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doumadono · 8 months ago

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sinful sunday - can i ask for wrio and reader who rides him after a training she had with him (sry for my english)

Warnings: smut w/o plot, smut, cunnilingus, cowgirl, creampie, fem!reader

A/N: this request got the second number of votes during the third Sinful Sunday poll. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY GENSHIN IMPACT

The training sessions with Wriothesley were never easy, but today had been particularly grueling.

The sweat trickled down your spine as you leaned against the cool stone wall of the training room, trying to catch your breath. Wriothesley, the stern and unwavering Duke of Meropide, had pushed you to your limits, and beyond.

"You're improving," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your exhausted body. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, the muscles in his arms flexing under his damp shirt. His intense gaze met yours.

"Thanks to you," you replied, managing a smile despite your weariness.

He stepped closer, the proximity making your heart race faster than the intense sparring session had. "It's not just me," he said, his eyes darkening as they raked over your form. "You have strength within you. You just need to unleash it."

His words hung heavy in the air, laden with a meaning that transcended the physical training you had just endured. You had always admired his determination and unyielding spirit, but lately, those feelings had morphed into something deeper, something more primal.

"Wriothesley," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "There's something I've been wanting to tell you."

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. The intensity of his gaze made it difficult to find the right words, so you opted for action instead. Stepping closer, you placed a tentative hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under your palm.

Without another word, you climbed your tippy toes, and leaned in, pressing your lips to his.

For a moment, he didn't respond, and you feared you had crossed a line. But then his hands were on your waist, pulling you closer, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that left you breathless.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, the dark haired man smirked. "You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N," he growled, his grip on your waist tightening.

"I know," you replied, your voice trembling with anticipation. "But it's a risk I'm willing to take."

With a low growl, he captured your lips again, his kiss demanding and possessive.

You melted against him, your hands roaming over his broad shoulders, feeling the hard muscles beneath. The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of sweat and something uniquely Wriothesley.

He broke the kiss abruptly, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Are you sure you want this?"

"More than anything," you replied, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions raging inside you.

That was all the confirmation he needed. In a swift motion, he lifted you into his arms, carrying you to the nearby cot where you often rested after training. He laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours as he stripped off his shirt, revealing the chiseled perfection of his body.

You couldn't tear your gaze away, your breath hitching as he crawled over you, his weight pressing you into the cot. His hands were everywhere, exploring every curve of your body with a reverence that made you ache for more. When his lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, you couldn't suppress the moan that escaped your lips.

"Wrio," you gasped, your fingers tangling in his dark hair.

He growled in response, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you shiver with anticipation. "Say my name again," he commanded, his voice rough with desire as his calloused hands slipped under your tank top, squeezing your breasts harshly.

"Wriothesley," you breathed, the sound of his name on your lips sending a thrill through you.

His hands moved lower, tugging at the hem of your top.

You helped him remove it, the cool air of the training room a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your bodies. When his hands cupped your breasts again, his thumbs teasing your nipples, you arched into his touch, your moans growing louder.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone. "So strong, so fierce."

You could barely form a coherent thought, let alone respond as his mouth traveled lower, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

When the Duke reached the waistband of your shorts, he paused, his eyes meeting yours in a silent question.

"Please," you whispered, your voice trembling with pure need.

With a smirk, he obliged, removing your shorts and panties in one swift motion. The cool air against your heated skin made you shiver, but the sight of Wriothesley between your legs quickly erased any discomfort.

His lips and tongue explored your stomach, gliding over the taut muscles and down to your mound. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide as he lowered his mouth to your pretty pussy.

The first touch of his tongue was electric, a jolt of pleasure that had you crying out his name.

He was relentless, his mouth and tongue working in tandem to drive you wild.

He traced his tongue into you, flicking along your needy clit, sending waves of pleasure through your tensed body.

You moaned, trying to wiggle closer to get his tongue pressed harder against your moist folds.

Slowly, he licked you, watching you writhe and moan in pleasure, taking satisfaction in the effect he had on your body. Soon, Wriothesley began to lick faster, working you into a frenzy. Just as you teetered on the edge of orgasm, he plunged two fingers deep inside you, thrusting them hard as he suckled your bud.

Your hands clutched at the edges of the cot, your body writhing under his touch. "Wriothesley," you gasped, your voice breaking as the pressure built within you. "I can't… I'm going to —"

He didn't let up, his eyes locking onto yours as he pushed you over the edge.

