blueberry pancakes
summary: spending a soft, slow, sunday morning with your boyfriend dennis whitaker leads to a failed attempt at making breakfast
content warnings: afab, f!reader, gf!reader, super fluffy, dennis and reader are described to have woken up in only undergarments but no smut/suggestiveness otherwise, kissing, dennis is touchy, reader referred to as '(my) baby,' 'love,' 'sweet girl,' and 'darling'; dennis is referred to as 'baby,' 'handsome boy,' and 'honey. that's it!
as you blearily blink open your eyes, the sight you're met with is a rather delicious one.
to your left, dennis is starfished out on his stomach in his big bed, the sheets resting at his hips, his upper body bare. as if he can sense that you've awoken, his arm comes over to drape over your bare waist, hand sliding up to trace over the clasp of your bra.
"can i help you?" you whisper teasingly through a giggle, swatting his hand away just to snuggle under his arm, "good morning, handsome boy."
he chuckles lowly, lifting his arm so you can burrow against him. "ah! your nose is cold, baby," he groans at the feel of the icy thing poking his warm, bare shoulder. "you freak."
you pay his comment no acknowledgment except for a nip to his shoulder. "you're off today, right?" you confirm, earning a nod from him against your head. his lips come down to press warmly to your forehead. "mmm..."
"aw, my baby," he coos gently, clearing his throat to eliminate the sleepiness. "yes, i'm off today. so are you, yeah? amazing."
your hands roam his back, going down to his boxer waistband and back up to his shoulders. "ah, i love you," you sigh, making dennis sigh as well.
"i love you, too, darling," he groans, sitting up against the headboard now. he tugs you atop of him to straddle his hips, leaning forward to press his forehead into your soft chest. his arms lock around your waist, using you like some sort of teddy bear. it's a bear hug in every sense of the word.
you giggle, "dennyyy!" you whine, but he just wraps his arms tighter, like a vice.
"mm, you're too sweet and cozy, baby, i can't help it," he protests, but ultimately releases you from his hold.
he pats your hip. "cmon, up. i'll make breakfast."
once you both crawl out of bed and slip on some clothes--you, some shorts and a t-shirt; him, some pajama pants slung low on his hips--dennis departs to the kitchen to cook while you make the bed. he's quiet, careful not to wake trinity as he grabs a pan and some plates.
you can tell just from the ingredients he gathered that he's making your favorite: his blueberry pancakes. to you, there's nobody who makes better blueberry pancakes than your lover, dennis whitaker.
nobody.
you pad over to him, your socked feet pitter-pattering against the hardwood. you stop behind his taller frame, arms wrapping around his waist as your head falls between his shoulder blades.
"hi, sweet girl," he murmurs while he waits to flip two pancakes, reaching a free hand back to pat the top of your head affectionately. "you didn't have to make the bed, y'know. i plan to snuggle with you in there all day anyway."
you giggle softly. "mm. hi, honey. you're so warm and cozy..." you hum, breathing in the mix of cologne and dennis that clings to him. "it's just habit to make the bed. sorry, denny."
he chuckles. "it's okay. you're feeling so lovey this morning, aren't you, baby?" he coos, turning around briefly to kiss your hairline. his big hands cup your face as he coaxes your big, sleepy eyes to meet his.
when they finally do, he coos once more. "fuck, you're pretty," he sighs before pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your left eyelid, your right, then your nose, and each of your cheeks. then, last but not least, your pretty lips.
you pull away gently after a moment, smiling up at him sweetly. he can literally feel his heart melting, turning into goo in his chest right then and there. you're so fucking cute to him--maybe it's cuteness aggression.
"oh, shit! den, the pancakes!" you squeal, reaching behind him to quickly take the burning pancakes off the pan and plate them.
you giggle uncontrollably as he panics. "oh, shit, baby!" he exclaims, voice cracking with distress. he laughs nervously, tossing the two burnt-to-a-crisp pancakes in the trash. "thank goodness you caught that, baby. otherwise trinity would've eaten us alive for setting the fire alarm off."
you can't stop laughing, replaying in your head the panic on his face when he realized what happened. "denny- you- ha! you looked you scared-"
he picks you up, tickling your sides, happy to listen to your squeals and giggles. "such a brat," he teases. "would you still be laughing if i actually burnt the apartment complex down, huh?"
you squeak. "yeah, i would be, cus ya looked so funny!"
"you're so mean to your poor, old boyfriend, love. where'd my sweet girl go, huh?"
"old? you're 27, den."
"i have an old soul," he pouts, burying his face in your neck. "you know me."
despite yourself, you can't help but smile fondly and bring your fingers to his hair to scritch softly at his scalp beneath his curls. "yeah, i do know you, honey. real well."
