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daddyyy88 · 2 years ago

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Take it | Eddie Munson x inexperienced!y/n

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 4.8k

warnings: smut, inexperienced reader, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, ?

summary: Eddie and inexperienced!reader have sex for the first time

requested by: @wdsara48

Eddie Munson is so in love with you. He’s obsessed with you and never stops thinking about you. Your pretty doe eyes, your soft hair, your perfect body, your soft skin, all of it. He absolutely loved being greeted by you everyday after work with a hug and a kiss. He loved hearing you talk about your day whilst you animated it all with your hands, sort of like he does.

He was so in love with you and he didn’t want to fuck things up, so he decided he wouldn’t have sex with you immediately because all his past relationships were more about sex than anything else. It works in his favor, he’s never felt more connected to someone and he loves you more than anything, more than his guitar or his music.

But now, he can’t handle it anymore. You’re too beautiful and he’s itching to make you moan his name and cum around his dick till the sun rises. All you’re doing is cooking dinner, but the way your shorts are hugging your ass and the way he can see your nipples through your tank top is making it hard for him to concentrate on what you’re saying.

Suddenly, your boobs are practically bouncing in his face as you walk over to him with a spoon in your hand. You blew on it softly before putting it to his lips and his eyes widened before he ate some of the sauce you were currently working on for pasta.

“Mm…it’s good, baby” he said and smiled, licking his lips. You chuckled and pecked his lips softly, scurrying back over to the stove. Not before getting your ass slapped really fucking hard by your stupid boyfriend.

“Owww! Eddie, that hurt!” You said and rubbed your ass, giggling. He laughed and said “I couldn’t help it. Not when it’s jiggling right in front of my face” You blushed and rolled your eyes, finishing up dinner.

God, you were so gorgeous. He was so close to getting up and bending you over the counter, fucking into you like a wild animal. Or at the very least putting you onto the counter and eating you out till you were begging him to stop.

You somehow didn’t notice his staring and still mostly full plate as you ate dinner and continued telling him about your new project at work and how you think it might get you a promotion if you do really really well with it.

He eventually caught up and finished most of his dinner, complimenting the chef of course. He was going to wash the dishes for you but when he came back from the bathroom you were already doing it.

He went to the bedroom instead, already halfway to a boner when he saw your hair in a messy bun you threw up to keep it out of the way. He palmed his half hard cock, groaning softly as he thought about how pretty your tits probably looked, and how good you’d taste.

He sat down on the bed, flopping onto his back as he sighed heavily. He didn’t want to push things too far but at the same time he wanted you so bad. Wanted to kiss every inch of you, lick all over your tits, down to your- shit, he’s really fucking hard now.

He heard the little patter of your feet down the hallway and sat up, trying to hide his raging boner. “Hi, baby,” you said and smiled, slipping your shorts off since that’s how you liked to sleep. Of course you were wearing the cheekiest pair of underwear you own, it was practically a thong.

He smiled at you and watched as you sat in front of his mirror and took off the light makeup you put on for work this morning, your tits jiggling as you moved your arms. “Stop staring, you weirdo…” you said and blushed as you put on some moisturizer and called it a day.

“I can’t…not when you’re so gorgeous, babe” he said and you giggled. You got up and walked over to him and he pulled you onto his lap, making you gasp and giggle. His dick twitched at how cute you sounded, how your pretty eyes looked directly into his.

He kissed you for a few seconds before saying “I love you so much” You blushed hard, you’d never get used to hearing that from Eddie. You giggled and shifted a little, feeling something poke at your inner thigh.

“I love you more,” you said softly and played with his hair. You looked down and said “Ed’s, somethings poking me…” “‘m sorry baby,” he said and pushed you back on his upper thighs instead, how did you not know what that was?

You traced the tattoos on his chest, smiling as you looked into his pretty doe eyes. You shifted up again, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him again. “Babe…” he said and groaned, squeezing your hips.

You pulled away a few seconds later and said “what’s wrong?” He could tell you were nervous, thinking you had done something wrong. He cleared his throat and said “I- i-it’s just uhm…y-you’re like really pretty, you know? And it’s uh…it’s doing things to me, baby”

Your eyes widened and you looked down, gasping as you noticed he was rock hard. You really were an idiot. “O-Oh…” you said and he chuckled at how shocked you were. You tried to get off and he said “baby…”

You stopped then, a little embarrassed as you weren’t sure what to do. “I need you…please?” He asked, caressing your cheek lightly. You let out a shaky breath, wondering if this was the right time. Of course you wanted this, of course you wanted Eddie more than anything but you were scared you were gonna mess it up.

You leaned forward and kissed him, trying to grind your hips on his cock. You felt him moan and groan into your mouth a few times and you smiled. He had his hands on your waist, squeezing and caressing lightly and nearly touching your boobs.

You noticed him trying to take off your shirt and you pulled back, panting softly. “Wait- w-wait…” you said and he immediately stopped, resting his hands on your thighs instead. He caressed your thighs softly and said “what’s wrong?”

“I…I-I uhm- I kind of don’t k-know how to do this” you admitted, your voice shaky as his eyes widened. He nodded softly and said “I-I thought you said you weren’t a virgin”

“I mean I-…I’ve had sex before. But it wasn’t that great. The first time he finished in literally 5 thrusts and the 2nd time the guy was drunk and kept falling asleep inside of me and the 3rd time the guy’s mom caught us…” you said and Eddie winced.

You looked down and he cupped your cheek, forcing you to look back up. “Hey, I’m truly sorry that you’ve never had good sex, I mean look at you you deserve it” he said and you giggled. He really did feel bad, how could any guy who got the chance to do something like that with you fuck it up so bad and be okay with it.

You bit your lip and he said “if you don’t want to do anything just yet that’s fine, you know. I-I can take care of this and we can just cuddle up together like we always do” “no- n-no, I…I want this” you said and Eddie sighed.

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and said “y/n…I’m not going to have sex with you just because you’re too afraid to say no. If you’re not ready, that’s okay” “I am ready…I want this, Eddie I’m just- I-I’m nervous. I don’t know how to do any of this, really” you said and he kissed your head softly.

He cupped your cheeks and said “we’ll go slow. We don’t have to do anything crazy, you know. I’m even okay just making you feel good for now if you need” “No I want you,” you said and he chuckled. You sighed and he said “okay, okay, baby. I’ll do most of the work so you can relax. You just gotta tell me what feels good and what you want me to do”

You nodded and said “okay…” He kissed you softly, moving your legs to wrap around his hips. He stood up and set you down on the bed, smiling down at you. He pulled off his shirt and got back on the bed.

He tapped your thigh and said “how about you spread these for me? How’s that sound, hmm?” You blushed and slowly opened your legs, planting your feet on either side of him. He laid himself between your legs, leaning down and kissing you softly.

“You know what a safe word is?” He asked and you looked up at him with a look of confusion flashed on your face. He wanted to chuckle at how adorable you looked but held back.

“When we’re doing anything, even just some foreplay and it starts to feel too painful or too uncomfortable or you suddenly don’t want to keep going anymore I want you to use your safe word to tell me okay? During sex, most people will say “don’t stop”, and “it’s too much” when they sorta don’t mean it so this word makes sure I don’t hurt you or do something you don’t like. What word do you have in mind, pretty girl?” He said and you sighed.

You shrugged and said “white” He couldn’t help but laugh a little as he said “white?” “Well, it’s your least favorite color. You always say it’s so boring. Plus I’m a little too focused on you right now to have proper brain function” you giggled and he shook his head. He kissed you again, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip.

He smiled into the kiss, slowly making out with you just to let you adjust to all of this and mentally prepare yourself. Soon, you were squirming slightly and whimpering and he knew you were getting impatient.

He tugged at your shirt and you let out a shaky breath, nodding. “Are you sure? We can stop at any time, babe” you nodded and he slowly pulled your shirt off, jaw dropping as he truly saw your boobs for the first time. Sure he’d seen your see-through shirts and what not but it was nothing like seeing them completely bare.

You quickly got insecure, trying to hide yourself. “Please, don’t. I just need to look” he said and you bit your lip nervously. He kissed your neck a few times, suckling lightly on your sweet spot once he found it.

He noticed you weren’t sure what to do with your hands so he grabbed them and moved them above your head, intertwining your fingers as he nuzzled into your neck, peppering kisses all over it. The mewls and moans you let out were music to his ears and it’s all he wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

He moved down slowly, waiting for you to stop him but you didn’t so he continued till he got to your breasts. He moved your hands so they were grabbing the pillow above you instead and used his to squeeze your tits, kitten licking your nipple.

“Mm- mmm” you said, squirming a little. “Is this alright, baby?” He asked and you nodded furiously. You chuckled and said “it feels good I just- I-I’ve never felt that before” He shook his head and leaned down again, suckling on your nipple slightly before licking it again.

He spent a few moments kissing and licking and occasionally biting on your boobs to help ease your nerves before he started to move down, kissing between the valley of your breasts before making his way down your stomach. He caressed your waist as he kissed down your belly, stopping at the hem of your underwear.

“Can I take these off?” Eddie asked you, cute chocolate button eyes looking up from between your legs practically. You looked down at him and nodded, he noticed your breath hitch a little as you did.

He bit his lip and then kissed right under your belly button before grabbing the hem of your underwear with his teeth, dragging it down your legs before pulling it off and stuffing it in his back pocket. Your eyes widened and he chuckled as he said “I don’t think I’m gonna be giving those back for a while.

You blushed a deep red and he did nothing to help as he peppered kisses on your inner thighs, noticing how wet you already were. He pressed a kiss to your clit, chuckling as you jolted slightly.

As much as he wanted to devour you, he also wanted to truly go as slow as possible to make this the best experience of your life. He sat up and moved so he was sort of on top of you again, one hand caressing your inner thigh.

You look up at him with glossy eyes as you squirm and whimper, begging for something to ease the ache between your legs. He smiled as he slowly played with your hole, getting some of your slick on his fingers and teasing your clenching hole.

“Already tryin’ to squeeze me and I’m not even inside. So desperate,” he said quietly and you giggled, quickly being cut off as you rubbed your clit almost perfectly. “A-Ahh! Eddie, oh my- mmm” you moaned, hands flying up and grabbing onto him, digging your nails into his waist and bicep.

“Feels good huh, baby?” He asked, feeling you relax into the pleasure. Your clit twitched hard, telling him that you were only clenching harder as he worked you up. He kissed you, swallowing your moans as he got ready to push his fingers in.

“Ready, baby?” He asked and you whimpered. You groaned and said “ready for wha-” You nearly yelled when he slipped both fingers in, glad that he was right. The stretch only increased your pleasure, making you squeeze him with your hands harder than before.

He thrusted his fingers a few times, then curling them to find your g-spot. You gasped, holding your breath as he did, eyebrows furrowing as you tried not to move because fuck that felt so good. He kissed your cheek softly and said “need you to breathe for me, babe”

You whimpered and let go of the breath you didn’t actually realize you were holding, panting hard as you felt the pleasure electrocute your entire body. You whined as he found this most perfect spot, your legs shaking and your moans loud and mostly just screams of his name.

Your hands moved along his upper body frantically, trying to ground yourself as you felt a tightening in your pussy like no other. You broke skin as you dug your nails hard into his shoulders, incoherent whines of “I-I think I- Uhh! I’m gonna- I’m cumming!! Eddie, Eddie oh god! Fuck!” coming out.

“Yeah, babe, let me see you cum for me. Come on, give it to me, pretty girl” he said and whined. Your back arched and you couldn’t help but hold your breath as you felt the coil snap, your pussy clenching hard and fast. You groaned, legs shaking so hard you couldn’t keep your feet flat on the bed anymore. You tried closing them around his hand to stop it but it only made your whole body shake instead. “Eddie! Fuck- oh god- oh my god!” You moaned as your mouth formed an ‘O’ shape, brows furrowed as the pleasure consumed you.

Watching you cum because of him nearly took him out. You looked so hot, so needy as you moaned his name and came on his fingers. He peppered kisses on your forehead and cheeks as you calmed down, slowly slipping his fingers out and letting you relax for a moment.

You panted softly, pressing your hands to his chest as you looked up at him. “T-That was…that was i-incredible” you said and he chuckled. He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked your juices off of them, groaning at the taste.

“There’s more where that came from, sweetheart,” he said and you giggled. He gently brushed your hair out of your face and said “you look so pretty like this,” You blushed softly and pulled Eddie down for a kiss. He grabbed both of your hands, intertwining them before he made his way down your body again until he was in between your legs. He looked up at you and locked eyes, silently asking for permission. You nodded and squeezed his hand, a little nervous if you were being honest.

He made sure to hold eye contact with you as he licked a fat strip up your pussy, massaging your clit with it once he got to it. You gasped Eddie’s name, squeezing hands lightly as your pussy clenched around nothing.

He smiled and put one of your legs on his shoulders, putting one of your hands on his hair before he began to practically makeout with your pussy. He squeezed your thigh, groaning at how good you taste.

He slipped his tongue into your pussy, making you gasp as you tried to get away from the pleasure. He continued moaning and groaning into your pussy, snaking his hand upwards to push down on your hips. “Mmh- oh o-oh god, Eddie!” You said nearly breathless.

He smiled as he continued exactly what he was doing, your harsh grip on his hand telling him he’d already found your g spot. You were able to move your hips just enough that it caught your clit on his nose and you gasped, subconsciously holding your breath.

