hanging around his hips. 
“Sure you don’t wanna keep it?” you asked teasingly, pointing at your own face to refer to his five o’clock shadow as he walked up to you.
“No. I don’t wanna look like Peter B” he grumbled as he joined you. You huffed out a laugh and caged him with your legs, bringing him closer to you.
He let his forehead rest against your shoulder, planting his hands at either side of the counter while you brushed his wet and dripping hair back, almost shuddering as you felt the gentle scruff of his stubble against your skin when his face shifted to your neck.
“Alright” 
He tilted his head back up at you, the worn out expression over his face paining you. 
You took a hold of his face and shaved him in silence, and you didn’t blame him for the lack of conversation and clever things to say. He probably had been dealing with a lot of stuff this week, trying his best so things wouldn’t turn out to be catastrophic so he probably wanted it all to be quiet now.  
Following along his sharp and defined jawline, you shaved to the shape of his face, razor gently and thoroughly following each line, careful not to go too fast and slip and cut him. 
“I'm so tired. Working twenty-four seven didn’t give me time to realize it but now it's crushing me” he mumbled, his voice barely louder than a whisper so his movements wouldn't be too harsh and wouldn't make you slip.
“I know. It all comes crashing down one moment or another” you said with an empathetic smile, rubbing your thumb over his left cheek once you were done with that area. He responded with a small hum.
It didn't take too long for you to be over with your task, and you put the razor down by the sink before grabbing the aftershave bottle, squeezing the lotion onto your hands and gently lathering it over his face, appreciating the smell you never realized you were that used to.
"Done. All clean shaven" you declared as he put his hands at either side of your neck, smiling tiredly before slotting his lips against yours.
"Thank you" he softly smiled.
"Come on, let's get you dressed and let's get you to bed" you called as you jumped down from the counter, exiting the bathroom as he followed you to the bedroom.
“You know, at this point you could build us quarters at the spider society” you chuckled, rummaging into the closet looking for the same kind of comfortable clothes he had been wearing lately.
“Don’t tempt me, I could make that happen” he declared as he shifted from his sitting position to lay down onto the bed with a grunt. “That’s actually not a bad idea”
You hummed in reflexion. “I could look after you, make sure you’re not doing too much” you shrugged as you turned to him to throw him a pair of clean boxers.
“Forget about what I said. ‘Don’t need you to try to babysit me all the time, I already have Lyla for that” he chuckled as he let the towel down to put on the clothes you were progressively throwing at him.
“Where was she to babysit you these past few days?” you asked as you joined him and crawled onto the bed.
“Had to turn her off. You, I can’t” he teased with a small smirk plastered over his face before putting his shirt on, grunting as you pushed him back down onto the bed.
“Asshole” you playfully hit his chest, leaning down next to him. "Right, you could only turn me on." You stared at the ceiling as you waited for any type of response, a chuckle, a small laugh, a nudge, but nothing came, nothing happened. 
Your look darted to his direction, and you giggled as you watched him trying to hold back a laugh.
"That's a bad joke, for my defense I'm exhausted so it doesn't count" he shook his head, covering his eyes with his hand, desperately grunting.
"Yeah, right" you huffed out a laugh as you let your head rest over his chest. 
The tension quickly diffused, the atmosphere getting calmer and the room getting quieter as you absentmindedly let the tip of your fingers trace patterns over his chest slowly rising and falling.
"Thank you" he softly muttered, breaking the silence, tearing you out of your thoughts.
"What?" you asked, confused, your fingers stopping in their trail. 
"Thank you for dragging me out of there, out of this hole"
You paused and shifted so you could look back at him, propping your elbow next to his face, holding your chin in the palm of your hand.
"Miguel, you know I'll always have your back, right?" you rhetorically asked, your fingertips now tracing his face, all soft from the aftershave.
He nodded as his eyes darted to your face.
"Yeah. I know" he pinched his lips in a soft smile as he looked at you, fighting so his eyes could remain open. 
You mirrored his smile, leaning over so you could leave a kiss at his lips, running your fingers over the side of his face one last time.
“You can rest now. I got you”
He softly hummed before his eyes closed under the weight of the responsibilities weighing on him, a small sigh of relief leaving him as your fingers raked through his hair. 
It didn't take long for you to register he was asleep, his breath slowing down, the steady heaving of his chest and a peaceful expression over his face.
You couldn't bring yourself to move, couldn't bring yourself to leave him.
please give me feedback if you liked this, I appreciate every single comment and they motivate me to keep going!!
masterlist | taglist | ao3
spiderman 2099 taglist: @bubuslutty @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @midnight-the-shadow-wolf @cocodiem @pedropascalsidechick @spxctorsslxt @roxannarichie @vicolangelo @amb3rrz @inluvvwithme @friedwings @chaotic-neon-sign @foxglove-grove @ilovemiguelohara @pandq707 @gobblegluckgluckgod @weasleybuns @I-like-eating-leaves @doudou00125 @luxisluxurious @himesuedi @daisydark @koyukiki @tyranicalsaurusrex @violet-19999 @melaisnthere
1K notes · View notes
dmercer91 · 1 year
Text
i would, lh43
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
you and luke really like to piss each other off.
or
four times you and luke almost kiss and the one time it finally happens
this is toxicity, angst and a little fluff all rolled into one. enjoy! <3 (7.6k) this is very much not proofread
one.
you were sure luke hughes was one of life’s greatest mysteries. to put it lightly, he was sweet until he wasn’t. 
you’d warned him before the two of you started dating in your shared freshman year that you’d been through a lot.
you warned him that sometimes you needed a minute alone, that sometimes you could self-destruct, and that sometimes you lost yourself in your brain and that someone else would take over for a while
he promised you that he’d work with you, that he understood what you were explaining and that he could surely handle it. 
he promised he’d do anything he could to help you get back into your head whenever you felt out of it, that he’d keep his head on straight for the both of you so that the two of you could work through rough stages.
clearly you hadn’t prepared him well enough, or clearly he overestimated his level headedness. 
it sucked for the both of you that you still had to see each other every day, regardless of whether or not he was on the road, cause you’d be there too. 
you’d been warned by every girl in every stage of life that dating in the workplace was a horrible idea. you promised them it was hardly work, you weren't even around that much. you were wrong again.
when the two of you broke up, you opted to stay with the team as the media intern. after all, you agreed to be friends. 
that went sour quickly, because all the arguing that took place in the confines of his dorm or your sisters apartment carried onto your friendship, and consequently in the halls of yost.
the more the two of you would argue, the more you both got petty. 
today was no different, and you weren’t trying to work him up on purpose, but when the opportunity arose you took it and ran.
a trend on tiktok had started, talking about red flags. the monday question you chose was something along the lines of ‘what is your weirdest / stupidest red flag’ 
most of the players responded as you expected them to - something like mixing jams on their toast or putting hot sauce on their bagels.
you weren’t even expecting him to acknowledge you, because since the breakup, luke had avoided monday questions, as well as your camera, altogether. 
you weren't sure what had pissed him off today, or what was going through his brain when he decided he was gonna be sour right off the bat, but his response was surely something.
“my ex girlfriend is an obsessive bitch,” you covered your mouth to keep yourself from laughing. you knew he was just being an asshole for the purpose of trying to get to you, but the words truly sounded unnatural coming from his mouth.
luke figured you would delete the video and move on with your day, get back at him with some mean comment another time, but instead you decided to take it a little further than he was intending.
after practice was over, you sat in the cubby a few down from his and began to edit the videos you’d taken of the boys together, and you saved it. then, you took the new video and added the clip of luke to the end, playing on full volume and repeating itself as you pretended to adjust the beginning to the previous clip of dylan running away.
the few guys that were left in the dressing room looked at eachother, and luke was already staring you down.
the rest of the team had learned to tune the two of you out. seeing as you were friends with most of them even before you dated luke, none of them chose sides and they all believed that eventually the two of you would get tired of pissing each other off and quit it. alternately, luke would just leave for jersey and peace would be restored. 
“what? why are you looking at me like that?” you mumbled defensively, eyeing him like he was a weirdo.