Your climax hit you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing with the force of it. Your release came swiftly, your juices spilling onto his tongue and chin.

He eagerly lapped at you, savoring the sweet taste as you climaxed. “That’s my girl.” He held you through it, his hands soothing and grounding as you slowly came back to yourself. Before you could fully recover, he was on you again, his mouth claiming yours in a bruising kiss.

You could taste your juices on his lips. "Wrio," you panted, your hands fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants. "I need you. Now."

He groaned, the sound vibrating through you as he quickly discarded his remaining clothes. When he finally pressed against you, the feel of his hard length against your slick folds had you moaning in anticipation.

But you decided you wouldn't let him reclaim his dominance this time, as he had so many times before, whether at work, during training, or anywhere else. Wrapping your legs tightly around his hips and your arms around his neck, you summoned all your strength and rolled with him, pinning him to the mattress. You mounted him like he was a stallion, determined to take control.

Wriothesley's eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, he seemed taken aback, not used to having his control usurped so suddenly. But before he could protest, you silenced him with a passionate kiss, your lips melding with his in a fierce dance of desire.

You could feel his initial surprise melting away, replaced by a burning need. As you kissed him deeply, you ground your slick pussy gently against his erect member, the friction sending electric jolts of pleasure through both of you.

His calloused hands found their way to your hips, gripping them with a mix of desperation and delight as he surrendered to the sensation.

The feel of him, hard and ready against your pussy, made you moan softly.

You lifted one leg, positioning yourself over him, and grabbed his thick cock to guide it into your needy hole. Slowly, you worked your way down, inch by inch, until your pussy lips reached the base of his cock. The sensation of Wriothesley filling you, stretching you, was overwhelming. You paused, savoring the feeling, before beginning to move. Leaning forward, you placed your hands on either side of his muscular shoulders for support. Your breasts hung down over him, and his hands found them like magnets, kneading the flesh gently.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight, babe,” Wriothesley murmured before lifting his head slightly to wrap his lips around one of your nipples.

You started to move your pelvis up and down, gasping. “Yes, yes, yes, oh dear Archon!”

Wriothesley began to lift his pelvis in sync with yours, hitting all of the sweet, spongy spots deep within your drenched pussy.

You raised your hips together, his massive cock deep inside you, then he lowered his hips, pulling part way out of your cunny. You then lowered yourself back onto him, pushing him back in your tight hole. “Just like that, Wrio!”

He groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrust up to meet you. "You're incredible," he growled, his eyes locked onto yours.

The sound of your breathless moans, and the slap of skin against skin filled the room, echoing off the stone walls. There was just you and him, and no one else existed.

As his movements grew more urgent, you sensed from the way his hands tightened on your breast and hip, and from the rhythm of his thrusts that he was close to cuming. You sped up your movements, riding him harder until he gasped and stilled beneath you. You lowered your pelvis onto him, taking him as deep as you could, and watched as he surrendered to his release.

Your body trembled, your nails digging into his chest as you rode out your own waves of pleasure.

"Fuck!" Wriothesley cursed as he spilled his seed deep within you. He could feel your velvety walls spasming around his throbbing length as if trying to milk every drop of his cum.

For a long moment, you stayed there, entwined, your bodies slick with sweat and trembling with the aftershocks of your passion.

Wriothesley pulled you down into his arms, his grip firm and reassuring as you nestled against his chest, his cock still buried deep within you. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft.

"More than okay," you replied, a satisfied smile spreading across your face as you pecked his cheek.

"Good," he said, his hands caressing your back, and moving down to playfully squeeze the meat of your ass. "Because I want to do this again. And again."