He wanted to let you cum, but he didn’t want you to hold your breath and he felt like an asshole but he had to stop. “My love, you need to breathe” he said and you whined. You sighed harshly, breathing heavily as you said “d-don’t stop!”

You pushed his head lightly and he shook his head, burying his face in your pussy once again. He continued the same movements, smirking when you started making the same noises again.

“It’s so good…so- mmm! Uhh!” You moaned and he caressed your hip, feeling you clench around his tongue. You gasped, broke whimpers and mewls leaving your mouth fast as you felt the coil snapping.

“Eddie- fuck!” You moaned and cried out as you felt an immense pressure in your bladder all of a sudden. Your eyes widened and you said “Eddie- Eddie ah- shit, I think I-I have to pee!”

He smirked, holding your hips down as best you could. He kept going even though you tried to stop him, and a few moments later you couldn’t handle it and you let go. You practically screamed as you orgasmed, the breath knocked out of you as you started squirting.

You squeezed your thighs around his head, leaving him trapped. Not that he minded. “Haaggh! U-Ughh! Eddie!” You moaned and he grunted into your pussy, rutting into the bed slightly. Tears streamed down your face as you came, a small sob leaving your lips.

You eventually released Eddie, panting hard as you whimpered at how sensitive you were. Even him breathing on your pussy was making you want to squirm. He slowly sat up and chuckled, massaging your shaky thighs.

“W-Why didn’t you stop? That was gross, Eddie” you said and he furrowed his eyebrows. He scoffed and said “what are you talking about? That was the hottest thing you’ve ever done” “pissing on your face?” You asked and he chuckled, realizing you didn’t even know.

“Babe y-…you squirted” he said and laughed. Your eyes widened and you said “what? That’s not- what does that even mean?” “I don’t actually know, it’s just something girls can do. And it’s the hottest thing ever” he said.

You smiled a little, mind still pretty hazy from everything. He got on top of you again, resting in between your legs as he brushed your hair out of your face and kissed all over your face.

You giggled and said “Eddie…” “you’re so pretty” he said and you smiled. You looked up at him and said “kiss me,” He grinned and happily obliged. He caressed your cheek and you smiled, wrapped your arms around him.

“You know, I think it’s pretty unfair that I’m completely naked and you're not” you said, playing with his hair. He instantly stood up at the edge of the bed, slipping his pants and his boxers down in one swift move.

Your eyes widened as you saw him, jaw dropping slightly. He was thick, really thick, and he looked big too. He heard you whimper and he looked up with concerned eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, a little embarrassed because maybe you found him unattractive. You looked him in his eyes and said “I-I just…I’ve never seen one that big. Certainly never taken one that big” you said and chuckled nervously.

He shook his head, trying to suppress the ego boost. He crawled on top of you again and said “it’s okay. We’re gonna go slow, remember?” You nodded, biting your lip. You spread your legs wider and he smiled, rubbing the tip through your wet folds.

You mewled softly when he gently massaged your clit, just the light stimulation alone making you clench. He reached for some lube in the nightstand next to the bed and squirted some onto his hand, warming it up a little before getting his dick nice and wet.

He planted one hand next to your head, the other holding his rock hard cock at the base and guiding it to line up with your pretty pink hole. He chuckled and said “are you okay?” “Yea, yea…I-I really want this, Ed’s” you said and he took a deep breath through his nose, leaning down to press a kiss to your soft pink lips.

He then pressed his cock right against your other soft pink lips and said “you ready? Just gonna put the tip in, okay?” You nodded and he slowly pushed in, just the tip, just like he said.

He knew it’d probably been more than a year since you last had sex and judging by your reaction to seeing him for the first time, you probably weren’t going to be able to take him all at once. You gasped softly and grabbed his shoulders, eyebrows furrowing as your pussy clenched around the little bit of him that was inside.

“More, Eddie, more!” You said and his eyes widened slightly. He watched your facial expressions as he continued to push in further, and a slightly pained whimper made him stop. “Yea, fucking take it, baby,” he chuckled “You okay?” He asked and you let out a shaky breath.

“It’s- i-it’s big, Eddie” you said and he kissed your forehead. He moved his hand from his cock to your clit, massaging in your little bundle of nerves to help ease you open for him. You sighed, throwing your head back into the pillow as you moaned and mewled.

He pushed in a little more and you moaned even louder, making him smirk to himself. “How much?” You asked and he looked down. He smiled and said “half” “shut up. That’s only half?” You asked and he chuckled.

You grinned and said “I want it all, Eddie. Now,” you said and his eyes widened. You laughed slightly and he couldn’t help the moan that escaped as you clenched slightly. Your eyes widened as you said “what?” “You’re squeezin’ me babe,” he said and you rolled your eyes, cupping his cheeks.

You bit your lip and said “Eddie…” He kissed you as he pushed in all the way, you could barely take him all the way to the base. You pulled away from the kiss, gasping as you let out a loud moan of his name.

Your eyes fluttered closed and your eyebrows furrowed, you felt so full. Full of Eddie. He slowly pulled back and thrusted into you again, pulling the most pornographic moans from you. He did it again and your back arched slightly as he brushed your g-spot.

“Feel alright, babe?” He asked, grunting at how tight you felt. You whimpered and said “you’re so- s-so big, Eddie. It’s so good- mmm, babe!” He started to thrust at an even pace, pressing your foreheads together.

You arched your back slightly, not caring about how loud you were because fuck this felt so good. You’d never felt anything like this and you never wanted it to end. He wrapped his arm around you, thrusting harder as your moans grew louder and louder.

“Eddie!” You cried, scratching his back slightly as he hit the perfect spot. He grunted and said “yea, feels good, huh? Look so pretty when I fuck you, you know that?” You mewled, kissing him softly as he grabbed your hand, pressing it on your lower stomach.

You gasped as you felt your lower stomach bulge every time he thrusted. He chuckled and put his hand over yours, pushing it down which made you groan. You whimpered, tears filling your eyes as the pleasure consumed you.

Your whole body was on fire as your 3rd orgasm built up, and you tears were rolling down your face with how intense everything was. “Harder, Eddie!” You begged, groaning as your legs began to shake again.

“Babe…fuck, you’re amazing” he said and you mewled. You bit your lip and said “I’m gonna cum E-Eddie- ohh fuck!” “H-Hold on, baby. Let me cum with you, yea?” He said and you whimpered, trying to hold back.

“Haggghh! I can’t- it’s too much!” You said, sobbing a little. You moaned loud as you couldn’t help it, letting go and squirting all over his lower stomach. You moaned wildly as your third orgasm washed over you, nearly knocking the wind out of you.

Eddie grunted, shuddering as his orgasm hit him like a train and he didn’t have time to control himself before he painted your pretty pink walls white with his cum. “Shitshitshit- fuck! Uhhh” he groaned, squeezing your hip as he thrusted extra hard till the tip kissed your cervix, cumming harder than he ever has before.

Both of you panted hard as you came down from the incredible highs of your orgasms, clinging onto each other. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry babe I didn’t mean to” Eddie apologized quickly, cupping your cheek.

You whimpered weakly and he pulled his forhead from yours, realizing your practically asleep after that last orgasm. “Babe? Hey, you okay?” He asked and you opened your eyes just enough to see him.

He smiled and you said “im okay,” You looked adorable, swollen red lips in a pout as you fought to keep your eyes open. He pecked your lips and said “I’m sorry that I…you know,”

“It’s- i-it’s fine. I’m on birth control” you said and he furrowed his eyebrows. You giggled and he winced, his dick sensitive now. He caressed your cheek as he said “since when?” “since that time at the hideout…” you said and he smiled. You two almost had sex two months ago after one of his shows but ended up getting interrupted before you could actually get there.

He shook his head and pecked your lips once again. He slowly pulled out, making your take a deep breath to make it easier for you. You squirmed slightly as you felt his cum spill out of you, sighing softly as you finally relaxed, your back laying flat against the bed and your head hitting the pillow.

“Everything okay?” He asked and you nodded. You smiled and said “I’m okay, handsome. Promise,” “I’m just worried about you, sue me” he said and squeezed your thigh, kissing your head before he got up to clean himself off.

He came back into the room and woke you up gently, helping you to the bathroom so you could rinse yourself off. You whined about it for a few minutes, just wanting to sleep. He giggled to himself as you leaned all your weight against him practically, legs still shaky.

He brought you some water and changed the sheets for you, leaving you to fall asleep as he threw your clothes in the laundry too. He crawled into bed with you, and of course you woke up instantly being the lightest sleeper to exist. “Shh, shhh” he said, running his hands through your hair.

“Mmm” you groaned and he hummed, kissing your head. You turned over cuddling into his chest. “I love you” you said, smiling. He chuckled and said “I love you too” “was talking to your dick” you mumbled and he scoffed.

“Get off of me,” he said, jokingly. He lightly shoved you away, making you giggle. You curled into his chest once more, nuzzling your head into him. He giggled and kissed your head.

“I love you too, I guess” you said and he chuckled. He rubbed your back and said “yea, you better”

Taglist: @readsalot73 @hellfire1986baby

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x inexperienced!reader

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tvhsleb3ww · 9 months ago

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NEW IDEAS - MIYA OSAMU

short bf samu drabble 🍚

"whaddya think?"

he asks and wipes his hands with a small handkerchief as he leans on the spot on the counter next to you. his eyes gazing at you as he awaits your response.

"is it too salty? does it taste weird?"

he bombards you with questions and you muffled out something.

"mmfh, iwts- dhwood hmmf"

he chuckles as he puts a hand on the small of your back, leaning down to your height.

"sorry, love. finish it first then answer ma questions, kay?"

you nodded and continued to bite down the new onigiri recipe he had created. he smiles as he sees you enjoying his new onigiri recipe that he has been experimenting for the past couple of days.

you swallowed the last part of the onigiri.

"tastes amazing, samu!"

you exclaimed excitedly as he just grinned. his arms crossed as he looks at your messy lips.

"ya say that to everythin' i make. how am i supposed to know if i should sell it or na?"

he chuckles and wipes the rice stuck on your lips with his thumb, making you snicker at the sudden touch.

"can't help it, everything you make is good"

you grinned up at him and he just cups your cheeks with his hands.

"a might actually just make a new menu specially for ya"

he grins and presses his lips against your forehead to which you just smiled and enjoyed his lips on your skin.

"but i'm bein' serious ere'. a need some new stuff for ma shop. can't let it go bankrupt, yeah? or else ain't no one gonna spoil ya rotten"

he brings his calloused hand to your cheek and pinched it, making you yelp. you laughed and smacked his chest playfully before rolling your eyes.

"maybe you should sell all of those onigiris you did. i think your customers will love it"

"ya think so? bet they won't love it as much you love it"

"i know so"

you said proudly and crossed your arms with a small huff escaping your lips. he chuckled and wraps his strong arms sround your waist, pulling you close.

"am gonna put yer name on the menu. so the customers can thank ya for the new stuffs"

"what an honour"

he laughs at your words. he loves this atmosphere. the one filled with love. he loves seeing you enjoy his food and spend time with him like this. there's nothing else in this world he can ask for.

"should i make dinner for tonight?"

he scoffs at that, playfully rolling his eyes at you.

"an' let ma precious kitchen burn down? ain't no way that's gonna happen"

he presses a kiss on your pouty lips before turning away to grab some ingredients from the fridge.

"i only burnt it one time!"

he snickers and places the ingredients on the counter.

"yeah but you burnt water, honey. i didn't even think that was possible until you showed me"

you groaned at his tease and watch him roll up his sleeves to get ready to cook.

"don't forget to kiss the chef for a good meal"

his words were teasing as he looks at you with a toothy grin. you rolled your eyes and pressed a kiss on his cheek. he then started cooking as you played some music using your phone. he glances at you from time to time with a lovesick smile on his face.

and that was all he ever wanted in his life.

#osamu x reader #miya osamu #osamu miya #osamu x you #osamu x y/n #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu osamu #hq x reader #hq x you #hq x y/n

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huhmiya · 3 months ago

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CHEF KISS | chris sturniolo

pairing: bf!chris x f!reader

summary: he cooks a meal as a small gesture of gratitude for all that you do for him. this way, both of you can enjoy a meal together tonight, even though that won’t be the only thing he’s eating night.

warnings: smut, oral female receiving, swearing, use of y/n, ass grabbing, pet names (baby, darling, love).

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. I didn’t know what to name the title..

WORDS: 1.5k

huhmiya on wattpad

you - pink | chris - orange

You have been doing everything for Chris ever since you started dating, and even before that, it seemed like you had put your own life on hold to help him with his, and you were perfectly content with that.

He was grateful for all you did for him, as he didn't believe he deserved it, but the main reason was that he always felt he wasn't doing enough for you.

Although he wasn't the best cook, he had an idea to prepare a meal and made an effort to learn by reading instructions to make it perfect for you.

He was wearing headphones as he was home alone since his brothers had gone out and offered him to join them, but he preferred to stay in and focus on cooking without any distractions.

He took longer than expected to prepare the meal because he wanted it to be flawless, even though he wasn't used to cooking or doing such tasks.

While you were out all day with your friends, you decided to stay a bit longer, which would make you arrive at your boyfriend's house late.

He was aware that you would be coming around 10pm, as you had mentioned staying with your friends earlier. The loud music blared through his headphones again as he prepared your favorite food, hoping that his subpar cooking wouldn't spoil it for you.