“you’re putting that in the actual video?” you raised an eyebrow, smile etched onto your face like it was drawn with a sharpie. what you weren’t expecting was for luke to take a deep breath, and look away.
you continued to edit the clip, up until the remaining players had all left yost and you felt luke’s eyes burning into your skull again.
he stood up calmly, and walked over to you.
you looked up at him and stood as well, slowly backing out of the doors in the dressing room. he followed, speeding up to keep you at an arms length
“delete that, y/n, i swear to god,” you realized he was trying to corner you, and though he physically outmatched you any day of the week, he was failing spectacularly at it.
you did your best at playing keep away with the umich media phone, and backed your way into the visitors dressing room.
“delete it? fat chance. i was actually thinking i might put it up, i can never seem to get content of you unless-“ you groaned as your back hit the wall, luke holding you against it with his hips
“unless i’m too pissed to shove the phone out of my face?” you grinned, slinging your arms around his neck and leaning into his touch, your chests pressed taught to each other so you couldn’t slip from his grasp.
“you know, if i get early onset back pain, i'm blaming you. now can we quit it with the dramatics? i have a very charming video of you to edit for the tiktok page” luke just pressed you closer to the wall, ignoring the grin you gave him to show how much you’d actually been liking the closeness.
“you wouldn’t,” he tried to grab the phone from your hands, placed behind his neck, but you were quick to tuck it into your bra so he couldn’t access it.
“i would.” his jaw clenched and you kept straight eye contact, loving how irritated he was getting so quickly.
“baby,” he stated, taking a deep breath.
“i was being a dick, and i’m sorry. but we don’t need to make that a public thing,” you bit your lip, pretending like you were contemplating it before you replied to him
“we’re using baby again?” he licked his lips, grabbing your hands from his shoulders and holding them.
his eyes softened and he paused before using what was probably the sweetest tone you’d ever gotten from him
“if you want me to use baby, yes, i’ll call you whatever you like”
“i’m not falling for that,” his soft, convincing face fell flat and his eyes went from hopeful right back to angry and endlessly frustrated
after a few moments standing there waiting for him to find a new game plan, you bit your lip and started messing with a few of his curls
“you ever miss me, lukey?” he pulled his head away from your hands, the gentle aspect of your touch giving him an unneeded reminder of  the fact that you could be a sweetheart, you were just choosing not to be
“not a chance in hell” you smiled to hide the pang in your chest, but he saw through you, holding the back of your head
“you’re always right here annoying me, hm? no time to miss you” he corrected, tracing circles on your scalp with his thumb. you poked your cheek with your tongue, looking down for a quick second before ultimately looking right back into his eyes, trying to read what he was thinking
this is what you assumed he was talking about when he used to always tell you he’d figure things out, that you’d always make up after a fight - that he’d look at you like this and see that you were struggling 
that he would feel what you were feeling for even just a split second and correct himself, even if he was lying, just to cover up the ache in your chest.
this, to you, was confirmation that he could read you like that. that he can see through any mask you put up and had truly just given up on you. 
he sighed, and you saw his eyes move to your lips, then back up to your eyes. he was leaning forward, and just like that, he was pulling away and clearing his throat.
“could you please delete the video for me? m’ sorry about how i spoke to you” your entire body felt cold without him against it, and you wished whatever thought in his mind that made him want to kiss you would’ve fucked off, so the two of you could’ve stayed pressed up against each other forever.
“i’m not that mean, lu. i’ll delete it” he smiled and ruffled your hair, walking away as quickly as possible.
it bears repeating; you were sure luke hughes was one of life’s greatest mysteries.
two
your favourite part about going to michigan, as well as being close with one of the sports teams, was the parties. 
you weren’t even sure how they pulled it off, but you couldn’t think of a single time you’d been invited to a umich party and didn’t have a night worth remembering (even if you could barely remember it).
tonight was no different, and it started with mark and ethan fighting over who got to be your partner in beer pong. 
you decided it would be a best of three challenge, and the loser was stuck with luke, who was notorious for only having aim once he was plastered enough to faint. the winner got to be with you, who had the ongoing win streak among the sophomores.
first was a game of rock paper scissors, that was promptly won by ethan, seeing as mark always went rock. 
he’d even mentioned before the challenge that he always lost since he always picked rock, so you’d told him to simply not pick rock - he did it anyways.
the second round was seeing who could shotgun the fastest, which was ultimately taken by mark when ethan got cocky and gave him a three second head start.
safe to say, mark had been almost done by the time ethan even had his lips over the hole in his can.
the third challenge was a headstand contest, mostly because you just wanted to see the two of them try to uphold a headstand for more than five seconds.
mark took that one on the guise that ethan had cheated and used the wall to keep himself up. if you could have made them both lose, you would have.
however, when you decided that ethan was in fact a cheater, mark cheered and tossed you over his shoulder, leading the group of you back to the beer pong table 
ethan was pouty about having to pair up with luke, and luke was pouty about having to be around you, but you and marks energies were off the charts regardless.
you all decided that you’d have to drink ethan’s cups, mark would have to drink luke’s, and vice versa.
luke started, and sunk one ball, but completely missed the other. 
mark quickly downed the drink and took the balls, missing the first off the rim of a bottom row cup, but sinking the second one perfectly. 
luke drank nonchalantly and handed the ball from his cup to ethan, who just barely missed both of his shots. you grinned to yourself, centring yourself to the table before taking your shot.
your turn was similar to marks, but your first ball had bounced just before the cup at the top row and landed into luke’s hand.
ethan drank the cup you got for your second shot, sending you a playful glare. 
“this should be you right now, marky. nobody said we couldn’t use the wall” you rolled your eyes, feeling mark sling his arm around your shoulders 
“i won fair and square, eddy. you’re just butthurt cause you suck at shotgunning and got too cocky” luke quickly took his turn so you’d all shut up, missing horribly on both shots.
you raised an eyebrow at him, silently wondering how his on ice hand eye coordination translated this horrendously in throwing a ping pong ball 
mark got two of his shots, but none in his balls back attempt, and luke quickly drank, a little more urgently this time around. 
ethan got one this time around, and you happily drank the contents of the cup, licking the foam of the beer from your lips once you were done. 
you also sunk two balls, but you got your second shot with balls back, leaving three cups on ethan and luke’s side and eight on yours.
ethan pouted before drinking his first cup, taking a short pause before cramming the next two one after the other. 
he caught his breath before looking over at you with beer dripping from his chin 
“i should’ve made hughesy drink your cups,” you giggled, and luke slapped him on the shoulder with a glare.
when the game came back around to you, they only had two cups left, and you got them both.
mark cheered loudly, rattling you around by your shoulders as you laughed at his reaction. 
you and mark had always been close. something about his energy just gave you the sense that you’d never have to stress about him. you were very much the ‘call each other babe platonically’ type of friends. 
he was easygoing and he just wanted to have a good time, but he was still a good friend if need be.
luke apparently hadn’t caught that memo, cause he looked like he was about ready to stab his teammate.
his jaw was clenched tight and he was just watching the two of you celebrate with complete dread on his face, while ethan finished off his beer
you picked up on it right away, and decided you’d chance luke being unbelievably pissed at you if it meant he might admit to himself he still had feelings for you.
“are we playing again?” you asked, looking up at mark who shook his head, pulling you away from the table.
“what? you want to get up to something else?” he grinned, earning a soft smile and a push to his chest.
“dance with me?” he nodded, grabbing one of the remaining cups from your side and pulling you towards the group of students essentially using the living room of soph house as a make out spot.
luke wasn’t one to dance, but mark was too drunk to care and you didn’t think he’d be leaving your side anytime soon, so you took advantage
he wasn’t half bad, the two of you mostly feeding off each other rather than the music. that was until his drink ran out, and he wanted another one.
“you want a beer, babe?” you nodded softly, tilting your head up and leaning it on his shoulder.
he smiled, kissing you on the cheek and noting that he’d be right back, quickly disappearing into the swarm of bodies towards one of the coolers.
“mark? really?” it was luke.
rather than bite back, you went with it, knowing he might be more annoyed if he thought you were genuinely going out with mark
you hummed, turning to face him. “he’s a sweetheart. maybe you could learn a thing or two” both of you knew that what you were saying was utter bullshit. regardless, luke was irked.
“are we thinking of the same mark?” he slid a finger into the belt loop of your jeans and pulled you forward, keeping you close to him and simultaneously letting you know his strength.
“handsome? fluffy hair? pretty solid with his mouth?” luke scoffed, looking behind you to make sure mark wasn’t almost back.
when his eyes came back down to yours they were dark, and he was wearing a harsh glare.
