#and roll out sheets like cookie dough | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

keerysfreckles · 10 months ago

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cookies — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x hephaestus fem!reader

summary: in which luke finds y/n, in order to tell her something he's been meaning to for the past two years

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, i think thats it ??? making out/kissing

a/n: I FINISHED TLT TODAY- idc if luke is evil (if evil why pookie)

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

y/n l/n thought her life at camp half-blood would've felt like a fairy tale. two years later, she was deeply misguided.

the camp experience itself wasn't bad. she loved meeting the new campers, and bonding with her cabin mates, and seeing luke from time to time.

but even when she got claimed by her father, hephaestus, y/n still felt like a square trying to fit in a triangle hole. hephaestus was the god of forge. fire. craft. creation.

when y/n first arrived to camp, she met luke. he didn't know why, but out of all the campers in hermes cabin, he felt as though he needed to protect y/n the most.

two and a half weeks after meeting luke, y/n had been claimed by her father. the boy was sad to see her leave, but glad as well, due to her being claimed to a new cabin.

as soon as y/n and chiron entered the doors of hephaestus cabin, the duo was met with seven boys. five of them were around the same age as the girl, and the other two looked no older than ten.

this made y/n feel even more out of place. yes, they all made her feel at home, and they still do. y/n just can't help but feel isolated.

less than a week after y/n was claimed, she unfortunately found out forging wasn't the exact type of creation she was skilled at. she tried pottery, metalwork, jewelry making, and even knitting. the girl was crushed when none of the activies suited her.

until one afternoon, she was in the kitchen after helping bring in dirty dishes from lunch. a few ingredients caught her eye, and she instantly started bringing them together and made something delicious. chiron soon came inside, and was both surprised and pleased y/n had found her activity. cooking.

this leads y/n to where she is right now. the camp kitchen. ever since the fateful day she discovered her gift, she rarely ever left the kitchen. y/n was considered the new cook of camp, and she enjoyed everything about it.

recently, the girl has taken baking into her small circle of talents. which explains why all day y/n has been baking cookies for tomorrow. it was percy's birthday, and annabeth asked her to make blue chocolate chip cookies for him, one of percy's favorite foods. she had to make enough for the whole camp. almost one hundred cookies were already baked and cooled, and she had one hundred more to go.

annabeth kept checking on y/n every so often, to see her progress (and to make sure she took breaks and to not overwork herself). two times the younger girl came in the kitchen, her and y/n talked for a bit. y/n kept teasing annabeth at all the staring she'd been doing towards percy lately. to be fair, it was annabeth's idea to have the cookies for percy's birthday, so y/n knew something had to be going on between the two tweens.

y/n doesn't notice the person who had entered the kitchen. she heard footsteps, so she guessed it was annabeth.

luke stood in the doorway of the kitchen. he took a moment to admire the girl in front of him. y/n stood behind the kitchen island, with a metal bowl, a baking sheet, and other multiple baking utensils layed out over the countertop. luke could smell a batch of cookies in the oven at the right of the kitchen, along with the fresh ones all placed on the counters behind y/n.

luke finally knocks on the door, making y/n look up from rolling balls of cookie dough. a smile was quick to fill her features, "hi luke."

luke walked over towards her, leaning on the island, standing across from her.

"how are percy's birthday cookies coming along?" he asks, seeing the girl still at work.

y/n nods, "they're going," she laughs, "that's for sure."

"i was looking for you earlier," luke admits, as he continues to watch y/n at work.

looking up from her blue stained hands, y/n sees a small blush covering luke's cheeks. "oh yeah?"

it's luke's turn to nod, "yeah, but the hephaestus boys said you'd be in here."

y/n chuckles, before the two sit in a comfortable silence for no less than a minute.

"did you need me for something?" y/n asks, as she takes two baking sheets to the oven. luke only laughs while watching y/n open the oven with her foot, as her hands were full.

"i just wanted to come check on you," luke moves to side of the kitchen island y/n was previously on. "you have made quite the mess in here."

both luke and y/n look at the batches of cookies, the reminants of cookie dough on the counters, empty bowls in both of the sinks, and flour on the kitchen island and floor.

"what's the real reason you wanted to see me luke?" y/n asks the boy, knowing that he had a tell when he was nervous. he always licked his lips before speaking.

"what? i can't just want to see a dear friend of mine?" he jokes.

"oh you can," y/n responds, "except, whenever you visited me you always wanted seconds, or an extra dessert."

luke doesn't repsond right away, knowing y/n had a point.

the boy licks his lips, nervous from what he's about to tell y/n.

"do you ever wonder why i might've been more protective of you over the other campers? when you first joined hermes cabin?" luke asks, catching y/n off guard.

y/n shakes her head, "no, i never really thought about it before."

luke takes a deep breath, "you seemed more special to me."

y/n's eyebrows furrowed, only making luke continue.

"you just seemed so different from the other campers i've met. special. i just had to protect you. i still feel like i have to."

"luke, i don't get what you're trying to say," y/n admits. luke's confession is only making her confused.

"then i don't have to say it," luke's voice is soft.

y/n's confusion returns, but only for mere seconds before she feels luke's lips on hers. she pulls away from the him, out of shock at what he had just done.

his eyes instantly met hers. his filled with worry as if he messed everything up the two had between them.

before luke could start to overthink everything, y/n leaned up to kiss him. his eyes closed, and his hand went to both sides of her face.

y/n's lips tasted like sugar, with a hint of salt. luke guessed it was from tasting her cookies to get them as perfect as she can for percy's birthday.

luke's lips tasted like a campfire. y/n could only assume it was from the smores hermes cabin had after winning capture the flag that day.

y/n's hands were still blue, and in order to not stain luke or his clothing, she opted to wrap her arms around his shoulders. she felt luke's hands on her waist, only pulling her closer to him.

soon enough luke's tongue pushed through y/n's lips, which caused her to giggle. luke loved her reaction.

before anything could get more heated, a timer goes off in the small kitchen. the loud shrill made luke and y/n stop their movements. y/n only looked at luke sheepishly. the girl leaned in once more and pecked the boy's lips, before retrieving the cookies out of the oven.

"do you want any help?" luke asks, watching y/n again as she started rolling out more balls of cookie dough.

she nods, "if you don't mind your hands getting blue."

luke laughs, "i'm willing to take that chance."

#shelbi writes #luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan pjo show #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackson series #percy jackson show #pjo show #pjo tv show #pjo tv series

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octopiys · 2 months ago

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what happens if honey (reader) is home alone and theres a break in? or she's in any danger and Simon's not there haha hypothetically what happens 👁👁

ohhhh anon I love what you're thinking here

Lost and Found

Cw: panic attack, violence, blood, death (but its deserved) [not proofread]

Simon goes out of town for his job. He was lucky, he said, too have as much time off for that long while as he did.

He'd only be gone a few days.

Yeah, a few days, you can do that, right? Easy.

You had a ton of leftovers and still more food in the fridge. You should have enough dog food to keep the bowls full outside, and you can still go out in the yard.

You're not on house arrest while he's gone. You can still do whatever you want.

So for the first hour, you sat on the couch, staring at nothing while the duck slept in the box, and Scraggle settles right in your lap, yapping.

What could you do while he was gone? You were overwhelmed with possibility. What couldn't you do?

You missed him. Tears pricked your eyes, stung the waterline, you missed him.

So you do what you're good at, and cook about it.

Kinder to bury your sorrows in the stove than in the ground. What can you make?

There's fish in the freezer. You're not sure what kind it is, but it's only labeled with "price."

What the price is, you're not sure. But Simon would've told you if there was something you couldn't use, right? Maybe it's an expensive fish. Bagged in vacuum seal plastic..... yeah, it probably won't be missed.

You're frying tonight. You've got bread crumbs and oil, and a spare lemon from the fruit bowl. The sun is setting, and the first piece comes off as a test.

You try some of it, hissing at how hot it was, before making direct eye contact with Scraggle, who suddenly seems like it's never been fed in its life. You roll your eyes and slide some to the cat with a quiet warning of "It's hot!"

The cat paws at the piece of fish, before launching in a perfect vertical off the counter, yowling it's head off. It leaps off the counter, does a lap around the room, knocks a few sheets off the printer, launches back onto the counter– you can't help but watch, there was no way to stop it– takes the fish in it's mouth, and darts outside.

You stand in the kitchen, alone and in disbelief.

You look around, as if Simon could've seen that whole fiasco, before laughing softly to yourself.

(Those cameras prove interesting videos when there's a lull in the mission, or there's quiet time in the safehouse. He'll wait for you to tell him about it first. The cameras won't be mentioned.)

The fish and potatoes come off the stove, and you make yourself a plate. You set it at the table, before going to put a record on.

Simon had forgotten he had those. They were stowed away in the garage, with a bunch of old boxes that he still couldn't bare to look through yet.

He hears some old tunes playing from inside of the house, and freezes, memories jolting back to stun him.

He's stumbled into the house, using the walls to push him along, feeling weak in the legs and soft in the head, spinning out of control, until he sees you humming along in the kitchen, the soft sway of your hips to the tunes of an old song he can't remember the name of. You're tasting cookie dough from a spoon, lost in the bliss of it all. At peace. Safe.

He swallows roughly, a sting at his eyes unfamiliar, the tightness in his chest suffocating.

For the first time in years, he thinks the words: I miss my mom.

You hadn't noticed him enter then, those weeks ago, nor had you heard him leave. You sway your hips, moving rhythmically to the instrumental soundtrack as you made your way over to the table.

You were sure Barrow was asleep somewhere, and the smaller mutt with her (inseparable, they were), and Scraggle was off somewhere, recovering from its zoomies. Just you and the music to dinner, then.

By the time your dinner had finished, the dogs were out for the night. The bowls were full, and new blankets were layed out.

You decide to take a bath tonight. Simon said you could use his bathroom, and you wanted to maybe try and take full advantage of it.

When was the last time you had a proper bath? You didn't have any salts, but that's okay. There were a few candles in the cabinet in the kitchen, and your bodywash would bubble up the hot water enough.

You hum softly to yourself as you slip out of your clothes and into the warm water with a sigh. Relaxation slips into your being as the water spills over every inch of you, your hair not touching the water. Your book, the old copy of the Hobbit, finds it's way into your hands as you pick up where you left off. The music is still playing down the hall.

The pony is in the river– something breaks outside. Scraggle must've gotten on your plate, silly you for leaving it out.

The brothers go after the pony, ladden with supplies, but Kili-

The music ends abruptly.

You freeze, hairs on your arms standing straight up. Your stomach flips with sudden anxiety, despite virtually nothing happening.

Obviously, Scraggle must've unplugged the cord after hopping off the table where your plate was. Yeah, that was it.

–pony, ladden with sup–

Ice floods your veins at the realization. You were supposed to be alone in the house. Scraggle hadn't come back inside before you locked the back door.

You cover your mouth to stifle a gasp, scrambling out of the tub as quiet, and urgently, as you could. You slip back into whatever you were wearing before, it didn't matter if it had been dirty or not.

Did Simon keep weapons in the house? There were steak knives in the kitchen. The main phone line was in there, too.

Simon had an emergency phone in his night stand.

Something smashes and you jolt, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you move to peek around the lower corner of the bathroom door.

Shadows dance along the wall and your heart skips a few beats, dancing in your throat.

Had he come to find you?

N- no, you were safe here. Simon told you, he promised you were- what was the emergency dial for this region? You didn't know, could it change? You had to find the phone, and something to defend yourself with.

You held your breath, skin damp, still practically half naked, before darting across the room to the nightstand, and pulling it open soundlessly.

Inside were a few cords, a notepad, moisturizer, and a flip phone.

Of course it was a flip phone.

You open up the contacts tab, cringing at each small beep made by the keypad, tucked in the gap between Simon's large bed and the wall.

>JP

>JM

>KG

>Work

What do you choose? Who were these contacts?

You hear someone laugh, and tears spill down your cheeks. You can't go back, you can't, he couldn't find you this soon.

The phone is dialing. You don't remember which one you picked.

It answers on the second ring. No one speaks.

"...s- simon-" Your voice wobbles out, just below a whisper. Something else breaks, and a quiet sob leaves your mouth.

"Honey? Why're you-"

Relief breaks across you at the familiar gruffness of Simon's voice. Thank God he picked up.

"Someone- someone's in the house- two people- I d- don't know what-" You stumble over your words quickly, trying to tell him everything all at once. You can't breathe. "Need- your help, please-"

"Someone's in the house?" You can hear him stand. There's a bite in his voice, like the edge of a dagger, or the cold of a glacier, immobile. "Where are you?"

