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nayeliq1 · 11 months

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June 12th, prompt: Adventure

Grey has overtaken Dean's hair.

His skin has gone soft and wrinkly, his knees crack every time he crouches down, his steps have become slower, his arms weaker.

But that's okay, that's just what old age is like. He's just lucky he gets to experience it at all, and with Cas by his side - equally grey, equally wrinkly. Getting old really isn't all that bad when you get to watch the love of your life doing it alongside you.

Today, Jack has told them. Dean had known it was coming, it's alright.

"You ready?", Dean asks that night, a wrinkly hand searching for Cas' under the blanket.

"Yes." Cas squeezes his fingers, smiling calmly. And despite the lump in his throat, Dean isn't afraid, and he knows neither is Cas. "I've been ready for some time."

"I know, sweetheart."

"Are you scared?"

Dean's heart is beating a little too fast, but he shakes his head.

"Not really", he says truthfully. "Bit nervous, maybe. But hey, that's what imminent death will do to ya."

"It'll be fine, Dean." Cas pulls Dean's hand to his lips, presses a kiss to skin marked by age spots. "We'll be together in the Heaven our son built for us. If you know it's not the end, death is nothing but the next great adventure."

Cas is right, of course.

"And I can't wait to go on that adventure with you."

"See you soon", Cas smiles right before they close their eyes. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

Dean falls asleep with a feeling of peacefulness filling his whole body, and when he opens his eyes again, their bedroom is gone. He stands on a bridge surrounded by forest, body young and strong. Baby is there, but he doesn’t get in. He waits.

There's a shift in the breeze, a presence in his back.

"Hello, Dean."

And Dean smiles.

Let the adventure begin.

For @starcrosseddeancas Dreamy Drabbles

#this is far too long I'm so sorry #but eeeeeh we can let it get a bit out of hand as a land hurray on the last challenge day yeah?#dreamy drabbles #last day of dreamy drabbles #this went by so fast whut #destiel drabble #inspired by the ending of my fix-it fic #spn drabble #destiel ficlet #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #dean winchester gets to get old #as he deserved #cas is the love of deans life yall #drabble prompt: adventure #soft destiel #destiel fluff #my writing

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destielrotsmybrain · 2 years

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Fic - Somebody Save Me

Dean had taught Cas about the "thanks for saving me kiss" movie trope and somehow it had become a habit between the two of them.

This is an expansion of my Dreamy Drabble Day 5 - Kiss fic, on which @deancaskiss unfortunately used the tag #more of this please and thank you inspiring me to turn it into a fic 10x the original word count. So I guess this is for you Bex

You can also read at Ao3

It was a good thing that Sam was already propped against a wall, trying to get his breath back after that fight. If he hadn’t been held up by an external force he would have fallen over when he saw his brother purposefully stride over to Castiel, utter the words, You saved me and lay a kiss on him worthy of a movie heroine.

Months Earlier…

It’s a rare movie night early in the apocalypse with Dean explaining to Cas the ‘thanks for rescuing me kiss’ trope.

“Does this mean you’re going to kiss me?”

Every thought left Dean’s head, “Wh- Why would I do that?”

“I rescued you from hell. Is that not the sort of thing that qualifies?”

Several responses flitted through Dean’s head, all varying degrees of a lie, before ultimately deciding on avoidance. “I wouldn’t have thought it was something an angel wanted.”

It was Cas’ turn for avoidance, this time of Dean’s eyes, “I admit to being curious about the experience”

Well shit. Dean thought about all the ways this could go, refusal, on the cheek, a quick peck – but no. If he’s going to do this its going to be the best damn ‘thanks for saving me kiss’ you’ve seen. So that’s what he does. It’s more than a few minutes later that he pulls back.

“So… is the perk worth the trouble of saving damsels”

The heat in Cas’ eyes ironically made Dean shiver, “I definitely hope I have to save you again.”

Dean clears his throat, “right. Well there’s still at least half an hour of this movie to go.” They turn back to the screen, but both steal glances at the other for the rest of the night.

The next morning Dean had barely made it out of the steamy bathroom before Cas planted himself in his path. “Uhhh Cas…?”

He’d like to be able to say that the kiss took him off guard, and it did, but yet there was nothing surprising about it. The stray thought that remained in Dean’s head was that he hoped Cas was enjoying the minty taste of his freshly brushed teeth.

It was a few breaths before Dean realized they had stopped kissing and were now just looking at each other when Cas answered the question Dean hadn’t yet found the words for.

“It occurred to me that I hadn’t thanked you for saving me from Alistair last year.”

Nervous laughter that sounded way too much like a giggle for Dean’s peace of mind escaped out of him, “yep, I sure did do that. You’re, uh, you’re welcome pal.”

-----

Stupid is what he was. Oh sure, Dean was used to dealing with high-level demons, angels and you know – the apocalypse these days but here he was locked in a basement with a twisted ankle because he wanted to do a basic hunt on his own and didn’t think the sweet old lady was a threat let alone would push him down the stairs locking the door behind him.

Not wanting Sam to know about this left Dean with one main option. He pulled out his phone and dialed. “Hey Cas, I’m in a bind. Any chance you can come to 1246 Jefferson Lane, Smithsville? I’m in the basement.”

A few heartbeats later, the angel was standing in front of him, head tilted to the side clearly listening to what was going on outside the basement. “Dean are you aware there is a shifter upstairs?”

“Uh yeah Cas, kinda why I asked you to stop by. She got the jump on me and now I’m stuck down here.”

The angel disappeared, surprising Dean, until he heard crashes from the floor above him. The noise died out and then Dean heard the basement door open. Cas appeared on the stairs not long after. “The situation is dealt with.”

“Thanks Cas. Now if you could come help me up the stairs, we can get out of here.” He gestured towards his injured ankle. When the angel came closer, Dean slung his arm around his shoulders and carefully stood, trying not to put weight on the one leg.