“you wouldn’t. you’re not” you smiled, almost giggling at him
“yeah, but i would, though. is your new girlfriend not at this party? thought i saw her working one of the football players. is this your thing? getting one upped by other athletes? is there an embarrassment kink im not aware of?”
before you could say anything else, his hand was over your mouth and he was grumbling at you to shut up
“not that it’s any of your business, i broke up with her. you need to start watching your fucking mouth” you pulled away from his hand, but he still had a tight grip on your jaw.
“if it was full maybe i’d stop talking,” you smiled, your facial expression almost challenging him
he licked his lips, thumb swiping over yours slightly in a way that made your heart jump out of your chest
he was leaning in and pulling your face to an angle where he could connect your lips, before his eyes flashed up and he saw mark coming back with a beer in one hand and a full bottle of liquor in the other.
“maybe your sweetheart mark will be up for that” he gave your jaw a squeeze before pushing your face away from his and walking off.
you put on a smile, turning around to see mark taking a swig of straight vodka.
“my lady,” he grinned, handing you your beer
you bit the cap off, drinking some of it before you hummed, pulling him towards you by the collar and resuming your dancing, back to his chest
“gimme some of that,” he giggled, putting the bottle in his hand up to your lips and guiding you through your swig
“luke came n’ saw you?” you nodded
“yeah.”
three
one of your favourite things to do in your free time was barge into soph house with absolutely no warning.
today, it was cause you and your other roommate had been momentarily kicked out of yours and your older sister's shared apartment so she had it to herself for her one year anniversary.
you announced your arrival when you walked in, your friend trailing behind you awkwardly while the boys shouted simultaneous greetings from the living room
“i brought a friend. it’s my sister's anniversary and there’s a metaphorical sock on our door,” your comment earned you chuckles from the group, and when you walked into the living room you scanned the furniture to see if there were two open spaces.
luke had been sitting by himself, mackie and dylan were sharing the loveseat, and ethan and mark were sharing the bigger couch. 
you tilted your head and squinted at ethan, who had been taking up two and a half cushions. he grinned in return, further stretching himself out so he’d been getting into marks personal space as well.
you opted to physically drag ethan from his spot, over so he’d just been taking up one cushion instead
he glared at you playfully, fighting back against your pushing until you were stuck pushing back against each other, causing the both of you to break out into laughter and for you to fall onto the couch
“scootch, edwards,” you worked out in between giggles, finally getting him to move over and sitting up yourself so there was some room for your friend 
when she sat, it was almost on top of you, since the couch wasn’t meant for four, and you could almost sense luke’s ears perking up like a dog being offered a treat
“you know if there’s not enough room over there i’m more than happy to share” he patted his lap, looking right at your roommate with a smirk playing at his lips.
you were quick to glare at him and shut the idea down, while mark pulled you into his own lap so your friend would have enough room, and hopefully so you and luke would drop it. 
your friend adjusted and then eyed luke, and then you
“i take it that’s luke,” you immediately slapped her arm and glared at her, knowing this would give luke enough ammunition to piss you off for however long you were at sophomore house 
you couldn’t even properly find time to warn him to forget he ever heard that before it started. 
“aw, baby, you tell your friends about me?” you smiled sarcastically, feeling mark grab the back of your shirt so you didn’t lunge at his teammate
“fuck right off, warren,” luke’s jaw ticked, and he opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by dylan 
“i’ll sit on your lap, lukey!” the group laughed, and luke tried to hide his smile. 
the sophomores had become extremely accustomed to changing the subject or interrupting you and luke when the two of you fought, seeing as you were over most days of the week
now that the room had become less tense, everyone was partaking in their own conversations.
you, ethan, mark and your friend had been talking about a class the four of you shared, while mackie, dylan and luke talked about the upcoming series against minnesota.
that continued until you felt your phone go off in your back pocket and pulled it out to see a text from your sister, telling you that you could make your way back to the apartment.
below it, to your shock, was a silenced text from luke.
from, luke hughes → kitchen?
to, luke hughes → ?
you looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed and heart pounding, and he was already looking at you.
you blinked and moved your eyes away, turning your head to mark who’d been deep in concentration listening to ethan.
“hey, my sister texted, we’re gonna get going” that caught the attention of dylan and ethan, which made mackie turn his head, and, well, luke had already been staring at you.
mark frowned, caging his arms around your waist to hug you. 
“it’s still early, you can stay,” you heard a jumble of voices agreeing with mark’s statement, and you could feel luke’s gaze burning through you.
you looked down at your roommate and she shrugged, since she’d accustomed pretty well to the sophomores already and wasn’t exactly dying to leave
“i’ll stay for free beer?” luke smiled to himself and made his way to the kitchen quietly, knowing nobody would really notice him while they were cheering at your words
you offered to go get everyone their bottles and got up, ruffling marks hair slightly before you walked over to their fridge and took out six beer, luke already sipping on one.
“you ask me over here to argue without getting interrupted?” luke grinned softly, taking three of the bottles and setting them on the island along with his own, nodding for you to do the same with the other three
you complied, and as soon as they hit the counter you were being backed up into it, his hips pinning you and his arms locking you in place 
“i just wanted to talk,” he explained, looking down at you with a sweet gaze that made your stomach turn 
“you know, you could’ve had mackie or duker sit on the other couch, fuck, you could’ve even pulled up a chair from the island or sat on the ground! but you just let him pull you into his lap like you're his?”
you rolled your eyes, trying to push his arm off the counter so you could squeeze away from him and bring everyone their drinks, but his grip tightened. 
“i’m talking to you, y/n,” he added pressure with his body so he could use a hand to make you look at him.
“how many times do i have to tell you i’m not sleeping with any of your friends?” you defended and he shrugged 
“i never said you were, i just pointed out that you two seem real fucking comfortable with each other lately,”
you sighed and cupped his neck with both hands, thumbs messing with the curls that fell behind his ears
“lu, nothings happening. nothing's going to happen. im not fucking mark just like you’re not actually gonna fuck my roommate,”
he didn’t react much, just kept staring into your eyes. 
“if not my friends then who are you with?” you smiled and shook your head 
“none of your business, hughesy.” he laughed dryly and moved his hand from your jaw around to the back of your neck, your faces so close his nose was brushing against yours.
your eyes both drifted to each other's lips, and you cleared your throat and backed your head away before he could kiss you. 
he moved off you and grabbed his beer, standing on the other side of the kitchen, now.
“maybe i’ll see you around your place, y/n,” he smirked before looking over at your roommate who was laughing at something dylan had said, and heading back to the living room 
“you wouldn’t,” you yelled after him.
“i would!” he called back, leaving you to groan to yourself and pick up the beers for everyone 
four
“adam! shea!” you smiled, trying to stand up off the bench you were on to go greet your friends, but tripping over the air and immediately deciding that you would be staying on the bench.
the two boys gave each other weird looks across the street from you, deciding to make their way over.
the two boys being luca and shea, who were obviously quite confused.
once they made their way there, they came to the conclusion that you were incredibly, extremely, outstandingly drunk.
“i want whatever she’s having,” luca chuckled, knowing he and his brother did not look alike in the slightest.
seamus slapped him up the back of the head, helping you to sit up properly and then taking his own place beside you to support your torso.
“dude, shut up. call mark, or eddy, even. we don’t know how long she’d been here” you were looking up at him, absolutely delirious and telling him about your childhood pet hamster that was named casey (like him!)
mark was down at the bus stop you were all sitting at in record time, now kneeling in front of you and trying to get an answer out of you as to why you were mind-blowingly wasted at two pm on a tuesday
when you just continued to murmur about nonsense, luca spoke up
“maybe we should bring her to luke?” seamus and mark both turned their heads to him very slowly, eyebrows raised and annoyance glaringly obvious in their eyes, and he lifted his arms in defence 
“i’m just saying! notice how all of their arguing is like, ultra petty? he never says anything that actually means shit. he definitely knows what's going on with her,”
they both thought about it, ultimately coming to the conclusion that it couldn’t do anymore harm than good - luke wasn’t a big enough dick to punch down, so maybe luca was right.
they looked at each other, “this is the worst idea anyone has ever had in the entire history of the university of michigan,” shea stated, already helping you onto your feet and having luca hold you up from the other side
“yeah,” mark nodded, texting luke a very vague message so that he’d be home and in the living room once the four of you got to soph house.
when you did, it was safe to say luke really did not want to have any part of it.
