♦~Kitchen Disaster~♦

532 20 17
                                    


LET'S A GO-

One-shot idea:

You're making fried dough cookies in your home. Fuyuhiko, your boyfriend who lives with you, finds you making them and does everything in his power to try and eat the cookie dough. A small war breaks out-

Warnings:

FLUFFY!!~ Also mentions of cursing- It's Fuyuhiko, I mean c'mon!

Your POV:

I need to make cookies.... NOW!

       I sit up in bed, taking a quick glance down at my boyfriends sleeping form, who's currently latched onto my waist tightly. His spiky blonde hair is poking my sides, his freckle covered nose twitching slightly with each breath, his small form pressed against mine. I smile warmly down at him, running my fingers through his short yet soft hair, earning a small noise of delight. I giggle to myself at how someone with such a strong front, not to mention pretty buff, can be so soft and caring. I snap back out of my thoughts, my body literally trying to pull me out of bed to make cookies. I look over at our clock, 7:30 am, then turn back to Fuyuhiko; scheming on how I can unlatch myself from his tight grip. I come up with no solution so I grab a pillow and slowly slip myself out of his arms, quickly sliding in the pillow as a replacement. I let out a sigh of relief after Fuyuhiko doesn't wake up, and nearly pass out from cuteness overload as he nuzzles into the pillow; murmuring my name while doing so. I blush, but tip-toe out of the room, being careful to make no noise.

       I make it to the hallway, silently closing the door and making my way to the kitchen, which is like 2 floors down since Fuyuhiko's rich af and spoils me rotten with anything he believes I deserve or need; which is honestly almost anything I look at- I step onto the cold tile of the pristine kitchen, the sun shining through the windows and coating everything in rays of sunshine. I head to the pantry, pulling out a cute apron, pining/tying my hair back so I can see with no problems and pull out ingredients that I'll need.

       What kind of cookies should I make?..... I'll make friend dough cookies since their my darlings favourite!! I smile to myself at the thought of how happy he might be. I pull out flour, sugar and more, grabbing bowls and simply anything I need to make delicious cookies that'll hopefully please the grumpy gangster. I pull out a recipe that I have in a baking recipe book, following the steps, measuring, mixing and combining the ingredients till I make a cookie dough. I start to pour out the dough onto a baking sheet, sculpting a ball-like shape out of the blobs of dough. I pull out a high-rimed pot, filling it mostly full with cooking oil, then I slide a thermometer into the oil; to watch the temperature. I turn on the heat to "cook" the oil, making myself a home-made deep frier. I clean up my mess quietly while I wait for the oil to boil, keeping a watch on it to make sure it doesn't catch fire or anything-

       It makes its way to the proper temperature, leading me to bring the cookies to the oil, preparing to toss them in. I start to sweat with fear and anticipation, knowing this is the most dangerous and difficult step. I slap my hands against my cheeks, trying to fully wake myself up and prepare for the treacherous task. I aggressively whisper a small pep talk to myself.

       "C'mon! You can do, just.... drop the cookies into boiling oil at like 500 degrees Fahrenheit! It's whatever!!! It's not like it'll splash when you drop them in and burn you!!" I run my hand down my face, breathing in and out quickly as I crouch down on the floor, trying to calm myself down. I stand up with puffed cheeks as I grab a cookie, carefully bringing it down near the boiling oil before dropping it; running backwards as to avoid the obvious splash. The oil bubbles, splashing a bit once the cookie was added in, I let out a small sigh; rubbing at my forehead to get rid of my stress sweat. I add in the other cookies, repeating the same process of dropping, running, and silently screaming as to not wake up my boyfriend.

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