㉕. Baking

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Type: F L U F F

Prompt: Y/n and y/bf decide to do some baking, resulting in a disaster.

Word Count: 347



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"Ok, add 2 cups of sugar," you relayed to y/bf, reading the recipe on the counter.

"Yes, ma'am!" He responded, pouring the sugar into the mixer.

The two of you were baking cookies because, well, you were both craving cookies.

"Ok, now 3 cups of flour."

Y/bf added the flour to the mixer and then switched it on. Flour exploded all over the kitchen, coating every surface in a fine dust.

"Welp, I forgot the lid..." He stated, flour dusting his face.

"Really?" You sarcastically remarked, sweeping the flour off your apron.

For nearly 10 minutes, you both cleaned up the flour mess, finding it in every nook and cranny throughout the kitchen. It was going to be quite the cleanup job. Your cleaning was interrupted when something smacked the back of your head—a flying egg.

"Y/bf, did you actually just throw an egg at me!?" You shrieked, feeling where it had cracked on your head.

"Maybe," he smirked, hiding his hands behind his back.

"Oh, you are so dead," you sneered, suddenly launching another egg at him.

The egg splattered all over his face, and the kitchen turned into a battlefield. The two of you raced around, throwing whatever you could grab while attempting to dodge each other's projectiles.

"Hey, y/n, come here!" Y/bf shouted, grabbing you by the waist.

He emptied a cup of water on your head, causing you to scream. But you retaliated by smashing an egg on his chest, making him lose his grip.

"Get me back here!" Y/bf yelled, chasing after you with a bowl of flour.

Little did he know, you had a secret weapon—butter. Dropping a stick of butter, y/bf slipped, just like in the cartoons. The flour he held flew everywhere, adding to the already giant mess, and he ended up tasting some of it.

"Y/bf, are you okay?!"

"Yeah, yeah, I surrender," he groaned.

Offering a hand, you helped him up off the floor.

"Boy, do we have a mess to clean," he sighed, hands on his hips as he surveyed the kitchen.

"I'll get the broom," you sighed.


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