“no.” he shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest while he watched you fuss with seamus when he tried to set you on the wrong couch cushion, apparently. 
“wh-” mark tried to plead his case, but couldn’t even get a word out.
“no. not a chance, mark, just have her sleep it off, or something,” the two of them watched as luca brought you a water and you tried to convince him that you did have a water, only for him to open the lid and be hit with the smell of liquor. 
“hear me out,” mark started, giving luke a hopeful look and earning a confirming eye roll in return
“your friend needs help, and-” 
“your friend”
“fine, be like that! your ex, that you’re still in love with, by the way, needs help, and you’re the only one of us that has a chance in hell at knowing what it is that made her drink away her brain on a random fucking weekday, by herself, on the street,”
the room went silent, and even you had stopped rambling upon hearing the tone mark was using.
“so, if you could please just fucking talk to her for a minute to see if she gives you an idea? something? tells you what’s up? that would be glorious, luke,” 
luke clenched his jaw but looked over at you for a quick second, caving and nodding slightly 
“i’ll talk to her. alone, though,” he grumbled, and mark patted his shoulder, nodding to luca and seamus to go over to the kitchen 
he sat next to you, and you looked up at him, bringing your knees to your chest. 
“are you okay, y/n/n?” he asked softly, tilting his head at you. you blinked, clearly on the verge of blacking out
“luke,” you stated simply, earning a sad smile from him 
“what did i tell you about drinking to forget, hm?” he reached around you, burying his hand in your hair and massaging your scalp gently 
“said no,” you replied, barely above a whisper. you were hiding from his gaze, now.
he watched you for a moment, trying to see if there was anything on you to help him out. 
his eyebrows furrowed at the sight of your phone case, the polaroid that had been in the back of it since before he knew you now flipped so you couldn’t see what it was.
“can i see that?” he asked, pointing to your phone.
you handed it to him reluctantly, watching as he peeled the case off and slid the picture out from under it.
it was a picture of you and your father. you were just a baby, and your dad had been wearing a party hat and feeding you a bite of cake 
the back read; dads 31st birthday! 02/07/04
he turned your phone around and knocked his knuckle against the screen, reading the date once it lit up
tuesday, february 7
“oh, baby. cmere,” he mumbled, pulling you into his lap gently and holding your head to his chest.
your body shook against his as you sobbed, still painfully aware of the occasion no matter how inebriated you were
he held you still until you calmed down, and when he opened up the shield he’d made with his arms he found that you were sound asleep against him, face beet red and soaked with tears
he adjusted you slowly, lifting your arms around his shoulders so he could carry you without waking you up.
he looked over to mark who nodded with an appreciative smile, then carefully carried you upstairs and towards his room.
he set you down and took off your shoes, then grabbed a water bottle and some medicine for you, setting them down and slipping into bed next to you. 
you found your way to his chest and slept peacefully while he zoned out, brushing his hand through your hair soothingly.
when you did wake up, it was slowly and difficultly. it had been a few hours, your mouth felt dry and your head felt heavy.
you felt dizzy, but not from the hangover. from luke, holding you close to him.
you let out a noise of confusion, and luke stiffened, looking down at you.
rather than pay mind to the millions of emotions coursing through him, he decided to focus on sitting you up and getting you to drink some water.
you just listened, waiting to ask what the hell had happened until after you were feeling a little less undead.
“uh, luca and shea found you by one of the bus stops. you called luca adam, so they came up to you, n called mark” you looked down, tears brimming your eyes.
“oh.. okay,” you whispered, fidgeting with your own fingers awkwardly.
he gave you a minute to compose yourself before setting the polaroid on your lap 
“he would’ve been fifty today,” he stated softly, looking at where your eyes would have been had you been facing him.
you wiped your face roughly, groaning to yourself while luke silently begged you to look at him
“maybe we can take a little trip to go see him, yeah? i’ll stop at the store and we can get him a card n’ some flowers,” he offered, rubbing your upper back soothingly 
“you’d do that for me?”
“i would. or i can explain everything to mark, and he can take you, if you wanted?” you shook your head quickly 
“no. no, uh,” you sniffled, taking the water he’d gotten you from his night stand and sipping carefully from it 
“the whole reason i like being around him so much is that he doesn’t know everything, and he doesn’t need to know everything,” you explained, finally looking up at him with glossy eyes and a red nose
“i can zone out for a minute and he won’t ask me if i’m okay, he’ll just slap the back of my head and tell me i need a nap,” you chuckled 
you’d made it a point to keep the shitty aspects of your life away from mark. 
he knew you’d been through a lot, but he didn’t know any details and he never asked about it, respecting your boundaries 
“it’s easy around him, you know?” luke nodded slightly, a questioning look in his eyes 
“i wish it could’ve been that simple with you, but there are things that cant be kept from a partner the way they can from a friend, it’s different,” 
the two of you sat in silence for a minute, luke having opened the bottle of ibuprofen for you and handing you two to take 
once you sipped away the weird feeling in your throat with water, you gave him a hopeful look
“are you still up to take me?” he smiled sadly and nodded, slowly moving from his bed and over to his closet.
“here,” he handed you a hoodie and his varsity jacket, nodding in a way that told you to put them on. 
you stood carefully and put the sweater on, overwhelmed by the smell of him lingering on the collar 
the jacket was both too big on you but a perfect fit, the bottom landing a little above your knees and the sleeves covering up to the tips of your fingers 
you put your shoes back on and gave him a look before going over to the bathroom, scanning the counter until you found something that could suffice as a face wash 
you pulled your sleeves up and washed the mascara from your cheeks, then grabbed a clean towel to pat your face dry.
you went to go cup your hands under the cool water to drink before some mouthwash, but you spotted the toothbrush you kept here while you’d been dating luke in his corner of things 
your lips parted and you blinked, almost thinking it would go away once you opened your eyes again. 
when it didn’t, you took the cover off the top of it to find it in the same condition you left it, so you rinsed it well before using it. 
luke walked out of his shared room, now in a hoodie of his own, and froze when he saw you
you avoided his eyes, pulling your hair from your face while you spat out the toothpaste and then rinsed your mouth with water. 
you pulled your sleeves back down and walked over to where he was waiting on the stairs, flicking the light off and keeping your head down 
“i, uh, just kept forgetting to toss it,” he cleared his throat, eyes flashing over to you and quickly moving away
you just nodded, making your way down the stairs and seeing the three boys who had brought you home playing video games on the couch
shea was the first to notice you, smiling to himself at the sight of you drowning in luke’s clothes.
he nudged marks knee with his own to grab his attention, nodding over to you and luke who’d been awkwardly standing there
mark looked up and grinned at you, setting his controller down and getting up to trap you in a bear hug
“how’s the head, dumbass,” you smiled bashfully, resting your face against his chest and hugging him back 
“throbbing. thanks for coming to get me,” he hummed in response, ruffling your hair and moving away from you 
“you’re bringing her home?” mark asked, eyes directed at luke
he looked at you and you answered for him
“we’re going on a little road trip. be back in a few hours,” mark tried his best not to let glee take over his face too obviously.
he sent luke a knowing look, a callback to their earlier conversation where mark had outright exposed him for still being in love with you
you smiled and waved to shea and luca, who returned the favour, luca yelling after you as you walked away with a “you kids have fun! wear protection!” which earned him a slap on the head from seamus. 
the drive to the grocery store was quiet, luke’s bluetooth playing quietly through the speakers of his car and you humming along to some of the songs you knew.
the two of you opted to grab something to eat from the deli as well, and luke offered to pay for both the meals and the card and flowers you’d gotten for your dad.
you were reluctant, but he had blocked you away from the debit machine when it was presented to you, so you settled for slipping a twenty into the pocket of his jacket so he’d get it whenever you took it off and gave it back.
you weren’t opposed to the silence, but sharing it with luke did make it a little more uncomfortable than it should’ve been.
you were dreadfully aware that the two of you did need to have a good talk, and work out whatever it was that had torn your friendship to bits after the breakup, but maybe that's better off happening later on.
when he pulled into the parking lot at the cemetery your dad had been buried at, you looked over at him before getting out
“thank you for doing this for me, lu,” he nodded sweetly, mumbling a soft “of course, baby,” in response
your heart fluttered at his tone, as well as the genuine use of ‘baby’, and you gave him a close-lipped smile before opening the door to his car and grabbing your things, waiting for him to get out with you.
the two of you walked to your dads headstone, sitting on the grass by it and laying the flowers and the card.
