Operation Happy Jeff™ - Jeff Atkins x Reader
Request - “Can I request an angsty/cute Jeff x Reader where he’s having a relly really crappy day and nothing seems to cheer him up so they do all these cute things to make him feel better. Can you also add the promt “There’s that smile” to it?”
A/N: Beware the grumpy Jeff. Sulky and adorable.
The room was so dimly lit that you were struggling to see. In fact, it took you a good few minutes to make out Jeff’s cocooned figure in the corner. You sighed. You knew something was up. He’d been acting strange over text and refused to let you call him when you asked. So, you did what any good friend would do and risked a speeding ticket driving over to his place as soon as you could. You did what any best friend helplessly in love would do.
The first step in what you were now calling; ‘Operation Happy Jeff™’, was to get some sunlight in. Jeff still hadn’t acknowledged your presence, but you swaggered over to the windows and violently pulled the curtains nevertheless.
“Ow fuck!” He squinted. “Y/N, what the fuck are you doing here?” He remained curled in the corner shielding his eyes.
“I’m taking you to Disney-world.” You crossed your arms earnestly.
“Fuck off are you taking me to Disney-world.”
“Well, no. You know my monthly income wouldn’t even cover a day trip for one person, but that’s not the point! It’s metaphorical. The point is that by the end of the day you are going to be so ecstatic that you’ll feel like you’re in Disney-world.”
“I don’t think that’s-”
“Come on! Get up!” You yanked up the complaining Jeff and coaxed him downstairs.
“Your piece of shit car couldn’t get us to Disney-world anyway.” He muttered under his breath. You hit him round the head.
“Talk shit about Herman again and i’ll leave.” You crossed your arms, watching as he sat at the kitchen counter. Despite his protests, he didn’t really want his best friend to leave, he was grateful when you’d turned up.
“I’m not going to make you talk to me about it until you’re ready.” Your tone had softened now. Step two of ‘Operation Happy Jeff™’ was now ready to be set in motion. Wildlife Watching.
“No. No?” He protested after you’d told him the plan.
“Why not. It’s a great way to relax and the sun will release your endorphins.” You stomped out into Jeff’s garden, him dragging his heels behind you.
He rolled his eyes. “But it’s so boring!”
“That’s what a boring person would say.”
“We’re not going to see anything from my garden anyway.”
Half an hour later, you’d seen a few birds, and a worm- but Jeff was still not impressed. ‘Did you know the brown stuff in their bodies is their poop?’ he’d said with disgust. Time for Step Three you guessed.
“How is giving you a piggy back meant to make me feel better again?” Jeff grumbled, walking you around his coffee table.
“You’re helping others!”
“But you can walk.”
“GALLOP TRUSTY STEED!”
“GALLOP.” You pulled at his t shirt slightly as though it were reins.
He gritted his teeth and galloped lacklustredly round the table, warranting a loud cackle from you.
He put you down and turned to you. “You’re just making me feel like an idiot.”
“My favourite idiot.” You placed a hand on his cheek and wobbled it slightly. He rolled his eyes again.
“Look, Y/N, it’s pointless. You might as well give up now.” He threw your hand off of him.
“I’m not giving up on you Jeff.” Your eyes bore into his, more serious now.
“I wish you wouldn’t say crap like that.” He slumped on to the couch.
“Why? You know how much I care about you and how I hate seeing you like this?”
He shook his head, trying to prevent himself from saying something stupid. Sensing his discomfort, you flopped down on the couch next to him. Step Four.
“Guess it’s time to watch Mulan then.”
Mulan was Jeff’s favourite, he could never not sing along, and the funny bits sent him into fits of laughter. Not this time, though. You were growing more and more concerned the more stuff you tried that would usually cheer him straight up. Nothing was working. You stopped the film halfway through, it was useless.
‘Operation Happy Jeff™’ Step Five really had to pull it out of the bag. Making Cookies.
“Now, is the butter at room temperature?” You asked, mindlessly playing with the whisk.
