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Fic Request #3 FILLED

cherusha asked for Food!Porn with Will Ferrell, a cookie, and a glass of milk. This is one of the reasons why she is my sooper sekrit girlfriend. I heart her, and I heart this prompt. Now, this is an MULTIMEDIA FIC. Meaning, you MUST download the song accompanying the fic, and listen to it while you read. They are timed to match. Aw, yeah.

Download: Barry White - Never, Never Gonna Give You Up on SendSpace or YouSendIt (coming soon.)

Begin the song, then read the fic. Rated B for Bakery porn, but is really just a man and his need for a hot chocolate-chip cookie. UH. My husband gave this a thumbs up. And wants me to bake him some cookies now.

Will Ferrell And The Cookie


His heart pounded and raced. His need was overwhelming, consuming him. He poured a tall glass of ice-cold milk, laid out a spatula, oven mitts, the cooling rack. The smell hit his nose like a wave crashing on the beach and almost pulled him under.

He stepped closer to the oven - but not too close! - he wasn't ready to make contact just yet. A red tongue poked out to moisten lips. Blue eyes burned with desire. Kitchen apron was tied in front - suggestive? Oh, hell yes. That apron could be untied with the barest touch, with only a whisper of intent.

A long, slender finger slid across the door handle, just a tease, really. The timer clicked forward one. More. Notch.

A hoarse whisper: "Bitch."

The flat of his hand slid gently along the seductive curve of the oven door handle and he got down on his knees in supplication.

"I didn't mean it, god- !"

A roughened cheek pressed against the tempered glass front, inner heat that barely seeped out belied the inferno that burned within. "It's just... I want you - I need you so bad, I can't help myself, and - ."

His finger traced the circle of the timer, lips parted, eyes closed, as he sensed the last click tremble - almost time.


He exhaled on the glass and used both forefingers to trace a small heart in the condensation and let his fingertips slide up the glass, unable to let go for a minute as he stood. The timer buzzed and he bit his lip to hold back a moan. Carefully, and with both hands, he pulled the hot tray out. They had to cool for two minutes or they'd fall apart. Patience was the hallmark of his skills as a lover. And as a baker. He spoke to them instead. Cooed. Noticed every chocolate chip. Whispered to the Chosen First.

Cautiously, his eyes wide and mouth frozen in an "O," he held his breath as he slid the spatula under the cookie that would be First. Slowly, slowly, both hands holding the handle - he didn't dare touch the cookie yet, oh no - he freed the baked treat from the dark, slick metal of the pan on which it had been baked.

The cookie slid completely onto the flat, wide surface of the spatula and then, only then, was he able to sigh with relief, breath slipping from his mouth with hot need. With reverence, the cookie was gently placed on a plate - his special plate. There would be nothing but the best for his desserts.

Slowly he leaned forward, eyes closed, and breathed in the heady aroma it gave off. He traced along the edge to ready it, always gentle, but his intent known. Thick eyelashes fluttered open, eyes of faded-denim burned, smoldered.

It was time.

He picked up the sweet, sweet cookie, held it to his mouth, full lips parted, and waved it side to side teasing himself, his need growing with every pass, unable to stop the whimper that escaped. Just the tip, the barest edge of his tongue reached out and touched the very center of one of the hot, melting chocolate chips, then quickly protected it, enveloped that blessed chip with his lips, teeth pressing down, biting, separating the Chosen Chip from the others, singling it out, as it Became One with his mouth.

The fingers on his free hand curled around the edge of his apron and he was unable to stop the flood of moisture in his mouth as the bite caressed his tongue.

I have to pace myself. Mustn't deprive the others.

The milk stood alone on the red velvety place-mat. A single drop of condensation slowly ran down the side of the glass.

Quietly, seductively, "Baby, I didn't forget you, don't cry."

Now that the first, perfect bite had been taken, the still-hot cookie was prepared to slide inside the tight mouth of the glass, to join with the ice-cold milk. He dipped one long finger into the glass, swirled the white surface and suckled the wet cream that clung to the tip.

"Oh...! Oh...!"