They hobbled up the stairs, Cas’ arm wrapped securely around Dean’s waist. Making their way carefully past overturned chairs, Dean looked around making sure there was nothing left behind to identify him.

Eventually they arrived at the impala, Dean leant against the trunk. Cas stood close enough that the bottom of his trench coat brushed Dean’s legs.

“You saved me again.”

Cas’ gaze was steadfast, “I did.”

Dean’s fingers curled around the lapels of the trench coat gently tugging Cas forward. If the angel resisted it wasn’t noticeable. Lips tenderly met and eyes closed. It was only when Dean’s lips started tingling that he went to pull back, only to have Cas chase after him, not letting their contact stop before he was ready.

“Thanks for the assist Cas. Now I just have to figure out how to drive on this ankle.” He was surprised by the gentle smirk facing him.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, I’ve already healed it.”

It clicked in Dean’s mind that the tingling he thought was just part of the kiss, was actually Cas’ grace healing him. “You saving me again?” The smirk softened even further turning into a fond smile.

“I always will Dean.”

The smile Dean sent back was equally soft, “thanks Cas.”

-----

It wasn’t always life and death situations that occasioned a kiss, although there were plenty of those in their line of work. Dean’s declarations of “My Hero!” accompanied with the requisite kiss were common if Cas showed up with a six-pack just as Dean was on his last beer, pre-ordered a slice of pie while waiting for the hunter or even if he was willing to get up to change the channel to find a decent movie. It had become so commonplace between them that they hadn’t realised that no one else was in on the “joke”. Well not until a hunt with Sam.

-----

Panting and slightly shaky from the near miss, Dean stared at the demon corpse lying at his feet. Cas’ angel blade still sticking out of its back. He looked up and across the room towards Cas, who was wide-eyed and clearly still panicked. They both knew how close that had gotten. Adrenaline racing, Dean stalked across the room, grabbed Cas by the back of the neck and with the least amount of joking he could remember said, “You saved me,” before hauling him in and kissing the angel with everything he had. Continuing to hold him close when they stopped for breath.

“…Um guys?”

Dean didn’t look up from where his head was buried in Cas’ neck, “yeah Sam, what?”

“Since when… uhhh… so you two are together now?”

Letting go of Cas in confusion, Dean turned around, “no? I would have told you something like that.” He glanced at Cas who was also looking confused which wasn’t unusual with the socially awkward angel. Strangely, Sam looked more confused than Cas, “but the kissing…?”

The light bulb went on in Dean’s head. “Ohhhh. No, it’s kind of a joke, well not joke, but you know. Its just this thing we started doing, like a ritual maybe?” He looks at Cas for help, not really knowing how to explain why he regularly kisses his best friend without it meaning to lead anywhere. The angel shrugged. Dean scratched through his hair, “you know like in the movies, the thanks for saving me kiss?”

It wasn’t a bitchface, but Dean had no idea what Sam’s expression was doing right now, incredulous? Holding in a fart? Laughter? Who knows? “You kiss each other because its in the movies? Dean, you know most of those movies kisses end up with them in bed together too right?” Now it was obvious that Sam was doing his best to not break out in laughter.

Dean rolled his eyes and walked off, Cas following close behind him, “Dean, I wouldn’t be opposed to the kissing leading to more.”

Great, now his brother had put the wrong idea into Cas’ head, “Cas you don’t want to do something like that just because it happens in the movies.”

The angel muttered under his breath and the dark look that was aimed his way made Dean think he was going to be in need of rescuing again shortly, this time from his angel. “Do you really think that’s the only reason I’ve been kissing you? Because of a narrative trope? Dean you weren’t the only person I helped in that room today. Do you think I’m expecting Sam to kiss me too?”

Well there was a mental image he really didn’t need. “You’d better not be,” he growled.

The impressive glower faded from Castiel’s face, “Okay, so have you wanted more?”

Dean shrugged, “I never thought about it. I was just happy to enjoy the kissing,” He turned almost shy, “but I guess I wouldn’t be upset if we tried more. Or even if we kissed when we felt like it rather than as a thank you.”

A pleased smile was now coming from Cas, “I would also enjoy that. In fact I think I’d like to start right now.”

They smiled at each other, leaning in. Dean paused before making contact, his lips just brushing Cas’ as he asked a question.

“You’re still going to save me though, right?

“Always Dean.”

#destiel #my writing #dreamy drabbles #i guess?#these boys got stupidly sappy on me #i was not expecting that #deancaskiss

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ao3feeddestiel · 7 months

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Dreamy Drabbles June 2023

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/DOuJWMn by twofrontteethstillcrooked Nine 100 word drabbles from the Dreamy Drabble challenge on tumblr, June 2023 Words: 966, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 99 of spn snippetfics Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Additional Tags: Drabbles, Schmoop, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Castiel/Dean Winchester UST, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Toddler Jack Kline, Fix-It read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/DOuJWMn

#IFTTT #Dreamy Drabbles #June 2023 #twofrontteethstillcrooked

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 6 months

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what a pretty flower.

the single morning glory stands out, fresh spring sunlight accentuating its indigo hue, glimmering like a shooting star just behind the chain-link fence. in the peripheral of your vision, it almost seems to glow; solitary and ephemeral, as if coaxing you into stepping closer.

and you can’t resist its call.

suguru blinks, a little dazed, when he feels your hand slip from his. the warmth of your intertwined fingers follows closely behind, and the loss of contact leaves him feeling slightly vexed, replaced by the gentle chill of the air.

he doesn’t get an explanation, either. attention entirely fixed on that mesmerizing indigo blur, you don’t say a thing — and with an eager kind of giddiness, you skip over to the fence, ready to fish it out.

suguru just sighs, mildly amused.

it’s nothing out of the ordinary, really. if you see something that captures your attention, suguru has come to learn that you’ll drop just about anything to go get a closer look. does it exasperate him, ever so slightly? sure. the involuntary twitch of his fingers reveals as much, almost as if coaxing him into waltzing over and grabbing your hand again.

but suguru is a patient man. especially when it comes to you. and, above all else — any habit of yours is endearing to him, even ones that include you leaving his side for a moment or two.

so he simply watches over you from afar, knowing you’ll return on your own; with your jacket tucked between his arm and his torso, a can of cold, too-sweet coffee in hand. suguru hasn’t put his lips on the aluminium in about five minutes, saving whatever’s left for the inevitable moment you start whining for just one tiny sip, please?

