e swat

anonymous asked:

heyyy house about 15 and 46 for ethan from the prompt list?? thank youuuuu

“If you keep eating it all, we aren’t going to have any cookies. We’ll have like a singular chocolate chip.”

Ethan turned, eyes innocently wide as his index finger stalled in his mouth. The bowl in his hand was gently deposited back to the kitchen counter as he swiped his finger past his lips and began dusting it against his shorts. He offered a smug grin, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose to keep yourself from rolling your eyes. With a sigh, you stretched your arms in his direction, wiggling your fingers, “Did you at least get it mixed up before you started eating it?”

Proudly, he swept the bowl up again and placed it in your palms. “Perfectly. They’re probably going to be the best cookies ever.”

An eyebrow rose as you placed the bowl next to an empty cookie sheet. You turned your back so he wouldn’t catch your giggle.

“Uh huh, definitely.”

Lightly, you dipped your fingers into the batter, meticulously grabbing a sizable ball from within. A couple rolls between your palms and you were squishing it to the cookie sheet with a satisfied hum. The process was repeated until you were around halfway down the pan with little batter remaining.

Ethan had grown mysteriously quiet behind you as you worked, so much so that you found yourself startled when he appeared just paces behind you. The curvature to his facial features was so childlike you found yourself inspecting the entirety of his coiled stature for what possibly he could have done. 

To your horror, you found his hands were covered in a thick layer of flour. And they were hovering dangerously close to your legging clad lower half.

What happens if I do this?” He seemed to be directing the question more to himself than to you as his eyes still trailed where his hands were clearly aiming. 

In a mad scramble, you turned to press your back against the cabinets as your hands opened to your chest in defense. “I will literally kick your ass.”

His lips twitched with the cocky quirk of his eyebrow, “Will you?” Slowly, a hand trekked in your direction.

No, E, stop,” You swatted at his hand, barely catching the side of his wrist in the process. Without any hesitation, Ethan rose his other hand to poke in your direction. Ducking, you tried to squirm your way out of his reach, “Ethan, stop. Stop!” 

He hooked an arm around your waist before you could evade the area. Your feet left the ground for a split second as he drew you back against his chest with a deep chuckle. The hand around your waist flexed against the high rise of your hipbone, spreading a good amount of the flour to your shirt and pants. His opposite hand swept in front of your eyes as he taunted you with a slight tsk in the back of his throat. 

With a great amount of effort, you managed to turn yourself to face Ethan in his heavy grasp. Brown eyes brightened in mischief as his lips drew into the happiest of smiles. “What’s wrong, babe? I just wanted a hug.”

You grunted, drawing your hands against his chest to give a hard shove. He didn’t budge, only tightening his grip as his fingers wiggled near your cheek. With lips pursed, he ducked his face closer to yours, his nose nearly sweeping past your own as he murmured, “Was that supposed to hurt?” 

If you get anymore of that on me I swear-” 

Ethan didn’t let you finish as his hand cupped your chin, drawing your chin up so that it was level with his. Flour dusted across your vision, floating like an evaporating cloud across your line of sight. You squinted as a particularly large clump attached itself to your eyelashes on that side of your face. 

His fingers left your cheek to draw across your jaw, down the column of your throat and to the dip of your collarbone. That hand then dropped to join the other, hands locking against the small of your back as he titled his head innocently, “You’ll do what?”

“I hate you.”

The smirk plastered to his features never left as both hands slid to your ass, giving a firm squeezing before he pulled away. You glowered as you watched him waltz to where the cookies sat forgotten on their pan. He swept them up before making his way back in your direction.

“Care to move your cute little butt out of the way so I can put these in?”

Silently, you sidestepped away from the oven door. Ethan drew open the door, placing the cookies to the second tray before straightening with a dramatic dust of his hands. 

“By the way, you’ve got a little something here-” He gestured at your cheek, “-and here.” He gestured toward your pants with a curt nod of his head.

“No kidding,” You puffed out air enough to produce a small bubble of flour, “I never would have guessed.” 

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