"Y- Yes, Simon, please-" You hiccup, stifling another sob with a hand over your mouth. You tell him you're in between his bed and the wall.

"There's a lockbox under the bed. Can you see it?" He asks you.

You scoot a bit, and peer under the bed. It's practically spotless, the gap between the bed and the floor just large enough to squeeze in if someone needed to get under there. You locate the box.

It's on the other side, closest to the door.

"I- I see it-" You whisper.

"Get in there. There's a code-"

You'd have to put yourself between the box and the door in order to open it. They were just down the hall, how they hadn't made their way back here yet, you didn't know. Then they'd catch you, they'd catch you for sure if you left your spot right here, and drag you all the way back- they'd push you through the fields, and the miles of woods, oh god, they'd make you go back to him. They'd make you go back to-

"Honey-"

You're hyperventilating, thinking yourself into a hole. There's no way that you could see yourself getting out of here in the way you want.

"Honey!"

You snap back into it. Lockbox.

"S- Sorry- I can reach it, let me just-" You take a deep breath to steady yourself, and push yourself under the bed. You reach, and can't touch it, so you dig harder, push yourself a little more until your fingertips graze the cold metal of the box, and you tug it towards your, curling in on yourself to open the box.

You punch in the code, open the box, and–

A hand wraps around your ankle and yanks with a sick pop, pulling you out from under the bed. You scream, your phone clattering into the box. You see it close, watching in horror as the bed disappears from above you, your shoulder catching on the underside of the bed on the way out.

You immediately turn, fight or flight kicking in, and lash out, screaming. Your fingers dig into the man's throat, you can't see, before his arm rears back and strikes you across the face.

You don't remember hitting the floor.

You come to, the coarseness of the carpet scratching your back, rugburn. You twitch, blinking the bleariness out of your eyes before writhing, you're being dragged by your legs. You kick out, screaming, turning to grab the walls, or nearest piece of furniture. A book on the ground, you launch it at the head of the man, covered in a ski mask.

He yelps out, dropping you, and you scramble to your feet, head spinning, before you launch yourself back down the hallway.

There's a man in your house.

You find another man in Simon's room. He's got the box open at his feet.

You lunge at him, screaming, your mind blank with fear, or rage or- well, there are men in your house. They want to hurt you.

Who would care for your animals if you were gone?

You don't know how, but the gun is in your hands.

There's blood, and there's a lot of it, and you can't tell how much of it is yours.

There is a man, in your house.

You rise shakily to your feet, heart thudding in your ears. You turn to the doorway of Simon's room.

You make your way out of the room, a heavy limp to your step, your hips ache in the curve of your legs, a dull pain muted by adrenaline.

No one. No one will hurt your animals. No one will hurt your house.

Lucky for you, the man meets you halfway. His nose is bleeding, and you raise your gun at him.

He stops, leaning against the wall as he smiles, the blood from his nose staining his teeth.

"Cmon, Baby, you don' know what yer doin'... Jus' drop the gun. I'll help you out, Baby, cmon Baby, jus-" He coos at you, like you're helpless.

There's a yowl, and a flash of cat, and Scraggle appears from almost nowhere, sinking it's toothy mouth into the man's ankle. He shouts out, hopping up onto one foot, flinging his other wildly. Scraggle shoots up into the air, before landing on its feet, hissing erratically.

The man starts forward towards your cat.

"Why you little-"

There's another flash.

You sink to the ground, your head in a pounding agony. You can't hear anything past the ringing in your ears, the loud screech leftover by a fired gunshot in close quarters. You can't hear, can't breathe.

You're bleeding, somewhere, you don't know if you can find out the source.

Scraggle curled up in your lap, purring and licking at your hand.

Did you see, mother. Did you see how good Scraggle has done. Defended the home front, all alone, no help at all, did you see how good Scraggle has done? Praise it, praise it mother, feed it extra tonight, Scraggle deserves it, bested the beasts by itself, it did-

Your eyes drag over to the body of the man in the hall, and you do nothing about it. A kind of satisfaction fills you, like sweet rot, mossy mildew in your chest. Your hand rests on Scraggle, who was completely unharmed.

There's a slight smile on your face as the medicine kicks in, and you nestle in closer to Simon. The questions will come later, sleep is now. No one hurts your animals.

You blink, and someone's crouching in front of you, cradling your head in his hands. You hum, tired enough to not bother opening your eyes. He opens them for you, shining a bright light, and you flinch back with a whine.

He's pressing his forehead to yours the second the light disappears, mumbling something you still can't hear.

You mouth his name, or say it, you can't tell, and lean into the warmth that is Simon. Your face is wet with fresh tears, and everything hurts, fix it Simon, please-

He pulls you into his arms, Scraggle brushing up against you, purring. You can't hear it, but you can feel the vibrations of your favorite little critter, trying to do it's best to help heal you.

You're carried to your room and sat in your bed, Simon wrapping your shoulder in bandages– when did he get those?– and looking at your ankle. You're sleepy, you lean against him, seeking warmth body heat and comfort. He wraps his arms around you, and you fall under, your eyes drifting shut as you start to snooze against him.

You didn't seem to make the connection that there was more than one person helping him out, no matter how they got there so quickly.

John sticks his head into the room as you fall asleep, spotting Gaz on the floor trying to set your ankle, and Simon behind you, holding your sleeping form.

"She alright?"

"Yeah, sir. Just a bit roughed up. Where's Soap?" Simon rumbles, voice noticeably quieter.

Scraggle jumps up on the bed, nesting between you both. Blessings and healing to mother, blessing to father-

"Takin' out the trash." John responds. "Mind if we crash here for the night, once we get it all cleaned up?"

"Not in the least. There's pasta in the fridge, Cap'n."

And no one calls you Baby.

masterlist

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #modern warfare 2 #captain john price #alejandro vargas #alerudy #kyle 'gaz' garrick #kyle gaz garrick #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #john price

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ms-demeanor · 11 months ago

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Oh hey speaking of how corn is in fucking everything i made cookies yesterday and some of them were for a person with many food allergies who IS NOT allergic to peanuts or eggs so I found the two-ingredient (salt, peanuts) peanut butter at trader joes and then I made 3-ingredient peanut butter cookies and they rule.

You need:

1 cup of peanut butter

1 cup of sugar

1 large egg

I did use my stand mixer for this and it was my first time using my stand mixer for cookie dough and NOW i understand why people who hardly ever bake but who DO bake cookies three times a year love these things holy shit. That was much, much, much easier than stirring by hand for such a stiff dough, which is my usual go-to for cookies.

Anyway, however you're mixing them, beat ingredients together until smooth, roll into 1-inch balls and place on parchment paper on a cookie sheet, press down in a criss-cross pattern with a fork and bake at 350 for about 9-11 minutes, depending on how crispy you like your cookies.

Since I've got food allergies I find it really frustrating when recipes are like "Three ingredients!" and then call for, like, Nutella. Because Nutella is many ingredients. But this is a for-real 3-ingredient recipe, you can even use unsalted peanut butter but I think it's better with salt, making it technically a 4-ingredient recipe but that is NOT BAD for a baked good.

There are peanut butter cookie recipes out there that have flour and vanilla extract and stuff like that, and those recipes can be really good! But this is the easiest cookie recipe.

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raspberrybesitos · 11 months ago

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frosted cookies | husband!frankie morales x wife!reader

Main masterlist

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~4.4k

Summary: You pack away an extra treat in your husband’s lunch. What happens when Frankie sees you’ve packed more than just some cookies? Cookies won’t be the only thing that’s frosted when he has his way with you.

Warnings: unprotected PIV (wrap it up y’all!!), oral (f receiving), fingering, doggy style, missionary, praise kink, three (3) spanks, cum eating, teeniest bit of soft dom!Frankie, sickening fluff, after care, pet names (querida, hermosa, baby, etc), husband!Frankie being so in love and down bad for his wife, reader speaks some Spanish, reader is female, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N, some Spanish translations throughout.

A/N: can be read as part of the “just married” universe or a stand alone. did y’all think i forgot about a 500 follower treat?! hehehe i would never!! i’m back with a lil slice of domestic holiday bliss and smut with our guy, our husband! i’m just so down bad for Frankie, like there’s really no explaining myself. he’s everything. i want him so bad.🧎‍♀️anyway, happy Frankie friday everybody! hope y’all enjoy 🫶🏼 not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. 🏃‍♀️

Divider by @saradika

“Jesus, querida. How many cookies are you gonna bake?” Frankie asks before popping one into his mouth. “Francisco! Ya basta! (Enough) Those are for tomorrow!” You yell, smacking your husband’s hand away from getting anymore cookies.

After tomorrow, you and Frankie are off for 10 days. The stress and anticipation of the festivities and just spending uninterrupted time together energizes you to work rapidly. You’ve been baking all day for your office’s Christmas party, whipping up an array of cookies and packaging them up to give out to your coworkers.

Flour, powdered sugar, and icing bags are scattered throughout the counter. A bowl of icing sitting in the middle of the island and cookie cutters next to 3 trays of cookies. Powdered sugar coats your hands and icing splattered across your apron.

“Lo siento, bebita, (I'm sorry, baby girl)” he says through a muffled mouthful of cookie, rubbing circles on your lower back while he peppers kisses to your shoulder.

“I have to make sure there’s enough for everyone. 50 is good right? The whole office will be there, and I don’t want anyone to feel left out,” you ramble as you roll out the last batch of dough in between parchment paper. Frankie rubs up and down your arms as you cut them into shapes.

“50 is plenty, baby. You work too hard, mi amor. Is this the last batch?”

“Yeah, I’ll finally be done after this one comes out the oven,” you say as you place them onto the cookie sheet.

“Good. You need to rest, and I wanna have my wife to myself.” You turn around in his embrace and wrap your arms around his neck. “You sure no one will feel left out?”

A small gentle smile splays on his lips as he readjusts his grip on your hips. “No one will feel left out, baby. I promise. And if they do, then fuck ‘em. They don’t know how hard you work, or how kind you truly are,” he softly says. A relieved smile creeps onto your face as a toothy grin appears on his. He places a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips, you getting lost in him as the taste of him mixes with the sugary cookie he’d just eaten. Both of you sighing into one another, never getting enough of each other.

The oven timer dings, startling the both of you and breaking the kiss as you jump back a bit. The two of you giggling like a pair of children, Frankie places one last chaste kiss to your lips as you head to the oven. Feeling a playful swat to your ass, you turn around and playfully scold your husband as you remove the cookies out of the oven - the aroma of sugar and spice filling the air.

“How long’s this last batch gonna take, mi vida?” Frankie asks as you place the final batch of cookies in the oven. ��Only 15 minutes, mi amor. Tener paciencia (have patience),” you say through a fit of giggles, laughing at your husband’s impatience. He scoffs, rolling his eyes as you stride towards him. Pulling him in for another kiss, his hands freely roam down to your ass, giving it a playful squeeze. Laughing into him, you pull away as you bark out a belly laugh, your husband mirroring you.

“Could you help me clean up, please baby? The faster we clean, the faster I’m all yours,” you taunt. “Of course, mi vida, you don’t even have to ask. Although, the incentive is nice,” he says with a smirk. The two of you swiftly maneuver throughout the kitchen while the cookies bake. Frankie clearing the counter as you wipe it down, and washing and drying dishes together - working in tandem to tidy up your kitchen. The oven timer dings once more, Frankie washing and drying the remaining dishes as you remove the last batch and set them on the cooling rack. As you remove your oven mitts, Frankie tosses the dish rag onto the counter and swoops behind you, engulfing you in his broad, taut arms while he litters kisses along your neck.

“All done, mi amor?” He asks against your skin, his mustache tickling you along with his eagerness, eliciting a laugh from you. “All done, mi amor,” you laugh, wrapping your arm around his neck to twirl the curls at the nape of his neck. “Vamos, mi esposa,” he says, whisking you away and up the stairs.

Laughter bubbling over the two of you as you rush up the stairs.

After tomorrow, it’s 10 days of this - uninterrupted bliss with each other.

Frankie plops down on the chair, groaning as time ticks by agonizingly slow. He runs a hand over his face, his wedding ring making contact with his cheek reminds him of you - just 4 more hours until he’s home with you.

