so now im gonna need perv!gator BADLY. like youâre the daughter of one of the cops at the station, your dad is one of those older cops (and close friends with roy) who threatens every guy at the station if they so much as look at you. but itâs so hard not to look at you when you bring your daddy lunch at least three times a week wearing the tiniest of skirts and dresses⊠and perv!gator is just barely keeping it in his pantsâŠ.
uffda
18+ MDNI [smut, language; gator's sleazy fantasy]
and he thinks this time is gonna be different, he's gonna show some fucking self-restraint (cause what is he, some pathetic, pussy-whipped little puke pile?), but then while he's in the break room sipping his coffee from a paper cup, you stride in with your dad's lunch in a container in your hands.
"hey gator," you throw noncommittally over your shoulder, opening the fridge to stick the meal inside.
maybe you realize, maybe you don't, but either way when you bend over to rearrange some of the other lunch kits and food items on the shelves, your skirt rides up and gator gets a full view of the lower half of your ass. he nearly chokes to death on his coffee, spitting and sputtering over the sink.
"aw jeez, you alright?!" you ask, worried. he just waves you off and storms off to the bathroom. you assume it's to clean up.
really he's hunched over in the bathroom stall, hastily working his camo pants and palming his achingly hard cock over his briefs with a shudder.
"fuckin' tease." he grumbles under his breath, eyes squeezing shut as he rhythmically strokes himself and imagines how he would've liked that break room encounter to end...
how he would've liked to have set his coffee cup down on the counter, calmly walk over to the door and twist the small lock; to see the look in your big, pretty eyes when you realized what was going to happen -- hungry, hazy with lust and want.
"fuckin' finally, tillman." you sit up on the countertop, spreading your legs wide in that useless little scrap of fabric you call a skirt and baring yourself to him completely. you start circling your clit with two fingers, licking your lips with a grin. "thought you'd never notice me, i've been trying to get your attention."
gator strides over with a smirk, dropping to his knees in front of you and licks a stripe up your drenched slit with no hesitation. he grips your plush thighs to hold them open while he tongues inside of you, the tip of his nose nuzzling your clit perfectly.
"oh shit, gator -- god, yes. you eat my pussy so good." you croak.
your back arches, one hand tangling in his hair and one palming and pinching your tit through your thin cotton shirt. he can feel you beginning to clench around his tongue, pussy fluttering as you cum all over his face. he laps up every drop before standing and grabbing the hair at the back of your head, pulling you back to kiss you deeply, sloppily, letting you taste yourself on his lips.
"please can i have your cock, gator? i bet it's so fuckin' big, i want you to fuck me stupid with it."
"fuck yeah, baby. i'm gonna split you wide open." gator says to you (and actually whimpers to himself in the real world, where he's desperately jerking himself off and biting his forearm to stifle his grunts).
he spears you with the blunt head of his dick, pushing into you smoothly from how wet and worked up you already are. your nails dig into his shoulder as you cry out, begging for him to fuck you hard and fast. he obliges, eyes rolling back at how tightly you're squeezing him.
"gator, fuck! oh yes, yes!" you squeal in his ear, far too loud to keep this little secret rendezvous between you both. he clamps a thick, rough hand over your mouth, feeling your hot breath and the gentle press of your tongue laving against his palm as every thought other than the heavy drag of his cock against your inner walls leaves your mind; you're seeing stars.
gator feels the coil in his own belly snap just before hot, thick ropes of cum paint your insides the bathroom wall. he whimpers your name, and as his eyes flutter open he sneers at the mess he now has to haphazardly clean up with the one-ply toilet paper in the stall.
he tears open the bathroom door, kicking himself for giving in and annoyed that he feels a little sticky now. his shoulder slams into someone, and just as he turns to bitch them out, he sees it's you and stops.
"oh, hell. sorry gator. i just can't stay out of your way today, can i?" you smile shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and tilting your head at him in concern. "y'okay tillman? you look flushed."
"nah. m'fine. see ya around."
he brushes by you, rolling his eyes at his stupid response. you bite your lip and watch his tight ass as he storms out of the station. god, if he would just give you one sign that he was interested in you...
maybe a little something about gator getting used to living with girly!reader? Like her everything shower routine, nighttime routines, drinking tea, candles in the house, cleaning up, small things like that that he wasnât used to on the ranch as a bachelor. Idk i feel like this could be cute and fluffy!!
The Space You Fill
soft!Gator Tillman x girly!reader
Summary: Gator grew up in the world of other people's rules and choices, where he was forbidden to want, ask, or get attached. But when you enter his small apartment, everything changes.
Tags/Warnings: soft!Gator, girly!reader, fluff, really very-very sweet, a brief mention of Roy.
W/C: 2,8k
A/n: I really enjoyed writing this! I hope you like it too! Thank you! đ I tried to use short forms to replicate Gator's manner of speaking, but I'm rather bad at American abbreviations and other things (I study British English at the institute). English is my second language, please, correct me if anything is wrong.
Gator thought that some things might change with you moving in with him, but he definitely didn't expect it to affect him in any way.
Even before you fully moved in, his already small apartment had started to rapidly fill up with your things. At first, it was just the basics: shampoo and hair conditioner on the shower shelf, a couple of books you brought so you wouldn't get bored if he got called into the police station, an old lipstick and a powder compact so you could quickly fix your makeup if needed.
But now you live with him, and your presence is everywhere.
It becomes noticeable from the very first week.
Morning. It's almost strange that you're working today while he is on shift at night. Gator stands in the middle of the bathroom, holding a bottle of shampoo that smells like ripe raspberries, and stares at his old shampoo with its half-peeled-off "2-in-1 for hair and body" label, feeling a little betrayed. It has been pushed to the farthest corner of the shelf, like some outcast in a kingdom of beauty, a criminal exiled for being almighty. Well, what's wrong with that? The last thing he needs is to buy a bunch of separate products for every part of his body. He is perfectly fine with slathering that stuff on, rinsing it off, and smelling like menthol and eucalyptus until his next shower. Simple, no fuss.
He steps out of the bathroom and notices your slippers in the hallway. They're woolly and pink, looking like giant paws. He tried to stick his foot into them once, thinking they were big enough, while you squealed that he'd stretch them out. As you can see, they're perfectly fine. You were rushing, you're always afraid you're running late, and yet you always end up arriving early. You left a little chaos behind, but Gator doesn't mind â he's already made peace with it. He steps over the slippers, then turns around, picks them up, and sets them by the wall so no one stumbles.
The changes in the kitchen have been quite the revelation too. Now he doesn't just make himself coffee in the morning: he asks you what you want to drink. Gator remembers that you always ask for tea. You even placed a tea organizer next to the electric kettle! Where you carefully stashed his lone box of black tea, which has more dust and tea crumbs in it than actual leaves and flowers.
Gator opens the fridge in search of a quick breakfast (he doesn't say that he actually likes the yogurts too, but you notice when they disappear and silently buy a few extra each time) and sees a container with a sticky note attached.
"Some for you too. Eat it before evening. If you lied about liking strawberries, you'll have to like them now. Kiss you."
With you, Gator started eating much better. He never bought fruit for himself, never made salads, and his snacks at work were dried meat and soda. He still remembers how dumbly he stared at you when you shoved a container of food at him to take with him.
Besides, no one had ever cut fruit for him before.
Gator opens the container with sliced strawberries and kiwis inside. He smirks at the thought that it's just like you and him. You're sweet, and everyone loves you, like strawberry. And he's unappealing and an acquired taste, but inside, not so bad. Probably.
Gator is grateful that you don't change things radically, just improve them, leaving what he already had.
You fill all the free space that was actually just empty because Gator had nothing to put there. And honestly, he even felt a little joyless looking at the surfaces and shelves that only held a layer of dust. But that problem is solved. On the sofa lies a glossy magazine, and Gator will definitely investigate what you circled with a marker in the cosmetics section. Your cardigan with golden flower-shaped buttons is draped over the back of a chair. And on the coffee table is a box with a set of hairpins, but only two are left because you have lost the rest.
He won't tell you that one of them is in his uniform pocket.
By the second week, you had finally moved all your things in.
Gator comes home late from work. As usual, he takes a quick shower, and then comes the worst part of the day. Untangling his hair from its styling. And for some reason, in the morning he couldn't get it to lay flat on the first try, so it's horribly stuck together from too much gel, because water got on it while he was washing himself. Gator steps out of the bathroom looking for his comb and, of course, he can't sneak past you.
"What are you doing?" You turn down the TV volume and look at him.
"My comb's gone somewhere." He sees several combs on the dresser, but his isn't there.
"You mean half a comb?"
"I said what I said." Gator snorts, a little irritated, water dripping onto his shoulders. "Wait, you didn't throw it out, did you?" It suddenly dawns on him.
"No, it's in the drawer. Come on." You stand up, and he lets you go first because he likes watching you in that satin set: the top with straps and ruffled shorts. You rummage through the drawer where he keeps his spare razor cartridges and the new deodorant he bought on the BOGO deal. You pull out a comb â a wide-toothed one, with a third of the teeth missing.
"Thanks." Gator replies flatly, but you don't leave. "You can go."
"I want to see what happens next." You say with distrust, but Gator just shrugs. He tries to comb his hair, but it's tangled, with knots even forming in places where the comb snags. It looks like torture. But not for him. For you. "What are you doing!"
Gator flinches at your loud exclamation, which hits his ears. You shout like he's nearly broken federal law. "I almost went deaf. It's your own fault for staying to watch. I thought you were a spectator, not a critic."
"Give it to me. Sit." You pull a stool from the corner for him to sit on. You grab a squeeze tube from the shelf, and Gator tenses up. This is better than scissors, sure, but still...
"What's that for?" He tries to read the label.
"Just hair conditioner, for easy detangling." You take a little in your hand and apply it to his head.
"It's gross, like jelly." Gator sniffs it. "And it smells terrible!"
"Would you rather go bald by ripping your hair out with... that?" You're pointing at his pathetic hair care kit.
"Fine, just do what you gotta do." Your fingers gently massage his scalp, spreading that disgustingly sweet conditioner through his hair. He wants to protest, say he's a cop, not a poodle being groomed before a show, but the words get stuck in his throat because... this feels nice.
Damn. This really feels pleasurable.
You run your fingers through his wet hair, untangling the knots he made himself. Gator closes his eyes, feeling the tension leave his shoulders. When you touch the back of his head, he almost purrs. Almost. He'd never admit it.
"Always start combing from the bottom up. And how many times have I told you that shampoo dries out your hair?" You advise and explain reasonably, without pressure. "We can get you something without such a strong scent."
"I'll think about it..." Gator grumbles, but already knows he'll go to the store with you this weekend and smell everything you shove under his nose until he approves.
"Now you can wask it all off." You wait patiently while Gator washes his hair. And when he reaches for a towel, you hand him something completely different.
"This is a t-shirt." He looks at you with a hint of skepticism. Was just touching his hair enough to drive you crazy?
"No. Well, yes, but that's the point. Terry towels tangle hair, but cotton just absorbs water." You make him bend down and wrap his head in your old pink t-shirt. You bite your lip, stifling a laugh, because Gator looks ridiculous.
"I opened a portal to hell when I let you do this." He hangs his head dejectedly, more theatrically, but still a little offended. You don't even pay attention to his antics, patting his hair dry with the t-shirt again. Before turning on the hairdryer, you grab another product from the shelf and spray it over him without warning. "Chemical attack! I'm in a gas chamber! Exit is blocked..." Gator covers his eyes with his hand and coughs. It smells like meadow flowers and honey. Harmless.
"Oh, Gator, you're so dramatic." You turn on the hairdryer and don't hear him cursing. Honestly, you really like touching his head, especially when his hair is so silky. When you finish drying, you lean down, pressing your face into the top of his head, inhaling the scent.
"What are you plotting now?" Gator fidgets, because everything he's let you do so far is way out of bounds. But he looks in the mirror and sees you hugging him around the neck, your hands on his shoulders, slightly bent, pressed against his back.
"Nothing. I'm done." You shrug and walk out, heading back to the bedroom.
Gator examines himself in the mirror, and giving you your due, he's never looked this good.
So... Domestic.
He walks over to you, and you're sitting at the dressing table on a low pouf, brushing your hair. Gator squats down next to you.
"You didn't comb your hair? I showed you where your comb is." You run the brush through his front strands, and his bangs fall into his eyes. You laugh, and he rests his head on your lap. Complete surrender. You comb his hair, and his arms wrap tightly around your waist. "You smell like me."
"Y'know, maybe it's not so bad."
By the third week of living side by side with you, Gator realized how lucky he was.
He doesn't say it out loud, but he understands that he's ready to take back every word he ever said. He likes this. Being in comfort. Not just surviving, as it was at the ranch. When he lived in his father's house, he wasn't allowed to have excess belongings â only the bare essentials â and it felt more like the army than a home where, it turns out, you can keep fond things and warm memories. When he moved into a separate little house on the same ranch, it got better. Though he had to fix it up himself so the roof wouldn't leak and the wiring wouldn't short. But it was his den, where posters could hang on the walls and he could listen to any music he liked, as loud as he wanted.
And in a world of constant prohibitions and reproaches, you showed him that getting attached to things isn't bad at all: it's actually good to have something you love. Something of your own. Because when he left the ranch, he realized he didn't know how to choose something other than the first thing he grabbed or the cheapest option, how to want something, and most importantly, how to ask for it. He grew up convenient, quiet, obedient. But you started proving to him that he could be selective, picky, have his own opinions, and not be punished or humiliated for it.
Gator lived by other people's choices, and sometimes he just didn't have the energy left to make his own, because after a 24-hour shift, he didn't care what movie was on TV. He turned it not just to fall asleep in silence.
And now he falls asleep cuddling and talking to you.
You let him try and make mistakes. And that tells him more about your love than any words ever could, and Gator is glad that you see it too. A couple of days ago, you were putting hand cream on at night, and he just reached out his hand to place it in yours. At first, you didn't understand what he wanted, but when you felt how dry his hands were and how cracked his skin was, you didn't ask questions. You applied some cream and traced each knuckle.
That's how you learned that chamomile and sandalwood appeal to him more than geranium and bergamot. And now that cream lies on his side of the nightstand. There's a lot more stuff there now, actually: a velvet cloth where Gator places his watch and badge so they don't scratch the nightstand; a moisturizer he needs, especially in winter; sometimes a mug of jasmine tea, because you broke him of the habit of drinking coffee at night.
With you, Gator feels significant, not like a hollow space. At first, he thought it was silly when you asked him about the color of the blanket to cover the sofa in the living room or the kitchen towels you wanted to buy, or any other trifling question you could have answered yourself but chose to consult him on.
That's how you show him that he matters.
And he tries to pay you back in kind.
Tonight is just for the two of you. Gator booked a table at some fancy restaurant, having researched options in advance to make sure you'd like it. He's trying to get used to styling his hair without gel, so it's soft and pliable with a faint hint of mint and lemongrass, because that way you can run your hands through it and ruffle it. He put on a crisp white shirt, and you helped him roll up the sleeves.
Gator waits for you. He peers into the bedroom, and you're almost ready too, finishing your styling. You're sitting, twisted at an awkward angle to see what you're doing in the mirror. Your hair is already curled into perfect ringlets in the front and on the sides, but the back is still straight.
You notice him. "I'll be done soon, the mirror isn't helping me synchronize my hair and the styler." You joke.
"Give it to me." Gator takes it from your hands.
"Do you know how to use it?" You ask, and Gator can't help but admire how your eyes sparkle, and it's not from the shimmery eyeshadow.
"I know how to follow orders. If you guide me, maybe something will come out of it."
"Okay." You turn your back to him. "Basically, it does everything itself: just separate a strand, turn it on, bring it close. It'll curl it."
"Sounds simple, like even I could do it." Gator smiles and does exactly what you say. He separates a strand, turns on the styler, and brings it to your hair. The hair wraps around the heated cylinder, and Gator waits a few seconds. "Then what?"
"There's a button, cool it with cold air, then turn it off." You explain, feeling his breath on the top of your head. Gator switches the air to cold, then turns off the styler. A perfect curl. He repeats it three more times before proudly declaring that it's done.
"Now spray it with hairspray." You grab it and hand to Gator.
"Just take it and...?" Gator makes a motion with his hand but doesn't press the nozzle.
"Yes, like when I sprayed the heat protection on you in the bathroom."
"Oh, well, I can do that." He sprays a cloud of hairspray over you, then puts everything aside and rests his hands on your shoulders, squeezing gently. Gator kisses the back of your head. "You look pretty. Very-very pretty."
"So do you." You reply with a smile, and he leans back a little to look at you.
"Did the hairspray get into your eyes?" Gator laughs, but you're actually serious.
"Not at all." You stand up and reach your arms out to him. He doesn't want to ruin your makeup, so he just hugs you, but you press your cheek against his. "Thank you, Gator."
"Anytime, baby." Gator looks at you, and one side of his face is shimmering from your highlighter.
"Now you're glowing too." You try to wipe the glitter off his cheek, and he covers your hands with his.
"That's all because of you." Gator leans in and presses his forehead against yours, his nose barely touching yours. "Come on, we don't want to be late, right?"
You nod, and he takes your hand, certain that it couldn't get any better.
He thought moving in was about letting you into his life.
But it turns out that he's been living in yours for a long time.
all i can think about in this heatwave is reader having thick thighs and suffering from chafing (im so not talking about myself this is so not self-indulgent) and husband!gator being eager to help wether to rub some cream/ lotion on ya or do whatever you need to feel better. and maybe heâs a bit too eager *side eye*
you sent this in weeks ago and i apologize for not getting to it sooner, bc every time i saw it in my inbox i literally felt like my eyes were gonna pop out of my head. here's a little baby blurb!
"I feel like I'm melting."
Beside you, your husband scoffs, and you tilt your head to send him a dirty look. It's Sunday morning, but instead of greeting the day with slow, love drunk morning sex or breakfast at the diner in town, you're both currently sprawled across your bed, the window unit A/C on full blast.
It's only 10 a.m. and it's already 87 degrees in Stark County. You think that's grounds to sue.
"'s just a heat wave, you big grump," Gator says, flipping onto his side. Despite his nonchalant comment, he's fully taking advantage of the near-boiling temperature by wearing minimal clothing, opting for just a black pair of boxer briefs. It makes you want to scream, and not in a good way.
"Shut up," you mutter, tossing an arm over your eyes. "Your thighs don't get all sweaty and rub together when it's this hot. It's awful."
"Don't talk bad about your body like that." he scolds.
"'m not," you mumble, "Just saying. At least you don't have to deal with that."
"Well, can you do anything to help it?"
You shrug, peeking out from underneath your arm. "Sometimes I put lotion there."
"Yeah?" Gator asks, moving onto his stomach, chin flat against his hands.
"Yeah, but that's usually after I'm in pain."
"I can still do it now, though," he offers, already sitting up. "Which lotion do you use? Is it in your nightstand drawer or in the bathroom?"
A gentle smile curls at your lips. "Bathroom. It's the green bottle."
Gator quickly returns with the lotion in hand, kneeling down on the bed and shuffling between your legs. He taps your right thigh and uses the other hand to pop the cap open.
"Open up, pretty thing," he instructs with a small smirk, and you roll your eyes. "Lemme get between these gorgeous thighs of yours, yeah?"
"Should've known where this was going." you mutter, nevertheless following his directive and bending your legs at the knee, allowing him to apply the lotion to the insides of each of your thighs.
"No idea what you're talkin' about," Gator replies easily. He tosses the bottle somewhere on the bed, then takes your left leg into his hand, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. "Just wanna show you why I love these precious legs so much."
cw: slightly unethical gator behavior, mentions of stalking
*taps mic*
ahem
currently thinking about ditzy!reader going to the stark county police department to file a police report for something ridiculous â like, someone keeps stealing your garbage cans or something, and you're convinced it's your grumpy next door neighbor and you've finally had enough of it. except in typical roy tillman fashion, he doesn't realize that you're sitting right next to his office while he berates gator about some illegal criminal activity they're up to.
you don't actually hear anything (you're too busy playing candy crush on your phone), but roy's convinced that you were eavesdropping the entire time and now you're going to use that information to blackmail them or whatever other stupid shit goes through his thick skull, so he forces gator to essentially stalk and watch you to make sure you're not up to anything unsavory.
and, well... gator's not sure he's ever seen someone so odd in his life.
when you're not working at the tiny bookstore in town, you spend your time laying out in the small patch of grass that somehow constitutes as a front yard. it pisses gator off because it's not even fenced in and, more often than not, you fall asleep in the hazy afternoon sun, sometimes even into the evening and once, to 8 pm, and he almost got out of his truck and pretended someone called him to do a wellness check on you just to usher you into your house.
roy checks in often, but gator always has nothing to report. he's positive you're not up to anything, especially after looking you up in their system. (he felt a little bad about that, but he was also desperately curious about you.) he learned that you inherited your house from your grandma, which made sense as to why it looked so... matronly, you moved to lehigh earlier this year, you're two years younger than gator, and you have a squeaky clean record.
eventually, roy forgets about you. he doesn't need gator trailing you anymore, but gator can't stop thinking about you, so one day, before heading into work, he goes into the bookstore you work at. he pretends to look at the nonfiction section, even though gator's pretty sure he hasn't read a book since maybe middle school, if that. really, he's looking for you, and sure enough, you're ducked down in the far right corner of the small store, petting a fat, furry orange cat.
gator clears his throat when he sees you.
the cat meows.
you turn around, scooping the cat up into your arms.
"oh! it's you." you say, shuffling over to the cash register and plopping the cat down onto the counter.
gator furrows his eyebrows. the cat plunks its butt down in front of him, as if it's expecting him to start petting it. he stares back, unimpressed.
"you're the one who's been following me." you tack on, grabbing a misplaced book from the front table. "from the police department. i've noticed you. i was wondering when you were finally gonna say something."
yeah, gator thinks to himself with wide eyes, this is by far the weirdest person i've ever met.
so i have written ditzy!reader x gator before, i'm just not sure if i'd write a separate blurb or if it'd be a continuation of that one! (here it is if you wanna read it)
however.......a few people expressed interested in cheater x cheater with steve.............
you run in the same circle because you're both married couples living in the same boring suburban neighborhood with too much money and time on their hands. your husband is always working, always away at business conferences, always trying to buy your affection with grand flower arrangements and designer shoes and things you don't really give a shit about. steve married his wife after being pressured by his parents to settle down and find someone of equal status and wealth, which is why it's become a relatively loveless relationship.
you and your husband have lived in the neighborhood since getting married a few years back, and steve and his wife just bought their house last year. however, that doesn't mean that you don't know anything about steve â what, with being in such a gossipy little town, you probably know more about him than he even realizes. his job title, his company, where he went to high school and college, that his wife secretly does hate him, and that those big brown eyes are all but begging for someone to love him.
so, yeah. it's kind of the perfect recipe for an affair.
it starts as lingering touches and flirty remarks at dinners at the country club, while both your partners are there but too drunk or distracted to notice. one day, you exchange numbers after running into him in town (under the guise of something much more innocent, of course), and the conversations gradually turn much riskier, until you're full blown sexting in the bed you share with your husband. after that, steve begs to have the real thing, and you sleep together while your husband's out of town on business and his wife is on a spa weekend with her friends.
you both secretly wait for the guilt to set in, but for some reason, it never does.
To be honest I donât usually like cheating but this intrigued meâŠand then especially reading it while keeping in mind high infidelity by Taylor swift (a song I strangely love), it was a nice zest to your wonderful cocktail of a Drabble!
Can you tell Iâm a fan of the Oxford comma? Sorry for rambling, but I really enjoyed this! Thank you for sharing đ
summary: you like to have things in your mouth. steve hates it.
tags: reader has a bit of an oral fixation(?), steve has a fixation on reader, kissing, suggestive themes but no smut, brief mentions of steve's childhood, f!reader, touch starved steve, etc. etc. etc.
wc: 1222
note: i saw djo live IN THE FLESH on sunday and the worms are back in my brain....i need him bad. i started writing this before i fell asleep last night and finished it today so idk what it is. first steve fic tho <3 mayb i'll do another eventually. this probably sucks. enjoy!
He can't stop looking at your mouth.
It's something you started doing with it. This instinctual need to have something in it; a sucker, a straw to chew on, a bobby pin.
it drives him up a wall.Â
Especially now, sitting across from you on the couch as you attentively watch whatever he put on the TV, completely still except for the pen cap rolling around between your teeth.Â
He's noticed it over time, your inability to sit still. Usually it's your fingers twisting a hair tie back and forth, your foot tapping against the floor, your hair twirled between your fingers.
Nothing ever this distracting.
He's not even sure if you realize you're doing it. Or worse, the torment it's causing him.Â
"Do you-" he clears his throat, his voice thick with something he doesn't want to name. "Are you hungry? Do you need something to eat?"
Your gaze slides from the tv to him, brows furrowing in confusion. That pen cap falling still between your lips.
God, your mouth. He can't stop thinking about it.Â
"What?" The word is slightly mumbled, still not having taken the cap out of your mouth.Â
There's a sheen on your lips, a mix of whatever gloss you put on earlier and spit sticking to them. He feels like he's going to die.
"Steve."
He must have lost a second (or a minute), because when he makes eye contact with you, your eyes are a mix of confusion and concern.Â
And a bit of smugness too, he thinks. A small tilt to your smile, like you saw him, like you wanted him to watch.
He runs a hand through his hair, tries again. "Are you hungry? I can make something if you want."Â
"We just ate dinner, though."
"Yeah but," he gets stuck there, on the corner of your mouth. You've taken the cap out, now biting the inside of your lips. "You keep chewing on shit. I don't know if that was a silent message to me if you wanted something else or not."
He looks back up and knows. Caught. Your eyes are clear now, the smugness from your smile spreading to them. Like you know what it's doing to him.
"Are you okay? You look-" you reach a hand out to his forehead, pressing the back of your palm to it, "flustered." The simple contact of your skin on his feels electric and he has to fight to not lean his whole weight into it.
"Fine." He feels like he's gonna pass out.
"You sure?" You lean in, your hand shifting as your fingers start playing with his hair. He shudders, his eyes falling closed as you twist the strands through your fingers.
He can feel your breath on his mouth. Not sure when you leaned even closer, but he swallows as he sits there. Waits.
"I saw you watching," you murmur, "you looked pissed off at the pen."
"I am." He opens his eyes to see you searching his face, for what, he's not sure. "Was wondering why you always have something in your mouth." His gaze drifts back to it.
You hum, your face shifting to the side, your lips pressing to his jaw as your hand in his hair shifts to cup the nape of his neck. "Dunno. Just feels nice."Â
A bite under his ear. Tasting his skin, rolling it between your teeth before soothing it with your tongue. Feels nice to have his skin on your lips.
Steve's chest heaves, shifting his hips a little to ease the pressure off. "You're messing with me."Â
He can feel your smile, then. Like you know he's caught you. Like this was your plan all along, to ease yourself closer to him. Your head moves up, back in front of him and he opens his eyes to look at you. Hadn't even realized they'd fallen shut again.
He wonders what you see. Flushed cheeks, dilated pupils, breath falling heavy out of his mouth. A mess.
"Honey," you start. Your gaze falls to his mouth, then. "Do you want me to kiss you?"
The words are quiet, gentle. Like you know that's what he needs. A soft touch, a gentle approach. Â
Sometimes Steve gets stuck. Caught in a long lost pattern where he wants something but doesn't know how to ask for it. Feels his skin get clammy and his heart rate kick up as that voice in the back of his head becomes louder. Too much. Too needy.Â
Feels it in his throat, then. Pressure in the back of it, every muscle in his body telling him not to. Too risky. She wants you to say no.Â
"Please," he rasps out.Â
You smile. A gentle, knowing one. Like you can hear those voices too. Like you know him well enough to realize when it's hard for him to ask.Â
Your other hand comes up to cup his cheek as you lean in, lips pressing to his. You're cautious, not out of nerves, but knowing that he might need a second to settle.Â
Your tongue swipes across his bottom lip and he melts. Reaches across to your hips to pull you closer to him. Needs that touch. Nothing has ever grounded him as much as you do.Â
You raise up onto your knees so you're above him and you hum warmly when he pushes closer to you in any way he can. Hands tightening, pinkies slipping under your shirt, rubbing small circles against your ribs.Â
He's warm all over. Your mouth is hot and wet against his, letting out little breaths that go straight through him like a live wire. You kiss like that for a few minutes, the time lost to him as he gets lost in you.
"Steve," you start, pulling back just slightly. It's a reflex for him to lean back in, to get more from you. You let him before reaching into his hair and tugging just enough to get his attention.Â
He whimpers at it, leaning back and opening his eyes to see you smiling at him again, eyebrows raised in surprise. "You know you can kiss me whenever you want, right?"
His throat is dry as he swallows. He feels dazed, back to staring at your mouth again. Pink, a little swollen. He's obsessed with it a little, he thinks.Â
Tells you that too. "You drive me insane sometimes," his thumb reaches up to run across your bottom lip, sinking in a bit until he feels your teeth. "Always playing with stuff in your mouth. Can't think about anything else when you're doing it." You close your lips around his thumb and suck a little. Steve feels like he's going to die.Â
"Well," you lean closer, lifting one of your legs over his hips and resting your weight on him. He exhales sharply, knowing you can feel how hard he is. "Lucky for you, there's an easily solution to that."Â
He's grinning when you lean back down, pressing your mouth to his in a way that shows him how badly you want it.
And later when Steve starts stealing little items from you, rolling them around in his hands and twisting them between his long fingers, you may have to cross your legs and turn your attention elsewhere, (but he doesn't need to know that).Â
Omg so excited for the event !!! for the dialogue prompt would you do Keys mckey with 4. ?
#4 - "No panties?" Uhhhhh yeahhhh I will. Requested for my 3k follower special event.
easy access
âWhatâare you serious?â Keys sputters around his drink, pulling back in shock. âWeâre at a work event!â
Party. A work party. And just because the bar is filled with people who all work at Soonami Studios doesnât mean you canât have a little fun.Â
You shrug. âSo?â
âSo?â Keys looks over at you, flabbergasted. âYou canât justââ His voice drops, eyes flicking around the bar. âYou canât just walk around with no panties on.â
 You just bite your lip and smirk in response.Â
He sighs, dragging a large hand over his face, knocking his glasses askew. âGod, I canât believe you told me that.â
The AC kicks on with a hum and air rushes in under your legs from where youâre standing at the far edge of the bar. You tug your dress down a little lower, but it doesnât help much. You did choose the shortest one you own, after all.Â
âKeys, everyone hooks up at this event,â you say, perusing your options currently walking into the party in work attire. Standard khakis and rolled-up sleeves, broad shoulders and styled hair. âItâs likeâŠa thing.â
âYeah, you know, I didnât exactly get CCâd on that email."