Dipped once, dipped twice, then quickly placed on his tongue like a communion wafer to be held, savored slowly, to dissolve in his sultry mouth, then be transfigured into something larger than just a cookie and milk. His senses were overcome with hot and cold, sweet chocolate and mild cookie, creamy milk. A rapturous expression spread over his face as he leaned back in his chair, hands grasping and relaxing convulsively as the final traces of sweet slid over tongue and down further to fill his belly.

He breathed deeply through his nose, opened his eyes and blinked several times to rouse himself from his sugar-coated stupor. He circled the cool edge of the milk glass and whispered, "Eleven more to go."


So who wants a cookie? (And apparently it's kita0610's b-day! Happy birthday, Kita.)

cross posted to _willferrell for comm play.


( 26 comments — Leave a comment )
Feb. 5th, 2006 02:44 pm (UTC)
ohuhhhh- *bites fork*

This was brilliant! I-- guh. Cookie, milk, Will! Me want. Me turn into Cookie She-Monster, now. I declare this to be the OT3 to end all other OT3s. I would have sex with your brain if that didn't sound completely horrendous. Well, no, that's a lie. I still would.

The milk stood alone on the red velvety place-mat. A single drop of condensation slowly ran down the side of the glass.

Wah! Oh poor milk. This just begs to be made into a French artschool film. so hot. you have broken me.

(He stepped closer to the over = oven)
Feb. 5th, 2006 03:02 pm (UTC)

The funny thing is, I can see this as a short film on SNL with him. maybe it's revealed that he doesn't have anything on under the apron or something, bwah!

*smooches you all up and slides the last, hot cookie in your mouth*
Feb. 5th, 2006 03:15 pm (UTC)
*bites* yum!

Ahaha. Shot in black and white, complete with the narrator talking in a faux French accent, soft accordian music in the background and plenty of close-ups of hands and eyes.

Ooh, and an organ-grinder's monkey. Maybe also a clown with some balloons? Or is that too ambitious? *dreams*
Feb. 5th, 2006 03:18 pm (UTC)


You didn't even DOWNLOAD the song, did you?? It is ESSENTIAL. This is a soft-core piece, madam, and would be filmed with lots of candles burning and a soft focus lens!!
Feb. 5th, 2006 03:33 pm (UTC)
Eep! B-but! Barry White in a b&w artschool film? Where it's all supposed to be symbolic representation of inner turmoil and the meaninglessness of life?

...that is, soft focus lens and porn music. Gotcha.

*offers cute owl*
Feb. 5th, 2006 04:13 pm (UTC)
I didn't download the song either--I already had it on my 'puter! BWA!

The sultry heat...the sensuality...the chips!

I am a broken woman looking for chocolate in vain...

*hangs head and sobs*
Feb. 5th, 2006 05:25 pm (UTC)

*changes song on record player to "I Believe In Miracles"*

Check under the sofa cushions. Prolly some under there.
Feb. 5th, 2006 06:06 pm (UTC)

Gosh, you must be as old as me...lol...

Found some chocolate chips in the cabinet...looking for milk now, must buy cow....
Feb. 5th, 2006 04:32 pm (UTC)
This is just how you bake cookies, isn't it? With your apron tied in front! You minx.
Feb. 5th, 2006 05:25 pm (UTC)

Or with chaps and nothing underneath.
Feb. 5th, 2006 06:06 pm (UTC)
I'm surprised that he doesn't burn himself...lol

Feb. 5th, 2006 06:38 pm (UTC)
c is for cookie, that's good enough for me
bwahahahaha - i can't download, but i totally hummed it all the way through. then i started wondering if chef from south park ever wrote a song about cookies. [i'm a little relieved there's no pillsbury doughboy slash.]
Feb. 5th, 2006 06:42 pm (UTC)
Re: c is for cookie, that's good enough for me
Hee! Well, were his Salty Balls technically cookies? Ahahaha.

[don't tempt me.]
(Deleted comment)
Feb. 6th, 2006 05:54 am (UTC)
Okay, haha!

And I am totally deleting that picture because I am EATING MY BREAKFAST.
Feb. 6th, 2006 05:59 am (UTC)
LOL! Yeah, it's not a pretty sight...
So how's that breakfast?

