old fashioned || karl jacobs x reader

11: best to you

SORRY FOR FALLING OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH

had a bit of a rough week but I'm glad to be back writing :) long chapter ahead to make up for it!

In the morning, I woke messily sprawled across my bed in nothing but my underwear. I could hardly recall the day before, even though I could make out distinct feelings I had felt. I recalled bits and pieces, but it was mostly before the high really hit us. I remembered playing Smash with Karl and remnants of us watching Survivor, but I couldn't, for the life of me, recall what we had ordered to eat or really anything past that point. Somehow, I had made it to bed safely but I couldn't pinpoint when I had made that decision. All I could really remember was that I had enjoyed myself last night, which was all that mattered.

A sting of cold waved over my body as I gained consciousness. I sat up from my bed and wandered to my closet where I threw on a sweatshirt and a pair of pajama pants from my dresser. I wandered out of my cold room with my phone in hand, rubbing my eyes sleepily as I made my way to the kitchen. Noticing I was the only one awake, I began a pot of coffee and quietly tuned into the sound of it brewing. My fingers lazily scrolled through my phone, checking in on social media and making sure I hadn't posted or sent anything embarrassing. Luckily, I hadn't found anything at all. I must've kept my phone away from myself all night.

Almost startling me, I heard a croaky voice come from Karl's side of the house. "Hey, good morning," he hummed as he walked into the kitchen.

I turned and faced him, grinning at his appearance. "Good morning," I returned as I looked over to the coffee pot knowingly, "I'm getting some coffee ready if you want some."

"That sounds great," he breathed, "thank you."

I leaned against the counter, focus mostly on my phone still, as Karl sat at the opposing counter. The bubbling and dripping of the coffee pot filled the house while we quietly went through our phones. From the looks of it, Karl had just rolled out of bed with his half-open eyes and mess of hair. He was wearing a baggy t-shirt and blue pajama pants, the shirt's collar leaning loosely across his shoulders. It looked like at any moment he would just fall asleep again.

Once the brewing halted, I filled up a mug for him and slid it across the counter with the half-and-half and sugar. While he fixed his coffee, I poured my own and used the dressings as he finished. It was quiet. Now with the coffee pot off, the only noises in the house were the hushed sounds of us sipping and our silent breaths. In a way, it felt awkward. What happened last night? I mean, surely nothing bad. Maybe we were hyper or the cookie had just drained us of all energy in our body. I felt relatively fine, though, it was Karl that looked rather down.

"What time did we go to bed last night?" I asked, peering over my mug and silencing the loud hush over the house.

His head perked up, shaggy hair falling just above his eyebrows. "Umm," he hummed while trying to recall, "not sure. Late, maybe. We watched through, like, half a season of Survivor."

Now, I felt some of my memories come back. I remembered sitting down with Karl to watch his favorite show with him, laying across the couch comfortably while he cuddled up close to me. His body was warm and he knew just where to wrap his arm and how to fit us together like puzzle pieces. In the moment, I hadn't even realized how I could smell him and his pleasing, faint, floral scent that lingered on his clothes. And how his chin rubbed against my scalp while likely taking in my scent as well.

"Oh God," I let out a chuckle of disbelief while leaning back against the counter, "it's all coming back now."

"Did you like it?" Karl asked curiously.