(he’ll roll his eyes, and tell you not to drink yours so quickly next time, but still hand it to you with a smile he’ll make sure you don’t see.)

suguru’s gaze is unspeakably fond, as he idly admires how the sunshine wraps you in its embrace. you almost seem to sparkle, in his vision, like a butterfly dancing in the wind — fluttering just barely out of reach, too fragile to touch. too beautiful to sully with human hands. maybe it's a tad dramatic, but suguru couldn't care less.

the air is warm, full of life. cicadas chirp from afar. within his veins, his blood buzzes with joy and cheap caffeine, and everything smells like spring. like something new, something delightful. something that makes him think of you.

suguru watches as you crouch down, watches how your nimble fingers struggle to fit through the narrow gaps of the chain-link fence. he can’t see the little frown that tugs at your lips, and he can’t hear your little muttered grumbles — but he can somehow feel your frustration, all the same. something about the way you ducked your head just now, the way your fingers tap against your bended knee.

but then, finally, your valiant efforts bear fruit. with a number of failed attempts that you’d rather not mention, you manage to pluck the small flower, bringing it to your side of the fence without too much of a fuss. suguru doesn’t have to see your face to know that your eyes must be bright, lips curled up into a victorious smile. one that always makes him feel a little weak in the knees.

dusting pollen and tiny pieces of grass off your knees, you stand up straight, wasting no time in turning on your heel and making your way back to his side — with the precious morning glory in tow.

suguru waits, patiently, for you to return to him.

when you do, he doesn’t even get a chance to speak; you part your lips before he can give you the usual raise of his eyebrow, soft tilt of his head, teasing inquiry of did you see something nice, sweetheart? all he can do is lean a little closer, making sure he hears every word your lovely voice graces him with. seeking the feeling of your breath against his skin, the warmth of your body when it’s tucked into his side.

(but he can’t get too greedy. so suguru keeps his distance, eyes rich with affection, looking at you like you’re the first flower blooming out of spring.)

and you speak, nearly bouncing on the balls of your feet, eyes shining with something giddy and honeyed — all too eager to see your idea through, the idea that crossed your mind the moment you laid eyes on the little flower.

”suguru,” you smile, sweet and excited. ”lean down.”

a blink, and a questioning look sent your way. your boyfriend shoots you a lazy smile, paired with a raise of his eyebrow that you’ve come to associate with him and his love.

despite the vague confusion painted on his features, suguru obeys your command without hesitation. always so willing to indulge you. he bends forward, compliantly, until he’s at eye level with you — face just a little too close for comfort, dark hazel eyes staring into yours in a way he knows flusters you terribly.

the butterflies in your stomach erupt at the intimate proximity, wings tickling your ribcage like soft petals sputtering after being rooted up from the ground — but you don’t allow yourself to falter.

(it’s a little tough, though. he looks so pretty, with the spring breeze caressing his cheek, soft streaks of sunlight falling over the contours of his handsome face. so, so pretty.

but there’s something that would make him look even prettier.)

so, with a gentleness that never fails to have suguru’s heartbeat hitching in his throat, your palm goes to smooth along his jaw. his eyes never leave your face, gazing intently at the way you press your lips together in concentration, barely resisting the urge to lean forward and kiss you. patient, as he waits for you to be finished.

it’s a tender motion: the pads of your fingers against his sunkissed skin, tucking the little flower behind his ear, its stem resting between his soft, silky locks. the indigo colour blends together well with his black hair, like a shooting star blooming in the night sky.

you lean back to admire your work.

”hmmm...”

suguru bites back a chuckle, at the intense contemplation etched onto your features. seemingly very deep in thought, you furrow your brows and absentmindedly stroke your chin — studying him with a serious expression, a tilt of your head and narrowed eyes, as if you’re an art dealer examining a painting on display.

(you’re so silly, he thinks. the thought is positively overflowing with fondness.)

finally, you seem to reach some kind of conclusion; and your eyes soften, crumbling a little at the corners, painted over with something suguru can’t quite place. whatever it is, he suddenly finds it a little harder to breathe — all that love crammed into the confines of his chest, clogging up his throat. your eyes crinkle when you smile, oh so sweetly, burrowing your way deeper into his heart.

(you’re already in so deep he doubts he could ever dig you out.)

”yeah,” you exhale, a little breathless. still admiring how pretty he looks, with the morning glory in his hair. like a princess, your princess.

your pretty, pretty boy.

a smile rests on your lips, laced with adoration. suguru feels his heartbeat pick up with a jolt, and he somehow doubts it’s just the caffeine; the sensation only deepens when your smile shifts in the light, melting into a soft grin.

”purple suits you best.”

suguru blinks. giving him no time to respond, you turn on your heel and continue walking, expecting him to follow. thoroughly satisfied after seeing your sudden objective through to the end — he looks just as pretty as you knew he would.

but suguru has to take a moment to simply watch, as you skip on ahead. always excited and off in your own world. the sun personified, he often thinks, peeking out after a rainshower, shining as you please. bringing light and warmth wherever you go.

maybe he would feel embarrassed, if he was another person. someone more insecure in their masculinity, less in love with you.

fortunately, that is not the case. suguru lifts a hand to stroke the flower, delicately, careful so it doesn’t loosen and flutter away with the wind. his heart feels warm. cheap caffeine and sweet thoughts rushing through his veins.

”— suguru?”

his gaze flits up to meet yours, where you stand a little further ahead, confused eyes looking into his own. a little tilt of your head is all it takes for him to move; catching up to you in long strides, a smile on his face.

