#but but but it feels... still a lil rough?

[mattysangelgirl]

ᝰ.ᐟ . . . 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐁𝐎𝐘!𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓 ⸝⸝ requested

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ⚠︎ smut, praise, dom!chris, dry humping, petnames (sweet thing, princess, sweetie), etc

“oh sweet thing.. you’re so needy..” his voice was soft and sweet, just like always. he pet your hair while you desperately grind your hips down into the material of his brown leather boot.

you didn’t mean to end up like this, it just happened. it started with you wrapping yourself around his leg, giggling while he tried to get you to let go, also chuckling, but then his boot accidentally came in contact with your clit, and now you’re here.

you don’t know why you continued what he started but you did, and there is no regrets.

“f- feels so.. so good chrissy” you squeaked, you gripped his thigh tighter as you pressed your soaking core harder onto him. you were trying to get as much pleasure as you could with still having your panties on.

thank god you didn’t wear your shorts like you planned today, wearing a dress instead. “i know sweetie, jus’ keep goin’, yeah?” you nod as your eyes fluttered shut, trying to focus on the pleasure.

it felt good, but not good enough, you almost felt restricted by your panties being in the way, and chris took notice to this.

“c’mere—there ya go” he leaned down, pulling your panties to the side. you gasp as the cold air hits your now bare cunt “feel better now princess?” you nod.

that feeling you once had of not enough was now fulfilled, you felt everything and it made you see stars.

“m’ pretty lady, so desperate” the rough carpet dug into your knees, it was uncomfortable, but it was so easy to ignore when your orgasm was oh so close.

this was a sight he didn’t want to forget, and it was ine that he won’t let himself forget either, this was too good to forget—too pretty of a sight to think of anything else forever.

“sweet sweet thing.. my god.. you got m’ boot all messy, and i just cleaned it.. but it’s okay, you’re so pretty that i can’t get mad at you f’that, just gave me a lil’ somethin’ to think about when i wear these..”

𝐱𝐨𝐱𝐨, 𝐦𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐚 -`♡´-

𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 , 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐔

[supernotnatural2005]

‘Mr Right Now’

(Source)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings/tags: Implied Smut (18+), swearing, fluff, one night stand... kinda, mentions of cheating

A/N: Entirely based on this lil clip right here 👆🏻😂, however this will be from the reader’s POV in the beginning and perhaps a lil' insight into Dean’s funny walk 👀🤣

Main Masterlist

Valentine’s Day.

It’s supposed to be your favourite night to work. Singles Night always brings in a good crowd, fun music, and flirty banter that makes your shift fly by. But tonight?

Tonight, you want to crawl under the bar and disappear.

Six months ago, your ex — Travis — said you were “pressuring” him when you asked if he’d ever thought about marriage or kids. After three years together, you figured it wasn’t a crazy question. But the truth came out not long after: he’d been sleeping with your downstairs neighbour. Class act, right?

And today? You found out he just proposed to her.

Yeah. Happy freakin’ Valentine’s Day.

So yeah, you’re bitter. And tired. And trying not to punch the next person who asks for a “Love Me Long Time” shot with a wink.

You were mid-pour when you noticed him. Dean. That rugged, flirty regular who always nursed his whiskey like he had secrets too heavy to say out loud. It’d been a while since he last came in — his job took him all over, he’d once vaguely mentioned. Never said much more.

But tonight, he looked good. That usual cocky smirk in place, dark flannel and jeans and those green eyes doing their usual scan of the room before settling on me.

“Hey, stranger,” you say, once you finished up with your customer, managing a warm smile.

“Here to scope out the sea of desperation?” You teased. And Dean grinned, shaking his head.

You knew he played the field, usually always leaving with a woman on his arm. And a day like today must be like hitting the jackpot for him. You didn’t judge him for it though, these ladies knew what they were getting into.

“That obvious, huh?” he chuckles, his eyes already making their familiar appreciative sweep over you. He’d aimed and missed with you once before — back when you were still with ‘he-who-shall-not-be-named.’ But he respected the boundary, and you appreciated that. Now, though… you find yourself not minding if he looks.