Cracking open his lunchbox, he smiles as he spots the usual yellow sticky note that you pack in his lunch which lay atop some of the freshly baked cookies that you made last night. Picking it up, he reads the note:

“Enjoy your lunch, mi esposo hermoso. Can’t wait for you to frost my cookie when you get home ;)

-Con amor, su esposa”

Beneath it, a polaroid of you dressed in a crimson red babydoll with white fur lining the bust. It leaves little to the imagination as you display your breasts to the camera, a coy smile on your lips as white frosting runs down your lips and onto your chin, teasingly biting into one of the cookies you baked.

His breath hitches in his throat, eyes widening as he takes in your form. He’s hard as a fucking rock, his lunch now completely forgotten.

“‘S matter, boss? Wife forget to pack your juice or something?” A stupid rookie asks, laughing too hard at his own joke as he creeps up behind Frankie to catch a glimpse inside his lunchbox. Frankie immediately drops the polaroid back inside and flips the lid closed before the rookie can see it.

“Shut the hell up, Daniel,” Frankie grumbles as he rises to his feet, stomping out of the break room and into his tiny, cluttered office. He typically eats lunch here, wanting to get away from the fumes that permeate the shop, but the anticipation of your time off together made him antsy - seeking out a place without constant reminders of you as the day drags on.

That did absolutely nothing. Your boudoir polaroid having made his day better and worse simultaneously. You looked nothing short of a dream, but now his impatience is getting the better of him as his mind wanders to all the things he plans to do to you tonight. He groans, his cock still half hard as he unravels his lunch. He huffs sticking the polaroid in his wallet, aggressively nibbling at his lunch.

Could this day go by any slower?

He opens the door, tossing his keys into the bowl as he shuts and locks it. Trudging inside, he toes off his boots, pushing them to the side as he takes in your fully decorated home. His heart swells at the sight, knowing you were off work early today after your office party. Meaning you probably spent the entire afternoon decorating.

Garlands adorn every wall, the tree now fully decorated and the Christmas village sits atop the mantle. Twinkling lights warmly illuminate the room. The sprig of mistletoe hangs above the entryway to the kitchen, the smell of dinner and more baked goods permeating through the air mingling with the fresh pine scent of the tree.

You’ve gone full Christmas-mode and he can’t get enough of your domesticity - your ability to make every single thing you touch feel like home.

“Frankie?!” You yell faintly from the kitchen.

“Hermosa, I’m home!” He shouts as he shrugs off his brown utility jacket. Footsteps bound from the kitchen and into the hall. There you stand, in all your domestic glory with your apron around your front and a bit of flour on your cheek.

You beam at him, happy your husband is finally home for the week. Your office is closed and so is the shop for the following week and then some for the holiday, now you have him all to yourself for the next 10 days. Practically flinging yourself into his arms, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a searing kiss. He laughs at your eagerness, his cock twitching in his pants as you tug him closer by his soft curls, deepening the kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, a soft moan escaping you and into Frankie.

It’s unclear who breaks the kiss first, but the both of you are heaving, panting for air. The smile returning to your face, a smug look appearing on your husband’s face.

“Hi, baby. I missed you.” Your hands snake up his chest and you remove his cap from his head, setting it on the table by the door, carding your fingers through his hair. His smile softens, eyes gleaming with love. “Hi, mi amor. I missed you too. I see you got up to some stuff while I was gone,” he says, swirling circles on your lower back. You giggle, knowing you can be a bit elaborate when it comes to decorating.

“‘S not too much?” You ask. He quickly shakes his head. “Never, mi amor,” he nearly whispers, reassuring you before capturing your lips in another kiss. Walking you backwards into the kitchen, he presses you up against the kitchen counter, catching a whiff of something baking in the oven again.

He pulls back, forehead resting against yours as he swipes away the flour that’s smudged on your cheek. “You’re still baking, mi vida? I thought you were finished,” he asks. “I am, but I wanted to make you something, a treat to celebrate our vacation,” you ramble. A chuckle rumbles in his sturdy chest.

“Got the most delicious treat right here,” he tsks, you chuckle rolling your eyes at his cheesiness as butterflies erupt in your belly. His hardening length presses against your core as he dives in to litter your neck with kisses. “Even got a picture to prove it,” he rasps against you. A small gasp escapes you.

So he did see the picture.

“Oh really? Can I see this picture, amor?” Your voice breathy and titillating, feigning oblivion as a smirk plastered on your face while he sucks on your neck.

“I’m sure you know what it looks like. In fact, you’re gonna let me recreate it with the real thing, baby.” His voice low and husky now as his clothed, hard cock ruts into you.

A wave of arousal pools in your panties. “I am?” You breathlessly ask, still keeping up the innocent act.

“Mhmm. Gonna be covered in me. Isn’t that what you wanted, princesa? Huh? You couldn’t wait for me to get home and frost your cookie, hermosa?” He asks as his lips ghost over yours now, emphasizing the reference to the note you’d put in his lunchbox this morning. You snort, eyes shutting as heat courses through your veins as he quotes the note, and warmth blooming in your belly.

A light smack to your thigh reels you back in, eyes flying open. His eyes filled with lust, pupils darkening. Your eyes glossy and hazy, feeling tipsy just off his embrace, his words.

“Y-yes, Frankie. ‘S what I wanted - want. Want you s-so bad, mi amor,” you mumble against his ear as he resumes peppering kisses along your chest. Humming against you, your words going straight to his cock, which you feel as he presses into your core a bit harder.

“Want you so bad, too, princesa. Been wanting you all day. Y’know how hard it was to keep it together seeing that picture of you? Look so fucking sexy, fuck. Had to stop myself from cumming in my jeans like a fucking teenager,” he mutters into your ear. You giggle, taking great joy in knowing your husband wants you just as bad as you do, maybe even more.

He bites down on your earlobe, your giggles quickly dissipating into a moan. “But what you did today was so bad, mi vida. Distracted me all fucking day from work, could barely concentrate. I think you just made it on the naughty list. What do you think, baby? Are you naughty or nice?”

“N-nice. Nice, baby,” you whimper as Frankie unties your apron and smoothly tosses it on the counter.

“Mmmm, you sure about that? You gonna be a nice, good girl for me and let me have my way with you?” You furiously nod, your neediness growing into an impatient monster.

He laughs at your eagerness, relishing in how needy you are for him. “Come on, princesa. Show me how good you are,” he rasps before releasing you from his grasp, grabbing your hand as you two stumble out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Excitement stirring within you as he leads you to your room.

Frankie flings the door open, eagerly bringing you into his embrace again. He cups your cheeks, leaning in as his lips engulf yours in a messy, heated kiss. It’s all tongue as teeth gnash together, moans flying out from both of you while you strip each other down. Frankie groans as he discards your bra onto the floor. You can’t help the moan that escapes you as you shuck off your husband’s briefs, his hard cock springing free, weeping and red.

“On the bed, hermosa,” he demands, his timbre husky and low. You scramble onto the bed, laying on your back, displaying yourself for your husband. “Spread your legs.”

Your brain on autopilot, operating as if Frankie has a remote to control your actions.

Legs spread, the cool air of the room hits your sopping core, a shiver running down your spine. Frankie licks his lips, pupils blown black and wide swirling with lust. He stalks towards you, laying down and settling himself in front of your aching pussy. He grabs your thighs, placing them on either side of his head. The frigidity of his wedding band burning into your skin, contrasting the blaze that burns from within you as you anticipate your husband’s next move.

You pant as the excitement transforms into a forest fire within your core, Frankie so close to where you desperately need him. He presses firm kisses to your thighs, your breath catching in your throat again. Kissing and nipping at your thighs, your neediness causes your hips to involuntarily buck into Frankie - his nose catching on your clit for a split second. A shocking loud moan escapes you as Frankie pushes you back down on the bed.

“Just like you told me last night, mi vida. And like how I had to tell myself after what you pulled this afternoon: tener paciencia,” he practically growls against your thighs. You whine as his teasing resumes. You know this is payback for the polaroid, making him wait all day for some relief. Your husband is the most patient man you know, even when he wants nothing more than to take you any chance he can get.

His desire for you though, constantly burning, so you know this must be killing him too. However, the sweet revenge of seeing you fall apart and writhe under him, begging him to do something is the most delicious reward.

“Frankie,” you desperately sigh, eyes closing as he presses kisses to your mound. “When have I ever not given you what you wanted? Hmm, baby?” He asks against your core, your eyes opening and to lock with his gaze. “Never, mi amor,” you nearly whisper, it comes out much more rushed than intended.

“Tranquila, mi vida. I’m gonna take care of you and this pretty pussy. I got you, baby,” he says with one last kiss to your thigh. Without preamble, he licks a long, languid stripe up your folds. A relieved moan tumbling from your lips as you bury your head further into the pillow. He repetitiously licks up your glistening core, your clit throbbing for some attention. Your husband knows your body like the back of his hand, as if he can read your mind.

He flicks your precious pearl with a steady rhythm, wrapping his lips around it. You twitch underneath him, eyes heavy and glazed.

“Oh fuck, Frankie!” You keen as your hands fly to tug on his hair, his rhythmic, skilled tongue bringing you closer to the edge. Your weeping cunt clenches around nothing as a wave of slick seeps from your hole. He snakes a hand up to cup your breast, flicking and suckling your clit as he rolls your nipple in between his thick, calloused fingers, alternating breasts. Your breathing is ragged as you moan, Frankie groaning and humming into you. The vibrations rumbling from within him launching you higher into your climax, teetering on lift off.

“Feels s-so f-fucking good, Frankie. Always s-so fucking g-good,” you babble. He pulls away for a second, his chin coated in your slick. “Come on, baby. Know you’re close. Let go, hermosa,” he rasps right above your swollen cunt. He dives back in, moving his hand from your breast to your entrance, two fingers sliding home with the amount of slick pouring from you.

A sharp gasp escapes you, eyes rolling back at the welcomed intrusion as Frankie rapidly and steadily alternates between sucking and flicking your clit. His fingers hitting that spongy spot only his fingers and cock can reach. The coil in your belly snaps as you’re launched into your orgasm, stars appearing behind your eyes as your vision blurs white hot.

Frankie helps you ride out your high as you scream and writhe beneath him, lapping up every last drop of slick gushing from your throbbing pussy. Desperately trying not to rut his hips into the mattress, he groans at the sweet, tangy taste of you that he can never get enough of. Your thighs tremble as you slowly return back to Earth, whimpering as Frankie presses soft kisses to your thighs.

“Did so good for me, baby. Always so fucking good for me,” he hushes you, peppering kisses up your body.

You fight to keep your eyes open, catching sight of your husband soaked in your release as his mustache and patchy beard gleams in the warm glow of the bedroom.

Pulling him down, you connect your lips with his, both of you moaning into one another. Wrapping your arms around his broad, strong shoulders as you tug on his curls. His mouth licking into yours, letting you taste your sweet slick on your tongue. Sweet and heady, the kiss melds into something sinful as you feel Frankie’s hard, leaking cock rubs right above your core. Precum smearing on your belly, Frankie pulls back and moans at the friction.

“Not done with you yet, querida,” he says gruffly as he lifts himself off you. “Turn around,” he demands. You recognize that tone: he’s gonna have his way with you tonight. A shiver runs down your spine as a new rush of arousal burns brightly in your core. You swiftly lay on your stomach.

“On your knees, baby.” His voice husky and firm. You readjust yourself and settle on your knees, balancing yourself on your forearms. Feeling the mattress dip behind you, another spark of arousal jolts in your pussy, your belly warm and full of anticipation. You can hear Frankie pumping himself in his fist as he lines his hips up with yours.

“See, you can be a good girl. Knew you could do it, mi vida.” You moan at his praise. His large hands caress your ass, engulfing your cheeks in each hand, admiring the view. You teasingly wiggle your ass, Frankie-drunk giggles bubbling over your lips and spilling into the pillow. A smack comes down on your ass, the sting of it making your pussy throb. Moaning as you turn your head to the side, locking eyes with Frankie.

His chocolate irises invisible, eyes completely darkened and filled to the brim with lust.

“Don’t start.” You nod, drool pooling under your mouth, your patience wearing thin. “Be good, baby,” he rasps as he lines his cock up with your entrance. His tip prodding your aching hole, as one of his hands rests on your ass. He slowly slides in, taking his time bottoming out. Both of you moaning in tandem as his cock splits you open, the sting blurring the lines of pain and pleasure. You squeeze around him as he fully sheathes himself inside you, never fully getting used to his size despite being married to him now.

“Alright, baby. Alright, baby,” He hisses, roughly kneading your ass. “Come on now. Relax, baby. I got you,” he calmly whispers. You feel yourself relax, unclenching and releasing him from your vice grip. “There we go. Good girl,” he says as he leans down to press a kiss behind the shell of your ear.

