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I rescued a kitten!
Okay, actually my friend C rescued him from the forlorn, wet world of the Chicago streets, but I have taken him in. He's an adventure!kitty and seems to always want my attention/love whenever I'm doing something like eating/reading/typing. Reminds me of what having a live-in boyfriend was like! :P Lucky for him, he's very cute. In my head I'm calling him Lloyd. In practice, I call him "Dude" or "Little Dude." (People who know me in RL--am I not my father's daughter? And also, C thinks my bro looks like The Rosenbaum????????)
I'm reading "Men, Women, and Chainsaws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film" by Carol Clover. And of course this is making me consider writing my seminar paper about the adaptation of the horror genre onto serial TV. :P
ANYWAY. I'm VERY DOMESTIC lately. I put up new curtains, made soup, got a gym membership.
And fittingly, I went over to oxoniensis's Porn Battle and took the prompt "Faith/Dean--hunger" and wrote 300 words that are almost certainly not what the prompter intended. :P Because I want them to be UNMARRIED liek woah. And I have a sense of humor about myself.
Title: Sex or Pancakes?
Pairing: Faith/Dean
Rating: Domestic Porn
*****
“I’m friggin’ hungry,” Faith whines sleepily, pulling the covers up over her head.
“So am I,” Dean answers, lips vibrating against her thigh.
“You’re so corny,” she says, but her eyes roll up into her head, and it’s not just because he’s an incurable cheeseball. Dean’s lines have gotten no less predictable over time, but his ability to rile her up has. He’s figured her out.
“I want pancakes!” she says, panting. “The good kind, with the chocolate chips like you...Oh fuck!”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart. I’m your man.” Faith can feel him laughing down there, but that’s not licking. She peers beneath the comforter tent, and scowls. He’s smirking up at her, and tracing her pussy with a fingertip, too slow.
“It’s either breakfast or getting off-your choice, baby.”
“Fuck you, Winchester.”
“Okay then, sounds like a plan.”
Her stomach growls as he slips two practiced fingers in her cunt, one in her ass, but Faith doesn’t care anymore. Slippery-slide circles of his tongue around her clit, and her appetite for anything else is almost completely forgotten.
Faith comes hard and jerky, thinking about his cock and the other ways he could be-has-will fuck her, clamping Dean’s ears between shivering thighs. She’s still mired in aftershocks when he throws the covers off, scattering sheets and blankets as he bounds to his feet, wiping his mouth and shooting her an “up and at ‘em” grin.
“All right!” Dean says, clapping his hands together. “Coffee first. Do we have any sausage left or did my brother the Sasquatch eat it all?”
“I thought I wasn’t getting any breakfast,” Faith says weakly, fucked-out brain grasping desperately for her snark.
“Yeah, I lied,” he says over his shoulder, and heads for the kitchen.
*****
Right. Now I have to watch the season premiere of the L Word that took me eleven tries to download. That's some serious dedication to the hotass that is Shane.
Okay, actually my friend C rescued him from the forlorn, wet world of the Chicago streets, but I have taken him in. He's an adventure!kitty and seems to always want my attention/love whenever I'm doing something like eating/reading/typing. Reminds me of what having a live-in boyfriend was like! :P Lucky for him, he's very cute. In my head I'm calling him Lloyd. In practice, I call him "Dude" or "Little Dude." (People who know me in RL--am I not my father's daughter? And also, C thinks my bro looks like The Rosenbaum????????)
I'm reading "Men, Women, and Chainsaws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film" by Carol Clover. And of course this is making me consider writing my seminar paper about the adaptation of the horror genre onto serial TV. :P
ANYWAY. I'm VERY DOMESTIC lately. I put up new curtains, made soup, got a gym membership.
And fittingly, I went over to oxoniensis's Porn Battle and took the prompt "Faith/Dean--hunger" and wrote 300 words that are almost certainly not what the prompter intended. :P Because I want them to be UNMARRIED liek woah. And I have a sense of humor about myself.
Title: Sex or Pancakes?
Pairing: Faith/Dean
Rating: Domestic Porn
*****
“I’m friggin’ hungry,” Faith whines sleepily, pulling the covers up over her head.
“So am I,” Dean answers, lips vibrating against her thigh.
“You’re so corny,” she says, but her eyes roll up into her head, and it’s not just because he’s an incurable cheeseball. Dean’s lines have gotten no less predictable over time, but his ability to rile her up has. He’s figured her out.
“I want pancakes!” she says, panting. “The good kind, with the chocolate chips like you...Oh fuck!”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart. I’m your man.” Faith can feel him laughing down there, but that’s not licking. She peers beneath the comforter tent, and scowls. He’s smirking up at her, and tracing her pussy with a fingertip, too slow.
“It’s either breakfast or getting off-your choice, baby.”
“Fuck you, Winchester.”
“Okay then, sounds like a plan.”
Her stomach growls as he slips two practiced fingers in her cunt, one in her ass, but Faith doesn’t care anymore. Slippery-slide circles of his tongue around her clit, and her appetite for anything else is almost completely forgotten.
Faith comes hard and jerky, thinking about his cock and the other ways he could be-has-will fuck her, clamping Dean’s ears between shivering thighs. She’s still mired in aftershocks when he throws the covers off, scattering sheets and blankets as he bounds to his feet, wiping his mouth and shooting her an “up and at ‘em” grin.
“All right!” Dean says, clapping his hands together. “Coffee first. Do we have any sausage left or did my brother the Sasquatch eat it all?”
“I thought I wasn’t getting any breakfast,” Faith says weakly, fucked-out brain grasping desperately for her snark.
“Yeah, I lied,” he says over his shoulder, and heads for the kitchen.
*****
Right. Now I have to watch the season premiere of the L Word that took me eleven tries to download. That's some serious dedication to the hotass that is Shane.