Never Tiresome (Cakehole Piss X Reader) One Shot

Genuine question and I'm not forcing you to write anything!

Would you ever do a Reader x for painis or cakehole piss?

A/n: I will do it for Cakehole Piss. I know a little more about him.

Never Tiresome (Cakehole Piss x Reader) One Shot

I was home after a stressful day thanks to work. All I wanted to do was get a soda from the fridge and prop my feet up. I felt something was missing from that list. Maybe I forgot to get food? No, I had plenty in the fridge. Whatever it was, it would come back to me later.  I unlocked the door and stepped through some streamers. I was going to let this be and pick it up later. My feet crunched under the decorations. I shuffled my feet all the way into the kitchen. The surprise inside scared me. 

“HEY, WHAT HAPPENED TO THE KITCHEN!” I yelled, entering the messy room. My feet squelched under the mush. The entire kitchen was covered in yellow goo that dripped down from the walls and ceiling. Someone had left a cake in the oven too long and the batter burst. I’ve only seen that in the movies. It would take time to clean this all up. The oven was busted. I’d have to get a new one sometime this week. Cakehole Piss popped his head in. He was a good friend of mine, even though he killed people and came home smelling like blood. He usually cleaned up before entering the house since the smell irritated me. I let him stay at my place while he hid from his counterpart for a while, but he was welcome to come over any time. 

“Oh, that’s my fault,” he said. “Oi left it in there too long.” I didn’t want to be angry with him. He. . . wasn’t exactly the brightest. Some people asked if it was tiresome being around him all the time. I said no. Sure he had tried to carve his creator in the past, but that didn’t really bother me. I also didn’t ask what that was about.

“What were you trying to make?” I calmly asked, grabbing disinfectant wipes. I got down on my knees and started cleaning up the mess. Cakehole rocked back and forth on his toes. That usually meant he was up to something. It could’ve been something good or something bad. Most of the time I was right about it being something bad. Last time he rocked back and forth on his toes, I ended up getting chased by Piss Cakehole.

“Uh. Oi was trying to make something,” he hesitantly answered. I raised an eyebrow. Cakehole’s face turned bright red and he looked away.

“Okay,” I said. “I believe you.” Of course I didn’t really believe him. But I was going to let him think I did. I was going to get to the bottom of this mystery. He left the room and I finished cleaning it up. I heard the T.V turn on followed by some boxes crashing. “Hey! What happened?” I called out, rushing out the door. A few boxes had indeed fallen out of the hallway closet. It was Cakehole. Again. He was rushing to hide some boxes and stuff the other ones back in. I eyed the colorful box behind Cakehole. “What’s that?” I asked, pointing to the box. He put on a shy smile.

“Nothing,” he answered. “Well, nothing important.” I bit my lip and crossed my arms. Cakehole looked nervously at me. “Y/n, do you think Oi’m tiresome?” he asked suddenly. My heart stopped. Not once, in the time we’ve known each other, did he ever ask me that. What sparked it? Was it that I gave off an annoyed, angry vibe? Of course it was that I gave off that vibe. “It’s foine if you wanna kick me out, Oi don’t mind.”

“Cakehole, what’s wrong?” I asked gently. He sighed and pulled the box from behind him. 

“Oi was hoping to save this for later,” he said. It was a (favorite color) wrapped box with rainbow polka dots. There was a tag that read “Happy Birthday,” written in messy handwriting. My heart dropped as I sighed. It made sense now. The streamers and decorations at the front, the cake batter, the presents he was trying to hide. It was my birthday and he was trying to celebrate. But I was cranky and annoyed to notice. This is what I had forgotten. I put on a smile. 

“Cakehole, you will never, ever be tiresome,” I said. “Yeah, there will be days when I seem annoyed. It’s not because of you. Life can be a jerk sometimes. And if you do happen to make me mad,  I would never kick you out.” 

“So, you’re not gonna kick me out?” Cakehole asked. 

“I’d never,” I said, opening my arms wide for a hug. He smiled and hugged me. “So, want some cake? We can’t have a celebration without one?”

*>/<*

I sat at the table as Cakehole brought out a newly baked cake. We improvised by using a blow torch to bake the cake. It worked. I offered to help, but Cakehole wanted to add frosting to the cake by himself. He even added round sprinkles. 

“Happy birthday,” he said with a smile. Just as he was about to put the cake down on the table, it slid off the tray and onto the floor. It fell with a splat. “Oops.” I chuckled softly.

“It’s fine,” I said. “Can’t make a cake without breaking a few eggs.” We ended up ordering a cake from the local bakery. We ate it all and cuddled on the couch with our full stomachs. It was a good birthday.