The music hums through your bones, making your heart beat faster, and the sound of ice clinking pulls your eyes to the bartender. Heâs shaking up a martini, exchanging small talk with one of your secretaries. Sheâs smiling up at him from her seat, playing with her earring. See? Sheâs doing the same thing you are. Everyone is.Â
Keys gestures vaguely with his glass, the condensation catching the neon light. âAnd what, exactly, is the strategy there? I meanââÂ
âAre you still talking about my underwear?â You huff, turning to look at him.Â
His eyes widen. âUh, yeah. Especially, the lack thereof!â
âEasier access, Keys. What are you not getting?â
âEasierââ his lips part in shock. âOh my god, what is wrong with you?â
âHey!â You smack his chest with the back of your hand. Itâs warm, and solid through his T-shirt. âItâs been awhile since Iâve gotten laid, okay? Iâm getting desperate.â
He scoffs, snarky as ever. âIâll sayââ
You jaw drops and you shove his arm. âShut up! And why do you care, anyway? Weâve had this event three years in a row and youâve never showed!â
His head whips towards you in surprise, but youâre not looking at him anymore. He opens his mouth to say something in response to that, butâ
âIâm going in,â you state, eying a handsome-enough guy in a suit, sitting alone at the bar. Youâve seen him around a couple times, at the water fountain and such. Is his nameâŠBeau? Bâsomething. Youâll figure it out.Â
You take a steadying breath and turn towards Keys. âOkay, how do I look?â
The dim lights cascade over your curves as you spin in place. His eyes flick over you, practiced and efficient, but as they climb back up, they snag on your thighs, the plunge in your dress, that damn lipstick shade he sees every day on the rim of your coffee cup.
The song changes, fading into something slower. Headier.Â
He swallows hard. âYou lookâŠâÂ
The moment stretches out between you, his words left hanging mid-air.Â
âWow, that good, huh?â you tease, but thereâs a breathless edge to your voice.Â
He blushes and looks away, raising his glass to his lips again. âWhatever.â
You nod, then hesitate for a second, though youâre not really sure why.Â
 âAlright, well.â You chuckle nervously. âWish me luck.â
âYeah.â His voice has this flat, quiet edge to it that pulls at something in your stomach. âGood luck.â
The cold glass bites into his palm as he watches you walk away, hips swaying to the beat of the music, and approach Benjamin nursing a whiskey sour.Â
Ben looks way too fucking happy to see you. His posture shifts, shoulders dropping, his knees widening on the barstoolâ
Keys sighs heavily, and then heâs moving. He shoves his way through the patrons, ignoring their familiar pleasantries, until heâs standing right in front of you.Â
You look up, blinking in surprise.Â
His glass slams down on the bartop, right in front of Ben, along with a couple of bills from his wallet, and before you know whatâs happening, Keys grabs your arm and guides you toward the door.Â
You can barely squeak in protest before the warm night air brushes your cheeks, leaving the smells of liquor and perfume behind.Â
âWhat theâ?â you mutter, stumbling after him as he pulls you right up to the side of his parked car.Â
He yanks open the passenger door and steps aside. âGet in.â
You stare at him. âYouâre not serious.â
âOh. I can assure you,â he says, brown eyes locked on yours behind his glasses. âI am.â
Suddenly, his hand finds your waist, and the gentle pressure short-circuits your brain. You slump unceremoniously into the leather seat, still staring up at him, but when his touch slides away, you suddenly remember your outrage.Â
âKeys!â you protest âWhat are youââ
The door slams shut, cutting you off. You huff and cross your arms as he disappears around the back of his car. A second later, he slips into the driverâs seat without looking at you.
âWhere the fuck are we going?â you hiss.Â
He doesnât answer immediately. Instead, he leans in towards you. Your breath catches as his chest brushes yours. A car passes you on the street, headlights swinging over him, outlining a lock of hair as it falls across his forehead. His hand fumbles with something on your right, but youâre just thinking about how close his mouth is to yours. How easy it would be toâ
âWeâre going home,â he says, finally grabbing the seatbelt and pulling it across your lap, clicking it into place before retreating back into his seat and doing the same to his.Â
Anger rises up in you, swift and hot.Â
You actually got dressed up tonight. Like, you put makeup on, shaved your legs, wore your expensive perfumeâŠeverything. You needed to fucked tonight, and now your nerdyâand totally hotâco-worker is ruining it.
You glare over at him. âI canât believe you! Youâre taking me back home? I justââ
âMy home,â Keys corrects.Â
The car engine roars to life beneath you as he twists the key in the ignition. Why would he beâ?
Oh.Â
After a silent moment, Keys finally looks over at you. The glow of the streetlight reflects in his glasses, and his bottom lip catches between his teeth.Â
âI meanâŠâ he starts, âif youâŠwant.â
You almost snort.' If you want.' The only words bouncing around in your head sound a lot likeâŠfucking finally.Â
You nod, then smile. âJustâplease. Drive fast.â
Keys shakes his head. âYou went without panties for easy access. You really thought I was going to make you wait twenty whole minutes?â He grips the steering wheel with one hand, eyes fixed on the street as he turns on his blinker. Then, his other lands heavy in your lap, fingers splaying over your warm skin.Â
âSpread your legs.â
mini drabble? i hardly know her⊠go request something if you want! my 3k follower special event is live!
Summary: 4k Bob keeps slipping up when signing off his phone calls.
Warnings: Bob is packing and Reader is lusting, but this is so PG.
A/N: I've been sick the past week and haven't had time to write, so please don't judge me too hard on this. (Bonus at the end)
You loved the Dagger Squad. But being with them almost constantly was kind of exhausting. With mostly the same hours and mostly the same schedules week in and week out, you still ended up spending loads of time together outside of work.
Hikes in the surrounding area, trips to the beach, visits to new restaurants and bars, or even just visiting the Hard Deck after work some nights; you name it, you were all there. And somehow in the midst of being thrown together and reassigned to the new squadron under Maverick, you all became a family, though some of you were closer than others. It was natural.
Youâd become closest to Phoenix and when the time came to relocate to California permanently, you both decided to get an apartment together. It saved on rent and the grocery bills, so it made sense.
The complex youâd gotten an apartment in happened to be mostly military due to its proximity to the base, but that wasnât an issue. What was an issue was that you werenât the only Daggers in the place and that meant your apartment became a hangout zone even when you werenât prepared for it. Hangman got a one bedroom somewhere on the third floor of the building right next to yours, Payback and Fanboy were in the apartment right above yours, and the topping on the cake? Rooster and Bob had gotten the two bedroom two doors down. Youâd told Natasha when youâd all decided to rent in the same area that it felt like the worst twist of fate to be so close to everyone, but it was actually kind of nice. Overwhelming sometimes, but nice.
Even though half the group was off, somehow you ended up grocery shopping alone, which was a miracle in and of itself. Someone was always there, berating your food choices or dumping junk in the cart that no one needed. But, just to be nice, youâd texted in the group chat that you were going shopping and asked if anyone in the building needed anything. No one responded, so you ignored it.
You were halfway through the produce section when your phone started buzzing in your pocket. Bobâs profile photo filled the screen when you pulled it out to look at it.
âHello?â
âHey! Are you still at the store?â Bob asked, sounding breathless. You checked your watch and realized heâd probably been at the gym with Mickey. They had a standing date most times to work out together.
âYeah, did you need me to grab something for you?â You cradled the phone between your shoulder and your ear as you surveyed the bunches of bananas and hummed when you found a bunch you approved of.
âDo you mind picking up a few sweet potatoes and a bag of regular ones? I promised Iâd grill tomorrow night and forgot to pick up potatoes. I was going to stop at the store after the gym, but if youâre already there . . .â he trailed off, tone hopeful. You rolled your eyes even though he couldnât see you.
âI canât believe you forgot the second most important thing for grilling.â
âGive me some credit. I got the steaks and Rooster stocked the fridge with so much alcohol I canât even find the rest of the food I bought last week.â
âYeah, yeah,â you laughed, âIâll get your potatoes. Paybackâs making his momâs mac and cheese, right?â
âI think so.â Bobâs voice sounded more muffled for a second and you imagined him using his towel to wipe off gym sweat and, nope, you didnât need to think about that in the grocery store of all places. âWhat are you and Nat bringing?â
âHa, I put Phoenix on watermelon duty. You know damn well she canât cook. Iâm making sâmores brownies. And I think Hangman said heâd grab a vegetable tray or something, but thatâs typical for him. I bet he shows up with a bag of broccoli or something. Is Javy going to make it?â
âHe said something about his son being sick, so I donât think so.â
You hummed and started choosing sweet potatoes, trying to pick ones that wouldnât take too long on the grill but still had enough potato to make it worth cutting into. Coyote was the only one on your squad with a family, so he wasnât always able to make it to your team dinners or extra events, but it was nice to know that at least one of you wasnât going to die alone. âThatâs too bad. Iâll have to check in and see if they need anything. I know he mentioned something about not having the same support system they had at their old posting.â
âIt canât be easy starting over with more than just yourself to worry about.â You could hear cars driving by and figuring Bob was now walking back to the apartment block from the gym in the community center.
âNo, I bet it isnât.â you murmured. Even though you had just seen him yesterday at work and even afterwards when all the boys had ended up on your couch drinking beers and watching some comedy show Jake was streaming to your tv from his phone, you held up conversation really well about other things and you kept Bob on the phone as you went around the store getting what you needed and what Nat had added to the list. But then you were in line at the registers and you didnât want to be rude to the high school kid ringing you out, so you shifted the phone again. âHey, Iâm about to check out. Iâll see you in a bit when I get back, yeah?â
âYou have the potatoes?â
âYes, Robert,â you sighed, âI have your potatoes. You have such little faith in me. I was literally on the phone with you when I picked them up and I told you Iâd get them.â
âOkay, I believe you,â he laughed. God, you loved his laugh. You were smiling into your phone like a teenager, happy just to hear it directed at something you said.
âIâll be back in twenty and you can help me carry the groceries in. Consider that your second workout for the day.â
âAlright, let me know when youâre back.â You heard the door to the apartment shut with the outside world's sounds stopping immediately in favor of their air purifierâs hum. âLove you, bye.â
You didnât even get a chance to say anything back because he hung up the phone immediately. Had he meant to say that? You stared down at the blank screen for a second before someone cleared their throat behind you and you realized you were holding up the checkout lane. Embarrassed, you quickly finished paying and exited the store.
The whole drive home you wondered if he meant to say that or if it was just a reflex. Youâd certainly done it before by accident, usually after talking to your mom. By the time you parked in the lot right outside your building, you resolved not to say anything about it. If he didnât mean to say it, you didnât want him to feel bad about it. However, you couldnât deny that you wished it was something heâd planned to say.
You shot him a text and three minutes later, a still sweaty Bob was bounding down the stairs to help bring up the groceries. The view stopped you in your tracks. Youâd seen him sweaty before. There were only so many PT sessions and pushups a girl could watch him do before being in danger of passing out from how good Bob looked when he did physical activities, but today? It was devastating.
Whoever let Bob wear grey sweatpants needed to be put in prison. Because he was wearing them and an athletic sleeveless top that showed off his muscles and down below he was showing something else off. Bob was packing. He had to be doing this on purpose, right? No one just casually put on sweatpants that hugged the curves that made one practically indecent. Was he even wearing underwear?
You could feel heat rush to your face just from the act of tracing your eyes over the very clear outline in his pants that was more than just little, so you hid your face in your trunk in the guise of organizing your reusable grocery bags. The cashier had just chucked everything in there and you hadnât taken the time to reorganize them in the store because youâd been so embarrassed about holding up the line.
Bob sidled up next to you and took three of the bags, leaving you with two.
âPotatoes?â he asked with a grin.
âJesus, Floyd, if you ask me about the goddamn potatoes one more time, I 'm going to lob one at your head. As soon as I find them.â
He just laughed and started carrying his bags up the stairs, leaving you to close the trunk and carry the other two bags up. When you got upstairs just after him, he was waiting patiently for you to unlock the door.
âNatâs home. You couldâve knocked.â
âOh.â
âOr, I know you know the keycode to the door. You couldâve typed it in.â
âWith Phoenix in there? Alone? No. She mightâve attacked me with a frying pan.â
A laugh escaped your mouth as you typed in the code and walked inside.
âNat! Iâm home! You better be decent because weâve got company!â you shouted. You heard her door slam and grinned, turning back to Bob who was right behind you. âShe definitely wasnât decent so maybe youâre right.â
âIâm always right.â he muttered, heading into the kitchen to help you put the groceries away. It was like a choreographed ballet, the way the two of you seamlessly moved around your kitchen putting away vegetables and meats and the dry goods for your pantry. He even helped reorganize a section of your freezer so you could put your ice cream in there.
And then he found the potatoes and grinned that dopey smile of his as he held them up.
âWhat did I tell you, Floyd? I bought your fucking potatoes.â
âAnd you are a life saver. Need any more help?â
âNope,â you said as you closed the pantry door, âyou are relieved of your duties. Take your goddamn potatoes and go take a shower. You stink.â
âHey,â he whined. âIââ
âWas at the gym, yeah, yeah. Go shower. Besides, I think Payback said something about the boys ordering takeout and watching some documentary, so I know you wonât want to miss that.â
âAre you and Nat coming up?â
âAbsolutely not.â you sniffed, nose wrinkled. âItâs wine night and weâre polishing off a bottle and watching one of her trashy tv shows. I think sheâs making me watch Love Island or something.â
âSounds like fun.â
âYouâre not invited.â
Bob had the audacity to actually pout. And it was freaking adorable.
âGo take your shower! Iâll see you tomorrow. Have fun with the boys.â
Three minutes later, you were alone in the kitchen and Bob was heading back to his place. Truth was, he couldâve stayed, but you were worried youâd jump his bones if he kept getting close to you with those sweats on. They really left nothing to the imagination and you contemplated getting off to the image that was now seared into your brain when Phoenix came out of her room with a devious smile on her face.
âGo take a shower!â she crooned in a horrible imitation of your voice, âIâll see you tomorrow.â
You fixed her with a blank stare and she grinned.
âYouâve got it so bad for him.â
âI do not.â
âYes, you do, but itâs fine. Youâll admit it later after Iâve gotten a few drinks in you. You always do.â
You sighed, because yeah, you always did. She had a video of you drunkenly waxing poetic about Bobâs eyes and hair the last time you drank alone with her and you knew she also had video evidence of you saying youâd climb him like a tree if heâd let you. Drunk you was honest, which was definitely going to be your downfall one day. Though, if you were better at holding your liquor, youâd also have videos of Nat talking about how badly she wanted to bed Rooster. To you, that was even more gross than your pathetic crush on Bob Floyd. But maybe it wasnât that pathetic if heâd told you he loved you on the phone. Even if it was a reflex.
âMaybe I wonât this time.â
âPlease, Iâm already prepared to listen to you whine about his sweatpants.â
âYou didnât even see them.â you blinked.
âOh, I saw them. I just didnât interrupt. Because I'm a great wingwoman.â
âThen you saw the front?â
âHoney, I didnât need proof that Bob was hiding a monster down there. The boys have talked about it before. How did you miss that?â Phoenix laughed, going into the fridge to grab one of her smoothie drinks that youâd just restocked the fridge with.
âWell, it definitely adds to the appeal.â
Nat rolled her eyes and downed half her drink in one go. You mustâve made a face because she waggled her eyebrows at you for good measure.
âWhat are you making for dinner?â she asked.
âYou really need to learn how to cook something other than box mac and cheese.â you groaned, stepping back into the kitchen to start pulling stuff out of the fridge to make dinner. âWhat if I left you to your own devices?â
âThen Iâd starve and die. Why do you think I kept volunteering for deployments? They cook for me even if the food is shit.â She was grinning as she sat at the kitchen counter, tapping away on her phone. She was texting someone and you almost wanted to look over her shoulder to figure out who it was, but you had your suspicions. Sheâd been awful smiley ever since she found out Bradshaw would be staying on the team for good.
âIâm making cheesy chicken and potato casserole.â
âDelicious. See, this is why I keep you around.â
âYeah, yeah. So you say.â
Dinner was finished with minimal side-comments and Nat poured the wine while you dished it up. Sheâd already queued up Love is Blind on your tv and sat there giving you recaps of what youâd missed while she shoveled down her dinner. And, by the end of the night, Phoenix had a new video of you in her camera roll of you whining about Bobâs indecent sweatpants.
It became a habit. Bob stopped texting you about certain things and instead picked up the phone to call you. While he was grocery shopping, about weekend plans or day off plans, whether or not youâd be on the same flight patterns, driving in the car someplace, you name it. And nearly every time he signed off, he signed off with a âlove you, byeâ like it was a completely normal thing to say. It turned your insides to mush every time.Â
After the tenth time he did it two weeks later, you turned it over to Phoenix.
âNat, heâs killing me.â you groaned, head resting on the counter in front of you.
She hummed noncommittally around her cereal, which was one of the only things she knew how to put together.
âHe keeps ending phone calls with âlove you.â Does he do that with you?â
âBob doesnât call me. He sends texts. Cryptic, horrible texts. Heâs a menace and a bad texter. Actually, most of the time I just get a thumbs up emoji or some shit like that. He calls you?â
âYes! Multiple times a week. And we talk.â
âYouâre fucking blind.â she stated simply. âAnd deaf.â
âI am not.â
âYou are too. The manâs got it as bad for you as you are for him. Heâs practically admitting itâactually he has admitted it multiple timesâand youâre over here whining about it.â She snorted and shook her head, scooping up more half-soggy cereal. âWoman up and go kiss him.â
âWhat?â you spluttered.
âYou want to.â
âItâs not a matter of if I want to.â
âMmhhmm.â she hummed, still engrossed in something on her phone. âAnyway, Iâm going to be out tonight after work. Donât wait up.â
âWhere are you going?â you asked, eyes narrowed. Was this why sheâd been on her phone lately?
âIâve got a date.â she shrugged. âMight end up going really well if you know what I mean.â
âWith Bradshaw?â Your mouth gaped. You never thought sheâd admit it. Nat leveled you with a glare.
âNo.â she gritted out. You watched her and decided you didnât believe her. Youâd definitely be checking her location later and texting Bob to see if he knew anything.
âSure.â
Twelve hours later, you had your answer. Bob was knocking on your door with a grimace. He had a backpack slung over his shoulder too.
âWhatâs up, Floyd?â you asked, leaning against the open door. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and readjusted the strap of his bag.
âSo, it seems like our roommates are âgetting busyâ and I need a place to sleep. Can I crash on your couch?â
âNo shit. Her and Bradshaw are doing it?â you gaped, and peeked your head out of the door as if youâd be able to hear them going at it. You werenât sure you wanted to anyway, but the vindication of being right was right there.
âDo you really need proof?â he asked weakly. âItâs, uh, pretty loud. Iâm not sure I can look her in the face again after what Iâve heard.â
âNah, I believe you. She said she had a hot date and she lied to me. Even turned off her location so I couldnât track her. Lying bastard.â You ushered him in and closed the door. He kicked off his shoes into the pile you had by the doorway. âAnyway, itâs still kind of early. Wanna watch something before you turn in?â
âSure, movie?â He dropped his backpack on the floor and flopped down on your couch like he lived there and you grinned as you collapsed next to him, nearly on top of him. The two of you settled in easily, right next to each other as you picked up the remote from the coffee table in front of you and turned on the tv.
âWhat do you want to watch?â You were already pulling up the dock of every streaming service you and Nat had commandeered from the team and your families.
âStar Wars?â Bob asked hopefully and you groaned.
âNo. If I have to watch Return of the Jedi one more time this month, I might lose it. You know I love it, but we need some variety in our lives, especially with that marathon weâre doing in like a week. How about we compromise?â
âAnd what exactly is a compromise in your book?â He quirked a brow at you and your gaze flickered down to his lips for just a moment until you stopped yourself and turned back to the screen in front of you.
âWhat about Big Hero 6?â You gestured to the screen with the remote. Bob blinked at it. âHave you never seen this?â
âI donât think I have.â He squinted at the screen and pushed his glasses further up on his nose. âWhat is that?â
âWell, you have no option now. Weâre watching this. Do you want tissues?â Your voice was innocent as you asked and he turned to look at you in confusion.
âDo I need tissues?â
âNevermind. Donât worry about it. Pressing play!â
About seventeen minutes in, Bob stared at the screen in horror.
âHow could you pick this?â He gaped, watching on as if it were a car crash he couldnât look away from.
âOh, keep watching. It gets worse.â you grinned.
âWorse than this? Dude, these people are sick.â He grunted, but settled in closer to you and dragged a blanket from beside him over your laps. Youâd seen it at least twice, so you knew what would happen, but it was fun hearing his little quips and comments about each scene. It was always fun watching movies with him.
Towards the end, you caught him. His eyes were glistening with unshed tears and you nudged him carefully.
âTissue?â
He shook his head and pulled you closer, causing your heart to start beating more rapidly. When had he reached an arm around you? Had you really been so comfortable that you hadnât noticed? Apparently.
You decided not to overthink it and laid your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat while the movie played on. It was close to the end and you knew the outcome, but he didnât and you listened to him sniffle for a second before you carefully tangled your legs closer together. Movie night had been significantly upgraded with this and you werenât sure you could go back.
As the credits rolled, you moved your head to look up at him and Bob smiled down at you.
âThat was good. And we are not going to talk about me crying.â he said sternly. Playfully. You laughed, the sound rolling over him in a delightful wave. His gaze slipped back down to your mouth and you found yourself doing the same thing, watching his lips like they were your favorite show.
Then, he did something brave and he brought his mouth down to meet yours. The hum you emitted was contented as you smiled into the kiss.
âTook you long enough, Floyd.â you murmured, reaching up to stroke a thumb along his jawline. He laughed quietly and leaned in again.
âWasnât sure if you were really interested. Rooster kept saying you were, but you know.â he mumbled between kisses. âBeen trying to tell you for weeks on the phone.â
âSo you really did mean to say âlove youâ at the end of all our calls?â
âYeah.â
âAnd are Bradley and Natasha really getting it on in your apartment or did you come over here with different motives?â Your eyes narrowed playfully and he pressed a quick kiss to your jaw that had you almost immediately forgetting what youâd asked.
âThey are. Itâs disgusting.â He answered. You groaned and climbed out of his arms, causing him to let out a noise of protest. âWhere are you going? I wasnât done with you yet.â
âIâm not done with you either, but if we stay on that couch then weâre both going to wake up with sore necks and bad backs. Câmon, Floyd. Iâm taking you to bed.â
âTo bed or to sleep?â
âTo sleep. We have to be up early for work, remember?â
Bob sighed and hauled himself up from the couch, picking up his backpack and stretching his arms in the process. Your brain almost shorted out at the view of his muscled arms and the stretch of skin at the base of his shirt where it rode up.
âBesides, Mavâs not allowed to kill you before I tell you I love you back.â you said nonchalantly as you stepped into your bedroom.
His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he heard the same words heâd been telling you for the past few weeks repeated back to him.
âNow, hang on.â he protested, following behind you. âYou canât just walk away after saying that.â
âThen you better hurry up and change and get into bed so I can tell you again and kiss you.â
Bonus:
Meanwhile, ten miles away at a local bar, Nat was looking down at her phone where your location and Bobâs were right on top of each other and grinned. She sent a quick text to her partner in crime, who was two doors down from the dots in question.
Trace: Mission accomplished. You can turn off the audio now.
Bradshaw: You sure you donât want to come over and make the sounds a reality?
Bradshaw: Floyd will be gone all night ;)
summary: days at the beach are common for the squad, but what happens when you reveal something underneath your cover-up that not even your boyfriend expects to see?
warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, unprotected sex, doggie (yum), fingering, thigh riding (double yum), semi-public sex (on da beach in his truck), hair pulling (fem receiving), reader is shorter/smaller than bob, (new) established relationship, reader has a tattoo, drinking contest mention, reader gets a little tipsy..., kinda shy!reader, no use of y/n
word count: 6.9k
a/n: i don't have tattoos but if i did, i would want my pilot bf to react like this. bob is soooo yum in this, i just love bf!bob so much. thank u for reading!!
masterlist
your call sign: lucky
The TOPGUN squad was an intimidating bunch. You had come into the group with wide eyes and clenched fists; it wasn't exactly the first thing you wanted to see from a renowned naval aviator.
Sure, you had graduated first in your class and picked up respect wherever you went, but nothing ever helped with the feeling of anxiety and dread that would fill your body during unknown social situations.
You remember the first day of training with Maverick. You had sat in the back, no one joining your table. You watched as the other pilots talked and shared looks with each other, like they had all known each other for years.
Coming into the military as a woman was hard enough, but by the end of your time at TOPGUN, you had soared above your commanding officer's expectations. During the last week of training, you got the order to become a reserve pilot for an upcoming mission. While you shook as you held the paper, your mentor patted you on the back and assured you that he had made the right recommendation and you would do just fine.
What no one had expected were the three enemy aircrafts that trailed after the team of aviators. You remember the buzz over your headset; you can still recall the words and how your heart jumped at the command.
"Reserve one, report to hanger one. Requesting immediate backup."
You remember how you flexed your fingers before steering in the direction of the take-off strip. How you breathed deeply as you pulled up into the air. How you didn't dare blink as you spotted the enemy aircrafts ahead of you.
You did your job right; it was evident in the way that two of the planes peeled off to come after you.
It truly was a dogfight once they circled around to surround your jet, but somehow you had managed to outmaneuver them, forcing them to eject.
Touching down on the tarmac, you were surrounded by cheers and hands grabbing at you. It was only natural that you landed the name Lucky from the senior pilots on the squad.
Still, now you were here. Surrounded by older pilots once again. No one from your class. No one you recognized.
It was the last round of training before the end of the day. You still hadn't flown yet. Instead, you watched as different teams walked to and from the tarmac, each coming back rubbing their arms and shoulders.
You had sat near a man with glasses, who had sent you a kind smile when you had first walked in. It seemed like the most logical choice to stay by his side for the majority of the day.
While you hadn't spoken to him, Bob watched you closely. You seemed nervous, but not unprepared. Your fingers bunched on your flight suit every few minutes, and you closed your eyes every time Maverick's voice rang out over the radio, announcing a kill.
Bob watched as you bit your bottom lip raw, the skin splitting in the middle by the afternoon. He told himself to look away, but couldn't help but be drawn back to the sight as you licked the now raw skin.
When Maverick called your name, along with Reuben "Payback" Fitch and Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia, you shot straight up from your seat. You shook both the men's hands as they smiled at you, but you didn't miss the look of disbelief they flashed each other when they thought you weren't looking.
"Alright, let's see what you got!" Maverick's voice crackled through the comms as you took a soothing breath in.
You cleared your throat before talking. "Um, Payback, Fanboy, stay at my six until we find Maverick. I'll watch north and east for the time being. Over."
"Copy that," a voice sounded as you began to circle the area.
This was good. This was great. You were doing well so far. You had a great team, and you trusted them. Well, you didn't know them, but still, you trusted them. That thought alone helped quell your nerves just a bit.
Down at the base, Jake laughed as your voice rang through the radio.
"Jesus, she sounds like a frightened baby deer. We should call her Bambi, not Lucky," he joked, earning a few hums and laughs from the other men in the room.
"Shut up, Bagman. She's been in the air all of five seconds," Phoenix defended.
This just made the man laugh harder. Nat shook her head and looked to her new WSO with a frown. But when she did, she spotted a scowl on the kind man's face.
"She'll be fine," Nat spoke quietly to him, but Bob just nodded as his face hardened further.
"I really don't like that guy," he confessed to Phoenix, earning a chuckle.
From your peripheral vision, you spotted a black blur. Something that sends full-body chills down your spine.
"Maverick spotted, four o'clock. Breaking into Delta Whisky formation. Over," your voice called out.
"Good catch, falling into formation now," Payback replied, following your jet closely.
Just a Maverick sped up to your right side, you and Payback fell back, cutting your engines, giving you a full view of Maverick's jet in front of your noses.
"Engage, engage," you ordered. Soon Payback's jet was breaking left while you curved right, surrounding Maverick.
But the older aviator pulled up before you could get a clean shot.
"Come on!" you groaned, wracking your brain for ways to catch Maverick off guard.
Suddenly, he was pulling the same maneuver on you, falling freely in the air and painting a target on your backs.
Without thinking, you pulled up into the air. The bright California sun in front of you, blinding you a bit.
"Whoa, Lucky, what the hell are you doing?" Fanboy called out as you continued to pull up.
"Drop back, don't lose sight of Maverick," you ordered, ignoring the tone of his voice.
Sure enough, Maverick took the bait, chasing after you. "Scared, Lucky? Didn't take you as someone who ran from danger."
His voice made you huff. The pressure made your skull sink further into the back of your seat and your breathing became more labored.
But just as quickly as Maverick had caught up to you, he had lost you all the same. The sun now glaring through his windshield.
The beeping of a tone sounded through his jet as he laughed.
"Clever, nice work," he told you, spotting your jet in his rearview.
Bob smiled brightly at you when you had touched back down on the tarmac. You hadn't quite met his eyes, but the little glances you sent his way were more than enough.
"Time to celebrate!" Payback called out, hands coming down to shake your shoulders. "Guess you are lucky after all."
àȘââŽ
You sit with Bob on a sandy blanket, watching the rest of the squad run around the beach and swim in the ocean. Leaning into his shoulder, Bob runs a soothing hand up and down your thigh.
"Having a good day?" he asks, sunglasses dipping as he looks at your flushed face. You weren't usually one to drink, but the watermelon margarita mix that Penny offered today made your eyes light up.
Bob laughs as you nod, sipping on your drink, eyes blinking lazily. It had to be your third drink of the day, something that made you pliable to his touch.
As his fingers comb through your hair, you hum, leaning closer into his touch.
When Maverick announced that you would be staying as a permanent fixture in San Diego, Bob had taken the opportunity to finally ask you out. He knew military relationships were hard, especially if you weren't stationed together. But this news, combined with the growing swell of emotions he had for you, pushed him to confess his feelings.
He had been a perfect gentleman since. Always opening the door for you and driving you both everywhere. As your relationship progressed, he started to break the physical barrier by guiding you through crowded areas with a warm hand on your back or pressing sweet kisses on your hairline when he saw you in the morning before training. It was new, but not unwelcome.
You had first bonded, truly bonded, when Maverick had taken the squad out to the beach to play football. When everyone around you began stripping their shirts off, your hands stayed glued to your sides.
"Not ready to get your first California sunburn?" a voice sounded next to you.
Whipping around, you saw Bob applying sunscreen across his arms, his fingers rubbing the white cream into the firm muscles.
"Something like that, yeah," you told him sheepishly, trying to look anywhere but his hands.
"Yeah, it's a bit intense. Here," he said, holding out the bottle, "I have more than enough to share."
Your fingers brushed his as you grabbed the bottle. "Thanks." You gave him a small smile as you began applying the creamy mixture to your arms and legs.
From there on, it seemed like Bob was always looking out for you.
You felt a little sluggish during training? He was by your side with a granola bar and a sports drink from the vending machine.
You ran out of your drink at the Hard Deck? He was handing you another without you having to ask.
You were anxious after a particularly hard day? He stood outside the locker rooms and walked you to your car, only letting you go home after you assured him you were okay.
But all these small moments spiraled into something more just a mere week after the uranium mission had ended.
Maverick and Penny hosted the squad for a celebratory barbecue, everyone bringing drinks and dishes to contribute to the large spread. Bob found you in the kitchen prepping with Penny, helping her plate things that were coming out of the oven and chop garnishes, even as she tried to shoo you away.
You had been laughing at something she said when the knife in your grasp slipped, coming down to draw blood from your finger.
He registered the look on your face before you could even wince, standing up from his place on the couch to make his way over to you.
Bob cradled your hand near his chest, inspecting it thoroughly before guiding you towards the guest bathroom. His large hand held yours as you ran it under the sink, warm water soothing the cut and washing away the blood.
"Will you sit?" he gestured towards the lip of the tub as he dug through Penny's cabinet for a first aid kit.
