fic: Making Yummy Food
TITLE: Making Yummy Food
AUTHOR: Brio
WORDS: 1,600ish
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Dianna distracts Lea while she makes dinner.
NOTES: Thanks to Ilsu for the prompt (the fic is based on this tweet) and Darch for betaing.
The smell wafting from the kitchen is heavenly and despite Lea’s protestations that she has everything under control and that you should go relax with the others, you find yourself drawn back to the kitchen. She’s humming to herself as she finishes chopping some more vegetables to add to the stir fry. You place your empty wineglass on the counter and sit down at the breakfast bar, slipping your phone out of your pocket.
“It isn’t ready yet,” she says, not glancing over her shoulder to look at you. As she moves back to the oven and reaches for the wooden spoon, you snap a photo of her and she sends a grin your way. “I suppose you’ll be tweeting that?”
“I suppose I could,” you reply, already tapping the message.
“Would you like some more wine?” she asks, stirring the sauce before walking over to the fridge.
“Just a little more,” you nod and smile up at her as she pours the remainder of the bottle into your glass. The sound of gunshots and tyres squealing echoes through from the television in the lounge.
“What are they watching through there?”
“Something that involves cars. And guns,” you say seriously before taking a sip of your wine. “I was talking to Naya until she dozed off.” She rolls her eyes and walks back to the oven. You slide off the stool you’re perched on and stroll towards her.
“Hi,” she murmurs as you snake your arms around her waist and rest your head on her shoulder.
“Hello,” you reply, turning to look at her. You exhale softly and she shivers, her skin erupting in goosebumps. “Looks delicious.”
“It’s my mom’s recipe,” she says, beaming as she starts to stir again. Your fingers trail back to untie her apron as your lips brush against her neck.
“I wasn’t talking about the food,” you whisper and she chuckles.
“Really?” she asks, placing the spoon down on the counter and twisting around in your arms. “That’s the cheesiest line I’ve heard in a while, Di.” The smile on her face fades slightly as you bite down on your bottom lip and run your hands down her sides to play with the hem of her top. “Di, we have company…” she protests weakly when you move her away from the oven, pushing her up against the counter.
“That didn’t stop us the night we all watched ‘Funk’ together,” you muse, raising an eyebrow. She blushes furiously. “Or that time at Cory’s…”
“‘Funk’ was different. Everyone was passed out drunk after Mark and Naya turned it into a drinking game. It was probably a little too ambitious to drink a shot every time someone said ‘funk’…” she shakes her head. “But…”
You cut her off, pressing your lips hard against hers. She acquiesces immediately, her hands coming up to cup your face before tangling in your hair. She groans against your mouth as your hips press against hers.
“You were saying?” you ask, pulling back, lips still millimetres from hers. Her tongues darts out to wet her lips and she shakes her head once.
“Nothing,” she breathes, pulling you back to her. “But if you make me burn dinner, then you’ll have to answer to the others.”
“Deal,” you say, leaning backwards to turn off the heat. “Happy?” You don’t give her a chance to respond, kissing her deeply again, urgently now as every impulse that you’ve been trying to ignore since the two of you were interrupted this morning in her trailer floods your body.
“God,” she gasps as you hoist her up against the counter, pulling the apron over her head and tossing it on the floor.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you all day long,” you keep your voice low, moving your lips to her ear as you run your hands up her thighs.
“And is this what you imagined?” she replies, hooking her legs around your waist. Now it’s your turn to blush. “Where?”
“Piano,” you mutter, eyes closing as your daydream blasts through your mind once more. Your hips physically jerk forward as you imagine the look on her face, the sound of your name on her lips.
“That’s a little higher than this counter,” she ponders, fingers curling in your hair as you begin to kiss her neck. You mumble a response against her skin and she quivers. “Say that again.” You groan and move your lips away, looking her in the eye.
“I went down on you,” you say, watching her eyes drift shut as your thumbs start to move in circles near the tops of her thighs.