You laughed, the sound light and carefree. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

#doumadonos sinful sunday 🔥#sinful sunday #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley x reader smut #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x you #wrio smut #wrio x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin smut #wriothesley genshin #divider by cafekitsune

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glamourscat · 2 months ago

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Omg I love that last Tim annon so bad I saw the exact post that they were talking abt and though I love the writer the Tim flanderization is so wild like have u looked at how he’s drawn in the comics??? Like he’s not Jason level ripped but u can’t tell me that he’s not even a little jacked 😭😭 + it honestly rly upsets me that ppl ran w the whole coffee addict thing like like my boy enjoy his zetsi in peace ☹️ ALSO ANOTHER THING ik that Tim having an awful sleep schedule is a thing in cannon but ppl make it seem like he doesn’t sleep at all when like he literally takes power naps all the time like bro deadass fell asleep on a roller coaster once and also this is lowkey unrelated but I don’t feel like ppl don’t make much use of the fact that bro is literally a master of disguise and has multiple disguises in fics like it would be so cute

But anyway that post awoke SMT within me sry for the yap I just love him so bad 😞🙏🏽🙏🏽

it's funny considering in canon he is drawn like this ->

lean, sure. But with a bit of muscles. Like, bro has been training since he was 14. And, i'm pretty sure we all do not care what DC says, they are all over the places with ages (like girl Jason is DEFINETLY NOT 19. He is pushing 25 lmao) but Tim is 22, period.

Anyway, i agree with everything you said! The last bit of your post inspired me to write something short, so here it is :) ⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹ “Tim, are you ready?” you shouted from his private bathroom, where you were finishing the last touch up of makeup before heading out to this secret mission you two had.

It was supposed to be an easy thing really. Nothing too difficult. Yet, when you walked out, after not getting a response back, you were expecting everything but not what you saw. Why is your boyfriend dressed up as a woman? Is that a wing? And.. a pair of silicone breasts? What in the world– And why does he look so good?

“Well, i can’t say i mind the view” you chuckle softly going behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. Your head on his shoulder, gently leaving a kiss on it. The long hair from the blonde wig he was wearing tickling your neck.

“I know right? I look hot” he says grinning in the mirror as he finishes applying the lipstick so expertly on his plump, pink lips.

“Is just.. Funny how you did not even react” he continued amused, finishing his look with a touch of perfume.

Damn he looks so hot. Even more than usual.

“I mean, it’s you. I am used to it now. Still, I suppose it’s for tonight’s mission, correct?”

“Yeah” he hummed, looking at himself in the mirror one last time, pulling his black dress slightly down, before putting his heels on.

Since when does he know how to walk on heels? but, most importantly, since when does he own a pair of heels?

“Alright, let's go. We are going to be late” he said, opening and closing his hand extending it towards you. A sign that he wanted you to hold his hand.

“Yes, ma'am” you grinned, giving him a subtle– or maybe not so subtle– squeeze on his rear before moving to hold his hand as you two go out.

This is going to be a long night indeed.

#tim drake x reader #tim drake #tim drake x you #batboys x reader #tim drake fanfiction #tim drake fic #batfamily fanfiction

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lotus-pear · 1 year ago

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Chuuvia besties clorinzai worsties

so true tumblr user evilkaeya sry for the infinitely late response i had to draw their first meeting in my head

dazai would make sure to be on his best behavior around chlorinde bc she could fold his ass in a second

#edit: NO OMFG I DONT SHIP THEM THEYRE BOTH GAY FOR FUCKS SAKE.. THIS IS A JOKE (anons in the ask box need to take a joke fr)#yk actually. part 2 where she just kicks him in the ribs with her nine inch stillettos puncturing his stomach #chuuvia sipping tea in the corner completely ignoring their unhinged partners #genshin imapct #bsd #lotus’s asks #lotus draws

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onlycrystal · 2 years ago

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nanami brain-rot

cw! professor!nanami x student!reader (age gap; reader is in her 20s, kento in his 30s), ddlg, sexual content (im too lazy to write allat)

not proof read, I wrote this in like 30 min at 1am im sry if it aint too good

currently thinking about professor! nanami...

who is sitting at the coffee table of his cozy, charactered apartment. he reads the latest newspaper and sips his earl-grey tea, relaxed, much unlike you. finals are coming up, and since you can barely understand general chemistry, your procrastination gets the best of you. you’re seated on nanami’s sofa, wearing one of his oversized collared shirts. he always thinks its so cute how they completely engulf you in fabric. however, 7 unfinished, late assignments from professor suguru’s class, are all due in a week.

you groan and bury your face into the palms of your hands, “you will not pass my class if you dont submit those assignments” you mock your professors words, and stare back at the unfinished work. suddenly, you realize that you’re in a relationship with a professor. he can help you, right? i mean, he may teach biology, but the man is smart.

“namiiii~” you whine as you look at the blonde, stoic main across the room from you with doe eyes. he replies without looking up from his newspaper, “yes, doll?”