“I mean, if you want to feed yourself to the piranhas, who am I to stop you.” You winked and then poured his usual - double whiskey, neat. 

“I’m surprised you’re working tonight,” he says, eyeing you over the rim of his glass. “Thought you’d be spending Valentine’s with… what’s his name again? Trevor? Tyrone?”

“Travis,” you correct, unable to keep the disgust from your voice. The name tastes like poison now.

Dean notices. Raises a brow. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Try dumping me after three years because I had the audacity to ask about our future,” you say with a tight smile. “Turns out, it wasn’t because I was pressuring him — it was because he was screwing the twenty-four-year-old downstairs.”

“No shit.” Dean blows out a breath, brows raised.

“Shit. And get this.” You lean in like you’re telling him the world’s dirtiest secret. “I found out today, of all damn days, the asshole proposed to her.”

You let out a bitter laugh. Dean just shakes his head.

“What a douchebag,” he mutters, voice rough with genuine annoyance on your behalf.

“Just feels like such a giant waste of time, you know.” you sigh, glancing out at the dance floor where the lonely and the bold are coupling off, laughing, swaying, kissing. All of them looking far less wrecked than you feel.

Then Rachel — your co-bartender and part-time devil on your shoulder — slides in beside you, muttering with a smirk, “Well, you know what they say… Best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”

She nods toward Dean before spinning off to help another customer. Subtle as ever.

“She’s not wrong,” Dean says, that glint in his eye turning mischievous.

You raise a brow, curious. “What, are you offering?”

“I wasn’t not offering,” he replies smoothly.

Your pulse skips.

The tension between you two has always been there — a low simmer under the surface. Banter. Glances. But you were off-limits. Now?

Now you’re single. And hurting. And Dean’s looking at you like he’s more than willing to be your rebound.

“I’m off in an hour,” you say, leaning across the bar just enough to let him see the smirk tugging at your lips. “Think you’ll survive?”

Dean’s grin is slow, sinful. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ve been waiting for the last year. What’s sixty more minutes?”

An hour later, Dean’s on your couch, thick thighs spread, watching you strip off your jacket with hooded eyes.

You straddle his lap, fingers sliding through his hair as you kiss him. It’s rough, desperate, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. His hands grip your waist, pull you flush against him, and you moan into his mouth.

“My ex,” you whisper against his lips, “used to call me a sex freak.”

Dean tilts his head, grinning. “Yeah? Sounds like the douchebag couldn’t keep up.”

You roll your hips against him, feeling him hard beneath you. “Said I was too much.”

“Sweetheart,” he growls, voice low and thick, “I like too much.”

Your clothes hit the floor in a trail of chaos. You barely make it to the bedroom before he’s pushing you against the wall, kissing you like a man starved.

Somewhere between the laughter and the gasps, you tie his wrists to the headboard with your scarf.

His eyes go wide. “Oh, you are wild.”

You just smile. “Still game?”

Dean huffs a laugh, already breathless. “Hell yes.”

And he is. Game for all of it. For your hands, your mouth, the way you ride him like you’ve got something to prove — maybe to yourself, maybe to him. He lets you take control, lets you wreck him, and when he finally comes undone beneath you, sweaty and flushed and utterly ruined, he lets out a hoarse, “Fuck... I’m gonna feel that for a week.”

You collapse next to him, laughing into the curve of his shoulder.

“Want me to kiss it better?”

He turns his head, kisses you slow and sweet. “I think now it’s my turn, sweetheart.” 

And before you can reply, he’s rolling you beneath him, dragging you into round two with a look that says he’s nowhere near done.

When you wake the next morning, deliciously sore in all the best ways, you turn to find Dean still there, tangled in your sheets, a lazy arm draped over your waist. You smile and appreciate his beauty for a minute and wonder why you hadn’t just fucked Travis off sooner and took up Dean’s offer, because holy shit that was probably the best sex you’d ever had. 