Oh, and I went to bed last night totally craving fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and it is YOUR FAULT! :)
(Deleted comment)
Feb. 6th, 2006 05:53 am (UTC)
Aw, hell yeah. Baking is like making love to a slow woman. Wait... like making slow love to a woman.

...baking a woman?
(Deleted comment)
Feb. 6th, 2006 11:15 am (UTC)
COOKIES. I baked some after writing it, because- *smooved out organ intro hits you like a ton of bricks with pimp snare in the back ground* -daaaaaaaaamn.

Glad you liked it. :)
(Deleted comment)
Feb. 8th, 2006 01:30 pm (UTC)

I would LOVE to send you cookies. Ha! I read this to Mr. S and he laughed, then praised me, then made me bake him some cookies. :D
Mar. 6th, 2007 09:55 pm (UTC)

Yep, I missed this. I couldn't dl the song here, though. I've just got this big stupid shit eating grin on my face. Cookie eating? I'm on South Beach diet. I hate you. This is fabulous.

And to be a complete nerd here, this is what I love about writing. Language can be twisted to make anything sexy. Though of course, cookies already are.
Mar. 6th, 2007 10:00 pm (UTC)
HEEEEEEEE!! Man, this was one of those weird things I did that I can't help but love, even though we're not supposed to say that sort of thing. *g* I'm SO GLAD you thought it was funny. And seriously: hot cookies? FUGGIN' SEXAY.

*reads the part about South Beach Diet* But so are brown rice and lentils! Mmmm, sexy.

Mar. 6th, 2007 11:46 pm (UTC)
AHAHA. Dude. I love your Will Ferrell love, because it leads to FICS LIKE THIS. And why did I not catch this before now? Why do I SUCK SO BAD? *punches self in the kidney*

No, okay, this is HILARIOUS and I can see it being an SNL short too. And I could HEAR WILL FERRELL'S VOICE and AHAHAHAHAHA the line about the milk. KILLED ME. It was all PERFECTLY paced and funny and I like how your fics never let up, y'know? Like. If they're funny, it's BAM BAM BAM BAM with the funniness and there's never a slow spot, and if they're dark they are OHGODDARK and make you want to pull the covers over your head and say OH THE HUMANITY.

Also dammit, I need a cookie now.
Mar. 6th, 2007 11:56 pm (UTC)
HEEEEEEE!! (I even had Will post this to his journal, which led to Jack being horrified and possibly taking all the cookie dough out of the house.)

I LOVE that you laughed at the "tear" running down the side of the milk glass, yay!!! And I want to make love to your feedback. Or maybe just take it back behind the middle school and get it pregnant.

I WOULD MAKE YOU COOKIES. Damn, they do sound good right about now, huh? <3
Mar. 7th, 2007 07:19 am (UTC)
Holy mother of.....

Okay, I'm freaking starving now.
Mar. 7th, 2007 01:40 pm (UTC)
HAHAHAHAHA. In the words of Phoebe Bouffet: my grandmother's secret recipe: Nes-LEE Tuh-loose. :D
Mar. 7th, 2007 06:01 pm (UTC)
That was wonderfully, hilariously porntastic! It was so densely detailed, I was right there with Will, ice cold milk and all. *holds Barry White's Greatest Hits album and grins knowing there are and Tollhouse dark chocolate chips in the cabinet*
Mar. 7th, 2007 06:15 pm (UTC)
Hahahahaha, YAY!! Mmm, dark chocolate chips. I had to run out and buy some chocolate earlier after re-reading this. That's wrong of me to say, huh? Haha!!

Thanks for reading and LAUGHING!
( 26 comments — Leave a comment )


Are You Actually

Reading this? I'm just curious. Because that's really detail-oriented of you. Feel free to stop reading. But you can see that there's more here, so are you going to keep reading? Really? That's pretty dedicated. I'm impressed. No, really. I'm not being sarcastic, why do you get like that? See, this is the problem I have with your mother - yes. YES. I'm going there. It's time we put all of our cards on the table.

I love you, why are you doing this? After all we've been through? You don't have to be like this. You know, still reading. You could be baking a pie. And then sharing it with me.

Time Wot It Is

April 2017
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