”sorry. got lost in thought.”

you take his hand in yours, fingers intertwining with his own, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. as if your hands belong together. his smile widens.

”don’t like it?” you ask, nodding vaguely in the direction of the morning glory. suguru squeezes your hand reassuringly.

”not at all. thank you, baby,” he soothes, a teasing tilt to his smile. eyes hopelessly softened. ”does it look good on me?”

a little chuckle flows from your lips. breathing out a silent response — don’t ask me questions you already know the answers to. but you opt to indulge him, all the same, turning towards him with an affectionate gaze. ”of course,” you coo. ”you’re the prettiest.”

suguru can’t bite back the soft grin that blooms on his lips, and he wonders if you notice the red hue crawling up his neck — faint, but awfully telling. to distract you from it, recognizing a glint of familiar mischief in your eyes, he reaches a hand out to pull your cheek. gently, not enough to hurt you.

the little wince that escapes you tugs at his heartstrings, though, even though he knows you’re just being dramatic to make him feel bad. he can only hope the teasing smile he sends your way will be enough to fluster you, his eyes smoothed over with a deep sincerity.

”you’re one to talk.”

it takes a second or two for his words to sink in. and he can pinpoint the exact instant that they do, from the way you avert your gaze, swiftly, face heating up adorably. suguru stifles a coo.

a little huff leaves your lips, vaguely embarrassed — muttering something unintelligible under your breath. you let go of his hand and take a couple long steps forward, to avoid his teasing gaze.

suguru follows behind, dutifully, with a fond chuckle. it scatters away in the spring breeze, dancing up into the blue of the sky, caressing the morning glory in his hair.

he takes your hand in his, once more.

you don’t let go.

#challenging myself by writing drabbles that dont turn into 10k fics #youve heard of the babygirlification of satoru gojo well get ready for the babygirlification of suguru geto #soft sugu my beloved !! <333 hes so dreamy. so bf coded. my pretty princess .#he is so….. acts of service. words of affirmation . do u see my vision #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #geto fluff

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babyjakes · 1 year

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dreamy undoing.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | april '23 ddlg-themed blurb night

summary | when you need it most, ransom knows exactly how to clear out your pretty little head.

pairing | daddy!ransom drysdale x little!reader

warnings | ddlg. soft sweet doting daddy!ransom. toys: warming cream, clit pump, vibe, butt plug. fingering. soo much praise, a little dumbification, lots of "shhhhh"s which are my favorite hehe <3. reader cries a little but only due to pleasure. reader is tied up. multiple orgasms, squirting.

word count | 1,517

requested by 🫧 anon | Life has been so stressy lately and I just know that Daddy Ari or Daddy Andy (or any Daddy you feel like writing!) would put together the perfect plan to wipe all the stressy thoughts from their little one’s brain. Daddy would make sure she feels all safe and little first, and then maybe tie her up to show her some new toys he got for her as he tells her that he’s going to use them to make all her stress go away. By the end, all she can do is come and squirt over and over and over again as daddy makes her make a big big mess.

an | ohh bestie i'm so glad you sent in a toy request, i have been craving a good toy fic and this was perfectly timed for blurb night!! hope it's alright with you that i chose ransom, i just love him and miss him and always think of him first when it comes to toys hehe <3 also?? this was supposed to be just a quick lil blurb but the adhd medication got me completely carried away..... hope you enjoy >:-)

"There you go baby— shhh," Ransom's voice is the softest, sweetest thing you've ever heard as his gentle fingers spread the yummy-scented cream all over your poor little button. Your legs twitch against the ropes holding you open and spread wide for your daddy. Though you're all tied up in quite a punishing position, this is not a disciplinary session. Instead, the restraints are simply there for your safety, for your comfort. Ransom knows this is exactly what you need after such a grueling week of school and work; all he wants to do is let his pretty baby's mind melt away to nothing as he rewards her endlessly for all the hard work she's been doing.

"Mmm... Daddy," you mumble. Ransom hums along with you as he rolls your tiny knot of nerves between his fingers, the effects of the special cream not taking long at all to be felt. "Th-thank you Daddy, feels so nice, feels—"

"Shhh— you're welcome, baby," the dark-haired man leans his head in to press a kiss against your forehead as he works your sensitive clit with his fingers. "You just let Daddy take care of you, hmm? Don't have to worry about a single thing, sunshine. Need to empty out that pretty little head of yours, s'not good for a tiny baby like you to be doin' so much thinkin'."

From the little pile of toys he has sitting next to you on the bed, he grabs your favorite pump next. It's a simple device with a round plastic cup for your clit, connected to a small bulb that allows your daddy to work the suction manually. As Ransom uses his fingers to spread you out gently, fitting the toy into its place, your toes curl in excitement. "Need to get your sweet little button all puffy and ready for Daddy to play with, right baby?" he smiles as he sucks your poor clit up with a squeeze, earning an eager nod from you as he wiggles the pump carefully, making sure the seal is air-tight.

"Bet that feels nice— huh, princess?" he croons knowingly as he grabs the next toy: your pretty pink plug, custom-made with genuine Swarovski crystals embedded in the base. "Don't worry, angel. Gonna get it nice and slick for you, make sure nothing hurts for my pretty little girl." Eyeing your dripping folds, he hums in approval. "Such a good girl, getting so messy for me already."

Your mind floats safely through your tiny headspace as Ransom preps the plug with plenty of lubricant, earning a quiet whimper from you as he begins rubbing the blunted tip up against your puckered hole. "Easy baby, shhh," he soothes you once more, bringing one hand up to tap against the hard plastic encasing your clit as the other begins working the plug into you. He releases the pump before squeezing it again and again at a quick, teasing pace, your poor puffy button getting sucked up over and over by the tool.