He slowly slides out from you, nearly pulling out all the way until he slams his hips back into yours. His cock punching your cervix.

“Frankie!” You gasp, moaning as you grip the sheets. He repeats the motion, grunting as he cants his hips. “Tightest, sweetest fucking pussy ever. Fuck, always feel so fucking good, baby. You were made for me, made to take my cock. Huh, querida?” He asks, breathing ragged as he fucks in and out of you. You nod and moan in agreement, words escaping you as he brings you close to your second orgasm. It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to slowly creep up on you, still reeling from the sensitivity of your previous one.

Another smack hits your ass, clenching around him in your tight heat. You love when Frankie gets a bit rough with you.

“Words, querida. Come on, you were doing so good,” he taunts. You swallow through your moans, unaware of the desperate tears of pleasure that were pooling in your eyes.

“Y-yes, baby. Made for you, made for your cock. S-so fucking good to me, Frankie. L-luckiest girl in the w-world,” you babble. You feel him twitch inside you before he pulls out.

Whining at the loss of your husband’s cock, you’re suddenly being flipped on your back. Before you can give what’s happening a second thought, Frankie slides back into you. Your calves pressed against his strong chest, your ankles resting atop his taut shoulders as he bends you in half. His pace rapidly picking up, his thrusts growing sloppy.

“‘S right, baby. Made for me. I’m the luckiest man in the world, querida. Won the wife lottery,” he rasps lowly, pressing a kiss to your calf.

The love you have for this man is overwhelming. His existence constantly gracing your mind, his unwavering support, his unconditional love, never feeling like you’re not enough for him, his kindness, his patience, how gentle he is with you even when he’s roughing you up.

“Eres la esposa más hermosa y perfecta del mundo. (You're the most beautiful and perfect wife in the world) So lucky to call you my wife, baby,” he grunts, punctuating each word with his thrusts. His sweet words toss you over the edge, fat tears of euphoria and love cascade down your cheeks as you scream his name.

An endless stream of slick seeps from your cunt, coating Frankie in your release. The squelching sound filling the air mixed with pants and moans is sinful, obscene.

“Fuck yes, baby. Give it to me, all of it. Soak my cock, querida. So fucking good - you, this pussy, our life, fuck yes,” he babbles. You mindlessly move your legs from his hold to wrap around his middle, bringing him in closer as you ride out your high.

“Love you so much, Frankie. Best husband in the world, come on, mi amor. Cum for me, need your cum,” you whine, giving him one last good squeeze. Frankie fills you up with half his load before pulling out and coating your mound in his cum. Endless moans streaming from you both. Frankie cums for a long time.

The picture really did a number on him.

Ropes of his spend coats your sex and your belly. Unable to control yourself, you reach down and swipe two fingers through his cum and lick them clean. Relishing the delicious, salty taste of your husband. Frankie groans as he sees you suck your fingers clean, gathering cum on his fingers and stuffing it back into your cunt. You moan around your fingers at the feeling of his thick, long fingers stuffing you full of his cum.

Releasing your fingers with a pop, Frankie pounces on you - his fingers brushing against your lips, prying your mouth open. You suck them into your mouth, an animalistic groan rumbling from within you as you taste the combination of you two. He removes his fingers, adjusting himself to pin you down, caging you in between his large biceps.

He dives in for a kiss, it’s slower - savoring the taste of you and him on your tongue as he soaks in the love which radiates off your body and into his soul. “Love you so much, mi vida. Para siempre (Always),” he whispers against your lips. You cup his cheeks, a soft smile on your lips as your eyes glimmer with contentment and love.

“Para siempre,” you repeat. Another firm, lingering kiss is pressed to your lips before he rises to his feet, padding to your shared bathroom. The faucet turns on, your usual routine of aftercare beginning. Frankie returns with the warm rag, gently cleaning you up.

“Frosted your cookie pretty good, huh?” He asks with a smirk on his lips, curls in disarray.

You bark out a belly laugh, unable to control your laughter at your husband’s stupid joke.

“Francisco!” You squeal. Frankie tsks and rolls his eyes. “Oh after all the shit we just did, that’s where you draw the line?!” He playfully asks, a toothy grin on his face.

“No, I just thought you forgot about that stupid note!” You say through your laughter, Frankie bursting into a fit of giggles with you. “Wasn’t stupid, and how could I ever forget that and that picture?” He asks as he continues to clean you up.

“Speaking of, I’m not even gonna question when and how you took that picture, but next time, I’m helping you,” he says as he rises up and walks back into the bathroom to discard the rag into the laundry basket. “Whatever you say, mi amor,” you tease from the bed.

He returns, playfully pouncing on the bed beside you. Another fit of giggles erupts from you.

“That’s right, baby. Whatever I say,” he says with a wink and a smile, interlacing your fingers with his - toying with your wedding ring as he places a chaste kiss to your lips before saddling up beside you.

i love husband!Frankie sm 😫😔

wrote this on a bit of a whim, i had no idea what i wanted to do, i just knew i wanted to write a lil christmasy somethin-somethin for y'all 🩷

i hope y'all enjoyed!!! thank you for reading 🫶🏼

tag list: @nostalxgic @sweetercalypso @undrthelights @gracieheartspedro @jenispunk @joelsgreys @bastardmandennis @party-hearses @tinygarbage @mandoisapunk @javierpena-inatacvest @pedgito @tupelomiss @pedrostories @harriedandharassed

#nini’s 500 follower celebration #happy frankie friday #frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fluff #husband!frankie

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whore4abby · 1 year ago

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cookies; dbf!abby anderson

part one part two

warnings; almost smut?? - older!abby (refers to herself as mama once), ass + tit grabbing, tiny mention of nipple play, mdni

wc; 1.2k

a soft knock at the front door startles you out of you thoughts. you glances at the time on your phone, realising it was a little too early for your dad to be home. you set down the bowl you were mixing cookie dough in and walk towards the front door, your curiosity piqued. you instantly recognise the tall figure on the opposite side of the frosted glass and your eyes widen slightly, you freeze for a second before gaining the confidence to actually open the door.

you open the door and abby stands there leaning against the doorway, her broad shoulders almost touching each side of the frame. “hey kid….your dad home…?” she asks, looking past you into the rest of the house, as if looking for movement in the house.

“not yet….” you shake your head, feeling a little awkward as you fidget with your hands, pressing your glossy lips together. you stare at her in awe and after what feels like an eternity, you regain your composure and find the courage to speak. “oh…uhm, you wanna come in…?” you step aside a little and swing the door open further to invite her in.

abby steps over the threshold and into the house, wiping her boots off on the doormat. you practically gawk at her, her huge biceps straining against her t-shirt and making your mouth water and you quickly look away once she makes eye contact. abby smirks to herself, following you into the kitchen.

“you’re making cookies….?” she laughs softly as she notices the mess of a kitchen, utensils strews across the counters and dirty dishes filling the sink. you laugh awkwardly and nod as you pick up the wooden spoon again and finish mixing the cookie dough up. “mhm….baking calms me down i guess….”

she smiles and reaches over to take the spoon from your hand, her calloused fingertips brushing against yours. she maintains eye contact as she lifts it up to your mouth. struggling to keep a straight face as she watches your eyes widen, finding your nervousness a little endearing. “cmon….open up sweetheart~“

abby’s playful teasing seems to have an effect on you as you become hyper-aware of every little movement you make, slowly parting your lips and eating the sweet cookie dough from the spoon, trying hard to stay focused as you watch her gaze drop to your lips.

abby looks down at you in amusement, enjoying this little moment of intimacy that you both seem to be sharing. she lets the spoon fall out of her hand and back onto the countertop, landing with a subtle thud. “you just gonna stand there? those cookies won’t bake themselves…” she looks at you seductively as she speaks in a tone that is both sweet but suggestive. it’s clear that she has something else on her mind.

you snap out of your your momentary trance, your eyes refocus on the glass bowl placed before you, filled with the golden, saccharine mixture. having trouble focusing on the task of shaping the dough, abby notices the look of cluelessness on your face and chuckles lightly before leaning closer to you. “here… let mama do it~”

abby takes the bowl of cookie dough from you. she starts to roll up balls of the cookie dough and places them onto the tray. the contrast between her rough hands and the delicate dough is almost mesmerising. as her wrists flex, you find yourself distracted by the thick, pronounced veins that run up the back of her hands all the way to her elbows. they’re thick and bulging, a sight that almost has you drooling. you can’t help but be in awe of her as your eyes are glued onto her the entire time - it makes you curious as to what else she may be able to do with those hands…

once the whole tray is filled up with the even shaped cookies, abby passes you the baking sheet and stands behind you, placing her hands on your elbows and guiding you to slide the sheet of cookies into the awaiting oven, knowing that soon the sweet smell of homemade goodness will fill the kitchen. “atta girl…~”

once its been placed inside, she shuts the door and reaches over to set the timer for you. abby decides to stop teasing you and she walks over to the table and takes a seat in one of the white wooden chairs, keeping her eye on you the whole time as you start to clean the dirty dishes. her eyes begin to wander down to the curve of your ass as you stretch across the sink to grab the dish soap. the clinking sound of dishes being washed echoes in the room, with the occasional splash of soapy water.

you finish up cleaning the dishes and dry off your hands, feeling a sense of accomplishment as you see the sparkling dishes sat on the drying rack. turning away, you jump slightly as abby had somehow snuck up on you without you realising. “oh…! abs, you scared me….” you giggle breathlessly.

abby chuckles playfully as she spins you around and brings you closer to her by placing her arms around your waist. her strong muscular arms completely encircle you, providing you with a sense of complete infatuation as you look up at her dreamily.

“m’sorry sweet girl…~” abby mutters as she gently brushes your hair back from your face, caressing your soft cheek with her thumb. you freeze as you suddenly realize what's about happen and before you can even react, her hands move to cup your face tenderly as she gives you deep and long kisses, your tongues mixing and exploring each others mouths hungrily. her teeth sink into your bottom lip faintly, causing an involuntary whimper to bubble up from your throat.

abby softly and passionately continues to kiss your lips, her rough hands roaming down to your ass and gripping it firmly. she hoists you up effortlessly and places you on the counter, you shiver as your shorts ride up and the backs of your bare thighs make contact with the cold marble.

“abby….mmm fuck….~” you voice comes out as an airy whisper, tilting your head back as she begins to plant wet kisses across your delicate neck. her muscles flexing as she roughly squeezes at your bra-less tits through your shirt. her thumbs expertly caressing your nipples, the friction from the thin cotton causing them to harden even more as you arch your back and whimper in desperation.

abby softly runs her tongue across your neck. her strong tongue continues to explore every part of your neck and her warm breath against your skin causes you to shiver. “good girl….” abby purrs in your ear, her rough voice making you gasp. her hands slowly start to slide down to your ass and start to rub against the juicy flesh.

just then, the oven timer goes off. abby pulls away, a wicked grin on her face. she straightens back up and moves towards the oven, but not before giving you a rough kiss on the lips, her fingers squishing into your cheeks almost painfully.

and so she leaves you there on the counter, your hair dishevelled and your lips still wet from her passionate kisses. you take a moment to gather yourself, panting and feeling a mixture of confusion, desire, and disbelief….and wondering what the fuck just happened.

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ⋆.ೃ࿔myfics⌨️#tlou abby #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x reader #abby x you #abby x fem!reader #abby the last of us #abby x reader #tlou

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osmanthusoolong · 5 months ago

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I made these yesterday with @baeddlam , and they were really, really good. Pleasantly aromatic, nice chewy texture. My melancholy is not exactly fully cured, but baking with someone I adore, and enjoying the results, certainly helps.

“Ingredients

12 tablespoons butter

3/4 cup brown sugar

1/3 cup raw honey

4 egg yolks

2 1/2 cups spelt flour (you can usually find it in the baking aisle)

1 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon nutmeg

1 tablespoon cinnamon

1 teaspoon cloves

Instructions

Melt the butter, then add it to a medium bowl with the sugar, honey, and egg yolks. Beat gently, then fold in the rest of the ingredients. Refrigerate the dough for an hour.

Flour a surface and then roll out the cookie dough until about a 1/4 inch thick. Cut the dough into small circles using a cookie cutter or an upturned glass.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper, then bake at 375 degrees Fahrenheit for 10 minutes, or until a golden-brown. Let cool, then enjoy.”

#recipe

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m4rv3l-girl · 1 month ago

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Bucky x Y/N

Waiting for cookies to bake is hard, perhaps a distraction is needed…

Requests Open - See Blog!