“i dont get this, can you pleaseeee help me?” sighing, nanami gets up from the coffee table and approaches you. “you know how much i hate doing work in my free hours” nanami slightly grumbles as he sits next to you, attaching his long, slender hands to your hips. he slightly picks you up, and moves you between his legs so you're sitting in his lap. “...but for you, ill make an exception.” he rasps against your ear and kisses it. his actions makes you blush, but no. you needed to focus on your work.

“i just don’t understand all these theorems and laws” you whine and shift in his lap, feeling defeated from how deep you've gotten yourself in this shit. you realize you shifted a bit too much and blush hard at the feeling of hardness start to develop from underneath you. nanami leans forward, which brings you to rub against him harder. you blush even harder, and he just points at the paper and begins to explain, “lets start with boyle’s law, darling. you use it when...” you drone out his voice, and embarrassingly enough, find yourself start to heat up down there. you rub your thighs together only slightly so he wont notice. feeling him so hard down there is so distracting. you just wanna forget about all this work and f-

“babygirl, are you even listening to me right now?” you dont even realize he's talking until he speaks that last word, which brings you to snap out of your dirty day dreams and look up at him. you meet his gaze to be acknowledged with a cold gaze. “y-yes! yes, im listening” you stutter out, gulping.

he shuts your notebook a bit harshly and slides it across the table without getting up. he puts his dainty hand on your chin, and forces you to look up at him. “recite boyle’s law.” he says, slightly smirking as he slowly starts to piece together why you weren't listening. your eyes shoot across the room nervously “ummm... i-its.. uh...” you trail off.

he removes his hand from your chin. his large hands meet your hips again, as he moves you closer to him. soon enough, you’re pressed up against his chest and crotch. “aww, is my little girl so desperate she couldnt focus away from daddy?” he whispers in your ear to be met with no response.

he slightly thrusts towards your lower body, earning a sweet whimper to fall from you lips. “asked you a question, baby” you nod your head yes hesitantly and are suddenly turned around. your eyes widen at how close your faces are, and the intimacy of the whole situation. nanami crashes his lips onto yours, which forces a muffled mewl to fall from your lips. his hands travel up and down your body before they meet your chest and begin to fondle your breasts. your whines and whimpers aren’t censored anymore when nanamis lips move onto your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin and turning you into a moaning mess. your hands meet his hair and tug slightly at his blonde locks. his touch was just so satisfying. your body continued to grind on his crotch with was now fully hard, causing you to moan sweetly and kento to groan onto your neck. in desperation, you frantically unloosen his tie and start to undo the buttons of his chemise before he grabs your wrists and stops you. “ah, ah, ah”

he chuckles when he removes himself from your neck and looks at your face. you look desperate; big eyes, pouting lips, lip tint smeared, and hickies on your throat. that said, he wasn’t looking as uniformed as he did. you had messed up his neat hair, got some of your lip tint on his lips so they appeared more kissable than ever, along with his shirt barely even being kept on. grinning, he removes his glasses from his face and cleans them with his shirt. looking down as he cleans them he says, “maybe i gotta fuck some knowledge into my little princess, isn't that right, dear?” he teases, but desperate as you are, you nod without shame. he chuckles at you again, contributing to your embarrassment before putting his glasses on you. “even wearing my shirt, baby, so cute” you blush, and he abruptly hooks his finger around your underwear and tugs them down.

nanami rubs circles you on your clit and teases a finger at your entrance. “d-daddy...” you mewl which only makes him grin harder. “gonna make my baby smart.” he says before he jams 2 digits into you. you throw your arms around his neck, tugging hard at his hair as you’re reduced to moans. he continues fingering you, as he uses the thumb of his other hand to continue rubbing circles on your clit. you squirm in his lap as your orgasm approaches, sweetly moaning as you release all over his fingers. he hums as he stares you in the eyes, licking your slick off his fingers clean.