It wasn't until he settled between your legs, dropping to his knees so you wouldn't have to crane your neck to look at him, that you realized the position the both of you were in. His face was so close to yours, you could almost feel his breath fanning across your cheeks. One hand found your calf, fingers pressing lightly into the muscle to steady himself, while the other dug through the first aid kit to grab the right supplies. And his chest was pressed up against your knees, almost crowding you, but instead it felt like he was just trying to assure you that he was right there for you.
Like he sensed you looking at him, his eyes found you. You hadn't meant to, but your eyes dropped down to his lips for less than a second.
But it had been enough for Bob, who moved to hold your jaw in his strong hand. When you fluttered your eyes shut and began to lean into his touch, he pressed his lips against yours.
He felt you smile a few seconds into the kiss, something that made his heart beat wildly. With a squeeze to your waist, he pulled away reluctantly. When he saw the confused look on your face, he moved to stroke your cheek.
"Gotta clean this up first, okay? Then I'll give you another kiss."
His words made your cheeks flush, but you just nodded and let him work.
"Earth to Lucky, you okay, baby?" Bob's words snap you out of your memories.
"Yeah, sorry. Just thinking," you say, smile on your face as he nods and kisses your forehead lightly.
The day was like any other. Jake and Bradley are running circles around themselves, entertaining everyone on the squad. Phoenix and Javy are dipping their toes in the ocean while sipping on beers. Mickey and Reuben are tossing a football up and down the beach. And you and Bob are sitting and enjoying the sun and the slight breeze of salty ocean air.
"Alright, lovebirds, up and at 'em. Shirts and skins," Maverick calls from the water.
Bob grumbles at this. After telling you about the horrible burn he got his week stationed out in California, you haven't blamed him for not taking his shirt off, even if it did mean you missed out on seeing his toned body. You never took yours off either, but Bob had never pushed for the reason, instead always offering to double-check your sunscreen application. You always giggled at this, knowing it was an excuse for him to run his fingers up and down your body.
"Split up, you two. I don't want a repeat of last week," Maverick says as you approach the group.
"You should've instated a no-dating policy, Mav," Rooster teases, shit-eating grin on his face. The others laugh at the thought of last week's game when you and Bob had become too distracted with each other, leading to him being laid out on the sand as Javy plowed into him.
"Come over here, Lucky. Never lost a game with you on our team," Jake calls, wagging a finger in your direction, beckoning you over. You nod, not thinking much of it, tugging off your T-shirt to join the skins, leaving you in your denim shorts and bikini top.
As you line up, mentally preparing yourself for a game of football after three drinks, you meet Bob's eyes and smile immediately. Just as Jake is about to hike the ball, a voice calls out from behind you.
"Whoa, Lucky! I didn't know that was why you had your call sign."
Reuben's teasing didn't go unnoticed by the group, all of them sharing confused looks.
For a brief moment, blood rushes to your head as the comment sobers you up. Your hands slap to cover your lower back as you yelp and look in the man's direction.
"Lucky, what's wrong?" Bob calls out from across you. When you send him a panicked look, he immediately rushes over to your side.
"Wait a minute, Bob hasn't seen this either?" Reuben asks, almost doubling over in laughter now.
You snap over to look at him as Bob's hands find your hips. "No, Reuben! No one knows except my old squad. It was a dumb, drunk mistake. Just like this," you groan, hands still not moving from their position.
"Baby?" Bob asks in a low voice so only you could hear, genuine worry on his face as he looks to you for answers.
You look around and see the rest of the squad looking at you, too. It makes you want to crawl up into a ball right on the beach.
Meeting Bob's gaze again, he thinks you almost look scared. It's only further confirmed when you speak again, "Don't be mad, okay?"
He nods his head vigorously as you bite hard at your bottom lip. Finally, your hands drop, and you turn around to show him your now exposed back.
What he sees makes a furious blush spread up from his throat to his cheeks, painting him in a shade very close to cherry red.
A four-leaf clover surrounded with small ribbons and other smaller clovers covers a sliver of your lower back, right in between where your dimples rest. The ink in perfect contrast with your otherwise blank skin, grabbing his attention immediately.
You look over your shoulder to see his reaction and swallow when you see the open-mouthed look he's giving you, not even tearing his eyes away for a moment to meet your gaze.
Bob swallows hard.
The tattoo wasn't what shocked him.
Well, it was. A little.
But mostly it was the fact that after a few months of dating, countless mornings, movie nights, beach trips, and stolen kisses, he'd somehow never seen it.
"You have a tattoo?" he finally manages. His voice coming out much higher than intended.
The squad erupts.
"A tattoo?" Fanboy shouts.
"On Lucky?" Phoenix laughs, like she can't believe it's true.
"No way." Jake looks at you, downright delighted. "Oh, this is the best day of my life."
You groan at them, your stomach sinking further at their jests. "I hate all of you."
"No, no, no," Hangman says, pointing dramatically. "You don't get to drop a surprise lower-back tattoo into the middle of football and then act like we're the problem."
"Agreed," Rooster chimes in.
Before you can speak again, you're drawn to your boyfriend, who looks personally betrayed, not hiding his puppy dog eyes very well. "You didn't tell me."
You turn toward him with a nervous look. "It never came up."
His brows furrow at this, eyes immediately dropping back to the tattoo. "It definitely should've come up."
The redness spreading across his face only makes everyone laugh harder.
"Bob is malfunctioning," Phoenix announces, hand coming up to her eyes to wipe away the tears.
"I am not," he defends, still not looking anywhere but your skin.
"You've been staring at her back for thirty seconds," Bradley teases as the squad laughs in agreement.
"I have not," he mumbles quieter this time.
"Thirty-five now," Fanboy adds.
You bury your face in your hands. "Can someone please kill me?"
"Nope," Maverick says from the middle of the group. "This is too entertaining." The older pilot folds his arms and grins as you send him a look of disdain.
"So what's the story?" Jake asks, football now tucked neatly under his arm. The rest of the squad looks to you expectantly as you just shake your head.
"No."
"No? You can't say no! You've derailed our whole afternoon," Jake argues back.
"Or you could just act like it's any old tattoo. Is it really that big of a deal?" you sass back, eyes rolling at his ask.
"Is Lucky with a four-leaf clover tattoo on her lower back a big deal? Uh, yeah, I think so," Jake says, gesturing for everyone to agree with him.
When they do, you look to your boyfriend once more. His eyes find yours, and you silently plead for him to save you. Instead, he sends you a small look, shock still on his face.
"I'd like to hear this, too," he says as the squad whoops triumphantly. You narrow your eyes at the man, silently mouthing traitor as he looks as innocent as ever.
"Fine!"
The beach falls silent instantly at your voice.
You cross your arms, already bracing for more ridicule. "I was twenty-one."
Jake immediately doubles over laughing, "I already know this is going to be good."
"Shut it, Seresin!" you snap as he just laughs harder. "It was the night of my TOPGUN graduation. The squad I flew with earlier that week came out to celebrate me, and we may or may not have gotten a little tipsy."
"You mean drunk?" Bradley teases as you send him a death glare.
"Okay, yes, drunk." You put your hands up like you're being interrogated. "And we might have started a competition about who could drink the most in one sitting."
"But you're a lightweight," Bob says next to you as the squad laughs.
"Hey," you pout, not really defending yourself but still a little offended by his observation.
You huff before continuing.
"The loser had to get a tattoo chosen by everyone else."
The beach exploded.
"No!"
"Absolutely not."
"You lost?"
"I lost."
Jake nearly falls over, hands reaching out for support. "You're telling me Lucky got a lucky tattoo because she lost a competition?"
You cover your face, feeling your cheeks burn as you recall the night. "Yes."
The laughter becomes deafening at this. Maverick's laughing. Phoenix. Everyone. Even Bob.
Especially Bob.
"Oh my God," Bob wheezes.
"I hate you," you grumble as he tries to reach for your hand. Despite how you pull away from him, he refuses to let go.
"Baby," he calls, eyes pleading for you to look at him.
"No."
His grin softens at your stubbornness. "I think it's cute."
You narrow your eyes at the man. "You're lying."
"I'm really not." His ears immediately turn red again upon looking at the ink on your skin.
The squad notices, because of course they do.
"Oh, there it is," Fanboy shouts.
"Look at him go."
"He's red!"
"Leave him alone," you mutter, but finally laugh despite yourself. The tension slowly melting from your shoulders.
Bob squeezes your hand. Then he leans closer, close enough that only you can hear him. "I still can't believe you've been hiding that from me."
Your stomach flutters, eyes finding his. His stare is intense; it's akin to the same look he gave you last Wednesday night after you got done making out on his couch while trying to watch a movie. The memory and intention of his gaze make you nervous.
"It wasn't exactly important," you mumble, hands twitching in his hold.
His eyes drift briefly toward your lower back again before snapping upward. The movement is subtle.
Unfortunately not subtle enough, as Hangman catches it instantly. "Oh, he's looking again."
The squad erupts for a second time, whistling and calling out this time.
Bob groans, fingers squeezing yours as you giggle lightly. "Can you people not?"
"Nope," Hangman replies.
"Absolutely not," Rooster agrees.
Fortunately for you and Bob, Maverick chimes in again.
"Alright," he calls. "Now that we've all learned something new about Lucky today, can we finally play football?"
"Please," you beg as the squad laughs, but reassumes their formation.
But Bob looks at you for just a few moments longer.
For months, he'd been quietly taking care of you, bringing you drinks, walking you to your car, making sure you ate after long flights.
But somehow the thing that finally broke him wasn't a dangerous mission. It wasn't Maverick. It wasn't combat.
It was a tiny four-leaf clover tattoo.
When Bob searches for your eyes again, he finds you already looking at him.
Your smile is soft, and his expression immediately melts. The teasing around you fades into background noise.
"Still think it's cute?" you ask quietly.
His eyes flicker to the tattoo one last time. Then back to you. "Yeah."
The answer comes without hesitation, and your chest squeezes at the realization. "Even knowing I got it because I lost a drinking contest?" you test with a nervous look on your face.
A laugh escapes him, smile lines and crow's feet crinkling. "Especially because of that."
You roll your eyes, but still smile.
Bob leans close once more, "I think I'll have to take a closer look when we get home."
Heat floods your face instantly as he just watches you. "Oh my God," you squeak out.
His smile widens at this, like he knows exactly what he's doing to you.
Across the beach, Hangman points.
"There! Now she's red."
àȘââŽ
You go to grab the cooler sitting by the bed of Bob's truck, but before your hand can graze the handle, you feel your boyfriend's firm grasp on your lower tummy, tugging you in the opposite direction.
"Go sit in the car, I got it," he tells you, pressing a short kiss to the top of your head.
"Thank you, Bobby," you say, a small smile on your face as you move to climb into the passenger seat of his truck.
Despite the earlier teasing at the exposure of your tattoo, you settle into the stillness of the truck easily. It isn't until Bob joins you that you fully allow yourself to sink into the seat.
"Come 'ere, pretty," he says, opening his right arm as he starts the car. You slide over the open bench of the truck and tuck yourself into his hold.
Now leaning up against him, you close your eyes as his thumb rubs soothing circles into your shoulder. You hear the steady beating of his heart as you sit in the idling truck, the thumps calming you into a trance.
"Tired?" he asks as you nod your head, relaxing in his hold. "Let's just sit then. We can watch the sunset, then go home, how's that sound?"
"Perfect, Bobby," you mumble, hands going to wrap around his waist.
A cool chill had overcome the beach as the hours passed. Bob sees goosebumps creep up on your skin, from your arms to your tummy, the skin still exposed ever since this afternoon.
"Baby?" he asks, voice rising like it had earlier that day. The sound of it makes you sit up.
"Are you okay?" Your hand comes up to his face, holding it softly.
He nods, turning his head so he can kiss the inside of your palm. "Can I see it? Now that it's just us?"
Sure enough, the rest of the squad had pulled out of the parking lot, leaving you and Bob to watch the sunset in peace.
You blush at your boyfriend's request, but still pull away from him and turn your back towards him.
His hands find your lower back quickly, fingers tracing the delicate lines of your tattoo. One hand settles on your waist while the other continues to lightly rub your skin. You hear his breathing hitch slightly as he moves the denim fabric of your shorts down a little to get a better look.
Your fingers move towards the buttons at your front and you shimmy off the denim, dragging the fabric down your legs.
"Better?" you ask innocently. Bob's glad you don't look back at him now; surely you would see the goofy look on his face and laugh a bit.
For now, all he wanted was to take you all in, uninterrupted. No Jake or Bradley in his ear, teasing him, no Phoenix sending him looks, and no you, with your pretty gaze and soft smile. He couldn't take it.
Now he sees the swell of your ass from your bikini bottoms, your cheeks pressed up against the leather of his truck, criminal. The flimsy ties on your hips sit pretty, like they're waiting for someone to undo them. Suddenly, his eyes are tracking over your backside too, not just your once-hidden tattoo.
"Jesus, baby," he says, hands traveling further down to play with the shiny fabric of your bottoms. Bob feels himself strain a bit in his swim trunks.
As his fingers travel lower and lower, you can't help but arch away from his touch, pushing your hips back into the man's touch.
Now you look over your shoulder and see his mouth open, and his eyes blink quickly.
"Bobby," you call his name, and his eyes find you, gaze lazy but alert all at once.
"Come 'ere," he says once again, this time patting his thigh. Just as you're about to straddle his lap, his hands correct your hips, turning you so you're facing the sunset and leaning over the steering wheel.
You look back in confusion, but Bob just moves in to kiss you sweetly, stealing all the words from your throat.
"You said you wanted to watch the sunset, so watch," his voice is low now, like it was earlier on the beach. "Need a closer look, is that okay?"
Your tummy turns at his question, and you find yourself pressing into the firm muscle of his thigh, hips coming down to roll on the ridges.
Bob huffs at this and reaches for the strings of your bottoms, pulling the fabric out of the way completely, leaving you bare on his thigh. His hands find your ass, fully palming you now, squeezing the fat there.
"So pretty, you know that, Lucky?" he asks, one hand now traveling across your soft, warm skin to rest on the top of your inner thigh. Fingers are dangerously close to where you need them.
Just as you're about to answer, you feel his lips descending on your neck, pressing hot, wet kisses across the skin. You squirm even more at this, hands gripping the wheel until your knuckles go white.
"So wet against me, haven't even touched you," he teases, breath hot by your ear, as you whine.
"Need your touch, please," you beg, hips canting against his thigh once more until his hands still you into place.
"Want my fingers?" he asks as his left hand goes to slip further down from your thigh to your heat.
"Yes, yes," you plead, throwing your head back against him, leaving your throat completely exposed for him as you arch once more in his hold.
Bob dips his mouth to the front of your neck now, nipping rather than just sucking and kissing. At the same time, his thumb finds your bundle of nerves within seconds, pressing little circles of pressure against it.
"Keep moving against me, baby, I'll help you," he tells you, right hand coming to help your hips move back and forth against his thigh.
Your now pebbled nipples rub against the thin fabric of your bikini, making you whine at the feeling of the sensitive skin bouncing up and down a bit. Seeming to have no trouble moving your hips onto your boyfriend's muscle, his hand comes up your front and begins to play with the strained nipples over your top.
"Bobby, please," you cry out. Immediately, he takes one of your tits into his large palm and squeezes the fat. The rough moment makes your hips jerk, but they don't stop moving.
You yelp as he sucks at an especially sensitive part of your neck, eyes rolling back and closing as you let yourself become consumed by him.
The circles on your clit become tighter, and you can feel your boyfriend flex the muscles in his thigh with your movements. The string in your tummy begins to wind tighter and tighter.
One particular firm press at your core makes you tense up and fall apart on Bob's lap as he continues to suck at your neck and pinch at your tits.
As soon as the shakes in your thighs begin to settle, Bob moves his hand from your wet core to splay it across your tummy, tugging you back into him. As you settle on his lap, you feel the large bulge digging into your back, something that makes you whine in his hold.
Your hands leave the steering wheel, fingers are a bit cramped, but you still go to reach behind you and fiddle with the string of his swim trunks.
"Need more," you say breathlessly as he huffs into your neck.
"Yeah, yeah, you sure?" His hand come up to your jaw, turning it so he'll be able to see your face. When he does, he sees a fucked out look on your face, eyes batting sweetly and tongue coming out to wet at your lips. The sight makes him groan as he grips your face tighter and bring you into a heated kiss.
His tongue works to push into your mouth, and once you part your lips, he licks into your mouth like it's his first time tasting someone else's spit.
Your hands don't stop moving, though, and finally, you free him from his shorts, pushing the fabric down his hips as much as you can.
From here, Bob lifts your hips up and settles you on all fours on the bench of his truck. By now, the sun is long gone, and he can only see the ink of your tattoo when the moonlight catches on your body.
The sight of your dripping cunt, hanging out in the air for him, makes him all but rip the shorts off his legs as he moves to come up behind you. He can see your core swell and push against nothing, the slickness collecting on your inner thighs painting a pretty picture for him.
"Sorry, baby, I just can't help myself," he says as he dips a finger in your entrance, making your back arch and ass press into him even further. As you do so, you can feel his throbbing length against your ass cheek, jumping and rubbing into you as he stretches you out on his fingers.
Soon enough, he pushes in another finger, curling them into you at a slow pace that makes you crave more.
Sensing your dwindling patience, he bends over your frame until his mouth is by your ear. "Just getting you ready for me, okay?"
You nod at this, not trusting your voice anymore. Before he pulls up again, he brushes your hair and tucks it behind your ear, placing a sweet kiss on the crown of your head.
The kiss is sweet, but the way his fingers pump in and out of your heat is anything but. Your muscles squeeze against him, and each time it happens, you feel his hips grind into you. His member now flush with your body as he rubs himself against you at the same rhythm of his fingers.
"Please," you whine out again, and you feel his fingers leave your entrance. Now, you feel a firm hand on your lower back, thumb rubbing where your tattoo is. The other hand guides his member towards your entrance, pushing in slowly.
Bob feels your warm heat envelope him, the ridges and veins on his dick being pressed perfectly against your walls. "Oh, fuck, baby," he says as you pulse around him, not even halfway in yet.
"Feels good," you whine, pushing your hips back against him, swallowing more of him.
"Gonna hurt yourself, baby. Slow down," he groans, no real push back in his voice as he bottoms out, hips now pressed against the globes of your ass.
"Please, Bobby," you plead again, head moving to look back at the man.
He whines, seeing the look on your face. To think you were such a shy, meek thing around everyone, and now you're pushing back on his dick, begging him to fuck you into the seat of his truck.
Bob tears the T-shirt off his body before moving. On hand coming to the hem and raising it above his body, giving you a view of his abs and biceps all in one go.
His other hand roams down your back to the pretty little bow of your bikini top. You feel him fiddle with it for a minute, almost like he's contemplating whether or not he should untie them. But ultimately, he pulls the strings and lets the top fall onto the seat beneath you.
Within seconds, his hand attaches itself to your tit, rolling your nipple in his hand. The other goes back to its place on your lower back, thumb pressing into your ink. And finally, he reels his hips back and pushes into you.
You both moan at the feeling, his tip finding a deep part of you as you arch further into his hold. Soon he finds a steady rhythm, pushing his length in and out of you as you squirm underneath him.
There are so many things to look at, from the way your face presses into the leather to the way your ass bounces against his hips as he thrusts into you. But again and again, he finds himself looking at the little clover on your backside. The ink is something so foreign on your otherwise unmarked skin.
If you had asked him a few hours ago, Bob would have never expected you to have a tattoo, let alone one in this spot. But then again, he wouldn't have expected you to lull your tongue out and push your hips into his as he fucked you for the first time.
Both things were exhilarating, making his heart race and his thrusts pick up in pace, something you seemed to be a fan of as you whine underneath him.
He knows he should've laid you out on his bed, taken care of you, really taken care of you, not just let you grind against his thigh and finger you until you were whimpering under him. He should've kissed all over your body, let his mouth find your core, tasted you.
But every time he caught a glimpse of the delicate tracing of your tattoo, he felt himself reel all over again.
Bob had to have you like this, bent over and pressed into the seat of his truck. Back on full display to him, muscle and sweet skin exposed.
Still, he felt a little guilty that he let it happen like this. Couldn't even get home before he started reaching for you and thinking about your tattoo.
Instead of dwelling on the fact for any longer, he allowed himself to feel your wet heat, feel how it squeezed against him. His hand left your now raw, sensitive nipples in search of your clit, thumb wanting to find it once more to make you come again.
"So fucking good, so good, Lucky," he groans, hips slapping harsher against you as he finds your sweet spot once again.
You try to keep your eyes open, try to look at him and the blissed out expression on his face, but as soon as his thumb makes contact with your bud again, your eyes roll back into your head, and you sink into the leather underneath you.
"Warm and pretty, all for me, huh?" he asks, thumb pressing firmer, tighter circles into your clit.
Nodding, all you can do is whine at his words. The way his hand pushes on your lower back, arching you further into his hold, makes his length find a home in your heat in the best way possible.
His body comes down to yours like earlier; now you feel his rigid muscles moving against your back. The hand that was on your back gathers your hair into a sloppy ponytail as he tugs you up to his face.
"Need a kiss, please, baby," he whines, hips snapping into you at a brutal pace. Still, you can tell he's close, his body covers yours, humping into you like he has something to prove.
You nudge his nose and pucker your lips. Suddenly, he's diving in, sucking at your lips, firm and searing kisses pressed into your mouth. At the feeling of his thumb tapping against your clit, your mouth opens, giving him the perfect opportunity to capture your tongue and suck. Spit mixes and drips down your chin as you begin to shake in his hold.
Again, the thread snaps in your tummy. His length moves in you, not letting up, helping you through your climax. Bob's mouth kisses around your face, hand still gripping your hair so he can reach your cheeks, forehead, and chin with his mouth.
Soon, you feel him spill into you, groaning against your mouth. The warmth seeps into your tummy, and you find yourself wanting to curl further into his hold.
Bob heaves against your back as he works to the end of his climax. Snaking a hand around your waist, he takes you from your spot on the bench and instead plants you on his lap upright.
His arms squeeze around you as his head dips in between the softness of your neck, laying sweet kisses there.
"Are you okay? It wasn't too rough, right?" he asks, hands tracing your skin in a way that makes you shiver.
"Felt so good, I promise," you say, nudging his nose once more and leaning in for a soft kiss.
"Good, good." Bob wraps around, warm body cradling yours.
"Maybe I should get another tattoo and not tell you. I think I could relive that over and over again," you tease as he laughs into your skin, both of you still feeling a bit loopy from your pleasure.
"One surprise tattoo is enough for a lifetime," he says, tightening his arms around you.
You smile against him as the faint light from the moon dances across his features; even now, you see the teasing look he gives you.
"I was really convinced you'd be upset," you confess, the quietness of the car almost swallowing your words.
But instead, Bob pulls back to look at you. "Upset?"
"About the tattoo."
A look of genuine confusion crosses his face. "Why would I be upset?"
You shrug. "It was a stupid drunk choice, doesn't exactly scream responsible naval aviator."
Bob stares at you for a moment, like he can't believe the words coming out of your mouth.
Then he reaches forward and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
"You flew into a combat zone to back up a team that was outnumbered."
Your eyes drop.
He continues anyway.
"You graduated at the top of your class. You're the best pilot I know."
A small smile pulls at his lips.
"I think you're allowed one stupid tattoo."
A laugh escapes you. "Just one?"
"One," he confirms, nodding his head, but the smile on his face says otherwise.
"You're very generous," you tease, leaning in to kiss his lips again.
He groans into the kiss, pressing deeper, like he can't get enough of you. "I know," he whispers as you laugh.
Suddenly, your tattoo doesn't feel so stupid anymore.
I was tagged by my darling friend @anon-188!!! Rain how lucky am I that the journey of this past year brought me to you, this space wouldnât be the same without you and your light.
one whole year in this magical community and I canât believe how lucky I am to be a small piece of it! I have met some of the kindest people ever here. Happy birthday James Gunn Clark Kent you will always be famous (and hung)
áŻâ First fic
Afternoon Delight (a Super Professional Lunchbreak)
You and Clark find a private spot to share your break (spoiler alert: you donât eat lunch)
áŻâ Most recent fic
By a thread
Clark Kentâs self control is a tenuous thing. Itâs pulled tight inside of him, edges fraying from stress as years of want push at its seams. Just like the strap of your dress, itâs holding on by a thread.
áŻâ Most popular fic
I get wet at the thought of you (being a responsible guy)
Clark Kent, starring as the lamb. He has more than one pillow, calls his mom (but not too much), isnât afraid to buy you tampons, and thinks about your needs like itâs second nature. You, starring as the lioness. In your opinion, his thoughtfulness is more effective than any other foreplay. Inspiration from Tears by Sabrina Carpenter
áŻâ Personal favs
Turn the Volume Up
alternatively: you and Clark find a solution to a never ending string of noise complaints
Gentle when be wants to be
âDo you think about it?â You ask.
"All the time." He answers, because above all else, Clark Kent is a man of honor and men of honor don't lie.
However, despite all that honor, Clark Kent is still just a man.
"Do you?" He asks.
You take another step, ruining his efforts and bringing you even closer than before.
"Every night." You whisper. You lean closer, just enough to let the fabric of your shift brush his uniform.
Save the world (or go to work)
Armed with dimples and a hero complex, Clark Kent has taken it upon himself to drive you insane. Heâs always there, on the radio, in the breakroom, and in your mind. Despite your very sound reasoning for not dating him, he refuses to take no for an answer. Will a close call change everything or will your fears get the better of both of you?
summary: you and eddie host an afterparty. 2k words.
warnings: reader likes to drink and is fairly drunk in this chapter. suggestive content as per usual (and especially so in this installment), so minors please do not interact!
a/n: i'm always open to suggestions for this series, so feel free to send me any ideas, prompts, or situations you'd like to see these besties put into đ
series tag here!
ââââ ââ đżâ â âââââ
The apartment is as full as it's ever been.
Mostly with Eddieâs friends. Not that most of Eddieâs friends arenât yours too, but itâs a much different atmosphere than the smaller get-togethers youâve hosted, mostly with girls from work and regulars at the salon. On those occasions, Eddie has a tendency to hide in his room, cautious of the rampant, gossipy interest that would have them descending on him like a pack of lions upon a sickly jackal if he stays in plain sight for too longâdesperate to know more about the handsome, mysterious âroommateâ that hangs off your arm in practically every story you have to tell.
Tonight is decidedly warm, laid-back, and filled to the brim with laughter. Drinks abound, snacks even more so, the new Metallica record spinning in the background at a sensible purr. Jeff brought it, you think, or maybe Hal, or Allisonâyouâre a little too buzzed to remember. Itâs a bit of a special occasion. This evening was Corroded Coffinâs last show of the year, and afterwards, the band and a handful of its supporters made their way to your apartment. Earlier this afternoon, you and Eddie went on a grocery run in preparation, stocking up on snack and drink and booze requestsâgoing just a little overboard on the latter.Â
Itâs Eddieâs fault, really. Heâs a total enabler. Liquor's always been your poison, but you know how to keep it classy. A glass of cheap wine with dinner now and then, no more than two drinks when you go out with the girlsâusually. Itâs only with Eddie and the promise he brings of safety and doting that you start to hear that little devil in your ear, convincing you to let your hair down and live a little. When he caught you sneaking another pack of those wine coolers you like so much into the cart, piled on top of what was already more than enough alcohol to accommodate the ten-odd people that would be in attendance, he dropped straight into Wayne-modeâan instinctive, ever-endearing mimic of his uncleâs gruff parenting that occasionally overcomes him when you're doing something naughty.Â
He scolded âHey!â and tried to slap you on the wrist. âPut that back.â
âI donât wanna,â you argued, shedding your maturity accordingly. You like it when he gets all stern.
He raised his eyebrows pointedly, eyeing you with an unusual lack of humor. âWeâve got more than enough here already,â he insisted. âYou act like Iâm made of money.â
âWhy else should I keep you around?â
By the look on his face, he was one more strike away from bending you over his knee. You smiled your brightest smile and wrapped both arms around one of his.Â
âI'm kidding, Eddie, baby,â you assured him. He mightâve thought he was footing the bill entirely, but youâd find some way to force your half into his possessionâeven if it meant hiding it in one of his drawers or a pair of discarded pants to make him think heâd misplaced it himself. âI just want a few extra to keep in the fridge, is all.â
He tilted his head at you, exasperatedâseeing right through your little act, your blinking, angelic eyesâbut ultimately gave in. Heâs weak for you and you both know it, and even when he pretends to be annoyed and inconvenienced (the mild concern is typically authentic), Eddieâs never shrunk away from babysitting duty. You can see right through him, too. He might enjoy it even more than you do.
And now, your master plan is pretty close to completion. As the dutiful co-host that you are, you waited until everyone was settled inâspread throughout kitchen and living room, drinks in hand and snacks on displayâbefore even popping the lid on your first bottle. And the lovely, horrible influences that are Allison, Beth, and Scooter cheered you on tirelessly until the last drop of your fourth rolled easily down your throat and your inebriated mind began, as it usually does, to lust for the company of your favorite boy.
Eddieâs been planted on the couch for as long as he's been convinced to stop buzzing around like the hyperactive service worker that he is and take a load off.
You lean yourself against the wall just outside the kitchen, head tilted askew, watching him tell his cute little story with his cute little face. He goes on and you let him, chewing on your nail as you wait until he finishes, and his friends laugh, and he looks so comfortable and confident basking in the energy and taking a lazy swig from his beer that it makes you wanna squish the crap out of him.
âEddie,â you call out to summon his attention, drawn out and fluctuating leisurely in pitch.
He glances in your direction and then breaks out in a gleaming smile, resettling himself on the couch, straightening his spine. âOh, there she is,â he murmurs with affection, and he knows exactly what youâre looking for. He smacks both palms down on his wide-spread thighs a couple times and then opens his arms eagerly, flicking his fingers in encouragement. âCome to daddy!â
With a delirious giggle, you take off towards him, skirting precariously around the coffee table and, intentionally or otherwise, you crash-land straight into his lap.
âJesus,â he breathes out with a laugh like you knocked the wind out of his lungs. He keeps his arms up as you awkwardly make yourself comfortable, waiting until youâre settled to drape them securely around you. âThere you go. Nice and tipsy, now, arenâtcha?â
âIâm really tipsy, Eds.â
âYeah, you are.â He gives you a crinkly smile and a nice little pat on the butt. âSure smells like it.â
Humming pleasedly, you wrap clumsy arms around his neck and rest your cheek against his head. âYouâre so comfy, yâknow that? I dunno why I donât sit on you all the time.â On impulse, you smush a kiss into his hair, and then snuggle in even deeper, sniffing that nice conditioner youâve bullied him into sharing with you. Itâs a good thing you did, tooâhis hair is like velour against your cheek.
Eddie giggles at all the affection, tugging lightly to readjust your arms. âYouâre kinda smothering me, sweet pea.â
âWhat the hell did he do to deserve this?â That was Garethâs voice, you think, and it makes you giggle.
âItâs just what happens when youâre in a band,â Eddie explains to his bandmate, smug as can be. âDrives âem wild, yâknow? Canât beat her off me with a stick.â
To prove his point, you push back to grab his face and plant a big, wet kiss on his smiley cheek. You can tell that it startles him but he suppresses it, smiling even wider, the skin beneath your glossy lipstick print turning pink. He's so goddamn cute, you could eat him for dinner.