Warnings: Very light smut (making out + heavy petting)

The kitchen was filled with the warm scent of sugar, flour, and the buttery goodness that promised a sweet delight.

Y/N stood at the counter, apron snug around her waist, a spark of mischief in her eyes as she measured out the ingredients for their cookie batch. Bucky leaned against the doorway, watching her with a warmth in his chest that felt entirely foreign yet intoxicating.

Y/N was completely in her element. She hummed to the music playing softly in the background, her hands deftly mixing the dough, a sprinkle of flour dusting her cheeks as she worked. Bucky couldn’t help but admire her. The way the light fell on her hair, the way her focus enveloped her. It was comforting—the static of life around them fading away, leaving just this moment.

“Need any help?” Bucky called, pushing off the doorframe and stepping further into the kitchen.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder, her lips curling into a smile. “I think I’ve got it, but you can keep me company. Just supervise, you know?”

Bucky chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made her heart flutter. “Supervise? I’m pretty sure I can help.”

“Okay” she declared, and he couldn't help but chuckle again as she struck a playful pose. “I think we could use some muscle to mix this dough.”

“Is that an invitation?” He moved closer, taking a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen island, resting his chin on his hand, feigning a serious expression.

“Absolutely! But be warned, it takes skill to handle this dough.” She winked, playfully tossing a pinch of flour in his direction.

Bucky raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, the dust settling on his face. “Oh, so that's how it is, huh?”

Y/N laughed, the sound bright and carefree. She loved these moments—just the two of them, away from the chaos that constantly buzzed around them. Baking cookies together was an indulgence in sweet simplicity. Their time together was always earnestly shared; whether it was fighting side by side or stealing mundane moments like these that painted the picture of their life together.

As Y/N mixed the dough, she felt Bucky's gaze upon her, heavy-lidded yet affectionate, stirring something warm in the pit of her stomach. The rhythmic sound of the wooden spoon against the bowl was oddly entrancing, and she didn’t even realize how quickly time was escaping them.

“Okay, it’s time to roll them out!” Y/N said after she finished mixing the dough, a look of determination crossing her face.

“Alright, what do you need me to do? Roll with it?” Bucky quipped, laughing at his own awful joke.

She rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the smile pulling at her lips. “You can help me scoop the dough onto the baking sheet. But be gentle—we don’t want them looking like pancakes.”

Bucky feigned indignation, puffing out his chest. “I’m not completely incapable. I have been known to bake, back in the day.”

Y/N shook her head, laughter bubbling forth as they maneuvered through the next stages of the baking process together, each cookie a small testament to their shared energy. Bucky’s fingers brushed against her hands as they worked, a spark igniting each time they came into contact.

With the cookies finally, carefully arranged on the baking sheet, she slid them into the oven, feeling a sense of accomplishment rush over her. The sweet anticipation of baked cookies filled the air.

“Now we wait,” Y/N said, glancing at the timer, set for ten minutes.

Bucky crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter, a playful smirk playing on his lips. “I thought you said we’d only be baking for a little while. Ten minutes is a very long time,”

Y/N turned to him, mischief lighting her blue eyes. “I guess we can find a way to pass the time, then.”

“Oh? What did you have in mind?”

She sauntered closer, letting the warmth of his body envelop her. “Well, you could always help me clean up—there’s flour and sugar everywhere.”

Bucky chuckled, but his playful eyes darkened slightly with desire as he looked down at her, taking in the way her apron hugged her waist.

As she bent over the counter to grab a dishcloth, Bucky felt a primal instinct surge through him, an unconquerable urge to pull her close. It was the predatory look in his eye that caught her off guard—the desperation of their shared solitude overwhelming her senses.

“Y/N,” he said in a low voice, the kind that made her shiver. “You know it’s torture waiting for those to bake.”

Y/N turned, bracing her back against the counter, her heart racing under the sudden intensity of his gaze. “You could always distract yourself… with me.”

Without further invitation, he surged forward, capturing her mouth with his. It was a potent mix of playful sweetness and urgent hunger, as if all the moments they had spent apart were rushing back, igniting the embers of their attraction like a flame.

Y/N melted into him, feeling her body soften under the heat of his kiss. It was as if the weight of the kitchen, the oven timer clicking away, all faded, leaving just the two of them—caught in the thrill of their chemistry. Bucky’s hands cradled her face, fingers tangling in her hair, drawing her closer as if he couldn’t get enough.

Their kiss deepened, breaths mingling, hearts thundering as they pressed together. Bucky’s hands ventured down her sides, settling on her waist, a possessive hold that made her weak at the knees. She took a deep breath, catching the smell of cookies amidst the haze of heat and rush.

“Bucky,” she murmured breathlessly against his lips. “The cookies…”

“Forget the cookies,” he murmured in response, his lips trailing kisses down her neck, his rough stubble grazing her skin. “I want you.”

The urgency of his words sent a thrill through her; she could feel moisture pooling at her center as she surrendered to the mounting tension. The kitchen, once filled with laughter and lighthearted banter, now danced with desire, heat radiating off them like steam.

Y/N tilted her head back, giving him more access, her hands finding purchase on his shoulders as she urged him closer. “But what about—”

“They can burn,” he interrupted, his voice low and raspy, breath ghosting against her skin.

Another thrill coursed through her as Bucky's lips continued their exploration, trailing down her neck to her collarbone, igniting a spark of longing within her. In that moment, the world outside their cozy kitchen faded away; nothing existed but the two of them, tangled together in a dance of warmth and urgency.

Y/N’s breath hitched as his hands moved from her waist to the small of her back, pulling her flush against him, feeling the heat radiate from his body just as much as she felt it pooling within her. “You’re making me crazy,” she whispered, fingers gripping his shirt tighter.

“That’s the plan, Doll” he growled playfully, his lips finding hers again. This kiss was different, more fevered, pulling her deeper into the sweetness of their shared heat. A fire ignited within her, a craving that pierced through the playful nature of their baking session.

Bucky stepped back slightly, lifting her effortlessly onto the counter, the coolness of the marble juxtaposing the warmth of their bodies as he stood between her legs. “I need you to tell me what you want,” he murmured, his breath heavy with need.

There was something commanding in his tone, something that made Y/N’s heart race even faster. She glanced towards the oven, half-tempted to remember the cookies. But the kitchen was their sanctuary—filled now with that heady mix of laughter and heat making everything else fade into the background.

“Bucky, I want…” Words tangled together as she felt his hands slide beneath her apron, fingers drawing patterns along her thighs. “I want you. Now.”

A feral grin crossed his lips at her breathless demand, and Bucky’s hands explored her body with an urgency that made her shiver. He leaned close, kissing a line from her jaw to her collarbone, trailing heat that made her arch against him.

“God, how do you do that?” he breathed against her skin, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, a light sound that hung in the air deliciously before being swallowed up by need.

“Do what?” she teased, knowing full well the effect she had on him.

“Just… be you. Makes it hard to think.”

“Isn’t that part of the fun?” She gave him a cheeky grin, and as he captured her mouth once more, she felt him smile against her lips.

As time slipped away—baking sheets forgotten, oven timer haphazardly ticking, and the scent of burnt sugar hanging in the air—Y/N found herself melting into the moment, surrendering to the feel of his body against hers. The taste of sugar, combined with the warmth of their shared laughter and a hint of spice, filled her senses, enveloping her completely.

Bucky pushed her back slightly on the flour-covered surface, his hands gripping her thighs as he surged forward, deepening the kiss with every second, drowning in the sweet symphony of their bodies entwined. Y/N gasped softly, a sound that went straight to the heart of him, igniting more desire and desperation.

She could feel the heat of him against her, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him close, wanting more of him. As he moved against her, she felt the fluttering warmth of their passion—the weight of the outside world falling away, leaving only this cocoon of shared intimacy.

“Y/N,” he breathed her name like a prayer, and she held on to that sound as if it were her lifeline.

The raw, magnetic pull of their chemistry drove them deeper into the fervid haze washing over them. She could no longer remember the cookies—they were merely a ghostly thought amid the passion igniting her skin. All that mattered was Bucky, the way he made her feel, the sweet surrender they were indulging in.

As their bodies moved together, she felt the warmth of that closeness, the sweet tension weaving them together even further. Y/N couldn’t get enough of him. She needed more, more taste of him, more heat, more belonging.

Still lost in the rhythm of their bodies, the kitchen faded even further away. Each fleeting moment with him heightened her senses, entwining seamlessly with their laughter as they explored the complexities of each other.

Finally breaking apart, breathless and flushed, they looked at each other. Bucky leaned back, resting his forehead against hers, eyes still locked on her. “What are we doing?”

Y/N chuckled softly, heart filled with warmth. “Just getting pleasantly distracted, I suppose?”

A grin broke across his face again as they both caught their breaths, but as the beeping of the oven timer rudely chimed in, harsh and unwelcome, the two of them froze, eyes widening in realization.

“Shit! The cookies!” They both exclaimed in unison, scrambling off the counter, laughter outweighing the consequence as they rushed to the oven.

Heat slammed into their faces as Y/N swung the oven door open, and the sight made the laughter die in her throat. Instead of sweet treats glowing in golden perfection, a tragically charred mess met their eyes.

“Um… Sautéed cookies?” Y/N suggested weakly, biting back a laugh at the disaster they had created.

“More cremated..,” Bucky snorted, and together they erupted into laughter, a mix of sweet and salty with a dash of warm chaos that now colored their shared kitchen.

They stood together, laughter echoing, the moment precious—burnt cookies forgotten, and the overwhelmed aroma of sweetness clashing with the smell of charred disaster. Y/N could only shake her head at the chaos, finding solace in Bucky’s playful affection, wrapped up in each other against the backdrop of their imperfect perfection.

In the warmth of love and laughter, Y/N smiled up at him, her heart swelling with delight. “What’s next then? Attempt a pie?”

“A pie?” Bucky looked at her incredulously, then broke into a grin. “That sounds dangerous. I’m in.”

And with that, they moved forth into the next sweet adventure, hand in hand, hardly able to contain the laughter that lingered in the air and the warmth that fused their hearts together.

#bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky smut #marvel

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najia-cooks · 2 months ago

Text

Lemon balm shortbread cookies

Lemon balm (Melissa officinalis), a commonly foraged plant in the mint family, gives a lightly herbacious, bright lemon flavor to these shortbread cookies. They have a classic, crisp, sandy shortbread texture; optional poppy seeds add crunch and a mild nutty flavor. The lemon balm and poppy seeds may be swapped out for any combination of herbs, spices, or citrus zest that your heart desires.

These cookies are subtly sweet and very dunkable, making them perfect companions to a cup of tea or coffee.

Recipe under the cut!

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Lemon balm has square stems and opposite leaves (two leaves per node on opposite sides of the stem). Leaves are simple (one leaf blade with no leaflets); ovate and slightly heart-shaped, with scalloped edges; slightly glossy; thin, soft, and hairy; and deeply veined. They are emerald green on the top, and a lighter greyish green on the underside. They have a lemony scent and an oily texture when crushed. Stems and petioles (leaf stalks) are covered in small standing hairs.

Ingredients:

120g (1/2 cup + 1 Tbsp) salted non-dairy margarine, softened

60g (1/3 cup) caster or granulated sugar

180g (1 1/2 cups) AP flour

1/4 cup (8.5g) minced lemon balm

1 tsp poppy seeds (optional)

Like most traditional shortbread, this recipe follows a 1:2:3 ratio of sugar:butter:flour (by weight). Any herbs, spices, citrus zest, etc. of your choosing may be added to that base.

You could replace the caster sugar with powdered sugar if you want a melt-in-your-mouth texture, rather than a typical crumbly shortbread texture.

Instructions:

Cream margarine with an electric beater for 30 seconds, until it has a whipped texture. Add lemon balm and sugar and beat for another 3 minutes or so, until a couple shades lighter in color (this means that you have incorporated enough air).

Add the flour and mix well with a wooden spoon; then press with your hands to form into a ball.

Roll the dough out into a cylinder. You can make the cylinder more regular by placing it on a piece of wax or parchment paper, then folding the parchment paper over; use a ruler or the flat of a knife to force the cylinder of dough back into the folded edge of the paper.

Wrap the dough by twisting the ends of the parchment paper around, like a candy wrapper. Chill the dough for at least an hour, to keep the cookies from spreading in the oven by allowing the flour to absorb liquid.

Using a sharp paring knife, cut the cylinder of dough into slices about 1/4" thick. Place on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper, about 1/2" apart.