“if you want a minute by yourself, i can-” you grabbed his hand before he could move to stand up, shaking your head and looking up at him with teary eyes 
“just, stay,” you breathed out, and he nodded, wrapping his free arm around you and squeezing the hand that he’d been holding 
you cried silently, staring at the stone with tears streaming down your face, leaving lines of red from the irritated skin.
you felt luke start to gently brush his thumb along your knuckles, and you grimaced to yourself, looking down into your lap to try and keep yourself together 
luke frowned, pulling you into his lap and cradling your head, one hand still holding yours 
you took a deep breath, torso shaking as you squeezed his hand like you’d been getting your first tattoo.
when you looked up at him, you saw the luke you knew at the beginning of your relationship, and not the one you constantly bickered with. 
he pushed his nose next to yours, lips nearly brushing against each others, but he waited for you to initiate it. 
instead, you pulled away and tried to move away from his hug, heart aching in your chest and guilt taking over your head 
“i’m sorry,” you whispered, opting to lean your head into his neck since he hadn’t loosened his grip. 
“no, it’s.. it’s okay, y/n,” he sounded unsure, but the words eased your mind nonetheless 
“i can’t go through what we did again, i can’t keep going in that circle, luke, we suck for each other,” you explained, pulling your hand from his and beginning to mess with the sleeves of his jacket 
“i can be better at that, y/n/n, i want to help,” you shook your head, finally managing to move off him 
“you said that last time, and you lied. i don’t blame you, luke, i was shitty too. but i think we’re better off as friends,”
he pursed his lips, nodding. he knew you were right. 
+ one
“have you ever been to an nhl game before?” ellen asked, getting soup ready for quinn, who was recovering on the couch. 
“uh, no, and i hardly had time to pay attention to any of the wolverines games, i was always editing,” you chuckled awkwardly, knowing your knowledge of crowds at sporting events was very limited and you’d likely be caught sitting with jim looking incredibly confused. 
you knew you would feel out of place, especially at a playoff game. 
luke wasn't even aware that you were in new jersey, let alone that you’d be in attendance to his first playoff game.
you had finals and things to do for the team’s media page during his first nhl games, and though you weren’t dating, you knew he wanted you there for them due to the devils jersey he had sent you after he signed his contract.
not only did you still have things to do in ann arbor, but you definitely could not afford a place to stay or plane tickets to new jersey.
then, ellen had messaged you with the news that she’d be stuck babying quinn for the next while, and offered you her ticket to the game along with help for your plane tickets.
truly, it was the least she could do, as her son hadn’t shut up about you since the moment she got to newark, and she could no longer stand hearing him complain about how much he missed you, only to correct everyone when they referred to you as his girlfriend.
the game could not have been anymore hectic. it ended 8-4 devils, but with four combined short handed goals, the canes rookie goalie being subbed in, and luke getting two points.
the rock was loud, but the energy felt less overwhelming over time and you got used to the cheers and yelling eventually.
you went with jim to wait for jack and luke, neither of which were expecting you.
jack came out first, and completely neglected his father as he greeted you with a hug, asking how you’d been and when you got to town.
you were still hugging when luke made his way out, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of a pair of arms around his brother’s waist.
when he got close enough to see that it was you, you were promptly pulled away from jack and lifted into luke’s arms, feet a few inches off the ground from how tightly he’d been hugging onto you.
“oh, jesus. hi, lukey,” you giggled, squeezing him back just as tight. you hadn’t been wearing the jersey, knowing the broadcasts had a tendency to pan to jim up in the stands and not wanting to make a big deal out of it
“how long have you been in jersey? how did you get here? where did you get the ticket, y/n, what the fuck” he rambled, a big smile etched onto his face during the whole ordeal.
he set you down but kept his arms around you, rocking the two of you back and forth while his older brother and dad watched in amusement.
your face went completely serious, and you tried to keep it that way as you spoke “oh, well, i came down to help with quinn after his tonsils and your mom offered me her ticket,” luke shook his head, ruffling your hair and holding your head to his chest 
“i hate you,” he mumbled as you laughed against him.
“no, you don’t” you pulled back a few inches, grabbing his wrist and leading him to the exit jack and jim had already started making their way to.
“no, i don’t,” he pulled back on your wrist, bringing you back into his chest so the two of you were looking at each other.
he lowered his face and kissed you, and for how long overdue it was, he was very tame.
it was gentle, and slow, and he’d been gliding his hands up and down your hips soothingly. your hands came up behind his neck to mess with the hair at its nape and you pulled away for air, but went right back in.
when the two of you finally pulled away completely, luke was blushing madly and you were hiding away in his neck.
“that’s.. certainly one way to prove it,” you breathed out, chuckling slightly.
“can i prove it some more on the way home?” he raised an eyebrow, tilting your head back up to face him.
“with your brother driving us? you wouldn’t,” he grinned, shaking his head.
“i would. you underestimate how long i’ve been waiting for that,”
2K notes · View notes
sweatervest-obsessed · 7 months
Note
Okay, Spencer comforting reader who has really bad period cramps and is just crying
yes.
WC: 466
"Spencer, love, please just shut up."
Spencer, who was in a supermarket, trying to deduce the type of chocolate you wanted, paused.
"Just get me something sweet. Spence, and Ibuprofen. Extra Strength."
"Extra Strength." He repeated back to you, and you could hear the crinkling of whatever candy wrapper he had picked up.
"I'll see you when you get home." You whispered, muttering a 'love you' in response to his, and hung up.
It was one of those periods that crippled you. The cramps were dialed to eleven, and nothing was helping you. You had run out of Ibuprofen while Spencer was at work, so it was now on your FBI Agent in shining armor to grab you some on his way home from work.
Another sharp pain stabbed through your abdomen and you let out a low grown. Something about these were just extra 'special'. Your heating pad was either too hot, or not warm enough, and the same went for the hot water bottle. The bed was never the right temperature, but the blankets weren't the right texture.
And don't event think about food. You ate three bites of a bagel before vomiting it up in the toilet and lying down for the rest of the day. The thought of food made you nauseous too.
Suddenly, it was just too much, and tears sprang to your eyes. "Fuck fuck fuck." You mumbled, letting the tears drip down your cheeks, leaving trails of shine in their wake.
This was a double edged sword--once you started, you couldn't stop. The crying was clearing up the migraine you had gained from the lack of eating and cramps, but the act of sobbing was too much for your body, causing your cramps to get worse.
When Spencer had finally gotten home, you had all but given up. You body was curled tightly into a ball, and your face was glistening with tears.
"Ohh sweetheart." Spencer whispered, setting the bag down on the edge of the bed and pulling out the bottle of Ibeprofen.
He handed some pills to you, which lead to you dry-swallowing them. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
"That bad huh." He joked, laying down next to you, pulling you into his side, and slowly running his hand through your hair. He started whispering nothing and everything to you, trying to lull you to sleep by just being there.
And you could lie saying that it didn't distract you, but it did, and you were asleep within the next five minutes.
871 notes · View notes
wynnyfryd · 2 months
Text
Trailer park Steve AU pt 56
part 1 | part 55 | ao3
March
"Steve, honey," Claudia calls from the living room, where he can hear her shuffling around to get her things ready for work — the rustle of a jacket, the clink of keys against her thermos. "Do you need anything before you go?"
"I'm fine, Ma!" Steve answers.
And he is. He is fine. It’s been three weeks, and Steve is fine! He has a date tonight with a girl he doesn’t care about, and he's gonna cheer on Lucas at the championship game, and the other day at work he got a fifty cent per hour raise. And sure, his nightmares are worse than ever and his head aches all the time, and he’s had some weirdly persistent sinus infection or some shit going on, but he only teared up once this week while jerking off to thoughts of Eddie, so.
All in all, not bad.
He shoves a plain bagel in his mouth and rushes to leave the house; passes Claudia on the way out, who's now rapping her knuckles impatiently against Dustin’s door and asking, “Dusty, what’s going on in there? You’re gonna be late!" to which Dustin replies with a panicked shriek: “DON’T COME IN, I’M NAKED!”
Jesus Christ. "Deafen my other ear, why don't you?" Steve mutters under his breath.
He throws Ma a parting wave and heads out to pick up Robin so he can take her to school before his shift starts. She looks nicer than usual, and she won’t stop reapplying her mascara, and by the time Object of My Desire starts playing on the radio Steve is practically begging her to just suck it up and end this will-they-won’t-they thing with Vickie because it’s been months of obvious flirting and Robin still won’t make a move.
