Motionless In White One-Shots

Little Muffin Fairy (Chris)

This one kinda sucks but I thought it was cute. Also, I need prompts for those Yandere themed one shots I've been doing. I need Vinny, Ryan and Balz. Thanks!

'La, la, la! Stress baking! I'm stress baking! I'm scared of dying so I make some special brownies be-fore I start crying! Stress baking! I'm stress baking!' I sang loudly, opening the oven and sniffing butterscotch brownies I had placed in there thirty minutes earlier. They smelt ready, so I slipped on my kitty oven mitts and turned the oven off, pulling the desserts out and placing them on the cooking rack to harden. While they set, I made sure to wash all the dishes I had used before, drying them and then putting them away. I then melted some chocolate, pouring it into a small measuring cup and lightly drizzling it onto each of the brownies in the shape of a heart. Of course, then I cleaned up some more. I had a bit of an unhealthy habit of making messes for me to clean up when I was stressed. Usually when I had a bad day at the bakery, I'd go home, try not to cry, clean up the house, cry a little bit, then make a mess so that I could clean it up. It kept me occupied until my boyfriend got home. I didn't tell him about the intense depression and anxiety I had harboured since I was a kid, mostly since we had been dating for almost ten years and I didn't want to suddenly tell him something like that. Instead, I made him treats.
Right on time, Chris came home and flopped onto the couch, screaming into the midnight black cushions. 'Sweetie? Is that you?'
'Yeah...' He replied, voice muffled by the couch. I put on a warm smile, picking up the tray of brownies and carrying them into the lounge room and placing them on the coffee table. He slowly peeked out from the cushions, his short black hair sticking to his forehead as he looked over at me. 'You look adorable in your little apron...'
'You look adorable always...' I flirted, picking up a brownie and kneeling down beside the couch. He immediately opened his mouth, letting me break off a small piece and drop it onto his tongue before he shut his lips and placed a small kiss on my finger as he chewed. 'I tried using butterscotch chips instead of normal chocolate chips...'
'Perfect, as always...' He spoke through the food he was still chewing on. '...you should start making me snacks before I leave in the morning.' He smiled, swallowing.
'Last time I did, Balz ate them all.'
'Yeah...I know he was just playing around but it pissed me off pretty bad...' Chris exhaled deeply, turning around onto his back and taking a full brownie from the plate and eating a bit.
'He would probably apologise if you told him how it made you feel...'
'He would,' Chris began, swallowing his bite, 'but I have to stay cheery and optimistic for them. Even here, I sometimes stop myself from saying and doing what I want to say or do...' I pressed a kiss to his cheek, chest fluttering as he continued to eat the treats I had made until there was nothing but crumbs. 'Fuck, you spoil me, (Y/n)...'
'I can keep spoiling you if it means you'll cheer up...' I hinted, climbing up onto his lap and leaning over him. I ran my tongue over the small crumbs that littered his lips and got stuck under his piercings. He was right, the brownies did taste pretty good. Although I wasn't sure if it was actually the brownies or just him. Either way, it craved more of the taste. Sadly, the moment things began to grow heated, Chris' phone began to buzz loudly in his pocket, the familiar tone that went off whenever his stepdad called.
'Fucking hell...' He sighed, hands creeping from my sides into his pockets. It took him a moment, but he eventually slid his phone out of his jeans and pressed it to his ear. 'Hello? What? No, I- she's fine! I'm not- mum? Mum, put him back on the phone. Mum, I'm not coming over, I just got home! Mum!' I pressed my hand against his abdomen, finally catching his attention. I mouthed "it's fine" to him before he inevitably groaned and agreed to what his mother was asking if him. I knew what it was. She constantly begged him to bring me home for dinner, seeing as how we had only met once and it was before I started dating Chris. Chris always hated going home to visit his mum and stepdad, mostly because it meant his real dad would eventually call and begin planning things as though it was out of spite against his mother. It was unhealthy, but somewhat natural at the same time, which confused me. Eventually, Chris got to hang up and it left me gently grinding on his crotch, asking him what was happening. 'She wants us to come over tonight. Apparently your shop was on the news and she wanted to celebrate or some shit.'
'That's nice of her...'
'Yes but I hate going out...'
'I know, sweetheart, I know...but it was inevitable. It's been years, you knew it was going to happen.'
'Yeah...what about you?' He asked, tilting his head back.
'What do you mean?'
'Did you want to properly meet my mum or is this bothering you as well?'
'I want whatever you want...
'You always say that.' He sat up, arms digging into the couch to hold himself up. 'Sometimes I wonder what you really want for us...'
'How so?'
'I mean...do you want to get married? Have kids? I don't know what you want to do...Whenever I'm on tour, I get this nagging feeling that you're not okay...'
'I'm fine, trust me.'
'Do you go for walks? Talk with friends? See your family?'
'No, no and only when they unexpectedly come over.' I answered, wrapping my arms around his neck. 'I don't do anything that wastes my time.'
'All you ever do is cook...I mean, I'm grateful, but you don't have to. It's not the 1930's, you can do whatever you'd like.'
'But I like it...it distracts me...' I sighed, beginning to wonder if I should tell him.
'From what?' He genuinely sounded concerned, but I didn't want him to know. I didn't want him to worry. 'Are you...is there something you're not telling me?'
'Nothing serious...just...when you're not around, I-I panic...I bake because it distracts me...all I do is bake and cry and clean some more...It's not a sexism thing, it's just a mental health thing...'
He didn't even seem phased by that fact. He just lifted one of his hands and brought it to my cheek. 'On your days off, I want you to come with me...no more of this "housewife" bullshit...you deserve to go outside and exist...'
'Okay...'
'Thank you. Now, get off me. We have to go to my mum place.'