“since you’ve been so obedient, ill let you ride me.” he says curtly. you blush hard, but the thought of his dick sends butterflies to your stomach. you shyly zip down his pants and bring down his boxers, letting his fully erect cock spring free from his pants. you align yourself with his dick, and slowly let yourself down on his length, inch by inch. you whine at the stretch, and hear nanami let out a low moan. “fuck, you’re so tight” he tilts his head back slightly. finding yourself now comfortable to his length, you slowly start to bounce up and down on his cock. he lets out groans and moans, his hands stay glued to your tits, fondling them with every bounce. you lose your composure, getting even dumber, chemistry the farthest thing from your mind, as his glasses start to go crooked on your face. he looks at you and chuckles “daddy’s cock fuck you even stupider? its okay baby... you feel so fucking good” you whine at his dirty talk, hands gripping his shoulders tightly as you bounce relentlessly on his dick. “n-nami~ gonna- c-cum~” you moan loud as his length hits you in all the right places. he moans into your ear “princess~ fuck” he releases into your pussy as you cream all over his dick. you pant hard as you stay close to his chest, basically hugging him. you face him as he plants a kiss on your cheek and pats your head.

“’ts okay, honey. i have an idea... how bout now i only let you cum if you answer a question correctly?” you gulp, you sure were in for a long afternoon.

#nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento #kento nanami #kento nanami smut #jjk smut #letspretendnanamihasnormalglassesandnotthegreenonesintheshow #professor nanami

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mitsuyaya · 1 year ago

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[ househusband’s gripe ] okkotsu yuuta

contains: 512 words. fluff, reader and yuuta are married

summary: Like all the things in this world, being a househusband has its pros and cons — and the biggest detriment in yuuta's case, is keeping you in his arms for a long time.

end note: cross posting 4/6 of my yuuta's bday bash from ao3. i just missed him sry 😔

jjk masterlist

Without any other complaints, Okkotsu Yuuta loves being a househusband.

It may be because of the simplicity of taking care of his spouse, the home he'll spend his eternity with the person he loves and his little bundles of joy, a product of his love and devotion for you. And possibly, because of how easy it is to dedicate his life, time and effort to something other than exorcising curses.

If the Okkotsu during his teenage years, one that was devoid of warmth and comfort, were to be asked – he would've never seen himself be a househusband, let alone be married to someone other than loneliness.

To be cladded with nothing but the responsibility of keeping the house stable, keeping the home the both of you would live in until your last breath, be filled with comfort, passion and serenity.

It's an unbelievable occurrence that he'll willingly do over and over again – because he knows, it's worth it. Serving you and the family he meticulously crafted is worth it.

Especially when at the end of the day, the house that was barren, that you can almost see a weed tumbling like in an old western movie, would be filled with noises he longs to hear after an exhausting day.

“Darling, I'm home! Did you miss me?”

It's your voice that'll fill the house, that'll fill the emptiness he felt the moment you stepped out of the house and bid him farewell.

But despite the contentment he feels, there's one thing he has a complaint on, there's one thing that makes him irritated — how his job as a househusband meant he can't keep you in his arms for too long.

Maki and the other's said that he's dramatic, complaining about how unfair it is for you to spend all day on your job: leaving first thing in the morning, that sometimes you two don't meet, and returning late in the evening, that oftentimes, he's already asleep.

Call him childish but honestly, he doesn't care. It's unfair, at least to him that is – all he wants is to be cuddled in your warmth or to cuddle you for as long as God would let you both. All he wants is for you to be in his line of sight all the time, to be only filled with your presence and nothing more.

Yuuta, your husband, wants time to stop the exact moment he had you in his arms. He wants it to stay that way, be interrupted by nothing and no one else. He wants to be drowned in your love and attention – it's what he deserves, it's what he needs, it's what he yearns for.

“Darling, why are you so quiet? Don't you want a hug hm?”

It is unfair, it is worth the complain,

but if it meant that it's him you'll be coming home to,

it's you he'll wait for at the front door,

it's him you'll praise for doing a good job,

it's you he'll wake up to —

“Welcome home, pretty. I miss you.”

then, he wouldn't mind, one bit.

#ੈ✩‧₊˚]. constellations #okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #yuuta x reader #yuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff

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ranhaitanisgf · 1 year ago

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congrats on 2k, hana <3 I would like to request a fluff scenario for "delinquent & class president" & "sneaking out to go on a date with them" with shinichiro <3

— shinichiro sano // delinquent & class president // sneaking out to go on a date

☆ ˎˊ˗ hiii key ! this was sooooo cute omg im sry this took so long my disappearance from tumblr was longggg 😭 i kind of didn't emphasize the class president and delinquent thing tooo much but its there if you squint lolol

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 1.0k+

☆ ˎˊ˗ gn!reader implied

masterlist || 2k masterlist

“...are you sure you want to do this?”