It builds up suddenly into a bout of violent affection and you can't resist the urge to wrap your arms around him even tighter and squeeze. Eddie's eyes blow open wide just before his face smashes into your chest, and the collision muffles his cry of alarm. Almost immediately, he starts to struggle cartoonishlyâshaking and thrashing his limbs like you're suffocating him, his smothered grunts and groans buzzing ticklish against your skin and making you cackle, but eventually, with absolute instancy, he goes limp.
â...Uh oh,â you say as you release him, watching him slump back against the couchâeyes closed, mouth hung open. You poke him in the cheek a couple times to no response and throw a glance towards Jeff on the other end of the couch, stifling another giggle. â...I think he died.â
âFinally,â Jeff quips. âI got first dibs on Sweetheart.â
Before you can ask if he means you or the guitar, Eddie suddenly reanimates with a deep, booming roar that morphs into the words, âOver my dead body!â and it catches you so off guard that you jump out of your skin with a squeal.
âEddie!â you shriek in outrage. You stretch your hand over his face and give it a vigorous shake in retaliation, and he accepts the punishment for a few seconds before gently tugging your wrist away.
âSorry, babe,â he says, definitely not sorry at all and also totally laughing at you. âI had to safeguard my personal property.â
As the chatter goes on, a little beyond your faculties to really participate in, you busy yourself with bothering your chaperone. The problem is, Eddie adjusts to all of it seamlessly, keeping up with the conversation, telling entire stories unphased even as you climb all over him like a koala, playing with his hair, his ears; tugging and folding his shirt collar, poking and pinching all over his face, rubbing your cheek into him like a cat. He even has the presence of mind to sporadically tug your overly-tight skirt down to prevent any wardrobe malfunctions. Itâs hilarious, but also sort of infuriating. Youâre sitting pretty in his lap, slathering him with all the attention he practically begs you for most of the time, and heâs hardly giving you an ounce in exchange.
Thankfully, in this time of desperate need, your inebriated mind comes up with the perfect remedy. Giggling to yourself, you brush his hair out of the way, nuzzle your way into his warm, defenseless neck, and plant your mouth on him in a messy, feverish kiss. Eddie trips over his words at the feeling, and you giggle again at your own mischief before latching onto him, sucking on his pulse point like a hungry vampire.Â
He stiffens beneath you from head to toe, choking out a series of undignified little noises punctuated by an awkward chuckle. âOh-kay, alright, thatâsâ Sweetheart, we have company.âÂ
A couple others laugh too; someone does a wolf-whistle. Humming your delight, you only suck harder, and Eddie stifles an odd grunt. He tries to ease your mouth away from him, and the gentle pressure of his hands has you digging your teeth into his skin even harder.
At first, he tries to just do it againâadjust and adapt. But the feeling of it must be too distracting, all-consuming, and, just as you hoped, it forces him to withdraw from the conversation as well.
âOw,â he complains, now well and truly squirming beneath you; trying to keep his voice down within your little bubble. âYou'reâ That actually kinda hurts. Ohâ Okay, I got it, message received. You're feelingâ fuckâ neglected, sâthat right?âÂ
âMhm,â you hum into his skin.Â
âI'm sorry,â he says, pushing at you a little harder. âI swear, you have my fullâ Jesus, my full attention, now, honey, so if you would please justââ
Finally, you detach from him with a wet pop so loud that your chest swells with pride. You reel back to survey the damage and your eyes bug out of your head.
âOh no.â You raise your hands to cover your mouth as you meet his questioning stare.
âChrist,â Eddie hisses, retracting one hand to poke at his wound. âWhat, is it bad?â
It really is. You've left a deep, dark splotch on his hopelessly pale neckâa perfect impression of your mouth, indented with teeth marks, already looking purplish.Â
âYou're gonna be so mad at me,â you say, shaking with laughter.
The glare on his face couldnât even scare a toddler. âI'm already mad at you.â
âNo, you're not,â you insist, chewing on your lip in mischief. And leaning in beside his ear, in your best whisper, you tease: âI think youâreâŠa little bit happy to see me.â
You aren't totally sure it's him you're feelingâthat little hint of pressure beneath your thighâbut pulling back and watching Eddie's face go taut and authentically annoyed confirms it. Oh, yeah. You're gonna be in huge trouble this time.
âS'okay,â you assure him with a wide, self-satisfied smile, patting him consolingly on his chest. â...It's natural, Eddie, and I won't tell anybody.â Ignoring his red-cheeked scowl, you place your hand on his cheek and give it a light shove that makes him click his tongue. âPut your face over here.âÂ
âWhat now?â
âI gotta do the other side, so it's even.â
He can't get another word out before you dive right back in, pressing your mouth to the other side of his neck, feeling his pulse pound against your lips, and his fingers squeeze a dull ache into your hips.
âOh, Jesus fucking Christ.â
-
thanks for reading! feedback is always welcome đ if you liked my story, please like/comment/reblog!
summary:Â in which you and steve have the brilliant (and slightly insane) idea to try to get your bosses to date because maybe itâll make your jobs and lives easierÂ
warnings:Â modern!au, explicit language, one too many clueless references, drinking/alcohol mentions (drunk!reader and drunk!steve moment toward the end)
note: i didnât expect this to become as long as it did but here we are now<3 set it up nation please rise! this is very much inspired by that movie (that is in fact one of my favorites) and i was rewatching it a few months ago and it made me want to do something similar-ish. enjoy<333
UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: i bet you ten bucks my night is going worse than yoursÂ
YOU: thatâs definitely impossible so i will happily take that bet and your moneyÂ
UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: remember how iâve been doing toddâs sonâs science project for the past week?
YOU: yeah because the kid sucks at science
UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: i finally finished it and gave it to todd today. he hated it and ripped it to shreds right in front of my face (i kinda blame this dumbass juice diet heâs on for him being much more of an asshole than usual). anyway, now iâm gonna have to spend all night doing a new projectÂ
YOU: holy fuck
YOU: you win
UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: i would like cash pleaseÂ
UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: what bullshit are you being subjected to right now?Â
YOU: at 8 kristen said she didnât want dinner because she wasnât going to be âstaying late tonight.â and then twenty minutes ago she asked me where her dinner was and gave me the most annoyed look when i said i didnât have itâŠ.
YOU: now iâm waiting in the lobby for a delivery guy to get here with pasta :)
UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: ouch
UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: want some company down there?
YOU: are you just asking that because you want your money?
âThe jokeâs on you because I donât have ten bucks right now, so youâll have to wait until tomorrow for your money,â You told Steve when he walked into the lobby.Â
âI was lying. I donât care about the money. I really came down here to keep you company,â He said as he joined you by the front door.Â
You couldnât help but roll your eyes at him. âOh, whatever.â
He only smiled at you. âSo, how much longer until the delivery guy gets here?â
You took another look at your phone and then showed it to Steve. âLess than a minute. His carâs down the street.â
âHow annoyed is Kristen?â
âShe got pulled into a Zoom call with the team in LA right after scolding me, so Iâm ninety-five percent sure she hasnât noticed Iâm gone yet.â
âThatâs good.â
âIs Todd gone for the night?âÂ
You kind of had a feeling that you already knew the answer to your question because Steve looked more relaxed than normal; his white button-up shirt was untucked from his nice black dress pants and the tie that was around his neck and tucked under the collar of his shirt was loosened too.Â
âYeah, he left right after destroying the science project.â
You shook your head in disbelief. âI still canât believe that happened.â
Steve let out a tired sigh that you were certain wouldnât be his last of the night. âWhatâs another suitable project for a fifth grader?â
âSorry, but Iâm not brushed up on the current fifth-grade education system,â You joked, giving him a teasing smile. When he didnât match it, you held up your hands in mock surrender. âOkay, sorry, Iâll save all my jokes for when this is no longer a problem for you.â
His lips twitched upward in the smallest amused smile. âHow many do you have?â
âOh, a full stand-up set pretty much, but Iâll save it for tomorrow,â You said, trying to make your voice sound as serious as possible.Â
He smiled wider then and seeing him look at least a little less stressed felt like a success in your book. You knew that he wouldâve done the same for you if the roles were reversed in this moment, and there were many times when he had done the same. Made a joke when you didnât even know you needed to hear one, but it still made your day better, or told you a random story about nothing when you needed a breather from thinking about work.Â
This friendship you two had made your job feel a thousand times more bearable, and you were so glad that you met him eight months ago. That abrupt introduction had been another middle-of-the-night lobby situation like this one; when it seemed like everyone in the building was done and gone for the day, except for you two and your workaholic bosses. Both of you were waiting for meals from the same diner, which you didnât even realize until your separate delivery drivers almost mixed up the orders. It was a mix-up that was luckily fixed before it descended into a bigger issue with your respective bosses.Â
You two ended up talking a lot on the elevator ride up to your floors and found out just how much you two had in commonâ both of you being assistants to insane bossesâ and the rest was history.Â
âThank you. Thatâs very considerate,â Steve said to you now, placing a dramatic hand over his heart, which made you laugh.
Before you could say something to keep this playful banter going, you noticed the car pulling up in front of the building. You met the delivery guy halfway and let out a quick âThanksâ when he handed over the food to you. You did a quick look through of what was in the bag and smiled in relief when you saw that everything was there.Â
âHow long do you think youâre gonna have to stay tonight?â Steve asked you on the elevator ride back up.Â
âNo idea,â You took a look down at your phone. âSheâll probably eat this once her Zoom call ends in thirty minutes, and then hopefully want to leave for the night.â
âNice, then youâll actually be able to get more than four hours of sleep.â
âFingers crossed.â
The elevator came to its stop on the fifteenth floor and the doors opened, which marked your cue to leave.Â
You took a few steps and then turned around to face Steve again, giving him a quick wave. âGood luck tonight, Harrington.â
âThank you. Iâm gonna need it,â He responded, waving back as the doors finished closing.Â
You avoided looking at all of the empty cubicles that took over the space in the officeâ desks that had been left hours agoâ and simply went to your desk that sat right outside Kristenâs office. You could faintly hear her talking through the shut glass door.Â
You used the downtime to busy yourself with random work rather than doing anything remotely interesting or simply taking a break and doing nothing. You double-checked what Kristenâs calendar schedule looked like for the next few weeks and made sure that everything was in order, and then you went to your work email although nothing new had come in in the last thirty minutes.Â
When the time hit 10:03pm and you heard the door open and then saw Kristen walk out, you stood up from your chair and grabbed the bag with the food off your desk.Â
âHi, I have your dinner here.â
She gave you a confused look and it was then that you noticed that her coat was on and her purse was hanging on her shoulder. âI donât want that. It was supposed to be an early night, remember? Iâll see you in the morning.â
You nodded immediately at her words instead of doing anything else. You, of course, did not tell her that she had asked you to get her food, and you of course definitely did not ask her if ten oâclock could really be considered an âearly nightâ given that the night was pretty much already halfway done and it was basically Friday.Â
Nope, you didnât say any of that, because even though Kristen was nothing but contradictory at times, which made your job absolutely suck, you still liked having one at the end of the day.Â
âOkay, got it. See you tomorrow,â You told her, forcing a smile.Â
She nodded at you and then her eyes fell to her phone as she walked off.Â
You let out a tired sigh once you were certain she was out of earshot and then sat down once again. You couldâve grabbed your own jacket and bag and followed suit, leaving for the night and getting more than four hours of sleep just as Steve had mentioned and you had crossed your fingers in the elevator hoping it would happen.Â
However, you didnât slip on your coat or reach under your desk to grab your bag. Instead, you pulled out your phone.
You and Steve stared at the blank tri-fold poster board as you two ate the Alfredo pasta that had been meant for Kristen.Â
The idea for the project had already been decided; it was some sort of chemical reaction thing, seeing how food coloring and dish soap react to being put in different types of milk. Steve showed you a video about it and it actually seemed really cool.Â
After finishing the pasta, doing the experiment itself took less than thirty minutes because everything you needed for it was luckily spread about both of your break rooms and then it was just a matter of typing everything up and making the poster board look nice.Â
âSo, where does this situation lie on the worst things Todd has ever made you do? Is it breaking the top three?â You asked as you stood next to the printer on Steveâs desk and he typed away on his laptop.Â
âDefinitely,â He didn't hesitate to answer. âI think this takes the third spot that was previously held by him making me drive to the airport two hours away to pick up his mom.â
âFuck, I always forget about that,â You told him. âIf we knew each other when that happened a year ago, I wouldâve happily gone with you. I love a long car ride.âÂ
âAnd I wouldâve definitely taken you up on that offer because that was the worst drive ever.â
âGod, how did you survive before we knew each other existed eight months ago?â You asked jokingly and hearing his initial laugh in response made you smile.Â
âIt was really hard, I honestly donât know how I managed,â He responded playfully, making you smile wider. âHas your top three with Kristen changed recently?âÂ
âNope, the third is the cheese incident, the second is the dog thing, and the first is still all of the shit I had to do the day she interviewed her favorite director for the website.â
You still considered that the worst day you ever had being Kristenâs assistant. She had wanted to make sure that everything was perfect for that interview she had been working for months to get with the infamous Matt Scott, so you had gotten stuck with doing a bunch of tedious tasks. It was still hard for you to look at Skittles and not feel immediate disdain because you had to sort through so many packs of them that day since he weirdly only liked the red and yellow ones.Â
The only good thing that came out of that day was that the interview went really well and it was what skyrocketed the website into how big it currently was, and it was still growing.Â
You remembered when you randomly stumbled upon the website three years ago. It was a mix of reviews, essays, and articles discussing movies and television shows, all of which interested you a lot, and you liked the website so much that you continuously kept up with it. And the day that you found out that the woman behind the entire thing needed an assistant, you jumped at the opportunity. It didnât take you too long to realize that you hated being an assistant, but you were really good at it and you also really loved being a part of that environment; surrounded by other people who loved movies and TV and were actually making a living out of writing about it.Â
âI just learned that Todd loves one of the horror movies that that director did. âThe Damnedâ something I canât remember the full title of it,â Steve said, not looking up from his laptop and continuing to type as he talked. He was a weirdly good multitasker; youâd learned that early on in your friendship, but it still always really impressed you.Â
âThe Damned Rabbit,â You told him as you started cutting out the pictures on the pages you just printed. âThatâs Kristenâs favorite too. I can usually stomach most horror movies, but that one was way too gory for me.âÂ
âDo you think I would like it?â
âDidnât you say that you got scared watching the Goosebumps show when you were a kid?âÂ
Steve looked away from his laptop and at you then. âI honestly donât remember telling you that, but yeah thatâs true.âÂ
You shrugged. âI remember all conversations we have regarding any TV shows or movies.âÂ
His head tilted a bit and he gave you a look that you didnât take notice of because you were focused on properly cutting out the pictures. âAnd Iâm assuming youâre using that information to judge me and my taste.âÂ
âNo, of course not,â You told him, making your voice sound completely serious, and then you smiled. âI already know you have shit taste in movies, so thereâs no need for me to collect any more data about that.â Â
He placed an overdramatic hand over his heart. âOuch, that hurts. Truly. Badly.â
You couldnât help but laugh as you finally looked at him. âSorry, that was mean.â
âVery much so,â Steve agreed with a nod. âPlease take that back and admit that I have the best taste ever.â  Â
You shook your head as you smiled. âIâd rather not lie to you right now.â Â
He playfully rolled his eyes at you and then went back to focusing on his laptop. He finished typing out everything and then printed it all and you helped him cut everything out once you were done with the pictures. You two then set everything up in what felt like good places on the tri-fold and glued it down. The project definitely looked rushed, but it also looked like a fifth grader did it, so in your eyes it was perfect. And by the time one in the morning rolled around, both your and Steveâs tired eyes and lack of sleep thought it was the best thing either of you had ever done.Â
âI canât wait until Christmas comes and he goes to New Jersey to visit his family,â Steve said as you two began the cleanup process. âI think Iâm gonna go into hibernation for that entire week.â
You nodded in agreement, balling up scraps of paper and tossing them into the garbage and deciding against reminding him that Christmas was over two months away, and then you remembered something. âKristenâs also from New Jersey.â
âSmall world,â Steve said. âYâknow our bosses are actually really alike. Even aside from them being assholes a lot of the time, they kinda have a lot in common. From the same state, same favorite movie, same favorite food place.â
You nodded along to his words again, thinking about the fact that them both loving that small mom-and-pop diner twenty minutes away was the reason why you and Steve had met in the first place. âYeah, youâre right.â Â
âHonestly, theyâd probably be perfect for each other,â Steve joked with a laugh.Â
And even though you knew he was joking, you immediately didnât see it that way.Â
âOh my god,â You stopped what you were doing and looked at Steve, who was now looking at you very confused. âYouâre right.âÂ
His eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head. âI was kidding.âÂ
âYes, I know you were, but youâre actually so right. They would be perfect for each other,â You told him. âWe should set them up.âÂ
Steve only shook his head again. âAlright, I think the sleep deprivation is getting to you because youâre saying insane things right now. Weâre not gonna get our bosses to date.â
You ignored his words. âI canât believe we didnât think of this idea before. Itâs just like Clueless.â
âOkay, I have no idea what weâre talking about anymore.âÂ
âYou havenât seen Clueless?â
âNo.â
âWow, and you wonder why I say your taste in movies is bad,â You said and then shook your head. âSo, thereâs this one part where the main girl decides to set up two of her teachers because one of them is a hard grader. And once heâs happy and in love, he starts giving all of the students good grades and whatever, whatever. Anyway, all of that to say, if we set up our bosses and theyâre happy and in love with each other then they probably wonât be assholes to us anymore.âÂ
After a few moments of considering your words, Steve nodded. âHonestly, thatâs kind of a good idea.â
âExactly,â You said and smiled. You were still very tired, but you were now also hit with a random burst of energy at the thought of your job maybe becoming a lot less annoying.
âSo, how do we do this?â Steve asked.
You considered his question for a second. âOkay, so as far as we both know theyâve never met each other, which means that we need to get them to meet and we need to give them a good meet cute.âÂ
âOkayâŠâ Steve started, thinking of something as he sat back down in his desk chair and you leaned back against the desk. He looked up at you. âWhat about the elevator? Maybe we can figure out a way to get them stuck in it together? Thatâs a classic âmeet cute,â right?â
âThatâs good, but it doesnât feel like enough,â You said, looking away from him and trying to think of romcoms you liked, and then it hit you. âOh, what if we got them on the kiss cam at like a basketball game or something?âÂ
The amused look that Steve gave you in response was immediate. âOkay, now I definitely know that the sleep deprivation is getting to you because doing that would be impossible.âÂ
âYeah, but maybe not if weâŠâ You trailed off, hoping that the rest of the idea would come to you, but it didnât. âShit, youâre right. It would be impossible. Elevator it is.âÂ
Steve nodded. âI actually know the maintenance guy that works here, so itâll probably be easy to get Todd and Kristen stuck together.âÂ
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. âHow do you know the maintenance guy?â
âLong story,â He answered and you decided against questioning him further on it right then.Â
âIf it wasnât one in the morning, Iâd love to hear that,â You said, and then you almost asked him when you two should put this plan into motion, but you realized something. âWait, shit, we canât just get Kristen and Todd into an elevator and hope for the best. We need to, like, âplant some seedsâ first. Make them aware of each other and these few things that we know they have in common.âÂ
âOh, okay, yeah, that makes sense.â
âSo we just need to subtly mention to both of them that theyâre from the same state and that they have the same favorite movie and food place,â You continued.Â
Steveâs confused look returned. âAnd how do we do that?â
âGreat question,â You said and for a second you considered trying to think of an answer right then, but your brain was too tired to come up with any ideas. âIâm not sure yet, but weâll figure it out.â
The printer was on its last few days of life. You were certain of it, but you just needed it to survive a few more minutes before it completely croaked out on you.Â
âPlease just ten more pages and then I promise you can go into retirement.âÂ
âAre you talking to the printer again?â Steve asked from where he was currently sitting at your desk.Â
After Todd left for the night at ten, Steve showed up at your floor, knowing that Kristen had been gone for the last hour, but you were still stuck in the building and working on preparing everything for a meeting on Monday.
You looked over at him. âSometimes Jerry needs some words of encouragement.âÂ
âGot it. That makes sense,â He responded teasingly with a nod.Â
âI donât appreciate the sarcasm tonight, Steven,â You said as you turned your focus back on the printer, and Jerry was printing out the final few pages.Â
âDoesnât me helping you right now cancel out the sarcasm?â
You promptly shook your head. âNot after the science project last night.â
âAlright, thatâs fair,â He responded and once you sat down next to him after everything was finally printed out, he looked at the stack of papers in your hand. âHow many packets do you have to make?â
âTwenty,â You answered. âAnd then I need to do the name cards and set everything up in the conference room.â
âOkay. Let me get half of the stack,â He said and you handed over half of the papers in your hand.Â
You two easily fell into a routine for the next thirty minutes, a comfortable silence lingering as you focused on the mundane task at hand and let your mind wander a bit. The initial excitement you had toward the âset upâ idea had worn off by the morning and instead your non-sleep deprived brain was now thinking about it all from a much more logical standpoint.
âDo you think it would actually work?â You asked once you two were in the conference room, you placing name cards down and Steve setting out the packets. âUs trying to set them up?â
He gave you an amused smile. âYouâre second-guessing things already? I thought I would be the one to do that.â
âI donât know,â You shrugged. âIâve just started thinking that maybe it will be a waste of time.â
You decided against adding that your reasoning for thinking that way was because your and Steveâs life wasnât a movie and maybe this idea did sound a bit too good to actually end up working as well as it did when it was a plot point in any film. And the thought of Kristen somehow figuring out what you and him were doing and firing you because of it kind of scared you too.Â
âOkay, yeah, maybe it wonât work,â Steve said. âBut, why not try, right?âÂ
You considered his words for a moment before ultimately nodding. It felt a little unexpected, but also completely reassuring, that he was entirely on board with the idea and didnât seem to have any second thoughts about it. âYouâre right. Maybe weâll at least get a week or two of them being decent to us.â
Steve nodded in agreement. âYeah, exactly, and that would be great.â
You shook your head and let out a quiet laugh as you thought of something. âJesus Christ, I canât believe the bar is so low that the thought of our bosses being nice to us for a week or two sounds amazing.â
Steve laughed too, a quick one that matched your own. âShit, yeah, thatâs actually a little sad.â
It would be a thousand percent sadder if you didnât have each other through this shitty nonsense, but you didnât tell him that right then. Instead, you gave him a small smile and placed down the last name card you had in your lap.
âI have some ideas about how we should âplant these seedsâ and get them to learn about each other without them knowing that weâre doing that,â Steve said after he set down the last packet.Â
You were technically officially done for the night, but neither of you made any move to leave the conference room just yet. You sat down in one of the rolling chairs and Steve took a seat in the one across from you.Â
âI kinda love that the tables have turned and youâre the one thatâs super into this whole thing and Iâm being slightly hesitant,â You told him, the smallest amused smile on your face.Â
âYeah, you corrupted me and now youâre backing out.â
You couldnât help but laugh at how playfully serious his voice sounded. âI promise Iâm not backing out. Tell me all of your ideas, Harrington.â
UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: i âaccidentallyâ emailed todd the video of the interview kristen did with the horror movie director guy and he ended up watching the entire thing
YOU: solid work
YOU: and on my side of things, i mentioned the new jersey thing to kristen when she brought up thinking about going home for the holidays and she actually found it a little interesting
UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: also solid work
TUESDAY
YOU: okay kristen said she wants to get food from the diner for lunch. what about todd?Â
UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: he wants it too. it surprisingly took very little convincing to get him to quit the juice diet
YOU: great. iâll see you in the lobby in 30 minutes
YOU: wait iâm just now realizing how horrible this can go for us if we switch their lunches just for them to learn that they have the same favorite restaurant. maybe we should just say that the lunches âalmostâ got switched and still make the comment about how the person that it almost got switched with really loves the place too? thatâll let them know that they have the same fave restaurant without them getting mad at us for fucking up their lunches
YOU: or maybe i'm just overthinking this
UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: no you're right. thatâs a better ideaÂ
WEDNESDAY
UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: slight change of plans. we have to push the elevator thing to tomorrowÂ
UPSTAIRS WORK NEIGHBOR: the maintenance guyâs not here today
YOU: okay
YOU: i was gonna ask if we should take this as a sign to not do it at all but iâm not gonna say that actuallyâŠ
You made it to the maintenance room before Steve. Mainly because you were a little nervous to see how all of this would end up playing out, and being two minutes early somehow helped ease your worries a bit.Â
When you walked in, you immediately saw a guy with long curly hair wearing a black t-shirt and dark jeans and sitting at a desk with two computer screens; you assumed he was the maintenance guy Steve talked about.Â
You gave him a quick wave and then held out a hand. âHey, nice to meet you.â
His hand shook your outstretched one and quick introductions were said where you learned his name was Eddie and he and Steve went to high school together and were now friends; which wasnât as long of a story as Steve had initially made it out to be.Â
âSo, youâre the infamous âgirl from work.ââ
You let out a laugh at Eddieâs words. âSteveâs mentioned me before?âÂ
Eddie nodded. âOh, he talks about you a lot.â
Before you could say anything in response to that, Steve walked into the small room. Â
âSorry, Iâm late,â He said, even though he was actually right on time. He looked at Eddie and a confused look crossed his face. âWhereâs Wayne?â
âHe still has the flu, so he wanted me to cover for him today,â Eddie answered. âBut, he told me what you guys wanna do, so I got it.â
âOkay,â Steve nodded and then he gestured between you and Eddie. âYou two met?âÂ
âYes, and I just learned that you allegedly talk about me a lot,â You said and gave him a teasing smile.Â
You immediately noticed his face flush at your words, which actually kind of surprised you and for the briefest second you wondered what that reaction meant, but then he was playfully rolling his eyes at you. âItâs only so my friends know that I donât completely hate my job.â Â
âGlad to know that Iâm the only one who makes your job somewhat tolerable,â You said, smiling wider at him. âThe feelingâs very mutual.â
You looked away from him then and focused on the computer screens. Eddie had now pulled up the video feed of the security camera in the lobby on one side and the hallway where the main elevators were on the other screen.Â
âSo, Kristen should be getting back from the coffee shop down the street any second now,â You told Steve. âShe always likes going right before they close for some reason.â
He nodded at your words. âOkay, and Todd is still in the lobby talking to Martha about getting a new building ID, and they should be done any second too.â
âI still donât get how you managed to get her to call him down for that.âÂ
He gave you a smile. âThe ladies at the front desk love me.â
âHonestly, that makes a lot of sense,â You responded. âYou are the type of person that old ladies would love.â
âIâll happily take that as a compliment.âÂ
âRemember how all the moms in town were completely obsessed with you during your lifeguard days?â Eddie chimed in, a grin on his face.Â
Steve rolled his eyes in response, and you laughed while saying, âOf course, you were a lifeguard. That makes so much sense too.â
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. âHow?â
You shook your head. âI donât know how to explain it, but just know that it does. And I mean it in a nice way.â
Steve tilted his head and squinted at you. âI donât know if I believe you.â
âTrust me, Iâm your best work friend. Iâd never lie to you,â You said, holding a solemn hand to your heart, and he couldnât help but let out a laugh.Â
You looked at the screen again and saw that Todd was still talking to Martha, and Kristen was still nowhere to be seen.Â
You tapped Eddie on the shoulder to grab his attention. âIf one of them gets to the elevator before the other is there, is there any way that you can not let the elevator come?â
He nodded. âYeah, thatâs fine.â
Luckily, and surprisingly enough though, it didnât have to come to that. Because finally Kristen was walking back into the building and heading toward the elevators, and seconds later Toddâs conversation with Martha was coming to an end and he was heading in the direction of the elevators too.Â
Kristen pressed the up button and then her eyes went down to her phone in her hand, and Todd joined her in waiting after a few moments. Absolutely nothing was said between the two of them, not even when the elevator arrived and they got on together. Which, honestly, made sense to you because you rarely ever talked to the strangers you ended up in an elevator with.Â
âHow do you stop it?â You asked Eddie after he switched the camera to the one in the elevator.Â
âThereâs something to press that stops them for emergencies,â He explained as he got up from his chair and went over to a panel on the wall. âAnd thereâs also an intercom here to talk to them so they donât freak out or start panicking.â
He then pressed the stop button for the elevator Todd and Kristen were on. âDid it work?âÂ
You and Steve both responded with a quick âYeahâ at the same time. You noticed the confused looks cross your bosses faces and you saw Todd reach out to press the emergency button, but Eddie was speaking through the intercom before he could.Â
âHey, sorry about that, guys. Itâs just an electrical issue and it should be fixed in about fifteen to thirty minutes.â He looked at you and Steve again. âAlright, letâs see if your matchmaking thing works.â
It was quiet at first. So quiet that you couldnât help but wonder if this was actually the worst idea ever. You and Steve were âplaying cupidâ for two people who only had a few things in common, and it was all for entirely selfish reasons.Â
âIâm just now realizing how insane this whole thing is,â You told Steve, looking away from the screen that showed Todd and Kristen still not talking to each other. Â
âYouâre just now realizing that? That was pretty much the first thing I told you when you suggested this,â Steve reminded you.Â
âI know, I know,â You started. âBut now seeing it actually happen is making me understand that.âÂ
Eddie turned around in his chair and looked up at you two. âDo you guys want me to start the elevator back?â
Both you and Steve had the same immediate answer of, âNo.âÂ
You kept going after a second. âThis will either be the best thing ever or the complete opposite, but I think we should just see it through, at this point, right?â
In this moment, it seemed like things were leaning more toward the âabsolute worstâ side of the spectrum, but it didnât make you entirely change your mind about doing it, and it didnât make Steve disagree with you either. âRight.â
âOkay,â Eddie shrugged as he turned back around. âFor what itâs worth, I donât think this is that fucked up of an idea.â
You nodded, even though he couldnât see you. âOkay, cool, so weâre not completely terrible and manipulative people for doing this.â
âWell, I didnât say that,â Eddie responded and Steve whacked his arm.Â
You didnât say anything and instead looked at the computer screen again.Â
âCome on. Talk,â You mumbled. âTalk to each other.â
âThey canât hear you,â Steve jokingly whispered to you.Â
Before you had the chance to make a sarcastic comment back to him, there was finally something coming from the computerâs speaker. Â
âHey, you did that interview with Matt Scott, right?â Todd asked Kristen.