Your breaths deepen, heart thumping faster and faster as your clit pulsates in pleasure, the sensation of the plug stretching you out in your most sensitive of places bringing you closer and closer to the edge in little time at all. Attentive as always, Ransom senses your growing arousal with ease. "Good girl, that's my sweet little y/n. That feel nice, baby? You like it when Daddy plays with your clit and plugs up your pretty little bottom? Poor little girl— so tight, aren't you?" he mocks pity, the heat in your tummy growing as he slides the plug in and out of your burning hole, letting it stretch you out as far as it can without quite giving you the satisfaction of inserting it fully to sit nicely in its intended place.

"P-please Daddy," you pout, bottom lip trembling as he toys with your ass, letting out a gasp as he sucks your needy button up fully again before plunging two thick fingers into your neglected cunt. "O-oh Daddy... thank you Daddy, I— please, please Daddy..." Ransom grins at the sound of your increasing desperation. The first orgasm is always his favorite; he loves dragging it out, watching as it creeps up slowly, then before either of you know it, all at once.

"There you go, babygirl. Just needed this pretty little pussy filled up, huh?" he sings, the pads of his fingers curling up against your tender ceiling as you grit your teeth, tears building in your eyes as you pass the point of no return.

"Please Daddy, I-I'm gonna— please," you heave.

"Go ahead, baby," Ransom murmurs, giving you a knowing nod as he works his hands faster, bringing you right to orgasm at his simple command, "cum for me. Theere," he hums, a satisfied look washing over his face as he witnesses you coming completely undone before him.

Clenching down against the plug and your daddy's fingers, you completely let go, gushing steadily against his ministrations. Your climax is long, steady, and intense, pathetic whimpers sputtering out of you once you finally begin to drift back down to earth. Ransom carries you through it with care, working your most sensitive places as long as he can to give you as pleasurable of an orgasm as possible. Only when you're finally winding down does he slow, bringing his drenched fingers up to his lips to taste your sweet juices.

"So good for me, angel," his voice is low, tender as he finally pushes the plug in fully, watching as it nestles itself perfectly into place against your trembling rosebud. Free hand coming up to rub your tummy gently, he coos as it still spasms lightly from your euphoric high. "So proud of you, sweetheart. Did so well for Daddy, that feel good?"

"Mhmm," you hum, gazing at him through half-closed lids as you soak in the dreamy waves of pleasure still coursing through your veins. "So good, thank you Daddy," you mewl sweetly.

"You're so welcome, little one. Now let's see here," he muses, bringing his attention back up to your clit as it sits swollen in its clear cage. "Oh my," he breathes as he lets it out of the pump with a pop, the magic workings of the device and the cream visible as the little bundle of nerves now sits completely exposed and hardened, just begging to be loved on. "So puffy, baby. Look at you," he enthuses, placing a hand behind your head to bring it forward, forcing you to look at your poor, abused sex.

"S-so puffy," you agree, eyes widening as he reaches for the bottle of lube, gently dripping some down against the knot of flesh. The sensation of the cool liquid hitting your most sensitive spot brings tears to your eyes once more.

"Think I've bullied your poor little button enough, huh?" he frowns as he grabs a small, cordless wand from beside you— another favorite. "Think it deserves some relief. What do you say, princess?"

"Y-yes Daddy, please Daddy," you drool as you rest your head back against the pillows once more, the sound of the wand switching on already overwhelming you with anticipation.

Pressing three fingers into your messy heat this time, Ransom gives no warning before bringing the head of the wand down to begin working over your clit. You jolt at the intensity, earning a light chuckle from the dark-haired man as he begins pumping his digits in and out of you once more, singing, "There, that's what you needed, isn't it? Just needed Daddy to tie you down and let you cum? How long d'you think you'll last this time, sweetheart?" he wonders aloud.

But you're already teetering towards the edge again, the wand being swirled over your throbbing clit in slick, steady circles enough to make your mind go completely numb. And that's all Ransom wants; that's all he's wanted from the beginning: to reduce you down to nothing but whimpers and moans, a drippy, darling mess at the mercy of his skilled hands. "Please... please..." Your vocabulary is shrinking by the second as his fingers speed up against your burning walls.

"You don't have to beg, baby. You can cum, can cum as many times as you need. Daddy's gonna take care of you, sunshine," he promises as you reach your second high, tears and spit dribbling down your chin as you squirt out against your daddy's hands once more. He praises you softly and sweetly, letting you ride out your orgasm for as long as you can. Your juices crackle against the hum of the vibrator as you squeeze your eyes shut, heart pounding in your throat as you wait seconds, minutes, what feels like forever for the ripples of pleasure to finally subside.

"Hmmph... Daddy..." your own voice sounds miles away from you as you stay in your daze, head entirely somewhere else as you feel the wand being run up and down your soaked slit.

"Daddy's here, angel. Doin' so good for me— let's see if you can give me another one, hm?"

quietly tagging @onsunnyside in dis bc. dis is puff puff behavior fr.

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sooniessoulmate · 1 month

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🌹🌹𝖍𝖞𝖚𝖓𝖌 𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖘𝖆𝖜 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖈𝖗𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌🌹🌹

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ilrjsm · 11 months

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My best friend is no longer my best friend! (he’s my boyfriend)

pairing - bff!renjun x reader

synopsis - You've known him for most of your life. And truth be told, who wouldn't have a (major!!) crush on this pretty boy? Out of all the instances you’ve fallen in love with Huang Renjun, you've never once regretted it.

warnings - profanity, reader & renjun being awfully dense, nothing that serious

wc: 1.7k+

There were four times you fell in love with Huang Renjun all over again and each time, you fell harder than before.

i. Van Gogh in the 21st century!

You met Renjun when you were about 5. back then, he was nothing but a timid artsy kid who refused to show you his sketchbook. Of course, provided your natural talent towards convincing people, it was merely a game for you to acquire (read: snatch) that book. You very well recall how he had glared at you, snatching the book back just as quick and flicked your forehead as he did so.

Ever since then, the little timid kid had grown up to absolutely not permit you in his room until and unless he hid his stash of sketchbooks. Which in your honest opinion was a blatant waste of time.