"Shit," he muttered upon noticing a call coming in. He hesitated for a moment, uncertain of the caller as he accepted it through his headphones. However, upon hearing your voice, his face lit up with joy.

"Are you okay, baby?" he inquired, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he continued cooking. You reassured him, "Yes, I'm just ten minutes away, then I'll be at yours."

He responded with a sweet remark, acknowledging your imminent arrival. With ten minutes to spare, he focused on completing the cooking.

As you ended the call after a minute, the music resumed playing on his headphones. He didn't mind, instead smiling as he savored the sound of your voice, which warmed his heart, knowing you were the perfect girl for him.

He had just finished the meal when you arrived, creating a pleasant atmosphere after setting the dinner table. As you entered through the front door with your key, you called out loudly, “It's only me!”

However, the house's unique layout made it seem quiet to him, as he was upstairs.

You made your way upstairs to find Chris with a wide grin on his face. He greeted you with a hug, which you reciprocated, prompting him to plant a kiss on your head.

Stepping back, he proudly showed you his handiwork. Your eyes widened as you observed his efforts, then you glanced at him. Without a word, he understood your unspoken thoughts.

“I did everything, even cooked the meal. I hope my cooking skills aren't too shabby,” Chris said with a smile, brushing your hair away from your face.

“This is so thoughtful, Chris,” you murmured, to which he simply chuckled, pleased that you appreciated it. After a moment of silence, he embraced you once more, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. To him, you were light as a feather, and it was no exaggeration.

He quickly place you down and pulled out a chair for you to sit on while taking a seat himself. His gaze alternated between you and the food in front of him.

“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it y/n,” he said, observing both the dish he had prepared and your reaction. He didn’t want to force you to eat something you didn’t enjoy.

As you began to eat, you found it delicious. It was possibly the best version of your favorite dish you had ever tasted.

He held back from eating first, wanting to gauge your response. When he saw that you liked it, a smile spread across his face.

“It’s amazing,” you exclaimed, prompting his eyes to light up as he nodded in appreciation. He then began to enjoy his own meal, pleasantly surprised by his culinary skills.

While you both ate and conversed, he listened attentively as you recounted your day. Occasionally, he interjected with questions about your activities, eager to hear more.

Throughout the encounter, his gaze remained fixed on you. Your hair was tousled by the wind outside, adding a carefree charm to your outfit that caught his attention. He couldn't help but notice the fresh love shirt you wore underneath, a detail he had glimpsed earlier while you were changing in his room.

"Checking me out, huh?" you teased, prompting him to roll his eyes and chuckle softly as he continued eating.

"Shut your pretty mouth, will you darling?" he retorted, meeting your gaze and playfully silencing you with a finger on your lips, causing your cheeks to flush.

After ensuring you were quiet, he bit his lip and glanced at you one more time before leaning back in his seat.

Soon, he rose from his seat to clear his plate, prompting you to watch him as you finished your last few bites and followed suit.

With a grin, he reached out to tousle your hair as you rinsed the white plate. "Are you sure it was okay? You weren't just saying that because I made it, were you?"

"I assure you, everything was fine. Why didn't you enjoy it?" you ask, tilting your head in confusion. He just laughs and stops stroking your hair.

"I did like it, but you know what I would like even more?" he whispers, his voice deepening as he moves your hair to the side, exposing your neck.

"What would that be?" you inquire. He simply looks at you before gently kissing your neck and then speaks.

"Well, I'm still hungry, but this time I'm hungry for you," he says before giggling. "I didn't expect it to sound so cringy," he whispers.

He then kisses your lips and pins you against the kitchen counter, grabbing your wrists and making you wrap your arms around him. You respond by kissing him back.

His hands soon move to your backside, squeezing it before lifting you up onto the clean kitchen counter.

He maintains eye contact as he slowly removes your jeans, admiring your naked thighs before placing your jeans on the floor.

Your eyes widen, but he hadn't noticed. He traces patterns on your thigh before moving his hands up to your waist and then glancing at your shirt.

"Can I keep your shirt on? I find it so fucking hot when you wear my merchandise," he says, his voice filled with desire.

You nod, indicating that you are okay with it. He lifts your shirt and kisses your stomach, removing your bra in the process so you are left only in your shirt and thong.

"I'll be fair and make it a bit more comfortable for you to keep your shirt on," he says, aware that you may find it uncomfortable wearing a bra as he has heard you complain about it before.

You push his hair back as he raises an eyebrow in confusion, but doesn't say anything. He removes your underwear and notices how aroused you are.

“You are so beautiful, love," he whispered, gently holding your legs before leaning in to kiss you. His stubbled beard grazed between your legs, eliciting a soft moan from you as your eyes closed in pleasure.

He then kissed your intimate area and flicked his tongue over your folds, teasing you with each sensual touch. His nose brushed against your clitoris as his tongue circled around your entrance, causing you to bite your lip and whimper with delight.

His whispered words, “you like that, huh?” preceded the moment he sensually explored you with his tongue, causing your eyes to widen and your back to arch as he held you in place by sitting on the kitchen counter.

He savored the taste of you, wishing he could always have you. Your moans grew louder, and he didn't attempt to silence you since it was just the two of you in his house.

He intensified his movements, expertly pleasuring you with his tongue, causing your legs to tremble. His thumb deftly teased your clitoral hood, eliciting moans as your orgasm approached.

"I'm close, Chris," you warned, to which he simply nodded. He spread your legs wider, continuing to pleasure you until you released all over his tongue.

Your orgasm dripped onto his chin and the kitchen counter, but he paid it no mind, proceeding to clean you up and lick you thoroughly.

"You taste so delicious, darling," he murmured as he pulled away, licking his lips and gazing at you. As you moved to wipe your essence from his lips, he stopped you, using his thumb to clean them before sensually licking it off.

Your eyes widen as he chuckles before lifting you up gently and taking you to the bathroom to freshen up.

MIYAS MASTERLIST & INFO

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lunerabo · 5 months ago

Text

chef’s kiss

cw: sub!Uraume, dom!AFAB!Reader, cunnilingus, fingering, name calling, pegging, anal, hair pulling, degrading praise, free use kink, Uraume’s genitalia isn’t described (but everybody got a bootyhole so 👀), sukume involved but it’s not serious, set in the Heian period, implied cannibalism

It is no small thing to gain the recognition of the lord Sukuna himself.

It would not have cost him much had he overlooked your predictive skills, but it pays to have a guess at the future. Your talent has failed him not once since being accepted into the fold, and you can see in him that since meeting you and listening to your advice, he’s decided that perhaps the rapidly changing social tide is something he should start paying more attention to.

To say it has granted you an important seat is an understatement—and it is from this very seat that you take notice of another lovely gem in your lord’s sparse collection of trusted characters.

Uraume, his own chef, whose work you would not be ashamed to admit you had stolen to taste for yourself once or thrice. Sukuna certainly seems to like keeping talented people around.

It was one blessed evening that they spoke to you at last, voice as smooth as butter and musical as birdsong, only to be wasted on the unsavory threat of including you in their next dish if your thievery continued. You know they would have, too. You know what’s being served on those platters.

But they would have followed through only if you hadn’t been patient—if you hadn’t played your cards just right—and, perhaps, if you hadn’t been so damn good at figuring out how to read them.

They failed to notice how you notice everything. How you notice how eager they are to follow orders from only one specific master, and that if that master handed the leash to someone else, they now belonged to them. They failed to recognize just how much influence you had over that master, and perhaps you did, too, for you had expected to take your lashings and be sent away when having experimentally asked him if he might lend you his chef for a time. You’d not missed how he had taken them to his own personal quarters some nights, so it wouldn’t be lost on him what exactly you were asking for. But, amazingly, he’d said yes, so long as they are returned able to do their job.

So, them having actually visited you in your own private room has you a bit stunned.

You’ve predicted downfalls and uprisings, then wars to conclude them, all of which you estimate will happen in your own lifetime. But you couldn’t have predicted this.

Your lord’s comely chef, yukata hung seductively loose about their pale neck and shoulders. Loaned to you, as a gift, in exchange for your services.

Uraume’s expression is unreadable, but there’s an almost pleased look tugging at the corners of their lips. A scent lingers in the air around them, some expensive perfume you would never have found made just anywhere. They’ve taken extensive measures to prepare.

“You bathed before coming. You used imported soaps, of—“ you give the air another quick whiff—“Dutch make. You also have not yet eaten this morning.”

“All of this is true,” they answer. “Yet you have not been present to see it.”

“I use the present to tell the past just as much as I use it to tell the future.”

Slender fingers glide across the front of their yukata, as if to take it off, but opting instead to tease you with the idea.

“It is much more impressive to tell the future, however. Such as, for example, what you will make of me now that I’m here.”

They’re closer now, and you’re not sure when that happened, but you’re not complaining.

“That depends entirely on what you are now.”

Their clothing seems to melt away as they undress, yet the kiss they press to the corner of your mouth is arctic.

“Whatever it is you wish me to be.”

They tug at your own clothes, bring the both of you to a kneel on your futon, where they slip their icy hands under the fabric and peel it down over your shoulders.

They sink to their knees gracefully, parting yours. Their icy lips drag across your skin, and they seem to take their time admiring you. They don’t rush; they’ve been instructed to make sure you enjoy it. And despite it being merely an order, the manner in which they perform it is anything but mechanical.

Their mouth is on you in an instant, and you had prepared to keep up the smug, composed, superior act to keep this scene rolling smoothly, but a lapse in judgement has you forgetting that Uraume is a pro. They are no stranger to having their mouth used, and the skill they’ve gained from that is evident.

The way they lap at you feels eager, but their expression doesn’t seem to line up with it. It’s a task, you remind yourself—this same focused, pensive expression is one you’ve seen when they’re cooking, when they’re writing, even in everyday conversation. Their hungry mouth betrays them, and their blank expression cannot hide how they enjoy your taste.

They’ve been eyeing you too; though this you’ve felt more than seen. Uraume may deny it but your penchant for mischief despite your status has earned you an unlikely pair of admiring eyes, and a brief glance between their legs tells you everything they’ve been thinking as they’ve watched.

“You’re excited to be here, aren’t you?” You ask, still and relaxed as they pick you apart.

“Any order of lord Sukuna’s is one I will execute with enthusiasm.”

An amused frown plays at your lips.

“Did you just lie to me?”

Uraume blinks, a bit caught off guard. They didn’t, not really. None of what they said was technically untrue. Yet the friendly and jovial tone you take with them as you say that feels like a sign of danger, like there’s no correct answer.

“If you’re going to spell mistruths to a soothsayer, I would suggest at least speaking of things they cannot see in front of them.”

Most of your predictions are bullshit. Educated guesses. You’re just good at noticing things, understanding cause and effect when the answers aren’t in front of you. But you don’t even need to employ this skill to be able to plainly see that Uraume fancies you, far beyond what their master orders.

They shed you of your clothing, and their body betrays them under your touch. Your hands are as sure as death, and they have the poor thing dripping all over your fingers as you work at them. Soft bangs and fine eyelashes tickle your bare shoulder as they rest their head there, perhaps too embarrassed to show anything past a neutral expression around someone new.

“A beautiful whore you are,” you remark. “Does Sukuna loan you out to others as well, or am I special?”

“You are.”

“How lucky am I, then! I must be important.”

Their breath trembles as you play with them, their thighs tensing every so often under your gentle touch.

“You are important. Think of how—ahn!—Lord Sukuna would have f-fared without your help.”

“I’m sorry,” you begin, voice dangerously friendly and sweet, “surely you aren’t implying our mighty and beloved master would have fared poorly if someone hadn’t aided him, are you?”

The switch in their tactics is easily spotted. Rather than keep composure, they collapse, bare chest to yours, arms slung loosely and affectionately around your shoulders. Uraume’s fawning, in the hopes that they might appeal to your sympathetic side, desperately trying to convince you that that is not what they meant. They’re just a little bit disoriented from your touches, they swear! It’s certainly not that they don’t think highly of their lord.

Unfortunately for them, sympathy isn’t a word in your vocabulary.

“Tsk tsk, and I was considering being sweet to you. How would he punish you for such a comment, I wonder?”

You pull hard at a fistful of their hair, practically peeling them off of you as their head tips back and their spine arches.

“You have thirty seconds to prepare.”

They scramble, tight lipped and wide eyed, as you turn away.

What you grab is, you recall absentmindedly, expensive. Well carved and polished ivory, soft yet strong leather pinned to the base of the unmistakably phallic shape it boasts.

It’s fantastic handiwork, you muse for perhaps the thousandth time, as you fasten it about your waist and thighs. But perhaps a bit of a novelty; things like this tend to be bought more for one to tell others about how much they paid for something so frivolous and strange, not to use them.

Uraume sighs, and the sight you turn to see has your pulse racing.

They work at themselves with nimble and well oiled fingers, their rear pointed sharply upward while their head rests on the futon, and they gaze directly at you through the gap between their leg and arm. But, you think, they aren’t working hard enough.

You pull their hand away, reaching around and taking the small vial of oil from them. You’re at their side, tucking your knees under them, before pouring copious amounts of the stuff down over their hole. Your fingers glide upward, gathering it on their tips, massaging over the pert, puckered opening as if to relax them.

But the pace you immediately set with those fingers is brutal, inhumanly rapid, as you show them just how you want them loosened for you. A long series of brief, shocked, rhythmic noises force themselves from Uraume’s lips as their breath hastens to something shallow and ragged. Something that could almost be laughter if it didn’t sound so much like crying.