“Fuck,” she whimpers, legs parting as you move your hands higher, pulling her top up over her head, leaving her naked from the waist up. “What if they…”
“They won’t,” you insist, ducking your head to her skin again, teasing her with your tongue and teeth. She leans back on her elbows as your palm finds her breast, your fingers tugging her nipple between them. Your mouth is making its way from her neck to her collarbone when she pushes herself upright and shuffles forward on the counter.
“Please,” she urges you. “Fast.” You smile against her skin, nipping her softly.
“Pushy,” you mutter.
“Both of us were interrupted this morning, remember?” she says impatiently.
You relent, pulling her to the edge of the counter and, with her help, drag her leggings and panties down over her knees, her calves, her feet… You step back for a second to drink her in, teeth biting down on your bottom lip. She mirrors the movement, a blush rising up from her chest. She glances nervously at the doorway.
“What if…”
You silence her with a kiss, a soft, lingering kiss that causes her to whimper into your mouth and shiver under your touch.
“The less questions you ask, the faster you get to put your clothes back on,” you murmur in her ear, brushing her hair back over her shoulder. Her legs circle your waist again as she brings herself to the very edge of the counter.
With one hand on her back to steady her, your other hand travels down between the both of you. Goosebumps rise up all over her skin as your fingers skim over her skin, her muscles twitching beneath your touch. She grinds forwards against you as your fingers find their mark, drawing a lazy circle before moving down. You sigh when you feel how ready she is for you, how hard her muscles are already clenching when you slide two fingers slowly inside.
“Di, fast, please.”
She’s struggling to keep her voice low and brings one of her hands down on top of yours to punctuate her pleas. You figure you can tease a little longer before giving in to her requests. She gasps when you start to thrust faster; her hand moves down your back, nails pressing through the thin material of your shirt into your flesh.
“Are you okay?” you whisper as you curl your fingers inside her. Her mouth falls open, head falling back. Her hands fall away from you and you have to catch her before she falls back against the counter. You pull her tighter against your body and tell her to hold on. Her hips are rocking against your hand, matching your rhythm so that she takes as much of you as possible.
“Clit,” she breathes raggedly in your ear. The ache between your own legs intensifies and you can’t bring yourself to deny her. You slide your fingers out and push them hard against her clit. She swears under her breath, pushing her lips against yours. Her thighs squeeze around your hips and she grinds forward, catching you by surprise. You lift her back onto the counter as she mutters apologies against your lips.
“Close?” you ask, your fingers moving in tight circles. She nods, biting down on her lip. Her eyes close as you move faster against her and a slightly strangled noise escapes her throat.
“Harder,” she whines. You comply and her body begins to shudder, jerking under your ministrations. She buries her face in the crook of your neck to keep herself from crying out your name as she writhes against you before falling silent.
“Dinner?” you ask, trying to catch your breath. She chuckles and rolls her eyes.
“Worked up an appetite?” she retorts between pants. You move out of her hold and gather up her clothes, helping her to get dressed again. She slides off the counter to pull up her leggings and watch as she unsteadily returns to the oven.
“So about that piano…” you start to say and she raises an eyebrow at you before your phone’s ringtone interrupts your train of thought. You frown when Naya’s face flashes on the screen.
“Hello?” you ask.
“If you guys are finished screwing on the counter, can we get some dinner?”
You turn a furious shade of red and nearly drop the phone as Naya begins to laugh. You can hear Harry and Telly join in but hang up, whirling to face Lea.
“What?” she asks.
“They know,” you respond weakly, ducking when Lea throws a spatula with alarming accuracy at your head.
“Told you,” she mutters, blushing too as she turns back to the food. You retrieve the spatula and throw it in the sink before moving to put your arms around Lea’s waist.
“So about that piano…” you begin again, tying the strings of the apron behind her back.
“You have a piano,” she points out. You’re silent for a few seconds as you contemplate this.