Dean seems to notice your staring and hums as he pulls you closer, planting a kiss on your bare shoulder, then your neck, all the way up until he’s claiming your lips once more. 

You sigh happily into it and as he shifts closer and he groans. “Damn, sweetheart. You really did a number on me.” He chuckles and drops his head to your shoulder.

You giggle beneath him, but bite your lip a little insecure. “Too much?”

He seems to notice your apprehension and lifts his head, his grin is lopsided as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Never too much. I’ll take the limp proudly.”

The two of you burst out into laughter and then spend another 20 minutes sharing a few more lazy kisses before he finally vacates your apartment, leaving you with one last long, lingering kiss at the door and a promise of a repeat.

Back at the bunker, Dean limps into the kitchen like he’s been hit by a truck, wincing with every step. He makes a beeline for the fridge, yanks it open, and grabs a questionable takeout container like a man on the edge.

Sam glances up from his laptop, frowns. “Is that a hickey?”

Dean pops the lid, scoops a bite of rice into his mouth and immediately spits it out, not caring if half of it ends up on the floor. He was too hungover for this.

He sets down the container and shuffles toward the coffee pot like it’s holy salvation. Thank God Sam’s an early riser.

“And?” Dean grunts. “It was Valentine’s Day. Can’t help it if I’m a hopeless romantic.”

“You got half of that right,” Sam mutters, not looking up.

Dean smirks. “Just doing my civic duty. Helping a recently single lady rediscover her joy.”

“So… you were the rebound?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “You know the best thing about February fourteenth? You don’t have to be Mr. Right. Just Mr. Right Now, and if that means in the rebounding sense, who cares? I still got laid.”

Sam scoffs. “Classy.”

Dean huffs, tired of the third degree. “Yeah? What did you do, judgy? Curl up in a snuggy, watch fifty shades on cable?” 

“Yeah. No.” Sam huffs humourlessly.

Meanwhile, Dean sips his coffee, eyes unfocused as his mind wanders back to the scratch of your nails down his back, the gasp you made when he kissed that spot behind your knee, the way your voice broke when you said his name.

Yeah. He thinks.

Best. Night. Ever.

AN: I hope you guys enjoyed this one, it was a fun little experiment and just what my brain conjured up watching this clip lol 😂 I don't know about you guys, but Dean could happily be my rebound 😍

If you would like to be tagged in my future works please respond to this >form< so I can add you to the character's you'd like 😊

Dean Winchester/series Tag List:

@bettystonewell , @nancymcl , @happyfxckinghorrors , @ambiguous-avery @jollyhunter

@tbgfvfdcb @crooked-haven @chevroletdean @paganvamp @stoneyggirl2

@deans-baby-momma @spnaquakindgdom @ladykitana90 @lyarr24 , @impala67rollingthroughtown

@jackles010378 @riteofpassage77 @spnaquakindgdom @shadysoulangel @my-stories-vault

@piptoost @star-yawnznn @deansimpalababy @megara0224 @hobby27

@idontwannabehere78 @maddie0101 @kr804573 @shadysoulangel @mrs-nesmith

@zepskies @ohheyguyss @suckitands33 @ultimatecin73 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@arcannaa @aylacavebear @bobbdylann @jaredpadonlyyyy @waynes-multiverse

@impala67stellawinchester @youroldfashioned @bonbonnie88 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @bejeweledinterludes

[concretejunglefm]

https://www.tumblr.com/concretejunglefm/783220961991393280

ur tags for this oughhhh making him (usually the sweetest most obedient sub) pretend that he just needs you so bad that he forces you down and fucks into you pathetically. making him pretend to be in charge partially bc it’s humiliating/pos to try and still be such a sopping wet cat

but yea the needing u so bad he forces himself onto u thing 😵‍💫

maybe a lil bit of somno too like the scenario is that he starts when ur asleep and u wake up to him pushing into you, scrambling to hold your hands down once he realizes ur awake and starting to resist

ANON, PLEASE. Yes, let me talk about this, oh my god, oh my god.