“I listen to you, and now look at me!” he argues, as if the handful of pointless dates he’s used to distract himself from Eddie are anything to look at. “Boom. Back in business.“
“Mm,” she objects, a little ‘you’re so full of shit’ frown on her face. “Not the same thing.”
Don’t say it, you bitch, don’t even—
“You ask out a girl and she says no…”
Oh, thank fuck. Steve sags in relief and licks the corner of his mouth as he listens to her rant, grateful that she’s just working the small town homophobia angle and very graciously not pointing out how half-hearted and sad his attempts to move on with his life have been. It’s a small mercy he repays by rambling about girls and boobies and girls who definitely like boobies until she scowls so hard at him that she smudges her mascara and has to apply another coat.
Dustin calls the store some time around lunch. Asks if Steve wants to sub in for Lucas at tonight’s Hellfire campaign, which, first of all, fuck you — he’s been helping Lucas practice for months now, he’s not about to miss this game — and secondly:
“What, to hang out with you and Eddie the Freak Munson?” he asks, idly playing with a slinky. “Uh, yeah. I’ll pass.”
"Dude."
"What?"
"You can’t just call him names because you’re pissed at him! That’s not cool!”
Steve rolls his eyes and tugs the slinky so hard it flops off the counter’s edge.
“Look,” Dustin says, his voice dipping into that low and slow and trustworthy thing that makes Steve want to snap the kid’s non-existent collarbones. “I know you won’t tell me what happened, but whatever it was, he’s sorry, okay? He’s really, really sorry. And he asks me about you, like, every day; if I didn’t know any better I’d swear he was in love with you or something.” Steve chokes on his own spit, and Dustin just keeps going; steps right over Steve’s corpse to continue his impassioned plea. “Besides, friends forgive each other! Right, Steve?”
Goddammit. Steve really regrets saying those exact words in that exact order the last time Lucas and Dustin had a fight. “Man, you can’t just use my own brotherly advice against me.”
“I can, and I will.” Wow. What a little shit. “Seriously, dude, come on! How many times do I have to pass on his apology messages before you just talk to him?”
How many times? How many times?
Steve doesn’t know.
He just knows he’s not ready; knows that as soon as he talks to Eddie, it’ll make it all real. It’ll be over for good. Whatever words they exchange next will get etched into the headstone of the thing they briefly had. He opens his mouth to say something, to try and make sense of the vortex in his head, but all he gets for the effort is a fresh migraine coming on.
He’s saved from answering by the doorbell’s chime. “I got some customers,” he says over Dustin's squawk of protest. “Gotta call you back, bye.”
part 57
tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)
324 notes · View notes
nicestgirlonline · 1 year
Text
dumb dumb
Tumblr media
Pairing: Bucky x Dumbass!Reader
Warnings: none! lots of fluff ahead!!! 
Summary: Everyone can see the huge crush Bucky has on you...everyone except you of course.
Word Count: 3.7k and counting because I truly am incapable of being brief
A/N: This is for week one’s writer activity for  @the-slumberparty  the I Spy Challenge! I included all three of the items they shouldn’t be too hard to spot! I hope you enjoy it! Unbetaed, forgive me! Feedback is always appreciated :)
Update 2/17: You guys asked and now there's a Part 2
Typically it was Team Cap that were the first people awake in the Avengers Compound. Steve, Sam and Bucky were still on a soldier's schedule, usually getting up at 5 to work out before getting breakfast. 
So it was a bit of a surprise when they entered the kitchen to see the coffee was already brewed and you were helping yourself to a bowl of cornflakes. You were a Stark Industries biochemical engineer and judging  from your lopsided ponytail and your rumpled clothes, you had ended up sleeping in the lab. Again. Steve checked his watch, it was barely past 6. 
“Good morning! Another late night?” Steve asked.
“Morning Cap! Yeah, the thing about stomach acid is it's so fascinating I lost track of my time while studying it.” You cover your mouth to hide a yawn.  
“I think maybe only you think that.” Sam said, making you giggle a bit. Bucky entered the kitchen slightly later than the other two. His hair was damp and he had a towel wrapped around his neck, freshly showered. Steve definitely noticed that Bucky had started to insist on showering before breakfast right after the first time they discovered Y/N in the kitchen. 
“Good morning Bucky!” You greeted, internally cringing at how loud you were. He was taken aback each time he saw her in the morning. The usually coordinated assassin bumped into the side of the breakfast bar with his hip and winced. 
“Morning.” he mumbled and gave a little wave before immediately heading to get some coffee, walking off the bump. Sam and Steve both glanced at each other. 
“You should kick Bucky’s ass, it’s his samples keeping you up at night,” Sam joked. You blushed and filled your mouth with more cornflakes. You’d specifically been studying well, all of Bucky? The effects of Dr. Erskine’s serum on his body mixed with the cryosleep and the other HYDRA experiments was a vast array of knowledge to tap into.
“It's not his fault I’m bad at time management. I really should stop doing this though. I'm sure my apartment misses me.” You say quickly as Bucky silently fixes himself breakfast. He pulls out the bagels and cream cheese with a bit more anger than usual. He sent Sam a glare but didn’t say anything. 
“Well if you’re here less, we’ll start missing you, won’t we Buck?” Steve asked. Both of them knew about Bucky’s soft spot for the scientist, too bad he didn’t seem like he was ever going to do anything about it. 
Bucky didn’t really answer, just sort of muttered something. You tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear trying to hide a blush.
“I'm sure Bucky won’t miss me. He’s gotten enough of me poking and prodding him.” You said hoping it came off as a light joke. While Bucky had been very willing to provide all of the samples you’d asked for, you secretly were starting to feel like you were no better than HYDRA in his eyes…
“And stealing my blood for science?” Bucky asked, his tone still grim. “‘S’not so bad when you do it.” He gave a small smile that he hid behind a sip of coffee. Steve remained quiet a moment, hoping either of you would make a move but both of you stayed blushing and looking in other directions. 
“Say, I was wondering to get your opinion on something. If there was a fella who was trying to get something nice for a lady friend, are flowers too old fashioned?”
“A lady friend? Steve, are you dating someone?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny. But humor a hundred year old guy for a second here. If someone were trying to catch the eye of a modern woman such as yourself, would he have to buy you flowers, chocolates, diamond necklace?” He asked. You thought about it for a moment tapping your chin. 
“Gosh, not diamonds for me! I can’t wear any jewelry in the lab. I think flowers are nice! Everyone likes getting flowers sometimes. Maybe I should get some flowers for the whole lab, with Valentine's Day coming up and all.”  
Bucky smiled to himself. You were just the sweetest person he’d ever met. Always thinking about others. Steve of course caught the face and Bucky quickly turned away, trying to go back to neutral. It was such a stupid little crush, nothing more. 
x
You felt like your back might snap in half, that lab cot was really not optimal. You’d ended up staying in the lab past midnight and at that point it was easier to just crash than bother driving home.  You’d had to redo nearly all of your samples from yesterday, after your acid experiment melted nearly all the pipettes in the lab. You were probably going to have to get some more cheek swabs from Bucky too. 
You bit your lip. It was nice to have him in the lab so much. He didn’t talk a lot but he was always awfully sweet when he did. He also didn’t seem to mind your science babble. It was safe to say you’d developed a bit of a crush over the past few months. Too bad there was absolutely no way he felt the same way about you. He was a gorgeous Avengers for chrissake, he wasn’t going to date a dorky scientist who was studying the acid in his stomach. 
Speaking of the devil, when you got up to stretch a bit you were taken back by a face full of flowers, you leaped back in surprise. 
Bucky, wearing his sweatsuit like he had just gotten back from a run, was carrying a huge bouquet of pink and purple flowers. His face as usual was unreadable. You placed your hand on your now racing heart. 
“Bucky! I didn’t hear you come in!” You said as you regained your footing. 
“Uh sorry about that. Kind of a habit. Assassin.” He said with a shrug. The two of you stood in silence with the beautiful flowers separating you. Both of you  taking in the other. 
Can’t believe he looks so handsome while I’m sitting here looking like an absolute wreck
Can’t believe she looks so cute in the mornings while I’m in here looking like a creep. 