To put it lightly, it was fine. Chris' mum was nice and his stepdad tried to get along with him, but the moment Chris was asked if we planned to get married, it all fell apart. Chris kept in in until we got home but then immediately crashed onto the couch and began screaming his beautiful head off. 'I don't fucking understand! They keep fucking pestering me about this shit! "When can I expect grandkids! Have you proposed to her yet?" I'm so fucking don't with the constant nagging!' He belted into the pillows, startling me. I shakily shut the front door behind me and stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to say or do.
'U-Um...d-did you...um...' I softly muttered, before giving up and shuffling upstairs to our bedroom. It wasn't often that Chris had nights like these, where he'd just scream and throw pillows until he passed out, but it still scared me. I knew he'd never lay a finger on me, but it was more a fear of not being able to protect him from himself.
I silently slipped my casual outfit off and dropped it onto the washing basket before dressing myself in a pair of shorts and one of Chris' oversized shirts. It smelt like him and I always found myself sleeping happily when I could smell him, though it did sound strange. As I crawled into bed, a strange yet sudden wave of tiredness hitting me, I began to think. I had been with him since I was fifteen, and he was seventeen. We never once argued about our relationship, I had never even dated anybody else. I began to wonder if maybe he needed a break from me. Maybe I was the person at fault for all his stress. '(Y/n)?' I flinched as the bedroom door slowly creamed open, light from the hallway flooding through before disappearing as the light clicked off. I heard the door shut before Chris crawled beside me, obviously feeling bad for how he reacted. 'Are you mad at me?'
'No...' I murmured into my pillow, keeping my back facing him.
'Do you...do you still love me?' Those words are what got me to turn around and look at him, despite the room being almost pitch black.
'What kind of stupid question is that?'
'It's stupid because you do or because you don't.'
'Of course I love you...'
'So you'd marry me if I asked you?'
'In a heartbeat.'
'So why aren't we married?'
'Because marriage is just dating with more lawsuits.' For some reason, he snickered when I said that.
'But, I mean...do you think that if we got married, anything would change? We already live together, both our names are on the lease, we've owned pets together, you've had, like, two pregnancy scares. Why not just get married?'
'By that logic, there's also no point to it.' I pointed out, sitting up and plopping my hands on my lap.
'You sound like you don't want to...if you don't, you can just tell me.'
'It's not that,' I started as he sat up beside me, 'it's just that if we get married, I don't want it to be out of logic or obligation, it should be out of love. Pure, undeniable, disgusting love. So,' I slowly moved over, plopping myself down on his lap and running my fingers through his hair, 'Chris "probably a giraffe in with human skin" Cerulli, do you love me enough to put up with my constant baking, nihilism and random blowjobs for the rest of your life, assuming divorce isn't an option.'
'Of course I do...do you love me through my neediness, love for Vanilla Coke and crippling fear of clown that don't kill you?'
'I love you more with those strange personality traits...'
'Then let's get married...nothing big, but we'll invite our friends, family and at least 12 cats.'
'Sounds like a dream.'