I have two scenarios in mind, and you’ve already got the right idea on one 🤭

CW: somno, cnc, stalking kinda?

NSFW'ish below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

The first is when you’re with him on tour and he follows you back to your hotel room, keeping just enough distance to give you that delicious little thrill of being watched. It doesn’t stop once you’re inside. He watches you slip into the shower, then either joins you—quietly slipping in behind you—or waits until you’re out, dressed in nothing but a towel, before pinning you down on the bed.

His larger frame makes it easy to keep you beneath him, completely at his mercy as he pushes himself inside you, and then come the pathetic sounds, those whiny, desperate apologies as he tells you he just needed to have you. That he couldn’t help himself. That you feel too good.

You do your best to play along, either going limp and helpless or reminding him just how pathetic he is, whichever makes his cock twitch harder. You can feel it, especially when he stays buried so deep inside you like that, grinding into you like he never wants to leave.

The second is exactly what you described. He’s been rutting against you, grinding his hips, trying his best to relieve that overwhelming tension and all he can think is; what harm would it do to just slip inside? You’re asleep. You wouldn’t even know, right?

He tries to be gentle, but he’s too eager, just a little too rough as he pushes in, and the moment you start to stir, he’s already whispering—begging—for you to stay quiet, to not wake up.

For a moment, it feels like he’s gotten his wish, especially when he’s able to start thrusting, but then your eyes open and you start making those sweet little noises. You squirm beneath him and it sends him into a panic. He pins your hands down and begs you to just let him finish, he swears he’ll be quick, he just couldn’t help himself.

He’s apologising, and he sounds so sweet, all whiny and broken as you squeeze around him. Your sleepy little moans only make it worse better and it’s enough to push him right over the edge, but he doesn’t stop, he can’t, he doesn’t want to, not when you feel this good.

[chaoscreaturewrites]

Call of duty, Captain Price, fluff, lil hurt/ comfort ish, domestic, injured reader

Walked right into him

Summary: y/n gets injured and blinded in a work accident. She keeps running into(literally) a kind man at the hospital who gives her his number. It's her first storm alone and the powers gone out and she's panicking. She calls him for help and he solves everything.

Notes: tw for injuries

WC: 2.9k

She always knew her job was dangerous, but more in a hypothetical way, only if you're an idiot way but today she learned it really is dangerous and things can go wrong no matter how many safety measures are put in place.

A hundred safety measures were put in place, a long ass protocol just to enter the lab but it wasn't prepared for what happened today. She was working on making a new compound, and she did, but it was extremely unstable causing an explosion the lab wasn't prepared for.

She was rushed to the hospital with shattered safety glass embedded in her body, she didn't miss the irony of ‘safety glass’.

Glass was embedded all over her with a large shard in her left eye and microscopic glass in her right. They tried to save her left eye in surgery but were unsuccessful. She's now almost fully blind.

Her boyfriend takes her home after being laid up in bed for 2 weeks. As they are walking through the lobby she walks into someone's shoulder and starts apologizing, emotion building in her voice, she's so embarrassed and feels horrible that she'll have to get used to this.

“ don't worry a thing darling, it's alright”

Her boyfriend also apologizes to the man and takes her arm leading her away.

Price makes his way upstairs to meet the others to visit Simon. Johnny asks why he's got that stupid smirk plastered on his face, but he only shrugs in response. It was only just a run in with that cute woman, who's obviously already taken, but still she made him smile like a fool.

3 weeks later she's at the hospital for a check up, but this time she's all alone. The check up goes well and she gets fitted for a prosthetic and decides to get a glittery eye, cause why not.

Her doctor offers to walk her out but she declines, she makes it up with minimal help and the hospital is pretty much the only place she can wander around safely with lots around who can help.

So she goes to try and make her way to the elevator but as she turns a corner she walks right into someone and drops her cane. Again she starts apologizing but is met with that deep voice again.

