jim street oneshots

sweet intentions [ ❥ ]

When you get home, initially you enter the house in a state of confusion. There's a thin film of smoke in the air and baking utensils and ingredients strewn across every kitchen surface, but no sign of Street anywhere.

"Jim?" You call out hesitantly, depositing your coat and bag on the sofa as you wander in. "You here?"

"Uh- yeah." He calls back, sounding closer than you'd expected. Straining your ears, you hear a clatter come from the other side of the counter and it's followed by a litany of swears. "Just give me two, and I- shit, I-"

You round the corner to find Street crouched in front of the oven, with one oven mitten shoved haphazardly on and wielding a tray of sad-looking sugar cookies. Along with the other tray of them on the ground, they've all melted out of their seasonal shapes to form two big burnt sheets of cookie mixture.

Street groans as you take the sight in, and slumps defeatedly on the tiled floor. Try as you might, there's no hiding the humored smile that takes over your face as you lean against the counter and survey the damage. "You wanna explain this for me?"

"I tried to make cookies." He tells you defeatedly, gesturing to the trays as he rises and sheds his one lonely oven mitt. "It didn't turn out so well."

"I can tell." You say, biting back your smile as much as you can as you lean in to press a consoling kiss to his dimpled cheek. "I appreciate the effort, love."

"Good, because there's little else to be happy about here." He tells you, showing you a small smile of his own as the two of you begin about tackling the mess scattered all about you.