Intimate Cookies Novels & Stories

4 Isabella. I baked cookies. I don’t know what possessed me, maybe boredom, maybe the fact that I’ve only seen three people in the past five days and one of them was a raccoon. Or maybe, just maybe, I wanted an excuse to walk past a certain house in the woods and pretend I wasn’t deliberately delivering baked goods like a lovesick fool. The cookies were chocolate chip. Classic, comfort food, but also, if I’m being honest, my signature move. Not that I have moves. But if I did, cookies would be one of them.

My entire body flushed red. I shut the door quickly, pressing my back against it. “What the fuck was that,” I muttered under my breath, my heart still thumping hard. I carried the boxes to the counter and set them down. My hands automatically went for the smaller one. I tore it open and, just as he said, it was filled with cookies; beautifully shaped and packed. I picked one, biting into it. The moment it hit my tongue, I swear my heart flipped. It was perfect. Buttery, soft, and just the right amount of sweet. I closed my eyes for a moment.

The pinkiest flush tinged my neck. I swallowed hard, fighting the ache in my head. "An answer to what?" He shifted, shifting his weight. "I wanted you to taste my cookies." It was when I caught sight of the little, irregularly shaped cookie held between his fingers. "I know it's probably unsanitary," he rattled off quickly, "but the tray was warm and I couldn't find—" He didn't finish the sentence. Because in a moment of absent-mindedness, I leaned forward and took a bite.

“Still hasn’t arrived. And now, I’m craving it so badly it’s driving me insane.” Arden chuckled softly. “Cookies? All this gloom over cookies?” Asher looked up at him with mock seriousness. “You don’t understand. It’s not just cookies. They were special. Chocolate chip with almond bits. Perfectly crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside—” “Okay, okay,” Arden said, raising his hands in surrender, laughing. “You’re making me crave them too.” Asher sighed dramatically, falling back on the bed. “I hate waiting.”

He did deserve it. "Give them a second to cool down. Trust me, hot cookies have been my downfall way too many times." Ohh I dont have enough fingers on my hands to count the number of times Mira Fameus cookies almost ended me... in the best possible way. They were simply that good. “I don’t know if I can wait much longer." He says as we hear a loud bang of something hitting the floor. I turn around and see a woman standing at the kitchen entrance looking somewhat shocked but then a big smile appears on her face.

I said, my voice flat. Rachel swallowed, looking a little green. “Right. Thorough. Got it.” She took a deep breath, visibly trying to rally. “Well! Even broody, intense communing slash killing probably works up an appetite, right? I brought cookies! Mrs. Peterson, the cook, made her famous chocolate chip ones. They’re, like, guaranteed to make even the darkest day a little brighter.” She held out the basket. The smell of warm chocolate chip cookies, so incongruous in this setting of blood and death, was actually..tempting.

He says. “Thank you! Also do you happen to have an more of those cookies you made me? They’re amazing.” He laughs and opens a cabinet where there is a container full of the cookies. They’re lactation cookies and taste so good that I could eat fifty of them. They’re also healthy enough to eat for breakfast while still tasting like a treat. Chef grabs a small plate and sets two of the large cookies on it before handing it over to me. I take the plate and immediately take a huge bite out of one and groan happily. “So good.”

she calls and I turn back to her, she stretches the plate towards me, “The cookies.” My smile is tight, “Right, thank you,” I take the cookies and walk into my apartment. Once I close the door I breath a sigh of relief before grimacing at the cookies, “Maybe I should get a dog,” I tell myself, it would be the perfect way to get rid of Gerta’s pastries. Playing hide and seek with my waste, because I don’t want Gerta discovering her uneaten pastries there, is getting exhausting.

“Here. Taste it. When you return to your room, I'm afraid you still won't eat anything. So eat a few pieces of this to calm my mind, hmm?” Sashal glares at the cookies. They are chocolate cookies with sesame seed caps. Not a combination one would find at Southern Olf. Indicating that his mother may have made this, or at least, it was cookies specialized in Northern. It was something valuable that shouldn't be given to a random person if he even kept it in his jacket. And yet, he offered it to Sashal? Everything Rohan did to Sashal made her even more annoyed. She felt her stomach drop. She couldn't bear it anymore and cried out.

“Thanks.” We headed over to the ceramic container that was clearly labeled cookies. Upon closer inspection, the smaller writing beneath read “AKA Weston’s drops of sugary goodness. Eat at your own risk.” I laughed, knowing it was probably Sophie herself who had purchased it. Reaching in, I brought out two cookies, one for me and Sophie to split, and one for Ari.