Tags: fluff, baking together trope, sensitive reader, perfectionist undertones between both characters, comfort, slight Mis- characterisation?
Fluffy powder was dotted across your face, a gift from the flour used to bind the dough you squeezed beneath your bare palms. The cookie batter was restless, it seemed, squirming and moving irregularly, it required serious work to morph it into a decent texture.
When mugs had mentioned earlier how badly he missed baking, and wanted to make a sweet treat together as bonding time, you failed to mention your own lack of experience. However you wanted to make him happy, so you pushed your imperfections aside and focused on doing things correctly.
Obviously, You were in charge of the dough.
Mugs stood close by you, mixing icing in a large bowl. Close, but careful not to encroach on your space- everything on the bench perfectly placed to allow you to do your job thoroughly- at your own request. You briefly glance over at his sweet face, his eyes narrowed in concentration, and when you see a pink smeer of frosting decorating his cheek a small grin creeps up across your cheeks.
He looks over at you, eyes thoughtful and conscious. “What?” He asks softly
He rolls his eyes, smiling subtly, and continues.
Before he could blink, you lean across, and kiss his cheek. Laying your lips directly on top of the spot where the icing was mistakenly painted.
Bright, bright red blush spread across his face. You licked the icing off your lips. “Hm, that tastes nice! Good job”
“I-I-I, w-w-what, why-w-why…. Whatwasthatfor?”. You laugh at his stuttering, “you had icing on your face!” You lean in closer to his face, smirking, “besides! I know you liked it~”
A crinkled smile crawled onto up his lips, the colour in his cheeks brightening as he averted your gaze. “…maybe”.
“Shut up” mugs buried his face into his scarf, trying to avoid your cheeky grin.
“How far along are you with that icing anyway? Will it be ready for the fridge soon?” You ask, turning your gaze to the large pink bowl of surgery sweetness. “Yeah, not long. Gotta mix out some more lumps and it’ll be all good to go”
Mugs flicks his own eyes towards the dough wincing beneath your fingertips.
“You might wanna go easy on that dough sweetie, it’s not meant to be rough housed like that”
“But I want it to be perfect-“ you paused mid sentence, surprised, “… you called me sweetie”
“You called me sweetie!” A big bright smile covered your face “you’ve never given me a nickname before!!” You exclaimed with joy. Mugs’ once porcelain white face was now the colour of a ripe tomato, “w-well, maybe… it’s time I give you one..”.
Careful of your flour-covered, dough smitten hands you wrapped your arms around mugmans neck, placing a big, full kiss onto his lips. You feel him melt slightly, as though all the nervous tension was winding, shifting, and slowly leaving his body.
You both suddenly became aware of the icing bowl mugs continued to clutch in his gloved hands. You began pulling back- worried he was uncomfortable. In response, he dropped the icing bowl onto (luckily) the only empty space on the bench, moving his now free hands to encircle your waist, pulling you slightly closer to him. You both lingered in that moment, letting the kiss take up more and more moments as they passed you by.
“Uhhh, sorry, was that too much?” He breathed once your lips had parted. You couldn’t help but giggle, cheeks and heart full of warmth. “You could never be too much”.
He smiled at that. Small but real and true, and as sweet as any sugar could be. “Okay,” he started, “now as much as I love this position we should probably start cutting the cookies, especially if you’re going to keep man handling that dough ”
“Hey! I just want them to be perfect! You really wanna eat mediocre cookie dough?”
“It’s just cookie dough though”
You press a finger to his lips, “Shhhhh let me have my ways”. You felt the way his lips tighten as another smile creeps onto his face, and he lightly pecks a kiss onto your finger.
“Ok but seriously, let’s get back to it”
Just an absolute and total mess.
What were once perfectly cut, individual heart shaped cookies are now a unified lumpy mass spread across the baking tray. “Aw shit” you mumble to yourself, tray in ‘mitted hand.
“How’d they even do that? We did everything by the book!” Mugman exclaimed.
“Clearly the science of baking is not something I’ve perfected “ you mentioned
Mugs chuckled, then stopped as he looked at your face. It was serious, eyebrows furrows and jaw tight, staring down at the cookie chaos in your hands. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“This wasn’t supposed to happen… I don’t understand what I did wrong…” you mumbled
“I mean… they sure aren’t perfect but we can still eat ‘em”
“Yeah but I should’ve done a better job! I shouldn’t have made a mistake like this! And now they’re messed up and it’s my fault”
Mugs couldn’t help but look at you, shocked at how critical you were being of yourself, over such a small thing. “But… it wasn’t you fault? You couldn’t have predicted this”
You both stood in the quiet, neither of you quite sure what to say, and mugs couldn’t help but fidget. He desperately wanted to say something comforting, something loving that would instantly make you feel better- but every sentence that popped into his head fell flat in either respect. So instead, he took your mitted hand, mindful of the hot tray, traced your cheek with his other hand and left a kiss on your forehead.
“We can just make a new batch”
“But… you wanted to make cookies, and if we make a new batch they won’t be ready for hours, and what if I just waste more ingredients?”
“I know that, and that’s ok.. besides, we can’t let my amazing icing go to waste on that dough puddle”
Finally. A lively laugh escaped your once solemn lips, and mugs wanted to kiss you now more than ever before.
“It is very tasty” you smiled. “… I’m sorry for mucking up… and for over reacting”
“You have nothin to be sorry for! You tried really hard, I know you did”
his expression turned sheepish, “and… I know you dont really bake…”
“Wah?! But how?! I thought I was so discrete!”
“Hon, you couldn’t tell the difference between salt, sugar or flour”
Mugs smirked. “Now, can you please put down that tray so I can kiss you?”
A trail of light pink blush crept across your cheeks, and you felt shy at his request. Still, you placed the tray down, removed your oven mitts, and crept closer towards him. Once more he encircled your waist with his large, gentle hands, your hands resting on his chest, as his lips gracefully met your own.
That evening, the two of you continued to bake. Leaving the cookie puddle in the tray for now.
Said cookie puddle sat in its tray, untouched, observing the kitchen’s inhabitants as they bantered, and laughed, concentrated and kissed.
It sat idle as a new, much better looking batch of cookies were placed in and successfully removed from the oven in their perfect heart shapes.
Someone would eat the slab of cookie eventually- it was perfectly suitable to eat after all- but for now, you and mugs would just enjoy one another’s company, the sweetest company either of you could have ever asked for.
Inspired by @elltournesoll ‘s “Made With Love and Sugar” 🩷
Aaaa this took soo long to make!! But anyway, enjoy sum fluffy (slightly mischaracterised) muggy content 💗 also yes ik the title doesn’t make sense but I ran out of ideas lol
love ya’ll! See you for the next one!
