One-shot Imagines

Dripping Batter (Bf/n Smut)

"Y/n, we talked about this. I have to be here. I'll see you soon. I love you," Bf/n said flatly, waiting for me to answer.

I didn't.

"Y/n." He called.

"I love you," I mumbled with a pout he couldn't see. He then ended the call.

Taking all the ingredients I needed, I started making the batter. Pablo circled my feet, and I nearly tripped over him several times. I should have left him outside. He barked loudly several times at my phone.

"I know. He's being rude." I grumbled. Bf/n hardly ever took days off.

Pablo yapped once again as if to agree. I love him very much. But sometimes? Pablo can be more than questionable.

My hands were covered in flour, my baby hairs falling into my face. I wiped them away with my knuckles and poured the batter into the circular pan. I was on the second cake now. The time? 11:42.

Bf/n still wasn't home. Nothing new. He was coming home later and later.

Pablo was curled up in the cute striped bed I bought for him a couple of days ago. I have had so much free time lately, that I could do whatever I wanted without worrying about how much time I would have left to do things.

"There. All done. Now one left to go." I smiled, moving my hair behind my ears not to bother me. My apron was so dirty from the ingredients I had been using. I greased the next pan while the one I had just taken from the other cooled and poured the batter into it.

Why could I smell something burning?

"Shit, the sauce." I cursed. Multi-tasking was not one of my better talents. Yet I did it all the time.

Bf/n's spaghetti couldn't be burnt. It's his favourite food. I quickly dropped the rubber spatula and rushed over to stir it. Thank the tomato gods it was still okay. I took the pot off the stove, grabbed a bigger pot, and mixed it in with the spaghetti. The oven beeped now too, telling me the door was open.

"What are you up to, hm?" A low voice whispered into my ear. I flinched, grabbing the wooden spatula I had near and holding it up, pushing the man away.

"Oh- baby!" I threw the kitchen tool in the sink and hopped into his arms. He smiled and pecked my nose.

"You were going to smack me with the spatula?"

Bf/n chuckled at me. I shook my head no.

But yes, I was going to hit whoever was behind me across the head painfully with the tool. And I would like it.

Wait-

"Let me clean myself up. I'll be back, love." He left again. I mimicked him and poured the batter of the second cake into the pan, then put on oven mitts to slide it into the oven.

Onto the third cake. I stirred and stirred, dumped and measured. It felt like Bf/n hadn't even come back yet.

Then I saw him finally return. He started making himself a coffee, wearing only pyjama pants and wandering around with wet hair.

I missed you too.

I turned off the stove, as the food was done cooking. Now I had to mix the dry ingredients into the wet. Everything was going smoothly. I hadn't done anything wrong, and the cakes were looking great. They smelled delicious. I used the whisk to stir it all together with tired hands when some of the batter splattered off the tool in every direction. A huge lump of it dripped into the gap between my breasts. I suppose my apron didn't catch that.

"Can I try some of the cake?" My boyfriend pleaded, sitting at the counter still and lifting his mug for a sip of his beverage, his eyes on me as he waited for an answer.