Kissing prompts: 12. Funny Kiss, please!
Hey thanks!! :: cracks knuckles :: I have waiting prompt asks for Dansen, ThunderGrace, and Melko/Melda, SO... dealer’s choice is:
🚨trope incoming🚨
Maria Rambeau loved her wife Carol.
She loved her.
She loved her daughter Monica.
Loved both of them to the ends of the universe.
These were the sentences she repeated to herself several times as she surveyed her once-pristine kitchen, currently illustrating what might be considered one of Maria’s personal circles of Hell.
Flour was everywhere. And judging by the way it bravely clung to the vertical surfaces of the cabinets and the ceiling... it wasn’t just a light dusting as much as the cooking equivalent to tarring and feathering a cookspace. The refrigerator looked like something out of a futuristic movie, or the world’s most boring statue.
And her beloved wife and daughter... They were smiling the universe’s most innocent smiles at her, standing proudly next to the cake that had apparently required all of this mess to create. It was round... oblong... with splotchy white icing and blue letters that appeared to say, “Happy Birthday Mommy!”
“Surprise,” said Carol through gritted, though smiling, teeth. Maria could tell from her tone that her wife, at least, understood how this might go over with her.
“Wow...” Maria managed after clearing her throat. “This is... wow! Thank you.”
Mercifully, four-year-old Monica didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, and she happily crowed, “Happy Birthday!”
The end of the word seemed to drop low with horrific slow motion as Maria watched the apple of her eye, her little baby girl, start moving around the table. There was a moment she would surely have to answer for at Heaven’s Gate where Maria almost held out her arms to block the incoming hug from the a flour-covered, mom-seeking missile, but at the last second, she instead opened her arms to accept the tackle-force embrace of her legs. A puff of flour rose between them at the moment of impact.
“I’ll clean up,” Carol mouthed at her while Monica couldn’t see. “Sorry. Love you.”
Maria pursed her lips, but lip-synced I love you back, and finally, Carol came over to join them in the hug. It lasted a few precious, peaceful seconds, and then Monica moved away, chattering something about eating the cake, which seemed questionable.
“You just love getting my blood pressure up,” teased Maria, arms still draped around the blonde’s hips.
After a wink, Carol pulled away when she saw Monica reaching for the paper plates on the counter, and Maria grasped the handle of the fridge to get a soda. As she pulled, Carol seemed to notice, and she whipped back around, a No dropping too late from her lips—Maria had opened the door, and a plastic bowl of something fell out, crashing to the floor and sending more mess everywhere.
Monica and Carol froze like deer in headlights while Maria assessed the giant frosting layer now covering her front, the bowl rolling away, not responsible for its crimes.
There was nothing to do about it. Maria snorted, and then started laughing a loud belly-laugh, until she had to put a hand to the counter to steady herself. It quickly had Monica, and then Carol laughing with her, and their daughter announced she would get her bath towel to help.
“Oh my God,” sighed Carol as she approached, brown eyes watery with laughter. “It’s a little runny.”
“Yeah. Don’t think the cold will help that.” Maria waited until Carol was in range, then caught one of her wrists and yanked her close before she could twist away. With her other hand, she shared the love, smearing a glob of frosting over Carol’s face. “There, now we’re good.”
After giving her lips an effortlessly sensual lick, Carol shrugged in her arms, eyes twinkling. “Not so bad. Texture’s a little off, you wanna try it?”
“Am I gonna get salmonella?”
“Not from the frosting,” chirped the blonde before leaning in for a kiss, which was a sweet one—pun intended—before it was interrupted by Monica barreling back into the kitchen with her towel flowing behind her, ready to save the day.
