TANK

30 (fluff, plot, smut)

I blink awake, feeling like Ive been dragged back from the brink of death. I look around, trying to take in my surroundings. I slowly realize I'm in the living room, having been moved at some point. One of the first things I notice is that it's now dark out. The second thing I notice is the overwhelmingly tantalizing smell of food.

I moan quietly, burying myself back in the blanket carefully wrapped around me. I keep my eyes cracked, desperate to wake up. My body is still fucking exhausted, every muscle sore from our... earlier activities.

I watch as Tank appears, rounding the corner from the kitchen back into the living room, staring down at his phone. He doesn't seem to notice I'm already awake, as he silently leans on the arm of the couch next to my head, eyes locked to his phone.

I immediately want attention. I lift my arm, hooking my fingers into his shirt and tug with a small noise. Tank startles initially, head snapping to look at me with a look of surprise on his face. His eyes land on me and I blink up at him. The expression on his face softens, and he turns toward me, leaning closer as he lifts a hand, placing it on my head and stroking my hair.

"You're up." Tank says, smiling. "I'm cooking dinner." He says. I nod into the blanket, and barely poke my head out, just to address him.

"It smells good." I mumble, pressing against his hand. "How'd I get out here?" I ask, noticing my voice is a bit rough, probably from nearly screaming, and actually screaming earlier today.

Tank locks his phone and drops it to my stomach, fully turning to me. "Oh, I got hungry. I carried you out here so I could keep you close." He looks at me, considering. "I didn't want you to wake up alone, I didn't know what kind of... headspace you'd be in, I guess." He admits, looking more than a little embarrassed.

I look at him for a short moment, considering his words, then immediately get embarrassed myself and bury my face under my blanket with a groan. I know our relationship has gotten a lot more intimate but... some of the things said this morning were— are, overwhelming. "I really told you to 'fuck me harder than that'." I squeak from under the blanket, hiding from him. "I can't be held responsible for the brat you make me during sex." I say, groaning in embarrassment.

I hear Tank laugh before I feel the weight shift on the couch. The blanket is pulled off my head, and I'm face to face with a bemused looking Tank, crouching in front of me. He leans forward just to press a kiss to my forehead, before settling back, searching my face with an appraising gaze. "Yeah, well, I really said, 'I'm going to fucking break you.' So... we're even." He says, ducking his face into my neck, suddenly bashful.

I feel a laugh bubbling in my throat as I wrap my hands around his head, holding him in place as I card my fingers through his hair. I choose to ignore the way my stomach jumps, hearing him say those words again. "Fair... it was hot though." I say, pressing a kiss to his head.

Tank huffs a laugh into my skin, burying his face into my chest, half crawling on top of me. Suddenly his phone timer blares, ripping us out of the moment. "Oh fuck. The food." Tank says, groaning before pulling off of me. I let out a small noise of protest, but let him pull back, watching him head back to the kitchen.

I'm awake now, and bored without Tank. I have no idea where my phone is, so I grab his. I'm greeted by the lock screen, a picture of a fucking mushroom, of course. "What's your password? Like for your phone." I call out to Tank, flopping my head back as I wait. My chest warms as he calls out the six digits without a question, and I unlock it.