You give them a break, or so they believe. They nearly thank you, preparing to take a moment to gather themselves, but you begin again before they get a chance. Your hand is so forceful, so powerful, and your fingers so deep. Have you always been so talented? So mean? Something in them hopes you’ll be mean the next time around, too.

“Oh, don’t hang your head, pet. You like it, don’t you? Quit acting so glum,” you giggle, grabbing them by the jaw and forcing their head back up.

“Mm, this is a position you’re well acquainted with, isn’t it? You take to it so naturally. You’re being such a pretty slut for me...”

You stop again, this time for good. They nearly sob, unsure if in relief or in wanting more. They glance up at you, and instantly know that they’re in for it. A deceptively kind, gentle smile crosses your face, eyes half lidded, a soft glint to them that almost gives away your true intentions. The kind of perfectly crafted mask to be expected from a professional bullshitter, but they know better than to speak their mind lest they dig themselves deeper in the hole.

They shudder almost violently just feeling the dip of your weight on the futon behind them. You’re not half as gentle as your expression suggests, but they’re quite loose, not to mention trained to take bigger; perhaps it’s not such a huge deal. Judging by how they collapse rather than begging you to wait or stop, it isn’t an issue at all.

“Now, how would he have taken what you said?”

You’ve never seen the polite, composed, clean-cut chef so fucking messy. Their hair, normally neatly framing their face, splayed out across the sheets and tangled in your fist. Their hands, always so sure and steady as a practiced chef’s should be, grab aimlessly at whatever they can, gripping and releasing again and again.

It’s hard, you remind yourself, that’s why they seem to struggle with it. Flesh gives under pressure; ivory doesn’t. You can never hope to fuck Uraume the way Sukuna does. After all, he has two of what you lack entirely. But this—this feeling is new to them, that much they make very clear.

So, as is the obvious response, you familiarize them with it hard and thoroughly.

They ball up their fists, bringing them in close to their chest as you force their face down, hunching over for a better, deeper angle at which to fuck into them.

They cry and wail, but it’s too muffled in the linens to tell if they’re actually saying anything.

“Go on, pet. Cum all over the fucking place. Nice and hard for me, yes? Give the launderers some work for when they come to collect these sheets.”

Uraume convulses at your command. How you wish you could feel them, sucking you in and tightening around you as you drill them. They tremble and twitch, and their gaping hole makes a sucking sound as you withdraw from it.

They’re a sweet little thing before you, reduced to something small and pathetic under your touch. Their hole clenches around nothing. It still feels good, poor thing.

You click your tongue.

“Awww, I didn’t think it’d wear you out so much. Poor fool. I’m surprised, considering you take much bigger and much rougher on an almost weekly basis. Am I really so good at it?”

They collapse, crying out upon realizing how sensitive they are as the bedding brushes between their legs. You click your tongue in mock sympathy.

“Oh, come here, sweet thing,” you coo, looping your arms around theirs and pulling them into your lap. Your fingers card through their thoroughly mussed hair, parting the knots, straightening it out. They breathe against you as you do, back pressed to your breast.

“Would you like me here more often?”

You grin wickedly at the offer.

386 notes · View notes

thisismeracing · 9 months ago

Text

The one | CS55

― Pairing: Carlos Sainz x fem!reader (she/her) ― Warnings: mentions of break up and food; typos. ― Summary: Yn is doing well a few months after her break up with Carlos, and so is he. Everyone thinks that this paragraph of their lives is over, but as it happens they may be a chapter to each other, and Yn makes sure everyone knows he was her great love, the one - through her new song. ― A/n: None of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps, but the work is, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

February, 2023

February, 2024

realyn

liked by charles_leclerc, sza, and others

realyn "The One" has just come out on all streaming platforms. I hope this piece of my heart reaches yours. Tune in and dive into the feels 💐🤍

view all comments

saintsainz "for old time's sake" HELLO?????

ynsummer omg another bop!!! I wish I could write songs when I'm sad, the few breakups I had I could only cry and try not to choke on my own phlegm

⤷ fan2000 ewwww LOL

hammert1m3 charles on the likes 👀

leclowns1655 in my head they're not over yet

⤷ mercmickey you need therapy, bestie

lewishamilton great music as usual 💜

francisca.cgomes 😍😍

szadirection I love how the grid's still here supporting here even a year after she and carlos broke up 🥺

popyn WE WERE SOMETHING DON'T YOU THINK SOOO ROSÉ FLOWING WITH YOUR CHOSEN FAMILY 🎤🎤🎤🎤

ferraristrangers I have so many theories for the lyrics and the cover and kksjksdj aaaaaaaa

Old posts

March, 2018

realyn

liked by lewishamilton, ynfan, and others

realyn eat pasta, run fasta, they said 😋😂

view all comments

bieberf1 they my new fav couple now 💋

raintyresainz thank you for feeding us that last carlos pic

hurricaneyn welp now I wanna eat pasta but its like the middle of the night

⤷ alonsochamp eat pasta, sleep fasta 😙😂

carlossainz55 ❤️❤️

amarelorenault her glasses are so cool!!!!! her style is always on point

carlossainz55

liked by yourfriend, fernandoalo_oficial, and others

carlossainz55 we tried homemade, it worked 😋

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realyn we didn't run fasta this time though :(

⤷ carlossainz55 there wasn't any race this Sunday, cariño

⤷ realyn shhhh, let me be funny

harrystylistee I want what they have!

April, 2018

realyn

liked by hulkhulkenberg, renaultf1team, and others

realyn enjoyed April with my fav spaniard, wrote a few songs for you guys - new album dropping soon!!!!! 🥳

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aussiegrid howd you like Australia, Yn?

⤷ realyn I loved it, def gonna come back soon 🥰

ynfan 💙💙💙💙💙💙

carlosfullname1 where’s your jacket from?

⤷ realyn website.com 😘

fab2000 can’t wait for the new song and espec the new album!!!!!

July, 2018

carlossainz55

liked by pierregasly, realyn, and others

carlossainz55 Yn's new album "I used to know her" is out now and you guys should run to listen to it 💙💙 she did an amazing job as usual. I'm very proud of you, cariño @ realyn

view all comments

lewishamilton congrats, Yn!

hulkhulkenberg everyone here loved the new album, well done, Yn!

renaultf1team its our garage soundtrack 😎💛

March, 2019

realyn

liked by landonorris, mclaren, and others

realyn the past few months wearing papaya have been amazing! 🧡 and yes, last concert clothes were orange bc of the team

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landonorris looks like the concert clothes gave us some luck, make sure to wear orange again next time!

⤷ realyn I love you guys but I can't be wearing orange all the time

⤷ yourmanager yes, you can

⤷ realyn shut up, I'm gonna fire your ass

⤷ yourmanager no, you won't

⤷ carlossainz55 jajajaja

tifosinha I love how lando looks like their kid 😂

spaincarlos_ not yn and carlos adopting lando lol

ynfan4 her music taste is *chef kiss* 🤌🏾

ynandsainz yn, your album still on repeat on my apple music!

mclaren 🧡🧡

December, 2019

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc, hulkhulkenberg, and others

carlossainz55 ¡Feliz Navidad! 🎄❤️

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saturnracer FELIZ NAVIDAD TAN TAN TAN PROSPERO AÑO Y FELICIDAD 🎤

szalover 😭😍 its the way she loves pasta

⤷ cowboyvettel @ realyn pasta or carlos? choose one

⤷ realyn carlos cooking pasta 😙😋😜

July, 2020

realyn

liked by lewishamilton, fernandoalo_oficial, and others

realyn compilation of some of the flowers Carlos gave me and pics he took 💖 Te amo, cariño 💐🌷🌹🌸🌺🌼🌻

view all comments

fonedirection God I see what youve done for others

carlossainz55 you’re my favorite flower, love 🌸💖

⤷ fernandoalo_official you guys know how to be sicklengly cute huh 🙄

piastripastry see? carlos gets flowers regularly to yn and yall out there crying over an ugly ass man who gives you the bare minimum 🫵

March, 2021

realyn

liked by carlossainz, scuderiaferrari, and others

realyn new character unlocked hehe ❤️💛🏎️

view all comments

ynfrance We want a new album, queen!!! save us!

swiftverstappen the way they went through everything togerher 🤧

⤷ russellsainz I want what they have

monegasque16 another day another yn post to make me cry in single and alone

carlossainz55 thank you for the endless support, cariño 💛 you’re my everything

tifosisunshine you’re 😭 my 😭 everything 😭

August, 2022

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, pierregasly, and others

carlossainz55 my kind of free-weekends 🩵

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sunnyyn yn looks so good 😍😍

yourbestie ❤️ aweee

realyn te amo! 😘

January, 2023

realyn

liked by lewishamilton, francisca.cgomes, and others

realyn happy new year 🙃

view all comments

charlsmonaco where's carlos? 😟

mylightyn I don't like this vibe…

ynwardrobe what is she reading?

lewishamilton 💙

⤷ mclatinha lew do you happen to know something we don’t?

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, fernandoalo_oficial, and others

carlossainz55 ¡Feliz Año Nuevo! 🎉

view all comments

brocedes2010 where's Yn??????

schumini_ at least they seem to be on the same place 🙏🏾🙏🏾

redsainz he looks so good it hurts

back to 2024 💬📩

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713 notes · View notes

loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 1 year ago

Text

Kinkmas (4)- Cookies And Cream

Wanda X Reader 18+

Summary: Whilst attempting to bake festive cookies with Wanda, the two of you end up getting a little 'distracted.'

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings/Tags: Fluff, Christmas Cookies, Baking, Smut, Dom Wanda/Sub Reader, Fingering, Magic Strap on, Spanking, Multiple Orgasms, Kitchen Sex, Hair-pulling, Brief Choking, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex

Kinkmas Masterlist

---

A soft hum left your lips as your body subconsciously swayed to the tune of the Christmas music softly spilling from the speaker, your hands carefully placing the tray of cookies into the oven ready to bake, your smile stretching at the festive shapes of them. Your personal favourite was the Christmas tree shaped ones, your mind running wild with ideas of how to decorate them, hands instinctively opening the cupboards to grab the ingredients needed to decorate the various styles of sugar cookies.

Wanda had helped you use the range of cookie cutters, the two of you having fun with trying all of them out, the tray swiftly filling with bare snowmen, stars, Christmas trees, Santa hats and more, smiles engraved onto your faces the entire time you were together.

As you were opening the bag of icing sugar to make the various colours to decorate with, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to her body as her head rested against your shoulder, watching your hands measure out the appropriate amounts for each bowel.

"Hey Detka," Wanda murmurs after returning, having taken off her thick jumper which leaves her in a simple black tank top and the matching pair of pyjama pants you convinced her to wear, your gaze briefly wandering down to where her bare arms were snaked around you.

"Hey love," you whisper back, tilting your head to the side for a kiss, pecking her lips innocently before returning to the task at hand, silently relishing in the comfort her body provided. Her body stayed glued to yours as she watched you make the first bowl of vibrantly coloured icing, you relaxing against her embrace momentarily as her hands slid under your shirt, caressing the skin in an affectionate and tender manner, fingers gently drawing idle circles against your warm body.. "Does my sous chef want to help again?" you murmur after a while playfully, lolling your head back against her in demand of another kiss, craving another after all the 'hard' work you put in to make the dish filled with green icing.

She smiles and chuckles softly against your lips, her arms that were snaked around you slipping away as she moves to stand opposite you at the kitchen island, her eyes sparkling with mischief. You want to be disappointed at the lack of physical touch as she moves away, bringing with her the items needed to help you make the frosting for the cookies she was eagerly waiting to taste, but the look in her eyes distracts you.

"Sous chef?" she asks humorously, both of you knowing exactly who the true chef was between you. "Are you sure about that, Detka?" Her tone amused as she slides a spoon out of a drawer, ready to mix in the milk and vanilla extract into the powdered sugar, your smile engraved on your face as you can't help but stare at her adoringly.

You hum in response, biting down on your lower lip to try and suppress your smile, Wanda letting out another angelic laugh as she shakes her head at your antics.

The room is then encased in the festive spirit once again as the two of you work silently, enjoying the tranquil atmosphere as Christmas songs fill the air. Your eyes occasionally meet, her green softening at your loving gaze as you watch her make the bright red coloured portion of icing, the white gradually turning the desired colour as the colouring is swirled into it. Your gaze however swiftly flickers over to her arms as she stirs the spoon in the thick substance, forearms flexing slightly as she drags the spoon through it, the vein in her hand protruding slightly causing a series of sinful thoughts to briefly flicker across your mind. God her arms were sexy.

You managed to keep your thoughts at bay to a certain extent, the smirk playing on Wanda's lips implying she'd still heard them, but you didn't notice that as your gaze travelled higher up her toned arms, watching how the muscles moved subtly. Your attention was only diverted away when she moved to cross her arms over her chest, consequently pushing her breasts up, your gaze briefly flicking to them before meeting her gaze with a sheepish look, her brow raising at your red cheeks.

"Enjoying the show?" she teases, chuckling softly as you return to making another colour of icing by adding the orange food colouring for the snowmen's noses, acting coy.

"I always do," your tone soft as you meet her gaze again, the green enticing you in and luring you into staring at them forever. You'd always watch Wanda make the dinner for the two of you, usually sitting on the countertop as she explained the dish, occasionally teasing you about your lack of cooking skills to which you'd always laugh at.