“These are beautiful!” You gesture to the flowers snapping the two of you back to reality. He half smiled and took a deep breath, ready for the little speech he'd prepared to go along with the ridiculous bouquet. 
“Yeah uh, I was just thinking about what you and Steve were talking about yesterday, with Valentine’s Day and all—“ He began. 
“It’s so nice that you got these for the lab!” You cried out taking them from his hands. Yesterday you had mentioned getting flowers for the whole lab, that must be what Bucky was referencing. 
“I…did. I did get these for the lab.” He said the smile now disappearing and back to his usual grumpy/ neutral expression. Some people found it a bit off putting but you had grown accustomed to it. 
“The techs are gonna flip, an avenger bringing us flowers! This is gonna brighten up the break room.” You squealed happily. It broke your heart a little, secretly hoping they had been for you. The gesture was really appreciated. Maybe he really didn’t mind all of your little experiments so much!
“I’m glad you like them.” He said. He sounded genuine but he looked so sad. You quirked your eyebrows, hoping that you’d be able to cheer him up if he stayed.  “Yeah so I’m gonna go now.” 
He quickly turned his hands in his pockets. 
“Oh you can stay—” You called after him but he was basically out the door. 
 “I’ve got to go on a run.” he called back.
“Oh.” you said to yourself as the door shut behind him. You clearly had been wrong, no way did Bucky like you at all. 
X
“Hey there I got a huge bunch of flowers for the lab. Because I think the lab is beautiful. And the lab is smart and funny. I really like talking to the lab even though I have no idea what the fuck to even say half the time.” 
“Talking to yourself again?” Steve asked, finally catching up with Bucky who had taken off at a mad man’s pace. 
“Eavesdropping again punk?”
“Flowers didn’t go over too well? I take it?”
“Not talking about it.” Bucky said picking up speed. Steve easily matched his pace, refusing to let his friend get away. 
“Maybe you should just ask her out. You used to be pretty good at that. Being charming.” Steve suggested. Bucky picked up speed again and Steve followed, the two of them now pushing hard. Nearly too hard for conversation. 
“Will you drop it?” Bucky grunted. There was no way she liked him. Why would she anyway? She was a beautiful, brilliant scientist and he was the grumpy old meanie avenger. 
“Just trying to help.” Now Steve was pissed, he pushed harder trying to pass his best friend. 
“Stay out of it.”  The two super soldiers ran on, lapping poor Sam a shameful amount of times. 
Used to be charming. Used to be? Bucky scoffed. He’d show them. He was present day charming. 
X
You really needed to work on your time management, you checked your watch and it was already 3 o clock and you hadn’t even had lunch yet. You were out of lab snacks too, so you decided to break for a quick lunch. 
You assumed you’d be in the kitchen on your own but entered to see Bucky with a cup of instant noodles. He was mid slurp when you waved hello. You went straight to the pantry to grab the basics for a PBJ. You could hear lots of coughing as you turned. 
“You’re not choking right? Do you need the heimlich?” You asked only half jokingly. You’d certainly do whatever you could to help him.
You turned back and Bucky was a bit red in the face but breathing normally again. 
“No. S’fine. Went down the wrong pipe.” He grumbled waving his hand as you went back to your sandwich.  
“Everyone loves the flowers. By the way, really made our week.” You took a seat across from him. Bucky straightened up a big and cleared his throat for the final time. 
“Glad to hear it.” He smiled. You smiled back. 
There was a beat of silence. You looked down at your food, then back to Bucky only to discover he had done the same. You were looking into each other's eyes. 
“It was really so thoughtful.” You hoped you didn’t sound as breathless as you felt. 
“Well I was thinking of you when I saw them.” He said softly. Your heart soared. That was the sort of softness that you only heard from him in a few special moments. 
“Tony is having a screening of The Princess Bride. For Valentine's Day. As a treat to the company. Great movie, if you haven’t seen it.” You said very quickly. Not sure what was compelling you to tell him about it. It was one of your favorite movies and you were really excited to go to the screening until another scientist in your lab had asked you if you were bringing a date. It hadn’t occurred to you that the romance movie screening on Valentine's Day was going to be a mostly couples event. 
“I haven’t.” Bucky said. You were about to suggest he check it out when he continued “We should go. Together.” 
“Ok! Yeah! Yes we should go! Wow, that will be so much fun!” You could hardly believe it! Had your gambit worked? Subtly bringing up the movie with the hopes he’d come with you? 
“Uh cool, should I uh pick you up at the lab?” He seemed just as excited as you. You don’t think you’d ever seen him so smiley actually. 
“Yeah, I’ll have to bring my duffle bag so I have a change of clothes. I have this dress that looks like Buttercup’s — she’s a character in the movie. I should have more clothes here anyway. I hate my work clothes. And maybe a blanket too since the screening room is always so cold. We could bring snacks even though they’re usually provided. That might be overdoing it. ” You had started to ramble while Bucky rested his chin on his hand, contently listening. 
“You’re not planning on sleeping in the lab again are you?” He asked, concerned. 
“Well, I want to watch the movie and it's a bit silly to drive all the way home when I'm tired.” You said with a shrug. You really should stop sleeping at the lab so much, it seemed like you were starting to get a reputation. 
“Very true, you should not be driving while sleepy. But uh we could go to my place afterwards. It’s a much nicer commute. Probably a bit more comfortable than the lab.” He offered. 
“But Bucky, where would you sleep?” You asked, cocking your head to the side. The avengers apartments were nice but you were certain he didn’t have a guest bedroom. 
“I’ll take the floor. It’s actually not an issue.” 
“Bucky Barnes, I am not kicking you out of your own bed. No way. End of discussion.” You put your foot down. He let out a sigh looking up at the ceiling lights and then back to you. His whole demeanor changed 
“Well. I was trying to be a gentleman here but it is a pretty big bed. We probably could both fit. Since it seems like there are no other options. ”  He practically purred at you. You blinked, taken aback. You couldn’t remember a time where he had seemed more charming to you! But no, that couldn’t be right. Bucky Barnes was not actually offering to cuddle up with you on Valentine’s Day. This was you misreading the situation with him as usual. 
“Oh. You mean that as friends right?” You asked. Bucky looked pained and sucked his teeth for a moment. 
“Totally. As friends.”
X
“So let me get this straight. You are going to be going to see the romance movie The Princess Bride together. On Valentines day. As friends. Then you are going back to his apartment. Where you’ve planned on sharing his bed. As friends.”Nat asked.  You sat across from Nat on the long L shaped couch in the TV room. You were a little surprised with how well you had ended up getting along with all the Avengers since you got hired for the lab. Nat and Bucky especially were famously unfriendly to newbies and yet, you seemed to click with them faster than anyone. 
“Exactly. What's so hard to get about that?” You gave a shrug and sipped some more of your afternoon coffee.  She let out a groan and massaged her temples. 
“Are you dumb? Like has this whole brilliant scientist thing been like an Elizabeth Holmes scam? Geez Einstein, Bucky is head over heels for you and you spend all of your time thinking about smooching his stupid grumpy little face!” She cried and you winced. You only thought about smooching sometimes.
“His face isn’t stupid.” You muttered and Natasha rolled her eyes so hard you feared they may get stuck. “And he doesn’t like me like that.”
“Why would he ask you out to a movie? Then offer his place afterwards, if not because he’s totally into you!” 
“I asked him if he meant as friends then he said yes he meant as friends.” You cried back. She let out an exasperated sigh. 
“Honestly at this point, I think I may have to hang up my wing woman hat. Can’t get you a date, can’t get Steve a date, I’ve lost my touch.”  She groaned. 
“Doesn’t Steve have someone he’s seeing?” You asked. 
“Uh absolutely not. No way he could keep that from me. Unless you have some intel I don’t know about.”
“He was asking me all these questions a few weeks ago. About getting a girl flowers to show you’re interested in her.” You explained. Why would he bring that up if not for the girl he’s dating? She nodded along knowingly. 
“Quick question, was Bucky also there by chance?” She asked, her wry smirk returning to her face. 
“Yeah he was…how did you know that?”
“And was this before or after Bucky showed up with flowers for ‘the lab’ ?” She asked using finger quotes around the lab. The gears in your head usually reserved for science and math started to turn. “Please, I’m begging you. Use that big powerful brain that’s supposedly between your ears.” 
You trusted Nat, she was much better at reading people than you were. Could she be right? You hoped she was right. 
