Rock n' Roll Imagines

Cookie Bets (Peter Steele)

"Could you pass me the brown sugar Peter?" you asked, squinting at the recipe for ginger snap cookies.

Your best friend Peter Steele reached into the cupboard for the bag of sugar. His silky black hair was pulled back into a messy bun.

"Here. Wait, the batter doesn't look right. I think you're supposed to separate the dry and wet ingredients," Peter said, staring with disgust at the lumpy batter.

"Really? Since when did you become a chef?" you asked, grinning.

"Well, I've watched my grandmother bake."

"That's your grandmother's way. But this way is faster," you retorted, flipping your braid over your shoulder. "It just needs to be mixed a little longer."

"All right, let's make a bet. I bet it won't turn out, and you think it will. So If I'm right, you have to buy me a pizza, and if you're right, I'll buy you a box of chocolates. Deal?"

"Deal!" you agreed, shaking Peter's large hand. "Now pass me the baking powder. And you're going down!"

Chuckling, Peter passed you the baking powder. "So, what kind of pizza should I get?"

"Now, now, don't get too cocky. You'll be regretting it when I win!"

Peter just rolled his emerald eyes and turned to take a sip of tea. Within a couple of minutes, the batter was ready.

"Well, it does look a little clumpy," you admitted, staring at the ginger-smelling batter.

"Here, let me mix it. Your arms must be tired," your best friend offered and gently put his hand on yours.

In a surprise, your eyes snapped up to his. He was looking at you in such a gentle caring way it almost made you feel uncomfortable.

"Well, my arms are a little tired," you admitted gesturing with your other hand to the bowl. He let go of your hand to take up the spoon.

"I'll try to crush the lumps, but there is a lot of them. So I guess I won. I would like a Hawaiian pizza and a bottle of Pepsi."

"Wait, hold your horses! We haven't cooked them yet. Also, why the HELL are you wanting Hawaiian pizza!"

"Now, now, let's not start this argument again. Pineapple on pizza is just pure heaven."

"Sure!" you mumbled, placing a tablespoon of dough on the cookie sheet.

Within about 20 minutes, the timer beep and the cookies were done.

"Damn, those cookies do smell good!"

"Haha, and here I thought the would turn out bad..." you whispered the last word. The 'cookies' were in a liquid puddle.

"Umm, what happened?" Peter asked, staring at the liquid mess.

"Fuck! I just remembered that I doubled the recipe but forgot to double the flour." you sighed in frustration.

"Well, I guess I'm getting the pizza!" Peter responded, grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh no, you don't! Try my 'cookie,' and then we'll decide on who wins."

"Fine. Let me, just get a spoon."

You watched as Peter slowly picked up a teaspoon of the watery cookie. 'I can't believe he's eating that,' you thought in disgust.

Peter's POV:

I lifted the fork to my mouth and stared at the cookie. Melted butter was swimming in the cracks of the not fully cooked cookie. Taking a deep breath, I tasted the liquid. I could feel my gag reflex starting to kick in. My eyes darted to Y/N. She was watching with a hopeful expression on her face. I fought the urge to spit out the repulsive concoction and swallowed it.

"Well?" she asked. "Is it good?"

'NO! It was terrible!' I wanted to scream. Instead, I answered, "It's pretty good. So let's go to the store and get you your chocolates."

"Really!!! I want to see if it's actually good."

Your POV:

You snatched a teaspoon that lay on the counter and took a generous scoop of the cookie. You popped it into your mouth without a second thought. The most retarted flavor poured into your taste buds. You snatched a paper towel and spit it out. Your eyes watered with the taste of the batter.

"Peter! You can't possibly think that tastes good!"

Peter's eyes were twinkling with mischief. "I thought it was amazing," he answered, tossing a pinch of flour at you.

Your eyes fell on the mess Peter made on your black hoodie. "Oh ho! Now you're getting it!" You grabbed an egg and launched it at your protesting friend. The egg crashed against his muscled chest.

"Wrong move, Little One!"

'Oh no,' you thought. Just in the nick of time, you dodged behind the kitchen island. An egg came sailing past your bent head. You jumped past Peter who had come around the island. Snatching a cup full of flour, you lifted your hand to toss it when Peter caught your wrist. He pulled you against his chest and brought his lips down onto yours. Setting the cup of flour onto the island beside you brought your hand up to rest on his chest. Peter placed you on the countertop. He stepped between your legs still not breaking the kiss. His hands were resting on your thighs. You both pulled away, gasping for breath. Shyly you glanced at Peter, who was smirking at you. 'Wait, am I starting to get feelings for my BESTFRIEND!'

Author's Note: Bonjour, my friends! How have you guys been? 😃 I hope you enjoyed this week's imagine. 

How where loves Peter Steele's band Type O Negative?❤️ I don't listen to metal bands, but I love this one! If you haven't heard of them, I recommend the song 'Cinnamon Girl' and 'My Girlfriend's Girlfriend.'