Imagines with ed sheeran

cupcakes

"I can't believe I'm actually letting you in here" I fumble with the set of keys, trying to find the one that will unlock the bright pink door to the front of my cupcakery.

This building, this business is my pride and joy. Ever since I was 16, I wanted nothing more than to just spend my entire life baking. When I turned 18, I found an investor, who wanted nothing more than to eat my cupcakes for the rest of his life, and I opened up The Cupcake Shoppe. This has been my life ever since.

I find the key, push open the door and turn on the lights. It's 2am. The streets outside are dead. The early morning is pitch black in contrast to the bright fluorescent lighting in this building. The floors are hot pink checkered floors, like an old 60's diner, with a tables and chairs set up, all in front of the cupcake display by the register that houses a daily lot of over 100 cupcakes, 5 flavors each.

"it's so....pink." he says, smiling, while biting the side of his thumb, "So this is what you do all day?"

"This is what I do all day." I nod, motioning towards the door, "Come on."

I lead him to the back of the building, through the hot pink double doors to the kitchen. Inside, a 5 gallon stainless steel mixer, a wall made completely out of ovens, a walk in fridge and freezer, and a 12 by 3 foot counter top.

"okay we definitely need to get one of these for our house" he says, opening the door to the walk in fridge, basking in the glory of how big it is, and how many sweets were in it, "I could live in here."

"I love you, but I'm going to have a hard time loving you if you weigh 500 pounds" I say, "I can't work a crane, my hands are too small"

"that hurts" he exclaims dramatically, his hand over his heart, "that really hurts."

"I think it's cute that you're thinking about our house. Not your house, or my house, but our house" I smile at him, "Can we have a trampoline too?"

"you read my mind, lady" he replies, running his hands over all of the cans of refrigerated ingredients.

"alright, out of the fridge," I say motioning him out, "we have work to do."

"fine," he huffs, "but I want to go back in there later."

"Ed Sheeran" I say in my best interview voice, "I hear you make some mean fajitas. But how do you feel about cupcakes?"

"well" he says, clearing his throat, "I can't bake for shit, but I have this really incredible girlfriend whose cupcakes are almost as good as sex"

"good answer" I nod in agreement, "the more important question is, are you ready to be my slave for the next few hours?"

"am I getting paid for this?" he asks, raising an eyebrow

"maybe in sexual favors" I shrug, smiling

"then sign me up" he laughs, walking towards me, wrapping his arms around my waist, lips attaching themselves to my neck, "I'll work for however long you want me to, overtime, over night, I'm yours."

"easy there, lover boy" I laugh, putting my hands on his chest, pushing him away, "I will pay you anyway you want, as long as you can help me get 500 cupcakes out in the display by 6am."

"Deal!" he practically screams.

I put Ed on cupcake duty, only because I'm pretty sure he can handle measuring things and mixing them together...that is, until he goes to turn the mixer on.

"high speed?" He asks, hitting the switch.

I couldn't get out a coherent NO before he turned it on, sending wet ingredients everywhere, all over him, all over the floor, the walls, the ceiling, everything.

"jesus, haven't you ever seen what happens when you turn on a blender without the lid?" I ask, pulling the plug on the mixer.

I turn to Ed, noticing he's covered in cupcake batter. And I can't help but start laughing.

"nope" he can't help but laugh either.

"and that was a good batch too" I wipe some batter from his cheek, putting it in my mouth.

"I'm tasty" he laughs, quickly scooping me up in his arms, covering me in batter as well. I try to fight him off because I find no pleasure in being covered in batter, but he's stronger than I am and it ends up with the both of us on the ground, covered in cupcake ingredients, struggling to breathe due to our fits of laughter, "and now we're both tasty."

"see, I really shouldn't have let you in here" I manage to get out between laughs.

"listen if you didn't want to get messy, or laugh so hard you cry, or have me all over you all the time, you shouldn't have entered this relationship" he argues, "you should have picked someone less eccentric and less good looking."

"What am I going to do with you?" I asked shaking my head.

"something dirty, hopefully," he replies, winking at me before getting up to help me clean up the mess.