THE SHIELD ⇾ one shots and preferences

s.r. | one shot | are you cooking?

You opened your tired eyes to the blaring alarm you had set last night. The shrill siren beeped over and over, seeming to grow shriller and shriller each time it sounded. It was practically screaming at you to shed your blanket cocoon and get ready for work, so you reached over to turn it off with a sour scowl. After all, you hated being told what to do.

You stared up at the off-white ceiling above you for a long second, letting your mind fall blank for just a moment before you brought your hands to your face and inhaled sharply. You left your hands on your face as you let last night return to you - something you had wanted to avoid thinking about for as long as possible. Considering it was six in the morning and you had been up for approximately five minutes, you were failing...horrendously.

A few days ago, you had agreed to let one of your co-workers stay at your apartment with you. It was strictly platonic; he had been down on his luck financially, and since he seemed like somewhat of a decent guy during the day, you agreed to helping him out. It turned out this his agreeable facade was just that - a facade. Seth Rollins was verbally belligerent and downright vile. Last night, you had come home from an extremely stressful day at the office to find a full fledged gathering going on in your living room. There had been four or five rowdy strangers in your living room, none of them claiming responsibility for the beer that was soaking into your carpet. Seth had argued and debated with your for nearly twenty minutes before you found yourself too flustered to continue and make off for bed. You had went to sleep in a foul mood, and you found yourself slipping back into it when you realized you would have to clean up the aftermath before work; Seth hadn't cleaned up one thing since the minute he stepped through the door.

You rolled out of bed and slipped on a fluffy robe, skulking towards the door. You stood in front of the portal with a brooding frown, bracing yourself for the mess that would inevitably be before you. You took a deep breath and placed your hand on the handle, twisting it and stepping into the livingroom.

The scene before you was something you never, ever expected to see.

The living room was in pristine condition (it even looked better than when you cleaned it). The beige carpet showed no signs of alcoholic beverages, and the only smell in the air was vanilla and coffee. The couch was tidy and each throw pillow was in its proper corner, and not a scrap of trash was to be seen. The final piece of the shocking puzzle stood at the stove, looking at you with an impish smirk. 

Seth Rollins - garbed in his plaid pajama pants, white tee-shirt, and your 'kiss the cook' apron - was cooking!

"What the- How did you-?...Are you cooking?" Your sleep deprived brain struggled to comprehend the scene before it. The man you had labeled as 'self entitled' and 'evil incarnate' was doing something for someone beside himself...this had to be some brilliant dream, right?

"Yes," Seth answered matter-of-factly, a proud tone in his deep raspy voice. "I've found people are less likely to kick me out of their house when I clean up and cook an elaborate meal," he told cooly, and even though he was playing coy, you could tell there was an underlying hint of an apology.  

You were practically speechless. "I...jeez..." You failed to lace a sentence together, furrowing your brows together while you ran your fingers through your messy bed-head. 

"Oh, don't look so constipated. I haven't given anyone food poisoning in ages!" Seth insisted pointedly, turning his back to you to flip the sausage in the pan. His words held a little less malice than usual, and the tiredness in his eyes was apparent. He must have stayed up all night cleaning and cooking, and by this time, his buzz would have worn off. 

You frowned at his little jab, but you found yourself being drawn to the coffee pot - your morning addiction. You reached out to grab the pot, but you immediately retracted your hand when Seth lashed out to slap it away. 

"Yours is over there, klepto," he pointed towards the table with his spatula.

In your usual spot, there was a mug of hot coffee waiting for you. Steam billowed out of the top like a signal fire, beckoning you to come towards it. You smiled a bit to yourself and reached for the sugar and creamer that sat beside the pot.

Seth cleared his throat but didn't bother to lift his eyes from the pan. "I already put that stuff in it. You're predictable." 

You let your smile grow a little wider as you allowed yourself to enjoy the experience. It was nice, actually! 

You shuffled over to the table and sat on the wooden stool, kicking your socked feet back and forth while you timidly sipped on the warm coffee. It was just the right temperature - almost as if he had poured it when he heard your alarm go off so it had time to cool. You didn't have too much time to appreciate it, though, because mere seconds later, Seth was placing a plate in front of you that was piled with various breakfast foods. Omelette, bacon, sausage, pancakes - the whole ten yards. 

You couldn't help but stare at the intimidating amount of food before you for a few seconds. Seth cleared his throat impatiently. "It's rude to keep the chef waiting!" He urged, his voice almost anxious. 

"Okay, okay," you chuckled, picking up your fork and stabbing into the heap of food. When you took your first bite, Seth raised a brow in hopes of hearing some type of positive feedback. 

There was a few moments of silence before Seth cracked. "Are we even for last night?" 

"We are so even," you assured him as you stuffed another bite of fluffy pancakes in your gob. "God, it's like sex in your mouth!" You oozed happily, unable to deny how good of a chef he was. "You are the man, Rollins!" You insisted, pointing the fork at him with a lofty grin. All the anger you had felt the night before was melting away with every bite you took. 

Seth let out a chuckle of relief. "Thank God," he muttered, a yawn escaping between his lips. "The man needs some sleep, so I'm gonna go catch some shut eye while you continue eating away all your dignity," he dismissed himself with a content smile, sauntering off into the bedroom and closing the door behind him. 

You were too in love with the food before you to be angry with Seth any longer. That is, until your eyes drifted to the counter full of dirty dishes, and the smile dropped from your face. 

"Rollins!"

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Hey, guys! Just wanted to let you know that I'm on Twitter now (@lovely_lunatic_)! I'll be posting a ton of WWE related things on there, so if you have a Twitter, go follow me! I'll be reposting prompts that I'll be using for this book, so consider it a sneak peek before the chapter comes out! :)