“I'm all good, are you alright darling”

“I'm okay, just dropped my cane”

“ oh let me get that for ya”

Next thing she knows her cane's being placed back in her hand and she feels a light brush of his warm rough hand against hers.

“your the man from last time, the one who smelled so good”

“ What exactly do I smell like?”

He's thrilled she remembers him, he didn't want to come across as a creep saying he remembered her, but is very glad she remembered him.

“ Smokey, warm, sweetness like caramel, maybe a lil motor grease, makes me picture a log cabin with a cozy fire, a glass of something dark and an old car that's a passion project… oh umm eh sorry that was way to much”

“ that's lovely and impressive”

He can see by the redness of her cheeks she's embarrassed by getting overly personal with a stranger but that moment, her description won him over. He already had a spark of interest for her within him but her words have added kindling forming a flame.

“ do you need a hand”

“I'm trying to find the elevator. I'm pretty sure it's this way, right?”

“ im afraid its behind you”

“ i always took for granted being able to remember floor plans but once there are no visual landmarks you realize how little you remember, but yes i could use a hand”

She reaches out and he works with her moving so she can grab onto his forearm. He's amused as she gives him a little test squeeze, he doesn't miss her tiny quick smile.

He walks them to the elevator and leads her in, he notes how she's forgone her cane in favor of trusting his lead.

“Would it be inappropriate of me to ask what happened?”

“ I don't mind, there was an accident at my lab, I accident discovered a very, very unstable compound and was pretty much sprayed with glass shards at a high velocity”

“ like a frag grenade, it explodes and sends shards of shrapnel, does devastating damage”

“ Yeah, doctors said I got luckily the big shard could have went into my heart instead of face”

“ luckily indeed”

“But enough about him,how come i've run into you twice here, that's not in the odds”

“ my friend, coworker was in an accident and he's a bit of a stubborn pain to put it nicely, so we come and visits him, bring him his favorite tea and give the nurses a break”

“ Even though he's like that, you're still doing all that for him?”

“ he's very rough on the outside and most can't understand what's in him but we've got eachothers backs, when ones down we're there”

“ that's amazing, truly”

“ Do you have someone helping you out?”

“ not anymore, once my boyfriend saw i could microwave food and get around the house okay he left me”

“ i don't mean to offend but he sounds like an immature selfish ass”

“ yeah wasn't too much a loss really”

“ So how are you getting home?”

“Oh the hospital has a service, there's a van that will take me home”

Following the hospital's signs he's able to find the right place to leave her but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to leave it to chance that she will run into him again. He pulls out a business card hoping to give her his number.

Her vision is very very low meaning she can make out colored blurry shapes but can't really define what the shapes are, or are doing. So she sees him doing something but can't logically narrow down his actions.

“ what are you doing?”

“ oh, well I was going to give you my card but”

“ I have an app that reads things to me”

She reaches her hand out making a grabbing motion a child would do for more snacks, then lays her palm out flat waiting. He hands over his card, amused by her dramics.

3 weeks later the first big storm since she's lost her sight hits and everything goes to crap. Her power has gone out but she sees her neighbors still have light, the solution is to flip the fuse but she can't read it and her app won't recognize the chicken scratch. Her big flashlight died and her phone flashlights didn't do shit for her. She walked into something sharp and might be bleeding but is panicked too much to know.

She's sitting on the floor leaning against the wall crying, panicking and needs help. She's about to call her ex and beg for help but then remember the good smelling man who called her darling and offered her help.

“ this is Captain Price”

“ its y/n, i.. i need help”

That's all he needed to hear, instantly he got in his truck and headed to her place. He could hear the raw emotion in her voice and knew she had tried to deal on her own but had broken down to the point she was stuck and needed someone else, he's just glad she turned to him.

She hears the knock at her door and does her best to make it there without another injury.

“Hello darling”

“ hi”

He steps into the room and closes the door behind him. He heard her distress but now seeing it is a different thing. He can see she's been crying and looks like she's scraped her knee.