She nodded. âYeah, I did.âÂ
âI just watched it a couple of days ago. It was really good,â He said, and at that, Kristen smiled.Â
From there, it felt like the equivalent to watching a movie; and you could inwardly recognize how weird that sounded. They introduced themselves to each other and then continued to talk about that horror movie director they both loved, and they eventually bonded over the few things that you and Steve had told them about one another too.Â
Thirty minutes passed quicker than expected and you and Steve ended up sitting in two folding chairs that were in the small room and sat next to Eddie as you watched your bosses have what seemed like a really good conversation. It didnât seem as if it was coming to any sort of an end just yet, but you and Steve still had Eddie start the elevator back up again. And before Kristen got off on her floor first, they exchanged phone numbersâ which shouldnât have at all been surprising, but it still kind of was.Â
You looked at Steve once the doors closed and it was just Todd left in the elevator. âWoah.â
He nodded, agreeing with your one word that said a lot more than just that. âWow.âÂ
Eddie laughed a little. âNice work playing cupid for these two.â
You felt relieved, but not entirely so. âWeâll see if it actually works.â
It just never made sense with how crazy your jobs were, so you two always settled for texting. Apparently, this moment was different, though.Â
However, before you could make any move to answer your phone, you were getting called into Kristenâs office, and your heart was abruptly falling into your stomach because suddenly the timing of Steve's phone call felt like it had something to do with whatever conversation you were about to have with Kristen.Â
âHey,â You said, trying to make your voice sound as normal, and not worried, as possible. âIs everything okay?â
She looked up from her phone and then smiled at you. âEverythingâs really good, actually. Iâm going to be leaving early today, so you can head out too.â
That wasnât at all what you were expecting her to say, but you attempted to hide your complete shock.Â
âOh, okay,â You ultimately responded. âAre you sure?â
You regretted asking the question the second you said it, but this entire moment felt like some sort of trick or test, so you felt the immediate need to question it. Â
âYeah, itâs Friday,â She said as if that explained everything, which it did not. âYou can have a half day for once.â
You were convinced that this had something to do with Todd, but you still wanted some sort of confirmation. âSpecial occasion?â
âRemember yesterday when I told you about getting stuck in the elevator for half an hour?â She asked, and when you nodded she continued. âWell, I exchanged numbers with the guy I was stuck with because we had a really nice conversation when we were in there, and five minutes ago, he called asking to go to lunch and then to see this movie that we talked about in the elevator. Itâs the last day itâs playing at that small theater on the other side of town.â
You nodded along to her words. âThat sounds great.â
âOh, and funnily enough, itâs the guy that you mentioned a few days ago who works upstairs and is from Jersey, and our food almost got swapped from the diner,â She laughed a littleâ happily, dreamilyâ like a woman with a crush. âIsnât that crazy?â
There was absolutely nothing about how Kristen said those words that shouldâve made you think she knew what you and Steve had done, but still, you couldnât help but think it.Â
Which made you force a nervous smile as you once again nodded. âYeah, so crazy. Small world. Or, well, in this case, I guess small building.â You laughed awkwardly at your non-joke and then immediately kept going. âAnyway, I hope you have a fun time with him today. See you Monday.â
Kristenâs eyes were back on her phone, smiling again as she waved at you in goodbye and you proceeded to quickly leave her office.Â
You called Steve back the moment you were at your desk again. He picked up on the second ring and the first thing he said was, âIt actually fucking worked. He asked her to go to lunch.â
âI know,â You whispered, even though all you really wanted to do in that moment was let out the happiest sound ever. âWhere are you right now?â
âToddâs letting me leave since heâs leaving, so Iâm about to head down to the lobby.â
âOkay, Iâll meet you there. Iâm gonna grab my stuff and immediately run away from my desk before Kristen can call me back into her office and tell me that this was all some sort of elaborate prank,â You said and then hung up, stuffing your phone in your pocket and grabbing your bag from underneath your desk.Â
You waved happily at Steve when you exited the elevator in the lobby and barely a second later he was pulling you into a hug. Even though that was something that had never happened before, you didnât hesitate to return the action, wrapping your arms around him too and smiling into his shoulder.Â
âYouâre a genius for this idea,â He told you, words hitting right at your ear.Â
âTechnically, you came up with it,â You reminded him when you two pulled out of the celebratory embrace.Â
âOkay, in that case, Iâll happily take the credit for all of this then,â Steve said and smiled at you.Â
You playfully poked his arm. âWhat I meant is that we both should get credit for this plan working. You kinda came up with the initial idea and I came up with all the nitty gritty stuff.â
He shook his head. âThatâs not entirely true, actually. Who came up with the elevator meet cute?â
You knew that he wanted you to say him, but you refused to give him the satisfaction so you simply shrugged instead. âA shitty Hallmark movie, probably.â
âHa ha, good one,â He said as he rolled his eyes at you.Â
âThank you, Iâll be here all week. Actually, thatâs not true because we finally just got a day off,â You smiled as you and Steve headed into the lobby. âThis is the first time Iâve had a Friday off in the past two years of working here, I honestly have no idea what to do now.â
The thought of spending the rest of the day, and then night, catching up on sleep sounded very tempting to you, and it only felt a little sad that youâd be completely sleeping away a Friday when you finally had the opportunity to do something even the tiniest bit fun.Â
âDo you want to come to a birthday party for my best friend/roommate tonight?â Steve asked. âWeâre having it at our place and I thought Iâd have to miss it because I was gonna be stuck here all night, but now I wonât be, and you should come.â
Initially, you smiled at his offer and you felt the urge to accept it on the spot. But then your brain couldnât help but consider what saying yes would mean. You and Steve had never hung out outside of this building, and the few food spots that were on the same street as this building, before. Although you two were friends, you couldnât lie and say that it didnât pretty much start and end at work; mainly because that was what consumed most of your time.Â
âWouldn't that be kinda weird?â You ultimately asked, deciding against verbalizing exactly what you were thinking about. âI donât think Iâd want a random girl from my best friendâs workplace to be at my birthday party.â
âYouâre not a random girl. I talk about you all the time, remember?â Steve said, reminding you of Eddieâs words from yesterday, and the playfulness in his tone made you smile.
Instead of asking more questionsâ like what it would mean to take your work friendship into normal friendship territory, and whether it would even easily happenâ you were simply agreeing and saying, âOkay.â
âI brought alcohol,â You said when Steve opened his door and then you held up the two bottles of tequila you bought on your drive over to his apartment.Â
He shook his head at you but still smiled as he pushed the door open further to let you in. Seeing him out of his typical professional work clothes and in a simple white t-shirt and jeans was a nice surprise that honestly shouldnât have been all that surprising. âYou didnât have to do that.â
âItâs physically impossible for me to show up to places empty-handed,â You looked around the decently sized space as Steve closed the door behind you. There werenât that many people in the apartment yet, you only noticed two girls leaning back against the small kitchen island and talking. You turned to look at Steve. âShit, am I too early?â
Your hands were full so you couldnât pull your phone out of your denim jacket pocket to check the time, but you had a feeling what it would say. After working for Kristen for the past two years, it was pretty much ingrained in you to never be late anywhere, and most times you inadvertently ended up being early.Â
âA little bit, yeah. But, thatâs fine,â Steve told you with a shrug. âIâm glad youâre here early. Itâll probably make it easier for you to meet everyone.â
He then introduced you to the girls talking in the kitchen; his roommate and best friend Robin and her girlfriend Vickie.Â
âHi, youâre my new favorite person,â Robin told you when she noticed the alcohol in your hands. Â
âThank you,â You laughed a little as you set it down on the counter, joining the other bottles that littered it. âHappy Birthday.âÂ
âThanks,â She smiled at you. âHow are your karaoke skills?â
The randomness of the question slightly surprised you. âAbsolutely terrible, but when Iâm drunk I love doing it.â
âPerfect,â She said. âYou and Steve have to do a duet when we go to this karaoke bar later. The last time we went, he got so drunk he sang Footloose three times in a row.â
âI will admit, each time was very great,â Vickie chimed in.Â
âYeah,â Robin agreed. âHe surprisingly has a really good voice.â
You smiled and tried your hardest not to laugh at the thought of the Steve youâd grown to know over the past eight months getting drunk and singing karaoke. âPlease tell me thereâs video proof of that.â
âOh, of course,â She nodded and went to pull her phone out of the pocket of the high-waisted pants she was wearing.Â
âOkay, and before things get even more embarrassing for me right now,â Steve reached out to grab your hand and pull you out of the conversation. âLet me give you a quick tour of the apartment.â
You were laughing as you let him drag you away from his friends. âYouâre suddenly such an attentive host.â
He pointed out the bathroom and Robinâs room down the hall and then led you to his room.Â
âItâs clean,â You said, pointing out the obvious. His bed was made and there werenât any clothes or other random things littering the floor.
Steve let out an amused laugh at your words. âIâm scared to know what you expected it to look like.â
âI donât know, honestly,â You shrugged as you leaned back against his dark wood desk that was tucked in a corner. âYou definitely wouldnât want to see my room right now. Itâs a complete mess from me trying to decide what to wear tonight.â
You had ended up settling for the first things you had pulled from your closetâ a long sleeve black shirt and a brown plaid skirt that was shorter than you had remembered but still really niceâ so the clothes that had ended up making your bed a mess and floor a tripping hazard felt like a sad waste of time. And now knowing how early you had shown up to the party, you probably couldâve prioritized cleaning up before you left your home in a rush. Â
âYou look nice,â Steve told you, and you didnât expect to feel so affected by his wordsâ which you knew were just a simple compliment by a friendâ but you did. âDo you want me to take your jacket?â
âYeah, sure,â You pulled off the dark denim jacket you were wearing and handed it over to him, and he went to place it on the hook behind his open door.Â
âSo, what did you do after we were set free?â He asked as he sat at the foot of his bed. You got the sudden urge to join him, but you didnât, deciding to stay right where you were at his desk.Â
âI had the best four-hour nap of my life and then I played really dumb games on my phone while still in bed,â You answered. It had been the most perfectly boring evening. âWhat have you been up to with your past free hours?â
âI also took a nap, and then I watched Clueless.â
A smile immediately started to tug at your lips. âNo, you didnât.â
âI did,â He nodded. âIt felt like good timing.â
âI think good timing wouldâve been if you watched it before we did the plan, but better late than never,â You said and then asked the important question. âDid you like it?â
He gave you another nod. âYeah. A lot more than I expected to, actually.â
âNice, I knew there was a part of you that had, at least, a kind of good taste in movies.â
âIâm still very offended that you think itâs mainly bad.â
âYou told me that one of your favorites is the first Fast and Furious movie, and that was all I needed to know,â You said and then gave him a smile. âItâs honestly funny because an article about the entire series was actually the first thing I read on Kristenâs website.â
âAnd did it speak highly of the franchise?â
You nodded, holding back a laugh. âFor the most part, yes. Surprisingly. Iâll find the link later and send it to you.â
âThank you,â He said and then a beat of silence lingered before he asked, âHey, is that why you work for Kristen? Because you eventually wanna write for the website?â
âYeah, kinda, yeah,â You started with a quick nod. âIt didnât initially start that way. I just loved the website and wanted to be a part of it in any way I could. But, the thought of actually writing has only become more and more interesting to me, and yeah I think I wanna do that sooner than later.â
âYou should let me read something youâve written.â
Your head shake was immediate. âNo way.â
âWhy not?â
âOne, because thatâs embarrassing. And two, because I havenât even finished anything yet because of how busy I always am.â
âWell, weâre gonna start having a lot of free time on our hands, so itâs the perfect time for you to actually finish something,â Steve told you. âAnd also the perfect time to let me read it once itâs done.â
âIâll think about it,â You ultimately conceded and then proceeded to shift the subject away from yourself. âWhat about you, though? Why do you work for Todd?â
âHonestly, I donât really know. My dad helped me get the job, actually, which is a long story in itself. I initially hated it a lot more than I do now, but I knew that my dad would give me shit if I quit. And he probably still would,â Steve explained. Just from the brief way he talked about his dad, you could sense how tense that relationship was, and you really wanted to know more about it, but you didnât push further in that moment. âI donât even like this finance stuff, but I still donât really know what I really want to do, so Iâm kinda okay with dealing with Todd and all of his bullshit.â
You nodded understandingly. âThat makes sense. You never once gave me âfinance broâ vibes.â
Steve tilted his head at you amusingly. âWhat does that mean?â
âYouâre not an asshole mixed with a huge hint of douchebag.â
He let out a laugh which made you smile. âThank you. That really means a lot.â
âYouâre very welcome,â You told him, still smiling and matching his playful tone. âOkay, okay, enough work talk. We need to use our freedom to its maximum potential.â An idea was hitting you as you stood up from his desk. âLetâs get drunk.â
Another brief amused laugh fell from Steveâs lips, but he still nodded at your words. âSolid idea.â
It had been a long time since you drank so your tolerance was terrible. You felt effectively drunk after just two shotsâ one with Steve to celebrate being free from work and then a birthday shot with Robin that she made everyone do once more people showed upâ and you forced Steve to keep up with you, which he happily did. He was five shots in to your three and both of you were on the same level; a level that also exceeded everyone else at the party.Â
You learned that the initial plan was to âpregameâ here at the apartment for an hour or two and then head to the karaoke bar that Robin had mentioned earlier and spend the rest of the night there. However, you and Steve took pregaming to an entirely different level.Â
You two ended up staying in your own little bubble for most of the nightâ holed up on a spot on the couch as you talked only about non-work related things for the first time probably ever. You wondered if this bubble was because Steve wanted to make you feel comfortable in this space where you didnât really know anyone aside from him, and Eddie kinda, but you didnât question it.Â
A friendship that had initially felt as if it had started and ended at work easily shifted into something else as you two learned random things about each other and exchanged silly stories that could be deemed as unimportant nonsense, but it didnât feel that way coming from a person that you really cared about. And it was when you were laughing and telling Steve about the time you crashed into your childhood neighbor's mailbox just one day after you got your license when you were sixteenâ a story that you couldnât remember the last time you told anyone because of how embarrassing it wasâ you realized that there was something entirely different about Steve.Â
What you and he had wasnât just a work friendship, and even now in this space outside of work, it also didnât feel like a normal friendship either. Maybe it was never supposed to be limited to something as simple as that.Â
There was an unfamiliar feeling that settled in your stomach as you watched him happily stand next to his best friend and hold the cake that she blew the candles out of moments after everyone loudly sang âHappy Birthdayâ in the kitchen. You quickly pushed the sudden feeling away because it felt easier to not think about it for the time being.
You and Steve ended up back on the couch again after the cake was cut and you two shared a piece, a corner slice that you both thought was the most perfect thing you had ever seen.Â
At some point, you couldnât tell exactly how much time had passed, Robin came over to the two of you. You noticed the amused smile take over her features as she looked at the close proximity between you and Steve; there wasn't an inch of space between you two because you both wanted the plate to balance equally on your laps. âI think you guys have had more than enough to drink tonight, so you should just stay here.âÂ
âYou sure?â Steve asked, looking up at her.Â
She nodded. âYes, Iâm positive. If you puke in the karaoke bar and we get banned Iâll never forgive you, dingus.â
âThatâs fair.â
You looked up at Robin and smiled. In a way, it felt wrong that your conversation with her had been so limited earlier, she seemed really nice. âHappy birthday again.â
She smiled back at you. âThanks again.â
The apartment became empty minutes later and the quietness reminded you of when you had first showed up. There was still music coming from the speaker set up in the living room, but Steve got up from the couch to lower it and then it became a soft hum in the background.
âIâm sorry I suggested the getting drunk idea,â You told Steve as you grabbed the now empty plate in your hand and stood up to toss it in the trash in the kitchen; with your drunkenness, it was a task that felt as if it took forever. âI messed up your night with your friends.â
You saw Steve shake his head when you turned to look at him again. He joined you where you were in the kitchen and grabbed a couple cups off the counter to throw them in the trash can. âIâm happy here with you.â
âIs that because you really didnât wanna do our duet and because I can help you clean up the mess in here right now?â
âSure.â
You wanted to ask him what he meant by that, because it felt as if there was much more to that one-worded response, and even in your current inebriated state you could see that. Instead, though, you were asking, âWhy are we friends?â
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the randomness of your question. âBecause we met that night in the lobby eight months ago?â
You shook your head. âNo, I mean, why are we just friends?â
You werenât sure why you were suddenly asking thisâ or even where your abrupt courage was coming from to ask itâ but in this moment, with you two standing in his barely lit kitchen, it somehow felt right.
Your question was met with silence, though, and that lack of a response from Steve made you suddenly feel as if you actually shouldnât have asked that question; because maybe it said way too much.Â
âOh, actually, never mind,â You abruptly said and pulled your eyes away from his, and went to grab the half-full red solo cup off the kitchen counter to toss it in the garbage.Â
However, in what shouldâve been a short and simple journey to the trash can, you roughly bumped into the side of the counter and spilled the entirety of what was leftover in the cup on yourself.Â
âShit.â
âShit,â Steve immediately echoed, looking at the mess on the lower part of your shirt and the front of your skirt. âUm, letâs grab you something to change into.â
Wordlessly, you nodded and followed him to his bedroom. You werenât entirely sure what you were more embarrassed aboutâ you spilling a drink on yourself and now smelling so disgustingly like alcohol or the stupid question you asked him that led to this happening.
âYou can grab whatever you want from in there,â Steve told you and pointed toward what you assumed was his closet. âIâm gonna get a towel for you.â Â
âThanks, Iâm sorry about all of this. I swear Iâm not usually this annoying of a drunk person,â You joked because it felt like the only right thing to do in that moment.Â
âYouâre not annoying,â You heard Steve say from somewhere behind you.Â
You wanted to follow up with another sort of playful and witty response, but you couldnât think of what to say. So instead, you silently pulled a long-sleeved white button-up off a hanger and turned back to Steve, who handed over a towel for you.Â
You headed to the bathroom that wasnât too far down the hall and as you closed the door behind you and were left alone, you refused to think about what happened in the past few minutes. You focused solely on the mundane task of pulling your shirt off and drying your damp skin with the towel and then moving to take off your skirt.Â
You werenât sure where you thought Steve was, but you didnât think he was standing right outside the bathroom door, so abruptly hearing his soft voice on the other side of the door made you jump as you slipped on the white shirt.Â
âI think weâre just friends becauseâŠâ He trailed off. âI donât know, honestly.â
You wished that your question couldâve simply been forgotten about, and you wanted to tell him just that; to forget it. However, there was a small part of you that wanted to push the conversation forward and actually talk about it, and somehow that small part managed to take precedence over logical thinking. Â
âMaybe we shouldnât be friends,â You responded, not outwardly saying what you really meant because you knew that you wouldnât be able to take it back once the words were out in the open and that was a slightly scary thought, even your drunk brain knew that. Â
âI think youâre right,â Steve said, and somehow you could practically hear him nodding. âSo, what should we be instead?â
It was obvious what he wanted you to say, and even though the words were on the tip of your tongue, you still couldnât seem to actually say them. You finished buttoning the shirt and then let out a quiet sigh.
âI donât knowâŠâ You ultimately answered. Selfishly, you wanted him to be the one to say it out loud first. âWhat do you think we should be instead?â
Hearing his soft laugh made you immediately smile. Somehow, this back-and-forth conversation between two half-drunk people who were beating around the bush about their feelings for one another was becoming more and more teasing, and you honestly didnât mind it because it just felt so typical of you and Steve.Â
âI donât know, either,â He answered, and for a second, you thought that the conversation was going to come to its end thereâ without either of you mustering up the courage to actually say the wordsâ but then he continued. âBut Iâll admit that whenever I see you, it makes me really, really happy.â
You could only smile wider at his words. âOkay, and Iâll admit that sometimes I like when weâre both forced to stay late at work because it means that I get to spend more time with you.â
You didnât realize just how true those words were until you were saying them. You had long accepted that Steve being in your life made your job a thousand times more bearable, but you were now finally seeing that it was so much more than that. You were suddenly so certain of the fact that you wouldâve quit your job long ago if going to work and dealing with Kristen didnât mean eventually seeing Steve at some point throughout the day, even if it was just for five quick minutes.Â
âHonestly, those late nights are kind of my favorite,â Steve responded to your previous confession and you felt yourself nodding in agreement even though he couldnât see you.
âI like you,â You told him. Your voice was soft but you knew that he could hear you. âAnd I donât mean that in a work friend or regular friend kind of way. And Iâm just now fully realizing it tonight, but I think deep down Iâve felt this way for a long time.â
âI like you too,â He responded, voice matching your softness and you could hear the smile in his tone. âAnd I donât mean it in a work friend or regular friend way either.âÂ
Things got quiet for a second and then you were opening the bathroom door and meeting Steveâs eyes. Neither of you said anything at first; mainly because it felt as if the contented smiles on both of your faces managed to say it all.Â
âI forgot to grab pants,â Were the first words you said after a minute of comfortable silence. Steveâs shirt on you was long enough and its length matched where your skirt had ended, so nothing new was really revealed.Â
Steve laughed a little at your random statement because it made it seem as if a huge thing hadnât just been admitted by both of you only moments ago.Â
âWe should probably get you those,â He looked down at your new outfit, or lack thereof, for a brief second and then met your eyes again.Â
You gave him a quick nod. âYeah, I guess that would make sense.â
Neither of you made any move to head toward his bedroom again, though. Instead, another handful of moments passed and then you were silently reaching out and letting your hand find his. You pulled him into the bathroom with you and softly shut the door behind him.
With two people now in it, you were realizing just how small the bathroom was, but this closeness felt perfect to you. And you could tell that the feeling was mutual because Steveâs hands were finding your hips, and then you were being shifted around so that you were pressed back against the sink. Your arms reached up to circle his neck and your hands settled in the hair at the nape of his neck; it all felt so instinctiveâ as if this was something that had happened a bunch of times before. As if this entire moment was something that had happened a million times before.
Your eyes drifted down to Steveâs lips for a quick second because they were only inches away from yours and you wondered who would be the one to close the final bit of distance between you two, or if youâd simply just meet in the middle and the rest would be history.Â
Before anything could happen, though, the annoying logical part of you was taking over and you got the urge to ask something. âWeâre not just doing this and saying all of this because weâre kinda drunk, right?â
Your words were whispered and your eyes were closed because you knew that your question had the opportunity to be a mood killer and ruin this moment entirely, and for those exact reasons, you immediately wanted to take it back. But, Steve was answering before you could.Â
âNo,â He whispered back. It was such a short and simple answer, but it somehow managed to say enough.Â
Your eyes opened and you could tell that he was about to say more, but you leaned in to kiss him before anything could be said. It was soft at first, soft and tentative, like you both were testing the waters and trying to correctly navigate this uncharted territory.Â
But then it was as if the same switch was flipping for you two at the exact same time because, after the briefest second, you both were simultaneously pushing any and all thinking to the side and simply leaning into what felt right. Steve deepened the kiss and you reciprocated immediately, pushing yourself as close as you could to him and closing any and all space between you two.Â
Your hands went from softly tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck, to fisting themselves in his white t-shirt. And then, with Steveâs help too, you pushed yourself up so that you were sitting on the sink counter. It wasnât the most comfortable position, but you didnât entirely mind it right then. Steve settled between your now parted legs and one hand was still on your hip, while the other was playing with the hem of your, his, shirt that was now riding further and further up your thighs due to your new position. Â
âI canât believe out of everything, you grabbed this shirt,â Steve said in between kisses.Â
You let out a contented sound when his lips moved to your neck. âWhy?âÂ
âBecause you look very, very hot right now,â He didnât hesitate to answer. âAnd your outfit earlier was really great too, and honestly you always look hot so maybe this shouldnât even be surprising to me right now.âÂ
You let out a soft laugh at his rambling. âIâm hot even when weâre at work and Iâm wearing a boring cardigan and jeans?â
Steve nodded and pressed a quick kiss against your lips. âEspecially then.âÂ
It was hard not to feel so affected by the two simple words; your heart quite literally stuttered at how certain he sounded, and you leaned in to kiss him again instead of saying anything in response. Your fingers carded themselves in his hair, eliciting a soft groan from him that made you smile into the kiss. And then both of his hands moved to your hips, pulling you to the edge of the counter so that you were flush against him.Â
In a way, it felt a little silly that you two were making out in his bathroom when there was a perfectly good bed right down the hall. But, it was a kind of silliness that made sense for you and Steve and everything you two built over the last eight months of knowing each other.Â
There was the friendship side of things that happened so effortlessly following that night you two met in the lobby, and now there was this new side that, weirdly enough, so quickly felt the same way. Kissing him for the first time right here, right now made you wish that you two had been doing this a lot sooner because of how irrevocably happy it made you.Â
âWeâre stupid for taking so long to do this,â You eventually told him when you two were in his bed. You were moments away from falling asleep, but you felt the need to finally say those words.Â
The two of you were under his grey covers and you had traded the button up for one of Steveâs t-shirts and a pair of his basketball shorts that were really comfortable. His warmth enveloped you completely beneath the blanket as he pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and finding your hand to intertwine it with his.Â
âLike we were stupid for not getting Todd and Kristen together sooner?â
You nodded, a small smile gracing your lips that he couldnât see because you were facing away from him. âYes, exactly like that.â
Steve pressed a kiss against the side of your head and then his lips tickled at your ear. âI agree.â
You hummed in response and finally fell asleep moments later because you were in way too comfortable of a position not to. It was your first time in Steveâs bed, but how at ease youâd felt since you pulled the blanket over you minutes ago didnât feel new or foreign. It simply felt right.Â
And before your eyes slipped shut and you drifted off, you came to the final realization of the night that everything felt right with Steve, it always did, and that was the most comforting thought to fall asleep to.
âHearing his soft laugh made you immediately smile. Somehow, this back-and-forth conversation between two half-drunk people who were beating around the bush about their feelings for one another was becoming more and more teasing, and you honestly didnât mind it because it just felt so typical of you and Steve.â
This made me stop and clutch my heart happily! I donât know why this in particular struck me, but I love it.
I really like the movie set it up, and I appreciate the choices you made while writing! Especially skipping the baseball game and the slightly meta line about this not being a movie.
But really, everything here is so fantastic! Thank you for sharing đ«¶
summary:Â in which you and steve randomly meet at a bar and realize that you two can help each other out with a similar problem
warnings:Â explicit language, mentions of alcohol/drinking, mentions of past bad relationships (very recent breakups), smut (18+), oral (f!receiving), protected p in v sex
authorâs note: i genuinely canât believe how long this ended up being lol hope yall enjoy though!<333
âWe could be the greatest wingwoman and wingman for you right now if you just let us, dingus.â
Steve rolled his eyes at Robinâs words. âI already let you guys drag me to this bar, isnât that enough?â
Robin responded with a simple, âNo, itâs notâ before taking another sip of her drink, while Eddie said something about how if this were a year ago, they wouldnât have had to force Steve to this bar because he would have suggested the idea himself.Â
âMonica changed you for the worse, man,â Eddie continued, and Steve only frowned at him.Â
Robin gave Eddieâs arm a quick whack. âHey, we promised no Monica slander tonight. At least not right in front of him.â
Steve gave them both the most unamused look. âYou guys really had to make a deal about that? To not talk shit about my ex?â
âOkay, donât say it like that,â Robin told him. âIt would actually be super warranted if we did wanna talk shit about her. She was super pretentious and she hated all of your friends; me and Eddie, especially.â
Steve couldnât think of a rebuttal to that on the spot, so he ended up saying nothing. And then he reminded himself that Monica had brutally dumped him two weeks ago, so why should he even want to defend her to his best friends anymore?
âThereâs seriously not one girl here right now that you could maybe be interested in?â Eddie asked, and Steve was grateful that the conversation was at least slightly shifting away from Monica.
But, he didnât even take a quick look around the bar before answering Eddieâs question with an immediate âNoâ and hoping that the subject would change again.
Eddie groaned and then proceeded to finish what was left of his beer, and Robin sighed before saying, âIf you at least talked to a random girl here, and just maybe flirted a little bit, donât you think youâd feel a little less sad about the breakup?â
âIâm not sad about it, though,â Was Steveâs immediate response, and it was only kind of a lie.Â
It really wasnât Monica breaking up with him that made him sad; it was more about him spending almost a year of his life with someone that he knew he probably shouldnât have been with in the first place because of how incompatible they were. That hard truth was what made him feel sad and a little stupid. Actually, scratch that, a lot stupid. But things with her had become so comfortable and routine that it eventually felt easier staying than leaving.Â
Robin simply gave him a look before shaking her head. âYouâre a terrible liar. Last night I saw you watching that one National Geographic documentary that you only watch when youâre sad. Which I still find kinda weird, but youâre my best friend and I love you and all of your weird coping habits.â
âWait, which documentary is it again?â Eddie asked, laughing a little. âThe one about the whales or the one about the lions?â
âWhales,â Robin answered. âAnd it's like three hours long.â
âIâm going to the bathroom,â Steve abruptly said before Robin or Eddie could say anything else.Â
He left his half-drunk beer with his friends and walked away from the high table theyâd been occupying for the past hour and headed toward where the bathrooms were down a random hallway.Â
âDonât try to sneak out the back. We have your location and we will find you,â He heard Robin say from behind him. âAnd donât turn it off now that I just mentioned it.â
Steve laughed as he held up his hand, giving her a quick thumbs-up in response.Â
There was only so much waiting and hiding you could do, so you decided to ask the first guy that you saw exiting the bathroom.Â
âHey, are the two girls sitting at the end of the right side of the bar looking this way?âÂ
Surprisingly, this random guy didnât question why you were asking him that, or why you couldnât check that yourself, or even question why you were so obviously hiding in this slightly secluded hallway where the terrible bathrooms were.Â
Instead, he stepped out of the hallway a little bit and took a peek around the corner for you, and then turned back to you after a second. âYeah, I see two girls looking this way.â
âShit.â
âWho are they?â
âMy friends.â
The confused look he gave you was immediate. âWhy are you trying to avoid your friends?â
You sighed as you leaned back against the wall behind you. âBecause theyâre trying to convince me that going home with a random guy tonight will help me get over my boyfriend who just broke up with me.â
The laugh he let out in response surprised you. It also made you feel equal parts offended and amused.Â
âIs my devastating heartbreak funny to you?â
For the most part, you were exaggerating; your breakup with Elliott hadnât actually been all too devastatingâ no outward lying or cheating, just a lot of miscommunications and bad timingsâ but you kind of wanted this random guy to feel at least a little bad for laughing at you.Â
âShit, no, sorry,â He said, and his cheeks reddened a bit in what you could only assume was embarrassment, and you suddenly felt kind of bad about getting so defensive. âI just laughed because my friends are trying to do the same thing for me, too.âÂ
âOh, sorry,â You said, feeling slightly worse now that you knew that you two were in the same boat. âSorry about your breakup.â
He shrugged like it was fine. âHow long have you been standing here hiding from your friends?â
âFive minutes, maybe,â You answered as you pulled out your phone to quickly check the time. Seeing that it was a little after ten thirty let you know that youâd actually been standing here for closer to ten minutes, but you didnât correct yourself. âMy plan is to somehow find an opening to slip out the front door, and then Iâll send them a picture from my Uber telling them that I left.â
âSolid plan.â
âI canât tell if youâre being sarcastic or not.â
âMaybe a little bit,â He said, giving you a small smile, and it was then that you were realizing, or finally noticing, that this guy was cute; even in the shitty bar lighting you could tell that.Â
Maybe it was because of his sweet smile, or maybe it was the denim jacket he was wearing over a plain white t-shirt that suited him really well. Or maybe it was his hair that looked as if he got out of bed and pushed a quick hand through it and then proceeded to leave his home, and you meant that in the best way possible.
Either way, this guy was really cute and so clearly your typeâ even though you felt like you were in no place to consider anything romantic with anyone, you could recognize his attractivenessâ and you were suddenly being hit with an idea.
