Sample the Menu
Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader
AN: Happy New Year, everyone! 🌟 This was requested by a lovely anon. It’s sort of a sequel to the imagine below. ⤵️
See this imagine for context: Repaying him for a job well done.
Word Count: 550
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only — spiciness and innuendo.
Imagine: Interrupting Ben while he’s cooking.
The cringeworthy sound of metal clanging on metal woke you up early on a Saturday morning. Though your irritation was soon waylaid by the glorious smell wafting up from the kitchen.
Bacon. It had to be. Mixed with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
You slid out of bed, pulled on one of the shirts discarded on the bedroom floor (likely Ben’s, for how big it was), and freshened up before heading downstairs.
You were greeted to a mouthwatering sight.
An over six-foot tower of a man was taking up your kitchen, all broad shoulders and lean muscle and bed-tousled hair.
In short, Ben was cooking.
But because he didn’t have to worry about the potential sting of sparked bacon grease, he only wore a pair of sweatpants while scrambling the eggs. Slowly you crept closer, not wanting to disturb his concentration just yet.
He actually seemed to be doing well. Or at least, nothing seemed to be on fire. (A vast improvement from previous attempts.)
Besides the pans of eggs and bacon, there were four slices of bread locked and loaded in the double-decker toaster, a side of butter, and two plates on the counter. The coffee was already done percolating.
Once again, your boyfriend managed to delight and surprise. He’d never cooked for you before. And you could dare to say, not for anyone before. You'd just recently managed to get him to do the dishes without being asked, to say nothing of breaking out the cookware...
There was an enormous mess of bowls, plates, and even a whisk in the sink, but you could deal with that if this was your reward.
A bubbly feeling rose up into your chest, making you smile. You went to him on light feet, sneaking up behind him.
Looping your arms through his and embracing him from behind, you leaned up on your toes and nipped at his bare shoulder. To him, it felt like a mere graze of your teeth.
“Mmm, I love a man at work,” you said.
“Was wondering how long you were gonna fucking stand there,” Ben said, finally glancing at you over his shoulder. His lips twitched upward at the sight of your grin.
You hugged him tight from behind and pressed a lingering kiss into his neck.
“Breakfast looks good, babe. Thank you,” you said, though your hands drifted down his chest, down his sternum, down to thumb at the stretchy waistband of his pants. “It all looks good.”
A smirk pulled at his lips, though you couldn’t see it.
“Oh yeah?” he said. “Want to sample the menu?”
He felt your smile grow against his skin. “Yeah, I think I do.”
Just as you might’ve started inching that waistband down his hips, and lowering yourself along with it, Ben set down the metal salad spoon he’d been using to mix the eggs and turned in your arms.
He grabbed you by the hips and hauled you up on the counter beside him, hard enough to make the plates clatter. You gasped at the suddenness of it and clung to his arms.
“Ben—”
“Be a good girl and sit pretty for me,” he said. His eyes glinted with a familiar edge of cockiness before they roamed over your bare thighs. His grip brought you right to the edge of the counter, where he spread your legs apart. You allowed it, a tremor of arousal coiling in your belly.
His hand ventured up the inside of your thigh, and his smirk deepened.
It seemed you’d forgone panties entirely this morning. He liked that, along with the blushing smile you now wore, just for him.
“On second thought,” he said, as his fingers brushed the bare seam between your legs. “I think I want a taste.”
AN: Hopefully the real food doesn't get cold. 😅
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