X
You had changed into your flowy blue dress, you had always thought it looked a bit like Princess Buttercup's wedding dress with its long sleeves and high cinched waist. You took your hair out of its usual ponytail and let it tumble down your shoulders. This was a date. You told yourself. This was a date, Bucky was taking you out on a date. 
It didn’t seem real. How could it be? You had crushes all the time but they never actually liked you back, that just wasn’t how life worked out. But Natasha could read people like no one you’d ever known before. Could she be wrong?
Bucky showed up at the lab door, lightly knocking on the door frame as he let himself in. He was wearing a black dress shirt with black dress pants. The black on black was his usual MO but god did he look so handsome in it. He had stayed his hair a bit too, you could see the gel he had combed in to keep it neat. 
“Hey are you ready for the mo-” you cut him off by pressing your lips to his. The two of you stayed frozen for a minute neither sure what to do. 
He pulled you away looking confused. Oh fuck I just sexually harrassed an avenger oh god I’m fired, I’m dead, Bucky is never going to speak to me again!
“What are you doing?” He whispered, his hands on your shoulders keeping you at a distance. 
“I’m so sorry! God I knew Nat was wrong, I’m sorry I’m sorry, I just thought that maybe…god I’m so dumb.” You started to blubber, humiliated. You wanted to melt into the floor. 
“Hey, hey slow down. Now I’m really mixed up here, you said we should go as friends and now you’re kissing me. Can you just tell me what’s going on?” He asked, his voice very measured, his face unreadable. 
You took a deep breath. 
“I like you. I like you a lot. And I always thought that…there’s no way you liked me back. I wished the flowers you brought to the lab were for me but of course they weren’t and I hoped we were going to the movie as a date but of course we aren’t. Nat said she thought you liked me back but I should have never listened to her. I’m sorry.” You covered your face and turned away. You couldn't believe you’d messed this up so bad. 
“You keep apologizing but I’m not exactly complaining here.”  He said his voice low. 
“Huh?”
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to let you know, but every time I tried  it didn’t seem like you were interested in me!” He cried out. You just blinked at him, dumbfounded. 
“Why would you be into me, you're like the savior of the galaxy and I’m a nerd who practically lives in her lab.”
“Why would you be into me, you're a beautiful brilliant scientist  and I'm just some grumpy dope that’s also a  pardoned war criminal?”
You couldn’t take it anymore, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him again. Bye god this was the second time you kissed Bucky today! Only this time when your lips met he eagerly returned the kiss. His soft lips moving feverishly against yours. His hands went to your hips and you tried not to let out a gasp as he pulled you flush against his body.  
“Wait, wait, are we going to miss the movie?” He asked you with such genuine sincerity you wanted to scream. How was he so cute?
“We can catch it another time.”
X
The two of you, barely able to keep yourself off each other, somehow managed to get in an elevator, go up all the way to Bucky's floor and get into his apartment. All while still remaining lip locked in a daze. 
He was kissing you silly, you almost felt drunk. With a bit of a flourish he tossed you on to the bed (which was quite big, easily room for the two of you like he had said). 
“Uh Bucky, what are these for?” You held up the leather cuffs that were chained across the back of the bed. He frowned, suddenly panicking. 
“I was going to move those, I’m sorry you had to see that. I just, I get nightmares sometimes and it um, it helps to chain myself to the bed so I don't um hurt myself. I’m on meds now and I never need to use them anymore.” He was rambling, quickly trying to sooth the situation. 
“Oh.”
“Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. I know I’m a whole lot of baggage on top of baggage. I really am totally fine sleeping on the floor if that makes you feel safer or--”
“Don’t say that about yourself. You’re the smartest woman I know. ” He insisted. He sat back down on the bed. He took you in his arms. You pecked him lightly on his lips.
“I just…I thought maybe these were going to be for me.” You fluttered your eyelashes as
Bucky's eyes grew wide. He cleared his throat.
“They can be. They absolutely can be.”
3K notes · View notes
bellasprettywords · 8 days
Text
Parallel Parking (Spencer Reid x Reader)
a/n: When Olivia Rodrigo said "I can't even parallel park" lives were changed. I saw this really cute video and I couldn't help myself
y/n – your name
Warnings: Use of the word "shit", and I can't parallel park, so this would be a dream scenario for me
Word count: 940
My Masterlist
Tumblr media
Part of your daily routine included getting to work at least with 20 minutes of anticipation in order to find a good parking space; but today your alarm didn’t go off on time, your heater broke down, and you were completely out of bagels and cereal, so naturally, your morning wasn’t going great, and you were afraid you’d come into work late.
The clock on the dashboard of your car signaled 7:50 am as you were pulling up to the parking lot, which meant you were still on time for work, but definitely the good parking spots were going to be taken.
“Shit, shit shit” you muttered under your breath as you were finishing your third lap through the parking lot, when suddenly, you heard someone call your name. You turned your head and you could see Doctor Spencer Reid waving his arm up as if he was calling you. Shit you knew Spencer because you were coworkers at the BAU, but you couldn't say you were friends, merely acquaintances, as you’ve joined the team while he was away in prison and the times you’d spent together were awkward, but polite to say the least. You slowly drove towards the Doctor, who now seemed a little exasperated, as instead of turning the car around, you decided to give another lap through the parking lot.
“Good morning Doctor Reid” you said rolling down your window with a smile that was trying to cover up the fact that you were starving, he made you nervous and if you couldn’t park in the next five minutes, you’d be late for the briefing
“Is it really a good morning? You’ve been driving through this parking lot for at least 10 minutes” he said looking impatiently at the watch resting on his wrist
“I… I… It has been kind of a rough morning, but everything’s fine, I’ll be up there for the briefing in a couple of minutes” you said trying to sound confident even when you were almost certain you’d have to find parking somewhere outside the FBI Academy
“Just park over there, and let’s go” Spencer said pointing to a free parking space where you’d have to parallel park
“Oh… sure… just…” you stuttered unable to find the words to properly communicate that you couldn't parallel park, without sounding like a child
“What is it? You don’t know how to parallel park?” Spencer said furrowing his brow and with a small smile beginning to form at his lips
“I just… I never really do it” you said, feeling your cheeks warming up and gaining a reddish color as his lips curled into a cute smile
“Alright, step out, I’ll park it for you” Spencer said opening the driver’s door and offering you his hand to step out of the car
“No no, no way Doctor Reid” you said completely embarrassed at the situation, and feeling the red from your cheeks spread through your whole face
“Just take my hand, I’ll park it for now, and later we can come down, and I’ll show you how to do it” he said with a sweet smile that made your stomach flutter. You took his hand and he helped you out with a swift movement; you walked to the sidewalk and watched as Spencer parked your car with ease.
Sure, you weren’t really friends, or knew each other a lot, but he definitely was cute to look at. Your mind started to wander; you couldn’t peel your eyes off of him as he placed his arm over the passenger’s seat to get a better look at the parking spot he was going to occupy; you stared at him, carefully examining the way his hands gently held the steering wheel, almost as careful as he held your hand; the way his profile looked almost angelical with his long curls framing his face and the soft beard that covered his jaw… Spencer got out of the car and walked towards you, with your eyes were glued to his figure, taking in every detail in hopes of keeping it safe in your mind. Your brain was a mush, when suddenly your train of thought was interrupted by your stomach growling
“Next time you stare, try to keep your mouth closed” Spencer said jokingly as he handed you your car keys
“I… I wasn’t” you stuttered when it happened again, once more and as if this whole situation wasn’t embarrassing enough, your stomach growled again, this time louder. This time, you were ready for the earth to open under your feet and just crawl into it
“Here, take this; it may not be breakfast, but it’s something” Spencer said handing you a white paper bag he retrieved from his messenger bag
“Oh, no, thank you, Doctor Reid, but I’m alright” you lied low-key praying that your stomach wouldn’t give away how hungry you were
“Please, take it y/n, and please, just call me Spencer, I’m not that old, you know?” he insisted, this time offering you a warm, reassuring smile, and you couldn’t help but chuckle
“Thank you… for everything” you said shyly as the two of you walked together towards the building
“Don’t thank me just yet, I still have to teach you how to parallel park” Spencer said, opening the door for you
“Oh, so you were serious?” you asked a little surprised, mostly because you thought he was joking when he said he��d teach you
“Of course I’m serious! You can’t keep arriving into the office freakishly early just because you can’t park” he added laughing as the two of you made your way into the elevator
218 notes · View notes