âWait, you said that your friends are trying to set you up with someone here too, right?â
He let out a sigh. âYeah, they are.â
âAnd Iâm guessing by that sigh that you donât wanna do that?â You asked, and when he shook his head in answer, you continued. âOkay, I think we maybe can help each other get out of here. This might sound a little insane since we literally donât know each other at all, but letâs just pretend we really like each other in front of our friendsâ like, be super flirty and whatever. And then weâll leave here together, letting them think that weâre gonnaâŠâ The thought of saying the word suddenly made you feel awkward, so you didnât. âDo what they want us to do.â Â
After taking a moment to process your sudden ideaâ you honestly wouldnât have been surprised if the guy said no because it was pretty weirdâ he nodded. âThatâs actually a really great idea.âÂ
âThank you. Iâm known for my great ideas, actually,â You said, smiling at him as you reached out to grab his hand and intertwine it with yours.Â
If the thought of saying that you and this stranger were gonna have sex made you feel awkward, then abruptly holding his hand shouldâve felt weird too, but surprisingly it didnât. âAlright, letâs just act like weâre super into each other, I guess.âÂ
âIâm Steve, by the way,â He told you.Â
âOh, yeah, thatâs probably important information to know,â You said and then proceeded to tell him your name too.Â
You led the way to your friends and the small corner of the bar where they were lingering by.Â
âHey, guys, this is Steve,â You said and slapped on the happiest smile you could muster at the moment.Â
âSteve,â Danielle was the first one to say something after noticing your and Steveâs interlocked hands. âWhatâs your last name?â
âHarrington.â
And then Amy was jumping in. âHow old are you?â
âTwenty-three.âÂ
âWhat do you do?â
âI work at the record store down the street.â
âSo, youâre a music guy?â
âNot really, I guess. My friend got me a job there.âÂ
You decided to stop the interrogation before Steve got scared away by this back and forth questioning Danielle and Amy were doing. âOkay, okay, thatâs enough of the interview. His friends are gonna think he ditched them or something.â
âYou guys should come over to the table weâre at,â Steve said and then pointed in the direction of where his friends were with his free hand. âThereâs enough room.â
You nodded at his words. âThatâs a great idea.âÂ
If Danielle or Amy were aware of this act you were putting onâ how you were no longer rejecting their idea of you flirting with some guy to âget overâ Elliottâ they didnât call you out on it. Instead, they agreed that going to the table with Steveâs friends was a good idea.Â
Quick introductions were made, and then the group settled into typical small talk. However, you and Steve deliberately fell into your own kind of âflirty conversationâ and played it up for your friends, all of whom tried to pretend that they werenât intensely watching you two, but they failed miserably at hiding their staring, which was exactly what you both wanted.Â
After a few minutes of exaggerated smiles and elated laughs, Steve leaned in close to your ear. âHow long do you think weâre gonna have to do this?â
You softly giggled like he just whispered the sweetest thing to you and then leaned into his ear. âFollow my lead.â
You pulled back and then shifted so that you were standing closer to him, and he quickly took the hint and wrapped his arm around you.Â
âHey,â You said, grabbing the attention of your friends and his, which was easy because they had already been half-listening to you and Steve anyway. âWeâre gonna head out of here, so weâll see you guys later.â
There was a mix of confused and surprised looks that crossed all over their faces for the briefest moment, and then Amy was the one to first say something. âReally?â
âYeah,â You nodded. âI want to take Steve to my place to show him something.â
âSince Iâve never seen the second Home Alone movie, weâre gonna watch that,â Steve added. Out of all of the movies he couldâve said, you werenât sure why he was mentioning a Christmas one in September, but sure, youâd play along.Â
âYouâre gonna watch a movie?â Robin asked, somehow looking both skeptical and amused.Â
Steve nodded. âYeah.â
âYup,â You agreed as you reached up to lace your fingers with his hand that was around your shoulders and used that to push yourself even closer to him.Â
âOkay,â Eddie said, failing to bite back his grin. âHave fun watching a movie.â
âWe will,â Steve told him and gave your hand a light squeeze.Â
âIâll text you guys later,â You said to Danielle and Amy, who were looking at you with equally surprised but happy looks. After so many years of friendship, it was pretty easy to read each other, but you hoped that they couldnât see through what you were doing; you hoped you were faking all of this well enough.
Neither of them said anything, though, and they instead nodded and said different versions of âWeâll talk to you in the morning,â which let you know that they were just happy that you were actually following through with what they wanted you to do tonight.Â
Steve pulled his arm from around you and just went to normally holding your hand, and you two said final goodbyes to your friends and then headed away from the table. You two stayed practically attached at the hip until you were out of the door. The cold hit you immediately, but it wasnât too unbearable with your jacket on, although you still wished that you had opted for a better dress. You gave Steve a quick look as the bar door closed behind you both.  Â
âNice idea with the movie thing, even though Home Alone 2 is so random,â You said with a laugh. âThey all definitely think weâre about to go have sex in my apartment.â
âIâve kinda used that movie line before,â Steve said. âItâs been a while, but Robin and Eddie still know what it means.âÂ
You gave him an amused smile. âOkay, so Home Alone 2 is code for âIâm about to go hook up with this random girlâ?â
âNo, I donât use the same movie every time,â He laughed a little. âThat one was just the first thing that came to my mind this time.â
You nodded as you slipped your hand from his and you reached into the pocket of your jacket to pull out your phone. You opened the Uber app and ordered a car so that you could finally go home.Â
âSo, what are your plans for the rest of the night?â Steve asked as you slipped your phone back in your pocket.Â
âHead home and probably finish the bottle of wine that I had been drinking before my friends dragged me here, and then call my ex and leave very stupid voicemails.â
You didnât mean to be so honestâ if your friends had asked you that question, you wouldâve lied and avoided any and all mentions of Elliott because you wanted to make it seem like you were dealing with the breakup just fineâ but talking to Steve made you want to be truthful for some reason; maybe because you two were going through the same thing.Â
âThat doesnât sound like the best idea.â
âItâs not,â You agreed, but didnât say that you wouldnât still be following through with it.Â
Things became quiet as you two stood on this sidewalk, not at all as close as you two were when you were trying to play things up in front of your friends. There was actual space between you two for the first time in the last ten minutes, and you werenât looking at him anymore, instead, you were focused on the quiet street. The faint sounds of all the noise coming from inside the bar managed to fill the silence, and you wondered if this was the part where you two were supposed to go your separate ways. Now that you helped each other get what you both wanted, what else was there to say or do?Â
You were about to mumble something along the lines of âThanks for your help tonight,â but Steve was speaking before you could. âMy ex texted me earlier.â
Weirdly enough, you actually felt a little relieved that he was keeping the conversation going. You honestly didnât mind talking to him. There was something about this entire conversation that felt so simple and easy, even though you were talking about kind of shitty things.Â
You looked at him. âIs that a good thing or a bad thing?â
âMy friends would say bad. And a part of me knows itâs bad too, but I donât know,â He shrugged. âItâs kinda tempting.â
You understood what he meant completely, but you still gave him advice that you probably wouldnât have taken for yourself. âOkay, well, if my opinion matters at all in this, which I know it probably doesnât, you shouldnât text her back.â
âAnd then, in that case, you shouldnât drunk call your ex,â He reminded you.Â
âWhy did you two break up?â You asked instead of outwardly agreeing with his words.Â
âShe did it two weeks ago over the phone,â Steve told you. âShe said that things were feeling âoffâ between us and maybe they always had been.â
âOuch,â That word felt like an understatement to represent just how shitty breaking up with someone over a phone call was, but it was all you could manage to say right then.Â
He gave you a quick nod, breaking your gaze for a second, and then he threw the question your way. âWhat about you?â
âHe wanted to move to California, and I wanted to stay here,â You answered. That was the short version of it; the easy version of it.Â
âOkay, that sounds pretty amicable,â Steve responded.Â
You almost simply agreed with him just to let this part of the conversation end, but it didn't feel right doing that. For reasons you couldnât fully recognize just yet, you didnât want to lie to Steve.Â
âIt wasnât,â You admitted softly. âThe moving thing came up months ago, and if we were smart, we wouldâve just ended things then, but we didnât. I told him I didnât want to move, and he said that was fine, but it definitely wasnât fine. He started pulling away and being a dick, and we both became really shitty toward each other by the end of it until he finally broke up with me and then moved like he wanted to.â
âOkay, nevermind. That sounds like it sucked.â
âAnd yours seems pretty bad too,â You said. âDoing it over the phone is such a fucked move. Did you see it coming?â
âNo, but also yes, which probably doesnât even make sense,â He answered, and in your eyes, it did make sense, but you didnât interrupt him to tell him that. âThere was something that always felt âoffâ about us, but in the moment, it never seemed like that big of a deal. Looking back now, though, itâs so obvious that we were never gonna work, and I guess itâs kinda good that she ended it.â
âBut, she texted you today,â You reminded him.Â
âYeah,â He said and then sighed.Â
âI still donât think you should say anything back to her,â You told him. âNow, after hearing that she broke up with you over the phone, she definitely doesnât deserve a text back.â
âIf you donât call your ex tonight, I wonât text mine back,â Steve said, giving you a look that you couldnât fully decipher, but you were still nodding at his words.Â
âDeal,â You said and then held out your hand for him to shakeâ because it felt like the obvious thing to do, even if the âdealâ you two were making was a playful oneâ and he did. You didnât understand how his hand was still warm after being out in the cold for the past few minutes, but it was nice all the same.Â
As if on cue, a car pulled up in front of the bar with the all too familiar Uber sticker in its windshield. You looked at it for a quick second and then at your phone to make sure it was the right car. And then after that confirmation, you looked at Steve.Â
âYou coming?â
The confused look he gave you was immediate. âYou want me to?â
You nodded and smiled at him. âYeah, how else are we gonna make sure we both follow through with the deal we just made?â
âMakes sense,â Steve said, nodding back with a small, amused smile on his face, and then he followed you to the car.Â
You two sat on opposite ends in the backseat, and it was probably the first time all night that the silence between you two felt a little awkward. Â
âCan I read the text she sent you?â You asked, halfway through the ten-minute ride. âSorry, if thatâs weird, I donât know why Iâm so curious.âÂ
âNot weird,â Steve told you as he tapped on his phone for a second and then handed it over to you.Â
You took a brief look at the previous messages sent between them, which was a lot of simple stuff, and then you focused on the most recent one.Â
Iâve been thinking about you a lot today. Maybe we can meet up soon and talk? Let me know when youâre free.Â
It was hard not to roll your eyes at the message. It felt almost too painstakingly equivalent to something Elliott had said to you the day he moved out of your apartment. His one final attempt to get you to change your mind and move to California with him, as if all the damage to your relationship hadnât already been done.Â
You were about to hand Steve his phone back, but then you noticed something.Â
âSteve,â You said, looking at him in the darkness of the car. âWhy is there still a heart by her name?â
âI havenât gotten around to changing it yet,â He answered, which didnât sound like the best excuse to you because you thought about how promptly you had changed Elliottâs contact name to âAssholeâ once he left the apartment for the final time.Â
âAlright, let me do the honors for you,â You said as you deleted the red heart and then Monicaâs name entirely and simply put âEX.â âOkay, here you go.â
You handed the phone back to him, and he looked at what you did and then laughed a little. âI donât know why I thought you were gonna make it something a lot meaner.â
âIt was tempting,â You started. âBut, I donât know her, so I donât know what mean stuff wouldâve been the most fitting.â
Steve nodded as he slipped his phone back in his pocket. âWhatâs your exâs name?â
âAsshole in my contacts and Elliott in real life,â You answered and Steve laughed again and then said a quick, âGot it.â
You made it to your apartment building five minutes later and it took another five minutes, due to very shitty elevators, to make it to your actual apartment. Â
âWelcome to my place,â You said to Steve as you flicked on the light and then pulled off your jacket and hung it on one of the hooks by the front door, and slipped off your shoes.Â
âDid you just move in?â Steve asked, following suit and doing the same with his jacket, and then toeing off his shoes by the door as well.Â
The half-emptiness of your apartment didnât really faze you anymore, but you understood how unfinished the place looked to someone who was seeing it for the first time.Â
âOh, no, Iâve been here for almost three years now. When Elliott moved out, he took a lot of things, so it looks a little weird and half-decorated now,â You quickly explained, hoping that you successfully masked the sudden awkwardness in your voice because you now felt the tiniest bit embarrassed that you brought him here. âIâm still working on getting a new TV, so for now we can just watch something on my laptop if you want.â
Before Steve could say anything in response, you grabbed your laptop from where it sat on the small coffee table in your living room and then handed it over to him. âIâll be right back; I need to get out of this dress. But you can put on whatever you want.âÂ
âOkay,â You heard him say as you headed toward your bedroom.Â
It didnât hit you how sort of insane this entire situation was until you closed your bedroom door behind you, and you were left alone for the first time since you met Steve near the bar bathrooms. Now, logical thinking was kicking in, and you considered just how much of a bad idea all of this was.Â
There was a guy who you barely knew in your apartment, and you had no plans on having sex with him, so this wouldnât end up being a one-night stand kind of thing. So, what would happen instead? You two would simply talk and genuinely watch a movie, and then what?
Although you had no idea what the answer to that question was, it actually didnât completely scare you. Because yes, this was kind of an odd set of circumstances, but you and Steve were going through the same thing, and that somehow made everything feel different. You werenât nervous around him, and you hadnât been all night; instead, things had felt weirdly easy, you realized. And you decided to keep leaning into that easy feeling and not overthink whatever this was or would be. Â
You slipped out of your dress and put on what was probably the most comfortable pair of pajama pants you owned and a simple t-shirt. When you stepped out of your bedroom and headed back into the living room, you saw Steve sitting on the couch, and a small, slightly amused smile tugged at your lips as you noticed what was playing on your laptop, which was opened up and back on the coffee table.
âOkay, I definitely didnât expect you to put on a nature documentary,â You said as you sat down next to him, leaving a fair amount of space between you two. âI donât know why I thought youâd put on something super boyish. Like, Die Hard or one of the million Fast and Furious movies.â
âOh, I was planning on putting on Die Hard after this,â He said, and you immediately took notice of the playful tilt in his voice.
âAn ocean documentary and Die Hard sounds like a solid double feature,â You joked back with a smile, and Steve laughed in response and then proceeded to tell you that this documentary was specifically about whales.Â
A comfortable silence began to linger as you grabbed the throw blanket that was folded on the back of the couch and spread it over your lap and then offered some of it to Steve, which he acceptedâ it was long enough to fit you both comfortably even though you werenât right next to each other. And then you focused on the documentary and the Australian narrator talking about the vastness of the ocean.Â
âWe can watch something else if you want,â Steve abruptly said about five minutes in. His words slightly surprised you because you had actually been finding the documentary pretty interesting so far and you hadnât done anything to show otherwise. âMy friends always hate when I put this on.â
You looked away from the laptop screen and at him. âHow often do you watch this?â
âWhenever Iâm not feeling great,â He answered, turning a little to look at you too. âLike, sick or sad.â
âOkay, and with your breakup, I guess this has been on repeat these past two weeks?â You asked, and the nod he gave you in response made you think that he was embarrassed by that answer, and you immediately wanted to make him not feel that way. âMy personal sad go-to has been putting on this one reality show where people do dumb obstacle courses to win money. Thereâs like twenty seasons of that show and Iâm halfway through it.â
âThatâs what we should actually watch after this,â Steve said, giving you a playful smile.Â
âYeah, and we can wallow in our collective sadness,â You nodded in agreement, which made him laugh. âAnd this will probably sound weird or just not even make sense, but Iâm not even sad about me and him breaking up, because I know that it definitely needed to happen. Iâm sad about basically wasting the last two years of my life with someone who didnât end up being âthe oneâ or whatever. Thinking about that feels so much worse than the breakup itself.â
Steve gave you a look that you couldnât decipher at all. It was probably the first time all night that you felt slightly self-conscious under his gaze. You got the urge to look away from him and focus back on the whales on screen, but you didnât.Â
Instead, your eyebrows furrowed. âWhy are you looking at me like that?â
âSorry, itâs just, I feel the exact same way pretty much,â He told you. âIâm not really that sad that Monica broke up with me, I just feel really stupid that we were even together in the first place. She didnât really like my friends and would always make fun of my job.â
âDidnât you say you work at a record store? What is there to make fun of about that?âÂ
âShe would say a lot of stuff about how âitâs a job thatâs going nowhere,â but then play it off like she was just joking.âÂ
You were unable to hold back your grimace. âWow, that sounds terrible.â
You noticed the embarrassed look cross his face and you felt the immediate need to change it. Â
âSorry, sorry, Iâm not judging,â You quickly told him. âElliott called me a lot of mean things by the end, and I still stayed with him, so I know all about making dumb decisions in a relationship.â
Steve frowned at your words. âHow mean?â
âSo mean that youâre actually the first person Iâve even mentioned that to. It still feels way too embarrassing to bring it up to my friends,â You admitted, and it was then that you had to finally look away from him. âI donât really get why itâs so easy to talk to you.â
âProbably because weâre basically strangers,â Steve said, and after considering his words for a second, you nodded. âAnd fuck him, by the way, for whatever mean shit he said to you. That sounds pretty terrible too.â
âThatâs why I wanted to call him tonight and leave equally as mean drunk voicemails, but you talked me out of it,â You said, finally meeting Steveâs eyes again. âYouâre right, though, it wouldâve been stupid to do that.â
Steve shook his head. âOh, when you said that, I thought you meant that you wanted to leave the sappy kind of drunk voicemails where you talk about wanting to get back with him or something.âÂ
âOh, no way. I was just gonna list off a bunch of bad things about him,â You responded. âLike, the kinds of things that when youâre dating the person, it just seems like a little quirk or bad habit that you can overlook, but in hindsight youâre like, why did I put up with any of that, yâknow?â
Steve nodded understandingly. âCan I hear the list?âÂ
âYou sure you wanna hear me rant about my ex?â You asked him with an amused smile, and Steve laughed a little and nodded again. âOkay, he would always forget to turn off stuff before he left the apartment; the TV, lights, anything really. He never did the dishes and would always get a little annoyed when I asked him to do it. Oh, and he hated whenever I would beat him at any kind of games.âÂ
âThatâs a very solid list.â
âAlso, he,â You started and then immediately cut yourself off, realizing that maybe you should have at least somewhat of a filter. âNevermind, itâs stupid.â
Steve gave you a look. âWait, now you have to say it.â
âHe neverâŠâ You looked away from Steveâs curious gaze and instead focused on the blanket draped over your lap. You pulled at a random loose string as you said your next words. âHe never went down on me.â
âReally?â He asked, and you simply nodded because it suddenly felt too hard to form words right then. âYou were together for almost two years, and he didnât do it once?â
You nodded again and then finally found your voice. âHe said he wasnât a âfanâ of it. Meanwhile, he loved when I gave him a blowjob.âÂ
It was pretty obvious that your filter was completely gone at this point; if it had ever even really been there in the first place when it came to Steve.Â
âWow.â
You tilted your head at him. âI canât tell what that wow means.â
âIt means that heâs an idiot and you shouldâve been the one dumping him, not the other way around, and also, once again, heâs definitely an idiot.â
You laughed a little. âWoah, who knew one word could mean so much?â
âYeah, it has a ton of connotations to it,â Steve joked, smiling at you.Â
You both went back to watching the documentary on your laptop, but there was something about this part of the conversation that didnât feel over yet. You didnât feel like you could just go back to watching this whale documentary as if you hadnât just admitted the most embarrassing thing about your sex life. Â
âUm, what about you, though?â You asked, and Steve looked at you again, a confused furrow to his eyebrows like he didnât fully get what you meant by the question, so you elaborated. âWhat was shitty about your sex life?â
Steve was quiet at first, and for a second, you thought that maybe for the first time that night, you two had reached a question that was âtoo much,â or worse, there had been nothing bad about his sex life with his ex, so he had no answer to give you. Â
âUm, she always wanted to do the same thing,â Steve finally answered after what felt like the longest stint of silence ever, and you were completely confused by that response.Â
âWhat do you mean?â
âShe only wanted to do missionary. Nothing else,â He explained. âAnd I know that itâs a classic, I get that completely, and it definitely is. But sometimes you just wanna change things up, yâknow?â
You nodded instead of outwardly saying anything because you didnât want to admit that aside from the lack of oral, your sex life with Elliott had been pretty good.Â
âSo, almost a year of just missionary?â You asked, and Steve gave you a nod that seemed equivalent to the one youâd given him when it was you answering this kind of question. âWhat would you do if you could choose?â
You noticed his cheeks turning the tiniest hint of pink as he considered the question. âOh, um, girl on top, I think. That oneâs pretty good.âÂ
You werenât sure why you expected him to say something a little crazier, but you didnât tell him that.Â
âGood choice,â Was what you said instead.Â
There was another lull in the conversation, and maybe that was where it shouldâve finally ended, but there was something about it that still didnât feel entirely over just yet.Â
âI couldââ
âWe couldââ
Your and Steveâs suddenly spoken words stumbled over each other and made you both stop abruptly. Â
âWhat were you gonna say?â He asked.
You shook your head. âYou can go first.â
âNo, no, Iâm a gentleman,â Steve told you, a small smile on his face. âSo, ladies first.â
You rolled your eyes at him, but there was nothing serious behind it. âI was gonna say that maybe we could⊠Maybe we could help each other out. Like, show one another what the other was âmissing out onâ while they were in their relationship.â You then rushed out your next words before Steve could respond to your previous ones. âWhat were you gonna say?â
âI was gonna say that I could do what your ex didnât want to do for you.â
âJust me?â You asked, and he nodded. âWell, it wouldnât be fair if you got nothing out of this.â
Steve gave you a quick shrug. âI wasnât really thinking about me.â
You teasingly smiled at him. âWow, you truly are a gentleman.â
He laughed. âI told you.â
âIf we did actually do this, though,â You started. âI would also wanna do your thing too.â
âYeah?â
You nodded. âYeah. If you go down on me, Iâll happily ride you.âÂ
Finally outwardly saying the words made you laugh a little; you couldnât help it. None of what was happening right then felt exactly weird, but it was definitely⊠surprising. Â
âThis is such an insane conversation,â Steve responded, laughing too.Â
âOh, yeah, it definitely is,â You said, looking away from him and focusing back on your laptop screen for a second. âWe could just go back to watching the documentary and pretend this never happened.â
âIs that what you wanna do?â
âNot really, no,â You admitted. Logically, your answer probably shouldâve been the opposite, but you honestly couldnât imagine saying yes to his previous question and actually pretending that this conversation hadnât happened. âDo you?â
Steve shook his head. âNo.â
âOkay, so itâs settled then. Should we shake on this too?â You asked, mainly joking with your words.Â
âYes, definitely,â He said, playing along. âThatâs the only way it will be real.â
You scooted a little closer to him, closing most of the space between you two on the couch, and then held out your hand. âSo, deal?â
He grabbed your outstretched hand and shook it. âDeal.â
This was the second handshake shared between you two, but this one felt charged with something different than the one outside the bar.Â
Steveâs hand was warm against yours, and you were also noticing how soft it was too. Your eyes stayed on his, and even though you didnât really know him that well, if at all, you still felt as if you somehow understood what was going on in his head because it matched exactly what was happening in yours.Â
With your hands still linked together, he pulled you closer, and then let go at the last second to find your cheek and slot his lips against yours. It was messy at first, a sudden clash of tongues and teeth, but it also felt really good, and it took only a second for you two to find your collective rhythm. Â
Steve was a great kisser, which surprised you because first kisses with people were never this good, and they definitely never felt this right. There were always some sort of growing pains as you navigated what to do and figured out what the other wanted, but that somehow wasnât the case for you and Steve.Â
You definitely didnât expect your first post-Elliott kiss to be damn near perfect, and you decided not to think too much about what exactly it meant that it was happening with Steve; a guy youâd barely known for two hours.Â
âYouâre really good at this,â You mumbled against his lips.Â
âWhat? Kissing?â He whispered back in between each one.Â
âYeah.â
Steve pulled back to look at you, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. âThanks. Youâre really good too.â
You suddenly started feeling shy under his gaze, so you quickly leaned back in to get him to stop looking at you so sweetly. His hand still holding your cheek kept you steady and further warmed your already burning skin, and you let out the softest sound against his mouth when his free hand slipped beneath your shirt and found your waist, giving the bare skin a quick squeeze.Â
You wanted to move out of this awkward side-by-side position and sit in his lap, but you also wanted to get off the couch completely, so you abruptly pulled away from him and stood up. Wordlessly, your hand found Steveâs again, and you led him to your bedroom.Â
The second the door was closed behind you both, Steveâs mouth eagerly found yours again, which made you smile into the kiss, as he walked you back toward the bed. The second the backs of your knees hit the foot of the bed, he gently pushed you down on top of it. Â
Before he could even ask or say anything, you were pulling your t-shirt off and tossing it somewhere to the side, and then doing the same with your pajama pants. The look he gave you as you now lay on your bed, half naked with only your bra and underwear on, made something stir in your stomach.Â
âYou okay up there?â You asked after a moment, making your voice light and playful, and also trying to push away the feelings that were starting to make a home in your stomach.Â
âYeah, Iâm fine, itâs just⊠Fuck,â He let out a breath. âYouâre really pretty.â
You had to turn your head and look away from him then, but you still couldnât help but smile at his words as your cheek pressed into the blanket.Â
This was just supposed to be another case of two people helping each other out. This wasnât supposed to be so sweet and nice and serious, right? You werenât sure, but you could inwardly admit that you liked hearing him call you pretty.Â
You still werenât looking, but you could feel Steve settle on top of you and lean in to press his lips to your exposed neck, making you let out a quiet moan.Â
He sucked on your skin, a sensitive spot on the underside of your jaw that had you mewling for him, as his hand moved down toward your cunt. He pulled your underwear to the side and slowly pressed his middle finger into your slick folds.Â
âShit,â He mumbled against your neck. âYouâre soaked.â
You let out a soft breath. âLike I said, youâre really good at this.â
He pulled away from your clit and out of your wetness completely and you let out a whine in protest, but then his fingers were hooking into the waistband of your underwear and dragging them down your legs. Your bra was next, and you sat up a bit so that he could unhook it and toss it to the side.Â
âFuck,â Steve said, leaning back to simply just look at you for a moment. âYou look so perfect for me.â
You were completely naked now, and he was still fully clothed, but you didnât even feel shy under his lust-filled gaze because you really liked the way he was looking at you in this moment.
Before you could make any move to grab at the ends of his t-shirt to at least pull that off of him, his mouth was on you once again, pressing a quick kiss to your lips and then moving to your neck and continuing lower and lower.Â
Your eyes slipped shut, and you let out the softest sounds as he slowly trailed down your stomach and went to your hips and then to your inner thighs, teasingly pressing his mouth against your warm skin at every spot. You felt his hands hook around your thighs and pull you closer to him.Â
âHey,â Steve said to grab your attention, and your eyes met his. Looking at him with his head between your legs and his mouth so close to where you needed him to be was probably the hottest thing youâd ever seen. âTell me if you want me to do anything differently, okay?â
You nodded before softly saying, âOkay.â
Your head fell back against the bed when his tongue ran a long slow stripe up your slit. He stopped at your clit, circling the bundle of nerves before latching his lips around it and giving it a quick suck. The gasp in pleasure and surprise you let out in response was immediate.Â
After one too many rejections from Elliott, you told yourself that you didnât like oral anyway, always reminding yourself of other times with past partners when it had been rushed and sloppy. But now you knew just how much youâd been lying to yourself because this felt fucking phenomenal. Steveâs mouth felt perfect on you, and there was nothing about this moment that felt rushed or half-baked, like he was just trying to quickly get to the next thing.Â
He slipped two fingers inside of you, pushing in as deep as he could go and his mouth went to your clit again. Your fingers threaded through his hair as he lapped at the sensitive bundle of nerves. Steve could tell just how much you were enjoying yourself with every tug on his hair and the contented sounds you were making above him.Â
His hand still on your thigh squeezed roughly as he started to suck hard on your clit, which pushed you closer and closer to the edge. It shouldâve maybe felt a little embarrassingâ how quickly he was about to make you come only from his mouth and fingersâ but everything just felt so fucking good that you didnât care how fast he was making the tight knot in your stomach feel as if it was going to explode.Â
âSteve, I- Iâm gonna⊠Fuck,â You trailed off with a loud moan. Words were alluding in this moment as Steve continued his ministrations against your dripping cunt; his mouth on the most sensitive part of you and his fingers deep inside you, curling against an almost too perfect spot. Â
Your own fingers pulled a little harder at his dark locks, which made him moan against your clit and the vibrations from that abruptly sent you over the edge.Â
âIâm coming, Iâm coming,â The words fell from your lips in a sort of whispered chant as your back arched sharply off the bed and you saw stars behind your eyes.Â
Steve continued exactly what he was doing as you came, your moans and whimpers sounding like music to his ears. He happily took and lapped at everything you gave him, absolutely loving the taste of you on his tongue. He continued to finger you and eat you out through your orgasm until he felt you become too overstimulated.Â
âFuck,â You squeaked out when his tongue did one final teasing lick against the sensitive bundle of nerves. âFuck, that was really good.â
Steve pulled away, and he sat up a little, smiling as he watched you come down from your high. âIâm sorry youâve had to miss out on that for the past two years.â
You let out a breath of a laugh. âThank you for the condolences.âÂ
Your heart rate slowly returned to normal, and you turned to Steve, who was now sitting next to you, and you took notice of the obvious tint in his jeans.Â
You reached out to palm his hard length. âGirl on top is what you wanted, right?â
He let out a low groan. âMhm, yeah, but only if you want to do that.â
âSteve,â You said so his eyes would meet yours, and then you proceeded to give him the reassurance that it seemed so clear that he needed. âI really want to do that for you.â
He looked at you so sweetly, and this time you didnât look away, you simply just smiled back at him as you crawled into his lap.Â
Your fingers immediately grabbed the ends of his t-shirt to pull it up and off of him. âLetâs make things even, yeah?â
He nodded, and you shifted back a bit so that you could work on the button of his jeans. You then lifted your hips so that he could push his jeans and boxers down his legs and off him completely.Â
Your eyes became glued to his hard cock. You didnât really know what you were expecting, but he was huge and you could feel yourself becoming wetter at the thought of him filling you up.Â
âYou have such a pretty cock, Steve,â You whispered as you wrapped a hand around him and brushed your thumb over his slick tip. He groaned in pleasure, and one of his hands immediately found your hip in response, squeezing the bare skin.Â
A part of you wanted him to be rougher; you honestly didnât mind the thought of finding Steve-shaped bruises on your skin in the morning. However, you didnât tell him that because this moment wasnât about you. Â
âDoes that feel good?â You asked instead, voice soft and gentle, as if you couldnât tell the answer to your question just by all the sounds Steve was making and by the way he was twitching in your hand.Â
âPerfect,â He groaned out, eyes meeting yours just for a second before he was looking down and watching as you kept slowly stroking him from base to tip. âFucking perfect.â
You smiled and wondered if this was how he felt when the roles were reversed and you were the one who was a mess below him.Â
âShit, I need,â Steve let out a strangled breath and his head fell back against the headboard with a soft thud. âReally need to be inside of you.â
You nodded, even though he wasnât looking at you, and let go of him to reach over and grab a condom from your nightstand drawer. Â
Steve watched as you tore open the foil packet and slipped the condom on his cock; it was probably one of the hottest things heâd ever seen.Â
âDo you want me to turn around and take it that way, or like, how do you want this?â You asked, meeting his half lidded eyes as you went back to stroking his cock. After what heâd just done for you, you wanted this to be perfect for him.Â
âNo, I wanna see you,â He said, free hand coming up to gently stroke your cheek.Â
You could feel your skin warm under his touch; somehow, that felt like the most intimate thing heâd done to you so far tonight. You nodded at his words instead of saying anything because you were pretty certain your words wouldâve failed you anyway.Â
You lifted your hips so that you could line him up with your slick entrance and then your eyes met his as you slowly lowered yourself onto him, completely taking his cock inside of you.Â
Your and Steveâs collective moans filled the quiet air, and you were the one to break eye contact with him because your eyes were pinching shut.Â
Both of his hands shot to your hips to keep you from moving, which was good because you needed a moment to adjust to the feeling of being so full of him. Â
âShit, Iâm gonna fucking explode if you move right now,â Steve mumbled, looking down at how well you were taking him.Â
âThatâs okay,â You told him softly. Your hands rested on his shoulders for a quick moment, and then they tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck.Â
He let out a chuckle and met your gaze. âI want this to last more than two seconds.â One of his hands came up to find your breast. âAnd I also want you to come with me.â
You hummed at the feeling of his fingers squeezing your already hard nipple. âStill such a gentleman.â
Steve laughed again, and that sound turned into a low groan when you lifted your hips ever so slightly and then sank back down onto him.Â
âGod, you feel so good,â He rambled out. âTaking me so fucking well.â
His words sent a jolt of pleasure through your body. ââM so full.â
âYeah?â Steve asked teasingly, and you simply nodded, words failing you the moment he pushed up into you.Â
Whatever control you had was lost. You were technically riding him, but he was doing most of the work, and it seemed as if that was exactly what he wanted. He had a near-bruising grip on your hips as he guided your movements and hit all of the right places with each thrust.Â
Your face became buried in his neck when it all felt like too much. âFuck, Iâm so close.âÂ
Your words were whispered against his soft skin, and you could feel his nod in response. âYeah, me too.â
He slipped a hand between your bodies so that he could find your clit and you sucked in a breath when his thumb started circling it.