The gaze lingers as you continue to get lost in the eyes you love so much, a wave of arousal flooding through you when you notice them darken, an idea entering your girlfriend's mind as your legs squeeze together as she looks like she wants to absolutely ruin you. When her mouth parts slightly, you expect her to tell you what to do, to order you onto your knees or bend over the island, but instead she merely teases you, wanting you to be desperate before giving into your fantasies.

You watch with lust filled eyes as she swipes her finger into some of the white icing left, the sweet treat slowly dripping down her finger as she raises it to her lips, effortlessly sliding it into her mouth and moaning softly at the taste. Her eyes stay trained on you as her cheeks hollow slightly, tongue swirling around her finger to lick it clean, your own mouth parting at the sinful sight of her.

"Mhmm delicious," she hums out innocently, swiping another bit of the icing and repeating the action, your legs squeezing together harder at her sultry look. "Although," she starts, smirking a little as she pushes herself away from her position at the island, walking around it at a leisurely pace, revelling in how you watch every movement, every sway of her hips in an mesmerised manner, "I know something else that tastes even better." Her arms wrap back around your body, her mouth purring the words into your ear making you groan at her suggestive words, a surprised noise leaving you when you feel the strap on now placed between her legs, red tendrils of magic dissipating into the air after she conjured it.

"Wanda," you sigh out, pushing your body back against her and the toy, a low groan escaping her, the noise going straight between your thighs. "Fuck, is it...?'' Your words trail off as she grinds her hips into you, softly moaning at the shell of your ear as she can feel everything through the toy, her powers enabling her.

"Yeah," she husks out, her hands sliding down your body, caressing the skin at your waist softly before pulling your body back against hers, your hands gripping onto the edge of the marble countertop for support. "I can't wait to fill you up Detka," she rasps out, kissing your neck lewdly as you give into her, the incessant throb between your legs too much to handle.

"Please," you sigh out, lolling your head back against her shoulders, eyes peering up into hers submissively, "I need you inside me." Her lips instantly pressed against yours at the way you practically whimpered your words, her resolve quickly crumbling as she was just as desperate as you were at this point, her firm hands squeezing your curves as her hips pushed harder against you, pinning your body between her and the countertop.

"You want me that bad Detka?" She chuckles out lowly, teeth scraping the side of your neck, warm mouth pressing against your skin, the touch sending arousal straight through you, your hips pushing back against her to emphasise your want for her. You can feel her lips pull into a smirk as your actions, one of her hands sliding up your body to rest against the underside of your jaw, guiding your head back so she could ghost her lips against yours. "Tell me what you want," her tone dropping an octave, accent wrapping around the words and adding a gentle rasp as her green are utterly consumed by lust and desire.

"Fuck me," you sigh out, "Please," eyes fluttering close as her lips brush over yours, not quite pressing hard enough to give you the satisfaction of feeling them passionately moving against yours. "Bend me over and show me I'm yours," your tone a mere whisper, her mouth crashing to yours as she swallows the soft whimper that escapes you at the intensity of the kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth while her hands move to your pyjama pants, effortlessly sliding them down your legs.

With every touch, you felt your body burn at the sensation, heat building swiftly at the pit of your lower abdomen as her fingers slid your panties to the side, wasting no time in thrusting a finger into you, wanting to stretch you out.

The moan that escapes you is nothing but sinful, the pathetic noise eagerly swallowed by her mouth as she works her digit inside you, curling it perfectly against your sweet spot and causing pleasure to spark through you, your mind struggling to focus on anything but her.

Your knuckles bleed white with how hard you were gripping the countertop for support, hips trying their best to rock against her hands as she groans into your mouth at the way you already clench around her desperately, your mouth parting, lips lingering against hers but not kissing as a groan is torn out of you, her smirking against you at the noise. Her lips trail along your jaw as you struggle to kiss her back, her thumb reaching around your body to circle your clit a few times, your hips bucking against her as your legs try to squeeze around her hand, her other one easily parting your legs.

"Please," you moan out when she slides in another finger, thrusting them together inside you a few times before her free hand moves to between your shoulder blades, pushing your body forwards against the countertop.

Her magic slides everything nearby on the table out of the way, the red fading in the air as you're bent over the marble island like you wanted, hands reaching across to the other end as you knew you were going to need to grip onto something.

"I hope you know that I'm not going to be gentle," her tone is soft as one of her hands gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, her eyes shamelessly raking over your body all ready for her.

"That better be a promise," you chuckle out, her hand tugging on your hair to drag your head backwards slightly, her other hands positioning the toy at your entrance.

A shaky breath leaves her as she feels how wet and aroused you were with the tip of the toy, the warmth and wetness fogging her mind as she teasingly grinds the toy against you another few times, waiting for you to plead with her.

"Wanda, please- Fuck," your words are cut short as she thrusts the toy into you with a powerful snap of her hips, a low groan escaping her at the feeling of you so tightly wrapped around her, her hips flush against yours as she savours the pleasurable feeling. A moan leaves you as she fills you up completely, fingers pressing hard against the countertop as she pulls her hips back until only the tip of the toy remains in you, a small, low curse leaving her lips before she thrusts it back in, both of you moaning once again.

The room quickly fills with the lewd sounds of your moans, pants and the sound of the toy repeatedly being drilled into you, her pace merciless and rough as promised, her hands gripping your waist tightly as she pounds into you in the middle of the kitchen.

"Shit," her tone low as her eyes can't tear away from the sight of her cock being swallowed by your cunt. "You're taking me so well Detka," she pants out, her hands guiding your hips into a slightly different position, the toy reaching even deeper inside you and hitting your sweet spot with every single thrust.

"Fuck," you practically scream, clenching around her hard and making her buck her hips into you roughly, a desperate noise being dragged out of her. "Just like that, shit, harder," you beg, her hand pulling on your hair harder as she somehow increases the force behind her thrusts, a broken noise escaping you at the pleasure that floods through your body.

Unable to stop herself, her free hand spanks you roughly, knowing just how you like it earning another loud noise to reverberate around the room, your eyes squeezed shut at the overwhelming feeling of pleasure consuming you.

"Please, again," you whimper, her hand roughly colliding with your other cheek, a red mark forming where her hand had just spanked, her dominance somehow making you even wetter at the mix of pain and pleasure.

The combination of her brutal thrusts and her harsh spanks clouds your mind, body acting on its own as you try to push your hips back in time with her movements, a string of moans and chants of her name spilling from your lips, your orgasm rapidly approaching.

"I'm so close," you pant out, another spank sounding around the room, your body jerking at the sensation, a whimper falling from your lips. "Please," her hips continue to snap into you, her hand still tugging on your hair, the other moving to hold onto your hips as she can tell you're struggling to support yourself, pleasure being the only thing your brain is comprehending.

"Come for me," she husks out, a guttural noise leaving you as you clench desperately around the toy, walls spasming around her as waves of pleasure and euphoria crash through your body. You fall over the edge into a powerful orgasm, body trembling in her grasp as she slows her thrusts down, a moan escaping her as she tries not to come in you just yet, her hips gently rolling into you. "Fuck," she curses, voice a mere pant as she feels you clench around her again, a small whine leaving you when she pulls out suddenly, hands moving your body.

A thrill is sent through your body when she manhandles you into a new position, having you sit on the edge of the countertop with your legs spread, eyes blown with lust as you watch her hungrily while she positions the toy back at your entrance.

"You feel so fucking good," she husks out against you, tilting her head to meet your lips messily, the kiss a clash of teeth and tongue as you passionately steal each other's breath away. You moan lewdly into her mouth as she thrusts her hips into you again, filling you up perfectly making your hands grip onto her shoulders, nails digging in. "All mine," she mutters, biting down on your lower lip and dragging it down, eventually releasing it before letting her tongue sooth over the dull pain, a whimper leaving you at the action and the feeling of the toy pumping in and out of you.

"Yours," you moan out, her lips relentless against yours, hips incessant as she chases her own release, driving you towards your second simultaneously. One of her hands goes to brace her body above yours, resting on the countertop, the other moves to your throat, fingers resting against the underside of your jaw as she directs you to look into her eyes, a new wave of arousal and heat flooding through you.

"You want me to fill you up, Detka?" She purrs, her rhythm starting to falter a little, speeding up as she nears her release, an affected sigh leaving you as the mere thought of her coming in you has your head spinning.

"Yes," you immediately reply, "Please do, please come in me," your tone laced with desperation and submission as she groans, crashing her lips to yours as your body nears your own release, ready to fall over the edge with her.

"Fuck, I'm coming," she groans, hips stuttering into you as thick spurts of cum fill you up, her hips pressing further into you as her body towers over you, pushing you harder against the island as a string of moans leave her. A moan spills from your lips at the euphoric feeling of her emptying inside you, thrusting gently into you as you follow her and crash into your orgasm, pleasure taking over all your senses as she hides her face at the crook of your neck, panting against your warm skin.

Ragged breaths take over the room as you relax against each other, one of your arms loosely wrapped around her shoulders while the other goes to her hair, fingers softly scratching her scalp, her lips tugging up into a small smile against your skin. Her arms have snaked around your body, pulling you close for a soft embrace as you both try to recover after your powerful orgasms, your head leaning against the side of hers as you remain locked in a state of bliss. Your eyes gradually flutter open, flickering away from the ruffled hair by your head to the clock on the wall, eyes instantly widening.

"Shit," your tone immediately grabbing Wanda's attention, head pulling away from the safety of your neck, "The cookies," the panic in your tone and wide eyes instantly causes Wanda to laugh softly, the angelic noise making your brows furrow as she simply kisses your forehead, chuckling as she lingers at the spot.

"I turned the oven off earlier Detka," she reassures, your eyes having missed the red tendril that ensured the cookies didn't burn while the two of you were preoccupied, relief flooding through you as you were rather excited to try them.

"Oh," you mumble a little shyly, her lips pecking your lips once more, the two of you inevitably smiling against each other, an idea popping into your mind as she still remains inside you, "Well..." You trail off, Wanda's brow raising at your tone, "As the oven is still off, we might as well have a round three."

Another chuckle leaves her as she shakes her head at your antics, kissing you softly and answering your question as she lifts you off the island, carrying you towards the sofa and pinning your body between her and the cushions.

"We might as well," she mumbles playfully, starting to thrust her hips back into you, moans filling the room once again as you lose yourself within each other once again.

The cookies were going to have to wait until later.

#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel fanfiction #eventual smut #wanda fanfic #wanda x you #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff fanfiction #smut #wanda maximoff x female reader #creamp!e #christmas cookies #kitchen smut #12 days of kinkmas #kinkmas #fluff

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boowritess · 7 months ago

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second addition to this post lol

retired!simon riley - sorry chef!simon riley x reader

imagine this motherfucker learns how to cook your cultures traditional foods better than you.

like maybe he had hit up an aunty, your ma, your dad, uncle, sister, brother, cousin, nan, granddad - whoever - to ask about one of your cultures traditional food that's special to you.

so they come teach him, or send him detailed steps, or probably video call him (but let's be fr they probably went over to teach him)

and that is the only time he doesn't ever raise his voice or back talks the person he's sharing a kitchen with - because why would he??? they're teaching him.

idk i just - AHHH i find it so cute imagining this towering fucking goliath of a man standing next to your nan or maybe even your dad - whoever - and he's just listening and watching so intensely.

the kitchen is filled with spices, there's music playing that he doesn’t quite understand the lyrics but it's nice and catchy.

but you come home, and you think that perhaps a family member come in and cooked it because there's no way - yet there he is. making it himself in the kitchen. hands working far better than yours at a task that you were practically raised doing.

and when you sit to eat, maybe you should feel jealous - but fuck

it tastes exactly like your family member that makes it... maybe even better.

as you eat, you look at him, eyes shining with a sort of warmth that's not just loving - it's far more intimate - more homey and one that's so personal. and he can tell because when he's looking in your eyes and there's thousands more staring back at him.

"you're making more of this..." the demand is firm, but with the way you speak, it's clear it's just covering up how much it means to you that he did this.

"whatever you want, lovie..." he softly chuckles, more than happy to adhere to your demands, pressing a kiss to your forehead before eating it himself.

a/n: something for my fellow ethnic babies xx

#my post #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon x reader #simon riley x poc reader #simon riley x brown reader #simon riley x black reader #black!reader #brown!reader #poc!reader #retired!simon #simon riley x reader #cod #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mwii imagines #for my ethnic girlies

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itsonlydana · 10 months ago

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"I Didn't Know That I Was Starving Till I Tasted You" | hobbit

➛ pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑

➛ When you get stood up by your date all you want to do is morph with the couch, eat ice cream and watch Pride & Prejudice. It's a shame your roommate/best friend Thranduil doesn't agree with those plans.

➛ warnings/tags: modern!au, roommate!au, friends-to-lovers, chef!thranduil, swf, kissing

➛ words: 9,3k

➛ an: sooo let's ignore that i said i wasn't writing anymore <3 i'm still not taking request but i have a few fics that i'll post over the next few weeks!

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

The sound of keys turning in the lock sounds through your apartment before the door opens and closes, making you wince.

The piano music playing through the expensive stereo system is loud enough that you could blame your reaction for not reacting to it. After a brief moment, a deep voice echoes from the hallway, marked by an incredulous "Huh?" and followed by an urgent "What?" accompanied by hurried footsteps.

