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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

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Hi!! I loved the piece you just wrote, tysm :D I’d like to request another George Karim x reader where the reader lives next door & brings the group lots of baked goods. They’re very friendly but a huge airhead. They love listening to the groups ghost adventures and new finds even if they don’t understand it. Thank you !! 👾

“What’s in the tuppaware?” Lucy asked as she lead you into kitchen, practically hovering over your shoulder as you placed the container onto the table. “Look at you being all nosy.” You teased, barely needed to look over your shoulder because of how close she was that all you needed to do was glance out from the corner of your eye and there she was. “I wouldn’t be so nosy had you just opened the bloody thing.” Lucy whined, the weight of her head now pressing down upon your shoulder, eyes transfixed on the white container with tissued insides acting as cushions for whatever was inside.

It was entertaining, seeing your friend this desperate to get a good gander inside the container that you had brought into 35 Portland Row with such care and caution, that it must’ve planted an idea inside her head that whatever it was, it must’ve been of great value. Lucy doubted it was anything like an family heirloom and even if it was, why would you carry it about with you inside a container used primarily for food and such? So when you finally cracked open the container, revealing the contents to Lucy and what she saw didn’t disappoint as she groaned in euphoria when the sweet smell of baked goods came up to tempt her senses.

Inside the container was an inlaid assortment of tarts, lemon cakes, white chocolate and raspberry cookies, scones, cherry bakewells and mini muffins. All of which mingled together smelt sickly sweet but in the most pleasant way possible. “When did you have time to make all of this?!” Lucy exclaimed, not knowing where to put her eyes as all of the treats before her looked just as appealing as the one before and the one before that; there was so many choices and she wanted to try them all if she weren’t going to be forced to share them with two other boys who had just now walked into the kitchen from the library after having heard Lucy’s exclamations.

“Y/n why is Lucy screaming like a dying chicken?” George asked as he loomed over your other shoulder just as Lucy gave his arm a firm smack. “Hey, I do not sound like a dying cow.” She defended herself before looking back to you, “do I?” Your eyes widened as you were quick to pluck a treat at random from the container and placing it in her hand, leaving Lucy a little confused as to why you put a cherry bakewell in her hand. “Try it.” You tell her with a smile, nudging George firmly in the side when you heard him snort and shooting Lockwood an glare when seeing him trying not to laugh before looking back to Lucy who ate the cherry bakewell in just two bites. “This is so fucking good.” She groans, licking the crumbs from her fingers. “What’s the occasion?”

You shrugged, “no occasion, I just wanted to do something nice for all of you considering the cases you guys had been taking on lately have only become increasingly more dangerous…I just don’t want you doing anything or getting into you’ll regret later on.” Lucy, Lockwood and George’s eyes softened at your words, they understood where you were coming from. Lately the trio haven’t been able to take proper care of themselves, so much so that they were frequently skipping breakfast so often that they had to nab something to eat while they were out as a substitute; Their sleep schedules didn’t fare any better either, only getting at least a couple hours in before they were out the door again.

They weren’t given the time to stop and think about how you were effected in all this, being forced to seeing your friends practically running themselves ragged on a daily basis to the point you rarely saw them. “I’m sorry you have to see all that y/n/n.” Lockwood said softly but you waved him off with a smile, “it’s fine, it’s not your fault,” you then look to Lucy and George, “it’s none of yours fault for simply doing your job. I just didn’t want you guys going hungry. So please indulge yourself.” You finished, gesturing to the container as George and Lockwood picked out a lemon cake and strawberry tart respectively.

“You’re a saint y/n.” Lockwood said through a mouthful, earning a sharp nudge from Lucy. “Did nobody teach you that it’s disrespectful to talk with a mouthful?” She hissed and Lockwood just shrugged before reaching for a mini muffin, Lucy sighed and turned to you and George with a look that clearly read ‘do you believe this guy?’ Only to then reach for sneaky seconds herself. That gave you a little chuckle. “Lockwood’s right you known, they’re really good.” George said, finishing off the rest of his lemon cake. “I’m sure you could’ve made them a lot better then I did.” You told him, feeling a little overwhelmed by the compliments you were receiving.

“Are you kidding? I know I’m a greet cook and all but at least give yourself some credit.” He told you, holding out a lemon cake in his palm for you to take -which you did out of curtesy- as you both watched as Lucy and Lockwood filled their cheeks with baked goods; trying your hardest not to burst out laughing when George whispered to you cheekily that they looked like chipmunks stuffing their cheeks with nuts for the winter, which made you let out a hearty laugh much too Lucy’s and Lockwood’s joint confusion. Only someone like George could withdraw a laugh like that from you but whether he knew that or not, you’d refuse to tell him in fear of inflating his ego.

With the container of baked goods now emptied with the exception of a few crumbs, you, Lucy, George and Lockwood moved to the seating area with your respective mugs of tea and a packet of pre-bought biscuits, exchanging funny stories concerning past cases. Your talents weren’t on par with theirs but that didn’t mean you weren’t ignorant towards their work. Besides it was kind hard to be ignorant or blind to it all, considering the fact that the problem was still a conversation still being had to this day, long after it’s original emergence. Yet you weren’t as well versed as Lucy, George and Lockwood were, seeing as they were pushed into it by the adults in their lives while you got a semi-normal life experience.

“Remember that case with the type one over at mrs Jacobs?” Lucy asked from beside you on the sofa, watching with a sense of amendment when Lockwood and George groaned, synchronising their bodies sinking into their deep armchairs. “What happened at mrs Jacobs?” You inquired, looking between the trio, curious of the context. Lockwood pinched the skin between his brow as though to relive himself of an headache as he began to iterate the story. “Basically we got called up to investigate what was suspected as a type one in the case file but as it turns out it was just raccoon in the attic making all the ruckus. We went home empty handed that day.”

“Ha!” You balked, feeling the need to put your mug down on the coffee table to away the tears from your eyes. “A raccoon?” You asked as your voice took an octave higher then normal from how hard you were laughing over a small misconception. “Yep. A raccoon.” George echoed, “didn’t help that the little guy was rummaging through some storage boxes and when he heard us coming. Poor guy was stuck beneath a magicians hat… it took us a total of five minutes to get it off and escort it out of the house.” He added, smiling when he saw you holding your stomach, probably visualising your friends trailing after a raccoon scampering across the attic misguidedly from underneath a magicians hat for a majority of the night.

“Oh! What about that one time Lockwood slipped in a puddle of ectoplasm.” Lucy jumped in, wanting to see how hard they could make you laugh before you called it quits because your ribs and stomach were hurting from continuous laughter. “You did!” You and George exclaimed, both looking over at Lockwood who looked about ready to die on the spot from the sudden attention brought his way. “Yes I did.” he sighed, mentally wondering where he went wrong for Lucy to spill a secret he thought they promised to keep in confidentiality. “Besides what about the time that ghost knocked George’s glasses off?” He then added when the memory came to him so suddenly, causing George to sink further into his deep arm chair when he felt your overly curious eyes turn on him.

“You’re only bringing that up because you’ve got nothing embarrassing against Lucy!” He exclaimed, not wanting to recall how Lockwood has to keep the type two occupied whilst he rummaged for his glasses; especially not in front of you of all people. This continued another while longer before it became past curfew for you to go home until Lucy insisted you’d sleep the night up in the attic with her upon the air mattress they kept…somewhere. Over all the day was well spent and there was nowhere else you’d rather spend it then with your dearest of friends.

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