“Want to stay the night?”
AUTHOR: Brio
WORDS: 1,600ish
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Dianna distracts Lea while she makes dinner.
NOTES: Thanks to Ilsu for the prompt (the fic is based on this tweet) and Darch for betaing.
The smell wafting from the kitchen is heavenly and despite Lea’s protestations that she has everything under control and that you should go relax with the others, you find yourself drawn back to the kitchen. She’s humming to herself as she finishes chopping some more vegetables to add to the stir fry. You place your empty wineglass on the counter and sit down at the breakfast bar, slipping your phone out of your pocket.
“It isn’t ready yet,” she says, not glancing over her shoulder to look at you. As she moves back to the oven and reaches for the wooden spoon, you snap a photo of her and she sends a grin your way. “I suppose you’ll be tweeting that?”
“I suppose I could,” you reply, already tapping the message.
“Would you like some more wine?” she asks, stirring the sauce before walking over to the fridge.
“Just a little more,” you nod and smile up at her as she pours the remainder of the bottle into your glass. The sound of gunshots and tyres squealing echoes through from the television in the lounge.
“What are they watching through there?”
“Something that involves cars. And guns,” you say seriously before taking a sip of your wine. “I was talking to Naya until she dozed off.” She rolls her eyes and walks back to the oven. You slide off the stool you’re perched on and stroll towards her.
“Hi,” she murmurs as you snake your arms around her waist and rest your head on her shoulder.
“Hello,” you reply, turning to look at her. You exhale softly and she shivers, her skin erupting in goosebumps. “Looks delicious.”
“It’s my mom’s recipe,” she says, beaming as she starts to stir again. Your fingers trail back to untie her apron as your lips brush against her neck.
“I wasn’t talking about the food,” you whisper and she chuckles.
“Really?” she asks, placing the spoon down on the counter and twisting around in your arms. “That’s the cheesiest line I’ve heard in a while, Di.” The smile on her face fades slightly as you bite down on your bottom lip and run your hands down her sides to play with the hem of her top. “Di, we have company…” she protests weakly when you move her away from the oven, pushing her up against the counter.
“That didn’t stop us the night we all watched ‘Funk’ together,” you muse, raising an eyebrow. She blushes furiously. “Or that time at Cory’s…”
“‘Funk’ was different. Everyone was passed out drunk after Mark and Naya turned it into a drinking game. It was probably a little too ambitious to drink a shot every time someone said ‘funk’…” she shakes her head. “But…”
You cut her off, pressing your lips hard against hers. She acquiesces immediately, her hands coming up to cup your face before tangling in your hair. She groans against your mouth as your hips press against hers.
“You were saying?” you ask, pulling back, lips still millimetres from hers. Her tongues darts out to wet her lips and she shakes her head once.
“Nothing,” she breathes, pulling you back to her. “But if you make me burn dinner, then you’ll have to answer to the others.”
“Deal,” you say, leaning backwards to turn off the heat. “Happy?” You don’t give her a chance to respond, kissing her deeply again, urgently now as every impulse that you’ve been trying to ignore since the two of you were interrupted this morning in her trailer floods your body.
“God,” she gasps as you hoist her up against the counter, pulling the apron over her head and tossing it on the floor.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you all day long,” you keep your voice low, moving your lips to her ear as you run your hands up her thighs.
“And is this what you imagined?” she replies, hooking her legs around your waist. Now it’s your turn to blush. “Where?”
“Piano,” you mutter, eyes closing as your daydream blasts through your mind once more. Your hips physically jerk forward as you imagine the look on her face, the sound of your name on her lips.
“That’s a little higher than this counter,” she ponders, fingers curling in your hair as you begin to kiss her neck. You mumble a response against her skin and she quivers. “Say that again.” You groan and move your lips away, looking her in the eye.
“I went down on you,” you say, watching her eyes drift shut as your thumbs start to move in circles near the tops of her thighs.
