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Ben Hardy x Reader

A/N: I love binge watching British cooking/baking shows. I love Ben Hardy. This was the result! 

(gif by benhardyispretty)

whenever Ben’s home you guys don’t often cook

thinking its wasting valuable couple time 

he sat with you on the couch while you typed on your computer 

half-assed listening to a cooking competition on the tv 

“He’s going to burn that,” Ben remarks as he passes through 

he was trying to go upstairs but he needed to know if the guy was going to burn his lamb 

he sits on the couch and places a pillow over his lap 

“Y/N, what’s happening?” he asks you 

you look up from your laptop and shrug 

“I don’t know I wasn’t listening.” 

Ben grimaces and leans back 

that was two episodes ago 

“What!” he exclaims, slamming down the pillow in anger 

“Ben what the fuck!” 

“That family shouldn’t have gone home! that tart looked amazing.” 

imagine him yelling at a cooking show in his accent 

I die 

so hot 

You can’t help but laugh 

an idea sparks in his head “Baby let’s cook tonight,” he suggests pulling out his phone to look for recipes 

you look down to your watch “I thought we’re going to that new restaurant tonight?” 

“Not anymore, please Y/N.” 

his green eyes stare into yours 

you can’t resist 

you two digging through the unused and unopened cook wear 

“Why don’t we use this stuff?” he groans looking for a pan. 

his tongue pokes out while he’s cutting vegetables 

seriously imagine him with his sleeves rolled up and has an apron on 

a  blond curl hanging from his forehead 

you Instagram the whole thing 

Joe automatically comments the Ben never cooks for him 

“What is this?” he asks, holding up a silver stick 

“A hand blender, it was a wedding gift from your aunt.” 

“It doesn’t look like a blender...more like a sex toy” 

“BEN! NO”

he’s a confused baby 

“is it done?” 

he asks this like 50 times 

you get a little more irritated with each one 

while you're stirring the vegetables in the pan he likes to wrap his arms around you 

his lips attach to the back of your neck “We should do this more.” 

you hum in response and lean into him 

his hands on your hips 

the best part of it is sitting across from him at the table wriggling in his seat with excitement 

“You did well Mrs. Jones.” he practically moans with every bite 

“You did too, Mr. Jones. I’m surprised.” 

“You know. If acting doesn’t work out I could do this.” 

You roll your eyes 

“Your film got nominated for an Oscar, you’re not going anywhere.” 

he reaches for your hand, rubbing your knuckles lovingly with his thumb.