Bake at 350 °F (180 °C), in the top third of your oven, for 8 to 10 minutes. For chewier cookies, bake just until the center of the top and bottom of the cookie is no longer wet-looking; for crisper ones, bake until the edges are just starting to turn a light golden color.

#baking #cookies #biscuits #shortbread #lemon balm #foraged

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in-som-niyah · 9 months ago

Text

"See, I love your Icing"

Warinngs: softdom!Jason, cum eating, slight dumbification????, jason says princessa instead of princess idk, babying??? (NOT AGE REGRESSION)

in which Jason just can't wait for you to frost the cookies...

The warm Gotham sun shone proudly through the blinds of your shared bedroom where Jason was taking a well-deserved afternoon snooze.

Though he tossed, he managed to stay asleep through the night and quite late into the afternoon.

Not having the heart to wake him, you got your day started. After some hours pass with Jason nowhere near out of bed, you decide to indulge in some solo-cookie making.

Unbeknownst to you, you would not, in fact, be doing anything solo.

As if timed, you hear the bed creak in the other room, signalling an awake Jason. It wasn't too bad, sharing your cookies with him, especially since you made enough for the both of you.

Jason stirred awake. His arms reaching out in all directions to find a source of loving warmth he has come to know as you. Disappointed, he flipped onto his back and rubbed his face. He was running through his duties in his head when his thoughts were silenced by his other, needs.

Feeling down his body, he recognizes the sizeable bulge in his boxers and squeezes, suddenly regretting being 'too tired' the night before.

You washed your hair yesterday and with the added time in the shower, your skin was buttery soft. Usually, you would moisturize with a shea-based lotion to combat dryness which makes your skin glisten.

Unbeknownst to you, this drove Jason wild.

Just the thought had him reeling in his pants.

That's it. He had to find you.

Tumbling out of bed, he neglects putting any kind of substantial clothing on (like a shirt) because, according to his horny logic, it will end up on the floor anyway.

As he makes his way out of the room, the smell of sweetness hits his nose. You're up. And you've bee busy.

Perfect.

When he steps into the kitchen, he finds you humming to yourself in your his shirt kneading something that smelled amazing.

Unfortunately for the cookies, he's not too interested in them at the moment.

"Hey sleepybird!" You greet as his footsteps grow closer to you.

Before you could turn around and give him a proper hug, his hands magically find themselves around your waist and massages your hips.

"g'morning to you too, pretty girl" Jason slurs, sleep clearly still with him.

His head finds a home in the crux of your neck, breathing in your scent as his lips find purpose on your soft skin.

"you weren't in bed" he sadly reprimands with a slight pout. You fondly remember how grumpy he was the last time he woke up without you.

"Okay first off, its afternoon and second..." You pause to turn and look at him, "I'm making cookies." You finish excitedly.

Before you could turn your head, a thick, scarred, hand finds its way to your jaw and gently guides it up to his awaiting lips.

At Jason's attempt and deepening the kiss, you break off and look at him.

"but Jaybean what about the-" You were cut off by a by a passionate kiss to your jaw, then your neck, then your collarbone-

"wait- wait what about the cookies?" You finally get out, breathless and flustered by his sudden actions.

You sheepishly turn to look at him, only to find a puzzled and slightly annoyed Jason.

"You're right, finish the cookies. I sure ain't stopping you." He finishes with a smirk.

That smart ass motherfu-

His lips began their assault on your neck again making your knees weak and head light. He was right, he was in no way actually stopping you from finishing laying out the cookies on the sheet, but you'd be a fool if you didn't know he had something up his sleeve.

"J-Jason" you whine, mind desperately trying to focus on rolling the dough into balls and placing them on the sheet.

"What is it, sweetheart?" He briefly pauses to respond to you, his hands still roaming the expanse of your tummy, hips and ass. All places he should not be when you're trying to finish these damn cook-

"c'mon princessa, use your words." He prompts, this time parting your legs with his knee, causing his thigh to rub against your now-soaking folds.

"Awww is my baby all wet from just kissing?" Jason teases before you could reply.

Still somewhat confident, you deny his accusation with a firm 'no', but that only got you two of Jason's thick, curled fingers in your cunt to check, and sure enough, your pussy betrayed you. As he removed his fingers and sucked your essence off of them, the loss of fullness ignited the fire of need in your core.

"J-Jay...please" You plead. You need him so bad that you have no idea what you're asking for. All you need is him everywhere and all at once.

"Please what?" Jason quips.

Oh.

He was being mean today.

Well then.

In defiance, you grind your ass down on his bulge, which earns a hiss and a chuckle from him.

"Not yet princessa. You said it yourself, finish the cookies."

How dare he get you so hot and bothered? Your annoyance was quickly replaced by determination as you picked up another piece of dough and rolled it in your hands.

You almost drop the ball when Jason's hands plant themselves at your hips and begin to move you up and down his thigh.

The motherfucker was playing dirty.

A breathy moan escaped your lips as you tried to contain yourself for the sake of finishing what you started. Training your eyes on the materials in front of you, you desperately rolled ball after ball of dough and placed it onto the tray.

Growing impatient, you begin to grind down on his thigh, earning you some actually satisfying friction for once.

Though Jason was disappointed, he let your little stunt slide, since you were almost done and his cock was beginning to throb.

As soon as you put down the last ball of dough, Jason roughly grabbed your jaw and dominated your mouth. His hands around your hips stilled, giving you the perfect opportunity to grind your ass back against his throbbing crotch.

Moaning loudly, Jason turns you around to the sink and has you wash your hands before hoisting you up onto the island where he begins his mission on your neck once more.

Your cunt was screaming for relief, but you were concerned about the baked goods just below you.

"Jason" You began in a moan. "fuck- the cookies! y-you really wanna do this in front of the cookies?" You joke, trying to see if you have some leeway on where he dicks you down.

He acknowledges you and shoves the baking sheets to the other side of the island, and lifts you to sit properly on the counter without lifting himself from your neck.

"So? I like icing on my cookies babe, especially if its yours" He retaliates.

By now Jason's hands have made it under your his shirt, to massage your braless tits and tweak your hardened nipples.

You hands were also busy making quick work of his boxers and freeing his weeping cock. The red angry tip could be seen even from your hazy, half-lidded eyes.

He captures your lips again, distracting you from his sneaky hands removing your shirt and quickly making their way down to your panties.

Jason briefly takes a step back to pull off your panties and step out of his boxers, giving you the view of a lifetime.

His hair was tousled by both sleep and your vicious hands, his forehead was covered by a thin layer of sweat and his toned abs flexed with every bend of his broad back.

The sight alone made your walls clench around nothing.

"Liking what you see princessa?" He taunts as he presses his forehead to you and smirks.

Without giving you a chance to reply, he prods at your soaking entrance, pumping himself a few times.

As he begins to sheathe himself in you, He forces your head to eye-level with his, silently telling you to keep your eyes on his as he studies your fucked-out face while he sinks into you for the first time.

Both of you moan out pornographically in unison, the pleasure of eachother overwhelming the both of you.

"m-move...please jay move p-please" You beg, the feeling of his length filling you up just right, overwhelms your senses.

"Anything you want pretty girl" He mumbles as he pulls out almost entirely and immediately hides himself back in your folds.

The sound of skin slapping skin fills the kitchen and surrounding area.

Over and over he would full you up so, so good making you see stars when your eyes rolled back into your eyelids.

The coil in your tummy began to tighten and almost snap, but there was too much going on to focus.

"J-jay" You whined, growing desperate for relief.

"Fuck- yeah baby?" He say as he tears his eyes away from where you two are connected to look into your eyes.

"Wanna c-cum" You slur, eyes rolling back as a particularly hard thrust rubs that special spot inside you.

"Then cum" Jason replies, with a slight smirk.

"c-can't" you whine, tears beginning to flood your eyes. You were so close, yet still too far

At this, Jason took pity on your poor cunt, and decided to spare you.

"Shhhhhh I know I know-" he begins, slowly sneaking an arm around your wast while the other makes its way onto your puffy clit.

You clench hard at the new stimulation, almost making Jason cum on the spot, and cry out.

"Better?" Jason questions, knowing damn well the answer to.

You nod your head arduously, as your legs begin to tremble around his waist.

A few more of his circles on your clit and you were reeling, head thrown back and moaning.

"C'mon baby, 'm right with you" Jason slurs as his thrusts become sloppy, clearly holding on as best as he could.

At this you began to focus on the coil in your tummy again paired with the added stimulation on your clit. You feel the pressure mounting quickly and you're barely able to catch your breath.

"You're right there sweetheart, I need you to get there for me hm? Can you do that?"

You nod your head again and try to speak before the coil completely snaps and you tumble over the edge. Your mouth is left agape as you tread your way through white-hot bliss.

Your orgasm causes Jason to tumble over as well, and he cums inside you with a groan. Ropes of cum painting your insides a milky white.

Your body is limp when you come down, Jason's strong arms immediately around your back supporting you as you gain back your awareness.

"You okay?" He asks, genuinely this time.

You manage to answer him through your pants.

Impulsively, he drags a finger down your folds and tastes himself mixed with your essence.

His face blooms with happiness at the taste.

"See, I love your icing."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

See i told yall i would post <33

this post was made in holy matrimony with @fandxmslxt69 in the comments of this post

alr time for bed

COMMENT ON MY WORK IF YOU LIKE IT PLEASE!!!!!!!!

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hearts4golbach · 8 months ago

Note

can you make a long Johnnie x fem reader fluff?🙏🏼🫶🏼

Slumber Party.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

a/n: happy april foolsss!

i impatiently waited for my boyfriend to text and tell me he was done recording with jake. i scrolled aimlessly on tiktok, reposting videos that reminded me of johnnie. about an hour had passed before i received a text from him.

johnnie: hey baby i'll be over soon if i can still stay over :))

me: ofc you can 😭 i'll see you when you get here ❤️❤️

johnnie: i'm so excited to see you

johnnie: i've been so busy

johnnie: i miss you

me: i miss you more, now hurry up and get here

johnnie: yes ma'am

10 more minutes had passed, my heart beating faster as i heard a knock on the door. i practically sprinted towards the door, throwing it open to reveal my handsome boyfriend. he stood there with a smile on his face before pulling me in for a tight hug. i jumped up, wrapping my legs around his waist as he laughed.

"did you miss me?" he teased, running his fingers through my hair. i remove my head from the crook of his neck, giving him the look. he giggled again before leading me back to the living room. he gently dropped me on the couch before plopping down next to me. "did you have anything planned."

i nodded, "mhm. i bought cookie dough so we can make cookies and watch a movie. but, we don't have to do that." i smiled softly.

he pats my knee before standing up, "well, let's go make those cookies. are you gonna watch scary movies with me tonight?"

i roll my eyes as i open the fridge. "why are you so persistent? horror movies aren't really my thing." i complain, setting the dough out on the counter.

johnnie had already gotten the cookie sheet out. "i think you'd really like them, you just haven't gotten to see any good ones!" he protests.

"fine." i give in, earning quiet cheers from johnnie. "if you traumatize me even more, i'm going to kill you."

"whatever you say, love." he smirks before placing a kiss on my forehead.

we began to make small balls of cookie dough and placed them strategically across the pan. i made johnnie put the pan in the oven since i had always been afraid of heat. i thanked him quickly, placing a kiss on his lips before eating some of the raw cookie dough. i gathered some of the leftovers on my finger and licked it off, my mouth making a pop sound. he raised his eyebrows before doing the same.

i smacked my lips slightly. "so, i had an idea." i smile nervously, "we should do face masks."

he raised his eyebrows higher. "i mean, sure."

"do i get to post us on instagram if we do?" i plead, pressing my hands together.

he dramatically rolled his eyes, "sure."

"your fangirls are gonna eat that shit up." i teased. "we can put them on while we wait for the cookies to bake."

"yeah," he held a goofy smile on his face.

we took an adventure to the bathroom. i pulled out a container of peel off face mask that i had gotten at dollar tree, funny enough. "this shit may burn our skin off, it's from dollar tree."

"oh, whatever. my skin is fucked up anyway." he replied, covering his face and shaking his head.