Okay, maybe you felt a bit offended by his actions. Was he hiding a whole Van Gogh in his sketchbooks or what? Why, just why couldn't he let you peek into them at least once? You took the challenge of finding his cherished artworks upon yourself one fine day. It wasn't as easy as you thought it would be, but with the handful of flatteries you gave Mrs Huang, she was ever ready to lead you to this stash.

You were dubious at first, as the first few pages you turned looked nothing different than overrated paintings. But then you found the real deal.

That was the first time you realised your love for him - at a raw age of 15, you were heads over heels for this boy who had his sketchbooks filled with candid portraits of none other than you.

You wished you could look at yourself from his eyes because you were nowhere close to being this stunning.

ii. Huang renjun was p(r)etty as fuck.

You see, Renjun wasn't quite the bright, excited boy ever since he turned into an adolescent. He laughed at your lame puns, sure, but only you knew how painful his forehead flicks could be if you ever did something reckless.

Like that one time when you were at a party at Donghyuck’s (some guy from your statistics class who just turned 18), you figured Renjun wasn't invited - naturally, given he had absolutely no clue who this Donghyuck dude was and vice versa. However, when he realised you’d probably be intoxicated as hell by the end of it, he immediately dragged you out, albeit a little too late.

You had very obnoxiously protested (“Do you not trust me, Renjun?” You dragged out each syllable, a prominent pout on your lips. Renjun deadpanned and scoffed, “No, actually.” a long whine escaped your chapped lips, and you licked them before hanging your arms around his neck, his own tracing oddly comforting circles on the small of your back. “You know what?” you were already tipsy, Renjun noted, “i hate you.” he froze. Scanning his flabbergasted expression, you laughed loudly, only pressing your body closer to his. “I hate how you act so rough on the edges, c’mon Jun, let loose!” he sighed, using his free hand to push away your self-cut, grown out bangs aside. “I’d rather not, y/n,”)

According to your shitty memory, you blacked out after that, but Renjun's pink ears, when you asked him if anything had happened, begged to differ.

All you remembered was how attractive he looked under the dim moonlight that night, his damp hair moving with the wind. Oh, you remembered his gaze averting from your lips to the dark surroundings, you remembered tuning out Donghyuck’s distant voice calling out for you while you stared at his lips. You remembered the glacial breeze capturing you both in its hold, causing you to shift closer to him. You remembered nothing from that night, but falling for Huang Renjun all over again.

iii. you + donghyuck = renjun’s obvious jealousy

You didn't need to hide your self-proclaimed infatuation for Renjun, as it had occurred to you that:

1. Renjun was so dense (you were probably denser, give or take).

2. You’d grown accustomed to masking your obvious attraction towards him with time.

At one point, you even forgot that you liked (read: loved) Renjun. In your defence, it had been finals week.

But you were harshly reminded of that fact when Donghyuck had asked you out on a date, and you felt too bad to reject him right away.

No, that wasn't a reminder for you that you had a massive crush on your best friend, it was when donghyuck took you to the same cafe the said best friend worked at for the date. He, more than hurt, was baffled. He had mouthed to you, I didn't know about this? And so you mouthed back, Sorry, it was impulsive.

Renjun nonetheless took your order, and pointed at an empty table right in front of his sight, just to be on the, quote unquote, safer end.

Donghyuck was a funny guy. His jokes and perfectly timed flirtatious comments made you giggle like a teenager who was talking to her crush.

Now was when the vile jealousy and hurt pooled in Huang's gut. Donghyuck brushing back your hair just like he would was his last straw. Time was fortunately on his side, and his shift hand ended. So, he spammed your phone with calls and texts, causing you to pick it up in a final defeat, with a long sigh of aggravation. “I’ll be right back, sorry.” (That was lie, you eventually forgot about him)

As soon as you exited the cafe, and stormed to the back of the cafe where Renjun would be, you were greeted by a bitter looking Renjun. “What?” you’d asked him, folding your arms over each other. “What?” he mimicked, scowling. Groaning, you threw your arms up in exasperation. “Renjun!”

He incredulously glowered down at you, “one date and he already seems in love with you!” he exclaimed. “Isn't that good? I'm finally scoring myself a boyfriend.” you teased back.

To anyone else, it was painfully obvious of the lingering feelings you both had towards each other. Apparently, everyone but both of you could make that out (even Donghyuck). Renjun had never looked scarier as he gritted his teeth, a muscle in his jaw inevitably twitching. “Fine… fine! Whatever! I don't care.”

“I never asked if you did- OW!”

That was the hardest forehead flick you had received from him.

iv. 23 things you liked about him.

One of the many things you loved about Huang Renjun was his music taste. It was one of the most beautiful things that just screamed… Renjun. You both had had a tendency to visit the record store often during high school, but not so much anymore provided you both were on the verge of bankruptcy and you had little to no time to spare as you were in the final year of uni.

For you, it was a long forgotten hobby, but for Renjun, it was a place he’d constantly confided in, and now that it was gone, it left an empty hole in his heart (which, for the record, was mostly filled with you).

You knew his favourite albums, all his favourite tracks from over the years. Just like he had a couple of sketchbooks filled with you, you had a whole shelf dedicated to the albums he had recommended you and somewhere in there, you had a book filled with his likings, mainly songs.

He was once again laying on your bed, head propped against his folded arms as he stared at the ceiling. “You study too much, it's boring.” his gaze stopped at the white cupboard beside your bed, the top two shelves packed with vinyls. He was surprised by how your collection kept growing, a part of him also envied how you bought so many of them while he usually just borrowed them.

Standing out from the rest was a sage green, hardback book, and curiosity got the best of him. The male sat up with a grunt, proceeding to make his way to the furniture. As soon as he got a hold of the book, he flipped through it carelessly, his eyes catching his name being written in bold on the very first page.