“ tell me the problem I'll fix it”

“ i can't read the fuse box, my flashlight died and I can't see shit in the dark and I walked into something sharp”

“ where's the fuse box”

“ laundry room off the kitchen”

“ You stay here, I'll be right back, okay?”

“Okay”

The house sparks back to life and her small field of vision now returns. She wipes away her stray tears as she notes the tall spot of color coming towards her.

“Take my hand and I'll get you patched up”

She reaches out and feels that familiar rough warmth, but this time it's not a passing brush but a full enclosing grip over her hand. She follows his light tug and they make their way to the couch, she recognizes the feeling of the couch cushions feel behind her legs and sits down.

“ where's your medicine kit”

“ under bathroom sink”

They reluctantly release their hand hold as he goes to get the kit. He's glad to find she has a property stocked first Aid kit instead of just a pack of bandaids.

“ okay let's see what we got here”

He goes to lift her pant leg but finds the cuff of her sweatpants won't go up high enough. He doesn't want to make her feel awkward but she'll need to remove her pants. To him it's not a big deal, in the military you get used to just stripping but he's not sure how to approach this with her. Luckily for him she broaches the subject first.

“Do i need to take them off”

“ Yes”

He can't muster any other response than a one word answer.

“ so much time in the hospital I've gotten used to stripping”

“ same thing for me but from military”

“ so I guessed right”

“ huh”

“ with your knowledge of frag grenades, and they way you described your coworkers and well I've felt your arm so”

While she removed her sweatpants he kept his gaze up but now that she's seated again he looks and his heart skipped a beat, her legs are covered in bruises.

“ y/n… how did this happen”

“ I walked into so-”

“ not that, the bruises”

“ it's been rough learning to get around, I didn't think it was that bad though”

“ No, no it's alright I just, just thought-”

“ you thought I was being hurt by someone”

“ at first glance it looks that way”

She reaches out her hand hoping her aim is towards his shoulder or the side of his face, in hopes of connecting and comforting him. By the soft bristle she feels under her fingertips she learns 2 things about him, he has a beard and takes very good care of it. Ever so lightly she strokes his beard, pausing when she feels the slight weight of him resting his cheek in her palm.

This man who she barely knows, in all their encounters he has shown her such kindness, compassion and he's never treated her as anything less than capable. He offers help but he never demens her or makes her feel less than like others.

He gets a bit lost in the tender moment, the feeling of her soft touch, the flame within roaming into a bonfire. His eyes drifted shut as he relaxed into her palm. As he blinked he saw another glimpse of her legs and remembered how they got here.

“ let me get you patched up”

“ oh yes, that”

Her hand goes back to her lap, resting with the other as she lazily taps her fingers. Her face only twitches a little bit as he uses the alcohol wipe, he's amused by her stoicism, just like Simon the grin and bare it type.

“ There you go all done”

“ thank you, Captain Price”

He notes her playful tone as his name rolls off her tongue and is very amused by her teasing. He knows she's referencing how he answered the phone, and now that all her problems have been solved she's having some fun with him. He's glad to see the change from her distressed crying state when he arrived.

“ that's my name don't wear it out”

His cheesy joke for the win, he made her laugh and oh he's gonna try forever to hear that again.

“ any other problems for me to solve”

“ no you've done it all”

“ you sure?”

“Well i guess we could use some dinner”

“ on it”

Like a man on a mission he heads to the kitchen ready to ace one of the most crucial tests of building a relationship: can you serve them a good meal?

“ wait, we should order something I barely have anything”

“ I'm sure I can scrounge something up Darling, don't you worry”

“ You're a stubborn man aren't you?”

It's true he is stubborn and has been told so in many very creative and less polite ways. On any task or mission he does, he sets out to succeed. He makes that his only option in mind, he calls this a good successful mindset others call it stubborn and pigheaded, but so be it his track record shows the truth.

Surely enough he finds what he needs and prepares some grilled chicken breast and rich, creamy cheese pasta. Using someone's kitchen can tell you a lot about them, he learns a few things; she's a baker or was, everything has a place organized ,it's all cute and stylized, and this girl likes cheese.