"oh, shut up." i laughed. i handed him a headband. "we gotta pull your bangs back, babe."

he scrunched his nose before obliging, slipping on the slug eye headband to reveal his forehead. i took a makeup wipe and began to take off all of the excess makeup he had on. he washed his face as i did the same, taking off all my makeup then washing my face whenever he was done.

i hopped up on the counter to get to eye level with Johnnie. i squeezed some of the face mask onto my finger before spreading it all over his forehead and face. the sparkly hot pink face mask was a drastic contrast to his fully black clothing and dark hair.

he looked in the mirror, making weird faces as the face mask began to dry. "give it here, let me do yours." he giggled like a child before taking the tube from my hand.

while he was putting the pink goo all over my freshly washed face, another idea popped into my head. "what if we built a fort to watch a movie in with our cookies?" the giddiness in my voice shone through.

he smiled, "what? are we in 5th grade?" he asked me teasingly as he washed the leftover face mask off of his fingers.

"no, but what's stopping us? come on, it'll be fun!" i pleaded with him.

"i'm just messing with you, i'd love to." he admitted. he kissed me forehead, getting face mask on his lips. he laughed, "shit." he mumbled as he wiped the residue off of his mouth.

"okay, let's go heck on those cookies." i dragged him out of the bathroom back into the kitchen. as i opened the oven, a strong draft of chocolate chip cookie smell hit me. "oh my god, they smell so good." i exaggerated.

"well, are they done?" he asked impatiently.

"looks like it." i scooted out of the way so he could pull them out of the oven.

we let them cool as we migrated to the living room to make our fort. johnnie pulled in chairs from the dining room as i gathered all of my extra sheets and blankets. i made a palette on the floor and Johnnie put a chair at every corner and 2 on either side of the blankets. from the floor, we could see the tv perfectly. using teamwork, we draped a sheet over all of the chairs. finally, we tossed all of our pillows inside.

the cookers were still warm but now they were edible. i tossed a bag of popcorn in the microwave as we plated the cookies and grabbed glasses of milk and another miscellaneous drink from my fridge.

Johnnie and i crawled into the blanket fort. i leaned back into his shoulder, careful as to not get any face mask on his shirt. he smelled faintly of his cologne and the face mask. i turned on IT, specifically the one from 2017. It was one of my favorite movies, obviously. i pulled out my phone and took a picture of the two of us before setting it as my new wallpaper and posting it on instagram.

Johnnie began to pick at his now dried face mask. “i think mine is fully dried.”

“the. you can peel it off and put the scraps-“ i paused, looking for somewhere to set them for the time being. “somewhere. we can throw them away later, i don’t want to get up now.”

after i had peeled all of mine off, i curled up in johnnies arms. i leaned my head on his chest as he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer. we laid like that for a couple hours, adjusting as needed as we watched IT and the sequel to IT.

“you hungry?” Johnnie gently shook my shoulder, making sure i was awake. “i’ll door dash us something to eat, if you are.”

i nodded, “yeah, i am.”

“wanna order Chick-Fil-A?” he asked, scrolling through the door dash app.

i hummed, “that sounds so good right now, yes.”

he made the order. i rolled over to check my phone. it was around 1 in the morning, and surprisingly i wasn’t all that tired. Johnnie decided to turn on The Crow since i had never seen it before.

whenever the food finally arrived, we ate our hearts out and finished off the rest of the cookies we had made. we turned on another movie whenever that was over. Johnnie and i laid there in each others arms, full and content.

as both of our eyelids began to get heavy and our eyes watery, we decided to move upstairs into my bedroom. i threw myself onto the bed and Johnnie crawled in next to me, wrapping his arms around me before pulling me closer. he kissed my forehead, whispering a sweet goodnight before we both drifted off to sleep.

#fanfiction #fanfic #johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #hearts4golbach #sleepover #slumber #slumber party #fluff

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fashionteahouse · 28 days ago

Note

here me out

paul x reader

what about boys (the pack ) reaction when reader says she wants soms milk and paul says to her he got something better ��👀

oh gosh 😭 hope you enjoy :)

best interest - paul x reader

The door closed as the last bit of the pack left out with their Alpha. You and Emily glance at each other as you both spot ingredients to make baked goods. Placing the ingredients into the large bowl, mixing them together, you and emily rolled balls of raw cookie dough onto a baking sheet.

Sliding it into the oven, you wind the small timer to clock when the baked snack is finished baking. With your arms crossed, you peer out of the window and watch the leaves fall and float by the windows. The wind was blowing them as they skid on the ground. Emily sits quietly at the wooden table with her book of choice.

You keep your eye on the light of the oven, peaking at what the cookies look like mid rise. The small timer dings it’s alarm, letting you both know that it’s time to pull them out. Emily places mitten gloves on and pulls the freshly baked cookies onto a cooling top.

Letting the cookies cool, you grab a display plate for them, so for when you place them on the table for the boys, they can easily grab them. You of course set some aside for you and Emily.

The boys, tired, and hungry, they come in smelling the freshly baked goods. Their eyes light up at the sight of them. You move to look through the fridge, looking for the white beverage to dip them in but you couldn’t find any.

“Emily did you run out of milk?” you ask her.

“Yeah, sorry.” she tells you with an apologetic expression in her face.

You close the refrigerator door back and return to your own cookies that you have bitten from. Paul’s lips touch your cheek, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Do you like it?” you ask him as you break off a piece to put in your mouth.

“Yeah.” he says, everything you made or help make, was always delicious.

“Do you like it?” he asks you as he noticed a slight frown on your face.

“Yeah,” you say as you shrug a little and chew, “I want some milk.” you tell him. He slowly brings on a smirk, “I got something better.” he says in a teasing tone.

The statement makes you blush but the moment was bombarded with groans and calling of Paul’s name. The groans were collective as the other boys shook their head and glared at him.

“We’re eating.” Sam says in an irritated tone and shakes his head.

“Please. I just have her best interest at heart. Grow up.” Paul tells them all. You tried your best to hold in your laughter so you put another piece of cookie into your mouth to eat. Paul does nothing but move forward and sensually nuzzle your neck. It only meant for you to hurry up so you both could get home already.

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sarahscribbles · 1 year ago

Note

Drabble Request - Loki saying”I love you” for the first time. Can be either fluff or smut, your choice <3

I wrote this in 2 hours when the motivation hit so I'm sorry if that's painfully obvious while reading! Please don't cut me out of the will!

𝐈 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟕𝟑𝟖

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It takes longer than usual for the quiet sound of Loki’s footsteps to come padding down the hallway.

Typically, he’s like a moth to a flame from the minute your mixing bowl hits the countertop, unable to resist the baked goods that it promises. He’ll linger like a shadow around the kitchen under the guise of “assisting” when you know what he’s really doing is waiting to assault the baking tray as soon as it leaves the oven. Your lover has the most ferocious sweet tooth out of anyone you know, and where raw cookie dough is, Loki isn’t too far behind.

Today, though, the apple pie you’re baking is already browning and you’ve moved on to scooping out the mixture for a dozen cupcakes - cupcakes that you’re only baking because you know they’re his favourite - when he rounds the corner, looking effortlessly beautifully even in a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms and a black sweater.

You hear his appreciative inhale of the air that’s sweet with the scent of pastry and vanilla. “Have I died and arrived in Valhalla?” His deep voice rolls over you like liquid silk, and he’s swiftly crossing the small space of the kitchen to easily mould himself against your back and loop his arms around you.

There’s nowhere else on earth you’d rather be. Not when his arms have become your safe space and his laughter is now your favourite sound. Not when…well…

You push your hips back gently against his. “Took you long enough to notice,” you tease him, whacking his hand away when he tries to dip a finger into the raw cupcake mix.

Rascal.

His laughter rumbles against your back and, god, the sound of his joy is so infectious that you find you can’t help but secretly grin. “Darling, the last time you baked, you explicitly told me that if I continued to bother you, you would beat me with your rolling pin.”

With a quiet “tut” and shake of your head, you continue to smooth out the last of the batter into the little paper stands. “You know I wouldn’t actually beat you with a rolling pin, dummy.”

I love you too much. You want to add.

“That’s not a chance I’m willing to take,” he teases back, but then lightly kisses your temple. “What’s on the menu today?” he then asks, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You wriggle back against him. “Apple pie because it’s almost Halloween, and peanut butter and chocolate cupcakes because…because I know they’re your favourite,” you reply, trying to sound casual while scraping the last bit of batter off the spoon.

He’s never told you outright that they’re his favourite, but you’ve noticed. You know that he prefers to shower at night and that he’s grown fond of sitcoms. You know that he hates green peppers but could eat an orange one whole. You know that he’s not ready to talk about the nightmares that have him waking in a cold sweat, but that he’ll relax instantly when you twist yourself around him beneath the sheets.

You know that you love him.

The three words have been on the tip of your tongue for weeks and you want to tell him, but you don’t and you haven’t because what if…

“I love you,” he murmurs gently into your hair. It’s soft and simple and filled with so much truth that your heart swells in your chest.

How long has he known?

Gently, he takes the utensils from your hands and pulls you around to face him. His eyes are glittering like stars as he looks at you, like he can read the secrets of the universe between each line on your face.

“I love you,” he repeats, placing his palms on each side of your face and tracing gentle lines with the pads of his thumbs.

He’s smiling down at you and you know he’s been wanting to say those three words for as long as you have. Happiness is flowing through every vein that this beautiful man loves you back, and with three words your heart and soul are his for as long as he’ll have them.

Your voice is shaky when you speak, but you have no idea if you’re laughing or crying. “Thank god. Because I love you too.”

You’ll love him with everything you have, until your lungs give out and the stars fall out of the sky.

#loki #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki fanfiction

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junos-jrabbles · 1 day ago

Text

How would baking with the mercs go?

Authors note sorry it's all short and possibly unreadable I might do some more of the fellas another time :) I'm am so cold and eepy

Pyro, Sniper, and Scout :)

Pyro

Spectacularly, believe me, it’d go so well, definitely no burning around here! No sir!

Jokes aside, it’d go pretty well!

You guys would bake some cupcakes, maybe some sugar cookies, as they’d probably love all things sweet in the kitchen, and you’d both be covered in flour, eggs, sugar, and god knows what in no time.

You’d get walked in on while jousting with rolling pins, and have to try and make it seem like you were being normal. Impossible.

Pyro would be sat, cross legged on the floor in front of the oven, watching the baked goods through the window.

Only some of the confectionaries would come out burnt, mostly due to you two getting distracted flipping through the recipe book and gawking at all the pretty treats.

You'd point like an excited ape at a towering cake, and Pyro would excitedly drum their hands on the paper and teeter on their heels, squeaking out muffled, joyous sounds under the mask as the cycle continued.

You guys would FEAST on your delicacies in Pyro's room, and have a little picnic/tea party with some old cartoons in the background :)

~~~

Sniper

It’d be a pretty peaceful activity, I’d imagine, an hour or so spent kneading, rolling and cutting pre bought cookie dough before you set it in the oven for as long as it says on the tin while you go spoon in his bed.

He probably wouldn’t have the ingredients for baking (or much fancy cooking) in the camper, and when you guys snuck into the base’s pantry, Lieutenant Bites was paws shoulders deep in the sugar, so.

The cookies would come out pretty perfectly, a little misshapen, (Sniper definitely tried to turn one into a heart, or an animal of some sort, and it came out as a funny blob) but really good!

He'd make sure you were both there ready the second they started turning a yummy golden brown around the edges.

He'd pull out the tray trying not to laugh, “Promise you won't laugh… the dog's gone blobby—” And almost drop everything.

You guys would cook up a batch, put half in a nice big baggy and eat the other half with him on the sofa with a board game in progress on the coffee table in front of you.

~~~

Scout

He's throwing the eggs between his hands like that one cooking mama mini game, and is NARROWLY avoiding splattering them absolutely fucking EVERYWHERE.

He'd absolutely go try and steal one from Archimedes if he dropped one

There's a crumpled sheet of paper with his ma's Boston cream pie recipe on the counter, and flour covering every single surface.

“Look, I don't know what’cha mean by ‘It won't work’— Are you sayin’ my ma ain't a world star chef? Nuh— Nuh-uh, I ain't listenin!”

He's asking you to make it tiered like a wedding cake, and he's adamant that not only is it possible, but that you definitely know how to do it.

He's got his fingers in his ears when you try telling him you don't think you can do that, and only starts listening again when you offer him the whisk to lick when you're done stirring the base cake mix.

The cake comes out okay, you manage to get just about everything put together, though, you guys definitely ate a bit too much of the cream while you were waiting, and only had a small layer to put in by the end.

It's yummy, at least! And when anyone comes into the kitchen wondering why it smells vaguely like burning and moreso like cake, you two link up like a defensive wall in front of it, looking around very inconspicuously, of course.

“What cake? Where? Someone's got cake?” Sloooowly hiding it behind your backs.