“why not? you’re always telling me i need to loosen up more, right?”

“well yeah, but don’t you think this is kinda an extreme first step?” you took a moment to ponder on shinichiro’s words before responding.

“might as well, to be honest. i don’t really want to be home right now anyways. i’d much rather be with you.” you answered, smiling softly at the boy in front of you.

in any case, it might have been a bit of a risky move to still be outside your home twenty minutes after sneaking out of your bedroom, but you were completely sure that nobody would notice, so you weren’t too worried. you could tell by his somewhat worried expression that you hadn’t entirely convinced him, but you just dragged him along, swinging your connected hands back and forth.

“c’mon sano, show me something cool!”

“hey! i thought i told you not to call me that!” shinichiro whined, tugging you back. you turned around to face him, thinking that the somewhat displeased look on his face was rather cute.

“call you what, sano?” you teased, making him groan in response

“stop it! you sound so formal and i don’t like it!” you wrapped your arms around his neck, seeming to ponder something for a moment.

“fine, you win, shinichiro.” the lips you loved to kiss so much turned down into a pout, his hands moving to rest on your hips.

“you couldn’t have gone with something cuter? something like babe, honey, even sweet-”

“stop, before i change my mind!” you interrupted, rolling your eyes at the cheesy nicknames. “how about, i don’t know, we actually go somewhere?”

“leave it to me! just say the word and i’ll take you.” shinichiro said, his thumb jerking towards his bike. “this baby can take us to any place you want.”

you pondered for a moment, swaying back and forth a bit with shinichiro as you weighed different places.

“hm, what is there to do when sneaking out late? nothing’s open…” you murmured, thinking out loud. “we could go to the park, but if anyone saw me they would definitely think that i’m a good for nothing delinquent-ow! hey, i was joking!” you exclaimed, rubbing the spot on your forehead where shinichiro flicked you.

“so you’re saying i’m a good for nothing delinquent?! woow, and here i thought you loved me! oh my goodness! what ever will i do?!” you rolled your eyes at the dramatic performance from the boy in front of you, grabbing the flesh of his cheeks and squishing them together, (you found it cute how instead of complaining about it, he just looked at you the most love you’ve ever seen).

“you knowww i was just joking, shin! now take me somewhere! surprise me with your wily delinquent ways!” your demand was met with a laugh and ruffling of your hair from shinichiro.

“my wily delinquent ways, you say? hah, i guess i have no choice other than to fulfill your desires!” he teased, leading you to his bike. “this brilliant delinquent mind will think of a place to take you!” he plopped his spare helmet onto your head, bringing the strap under your chin to secure it properly.

looking at shinichiro up close was something that you would never get tired of; the darkness of night paled in comparison to his eyes, the inky shade so deep that you wished you could drown in it. contrasting the jet black color of his irises, the care and love that you could always find in his eyes was unrivaled, making it seem like you were the only person in the entire world, everything else fading into the background.

“what’re you thinking about?” shinichiro murmured, finishing clipping the strap for the helmet. it was strange how the two of you could go from teasing and having fun with each other to suddenly being soft and serious, but you didn’t mind it at all.

“mm, nothing much.” you answered, your lips upturned into a soft smile. you pecked him on his cheek, lips pressing against his skin for a bit longer than necessary before pulling away, taking a seat on his bike. “are we going to go?”

“jeez, and they call me a troublemaker. the real troublemaker is this little goody-goody!” shinichiro teased, seating himself in front of you and turning the key in the engine of his bike. his beloved motorcycle revved to life, rumbling softly in the background. “just so you know-”

“your bike is loud, shin! save the talking for when we aren't outside of my house still! let’s goooo-mmph?” the boy in front of you turned around quite suddenly, leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours. it was only for a moment, but just that moment was enough to keep more words from forming, your lips tingling as he leaned back again.

“(y/nnn), it’s not nice to interrupt people, y’know. i was gonna say i love you.” shinichiro pouted, turning back around and promptly ignoring you.

“wait, i’m sorryyyyy, i love you too!” despite your words, he kept ignoring you, kicking the kickstand back and beginning to drive. you wrapped your arms around his waist, propping your chin on his back as you tried to get his attention. “shinnn, i’m sorry! you have to admit, your bike is pretty loud, okay? hey, say something! i’m earnestly apologizing here!”

“hmph.”

