#(everything I do is hella stressful bc of this but my brain loves to concentrate in the last possible moment and not one minute earlier)

[why-the-heck-not]

My downfall with not-too-serious deadlines: I’m not submitting it on the day of, and most definitely not ahead of schedule. Because oh !! no no no ! ! My brain knows the secret third option of ”very first thing next morning”

[panda-noosh]

You opened your requests??? Can i get some hunk fluff w a s/o who is hella stressed by ap college classes? Bc thats me atm, I just wrote a 10 page lab report on potatoes and gelatin. Anyway, you doing amazing sweetheart ❤

words: 1.1k

notes: i googled facts about potatoes for this fic so yay. 

+++

    Hunk groaned, rolled over and reached for you - only to be met with the cold surface of the empty mattress.

    He frowned in his drousy state, opening one eye and peering over at the space you were supposed to be tending - but you weren’t. In fact, it looked to Hunk like you hadn’t even come to bed last night.

    He sighed to himself, pulling the sheets tighter around his shoulders and rolling back over; this had been a common occurrence for a while now. Hunk would go to bed, leaving you to your own dealings after you had promised him that you would be up to bed soon enough - Hunk would then wake up in the middle of the night to see you hadn’t actually kept your promise, and the bed was still empty beside him. Your college classes were driving you insane, and Hunk could see the stress from a mile away.

    You always got like this whenever school was getting overwhelming. You would stay up into the early hours of the morning in your attempts to get everything done, and Hunk could only watch from the sidelines as the stress got worse and worse. You would ignore the world if it meant you could just get one more draft done on the paper that your professor had assigned the week before.

    Hunk knew there was no point in him trying to get back to sleep. He was worried about you, and with that worry came a need to make sure you were okay. He half expected to look over and see you falling asleep at the desk in the corner, but when he raised his head from his pillow and saw you weren’t actually present, it was a no-brainer that you were busy working yourself into the ground somewhere else.

    He grumbled, stood up and made his way to the kitchen, the soft sound of his bare feet padding against the tiled floor ringing out around him. The house was so silent at this time of night.

    He turned the corner to the kitchen, paused in the doorway when he saw that he was, indeed, correct - there you were, leaned over the kitchen table with a pen in your hand and your books open before you. A pair of reading glasses were perched on the end of your nose, and your empty coffee cup had left multiple rings indented into the table cloth.

    Hunk could barely help his smile. You were yet to look up and notice him, giving him the perfect opportunity to simply gaze at you in what had to be your natural habitat - working, making yourself busy. You never did enjoy being relaxed and doing nothing with your day. You always had something on your mind, an errand you needed to run, an assignment you needed to complete.

    Watching you in your state of complete concentration reminded Hunk why he had fallen in love with you in the first place.

    He sighed and made his way over to the table, sitting himself down in the chair next to you. You flinched up at the sudden intrusion, eyes growing wide behind your spectacles when you looked up and saw Hunk sitting there.

    “What are you doing up?” you hissed, voice hoarse. “It’s 3am!”

   “I noticed you weren’t in bed,” Hunk replied, before shooting you a glare. “Again.”

    You flushed. “I just have this research paper to finish, and then I was gonna go to sleep. I promise.”

    Hunk scoffed, knowing full well that it was never that easy with you. He didn’t bother humouring you with a reply and instead flicked his gaze to the book in front of you - it was open to a page on potatoes, an odd subject in Hunk’s opinion, but he kept his mouth shut. He dragged the book over to his side of the table and started to skim read the contents; the information was much too boring for Hunk to internalise properly, meaning the most he could do was pick up a few facts from the dense text and hopefully pick up something that would help you out.

    He felt your gaze on the side of his face as he read, could just tell that there was an amused grin forming on your features. Though Hunk was definitely intelligent, he got his information from doing things. He learned how to hack into a computer system by hacking into a computer system, not sitting down and taking step-by-step instructions from a textbook. This was a thing he just wasn’t used to.

    But it would help you out in the end, so he was sitting down and forcing himself to at least make the effort.

    “Find anything interesting?” you asked groggily.

   Hunk pointed to a specific part of the text. “Did you know that China is the lead producer of potatoes?”

    You giggled. “I did know that, considering I’ve read that page ten times over in the past three hours.”

    “Potatoes can also be pollinated by insects such as bumblebees,” Hunk mused, feigning interest. He looked up at you and gawked as if the fact had shocked him, causing you to laugh at his exhausted stupidity.

    You grabbed the book and dragged it back over to you. “You get delirious when you’re tired.”

    “I’m not delirious,” Hunk insisted. “And I won’t go to bed until you do. These AP classes are taking their toll on you, and I don’t like how much you’re working.”

    You frowned. “I have no choice. This adds up to my final grade, you know.”

   “And you can get it done in the morning,” he grumbled. He stood up on shaky legs, his own fatigue finally catching up to him. He reached down and grabbed your hands, trying to pull you up with him, but you resisted with a child-like whine.

    “Hunk, I have to get it done so I can concentrate on my gelatin paper tomorrow!” you groaned, tossing your head back.

   “Come on. Your brain is never gonna work properly if you keep staying up late.” Hunk tugged on your hands once again, and this time you complied, stumbling up from your chair and letting your head fall into the crook of his neck.

    Hunk chuckled, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and his own hands around your waist. “Somebodies tired.”

   “Exhausted,” you grunted. “Can you carry me to bed?”

   Hunk grinned. “As you wish, you spoilt brat.” You giggled into his neck as Hunk lifted you up bridal style and headed for bed, fatigue and excitement buzzing in his system.