“ whatcha making?”

“ grilled chicken and cheese pasta”

“ ahh so you found the cheese drawer”

He can't help the chuckle that escapes him and just hopes he doesn't hurt her feelings. He's in no way judging, his kitchen tells a story as well, one of living alone and drinking whiskey with lots of sandwiches.

“ yes quite a variety”

“ cheesy, buttery pasta is one of my favorite foods, probably the favorite”

“ perfect that's one of my specialties”

“ i'll set the table, or try, i've been working on relearning things, only broken a few dishes”

“ failure is the road to success just gotta keep at it”

“ exactly, keep trying”

It takes multiple trips back and forth but she does get the table set. Her initial error was trying to do things like she used to, like carrying all things at once then laying them out. Now it takes a few trips but it still gets done and no broken shards on the floor she can't find till it's so late.

He brings over the food and plates it for them both. He waits watching to see her reaction, breath held, this is the moment, will he win her heart with his food or crush his chances.

She takes a bite of the pasta and immediately goes for more, he takes that as a good sign that he's hopefully winning her over with his cheesy food and cheesy jokes.

She over ate a bit but it was just too good, cheesy pasta is her kryptonite and now the food coma is hitting.

“ can you get the dishes, food coma is hitting, that was so good”

“ of course, go sit”

After washing up he joins her on the couch, his own food coma hitting as well. He may have made the food just a bit too rich but not complaints.

She reaches into the couch cushions between them and pulls out a remote, he finds that a rather clever place to keep the remote. He waits to see what happens as she presses buttons and seconds later music starts to play from a really good sound system he can't seem to locate.

“ where are they speakers the sounds great”

“ when got the place I did some renovations, look around you see the extra air vents”

“ there in the walls?”

“Yep”

“That's genius”

They lounge on the couch together, listening to surround sound music. Neither of them could say when it happened,but they ended up holding hands. First subconsciously seeking out the other, then their fingertips touched and now they have ended up with his hand enclosed around hers as her thumb stoke against his palm.

“ I used to believe in fate but when I woke up in that bed and they told me the damage, it broke everything I believed in but slowly I'm rebuilding, your a big contributor to that Price, thank you”

“ you've done it all on your own”

“ yeah but you helped so accept the thanks or you'll learn I'm stubborn too”

“ alright Darling I accept”

[A different time, week later maybe]

He came over unannounced with a bag of groceries and told her they were going to bake. He watched the biggest smile light up her face and he knew he made the right call.

They both got a bit messy with the flour but had a grand time baking. They make a tray of chocolate chip cookies and an apple pie.

She even started to cry as she thanked him, baking was one of her big passions, a hobbie she always did and was so proud of and it was a loss that really hurt. He wipes away her tears and assures he's always up to come over and bake, put his muscles to use hand whisking and kneading dough.

He's reluctant to share his secret with the guys but they keep asking about his foolish smile, abundance of texts and voice messages, and the baked goods he brings for lunch.

He talks to her, making sure she's okay with it first because he knows once they know about her they will want to meet her. His secret little gem.

They all adore her and she loves her new social circle. She'd lost most of friends after her accident; they either distanced themselves or treated her weird and she left them. The guys welcome her and include her, they don't treat her like she's any different and they all love her baked goods and killer sound system.

Can also check out my cod master list and see if you'd like to be tagged for future works about specific characters

[bimbovicc]

#IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED?

Powerplex x f!reader

a/n : hi hi!! this was requested by a sweet lil anon who wanted something for powerplex bc THERE’S NOTHING OUT THERE FOR HIM sobs… so i got filthy. like… really filthy. oopsies. pls reblog if u liked it or wanna sit on powerplex’s face too teehee

Tags : filthy talk, dumbification, light powerplay, choking, rough fucking, possessiveness, overstimulation, praise/degradation mix, aftercare potential

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮

“You wanted this?” he growls, shoving your thighs apart as you whimper beneath him, mascara smudged and lips swollen from sucking on his fingers like a desperate little thing.