“Fuck,” she whimpers, legs parting as you move your hands higher, pulling her top up over her head, leaving her naked from the waist up. “What if they…”
“They won’t,” you insist, ducking your head to her skin again, teasing her with your tongue and teeth. She leans back on her elbows as your palm finds her breast, your fingers tugging her nipple between them. Your mouth is making its way from her neck to her collarbone when she pushes herself upright and shuffles forward on the counter.
“Please,” she urges you. “Fast.” You smile against her skin, nipping her softly.
“Pushy,” you mutter.
“Both of us were interrupted this morning, remember?” she says impatiently.
You relent, pulling her to the edge of the counter and, with her help, drag her leggings and panties down over her knees, her calves, her feet… You step back for a second to drink her in, teeth biting down on your bottom lip. She mirrors the movement, a blush rising up from her chest. She glances nervously at the doorway.
“What if…”
You silence her with a kiss, a soft, lingering kiss that causes her to whimper into your mouth and shiver under your touch.
“The less questions you ask, the faster you get to put your clothes back on,” you murmur in her ear, brushing her hair back over her shoulder. Her legs circle your waist again as she brings herself to the very edge of the counter.
With one hand on her back to steady her, your other hand travels down between the both of you. Goosebumps rise up all over her skin as your fingers skim over her skin, her muscles twitching beneath your touch. She grinds forwards against you as your fingers find their mark, drawing a lazy circle before moving down. You sigh when you feel how ready she is for you, how hard her muscles are already clenching when you slide two fingers slowly inside.
“Di, fast, please.”
She’s struggling to keep her voice low and brings one of her hands down on top of yours to punctuate her pleas. You figure you can tease a little longer before giving in to her requests. She gasps when you start to thrust faster; her hand moves down your back, nails pressing through the thin material of your shirt into your flesh.
“Are you okay?” you whisper as you curl your fingers inside her. Her mouth falls open, head falling back. Her hands fall away from you and you have to catch her before she falls back against the counter. You pull her tighter against your body and tell her to hold on. Her hips are rocking against your hand, matching your rhythm so that she takes as much of you as possible.
“Clit,” she breathes raggedly in your ear. The ache between your own legs intensifies and you can’t bring yourself to deny her. You slide your fingers out and push them hard against her clit. She swears under her breath, pushing her lips against yours. Her thighs squeeze around your hips and she grinds forward, catching you by surprise. You lift her back onto the counter as she mutters apologies against your lips.
“Close?” you ask, your fingers moving in tight circles. She nods, biting down on her lip. Her eyes close as you move faster against her and a slightly strangled noise escapes her throat.
“Harder,” she whines. You comply and her body begins to shudder, jerking under your ministrations. She buries her face in the crook of your neck to keep herself from crying out your name as she writhes against you before falling silent.
“Dinner?” you ask, trying to catch your breath. She chuckles and rolls her eyes.
“Worked up an appetite?” she retorts between pants. You move out of her hold and gather up her clothes, helping her to get dressed again. She slides off the counter to pull up her leggings and watch as she unsteadily returns to the oven.
“So about that piano…” you start to say and she raises an eyebrow at you before your phone’s ringtone interrupts your train of thought. You frown when Naya’s face flashes on the screen.
“Hello?” you ask.
“If you guys are finished screwing on the counter, can we get some dinner?”
You turn a furious shade of red and nearly drop the phone as Naya begins to laugh. You can hear Harry and Telly join in but hang up, whirling to face Lea.
“What?” she asks.
“They know,” you respond weakly, ducking when Lea throws a spatula with alarming accuracy at your head.
“Told you,” she mutters, blushing too as she turns back to the food. You retrieve the spatula and throw it in the sink before moving to put your arms around Lea’s waist.
“So about that piano…” you begin again, tying the strings of the apron behind her back.
“You have a piano,” she points out. You’re silent for a few seconds as you contemplate this.
“Want to stay the night?”