#sniper tf2 #pyro tf2 #scout tf2 #tf2 imagines #tf2 x reader #team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 sniper #tf2 scout #tf2 pyro #oh god it's at it again

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babydollmarauders · 11 months ago

Text

CHRISTMAS COOKIES — DAWSON MERCER

dawson mercer x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which baking christmas cookies with her boyfriend leads to y/n getting sticky

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, p in v (unprotected), nipple play, food play. (2.5k words)

notes: welcome to day 5 of the 12 days of kinkmas! i wrote this smut in…october! i tried something a bit different with this one, i hope y’all enjoy it!

“i’m gonna start on the wet ingredients, you think you can handle the dry ones?” i survey the countertop as i speak, containers of flour, sugar, and the likes all spread across the marble counter.

“yeah, i can do that.” Dawson nods, seeming confident, and i press a quick kiss to his cheek before i retreat to the mixer on the other side of the counter.

“uh… what’s the dry ingredients?” my boyfriend questions, making me turn back to see him staring at the ingredients with bewilderment. “they all seem dry to me.”

his head snaps up at the sound of my giggle, pasting a confused smile on his face.

“okay, how about i make the cookie dough, and you make the icing?” i suggest, and his shoulders slump in relief, nodding his head.

“that, i can handle.” he grins, switching places with me so he’s by the standing mixer.

i can use the hand mixer for the wet ingredients of the cookies, but i’m not sure i trust Dawson to not make a mess of the icing with the hand mixer.

we work in tandem, a gentle flow of holiday music pouring out from the alexa in the living room as we do our jobs.

it’s mainly silent between us, both focused on our own tasks; the only words being those of asking each other to hand the other something.

i’m nearly done rolling out the dough when Dawson comes over, proudly grasping the mixing bowl of icing. his hands are covered in powdered sugar, a wide, prideful smile on his face.

“i’m done!” he states, setting the bowl on the counter beside me so i can see.

“it looks great! good job, babe!” i cheer, transferring the dough onto a cookie sheet before popping it in the fridge to chill.

i turn back to my boyfriend, who stands at the counter, playing with leftover flour that i had sprinkled down to keep the dough from sticking to the countertops.

he perks up as i walk back over to him, a wet washcloth grasped in my hands to clean up the mess. the ingredients already taken care of, due to my tidy tendency of putting them away as i work.

“now what?” he asks me, watching as i wipe off the counter.

“well, the dough has to chill for at least an hour.” i explain, “so we can do whatever you want.”

a spark ignites in his eyes, and i know i should’ve chosen my words more carefully.

“whatever i want?” he repeats, taking a step forward. the front of his body presses against mine, his head dipping down to capture my lips with his.

he tastes sweet and sugary, like the icing he just made. his hands snake around to rest on my butt, and when he pulls his lips from mine, he chuckles.

“what are you laughing about?” i raise a brow, and when he brings his hands up to show them to me, they’re still covered in powdered sugar and flour. “oh my god!”

a lighthearted gasp escapes my lips, twisting and contorting my body to try and see my ass. when i do, i find two white powdered handprints on my black leggings.

“oh, you asshole!” i huff, turning back to glare at him as he now washes his hands at the sink, but he just laughs, knowing i don’t mean it. “you did that on purpose!”

“so what if i did?” he teases, watching me try and swat the white powder from the fabric.

i roll my eyes when i see that it’s only spreading it rather than getting rid of it.

“now i’ve gotta wash these.” i push the leggings down my legs, stepping out of them and leaving me in Dawson’s oversized t-shirt.

crumpling the black pants up in my hands, i make my way to the laundry room, stuffing them in the washer to join the other clothes that have sat in there far too long, and add detergent before pressing start.

“you know, that was mean!” i call out as i walk back to the kitchen. “you know those were my last clean pair.”

Dawson is leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest and a lopsided smirk on his face.

“i’m sorry.” he feigns a pout, uncrossing his arms in order to let his hands grip my sides, pulling me flush against him. “i guess i’ll have to make it up to you.”

“and how do you plan on doing that?” my hands lay flat against his chest, my head craned to peer up at him. my tone is sultry and slow, and the way he looks down at me, with eyes full of lust, i think i know exactly what he has planned.

he spins us around, caging me against the counter, while his lips meet mine. the once sweet and soft kiss that we shared just moments ago is gone, replaced by one of passion and desire. his tongue flicks across my bottom lip, coercing me into opening them, his tongue slipping through to mingle with mine.

his now clean hands slide down my hips, gripping my ass harshly and pulling my hips against his. a throaty moan is pulled from me as i feel his quickly hardening erection against my core, grinding against him in a steady pace.

i’m abruptly swept off my feet, deposited onto the counter without our kiss ever breaking. my body shivers, my back arching at the cold marble against my heated skin. my legs wrap around his waist, using them to pull him even closer against me, if even possible.

“i need you.” i breathe against his lips, and he nods, tilting chin forward to kiss me again.

his hands begin playing with the hem of my t-shirt, slipping underneath. his hands drag up my torso, brushing along the underside of my breasts before he cups beneath them.

he pulls his lips away, our heavy breaths mingling. pulling off my top, he leaves me in nothing but my cotton panties. his eyes lock on my breasts, my nipples stiff and peaked against the cold December air that the open living room window brings in.

“close your eyes.” he whispers, his breath fanning across the side of my face as he leans forward.

i follow his command, squeezing my eyes shut. my heart races in wonder and confusion, especially when i hear a clatter and screech of metal against the counter.

i open my mouth, about to question his actions, when i’m cut off by something cold and thick spread across my nipples. my breath hitches in my throat, my eyes flying open to gauge his actions.

Dawson stands between my spread legs, his index finger covered in icing, and when i peek down at my chest, i find icing dripping down my breasts.

“oh.” my teeth sink into my bottom lip as i watch him smirk. his eyes lock with mine, staring back at me as he slowly descends to my chest, his tongue darting out.

he licks up my left breast, following the path of dripping icing until he reaches my nipple. my chest heaves as he reaches his desired destination, his lips closing around the stiff peaks, sucking it into his mouth. his tongue swirls around it, collecting the icing.

“oh.” my hand cups the back of his neck, gripping his hair to ground myself amongst the immense pleasure. shockwaves wrack my body, my back arching and my jaw going slack as my head tilts back, my eyes squeezing shut.

he pulls off with a pop, his fingers replacing his lips while he switches to my other breast. while one nipple is pinched and circled by his thumb, the other is licked and drawn into his mouth.

once he’s sucked all the icing off, his hand splays across my chest, pushing me down onto the counter. he dips his finger back into the icing, spreading a line up my torso before dipping in again and slathering it on my nipples once more.

he stares into my eyes, pressing his finger to my lips, and i part them, allowing the digit to push against my tongue. remaining eye contact, i close my lips around him, sucking and swirling my tongue around, licking his finger clean from the icing.

Dawson lets out a groan, his hips rolling against mine in the heat of the moment, prior to pulling his hand away.

he dips down again, pressing a kiss to my lower stomach before letting his tongue drag up my abdomen, licking up the icing. my body tenses as he does so, leaving behind a trail of sticky saliva in his wake. as he reaches my cleavage, he presses open mouthed kisses up my sternum before trailing off towards my left nipple. he licks around it, swirling his tongue and sucking.

my hand flies up to grip the edge of the countertop above my head, the other tangling in his fluffy dark blonde tresses. a cry of pleasure echoes throughout the kitchen, and it takes me a second to even realize it’s my sound.

he kisses his way across to my other breast, repeating the process as his fingers pinch and pull on the hardened peak that his lips just abandoned.

a knot forms in my stomach, tangling and twisting as he goes. my toes curl, my brows furrowing and my back arching as chin tilts up towards the ceiling. a strangled moan falls from my lips, my body convulsing slightly as my orgasm washes over me.

at my heavy breathing and high pitched whimpers, Dawson pulls away, a smirk on his lips as he looks down at me in my blissed state.

“did you just…?” he trails off, chuckling as i nod. “i didn’t know you could do that.”

“me neither.” i shudder, sitting up.

my skin feels tacky from the icing, but i push that thought to the side, cupping the nape of his neck with both hands. i pull him forward, crashing my lips against his.

“that was so fucking hot.” he mutters into the kiss, momentarily getting distracted when i begin to tug his shirt up.

“i want you to fuck me.”

at my words, he pulls away, his hands pulling his shirt over his head before he pulls me in for another kiss. his thumbs hook into the sides of my panties and i lean back on my hands, lifting my hips and allowing him to pull the cotton fabric down my legs.

the cold air hits against my slick heat, resulting in shivers across my body, making Dawson chuckle lowly.

“so pretty,” he compliments, lazily dragging the back of his knuckles down my stomach. “all naked for me.”

his fingers find my core, sliding through my cum. his eyes find mine, holding the contact as he brings his fingers up to his lips, sucking them clean.

i moan at the sight, tugging at his jeans. my fingers fumble with his button and his hands shoo mine away, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping, tugging his pants and boxers down his legs and stepping out.

his dick springs up, slapping against his abdomen, and my pussy clenches at the sight. his tip is red and swollen, a bead of pre-cum leaking out.

i reach forward, gently grasping the base, and giving it a light tug.

“don’t be a tease, baby.” he gruffs out, hands gripping my waist as he yanks me off the counter.

i let go in surprise and he spins me around, pushing me down and bending me over the counter. he wastes no time in running his cock through the wetness of my folds, groaning at the feeling. i can feel his dick prod at my entrance as he lines up, sliding in easily, and my breath catches as he fills me up.

“fuck, you’re so perfect.” he grunts, bottoming out inside of me. one of my hands splays flat on the counter, the other reaching down to my hip, clawing his hand away in order to hold it in mine.

“please move.” i whisper, barely audible over the christmas music that still drifts throughout the kitchen.

Dawson leans forward, swiping my hair to the side and over my shoulder. his bare chest presses against my back as he leaves wet kisses to the back of my neck, his hips snapping as he begins to thrust.

he brings our hands to the countertop, laying my palm flat with his resting on top of it, while his other hand snakes around the front of to gently rub my clit.

an outward gasp drops from my parted lips, pushing my hips back to meet him.

the more time passes, the harder his thrusts get, until my hips are hitting the edge of the counter with each stroke, surely getting bruised in the process.

“shit, i don’t know if i’m gonna last.” his voice is tight, words sounding as though spoken through clenched teeth, and i nod in agreement.

“i’m so close, Daws!” in contrast to the last time i spoke, i’m practically yelling now, my climax building with each stroke and each circular rub of my clit.

my legs feel close to giving out, my back arching to hit a new angle. his thrusts are turning sloppy, the rhythm leaving, and i feel his abs flex against my back, letting me know he’s close.

his finger speeds up, pushing me closer and closer until the edge, until finally the pleasure becomes too much. my legs begin to shake, my walls tightening around him, hitting my orgasm and spurring on his.

Dawson continues fucking me through our releases, fucking his cum deeper into me as he does so. once i’ve come down from my high, i reach back, pushing him away by the hip, and he stops, his heavy breaths mixing with mine as i spin around to face him.

he’s got a small smile as he pants, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against his chest. i lay my head against him, listening to his heart pound, slowly but surely evening back out to its normal pace.

i mentally cringe at a realization. he’s supposed to bring these cookies tomorrow during morning skate before the game against the Flyers.

“well, i think we might have to make more icing.” i joke, gaining a laugh from my boyfriend.

“there’s still plenty!” he remarks, looking down at me with a mischievous grin.

“Dawson, that is so unsanitary! we can’t give the team christmas cookies made with icing that your hands were in!” he opens his mouth as though to argue with me but i cut him off before he can start. “your hands, which had touched my boobs!”

a look of possession dawns across his face and he nods, “you’re right, they’re not inadvertently tasting you.”

“oh gross, babe!” i chuckle, pulling away from him. my chest peels from his, still sticky from the icing, and i cringe.

“i need a shower.”

Dawson scoffs as i walk away, heading towards our bedroom, and i’m almost there when i look over my shoulder.

“you coming?” i call out. i can’t hold back my giggle when i hear his footsteps slapping against the tile and then hardwood, catching up with me.

he raises an eyebrow, pointing back towards our christmas tree in the living room as he speaks.

“if i ever say no to that question, i want you to choke me with that garland.”

#faithlynn’s 12 days of kinkmas #dawson mercer #dawson mercer x reader #dawson mercer imagine #dawson mercer smut #dawson mercer fic #dawson mercer blurb #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl smut #faithlynn’s writings <3

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