“i’m not above tickling you, y’know.” you got no response at that, leading you to slowly poke his sides. you could see him shaking, but there was still no laughter or response, so you amped it up, full on tickling his sides.

“h-hey! do you, hah, do you want me to crash!?” he finally let out, laughs spilling out as he was driving.

“all you had to do was respond, so i’m happy now.” you responded, stopping your tickle attack and returning your arms to their position around his waist. he wasn’t going so fast that you had to hold on for any particular reason, but you liked to use it as an excuse to be close to him. resting your head against shinichiro’s back, the scenery of different buildings and cars flew by, the city lights filling your vision. the pretty sights combined with the faint beating of his heart that you could hear filled you with a sense of serenity; it was absolutely perfect.

yeah, you were pretty damn happy.

191 notes · View notes

swee7dream · 8 months ago

Note

how would the dreamies react to their s/o regressing for the first time in front of them after being super stressed and not being able to be a little ? ^^

it’s been a long time caregiver!nct dream x gender-neutral!regressor!reader

genres sfw age regression content, established relationship, hurt / comfort, angst in some, bits of fluff in all warnings involuntary / vent regression, regression block, negative self-talk, haechan's is long sry dni if you sexualize age regression. not only blocking but also reporting.

author’s note i'm SO sorry this took so long for me to get out. i promise i didn't forget about you, nonnie! i might've geared a little bit ( a lot ) off the prompt at times but i still hope you like it ! thx 4 requesting !

mark lee (ᓀ‸ᓂ) wc 642

With all your responsibilities lately, Mark finds it logical that you don’t regress as often as you used to. The last time he remembers was over three months ago. He misses taking care of you, hearing your sweet voice call out for your 'Mack!'. But he doesn’t want to burden you even more with any expectations to do anything you weren’t feeling up to do. He wasn’t planning to bring it up. Honest.

That was until you started coming home to avoid his kisses and go straight to bed. That moment left a pang in his heart.

In the silence and tension of your apartment, Mark finds himself in your little corner of tiny things, picking up your toys and dusting off your coloring books with longing. He misses his baby, so he’s going to get his baby back, he decides, no matter what it takes.

“Oh look, that new Disney movie came out you said you wanted to go see it, right?”

“I’m tired, Mark.”

“…okay.” He bites the inside of his cheek.

Just keep trying, Mark. You got this.

“Babe, I’m doing laundry. You want me to wash Cheese Doodle?” He knocks at your office door.

“Huh?” You raise your head as if you were a fish out of water. “Uh, yeah. That’s fine. Thank you.”

Hmph.

“What is that?” You give the box in Mark’s hand a look.

“It’s a game. Picked it up at the store. It’s like… Twister? But there’s something different about it. I dunno, I didn’t pay attention to the label and just bought it. Chenle asked that we bring some kind of board game for his party on Saturday.”

“Oh. Well, I have a thing on Saturday so tell him I can’t go but I hope everyone has fun.”

As the saying goes, the fourth time’s a charm.

“You’re not going to bed?” You rub your eyes, already in your night clothes and under the sheets.

“Not really tired,” he replies with a shrug as he makes his way out into the kitchen. “I think I’m gonna make myself some angel milk to get the sleeping juices going. That always worked for you. You want some?”

You’re already pretty tired, the events of the day had sucked every last drop of potential energy from you. Still, some angel milk in all its sweet, vanilla-tasting glory makes you lick your lips.

“…yeah. Please,” you answer.

When he comes back from the kitchen, he has your warm drink in one hand and Cheese Doodle—your orange puppy stuffie—in the other.

“Sit up for me, baby,” he says softly as he sits down on the edge of the bed, not wanting to spill anything from your favorite mug.

“Unicorn…!” You notice, taking the pink and rainbow cup in your two sleeve-clad hands. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.” Mark smiles. “and I just took cheese doodle out of the laundry too. Used the fabric softener that you like. Wanna feel?”

“Oh.” In a second, you’re like a cat rubbing your cheek against Cheese Doodle’s fur. “Smells good, Markie. Thank you.”

”Of course, baby. Feeling tiny?” He asks only now that he’s 95% sure you are.

”Little bit,” you admit into your mug, slurping quietly to not burn yourself.

”Aw.” He pouts. “That’s good. You know, Markie missed you, baby. I haven’t held my baby in such a long time.”

