daddy; B.E. imagines

pumpkin pie

since i'm obsessed with fall time i made this

kinda got this idea from fuckmebil and her bean pie except it's pumpkin pie

THIRD PERSON POV

y/n huffed in agitation, staring down at the burned food below her. it wasn't that bad, just a little crispy around the edges. but then it completely sank in the middle. y/n groaned, propping her elbows up on the counter and messaging her temples. her wife was going to be home any minute, and all she wanted to do was have a nice surprise for her. pumpkin pie was billie's favorite during the fall, and y/n couldn't even get that right.

just as she was about to start the long cleaning process, her ears twitched. she could hear billie jiggling her keys, trying to open the door. y/n looked around at the kitchen, panic filling her. it was a mess. a huge mess. flour was on every surface. cracked eggs were on the floor. pumpkin filling was even on the windows. and she didn't have enough time to clean up because—

"y/n, i—what the hell happened in here?" billie slowly walked into the apartment, afraid that if she got too close that flour would fall on her head or something in the oven would explode.

y/n plastered a huge grin on her face and grabbed the fallen pie, holding it out to her wife.

"i made a cake! or, well, pie." billie raised her eyebrows.

"you made a mess." y/n scowled and shrugged.

"all great chefs make messes."

billie smiled, placing her backpack down on the couch and approached her wife in the kitchen, taking note of all the flour and eggs decorating their counters and appliances and even, the ceiling! how did egg get up there? of all places. billie shook her head, standing in front of y/n from the opposite side of the counter. she couldn't even be mad at her; the mess was awful, but y/n's intent was beautiful.

"so, what'd you make?" billie asked, sitting down on the barstool. y/n hesitated, looking down at the cracked brown supposed-to-be-pie.

"uh, well, it was supposed to be pumpkin pie." she set the plate down on front of billie, who looked down at the treat and tried to hide an amused smirk. y/n rolled her eyes, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"i know it's your favorite and i tried to make it but i'm pretty sure i fucked it up." hurt laced her voice and she avoided billie's gaze.

"hey." billie put her hand over her wife's and gave her a squeeze of reassurance. y/n's eyes flicked to billie's and billie smiled sweetly.

"i'm sure it's going to taste amazing."

y/n rolled her eyes. no matter what, billie would support her. even if it tasted like shit.

"if it doesn't just pretend for me."

billie laughed and picked up a fork, cracking through the first layer of pie and breaking into the goo underneath. she got a bite, and without hesitation shoved it in her mouth. her eyes widened instantly, and y/n was just waiting for her to spit the pie back out, but billie didn't.

"it's good!" she exclaimed.

"wow, you're a good liar." y/n muttered, crossing her arms. billie shook her head.

"no, i'm serious. it's really good, baby." billie got another bite on her fork and extended it to y/n.

skeptically, y/n opened her mouth and accepted the food. her taste buds came to life with pumpkin spice, cinnamon, and nutmeg. it really was delicious. just as y/n opened her mouth for another bite, a huge clump of wet flour fell on billie's head. y/n held her hand over her face to conceal her laughter, but the attempt was poor.

"y/n." billie said evenly, her eyes closed.

"yeah." she giggled.

"clean the kitchen." billie stood, not even attempting to get the goo off her head in fear that it would just smear even more into her hair. she grabbed the pie, and without another word to her wife, billie stomped to the bathroom, leaving y/n standing in the wake of a food hurricane.

"at least the pie is good!" y/n called.

a very quiet fuck you came from their bathroom.

y/n continued to laugh, even as flour and eggs fell on top of her head.

___________________________________

3 DAYS OMFG

I KINDA HATE THIS BUT WHATEVER

I LOVE YOUUU