BFDI shipping and intercourse book lol

(Lightby;2;fluff) A Sunday

Lightning woke up to see that he had no company in bed. Whew, it'd all been a dream, he thought. But then, what was that smell? He got out of bed and checked the kitchen to investigate.

Sure enough, Ruby was there, cooking on his stove, with what appeared to be stuff from his fridge. He looked at the woman who'd so viciously forced herself into his life. This was beggining to be too much. For a day, ok, it's a joke, maybe a bad dream. But waking up to her still being here? This woman who'd just decided she'd start "accompannying" him everywhere he went over some stupid secret of hers? What was even her plan? Follow him for the rest of his life?

Ruby looked up from her pot and saw Lightning floating down to the floor to have a mental breakdown. She kept stirring the pot, unmetaphorically, and pretty much ignored the crying mess for about a minute longer before deeming the soup prepared, turning off the gas and walking over to him.

She hugged him and pat his back, saying: "It's ok hubby, I'm here for you. It's ok. It'll all be fine. We'll pull through. I get that you're having trouble getting over your feelings of violated privacy, but trust me, you'll get over it. I'll help you. We'll get through this together, ok?"

He kept crying into her arms. He was too overwhelmed to get away from her at the moment, and scared of all the implications she'd made regarding the results of such an act. What was he to do? He didn't want to be shackled to her! Yet here she was, comforting him. With an agenda, but comforting him nonetheless.

She tired of telling him her propaganda and decided it was time to continue with her morning plan, or the sketch thereof that her bubbly mind contained. Nevermind, not a plan nor a sketch of one. A set of about 4 bullet points, two of them entirely redundant.

She took him up into her arms and carried him into a chair at the kitchen table. She sat him on it and set the pot on the table, gave him a bowl, a spoon and a portion using his ladle.

He had stopped crying and was now merely unresponsive. He did, however, swallow adequate-temperatured soup upon having it placed in his mouth. Once she'd finished breakfast with him, she pulled him to the living room.

There, she sat on his couch and sat him between her legs (, object limbs being too thin for sitting in someone's lap to really be feasible).

He had a slight awareness of what was going on. The soup had been good. The comforting had been okay. Was he rationalising surrender???!! He didn't know! And the only authority nearby was untrustworthy, with strange motives. Right? But he was lonely. Wasn't this just what he needed? A bae? Ugh, his mind hurt. Something was poking him.

"Hubby, you know what day it is!"
"..."
"You know what day it is!"
"..."

She gave her uncooperative spouse-to-be a poke. And another and another, repeating the question.

Eventually: "Sunday."

"Good boy! Now you know what that means...."

"..."

Confusion, unknowing, attitude, whatever, she wasn't having any of it. She heaved a heavy, leatherbound book before them. "Here, I'll read a paragraph. You read the next paragraph. We keep switching like that until we find that line you get rid of me with. Did ya catch that?"

"Yeah." He was barely back, and she was asking... well, actually, demanding to read the Bible with him. He thought for a second about how long a prisom could hold her. No, he'd rather not strain the country. Better to bear this cross, this gem.

Two hours later, Lightning hadn't found his salvation yet. His, and her too, he noted, throat was dry. "I'll go get a glass of water."

"Bring me one, too."

He couldn't help but smile at the arrogance.

They read until deciding to have lunch, which Lightning ate autonomously this time. Knowing he wouldn't forgive himself otherwise, he complimented Ruby's cooking.

She responded: "Well, you're well endowed enough to get reelected from vicepresident in the 60s."

The reference went over his top, and lunch concluded.

More reading. She was really serious about this, huh. So was she also serious about him?

At least she didn't follow him into the shower and toilet. When he brushed his teeth though, her constant advice was rather irritating. Not enough so for his gums to bleed though. And she got up to no tomfoolery in bed except a hug. He was half-tempted to return it.

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A/N: A short and small update. I'll probably slow down now, don't expect daily updates. Or do, and then tell me how disappointed you are not to see more great work that day. I'd like that as well.