"Hello?! What– what are you still doing here? You should be dressed up and in a cab by now!"

Your roommate and best friend Thranduil rushes into the living room, you can see his tall figure out of your peripheral vision.

Not that it would change where he stands.

You don't bother to turn around and continue to hide between the mountain of pillows and blankets you had accumulated on the couch, watching the movie playing on the big screen in front of you.

"Uhh– Mister Bingley arrived from the North," you comment on the happenings of the Bennets' house, a spoonful of ice cream held to your mouth.

Thranduil steps closer, dropping his coat and a bag on the wing chair next to the couch. "What–"

Instead of answering his question, you let the ice cream melt on your tongue, mumbling a "5000 a year?" with a mouth full of chocolate.

"Talk to me, woman!"

"He's single!" you sigh happily and throw a dramatic hand in the air.

Before you can lower it again, Thranduil snaps and snatches your hand, cold fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling you towards him. Finally, you look up to him and are confronted with your very baffled-looking best friend.

"If you don't tell me why you aren't on the way to the fabulous third date with Marcus-"

"Jake."

Thranduil rolls his eyes at the interruption: "Fine, why aren't you on the third date with Jake right now and instead sulk on the couch watching Pride & Prejudice again? I thought we promised to take a break from watching it anyway."

You push out your lower lip, pouting. "I'm not sulking," you say in a tone so drawn out it completely defiles your statement. Thranduil doesn't say anything, he just lets his gaze slowly wander over the blankets you are buried under, to the half-eaten ice cream bucket to the TV where the Bennet sisters are currently caught eavesdropping on their parents' conversation. He doesn't need words to express himself, the judgment is silent in words but loud in the raise of his dark eyebrow.

"Fine," you groan, admitting defeat. "He canceled."

Thranduil's gaze softens as he sits down next to you on the edge of the sofa and he slowly drops your hand from his grip. "He canceled," he repeats, eyes falling back to the ice cream.

"He canceled," you confirm with a sigh "Just like I predicted- so I don't know why I even bothered to dress up. I even bought that stupid dress just because he wanted to go out to this new fancy Italian place. He canceled and because I waited 15 minutes for him to not show up, standing outside - in the cold might I add- I think I am allowed to sulk a little!"

In the end, you had talked yourself into quite a rage and fall back into the pillows, your arms crossed in front of your chest. "And no, you said I should take a break from watching that movie but since you are not my mother I am allowed to watch whatever!"

You pierce him with a glare but only for a moment before you deflate.

"Sorry for getting all bitchy there," you shuffle around, hands searching for the remote to stop the movie.

"It's alright," Thranduil says and cocks his head. "Now that you are done, am I allowed to go after him and nail his balls to the ground for standing you up?"

A smile tugs on your lips as you shake your head. "No, you are not. I'm sure he has his reasons." The reason wasn't spelled out in the message but after hopping around in the dating scene for a while now, you know what ´I'm sorry but I don't think we really fit. You are a great person though!´ means.

It was nothing new, though it hurt the same as it did the first time.

"Well, unless there was a sudden death in his family I don't see a reason why he couldn't have canceled before the date," he huffs "-you know like a normal person would do"

You shrug your shoulders. "It's done now. Maybe it just wasn't supposed to happen."

"No, it wasn't. Not with a guy like him," Thranduil shakes his head, the long braid of silver blonde hair getting even more disheveled by the movement. "You deserve a man that doesn't cancel, doesn't let you stand outside in the cold!"

"Yes," you sigh again, staring wistfully at the TV "my Mister Darcy."

"He was literally the reason why Elizabeth ran out into the rain and cold," Thranduil responds deadpanned and you throw a pillow in his direction which he elegantly catches.

"I will not stand for this Darcy-hate! Ugh, you are such a bad friend," you whine, "I got stood up and you are making fun of one of the two people who have never let me down.. one person now that you decided to be a meanie!" You once again pout.

This time it works, a little too well because suddenly Thranduil looks at you with that one look of him, the one that breaks through every defense you could build up. He looks at you like you just told him you were dying, all the compassion he can find in his otherwise cold heart spilling out of his cerulean eyes that wander over your face.

"You know you have every right to feel sad about the date not happening," he says carefully, tilting his head slightly in a way that oozes pity, "You were looking forward to it, you even bought a dress for it. Let me cheer you up, I can cook something for you and we can watch a movie later or we can go out and drink until I have to hold your hair in the bathrooms." He smiles softly, sincere and it makes you want to jump up from the couch and hide in your room.

You two didn't do sincere; you bantered, you made jokes on behalf of the other and you most certainly did not comfort each other after a failed date. Your friendship needed lightheartedness, it thrived on sarcasm and arguments about everything and anything that came to your minds.

But the offer is tempting, especially the cooking part. Thranduil is a chef, working in his own restaurant; 'The Green Leaf' and he did a damn good job at it. Most nights, like this one, he comes home and cooks for you because apparently, Goldfish crackers were not as good for your diet as one part of the name misled you to believe and even though you made fun of Thranduils diet as well, fully vegan and with a distaste for anything that made life worth living like chocolate ice cream, he knew exactly how to whip up a meal that had you salivating.

You stare him down, weighing your options. Option one was to remain on the couch where you would shovel the ice cream down until you would inevitably get sick, watching Pride & Prejudice and mourning the never-happening and probably very boring date you would’ve had.

Option two would entail a doubtlessly very delicious meal as well as the possibility of getting drunk as fuck in a bar.

The choice comes easy.

"Okay," you agree and raise a pointed finger at him as a victorious grin spreads on his lips "But-" you wiggle the finger "you will not do this out of pity because I do not need pity from a man!"

Thranduil's grin only seems to grow, lightening up his eyes "No of course not. No pity here. I promise!" He stands up from the couch in a hurry, grabbing the bag he had left on the chair. When you don't move except to reach for the remote again, he shakes his head. "Leave Mr. Darcy for another day, you have to change!"

"Change?" you ask bewildered, looking around the apartment. "I thought you were going to cook here and not at the restaurant. Why would I need to change now?"

Thranduil scoffs, turning his back to you to walk towards the kitchen, his voice growing louder as it's accompanied by the sound of the fridge opening.

"Because I know you spent the entire day planning your outfit. You said you bought a new dress and I will not cook you an entire meal for you to sit there in your sweatpants!" he calls out and you throw your head against the couch with a groan that has Thranduil leaning out of the kitchen door

"You want the food, you follow the chef's orders," he copies the raised finger in your direction "Don't be a brat, get your butt off the couch and into your room before I have to spank you! I'll call you when you can come out."

The threat is met with you sticking your tongue out and one second thinking you could defy the order but that is until he fakes a quick step back into the room and you peel the blankets away squeaking "I'm moving! I'm moving!" while stumbling through the living room. "Jeez"

Despite knowing he would never hurt you the thought of Thranduil spanking you has you blushing a ridiculous amount and you don't turn around so he doesn't see it.

"But just so you know, I will wear the dress but only so I don't have to squeeze myself into it after dinner when we go out!" you yell over your shoulder instead and you swear you hear him chuckle before you slip into your room and close the door behind you.

The sweatpants land on your bed, followed by the sweater you had put on after getting the text message from Jack. You remain in your underwear, which you hadn't been bothered to change and stare at yourself in the mirror of your wardrobe. You are confronted with the blush the spanking comment had left on your cheeks and down your neck, and you scowl at the image.

He is your best friend and roommate.

Get a grip!

The dress you had bought for the date still hangs on the wardrobe door, a short, and black number that wasn't something you would normally wear but when you had stalked the Instagram Account for the place you would’ve eaten at today, nothing already existent in your closet had seemed fitting.

Staring at it now you question the length as well as the relatively deep front and back. After all, this was a normal dinner with your best friend, right? Yes, you would maybe leave for a club or bar after this and you had worn all kinds of clothes for a night out with Thranduil in your company but this dress had been bought for the sole reasons of looking sexy and with the hopes of getting lucky.

You shake the thoughts away and grab the hanger with the dress on.

This was a normal dinner with your best friend and this was just a dress. He had seen you in other skimpy clothes and literally any other form of dressed as well as undressed on several accidental occasions. There is no need to think this over and fall into an endless spiral of doubts.

With a nod to yourself for this mature thinking, wow, aren't you a well-functioning grown-up? – you slip the garment over your head, pinching and twisting the fabric until it sits to your satisfaction.

The hem barely covers your thighs, just doing enough so it wouldn't flash your bottom at the slightest movement but showing enough leg for you to feel powerful. The same was with the deep neckline. Bending forward was not an option, though it would draw eyes on you, hopefully.

You put the discarded jewelry back on again, a subtle choker necklace and a pair of more flashy earrings with - sadly fake- diamonds dangling and catching the light in them. The makeup is done quickly as well, some touches of a brush on your jawline, some lovely shade of lipstick on your lips, the movement of routine flows through your body with no need to really think about it.

After spraying some of your favorite perfume on your neck and behind your ears you wait.

Sitting on the edge of your bed you wait and you definitely don't think back to Thranduil's statement. No. Never.

Maybe a little bit.

Because when he calls out for you a fifteen-minute heads-up, you feel the blush coming back and the suspicion confirms itself at the last look in the mirror. You raise your head, challenging the woman in the mirror with an arch of the eyebrow before walking out the door and into what could only be described as a fever dream.

The living room is dark, the moss green curtains pulled closed except for a small gap where the afternoon sun filters through into the flat. The dining room table is clear from all the jackets, mail and stuff that accumulates throughout the day and week that are usually thrown on it and instead, there are candles.

Candles!

Candles in silver candleholders, like actual burning candles. Next to the expensive-looking candleholders is a vase filled with lavender, full and flourished purple flowers that fill the room with a soft and dizzying smell.

Suddenly you are very glad you are not in your sweats anymore, there is a heat rising in your body and setting your cheeks aflame.

Fidgeting with your hands you quietly step forward into the room to the kitchen, your eyes flittering from the table to the cleaned-up sofas and then you can see Thranduil rushing from the counter to the stove.

His back is turned to you, offering you a view of broad shoulders and arms flexing beneath the white shirt he had changed into, and even worse, the tight black pants he now wears, showing off his long legs and- you look a little higher, checking him out and blushing like it's a guilty pleasure.

Of course, the pants would show off his perfect arse as well.

You shouldn't stare.

No matter how magnificent the sight is.

And oh, it surely is magnificent.

You snap back into reality, take a lavender-filled breath, and walk into the kitchen.

It's a beautiful kitchen, not one of the reasons you had first checked out the apartment but one that had tipped the arguments for it in the end. And you are glad it did, because when you had taken roommate applications Thranduil simply waltzed into it, nodded and offered you the first year of rent with 25% on top of it if you would remove the pop-into-the-microwave-Lasagna from the freezer and never dared to buy something like that again.

His brisk and bold and sometimes very harsh attitude would've maybe frightened any other person off but you had seen the money, the prospect of a cook as a roommate and a handsome one at that, and had held out the contract with one hand while the other threw out the lasagna.

And look where that had brought you.

The kitchen is now filled with more vegetables than you have ever seen in one place that isn't a market, there is nearly always a pot with something ready for you on the stove and the fondest memories you have with Thranduil are baking Christmas cookies, throwing flour into each others faces so that your hair had been colored white like Thranduils, or you learning how to cut vegetables under his stern gaze because "No, you can not cut a carrot the same way you cut the bell pepper!"

Now here he is again, creating a memory that will never let you go.

You let your eyes wander over the stove, where one pot is cooking rice, the other has some onions caramelizing with garlic from the smell of it and Thranduil has one pan in his hand, throwing some cut tofu into the air while he brushes some oil onto white dough stretched into hand-sized bits.

He is fully in his element, maneuvering what seems like a three-course meal without any help or breaking a sweat. Setting down the pan with the tofu (hadn't that been a fun journey of convincing until you had let him cook that without any protest?) he wipes his hand on the towel thrown over his shoulder and turns to the cutting board on the kitchen island. He has even more flowers on the island, pink gerberas and white orchids stand next to his array of mint, basil and rosemary.

You have no idea what has gotten into him, there have never been this many flowers in your apartment except for the few ones some of your dates had bought you and even then they landed in the trash a couple of days later.

Sometimes Thranduil had even said he had confused them for some swept-in leaves after you asked him where the last bouquet went.

The man was truly an enigma.

"Smells good in here," you say and lean over the stove.

Thranduil clicks his tongue against his teeth. With a soft growl, he presses out a "Move," not sounding really annoyed but disturbed by you being in his way and with a giggle you move away to grant him free access to the pots.

"What is on the menu today, Chef?" you ask as you hop onto the island. No matter how much space Thranduil needs for cooking, he always leaves that one spot on the corner free for you to sit on.

"Tofu Tikka Masala you noisy girl," Thranduil doesn't turn around and for a minute you want him to see you, see the dress you have put on but then your gaze falls onto his back again and you blush.

Thank god, he didn't turn to find you checking him out, again.

"Couldn't you have waited until I told you the food is ready? Now I have you sitting around here, distracting me, even though I don't have a lot of time to begin with."

You know he is lying. He had told you more than once that you were a pleasure in the kitchen. Not at the stove but looking pretty sitting on your spot on the island and not touching a thing.

"Well, we could have ordered some pizza," you tease him, and he grunts. When he still doesn't turn around, you lean forward, a smirk on your lips. "Or we could have gone out to 'Oakenshields' and-" The rest of the sentence dies on your lips as Thranduil's whole body snaps around and you nearly squeak when he leans into your space.