“Uh, I don’t have a temperature stick thing…you know the…”
“Thermometer? You don’t need one, silly.” You chuckled. “Just tell me if it looks kind of soft.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Jeff shrugged, handing you the tub of butter. He didn’t seem much happier, but he’d definitely put his focus into baking these cookies.
“Measure 125g on the scales.”
He scrunched his face up watching the numbers on the scales, causing your heart to lurch and uncontrollably smile. He was too cute.
“Okay.” He nodded, handing you the bowl. You poured the butter into the sugar.
“Hold the whisk at the top here.” You pointed to the spot above your own hand. “We’re whisking this bitch together.”
You thought you may have caught him in a small smile, but it was so fleeting you weren’t sure.
The whisk buzzed on and you and Jeff moved your hands together in circles, making sure the butter and sugar were creamed. Jeff was so close you could smell him, in all his minty-vanilla glory, and his big hand overlapped yours slightly. You added the eggs and vanilla with your spare hand, and continued to swirl the mixture. Jeff readjusted his grip, brushing your hand slightly.
“That’s done.” You stated, realising that had been a bad idea. “I’ll measure the flour, you can do the chocolate chips.”
He nodded, moving to the other counter to do the chocolate chips.
You poured the flour into the bowl. “Jeff?”
“Do you want to whisk it while i grease the trays?”
“Uh, yeah.” He nodded again.
It all happened pretty quick. The whisk was on full blast and you’d forgotten to tell Jeff to fold the flour in first, and he ended up spraying flour all over the room. All over himself. All over you.
“Oh my god!” You squealed, laughing. Jeff looked shell-shocked. You lobbed the lump of butter in your hand at him, hitting him in the nose.
“Fuck off.” He growled, wiping the butter from his face and lobbing it back at you. Your mouth fell open as the cool substance hit your neck. You shook your head in disbelief, immersing your hand in the bag of flour before running toward him and coating him in another handful. He blew through his mouth, creating a flour cloud, which hit you in the face. And, seeing you coated in flour and grinning at him, his mouth twisted up into a gorgeous beam, his teeth standing out white even against the flour.
“There’s that smile.” You bit through a grin. He looked down at you warmly.
“You did it, you cracked me.” You were so close that his voice was soft and quiet, but still audible. “It should be illegal for you to look so cute covered in flour.”
You scoffed. “I can’t believe Mulan didn’t work but throwing flour at me did.”
“It wasn’t just the flour, really. It was the whole day. I know I complained but I can’t believe you really did all this for me.” He shrugged.
“You know I would do anything for you, Jeff.” You urged.
“That’s part of the problem.” He backed away and leaned against the kitchen counter, wiping his hand down his face. The smile had gone.
“What? I’m sorry I’m… confused.”
“Well part of the reason I’ve been in such a funk today was that for some reason my baseball game was completely off, I really could not play. Realising why was the other reason.” He sighed.
“Why?” You edged closer to him.
“It’s been ever since I saw you and Zach yesterday, I can’t get it out of my head.” Admitted Jeff.
“What do you mean?”
“I couldn’t stand the thought of my best mate with the girl I love.”
You froze. What? What? Were you hearing this correctly?
“Fuck.” He muttered, kicking the counter.
“Jeff I really don’t-”
“I’m gonna regret this.” He inhaled, swiftly moving over to you and cupping your face in his hands. Dry, floury lips were pressed to yours in an instant, shocking you. It took a few beats to register that this was actually Jeff, and press your hands against his warm chest. His heartbeat was fast against your hands, and his own hands warming your cheeks. The way flour met your tongue was kind of gross, but you couldn’t care in the slightest. His right hand moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him. His mouth opened hungrily providing room for your tongue, but instead you bit down on his bottom lip sensually.
He breathed what resembled fuck, and you smiled into his mouth.
“I concur.” You whispered, breaking off and resting your forehead against his. Both of you were breathing roughly and heavily, holding on to the other for stability.
“I guess this is better than Disney-world.”
The morning found Jeff’s arm slung over you, and the success of
‘Operation Happy Jeff™’