RENJUN

what he likes <3

Every other page had something similar, and if he weren't your best friend (who reciprocated your feelings) he’d think this was borderline obsessive.

He read each one of them intently, eventually reading through all of it until he reached the part of the book where you wrote what you liked about him.

There were many, but he counted them to be twenty-two. He shut the book with a cocky chuckle, moving towards you - who was yet studying diligently. He smacked your head (gently) with the book, catching your attention. “What is it now?” You grumbled, eyes unmoving from the book in your hands. He hit your head with the hard book again, and this time around you actually looked up. “Hey, Huang Renjun, what if I get a concussion?”

That’s when you spot it. “Wait, shit, where’d you find that book?!”

He pointed towards the shelf with his thumb, placing the book down on your desk instead. “I must admit, you know about everything I love,” You had the urge to yet again dig a hole for yourself, “but you missed out on one thing.”

Your eyebrows raised, “What?”

He placed both his hands on either side of the chair’s armrest, effectively caging you. “You.”

Your knees went weak, and you could practically hear your heartbeat drum in your ears at his words. A fresh glow coated your cheeks, and you had to look away from him to not collapse then and there. Good lord, you seriously needed to get a hold on yourself. Just how many times had you fallen in love with him over and over again? Because you just did again.

Clearing your throat in pure discomfiture, you gathered any courage you had left and looked straight into his eyes - why did he look at you like you saved the damn world? He had a pretty smile adorning his lips, and you noticed how his own ears were red. Unable to take his strong gaze, you looked away again, neck hot.

23. There were 23 things you liked about him - you liked that he loved you back.

That was the biggest achievement in your life.

Huang Renjun, your sole archnemesis from kindergarten, your artist, your best friend, your crush, loved you just as much as you loved him. You couldn’t ask for anything else.

…Okay, maybe you could ask for some courage.

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theragethatisdesire · 4 months

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satoru has a bit of an oral fixation

thinking ab satoru shoving two fingers down your throat, using them as an anchor to shove against your jaw and force you to meet your own teary reflection in the mirror.

“shut up,” he hisses, fingers of his other hand digging into your hip hard enough to make you stutter out a whimper, “don’t want to get caught, do you?”

“mm-mm.” you shake your head pleadingly, desperately- after all, isn’t that all it is with satoru? a game of pleading and seeing what he chooses to oblige.

“i almost believe you.” satoru grins, nasty and cruel into the mirror, and thrusts into you hard enough to make you sob, wretched and shrill and muffled around your makeshift gag.

you try and beg, knowing it’s hopeless but praying otherwise. “please, ‘toru!”

satoru chuckles at your warped words, scissors his fingers in your mouth and makes you gag.

“c’mon now, eyes forward, ass out.” he lands a quick succession of snacks to your ass, groaning quietly as he watches the skin grow warm and discolored. you thrash against him, not sure if you’re begging him to free you or drag you down further into his depravity, likely the latter.

satoru thrusts his fingers in and out of your mouth at the same rhythm as his hips smack against yours from the back, slow and deep and deliberate and enough to get your jaw slackening. he grabs at your chin sharply, an unfriendly reminder to tighten your lips around him and suck, or else.

“be good, yeah? there you go. now, let’s see how long you can make it without screaming.”

#SORRY #this isn’t even good i was just #having mean toru thoughts <333 #he’s so dreamy!#rage.rambles #satoru #gojo drabble

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supernaturalfreewill · 11 months

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“Cas—what’s on your mind? I can tell it’s something. You’re worried.” You scooted closer to the angel and he watched as your hand landed gently on his leg. He gulped at the accompanying rush of heat it always produced, still, always.

“I—I’m not the same as I used to be, when—when we met,” he said. You could almost feel the deep reverberation of his voice.

You gave him a questioning look and waited patiently for him to go on.

He ducked his gaze, his cobalt eyes fixed toward his hands, which were fiddling anxiously. “I just—I’m worried that you’ll wake up one day and realize I’m not the being you fell in love with,” he said. Speaking the words aloud felt almost like a knife twisting in his chest.

You sighed and he watched your expression relax some, though he couldn’t understand why. “That’s what you’re worrying about? Oh, Cas...” You swept a finger softly along his jaw and it shot his eyes back up to meet yours, puzzled. “All of us change and evolve over time. When you choose to love someone, you’re choosing to love a different version of them every day, every month, every year. If you just love the original then—” you shrugged, “you’re in love with someone who doesn’t exist anymore. I’m not the same as when we first met either. And the thing is, it doesn’t matter. I’ll always choose you. I’ll keep choosing you every day, from now to eternity.”

He looked back at you, bewildered. “How—how did I get so lucky with you?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

You smiled widely at him. “It’s not luck, Cas. You really are just this good.”

The angel took you gently into his arms, brushed his finegrs through your hair, and kissed you, any stress or worry completely resolved by your steadfast determination to love him.

#cas fluff #MAH HEART #castiel fluff #cas x reader #cas x y/n #cas x you #cas in love #he's so cute #and dreamy #dreamy also #supernational imagines #spn #cas drabbles #writing prompts

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magicaldreamfox1 · 10 days

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dreamy drabbles

KINNPORSCHE TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY EVENT

— prompt: heist

"What else?"

Vegas walks into the room just in time to overhear Macau's question. Him and Pete are sitting at the table, Macau leaning in as if he's interrogating Pete.

"Uhm, I don't know..."

"What's going on?" Vegas interrupts.

"P'Pete is telling me about all the cool things he did." Macau contemplates for a second. "What about a heist?"

Pete nods and Macau lights up.

"What did you steal?" Another pause. His eyes narrow and he jabs out a finger in Vegas' direction. "If you say some shit like 'his heart' I'm never talking to you again."

Pete just grins.

