BUTTERCREAMS ONE-SHOTS!

Conor's Blanket Burrito (Conor x Reader)

Conor had been one of your best friends for about 6 years and it had been two weeks since he had answered his phone or his door. The only way he got away with it was because Jack and Josh had been in La for a convention and ended up extending their trip.

"Babe, answer your phone. If you don't call me back I'm breaking into your flat." You said into the phone.

 

You didn't want to talk to his flatmates about it because It felt like you were betraying his trust, but you had to check on Conor. Assuming the rumors were true, his girlfriend cheated on him. The boys were coming back in two days and you weren't going to let them find Conor like you knew he'd be. So you had asked Josh where the spare key was and you were on your way over with chocolate, wine, and Nandos. 

 

Letting yourself into the flat, you realized it was as bad as you'd guessed. The trash hadn't been taken out, there were broken picture frames and broken glass by the front door, and the flat was absolutely freezing. 

 

You spent about 20 minutes cleaning before heading upstairs, taking a minute to dump the trash and run the dishes as well. Walking up the stairs, you brought your bags with you. 

 

"Conor." You said, sad to see your friend like this. 

 

"Just leave." Was all he said, not moving from his blanket burrito. 

 

"Babe, I'm not going anywhere." You said, setting your supplies and his food down on his desk. 

 

"Well I'm not moving." He replied. 

 

"You don't have to for a few minutes. I need to clean up in here, anyways." His eyes followed you around the room. You picked up trash and cleaned up more glass. Gathered his laundry and picked up his bathroom. "Why is it so cold in here?" You asked. 

 

"It broke. Everything is fucking broken and I just don't care to fix any of it." Conor said, still acting like you weren't going to get him out of bed. 

 

Seeing that one of the picture frames had blood on it, you started to worry Conor had stepped on the glass. "Love, did you cut your foot?" 

 

"Yes." He said, wiggling his foot out of his blanket burrito knowing you weren't going to drop it. 

 

"That's pretty bad. We need to clean it up." You said, gently running your fingers over the cut. Seeing Conor's foot flinch, you apologized. 

 

"It's not you." He said, his voice cracking. 

 

You absolutely hated seeing him look so broken. You crawled into the bed behind him and put your arms around his middle. You simply laid there with him until he had cried himself out of tears. "Please let me take care of you?" 

 

Conor nodded yes, and then made you laugh by saying "God I need a piss." 

 

"Go to the bathroom." You laughed, pulling his covers off of him.

 

When Conor went into his bathroom he didn't even bother closing the door. You quickly stripped his bed of its stinky sheets and duvet and ran downstairs to chuck them in the washer. When you came back into his room, he was just walking out of the bathroom. "You sneaky bitch." He half smiled at you.