Nose against nose, he stares you down, cerulean eyes holding yours without any playfulness in them. "You are on very thin ice," he says quietly and while you know he still doesn't mean it like that, you squirm under the gaze and sudden rush of adrenalin that his proximity is causing your head to swim.

"Yeah?" you ask breathlessly, sounding way too excited for your own good, and you try kicking him against his chin but he catches your leg before it hits him, and as soon as his hands grab the bare skin he lets go again, falling back like it had shocked him physically.

Cerulean eyes drop, leaving your face that suddenly goes up in flames and for a second you can see his breath hitch, his chest moving at the sharp inhale of air as he takes you in. The moment builds up, the atmosphere between you changes and charges with something and for this short, stopped moment in time you allow yourself to think:

'What if?'

Then a timer goes off, distant at first but growing louder when Thranduil's face shifts back to the usual calm facade that reflects not a thing of what is going on in his head. He sniffs, hiding behind his dark eyebrows when he lowers his head and pats you gently on your thighs.

"I'll rather perish than go to 'Oakenshields'," he rasps, the raw edge in his voice the only remnant showing that he was affected by whatever that had been between you.

Then he turns around and pushes the tray with dough into the oven.

He covers it up professionally with the joke, of course, because Thranduil Oropherion could never have been seen with feelings that go deeper than what any human would consider barely amiable.

Yes, he is your best friend and he makes an effort around you to not be the coldhearted asshole he is too, for example, Thorin Oakenshield, owner of the restaurant slash bar that the last critic had called a "serious opponent in the gourmet chef world".

Thranduil took the news so well that he had a furious meltdown of cooking for nearly 20 hours to create a menu that he would serve the critic to show him Thorin was not to put anywhere near him on a culinary level before he threatened to buy the paper the man was working for and fire him.

He only calmed down when he found out the critic had persisted to order his own wine choices and not the ones Thranduil had carefully paired with each course so he had decided that the man had no taste whatsoever and he couldn't give a shit about what he had said.

You had seen the irony in his statement and the state of him, tired, overworked, still behaving like a diva and you had just stifled a laugh and helped him clean the mess in the kitchen.

It was one of those moments that shows you he cares more than he leads on, about life, about people, about what the world thought of him but when it comes to love the man is as warm as deep diving naked in the antarctic would be.

He can be nice, living with him was pleasant and it got a whole lot more comfortable when you got to know each other better.

He makes jokes, he shows you how much he appreciates you through his food, you two watch movies together, go out, get drunk, get home and giggle when one of you trips on the doormat and after a few months he even lets you fall asleep on him when you came home crying because a date didn't go well.

You had seen him drive home in a frenzy when his mother had called him about his younger brother breaking his leg climbing trees, and he had another friend, Bard, with whom he had a friendly get-together every now and again; it was only the romance part he never talks about, never shows, never ever makes room for.

While you go out for dates- he works.

When you meet someone at the club you dance, you make out, you go home with someone else- Thranduil just ignores any woman or man who talks to him.

Thranduil's love life (if existent) is a mystery to you and that makes it even more confusing why he had looked at you the way he did just now. Why would he suddenly decide to buy flowers, to cook you an entire meal because you had been stood up and play-dress up?

Your brain is steaming with these thoughts by the time you catch up with reality again, a snap of fingers in front of your face pulls you back and you blink, slightly dazed. Thranduil stands next to you, body facing the cutting board in front of him but you can see him sneaking a peek towards you out of the corner of his eyes.

"Do you know what you want to do after dinner yet?" he asks, slicing some cilantro and parsley.

His long fingers wrap around the shiny knife elegantly, drawing your gaze in and keeping it locked onto the movement of him cutting a lemon in half and drizzling a few drops of juice into the bowl with the herbs.

You try not to stare at the few drops wetting his palm.

"We should go out," you say, voice wavering in between a question and a hoarse croak. You swallow and move your head before your eyes follow a few seconds later, blinking up at Thranduil. "There is this new rooftop bar- they opened a few days ago and are still baiting people in with the two-for-one drink offer."

Thranduil smirks, leaning his hip against the counter and wiping his hand on the towel. "Ah, yes, because that went so well the last time?" he inquires, eyebrow raised teasingly.

"I couldn't possibly know what you are talking about, Thranduil," you purse your lips, suppressing the smile just barely that threatens to spill out at the memory of the last time you went to a new bar, trying out the "new and never been done before"-drinks the small hipster bar had promised you and that'd ended up being the worst cocktails you ever had.

"You still owe me for the trousers I had to get dry-cleaned because you missy-" he half-threateningly holds out his pointy finger again, "you missed the toilet"

"You could have shoved me in the right direction!"

"Ah yes, blame the man that saved you from throwing up all over your date," Thranduil turns away again, adding coconut milk and chopped tomatoes into the pot with the garlic and onions.

"Occupational hazard of being my friend," you say, giving him the brightest and most dearest smile when he holds out a spoon he'd dipped into the curry, before leaning in and wrapping your lips around it, letting the flavors swirl over your tongue.

Then a low hum leaves your throat, a sound not only shocking you but also Thranduil by the looks of it.

By the look of him.

There is a sudden pink covering his face, right around his nose, showing off his prominent cheekbones in a way that lifts the gorgeous feature even more. It is such an unusual sight, Thranduil, blushing, that you are taken aback by it and the spoon slips out of your lips, nearly falling when Thranduil pulls it out of your mouth, clearing his throat suspiciously loud and rough that it sounds physically hurtful.

He steps back, hiding behind a "Good then?" that you can only agree to with a low "Yes" because– firstly you could never correct him on the taste of something he prepares, he knows your taste well enough to always get the spices perfectly adjusted to your preferences, and secondly your head is blissfully empty for any other answer.

The moment passes, gets drowned out by another timer going off, followed by Thranduil shifting into chef-mode as you endearingly call the shift in his demeanor into a controlled acrobat when he starts handling all those pants and pots, stirring here, tasting there, focusing on everything all at once with a concentration that nothing could penetrate.

You sit back and watch him with a soft smile, observing him as he pulls the bread out of the oven, and exchanges the tray with two dark green bowls out of the cabinets to warm them up in the leftover heat.

He moves with a grace that you surely could not copy, all of his long limbs knowing exactly when to push the rice away from the burner, ducking away when the steam of pouring the hot water into the sink would have given your face a free steaming and all that while looking extremely put together with his tight pant- braid! and white shirt he didn't even bother protecting with an apron like he always forces you to wear.

It's frustrating and attractive how much confidence he oozes in the kitchen. You wonder how the cooks managed to do their job without dropping to the floor and praising him like the godly being he seems to be.

He looks perfectly put together when he finishes plating up and ushers you back into the living room, where you are forced to sit down while he disappears into the kitchen and brings the plates and bowls, shaking off your offer to help every time you can barely start the question.

So you do what is expected of you and you wait, brushing off some hair of your dress- long silver blond strands that you twirl around your finger.

The kitchen light gets dimmed and Thranduil comes into the living room one last time, holding a bottle of wine in his hands that by the looks of it, and by that you mean expensive as fuck, must have been nicked from the restaurant.

He fills your glass, then his own and finally sits down on the other side of the table.

Before you can say something, he raises his glass, "To this evening."

You smile and raise your glass to his, "To Marcus-" Thranduil's eyebrow twitches but you only smile wider "Thank god he canceled, I much rather spend this night with good food and good company"

A deep chuckle accompanies the soft 'clink' of your glasses. You take a first sip, holding Thranduil's gaze over the rim and over the flicking fire of the candles that illuminate his face just right. The wine is smooth, and refreshing as it wets your suddenly dry throat.

You use the plate in front of you as an opportunity to look away without it feeling like you are fleeing from his gaze, even if the thought is heavy in your stomach.

"Everything looks delicious, Thranduil," you say, gesturing to the bowls with the rice and tofu tikka masala, the dough that turned out to be naan that he placed on a wooden board between the flowers and the candle.

Thranduil gives you an appreciative nod, grabbing a naan and ripping it apart. "I tried to make something that comes close to your planned meal of chocolate ice cream," there is a mocking tone in his voice, a drawl on the words chocolate ice cream that is the perfect mix between friendly teasing and his true disgust towards it.

You let out a giggle, following his example of dipping the naan into the curry. "Oh, you are so gracious for trying but we both know that ice cream is high above this. It doesn't even fall in the same food category to be able to compare. If you truly look at it, it's its own category"

"Never mind everything I have said, I've forgotten that I'm talking to the person who thinks a cup of coffee counts as an entire meal. How very stupid of me"

"Not everyone can start their morning looking like you do and have the energy to go out for a run and then cook breakfast," you shoot back, the realization of the compliment slipping out pours onto you when you see Thranduil's lips curve into a very self-satisfactory grin.

"So you are awake to notice," he leans back in his chair, popping another piece of the bread into his mouth and looking so smug that the urge to kick him is rising in you again. "You simply choose to act like you are non-responsive until you've had your coffee."

Instead of kicking him, you roll your eyes and fill your spoon with rice.

Yes, that was one way to put it.

The other would be that you are simply too scared you would say something very stupid and inappropriate when you watched him do his yoga in nothing but very tight pants while you sat on the couch and pretended to stare into empty space that just coincidently was very close to his arching form in front of the window.

"Yes, I live by the rule that coffee comes before any man."

"How rude, to consider me 'any' man," you want to say something but Thranduil is quicker to continue, shutting you up with that gorgeous smile, "Am I not the only man in your life right now who you don't leave on read after a while?"

"That is a very low bar to measure yourself with"

"Darling, those men you date offer nothing but low standards."

You nearly choke on the wine you'd reached for when Thranduil says these words, this term of endearment he casually throws into the sentence, far too confident to be a slip of tongue, far too soft to be meant as mocking.

He said it as if it had never not been there, as if it wasn't completely out of character. For a moment you consider reaching over the table to poke him, to make sure he is really here and not some (very accurate, word class if it truly was one) robotic imitation.

There is a glimmer of mischief in his eyes that only seems to twinkle brighter the longer you stare at him and you wonder if he feels like he has won the discussion or if he can hear your brain mulling over the 'darling'.

Either way, he doesn't comment on it further, not on this nor the matter of your dating.

Why he thought to do so in the first place was a mystery to you, another piece of the puzzle that was this evening. He had made comments about the men you were seeing before, subtle phrases made after glancing over to your screen and the conversations you were having, never really cruel but you wouldn't say that they were particularly nice either.

Sometimes when you came home from a night out, you never brought them back to your flat, Thranduil would simply raise an eyebrow, not saying anything and so much at the same time.

You dig back into your food and like always conversation flows naturally between you. Pushing the teasing and the sizzling of something warm in your stomach that you had felt in the kitchen away into the back of your mind you let yourself enjoy the moment, the comfort of sitting at the table, a nice dinner in front of you and the home-y feeling that was in the air.

Curry and naan fill your stomach as the wine settles in your head and laughter slips your tongue.

Empty plates get pushed aside, forgotten on the side of the table until later, making room for you to prop up one elbow and let your cheek rest in the palm of your hand as Thranduil talks about his newest ideas for his restaurant.

The candles flicker, coloring both your faces golden as the last bit of sunlight sneaks away from the tiny crack in the curtains.

After another glass of wine and some well-coordinated cleaning up, a hand-in-hand process of taking the plates into the kitchen where you load the dishwasher and Thranduil wipes down the pots and pans in the sink, Thranduil throws you out of the kitchen again.

You hop into the bathroom, spend a few minutes staring at yourself in the mirror and try to think about the outcome of this evening.

A few hours ago you had been ready to go out with someone else but right now, in the dim light that is too bright to conceal how flushed your cheeks are and too dark to be the glimmering sparkle in your eyes, there is not one thought wasted on any other guy.

It's a complicated feeling, being confronted with the crush you'd harbored on Thranduil for a while now and while it wasn't always easy to keep it at bay, it had been nowhere near as hard to keep your focus on the big fat label of 'friendship' that was the only thing ever to be between you.

Yes, you know that that label should hamper the want.. the need to kiss the ever-living daylight out of Thranduil when he stared at you across those flickering candles but who wouldn't want to do that to an attractive man showering you with attention he had given you today?

Any normal-thinking person would.

At least that is what you tell yourself, that these feelings are normal because he is attractive and not just because you are attracted to him.

Back in the living room, you fall onto the sofa, legs stretched and feet propped onto the small table in front of the couch, and fight the urge to cuddle into the pillows more than necessary. Any deeper and you would for sure fall asleep and with how your evening is going, that that would be a shame was an understatement.

"Thranduil?" you call out when another minute passes and the noises of washing up had quietened down and Thranduil still wasn't out of the kitchen again.

"One moment," his deep voice responds with a subtle grunt, "You can begin your search for a bar and please don't let it be the rooftop bar you mentioned earlier."

On another day you would have chosen a bar or even a club to go to, especially after your stomach did that traitorous summersault at the sound of his voice again.

Tonight, with your cozy little apartment smelling like fresh flowers and curry and your mind clinging onto a possessive and dangerous thought of 'What if..'´ you suddenly can't think of anything worse than going out with Thranduil.

Going out would mean that Thranduil's attention wouldn't be on you alone anymore.

"Thranduil?" you call out again, "Let's stay in and watch a movie."