#i like this one it's cute #vegaspete #vegaspetemacau #kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche fic #kp fics #bl shows #userboots #taggingmarion #saturntracks #dreamy drabbles #kpanniversary2024

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nayeliq1 · 11 months

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Dreamy Drabbles

Collection post for the drabble challenge hosted by the wonderful @starcrosseddeancas

June 5h: Dream

June 6th: Lies

June 7th: Stars

June 8th: Touch

June 9th: Cowboy Boots

June 10th: Lonely

June 11th: Tied-Up

June 12th: Adventure

#dreamy drabbles #dreamydrabble #dreamy drabble collection #collection post #drabble collection #destiel drabble #spn drabble #destiel #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #my writing #prompt drabble

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fleurlia · 4 months

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hi guyys, i thought it would be nice if you could help me decide what im writing next.

rn im in love with riize and ofc nct dream, so im gonna leave the options, and it would be great if you guys could help me!

all of them would be scenarios or fics!

thank you bestiesss! 🫶🏻

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wrixthesley · 1 year

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contents: feelings, a smidge of angst, not really smut but there’s mentions of it, summer time, not proof read, i took one of his voicelines

Kazuha is the sweetest lover. His touches are gentle, he only knows how to be patient and kind to you. His words are soothing and he communicates so effectively.

His down side is that he never stays put. He moves with the wind he says, he can’t remain stagnant.

“I love you always.” You tell him, kissing his forehead before he takes his sword and leaves your aching for him all over again.

You never know when he’ll come back, one year he came back on a boat. He always brings you something from his travels, he gushes about the people and things he sees.

He begs you to come with him even though you both know you can’t.

It’s not good for him to get attached, he knows this, yet he doesn’t hesitate to stumble into your house late at night. The air is sticky, Inazuma summers are always sticky, but he longs to feel your skin underneath his finger tips.

He doesn’t mean to wake you, he just needed some company. He can’t help but stare at your dewy skin, your sheets long kicked off your body and now on the floor. Your breasts are pretty under the moonlight and suddenly he’s reminded of your parting gift from his previous good bye.

He doesn’t mean to wake you but he sits next to you on your bed, asking if it’s okay if he strips because it’s so hot. You can’t help but watch as sweat highlights taut muscle, you’re always amazed at how fit he is beneath his clothes.

He really doesn’t mean to wake you but he can’t help but take your hand into his or press him lips against yours. You’re his only constant, the one person he can come to no matter how far he goes, and the only person he thinks of when he travels.

He accepts that he’s woken you up when you keen for him to slot his knee in between your legs, when your tongue swipes across his lips and you’re allowing him to cage you in with strong arms.

You accept to let him in, over and over again, even if these moments are fleeting. You’ll beg for him to stay longer, beg for him to fill you up, to bring you to your high, and to hold you while you come back down.

You’ll accept his kiss while he’s still inside of you, warm and hard, ignoring the sweat that beads down both of your bodies and ignoring that you must have been loud enough to let the neighbors know Kazuha came by to see you.

You’ll feel his kiss to your temple once more and you’ll remember in the morning that your grandmother told you that sailors only break your heart. They leave behind strings of broken people when they leave the cities the frequent.

Kazuha is different though, he’s not a full fledged sailor. Just a samurai who wanders with the wind, you’re bound to run into him again some day soon. The maple leaves will turn red and he’ll always call you home.

“The fate that brings people together is not a cord so easily cut.”

#kazuha smut #kazuha x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #kazuha kaedehara x reader #kazuha x y/n #kazuha x you #kaedehara kazuha smut #genshin impact x you #kazuha drabbles #kazuha scenarios #he’s so dreamy

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dreamwatch · 7 months

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STWG daily drabble - 20/09/23

Prompt: really late

c/w 9/11 attacks - there are no specifics

(This is… a weird one. I was watching a documentary about 9/11 earlier so that’s clearly what triggered this. Also, I might have taken some liberties with that prompt… )

****

He hasn’t moved from the sofa for hours.

The images haven’t changed. He’s been watching them all day. Steve’s already turned the television off twice and tried to pull him away, but he won’t go. He doesn’t know if Steve is trying to protect Eddie or trying to protect himself.

He hears the bedroom door click, socked feet padding softly down the hall.

“It’s really, really late, Eddie. Come on.”

He looks at the clock. It doesn’t feel like there’s an early or a late right now, a morning or a night. Just never ending fear and horror played out on a tv set.

“I want you to quit.”

“What?”

Eddie turns to face him, and Steve looks exhausted. They’ve asked for volunteers, there are firefighters from across the city making the twelve hour drive tomorrow, and of course Steve volunteers. Of course he does.

“You heard me.”

They stare at each other, two thirty somethings in their pyjamas in a Mexican standoff. He’s not going to be the one to give in. Steve is so painfully tolerant of his petulant bullshit that he never has to.

Steve let’s out a sigh that carries such weight, a rolling news cycle let loose into the air in their apartment. He sits down on the couch, elbows on knees, all sluggish movements and heavy limbs. Pained. Lost.

He’s always been so strong, always Eddie’s hero.

(How handsome he looked on graduation day, the dress uniform, Eddie wearing the gloves and his hat, laughing, loving, happy. A future.)

“Eddie…”

“I don’t want you to do this.”

Another sigh.

“I won’t be gone long.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And they’re not going to do anything else -”

“You don’t know that! You can’t possibly fucking know that!”

Steve stands and grabs the remote from the coffee table, points and clicks. The horror shut out. But it’s still in the room. It’s been let loose now, like radiation, can’t see it but it’s there. They live in a time now where there was a before, a line of demarcation cut across dates.

He feels Steve’s hand tug at his.

“You’re right, I can’t know that. I don’t know when I’m coming home. I don’t know if it’s safe. So can we please just go to bed so that I can spend some time with you before I have to leave?”

They stare at each other, two thirty somethings in their pyjamas, an unspoken conversation this time. They’re scared. They’re going to be okay. They love each other.

Steve pulls him up from the couch, and they hold hands, turning the lights off behind them as they head back to their bedroom.

#Steddie #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #drabble #stwgdailyprompt #dreamy writes #cw 9/11

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