âI wanna see you,â He groaned when he felt you clench around his cock, and at first all you could do was hum against his skin in response. âI wanna see you come for me.â
You pulled back and met his gaze, hands finding his bare shoulders to keep you steady. It was harder to do than you expected because of how much you wanted to let your eyes slip shut and simply just take everything Steve was giving you.Â
âHi,â You softly said to him instead of closing your eyes or letting your head fall back in pleasure due to his teasing strokes against your clit.Â
âHi,â He gave you a smile that made your stomach flutter and his hand on your hip pulled you harder against his cock. âYou gonna come for me?â
You could only moan in response and give him a meek nod, forcing your eyes to stay on his. The knot in your stomach was tightening and tightening, almost ready to completely unravel.Â
âGo ahead,â He said as he thrusted up into you. âLet go.â
âAh,â You dug your nails into his shoulders the second your orgasm hit you. He looked at you so fondly, like he truly cared about making you feel good, and that only made you come harder, walls fluttering around his cock.Â
You once again buried your face in the crook of his neck, sucking the skin and leaving red marks that would be there later. You landed on what you would later realize was an especially sensitive spot on his neck because the second your tongue grazed over it, Steve was letting out a loud moan and spilling into the condom.Â
âFuck,â He muttered as he came and his hands squeezed your hips to keep you firmly planted on his cock.Â
You pulled away from his neck to watch him come apart beneath you. It was probably the prettiest thing you'd ever seenâ his blown-out pupils, his mouth slightly parted in a moan, and a few locks of his messy hair falling against his forehead.Â
Your and his movements slowed as you both came down from your highs. With his hands still on you, he shifted things so that you two were lying sideways on the bed. His softening cock slipped out of you in the process and you couldnât help but quietly whine at the feeling.Â
You two became a tangle of limbs and warm bodies, and your arms circled around his neck to push yourself even closer to him.Â
âWas that good for you?â You asked, soft words hitting right against his ear. âYou did like all of the work when it shouldâve been the opposite.âÂ
His fingers began mindlessly stroking the bare skin of your back. âNo, that was really good.âÂ
âMm,â You hummed in response. âOkay, but it does slightly feel like I ended up getting a better outcome to the deal than you.âÂ
Steve let out a laugh at your playful words as he pulled away from you, and it took a lot of willpower to not protest his actions and keep him close to you. He pointed at a door, silently asking if that was where the bathroom was, and you nodded in response and he headed in.
You got up from your bed and started picking up the clothes that had been haphazardly thrown around the room. You slipped on your t-shirt and underwear, and when Steve emerged from the bathroom, you handed him his shirt and boxers.
It almost felt a little comical remembering that when you first let Steve into your apartment, you inwardly told yourself that you werenât gonna have sex with him, and this wouldnât turn into a one-night stand type of situation.Â
And now here you two were.Â
However, weirdly enough, the thought of this moment following the typical one-night stand rulesâ Steve leaving right now and you two never seeing each other againâ didnât sit right with you.Â
âHave you really not seen Home Alone 2 before?â You asked Steve as he finished slipping on his t-shirt. The talk of that movie had been such a minor moment in the conversation at the bar earlier, but still, you remembered him mentioning it.Â
âNo, I havenât,â He answered.Â
âMe neither, actually,â You told him. Christmas movies had never really been your favorites. âDo you maybe wanna watch it now?â
You knew what your words meantâ that you didnât want him to leave yet, that you wanted him to stay a little longerâ and he understood that too.Â
He gave you a small smile and nodded. âOkay. And this is probably the best time to also admit that Iâve never seen the first one either.â
You let out a laugh as you headed into your living room, where your laptop was still playing the documentary from earlier, and Steve followed right behind you. âOkay, double feature it is, then.â
how his fingers could taste like the last cigarette he smoked or the cheeto dust from the last snack he had.
how after a shower, he stands in a low hanging towel, and clips his nails but not too much. you like them long enough so you can feel them when he scratches your back before bed. if he doesnât clip them, he usually will chew them.
how every time he puts on his rings, he asks you which one should go on which hand. you always put the one you gave him for his birthday on his left ring finger because duh.
how when heâs on the phone, he has to wrap his fingers through the cord and tangle it.
how he loves you massage you, from your feet all the way up to your neck. and his hands are like magic on the knots in your back and shoulders. you always joke that he could be a masseuse. ïżŒ
how when he fucks you with those delectable fingers, you demand his free hand to be wrapped around your throat or in your mouth.
(nsfw)...Cowboy!Clark who calls you his âlittle honeysuckleâ as a sweet, filthy nickname because the taste of your pussy reminds him of the delicate honeysuckle flowers that used to grow along the fence back home on the farm.
Every spring heâd lean over that fence and spend long, lazy minutes sipping the tiny droplets of nectar from the blooms, savoring their light, sugary sweetness on his tongue. Now he spends those same long, lazy minutes between your thighs, burying his face in your soaked cunt and pulling that same sweet nectar from you with slow, hungry licks and deep, greedy sucksâgroaning like heâs found something even better than the flowers ever gave him.
He whispers it low and rough while heâs got your legs draped over his broad shoulders, voice muffled against your dripping folds: âFuck, little honeysuckle⊠youâre drippinâ so sweet for me tonight.â
He growls it against your clit when heâs teasing you right to the edge, flicking his tongue just how you like it: âCâmon, honeysuckle, give me more of that sugar. Let me drink you up.â
And he rasps it like a prayer when he finally sinks his thick cock into you, forehead pressed to yours, hips rolling deep and steady: âThatâs it, my little honeysuckle⊠soak my dick just like those pretty flowers soaked my tongue.â
He never lets you forget itâevery time he eats your pussy, heâs chasing that same addictive, sun-warmed sweetness he remembers from home.
a/n: this is like superrrr self indulgent bc honeysuckle flowers used to grow through my neighbors fence into my yard & i would lick them up every year & then they randomly stopped </3
Summary: just because you and Spencer have gotten together, does not mean the fun fact challenge is over to you (fluff, established relationship)
Note:Â Thank you for all of the love on fun fact. You guys are the best xx. In honor of fun fact hitting 1K notes, here is a bonus bit that did not make it to the final draft bc of the big word count (I was so sure not many people would read an 11k long fic, but thank you for proving me wrong).
Word count: 1k
You walked into the office, shrugging off the purple cardigan that was slightly bigger than your usual size and draping it over your chair. As usual, you placed your bag under your desk and turned on your PC before settling down, ready to focus for the day. Though, the second you spotted Spencer approaching, you instantly announced your daily fun fact.
âDid you know that peanut butter can be turned into diamonds? Fun fact.â From the corner of your eyes, you saw Emily pause at your statement. Spencer, on the other hand, grinned at your words.
âGood morning.â Spencer placed his coffee cup down on his desk first before coming to your side, holding yours out for you. You carefully took the ceramic vessel from him, muttering gratitude at his kind action. His other hand lingered on your back before withdrawing out of respect for the fact that you were both clocked in at work.Â
His eyes soon noticed the clothing item that hung on your chair.Â
âWas wondering where that one went,â your boyfriend murmured.
Boyfriend. Even after three months and having grown used to calling Spencer by that title, you still feel giggly at such a term. In fact, your lips curled right then while thinking of the word again.
You took in Spencerâs attire, specifically, the way that his purple button-up (coincidentally) matched the purple cardigan you had stolen from him two weeks ago. For a split second, you considered coordinating outfits deliberately with him, but in subtle ways.
âHold on a second, peanut butter can what?â Emily double checked.
âI know, right?â you breathed out before reaching under your desk and pulling out an information-packed tome, dropping the heavy object onto the furnitureâs surface.Â
It was Rossiâs courtesy. A month and a half ago, the old man decided to give you a fact book in hopes you could still win this bet before eight months were up. Unfortunately, his gift was unable to aid you much in your intellectual combat against Spencer, and thus, failed to prevent Rossiâs loss of his bet on a victory before the eight-month mark.Â
You carefully opened to the page where you had seen the fact and held it up for Emily to see.
âWell, would you consider having a peanut butter diamond ring?â she joked, though Spencer quickly jumped in.
âActually, I would advise against it. Oftentimes, the lab-manufactured results are small. So theyâre unsuitable for proposal rings.â His words almost felt personal with the way Spencerâs eyes fell to your hand, and you smirked teasingly.
âWhy? You think I should have a big diamond instead of a small rock?â Instantly, your boyfriendâs ears grew hot, and you almost laughed at the way he started stuttering.Â
âWell, I justâon average, women tend to prefer a sizable diamond ring when proposed to. But also, likeâwell, I meanâyouââ
âMe?â
âWith your finger sizeââ
âHow do you know my finger size?â
âYour ring was next to a couple of coins the other dayââ
âOh? And you decided to notice and remember this information, why?â You smirked, enjoying the way your relentless teasing was turning Spencer into a mess. But in all honesty, you were not that surprised. Spencerâs brain often stored information that most tend to overlook.
âYeah, Spencer. Planning to drop down on one knee soon?â Emilyâs added effort to poke at Spencer only made him more flustered, though the genius eventually was able to overcome it and continued speaking.
âWith your finger size, the most suitableâpreferences asideâwould be a 1.0-1.5 carat diamond ring, and the peanut butter manufactured ones would be nowhere near that. Besides, diamonds made of peanut butter are often discolored largely due to impurities such as hydrogen and nitrogen, which are non-carbon components, getting trapped during diamond formation processes that involve high heat. Meanwhile, diamonds are mainly made of carbon atoms.â
âWould you like to know my diamond size preference, Spence?â was your only reply, and those words had Spencerâs face blooming bright red. Once again, he stammered to organise his words, yet a sentence could not be strung together.
Together, you and Emily burst out laughing at Spencerâs speechless state. Though the two of you began shifting to get back to work. Emily returned to her own desk, amusement lingering on her face. Meanwhile, you slowly spun your chair back to your PC, your laughter replaced by a full-on smile.
Yet, Spencer did not move from his spot. In fact, the sight of you smiling and your eyes crinkling had Spencerâs gaze softening.
Eighty seven days since he had told you that you were his favorite fun fact, a title Spencer continued to frequently refer to you as.
Prior to the prospect of you two, Spencer had made peace with a mundane dating-less life, living in a repetitive monotone manner. But now that he has you, that kind of life sounded dreadful. With you, mundane things became highlights of his day and the staples of his boyfriend-adjusted daily routine.
But above all, every day, he got to learn new things about you, like where you like to read in your apartment, how you like to separate your laundry, or your preferred side of the bed. Each and every new detail he discovered folded into the wrinkles of his brain like all along, the organ was made just to hold facts about you.
The genius bit back a smile.
That afternoon, Spencer walked you to your car like always. But instead of saying goodbye and heading off to the metro station by himself like before, the genius got into your passenger seat, and the two of you left the office together. As you were driving both of you back to his apartment, Spencerâs eyes darted to your hand again.
Calling you his forever favorite fun fact instead?
Spencer found himself really liking the sound of that.
The corner of his lips lifted before he looked away.
Maybe someday.
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Summary: You came in to work every day with a fun fact, determined to catch the BAU's genius with one that he wouldn't know (friends to lovers, co-workers to lovers, mutual feelings, fluff, confession)
Note: my spencer reid debut fic <3 sorry if there are any inaccuracy, just started rewatching after 3 years
Word count: 10.9k (sorry)Â
âSmall facts lead to great knowingâ - Patrick Rothfuss (2011)
âI canât believe anybody would do something like this,â you commented whilst looking down at the two documents in your handsâyour thoroughly highlighted case dossier and your finished report. Every new case always exhibits unimaginable horror and unfortunately, there will always be something worse than your current worst.Â
You turned to Spencer whilst perched cross-legged on the edge of his table.
The corner of the geniusâs mouth curled at your words. They were the very same ones that sprouted daily despite the nature of your job. But to Spencer, there was a strange comfort in such small repetitive murmurs of disbelief.
âI gotta agree with Rossi. This job really includes some of the worst lunatics out there.â You sighed before straightening up at a sudden thought. âActually, fun factâŠâ You noticed the way your words peeled Spencerâs attention from his report. He finally glanced up, eager for the second half of that sentence.Â
âThe word lunatic was invented based on the belief that mental illnesses were affected by moon phases.â You beamed at the idea of potentially providing your genius friend with new knowledge.Â
âYeah, and it actually originated from the Latin word âlunaticus,â which means moonstruck or influenced by the moon. The word was first used for conditions like epilepsy or overall just madness,â Spencer replied, perking up at the thought of a potential conversation about this.
The excited smile on your face instantly faltered and you groaned in feigned annoyance. Perhaps you should have known better than to think you could out-fact Spencer and say something he had not already known.
âIs there anything you donât know, Spence?â you glowered jokingly.
âWell, itâs hard when youâre a child prodigy and genius.â You let out a scoff-like laugh at Spencerâs cocky admission, but you knew he was joking. Despite his IQ of 187, Spencer rarely ever announced himself a genius. It was a title dubbed by those around him. You knew if you had Spencerâs brain, though, you would hardly ever stay as humble as him.
âIâll get you someday.â
Your declaration drew a snort from another work desk and you twisted around to face the source of such a faithless sound.
âYou donât believe in me, Derek?â You arched a brow, your competitiveness rising to the surface.
âSweet girl, I believe in you for many things, but this is just not one of them.â
âBut surely there is one single fact out there that Spencer doesnât know about.â Penelope piped up from next to Derek, defending you.
âWeâre talking about the same Spencer, right? Spencer Reid? Three PhDs and an IQ of Einstein?â JJ spoke as she made her way down the bullpen.
âActually, there is no way of measuring Einsteinâs IQ as he never took the test, so to say thatââ Derek quickly interrupted Spencer.
âCome on, pretty boy. Sheâs backing you up.â
âSounds like grounds to start a betting pool going,â Rossi spoke up as he approached the whole group, briefcase in one hand, car keys in the other. â$20 says sheâll do it within four months.â
âI think she can do it within three months.â Emily chimed up from her desk.
âIâm placing my bet on eight months,â Penelope added confidently.
âAlright, and if she canât do it within one year, JJ and I will split the win,â Derek announced before directing his next words to you, âStakes are on, sweetheart.â He winked.
âYeah, yeah. I got it.â You rolled your eyes before turning towards Spencer, declaring to him with exaggerated cockiness, âIâm gonna get you real soon, just wait.â
âYouâre welcome to try.â The challenging glint in Spencerâs eyes met your own. Again, you knew better than to think that you would know something Spencer did not already know. He was practically the master of facts. But, unfortunately, you were incredibly bad at quitting.
So, let the challenge begin.
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âDid you know that Australia is wider than the moon?â you questioned the second you saw Spencer enter the office the next morning. âFun fact.â
âYes, diameter-wise. Australia is almost 4,000 kilometres wide, while the moonâs diameter is nearly 3,500 kilometres. However, in terms of their masses, the moon is still larger.â You sighed dramatically at Spencerâs reply before spinning your chair towards your computer, turning the device on.
âAnd day one status: unsuccessful,â you grunted to yourself, catching Spencerâs grin from your peripheral vision.
âOh? Itâs gonna be daily?â
âYou bet your ass itâs gonna be. Thereâs a betting pool and Iâm unfortunately too competitive for my own good.â You caught the amusement dancing in Spencerâs gaze.Â
âWell then, good luck.â
âWonât need it.â
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âDid you know a cloud can weigh like a million pounds?â You crossed your arms while peering at the cotton candy-like objects floating amidst the bright blue summer sky. âFun fact.â
Both of you had your bulletproof vests on, leaning against a car while waiting for JJ to finish speaking to the press before driving back to the precinct. Another case wrapped. Another unsub locked up.
Under the nice weather, you had your cap and Spencerâs sunglasses on, having forgotten yours. He had heavily insisted so, even after you had declined a handful of times.
You turned and looked at Spencer briefly. Though, for a split second, your body stilled as the sun played in his favor, casting nice highlights to his woodsy colored locks. The light crinkle of his nose and his squinting eyes made your lips curl, cause once again, it showcased just how self-sacrificing Spencer can be when it came to the people close to him.
âYeah, because they contain different states of matter like trillions of condensed water droplets and ice crystals. Its weight is equivalent to the worldâs largest aircraft working at full capacity. Though despite its heaviness, clouds have lower density in comparison to the dry air around them, enabling them to float in the same way as oil floats on water.â Spencer tried to maintain eye contact with you despite the blaring sun shining into his eyes.
âHmmâŠâ you pursed your lips before removing your navy blue cap and placing it on your friendâs head. This cast a shadow over his eyes, blocking the harsh sun from blinding his vision. âBeautiful weather to fail at winning this fun fact thing again.â
Spencer didnât reject the clothing item.
Some time in the history of human beings, the act of sporting othersâ clothing itemsâespecially of the opposite genderâhad been made to seem important. Spencer has never understood the significance in such a small exchange. But as your hat landed on his head, Spencer felt an added weight that was beyond the small clothing item.Â
Neither did he have it in him to adjust how you had left the cap on him, even if it didnât sit on his head perfectly.
âI still have time to get you,â you continued after a moment of silence.
â359 days left.â
âMore than enough.â
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The clock was close to hitting 11pm. The whole team was taking a short break for a fresh perspective. Most were on their phones or taking a quick nap, but Spencer and you were playing a round of cards.
âDid you know ketchup used to be medicine? Fun fact.â
Both Emilyâs and Derekâs watchful gaze panned from you to Spencer, anticipating his reaction to your daily shot at winning the bet.
âAround the 1830s, yeah. They marketed it as a cure for various ailments such as indigestion and diarrhea.âÂ
Emily instantly groaned at Spencerâs reply while Derek snickered. Once again, Spencer already knew the information you provided, just like the 13 previous times.
âSee? Not a single thing he doesnât know,â Derek chirped up, earning him a glare from the co-worker beside him.
You finally placed your next card down, instantly eying Spencer, wanting a read of his reaction to your play. There was a distant look in his eyes, a clear indication that he was taking this game just as seriously as you were.
Your eyes swept over the rest of your opponent. The un-neat edges in his usually tidy work attire and the way his hair stuck in different directions had your lips curling. They were details that only unveil during late work hours after a long day. But strangely enough, there was something endearing about the slight tiredness in his eyes and the way his cardigan hung disheveledly on him.Â
âI won.â
Your eyes snapped to the pile of cards on the table at Spencerâs declaration.
âWhat?! No way. You must have cheated.â
âNow, now, donât be a sore loser just because pretty boy over here won,â Derek teased you, despite also highly suspecting that Reid had cheated.
âAre we talking about the same pretty boy who is banned from many Vegas casinos because of his expert skill in counting cards?â JJ countered, placing her phone down.Â
Your co-workersâ discourse began fading out of your focus as Spencer took out a ticket from his bag and handed it to you with a cheeky grin. With hesitation, you took the paper begrudgingly. You knew you had to hold your end of the deal. You had lost, after all.
You glanced back at the winner of the card game, catching his toothy grin at your sulking manners. Against all maturity, you poked your tongue out in petulance, but such childish action had Spencer laughing quietly in his spot, eyes gleaming with fondness.
âSore loser.â
âCheater.â
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Hotch halted in his tracks upon spotting you and Reid in the break room.
Both of your heads were side by side, just a hair short from touching, fighting to have adequate sight of the newspaper that the two of you were sharing. Each of you also sported a pen in hand, scribbling hastily onto the delicate paper with vigorous competitiveness.
The unit chief entered to refill his coffee, though his eyes continued investigating you two. In the narrow gap between your heads, Hotch caught sight of Spencer rapidly filling out a crossword puzzle. Meanwhile, just as fast, you were solving a Sudoku piece that resided on the same page.
âDid you know, like fingerprints, people also have unique tongue prints?â you murmured, eyes still glued onto the puzzle in front of you. âFun fact.â
âYeah, humans have unique color, tongue shape, and textural features, therefore making it a great form of identification. However, we currently do not have the suitable technology to capture intricate surface details of tongue prints. Also, switching costs are high partially because the idea of having to stick one's tongue out in public for authentication can be seen as rather awkward, unhygienic, and undignifying.â
You pursed your lips at another unsuccessful day. But such expression vanished when you dropped your pen on the table and declared with unadulterated joy:
âDone!â
Your victory drew a defeated noise from Spencer.
âImagine though, having to stick your tongue out at airport immigration and place it onto a public scanner or something like that.â You cackled at Spencer's grimace and the way his body slightly shivered from such a mental image. Eventually though, your laugh reduced to a teasing smile.
Spencerâs gaze lowered to the little crinkle that appeared around your eyes as you smiled, before holding eye contact with you. Spencer knew there was no such thing as âeyes twinkling,â but you had him doubting that scientifically established truth for a second. It was lighting and he knew that, but he had to admit that he could finally somewhat understand why poets and writers were so obsessed with dedicating lines towards such a tiny detail.Â
Because even though there was no reason for him to, his own lips began to curl, mirroring the smile on your face.
From behind you both, Aaron Hotchner took a sip of his coffee before departing the room. Though on his way out, his eyes glinted a knowing look, while his lips lifted just the slightest bit before schooling back to a neutral expression again.Â
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âDid you know that back then, when raising a toast, people would literally drop a piece of toast into their wine?â you blurted out the second you slid yourself into the empty seat opposite Spencer at his breakfast table. Never have you ever skipped free hotel breakfast and today was no exception.
âWell, hello to you too.â Spencer grinned at your straight-to-business behavior.Â
He carefully placed the coffee he made for you into your handâa casual daily routine. You took a good whiff of the comforting aroma before humming at the first taste. It was exactly how you liked it: a dash of milk along with two and a quarter teaspoon of sugar.
To date, Spencer has never asked how you liked your coffee.Â
He simply has always gotten it right.
It was not hard to guess that he had learnt your preferences from watching you make your coffee in the past. But you could not help but wonder if he took mental notes on others the same way he did with you. However, like every other time, you dismissed it as an occupational habit. Every member has been trained to be observant and notice little details. Spencer probably knew everybodyâs coffee preferences.
âIt actually originated from Ancient Rome, and back then, toast was an act to honor the gods and people would pour wine onto the floor. However, the custom evolved in many ways over time, depending on geographic regions. Around the 1600s, it became a common custom in England and this is where people would put a piece of spiced toast into their wine. They did it to improve the flavor of their beverage and also to âtoastâ to good health.â
Spencer caught your hum of satisfaction at the coffee and instantly felt pleased.
Science has long documented humans as naturally validation-seeking creatures. Your existence often humbled him from thinking he was not a recurring participant in that particular human instinct.
His eyes fell from you to your coffeeâa particular mix that has ingrained itself into his memory since your first meeting. Funny that some time since then, he could no longer look at the beverage without ever thinking of you.
Neither could Spencer for the life of him recite the coffee order of anybody else at the BAU.
â36 days downâŠâ you murmured, already picturing yourself rummaging the internet for more fun facts tonight.
âMaybe tomorrow.â The words came out softly, almost encouragingly. You hummed before matching his tone.
âMaybe.â
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âFlies rub their hands as a sanitizing act, rather clean for an insect commonly associated with dirty places, no?â you murmured before peering up from your book whilst curled up in your seat on the BAUâs jet.
âYes, itâs a self-grooming act. They do this primarily for two reasons. First and foremost, itâs because their legs are their flavour receptors, so they rub their front legs to ensure they can taste when eating. The other motivation is to remove dust and debris, therefore, ensuring survival.â
Your bottom lip jutted out slightly at another unsuccessful attempt.
âIâll get you tomorrowâŠâ you murmured with a teasing smile before re-immersing yourself in the fantasy world of your current novel.
Reading has become your escapism and method of self-grounding prior to any case. You tried to plunge into fictional worlds while flying to prepare yourself for the terrible realities that accompanied upcoming cases. Though at one point, Spencer started joining in. But instead of having his own book, he would lean over and scan your current page with unrealistic speed while you leisurely let each letter sink in. It became a routine that occupied your journey from Quantico, whereas on the way back, Spencer and you maintained your tradition of engaging in chess matches.Â
Spencer spotted your finger flipping the page once more and his eyes instantly swept over the printed words hastily.
Twenty thousand words per minute. That was Spencerâs known reading speed, which meant in merely two seconds or three, he was already done with the two pages in front of you both. As always, you were still reading at your own pace, unhurried. He knew he could adopt a slower speed to enjoy your chosen fictional literature. But lately, he found himself in a hurry, rushing himself to finish pages in a way that made him think maybe he was now above his previously established reading speed.Â
Why?
His gaze flicked over to you, mulling over the familiar details that made you, you. He studied the way your fingers trace the fore-edge of the book mindlessly, lingering on the way you tease your lips with your teeth as you registered the adventure that the story was taking you on. Spencer caught the slight shift in the space between your eyebrows and how they slightly twitch according to plot progression, displaying your commitment to your reading content.
Spencer would not classify himself as a people watcher, despite his necessary observant and analytical traits as a profiler. Yet, somehow, watching you had become one of his favorite quiet activities. In your little habits were his comfort. In moments when cases were overwhelming, his eyes have made a tendency to land on you. The spike in his heartbeat would normalize, whilst rapid thoughts would regulate. It was only in moments when Spencer would get caught by you that he would tear his gaze away sheepishly, before attempting to pretend that he was looking elsewhere instead.
The sound of paper rustling pulled Spencer out of his mind, and he instantly plunged himself into the same self-established cycle again.
And despite his fondness for literature, for once, it did not hold a candle in his eyes.
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âCows have best friends, how great is that?â
Spencer stopped eating his ice cream the second he spotted someone passing the two of you in a cow onesie, giving away why you decided on that particular fun fact. His eyes fell back on you, glimmering with amusement.Â
âYes, cows do have a âbest friendâ who they tend to share spaces and rest side by side with. Research shows that when separated, these cows would show signs of stress and anxiety with higher heart rates.â
You hummed at that. By now, you were used to his immediate expansion on your facts, no longer surprised or disappointed every time he added onto your words.Â
In fact, you fondly looked forward to hearing what he had to say about whatever fact you would sprout. There was a deep sense of appreciation that you have grown for this challenge. You felt like, intellectually, your general knowledge had expanded immensely, both from researching fun facts to tell Spencer and also from the informative responses that you would receive from him.
âYou know, cows also can develop what some may refer to as âaccents.â Research observed variations in their moos based on different regions and herds.â Spencer leaned closer to you before adding cheekily, âFun fact.â
âNuh uh, donât go stealing my line. Youâre not allowed to put me out of business.â
This tore a laugh out of Spencer, and you immediately bit back a smile at such a sound.Â
If humans have the ability to bottle noises for keepsake, you know now what sound you would try to capture.
Surprisingly, this was only the second time that Spencer and you had spent time together one-on-one out of work.Â
With the working hours at the BAU that forced you and all your co-workers to be in close proximity for an extensive amount of time, you tend to allocate your scarce free time to those who were outside of your work circle. But something about spending time with Spencer today had struck you with an epiphany:
You really, really wanted to see Spencer outside of work more often.
Both your phones started ringing at the same time.
âPenelope, is everything okay?â you answered quietly.
âEmily?â Spencer whispered at the same time into his phone.
After a few seconds, you both ended your respective phone calls before slowly turning to face each other again. You scanned yours and Spencerâs outfit before sighing.
âThereâs not enough time to go home and change.â The devastation in your voice was imminent.
âI know.â
A few minutes later, both of you entered the office, and almost instantly, the noise level declined significantly as the whole team paused their actions. You winced, knowing immediately that you two were about to be the butt of many incoming jokes.
âWhoa, what time period did you guys travel back from?â Emily teased.
âWe were at a convention, okay?â You huffed, picking up your go-bag from under your desk for a change of clothes.
âAnd you two are dressed up asâŠ?â Rossi crossed his arms, undoubtedly amused.
The team scanned over both of your outfits. Spencer was wearing a brown fedora hat, an oxblood colored corduroy jacket, and grey pants. Despite the only semi-chilly weather, he also sported a colorful striped knitted scarf around his neck. As for you, you were in an all pink attire, but what stood out was your long pink coat, high pink boots, and long white scarf.
âThe fourth doctor and Romana II, from Doctor Who,â Spencer answered, grabbing his go bag.
Derekâs eyes comedically bulged out at that, and he immediately spun his chair towards you. âBlink twice if Reid is blackmailing you with something to make you go to this convention with him.â You laughed at his remark.
âListen, remember the card game I lost two months ago? Thatâs why I had to go, but when I actually started the show, I really enjoyed it.â You raised your hands in surrender.
âOh, we lost another one. She got Reid-ified,â Derek exclaimed dramatically before placing a hand on his chest in jest heartbreak, grinning at your eye roll.
By now, Spencer had returned to your side with his go-bag. Though just as you two turned around to head off and change, an abrupt flash halted you both in your steps. Blinking away the after-effect of the blinding light, you saw Penelope with her phone facing you two and a cheeky grin on her face.
âWhoa, whoa, whoa. Delete that,â you immediately instructed, hands on your hips while your brows furrowed in fussiness. You then sucked in a deep breath and used your hand to comb through your hair before a smile broke your feigned annoyed expression. âI was not ready.â
Then, with dramatic flair, you posed properly for the camera, grabbing Spencerâs scarf exaggeratedly with both hands while tugging him lightly.Â
Spencer was unsure if his knees had buckled due to a slight loss of balance or from your proximity. He glanced at the camera, face slightly flushed, before witnessing another flash go off, evidencing his blush and putting it on record.
Your hands were gone from his scarf like a breeze.Â
âAlright, Iâm gonna go change now.â By the time Spencer registered your words, you were already gone. All that was left at the spot you previously occupied was his attention. Spencer's eyes eventually moved when he heard a quiet giggle from Penelope, who was indescribably entertained by the dazed look on his face.