"What?" He pops his head out of the kitchen and you giggle at the sight of soap bubbles on his nose as he wipes his hand over his surprised face. He rolls his eyes, lifting one arm, - oh god his sleeves are rolled up, exposing far too much skin and veiny arms for you to think clear- and wipes the soap away. "I thought you wanted to go out."

"No," you draw the word out, still hung up on the smooth-looking skin, "We talked about going out or watching a movie," shuffling your shoulders into the pillows you smile at him "and I think we should watch a movie. It has been a while since we did that."

Thranduils face softens and he cocks his head, "It has," he agrees, the tenderness in his eyes reaching his voice.

With Thranduil running his restaurant and your work demanding more of you there hadn't been a lot of time you had sat down and watched something together recently.

You still had your mornings full of nursing coffee and yoga and the evenings where you weren't on a date or Thranduil away on business you had gone out together.

The summer with all its warm and sunny days and bars filled with cool drinks and long evenings fading into soft blue nights had been fun- that didn't mean you didn't miss cuddling into a blanket on the couch and watching a movie with Thranduil where you spend the entire time making small comments only to annoy him.

"How about you sort out what movie you want to see and I'll fetch us a snack?" he proposes and you let out a hum. Thranduil starts to turn away, then halters, "And if you could find anything other than 'Pride and Prejudice' I would be very grateful."

You did, in fact, not search further for the movie that you had started earlier.

Something that Thranduil comments with a loud "God, please do not do this to me," when he reenters the living room.

Stubbornly, you shake your head, your finger dancing over the buttons on the remote control. "You won't know if you like it or not if you never stay to watch it through! What if this is your movie? You say you don't have a favorite movie, Thranduil- this could be it!" Your arms flare in the air, pointing the remote to the screen while you try your best to sound as motivational as you can under the skeptical raise of his eyebrow - though the corner of his lips twitch, betraying his amusement however hard he wants to look self-assured in his completely (unreasonable) hate for the movie you consider one of the best of all time.

It's only when he saunters closer that you see what he holds in his hands and it momentarily lets you forget the never-ending argument.

"Ice cream!"

He laughs deep and rough, always a bit darker and richer when he has drunk wine, his voice and tone taking on the velvety edge that clouds your mind just as much as the alcohol.

"That was much more enthusiastic than the reaction to the soufflé I made you a while back. Should I take offense? Is this your revenge for my dislike of this Darcy that you so obsess about?"

Sticking out your tongue you grab one of the two buckets he holds out to you, as Thranduil takes his place on the couch; always on the longer side where he could stretch out his long legs. "Do not disrespect the man of my dreams or I will buy the mac-just-add-milk-cheese," you open the lid of the carton box, reaching over to the table to place it there.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Mhm, I wonder if they still have the ones that only need water?"

"Please just press play you vicious woman," Thranduil pokes his finger into your side, admitting defeat with a desperate sigh and opens his own box of ice cream. When he sees you staring at it, he rolls his eyes. "What now? Can't a man enjoy something sweet once in a while?"

"A man yes," you snort "But you-" you poke him as well, "you're always on me when I buy ice cream and now you eat.. what is that..?"

Leaning into his space you ignore how Thranduil swats at you gently like he wants to get rid of a fly "It's chocolate, no way! My, my, should I call your health insurance and warn them that we will need a checkup? Maybe a brain-"

"Goodness gracious!" Thranduil groans, a sound that reverberates through you as you are still leaning into him, one hand propped next to his thigh, "Will you shut up or do I have to do that for you?"

That does shut you up instantly.

Not a sound leaves your mouth - left wide open as if he had simply pressed paused on your whole body - and you slowly turn your head away from him and back to the screen.

Now, while he did shock you enough with his words to let the teasing about the ice cream slide back down your very much dry throat, you can't help it to at least attempt to have the last word.

To calm your racing heart if not to for the sudden lack of thoughts, "Only if you swear to watch the whole movie without talking shit about Mister Darcy"

"Half of it and a little bit of shit-talking?"

"All of it and none of that!"

"Just let me make my comments and I will buy you your ice cream next time."

You squint your eyes, challenging him to stay with the offer and consider if it's worth it.

You could easily buy your own snacks, you did it every day you went grocery shopping anyway but there was a satisfying pleasure in knowing that the great Thranduil, hater of all sweets, would not only pick out ice cream for you, but pay for it as well.

Maybe he would even throw in something else as well, if you agreed to him and let him make his jokes.

In the end, you were simply grateful that he was here, sitting on the couch to watch a movie he knows means a lot to you, despite his dislike for it, and maybe that was enough..

"Deal!"

Finally, you eagerly press play, allowing the soft piano music to fill the room a second time this day.

While you can't help but smile, muttering the words into the spoons full of ice cream, Thranduil is less mean than you thought he would be. In the beginning, you could see him rolling his eyes whenever Mr. Darcy came on screen - something you commented with a sigh and a giggle - but like you always predicted, he soon relaxed into the cushions.

His face softens, just like his comments, mouth corners turning up as he watches the discussion between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth in the reading room.

In one particularly dramatic scene, you turn to Thranduil with wide eyes. "See? See? Mister Darcy is just misunderstood. He's so in love with Elizabeth, but he doesn't know how to express it properly."

Thranduil rolls his eyes playfully. "Oh, please. He just needs to learn how to be less insufferable."

You lean closer to him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know, you could learn a thing or two from Darcy, Thranduil."

He scoffs. "Me? Like what?"

Despite the tone he lifts one arm so that you can really lean into his side and you follow the invitation. Drawing your legs up, ignoring that the hem of your dress rides up your thigh, you scoot into Thranduil's space and rest your back against the length of his chest. His arm remains on the headrest of the couch.

You grin. "How to sweep a girl off her feet. Be a little less aloof and a little more... passionate–" your voice wanders into a wistful sigh, words getting lost as you watch with bated breath as Mister Darcy helps Elizabeth into the carriage.

There is a deep rumble behind you, a hot exhale of breath hitting the back of your head and while it seems like Thranduil wants to say something, he remains silent.

When you slightly turn your head, you see him watching the screen with a look in his eyes that you can't pin point.

"Why exactly does he flex his hand like that?" Thranduil quizzes with what sounds like genuine interest and you nearly bounce off the couch in excitement.

"Okay so there are multiple ways that this could be interpreted, some think it represents his armor cracking because he has been so buttoned-up, closed-off all the time and now his muscles betray the character he is putting on," you start, the words tumbling out of your mouth fast and rushed now that Thranduil shows his interest "It's like he is unraveling slowly but surely."

"It's also the first time they touch," you add.

Thranduil cocks his head, "It is?"

The grin on your face grows wider and you nod enthusiastically. "Yes! It's the first time they touch and it's pure skin to skin contact which was totally scandalous in their time, hence the gloves and long sleeves. Imagine going on through your life with these walls built around you as a way to protect your heart and then there is this infuriating woman."

"I can't imagine," Thranduil throws in yet it's so quietly that you nearly miss it.

Nearly.

Your tongue trips over a few words as you continue speaking, caught on what Thranduil had said under his breath as if it had been meant for only him, "-well and she.. she is rebellious. She does not follow the etiquette of wearing gloves, she speaks her mind freely and she contradicts everything that you have been taught," you count on your fingers "And she must have been the first woman in a long time that has touched him like that, even if it's as simple as using his help getting into the carriage"

"Mhm," Thranduil raises the arm that isn't behind you and taps his lips. "And you find that moment important for their building romance?"

"Without a doubt in my mind."

"Alright."

And with that, the topic is dropped and you both return to watch the movie.

That is until Thranduil's arm drops lower.

At first, you think it could have been unintentional, physics and gravity and all that stuff being the reason that his arm fell or slipped from the headrest on your shoulders.

It happens, maybe it had been tiresome to leave it up there, stretched away at such an angle. That is what you tell yourself in the few seconds where his arm simply.. stays still.. but then his arm bends at the elbow and the movement is so slow, so careful that your brain has enough time to forget the movie and focus on how delicately wary his hand comes into contact with the naked skin of your arm.

At first, it's just his fingertips.

Trembling ever so slightly they ghost over your biceps, giving the impression that he is still unsure on how to proceed and you wait, trying your hardest not to flex your arm and maybe scare him away and it's the hardest thing - this kind of touch was rare.

The waiting and effort are worth every second of agonizing stillness because following the tips is the hot palm of his hand, curving around your upper arm and holding you.

Your senses are aflame like the candles, lavender clouding your mind, cold ice cream melting on your tongue as the rough skin of his fingertips trails over your arm in the smallest circles.

Reflecting on the previous conversation there is one sentiment burning its way through your body, bringing with it all the moments of today, his hands on your leg in the kitchen, the storm of emotions crackling through his eyes like thunder, splitting his facade like lightening, the way he had reacted on spoonfeeding you the curry, the tension.

This has to mean something.

This has to be something.

You make up your mind to confront him about it even before he opens his mouth for the next commentary again.

"Darcy sure has a fantastic way to show his love," his tone was dripping with sarcasm.

"Nothing screams more 'I love you' than separating the sister of the woman you love from your best friend because you think the family is far too poor and lacks social etiquette," he scoffs, seemingly being his normal self and you would have believed him if his eyes didn't dart towards you, hinting at a touch of nervousness in those cerulean seas which lack the usual confidence.

"Maybe he is unsure how to tell her that he loves her," you say, holding his gaze.

"Well, there are other ways than this," Thranduil says, pointing toward the screen where Darcy is now standing painfully awkward in Charlotte's home that Elizabeth visits.

While you know that he is trying to follow Elizabeths advice of simple conversation, Thranduil doesnt seem to make that connection.

"Why aren't you out and about flirting with women?" It is a slip of the tongue, led on by the teasing you are so used to yet it comes out far too soft, far too wobbly. Quickly you add to the question with what is half cough, half laugh: "Huh, I mean if you are so sure that Darcy is doing something wrong, you should be picking up women, right?"

Thranduil raises an eyebrow in confusion. He opens his mouth, slightly tilting his head. "What? Why should I do that?"

Now you wonder if he was more stupid than you thought or if you heavily missed him having a girlfriend. Or not a girlfriend, or a partner. Were you that ignorant? Did you miss anything he told you about his sexuality?

"I–" you stutter "I didn't want to pry. I´m sorry. I.. I'm just wondering why you never go out on dates"

"Oh," there is a solemn look on his face "Ah, I had hoped this wouldn't come up for a while longer," He pauses, glancing at the TV and a feeble smile has the corner of his mouth twitching.

You don't have to follow his gaze to know that Mister Darcy has just followed Elizabeth into the rain; the only scene Thranduil has ever watched with you.

Maybe you had been ignorant before but the resigned tone in his voice is loud and clear. "We don't have to talk about it!" you rush in, "Really. No need to converse. Let's just watch the movie alright?" Without thinking about it, your hand moves to his chest, a reflex to gently pat him that dies when you feel the hard thumping of his heart through his shirt.

"I could never date someone, let alone think about a woman the way I think about you."

There it was again, the casualness that had tainted the 'Darling' from earlier. You would have laughed, hell, it is already bubbling up your throat when the heaviness of his confession crashes down on you and all that leaves you is a choked sound and a sudden lack of air has you gasping.

The combination of both hurts but not enough to cover the flutter in your stomach.

"What?" you ask not because you didn't understand him, you had heard every word, every syllable clear and distinct, but because you can't believe that you had heard it.

Your hand still rests atop his chest, feeling the heartbeat- hard and fast.

The same way he suddenly pressed his mouth on yours.

It happens quickly, leaving no time for you to react how you want to react and the only thing you can do is gasp.

The kiss ends as swiftly as it has started at the sound yet Thranduil doesnt withdraw completely. His mouth hovers over yours, his breath ghosting over your dry lips. There was a question in it, the same that is in his eyes when you gather the courage to look up.

Thranduil wasn't this hesitant, he was efficient, confident and so fucking sure of himself that his lack of those qualities right now spoke just as much as the kiss itself.

In the background, you hear rain but all you feel is your mind clearing up like the sky after the downpour.

Without further hesitation, you nod and Thranduil lunges forward again, this time with enough force that you lose your balance - or maybe it was the feel of his lips on yours that prevented you from catching yourself as you fall backward and crash into the pillows.

As far as first kisses go, most of the ones you had with guys were significantly worse. They were usually awkward, sometimes even uncomfortable because you weren't yet attuned to each other, but you weren't kissing a strange guy in a bar here.

You were kissing Thranduil.

You had been friends for years, you had seen each other in the most embarrassing situations, he had probably been confronted with your unclothed body more often than others, and if there was one thing he had noticed, it was what disappointed you about your dates.

And while he kissed you silly and stupid you were happy about exactly this perceptiveness.

His hair falls around you like a curtain, his chest presses against yours and you get so used to the weight of his body on yours like it has never been different.

And you hope it will never be any different.

"Shit," Thranduil groans against your lips, and you open your eyes, smiling up at him in a daze.

"What?"

"Now-" he kisses you again "Now that we got this out of the way.." Another kiss, a soft bite on your lips and you are so fucking glad to know that no woman has experienced this from him in a while. You are getting addicted to his kisses fast "..can you please stop dating these assholes and let me take you out for a real dinner?"

You nod hastily and lift your head to catch his mouth again. You only let him go for another second, when the perfect place pops into your mind - the last thought for the rest of the evening probably.

"Let's go to 'Oakenshields'"

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