You nod frantically, too cockdrunk to form a sentence, drool glistening at the corner of your mouth.

He laughs—bitter, disbelieving—like he’s punishing himself for touching something so sweet. So stupidly devoted.

“Dressed like a fuckin’ whore,” he mutters, looking down at the tight pink tank top you’re still half-wearing, tits bouncing with every thrust. “Batting your lashes at me like you’re too dumb to know better.”

You gasp when he presses his hand to your throat—not squeezing, just resting it there, grounding you.

But his power flickers in his fingertips, just enough to send tingles across your skin. And it makes your eyes roll back.

“I-I just wanted to make you feel good,” you whine, arching up into him. “You looked so sad. S-so angry all the time. I thought—thought maybe if I let you fuck me—”

“Let me?” he snarls, slamming into you harder, and your mouth falls open in a silent cry. “You don’t let me do anything. You belong to me. Look at you. All soaked, dripping on my cock like a good little doll.”

Your fingers claw at his arms, nails scratching through the fabric of his suit. You love it when he gets mean. When he loses that tight, cold control and gets cruel.

“Too dumb to realize what you got yourself into,” he growls, panting as he pounds into you, sparks flaring harmlessly around your body. “Now you’re mine. My dumb little toy. My fuckdoll.”

“Yes—yes, please, I’m yours,” you cry, legs trembling from how many times he’s already made you come. “Wanna make you feel good. Wanna make you happy.”

He stills inside you for a second—head bowed, breathing ragged—and then he moans. Low and broken, like he’s never been worshipped like this before. Like he doesn’t think he deserves it.

“You already do,” he mutters, voice cracking. “You fuckin’ angel. You already do.”

And then he’s fucking you again, rougher this time—possessive, desperate—like he’s trying to bury every last ounce of grief inside you. And you take it all, legs shaking, mascara running, smiling like a dumb, happy girl because you finally got him to feel something.

[catsafari25]

Another question for the Skulduggery Pleasant fandom, because I've just finished reading the Haunted House on Hollow Hill, and I feel like I'm missing something.

Below the cut 'cause this is, y'know, a murder mystery

Do we get two explanations for how the police officer (Dudley) dies? First is that Grody killed him (and is used as an alibi for Grody & how there is more than one killer abroad) and the other is that Terry did it (and he openly admits it) - the second option is clearly the correct one, given the confession, but it just felt odd that there's not even a nod back to the first red herring.

[raiiny-bay]

some WIPs from the 80s AU i never finished

[starlostfish]

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

More ajin art hehehe

THEM

Sorry for how messy it look! I hope it doesn’t look terrible(I’ve been staring at it too long lol)

[fisheito]

rereading the nuca pink doujin and seeing yakumo tear himself apart re: his snake form vs his human form all this agony and self-doubt and silent suffering and fear of rejection like "if i looked less human would u hate me" , "if u saw me in my true form wouldn't that be horrible. terrifying. disgusting" , "if i admitted i want to swallow you whole would you think worse of me"

and i imagine him asking something like this to the crowd of clan members , who are , undeniably,, a group of Kinky Fuckers

they all smile with the serenity and carefully masked excitement of a horny olivine. masterful beautiful reassuring expressions (errr..... masked to different degrees depending on the clan member)

[nixotinix]

Quick little study I did on break teehee

[danidrawsstuff]

so i went to grad yesterday

rambling in the tags

[4nge1s]

Tap the 🩷 for a lil cannon dialogue starter!

[sleepinglionhearts]

Kai's Hobonichi Adventures (October - November 2024) 🖊 📓

[chryblossomjjk]

overall, how did your year go friends?

[sakohakura]

how is kohaku oukawa more emotionally mature than a significant number of grown adults. fictional and otherwise. how does he do that. hes never even been socialised before like. the past year (in-game). and yet

[goofily-moved]

i've had this idea for a final girl for like a year or two now?