Chris Collins Imagines

Cake Baking

You were out jogging when a call came through. You stopped, grabbing your phone out from its designated holder on your arm and saw Chris' face and name appear. You swiped to answer and held the phone with your slightly sweaty hand to your ear.

"Hello," you greeted breathless.

"Hey, what are you doing right now?" He questioned.

"Well I was jogging but now, I'm talking to you so what is it?"

"I was wondering if you could come over, I need some help."

"Sure. What do you need?"

"I need to cook my mom a birthday cake."

"I thought you already did that this morning."

"Well, it's just come out the oven looking like a black rock. Can you help me out?"

"Okay. When do you want me to come?"

"Now would be good."

"Now?"

"Yeah. She gets back in an hour. I don't want her to see."

You sighed, feeling hot and sweaty, wanting nothing more than a shower.

"But I'm all sweaty. Can I go for a shower first?"

"We don't have time Y/N. Time is of the vanilla essence," you could just envision his grin at the other end.

"But I'm in my workout gear."

"Yoga pants, messy bun, tank top?" He questioned.

You looked down at your clothing to see that yes, you had on everything he described.

"Yes Chris, that's generally what I wear to workout."

"In that case, don't even think about changing. I want you here ASAP."

With that he hung up. You smiled, not being able to hold it back and ran back to your house, only to get your car.

You arrived at Chris' and he opened the door for you before you could knock. "I am so glad to see you right now," he said. He wore his usual attire, topped with a white old fashioned cloth apron which had pink flowers on it. You grinned at him. He was so adorable. Flour was in a hand print on his cheek and he had a little in his hair while chocolate mix was down the front of the apron. "How do you get so messy?" You asked him.

"You tell me. I think it's the stress of working in a kitchen."

You chuckled and slid past him, letting yourself in.

As you neared the kitchen, the air became foggy. Smoke was wafting out of the kitchen.

"Chris! What did you do!?"

"The cake has a charcoal crispy topping," he said like it would explain the situation. You rolled your eyes.

"I only just got the fire alarm to stop," he added.

"Where's the masterpiece then?" You asked.

Chris walked over to the counter, showing you a big, dark square object.

He got a plate and knife out of the cupboard and then cut a slice. You saw that there was already a piece missing.

"Here," he handed you a piece. Most of it was still stuck to the tray as he hadn't greased the tin or used any baking paper.

You took it off of him, not the slightest bit amused.

You picked off a piece from the bottom and placed it carefully into your mouth. It was very dense and all you could taste was baking soda. There was nowhere near enough sugar.