The tech expert slowly angled her phone towards Spencer to show what she had captured, and she carefully observed Spencerâs contemplative gaze. His eyes landed on you first, and they softened at the sight of your beaming face. They then traced the slope of your smile and the crinkle of your eyes before reluctantly trailing down to your hands and the way they bossily clung onto his scarf.Â
The sentiment of pictures has always been just a concept to Spencer Reid. He does understand the logic behind peopleâs attachment to colored captures of moments and why people have âimportantâ photos in their wallets or have framed physical copies. But personally, he rarely ever practiced it. Yet, in this precise moment, he suddenly wanted to begin.
Without even looking at himself in the photo, Spencer murmured to Penelope:
âCan you send that to me, please? Thank you.â
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âWhere is she?â Derekâs gaze darted up to his friend. One glance at Spencer and the man already knew who he was referring to.
âGarcia said she called in sick this morning. Why?â
âNothing.â
Derek scanned over Spencer from head to toe properly this time. Realisation flashed through his eyes before the man smirked as he looked back down at his work.Â
Ah, the perks of being a profiler.
âSure, pretty boy.â
âWhat was that looââÂ
The sound of Spencerâs phone ringing interrupted his question. He took the device out of his pocket, and the phone almost flew out of his hand when he saw your name flashing on the screen. He immediately picked up and placed the device beside his ear, breathing out your name in greeting.
Instead of your usual cheery tone, Spencer was met with a muffled voice and snifflings.
Immediately, his body stiffened.
âAre you okay?â He was by his desk within seconds. His fingers grazed over his jacket, as if prepared to scoop the clothing up and dash out of the office if your answer indicated any distress.Â
âMy nose is blocked. Both sides. Itâs horrendous,â then came a dramatic sigh, âIâm becoming a mouth breather, Spence.â
Your melodrama tore a laugh from Spencerâs throat.
Derekâs lips curled discreetly at the noise.
âAnyway, donât think you can escape your daily fun fact just because Iâm not physically in the office.â Spencer was glad you were not physically with him, because if you were, you would have seen the idiotic grin stretching his face. But how could he not smile at your stubborn resilience, and the cute sound of your nasally voice that was slightly more high-pitched than normal.Â
âYouâre sick, and you took a day off work, but not off the fun fact thing?â
âIn sickness and in health, as they say.â
Spencer accidentally snorted at your words and immediately cleared his throat in an attempt to cover it.
Derekâs brows scrunched at that.
âApparently, while wired to specific scientific machines and whatnot, two lucid dreamers can have two-way communication in real time. How cool is that?â Spencer hummed fondly at your words before sitting down, his plan to flee from office hours long gone.
âThatâs quite a recent fun fact. The study was recently concluded just about two years ago,â his voice came out soft as he focused on any sound that the technological device beside his ear could carry over from your end.Â
He caught your hum, though the sound resembled the same one you always did while sitting next to him on the jet as the team flew back to Quantico. The noise that often preceded the soft landing of your head on his shoulder and the way heâd sit straighter up to accommodate you entirely despite his germaphobia-led touch aversion.
âYou should sleep and rest,â he whispered, despite wanting to hear your voice for longer. But selflessness came easy when you were in consideration.
Spencer carefully began listing all the things you ought to do later to get better. But halfway through, he noticed the lack of noise from the other end, except for your rhythmic breathing, signaling your sound asleep state. Spencer sighed before removing the phone from his ear. He stared at the device in long contemplation before clicking the end call button.
Finally placing down the device that signified his only contact with you today, Spencer flipped open todayâs case dossier. However, he found himself re-reading the first sentence over and over again. His eyes kept scanning over the same words, and he felt the way they slid past his comprehension the same way small external details occasionally would escape his notice whenever he spent time with you.Â
Spencerâs mind kept trailing back to the phone call and to you.
Itâs familiarityâhe tried to tell himself. Humans were, afterall, creatures of habit, and considering you have been swirled into his daily routine like a necessity, it made sense that the lack of your presence had set him off balance.Â
Eventually, Spencer got up and went to the break room for coffee. But the second he opened the cupboard and his eyes landed on your mug, he felt his mouth run dry.Â
For the past one and a half years, he has always made two cups of coffee instead of one at the start of each day.
His eyes darted to his mug right next to yours. The idea of separating them sent some sort of ache in his heart, even if logically they were just ceramic vessels.
Perhaps he had mislabeled what missing someone meant all along, because your absence was bringing a hollowness that nobody had managed to carve out of him before. It was the kind of emptiness that made him feel incomplete, as if a piece of himself was not with him. Yet, as opposed to the expected numbness that often accompanied such a feeling, Spencer felt every second of your absence with a constant stinging ache that felt too akin to withdrawal symptoms.Â
Eventually, Spencer shut the cupboard and returned to his desk, coffee-less.
That evening after work, Spencer made a detour instead of going straight home, missing the way his friends huddled together, exchanging hushed whispers about his departure.
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Twenty two hours, forty eight minutes, and thirty one seconds.
Spencer witnessed as time quietly slipped through the cracks of his remaining strength.Â
The whole bullpen lacked the life his work family usually colored in. The janitor had long shut off the main lights, so the only thing illuminating the space near Spencer was his desk lamp. Everybody else had gone home except for Hotch, but the unit chief was in his office, leaving Spencer as the last man standing in the bullpen.
After a few more ticks, Spencer finally tore his gaze from the timing instrument and glided his vision back down to the pen in his hand, forcing it to ink his unfinished report, but words refused to string together.Â
Spencerâs free hand began tapping his desk rhythmically in a pathetic attempt to comfort himself.
Twenty two hours, fifty one minutes, and twenty one seconds.
Spencer wanted to say that it didnât matter. Why should it? But he knew damn well that the answer was because the team mattered to him.Â
However, perspective was truly a funny thing. Someone could be your number one priority, and you barely just made it in their list.
Spencer averted his gaze from the unfinished report to the brand new photo frame on his desk, where a captured version of the recent memory of you two as Doctor Who characters resided.
It did not take a genius to see that you two were closer to one another than with others on the team. However, the fun fact challenge had truly unlocked another level of bond. It was the kind of connection that meant he had started placing you above the others, a position that implied he also expected more from you, cause perhaps he thought you had also valued him just as much as he treasured you in his mind.Â
So as much as the whole team was the source of his dismay, there was a spotlight reserved for your absence, one that was beyond glaring and punched his guts in ways that others could not.
His eyes traced your face in the photograph again, like they had done every morning since he had gotten the picture framed.Â
Oftentimes, you could never be absolutely sure where you stand in someoneâs life.
Twenty two hours, fifty nine minutes, and ten seconds.
A resigned breath escaped the narrow gap between his lips.
With more effort than it usually took, Spencer got on his feet, hoping that another cup of coffee would be the cure for his inefficiency. He slowly placed more weight on one side of his body to turn around. At the same time, Spencer began rubbing his face in hopes that exhaustion and melancholy would push themselves aside for a brief moment so that he could finish this impending task.Â
When Spencer finally reopened his eyes to navigate the darkness, he froze at the sight that was once behind him.
Eight steps away was you, looking like a deer caught in headlights.Â
Then came your escaped nervous laughter, like you were scared of screwing up, but that was only because you were unaware that you could almost never do wrong in Spencerâs eyes. His heartâwhich Spencerâs brain has been having a harder time controlling latelyâprovided you with a much larger margin for error than anybody else.
Your gentle tone filled the fragile silence that was intertwined with suspense.
âFun fact, birthday cakes are traditionally round as an Ancient Greek tradition to resemble the moon for the goddess Artemis.â Your eyes crinkled as your lips curled into that familiar smile that had previously held Spencer powerless on numerous occasions. âHappy Birthday, Spence.â
There you were, cake in hand after a long day of work on a gruesome case.
There you were, with a homemade cake after a long day of him thinking everybody had forgotten his birthday, or more importantly, that you had forgotten.
But maybe his probability was not entirely against him.Â
âI know Iâm quite late, but trust me, thereâs an explanation. When I got to the office this morning, I realized that I had forgotten your cake at home. I was planning to grab it after work, but the case kept us all back so late, and then traffic was super bad because of a concert today. But hey, I got the cake now, and I really hope you like it.â
You peered down at your own baking product and the slightly wonky penmanship before turning your eyes back onto Spencer.
âAlso, since itâs your birthday, Iâll give you a bonus fun fact. There are roughly 30,000 people who have their birthdays on October 12th in the States, butâŠâÂ
Your voice fell quiet as your eyes diverted back to the cake again.Â
âYouâre my favorite October 12th.â
And right at that second, all of Spencerâs previous attempts at rationalising his feelings via scientific explanations collapsed. For once, science could no longer shield him, because as much as it was a field built on facts of concrete evidence, there was also an undeniable truth: he liked you.
It might not be rational, but it was still a fact, and that alone terrified Spencer.Â
And while he was your favorite October 12th, you were his favorite every day.
Spencer glanced down at the handmade cake and the singular purple candle pierced in the center. The tiny flame provided just enough light for the space between you both. His eyes then flicked back onto you, and they softened.
God, you were so clueless about the effect your actions have on him and his whole world.
One breath extinguished the fire, and grey smoke fluttered into the air.
Then, for the first time since he saw you five minutes ago, Spencer managed to form the only words he felt were worthy enough of your time.
âThank you.â
Even if the significance behind those words didnât reach you today, it was okay. But they carry the weight of his whole heart and every unspoken reason behind his gratefulness.Â
Thank you for not forgetting about him today. Thank you for always being so kind and paying attention to the details about him. Thank you for being such an important part of his life. Thank you for choosing the exact career path that you did to lead you to him. Thank you for existing.Â
And someday, maybe Spencer Reid will gather enough courage to tell you all of this.
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You halted in your step, and almost immediately Spencer followed suit. His eyesight followed yours, and he instantly knew what you were gonna ask from him.
âCome on, can you play for me? Please?â you urged, and it didnât take more than your pleading face to make him approach the instrument that lay abandoned in the corner of the hotel where the whole team was staying.
Saying ânoâ became a significantly harder task for Spencer ever since he realised what kind of position his feelings were in when it came to you. It especially felt like an impossible task when your words came in that pleading tone and the smile that had him wishing stopping time was one of his abilities.
You followed Spencer and leaned against the instrument eagerly. You observed as he lightly cracked his knuckles, eying the mixture of ivory and ink-dark keys with a calculative gaze before placing his fingers delicately on them while his foot pressed gently on one of the pedals at the base.
For a moment, you wondered what Spencer would play. Maybe one of the classical pieces he liked a lot. Perhaps Bach? Orâ Â
A familiar tune overtook the pleasant quietness in the empty hotel lobby, and recognition struck you with every flawless execution of each note.
First off, you knew he was a liar, saying he only dabbled in piano. But what caught you off-guard was hearing the piano version of your favorite song.Â
It was things like this that made you conclude that Spencer Reid was one of the sweetest individuals you have ever had the privilege to know. From making you coffee daily to hunting down first editions of your favorite books (the most recent one in which he handed over along with soup the day you got sick and were off work). Now, he was learning your favorite song on the piano.Â
Lucky felt like an inadequate word to describe your position in life when Spencer was in the equation.
Only when he finished the very modern composition did you speak up.
âI thought you only listened to classical?â
âIâŠdid,â was all that came out of Spencerâs mouth, but it was enough for you to catch his implication that he had learnt this song specifically on the piano for you.
Spencer sniffled, diverting his gaze from you shyly as he inspected the keys in front of him again.
Ever since his birthday, Spencer could constantly feel the urge to confess right on the tip of his tongue while his lips trembled in self-control to keep them to himself for now. According to the internet and its various articles, he should try to âwooâ you first, and hence these actions instead of confessing right away. He wondered if you got his message. He wondered if you could tell this was his version of flirting. However, Spencer also knew that he had accidentally portrayed himself as an extremely sweet friend from your perspective, so thoughtful actions with the aim of impressing you romantically were most likely ruled as platonic gestures.Â
You began toying with the ring on your middle finger, the flattery from his sweet action manifested itself through the heat beneath your cheeks. For the first time in your almost three years of friendship with Spencer, you were struck by a minor nerve-wracking sensation. There was also a fleeting stutter in your chest that you decisively ignored.
You moved on with a quiet murmur.
âYou know, humans owe squirrels a lot. They have planted at least thousands of trees.â You gave him a soft smile when his eyes met yours again. âItâs accidental, but no less a noble act contributing to the environment.â
âYeah, they would bury nuts for later usage, but forget their locations. Many forgotten nuts can grow into trees, therefore, contributing to forest regeneration.âÂ
âAnddd another fun fact failure.â You groaned, though your expression melted into a smile when you heard Spencer chuckle at that.Â
âWe should head up. Itâs getting late.â
You nodded in agreement and began walking, but looked back briefly at Spencer. âBut itâs not too late for an episode of Doctor Who, right?â
An outstretched grin spread across Spencerâs face at your words.
âNever.â
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âNo way.â You were speechless as you made way out of Spencerâs car, staring at the building in front of you in disbelief. âDonât tell meâŠâ
âYeah, itâs for your favorite film,â Spencer confirmed your suspicion.
âSo, it didnât matter that I had lost, huh?â
Shortly after your Doctor Who convention together, Spencer had invited you to this event that was two and a half months after. Though he insisted on keeping the details a secret, relaying only the dress codeâsmart casual, but whatever you were most comfortable with.
The secretive factor of the whole ordeal had you guessing in suspense for the entire two months, but now that you were here, you fully understood why.
This was the event that you both would have gone to instead of the Doctor Who convention if you had won that game of cards.
An orchestra movie concert of your favourite movie.
Spencer sucked in a deep breath, fingers toying with the loose threads of his cardigan. There he went again, attempting to present to you that he was an optionâthe best one, at thatâand giving signals that he was pursuing you. He has read at least five hundred online articles on the art of flirting in the past week alone. If Derek ever found his online searching history, Reid would never live it down.
âGod, this is the best thing ever.â Seeing how pleased you were with his action made Spencer want to physically preen with pride.
Once you two had settled down inside, you took a couple of photos and observed your surroundings. You looked around at your neighboring audiences before averting your gaze to the empty chairs that were soon to be filled by instrumental experts. Your body was flooded with excitement at the prospect of finally being at this event.Â
You decided to chime in with your daily fun fact just minutes before the concert was due to start.
âDid you know that thereâs a planet that is â made of diamonds?â you whispered.
â55 Cancri e, right?â he matched your volume, shifting in the chair beside you to make himself comfortable.
âYeah, that one,â you confirmed, turning your head back to him. âGo on, I know you have details on it.â You encouraged, shifting yourself into a comfortable position as well.
â55 Cancri e is a super-Earth exoplanet, approximately twice the size of Earth, though roughly eight times heavier in terms of mass. First sighted and discovered in 2004, scientists have found that it is a very hot and rocky planet with a molten lava ocean surface due to its incredibly close orbit to its starâŠâ
You were leaning into your palm while listening to him, clinging onto every word as they absorbed into your brain. The space you left in between you both out of consideration for Spencer gradually lessened as he leaned in closer the more he talked. His tone, too, grew more quiet as he went on, as if the information he was telling you did not exist in some cyclopaedia, but a secret passed in full trust.Â
The corners of your lips curled at the twinkle in Spencerâs eyes as he detailed out knowledge that previously sat in the corner of his brain, collecting dust.
Spencerâs intellectual rambling will always be one of your favorite things about him. You loved hearing him talk and the way he enunciated each syllable so clearly, as well as his wordings and his tonal patterns. You should have gotten used to it by now, but it marvelled you every single time that you had the chance to listen to him talk about things you would rely on an internet search to know. Just like usual, today was no different.
Spencer Reid was remarkable. It was almost impossible to take your eyes off him when he talked. He was a bundle of many things that made him an individual worth a lifetime of getting to know.
You wondered if you were looking at him a little bit too fondly right now. But how could you not when he was whispering sweet facts to you as if he only wanted you to know of it? It felt almost as if this fun fact challenge had turned into a sacred tradition between you two.Â
âEven though it is widely said that the planet is â of diamond, this is actually still only a theory and yet to be proven. So, to dub it the Diamond Planet when theyâre not even sure if there are diamonds on the planet itself is likeâŠsuspecting you are a quarter or half French and then introducing yourself as French to people anyway.â
Your laughter burst out unfiltered, and you instantly grounded yourself by clearing your throat and pulling yourself away from Spencer slightly, putting yourself on timeout.
That was kind of embarrassing.Â
The joke was slightly funny, but nowhere close to warranting that kind of laughter.
It sort of reminded you of the videos you have seen on the internet about the kind of laugh that people would let out in reaction to their crushâs jokâ
Oh.
You subtly slid deeper into your chair as thoughts shot in your mind at a hundred miles per second. Your fingers immediately curled into your palms to dig at it. You could not look back at Spencer in fear that he would notice that something was wrong.Â
Oh God.Â
But were you really surprised though?Â
A part of you had seen it coming, because as much as you adore all your co-workers, you knew in the bottom of your heart that Spencer was the only one you were willing to lessen your sleeping hours to prolong hanging out and conversing with. Also, to be immune to such sweet actions, you would have to be some statue made of stone. For years now, Spencer had intently taken time to know you and go out of his way just to make you happy. If anything, you were grateful that your heart had picked someone so kind and worthy to give itself away to.
You glanced at Spencer from the corner of your eyes, and just the sight of him alone had your heart hiccupping in a way that you had become familiar with for the past month. It was the kind of stutter that you had outright been trying to ignore and written off as nothing. But unlike all the previous times, you knew you could no longer deny that man next to you was the reason for such palpitations.
And maybe it was also time to face it: you like Spencer Reid, your genius of a friend and very much also a profiler.
Your eyes snapped away from him the moment you realized the significance of playing it cool. You could not have him picking up the signs and figuring out that you have feelings for him. But then again, you have seen how clueless he was around women who were hitting on him and failing to pick up their signals. So, maybe he would not notice your current body language either.
Before you could think more on the matter, the lights dimmed and instruments began stringing together in a well-rehearsed manner. It was only then that you began breathing again, relieved that you had two hours to collect your thoughts and come to terms with the newly attained knowledge about yourself.
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âAlright, whatâs the fun fact of today?â you heard Spencerâs voice before peering up and seeing him behind your chair, hands on the back of the furniture, looking down at you with a shy smile. The sight of his adorable expression made your cheeks heat up, and you had to avert your gaze to prevent him from spotting signs of your flustered state.
The other members just boarded the jet as well, settling into their own spots after a tiring case. You were much less the same, sporting the now more noticeable eye bags that matched Spencerâs. Yet, that does not deter his gaze from the warmth they hold.
You gestured to Spencerâs usual seat right next to you. Once he had settled down, you made your next move on his chessboard, resuming your current ongoing match with him. You could see the instant way the cogs in his brain started spinning. At that, you provided your fun fact of the day, hoping it would serve as a distraction.
âYou know, I read that there are more possible variations of chess games than the number of atoms in the universe.â
âYeah, itâs known as the Shannon numberâthe number of possible chess games, I mean, which is 10 to the power of 120. Meanwhile, the estimated number of atoms in the observable universe is 10 to the power of 80, to 10 to the power of 82.â
He made his move, catching your discreet yawn in the corner of his eyes.
âFascinating, isnât it?â The weight behind your eyes turned them half-lidded. They landed on the chessboard, trying to formulate the next best move, but your brain refused to cooperate as a fog of sleepiness overclouded your judgments.
âYou donât have to play now, you know. We can just play next time.â
âNo, no. Give me a second, Iâll make my move.â
âYouâre tired.â
You slowly turned your head towards Spencer, and there it was again. You caught the concern leaking from his gaze, and it instantly reminded you just how caring Spencer was to those in his life and especially you. Your mouth formed a tired yet grateful smile at his expressed worry.
You felt sorry for those who have never had the opportunity to be the subject of his affections.
For a split second, you pondered the kind of doting that Spencer would do if he were pursuing someone romantically. You have never seen him express interest in any woman during your time at the BAU, despite the advances he has gotten from various good-looking women. But if he was already this sweet platonically, you were fairly certain your heart would give out at what he had in mind as romance.
Your shoulders finally slumped before a truthful sigh escaped from you. âYeah.â
Unlike usual, where you would fall asleep and land on his shoulder while you were knocked out, he outright shifted to sit up straighter for you, offering his shoulder.
Spencer never admitted it out loud, but he had foolishly started wanting the friction of your skin against his or the fabric of his belongings. It was an impossible he thought would never occur, but here he was, anticipating the next rare moment of physical touch beside the one where his shoulder would become your pillow.Â
Of course, he had noticed itâyour lack of touch when it came to him. He was devastatingly aware of your mindfulness of his germaphobia, and Spencer was grateful, he really was. However, your reservation to accommodate his tendencies had begun feeling like deprivation. In fact, Spencer could count on one hand the amount of times you had ever touched him deliberately, with the last one being one hundred and sixty three days ago.
But it was that particular initiative factor that Spencer deeply yearned for. He craved and awaited for a touch made with purpose.Â
He wanted you to mean it.
You stilled at such a small action, gaze stopping on his shoulder. You did not want to over-interpret such a simple movement, but knowing Spencer, there were implications and significance in that little offering.Â
You knew it had become a recurring thing. As embarrassed as you were, you could not help the fact that you were the type to move around a lot in your sleep. You had tried using an airplane pillow, leaning against the wall, and so many other methods. However, most of the time, you would still wake up on Spencerâs shoulder before instantly jolting up and freeing him from the physical touch.
But the certainty on Spencerâs face left your rejection stuck in your throat.
Hesitantly, you began shifting closer, giving Spencer just enough time to retract the offer if he wanted to. But he stayed confidently still as your head started leaning down before finally landing on his shoulder.
One single small action had Spencer questioning how much longer he could go on like this. How much longer could he keep these feelings tightly locked and concealed? Because Spencer was utterly gone for you. Gone in the kind of way where one casual compliment from you about the cardigan he was wearing had him immediately putting the item into his clothing rotation a lot more frequently.
âIâm gonna get you some day, SpenceâŠâ Spencer watched as you drifted to sleep before closing his own eyes, all while he wished the flight back would last forever.
Unbeknownst to you both, the team exchanged knowing looks and discreet smiles at the sight they were witnessing. There had been nothing more obvious to them than this, but instead of intervening, they decided to let things play its course.Â
Because, despite the uncertain nature surrounding the occurrence of events in life, this was the one thing everybody was sure was inevitable.
ïč ïč ïč
The jet finally arrived back at Quantico around 11pm. Spencer had finished his report a few minutes before you did, but lingered behind as usual to wait for you. About two weeks ago, he had established a new routine between you both.Â
âReady?â Spencer carefully peeled your bag from your hand, checking his watch to see that it was already past midnight, marking a new day.
âYeahâŠâ you breathed out tiredly, eager to collapse in bed. âMore than ready.â
You like to think you have kept it cool well, in general. But Spencerâs new routine of walking you to your car after work had you a nail tip away from laying all your cards bare and revealing your feelings. Even on days when you finished your report first, he would walk you to your car before returning to the office. But the thing was:
Spencer Reid rarely ever drove to work, which meant he was going to the employee parking lot every day with you for no reason.Â
Well, for no reason but you.
The elevator began making its descent from the sixth floor with both of you inside. You were listening carefully as Spencer discussed an academic paper he had read last night. The doors soon jerked open, revealing the fairly empty parking lot. At the sight of your car, you subtly began slowing down your steps, biting back a smile when you noticed him mirroring your change of pace.Â
You observed as he animatedly gushed about the methodology of the research paper, paying particular attention to the tiny detail of his body language. The way his hands were passionately waving around, exaggerating certain points Spencer was trying to make. The flutter of his eyelashes as he blinked a bit faster than he usually wouldâa habit that often occurs when he speaks quickly, as you have learned. The smooth movements of his lips as his mouth tried to rush out words to match the pace of his incredibly brilliant brain.
Now that you were looking at his lips, you have to admit that it was kind of hard to look away.
Suddenly, an idea brewed in your mind, and it felt like the holy grail had finally landed in your lap. Who would have known that a random Thursday would be the day you ought to finally win this challenge and put Spencer in checkmate.
âSpence?â Your lips curled mischievously, observing the way Spencer halted in his steps at your tone.Â
God, despite being subjected to harsh and unflattering parking lot lights, Spencer still had the audacity to look good in a way that tugged at your heartstrings. The sight had you questioning if he was capable of ever looking bad. His warm eyes colored with interest as he eagerly awaited your next words. You took a couple more steps forward, wanting to hide the plotting expression on your face.Â
âFun factâŠâ You paused before peering back at him. At those two words, you instantly caught the anticipation rolling off him. There was also a subtle confidence from him that signalled he was sure he already knew whatever you were planning to tell him. But you knew that this time, things would be different.Â
With a competitive glint in your eyes, you finally divulged todayâs fun fact, your voice calm and stable.
âI like you.â
Just as you predicted, Spencer froze while his mouth fell agape. No words fell out of those talkative lips, a stark contrast to how fast he was speaking a couple of seconds ago. You practically beamed in victory at such a reaction. You wanted to celebrate, you really did. But you decided not to gloat about your win yet. Instead, you prioritised the better option: teasing your friend.
âI recalled you mentioning once that kissing spreads fewer germs than shaking hands?â You winked playfully, expecting nothing from it. It was simply a joke to make Spencer flustered for your entertainment, and there was zero expectation that he would somehow miraculously confess that he had been secretly liking you too and would actually kiss you at your workplaceâs parking lot at 1am.
Because there was no way Doctor Spencer Reid liked you, right?
You observed as his lips slowly curled up in amusement as your words sunk in, and that partially made your shoulders relaxed. Well, at least your joke landed, and your friendship would make it out intact despite your confession.
But then, out of nowhere, that closed-mouth smile stretched into a full-on grin before a chuckle of disbelief escaped from Spencer.Â
Now, you were on alert. Instantly, you tried to read his reactionâwas he in disbelief that he was finally stumped by a fact he had not yet known of? Was he amused by your clever trick of using your own feelings as a fun fact? But the elation on his face and the awestruck look in his eyes hardly aligned with someone who had just lost a long-term challenge.
Your lips parted as you continued assessing the man, but you caught the way his eyes flickered down at that small movement before he sucked in a deep breath.
Oh�
Suspicion crept in, but confirmation came quicker.
In the blink of an eye, Spencer had completely eliminated the two steps between you both, sealing you two in a proximity that was closer than you had ever been with him. His palms found your face, and they cupped your cheeks in a careful yet certain way.
Spencerâs eyes darted all over your face, searching for all the clues that you were okay with what he had next in mind. He could see that your pupils were slightly dilated, as well as feel the way you were leaning into his touch and the heat that was transferring from your cheeks to his hands. Though it was only when you did not pull away and instead, had your tongue dart out to wet your lips, did Spencer kill the remaining space between your faces.
His lips slanted against yours in a desperate manner that outmatched his need for oxygen, kissing you like it was long overdue. He swallowed the gasp escaping your throat and the surprised noise that followed. There was an urgency he could not hide as his straining self-control snapped from your green light.Â
You began kissing him back just a second or two after, and almost instantly, you heard a sigh of relief. Your lips curled, but any trace of smugness vanished when his thumb began rubbing your cheek fondly. Suddenly, you were aware of just how close you two were. Every point of contact was sending a searing heat through your body, because despite his fears of germs, Spencer was touching your skin like it was a need, rather than an obligation for moments like these.Â
You pressed your lips harder against his.
Good lord, Spencer could do this forever.Â
He might have been able to count the number of times you have touched him on one hand, but even with the whole team, there were not enough fingers to account for the number of times he had glanced at your lips this week alone.
Your own hands touched the sides of his waist, and you instantly caught the longing noise that escaped from Spencerâs throat, echoing onto your lips. At such an encouraging sound, you curled your hands to the back of his body and snaked them up his back. Your lips smirked against his at the way he arched into your touch.Â
One hundred and sixty three daysâSpencer reminded himself again, humming in utter satisfaction at the way those numbers spun down to zero. Finally, you were touching him on purpose and with purpose. He practically melted at the way your hands roamed so confidently without any trace of guilt that he was uncomfortable, because he was far from that.
In fact, he eagerly wanted to keep the number of days since the last time you touched him at zero permanently.Â
You picked that precise moment to pull away, documenting the way his eyes fluttered open and dawned into existence the unadulterated glimmer of yearning in them.Â
You have always thought he was gorgeous, but how he looked right then rendered the word inadequate. It was a vision exceeding all your daydreams, and to be the reason behind the look made you feel like you were an award winning fashion designer who had just invented a magnificent masterpiece. But unlike most, you had no intention of sharing this artwork with the world or with anybody else.
Spencer felt his heart squeeze at the sight of you again. Was it possible to miss someone so badly from not having a visual on them for approximately a minute? Maybe he was more screwed than he thought.
Breathlessly, he finally whispered the confession that he had long to say for a month.
âDespite all the facts I already know and have learnt during my whole entire life, youâre my favorite thing to study and know more about, and have been since you stepped into my life. Nothing I learnt after felt like it could outrank anything I learnt about you.â It was true. Every speck of information about you gets the forefront of his memoryâs line-up, taking priority over every other knowledge. Spencer licked his own lips for remnants of you before continuing, âYouâre my favorite fun fact, you know that?â
Your heart tugged at his words. You had no idea how you managed to compete with the vast amount of interesting information that existed in the world, but under Spencerâs stare, you truly could see he meant every word.
âButâŠâ The smile on your face instantly dropped at that single word from Spencer. Good rarely ever followed that three-letter conjunction.
âBut?â
âI do have to admit that, uhmâŠâ The familiar sheepish glint in his eyes had one of your eyebrows shooting up. âI kinda already know that fun fact already, that you liked me.â Your hands on him stilled their movement before falling onto your sides in disbelief.
âOh, come on. You canât be serious.â He resisted the urge to whine at the lack of physical touch from you. âBut you looked shocked.â
âI was shocked you actually said it. I didn't think youâd do it todayâŠor tomorrowâŠor maybe everââ You slapped his arm, but he gladly welcomed that contact. Anything was better than nothing.
âI thought youâre like highly oblivious to romantic signals? Iâve seen you being completely clueless and not picking up on the fact that women were flirting with you.â
âI think I wasnât clueless when it came to you because my eyes were always on you.â Those words came out shamelessly. In fact, Spencer almost sounded proud of himself. You tried not to let his words make you flustered.
âWhen did you figure it out?â
âThat you like me? At the orchestra.â
âHow? I barely figured it out myself that I liked you then.â
âYeah, I could tell.â Your huff drew a chuckle from him.
You finally peeled yourself completely away from Spencer, grabbing your bag from his hand before making your way to your car. As you unlocked the vehicle and swung the driverâs door open, you could hear his footsteps following. You crouched to lean into your car and place your bag onto the passenger seat. You could feel Spencerâs presence stopping just behind you, standing much closer than he had ever before tonight.
As you bent back up and leaned against your car, you didn't miss the way Spencerâs fingers twitched, giving away his urges for physical contact. You crossed your arms before tilting your head back teasingly.
âIâm still gonna get you someday.â
Spencerâs gaze melted to an even softer look than before at your declaration. There was a freeing component in his eyes, showcasing the joy from being able to openly look at you in the way he had really wanted to for a while. His voice lowered to a sweet, promising whisper.
âIâm counting on that.â
With that, Spencer leaned in again, wanting a second run of things before the two of you had to part ways for the night.
You grinned into the kiss and quickly wrapped your arms around him again. Quietly, your mind logged in todayâs score.Â
Day 187 status: unsuccessful.Â
But it hardly matters when you think youâve already won something a lot better.
link to: epilogue/bonus bit
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