”Missed Markie too.” You blink at him with sleepy eyes and a milk mustache. “Lot.”

”Wanna cuddle for a little then?”

”Just for a lil' bit.” You nod, placing your angel milk on the bedside table.

Mark knows the mug will be forgotten by the morning but he'd rather make and waste a million angel milks than for you to forget him and Cheese Doodle again.

huang renjun ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა wc 594

“Oh that’s a nice painting, Jun,” you praise, resting your chin on his shoulder as he sits on a stool. “Very pretty.”

“I feel like it’s missing something, though,” he says with a frown. “Here. You paint something.”

“On your canvas?” You look at him. “No way, love. I’ll ruin it.”

“You won’t. Now take the brush.”

“I won’t.” You step back and cross your arms. “I’m not gonna mess up this painting you’ve been working so hard on with my clumsiness.”

“What are you talking about? You always add something to my paintings.” Renjun gives you a look. The look that makes you want to roll your eyes.

“And they’re always so much better before me.”

“You don’t think that.”

“I do.”

“Why are you talking about yourself in this way all of a sudden?”

“Because it’s true!” You explode. There’s a burning in the backs of your eyes as you keep talking. “All I’ve been doing lately is messing up stuff for other people. I’m no good, Renjun.”

“…”

“My boss thinks it, my team members think it. I know you think it too!” You sob.

“Darling-”

“Stop it, Jun.”

“Darling,” he repeats, taking your hand in his. “come here.”

He pulls you in with one hand and wipes your tears with another, so careful he almost makes you think you are glass.

“What’s in that green binder in the bookshelf over there?” he asks.

“What?” You furrow your brows. “I don’t know.”

“Go check.”

You give him a look but make your way to the oak bookshelf; filled with sketchbooks, novels, and a singular green binder. You look at Renjun when your fingers touch the spine and take it out only after he nods. Your knees wobble as you flip through the pages so you let your bottom hit the floor.

In the binder are the handwritten notes from back before the two of you even started dating; flirtatious exchanges recorded on coffee shop napkins, gum wrappers, and ripped-up bits of college notes. The next stage of your relationship is at the flip of a page; rushed post-it notes of domestic living with 'I love you!'s and 'Don't forget to eat!'s kept safe in the plastic sheets.

You look up at him with surprise but he only nods his head for you to keep flipping pages. You flip through empty slips until you almost reach the back cover and find all the drawings you’ve made for Renjun over the years while in regression. Each and every one. Even the ones where you're mad at him and have him eaten by monsters.

“You kept them…” You pass a finger over a drawing you made of the two of you, your stickmen-selves holding hands and smiling in a rocket ship.

“Of course I did, baby. How could I throw away something so perfect?” You hear his voice next to you, having gotten up from his seat to crouch next to you on the floor. He gently pulls your head into his chest and his lips drop to kiss the top of your head. “I don’t think you mess up things, my love. Ever. You simply change their direction. My Lovebug is the most creative, innovative person in the whole wide world, didn’t you know?”

“Junnie…” You sob, the dam of pent-up emotions finally seeking release.

“Hi there, babybug.” He whispers. “I’m right here, lovey. Right here. Let it all out.”

lee jeno ૮ .◜◡◝ა wc 655

“Babe, the ice is melting and your coke is turning into gross, brown, sweet-tasting water,” Jeno warns.

“One second, baby. I just need to finish this assignment real quick,” you mutter with your bottom lip bit in place.

It seems you’re still in the same clothes from three days ago, the same amount of time Jeno’s seen you stay in bed studying. He’s beginning to think your butt might be attached permanently to the mattress at this point. When it comes to your bedside table, your 5-hour energy from lunchtime being the latest addition to the food trash and empty water bottle pile doesn’t fill him with any more positive thoughts.

“When’s it for?” He sighs. “Your assignment.”

“…what?” You turn your head to him but your eyes stay on the screen. “Oh, um, Friday.”

“It’s Monday. Come on.” Jeno pulls at your arm like a spoiled child. “I’m not even making you shower or anything. I just wanna hang out with my hermit, stinky, computer nerd. Will you grant me my wish please?”

You look up with a half-offended, half-amused expression and your jaw dropped.

“I’m not stinky!” You fail to shake off your arm from his hold. “I told you I’m coming! I just really need to finish this.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Ye- ah!” You squeal as Jeno pulls at your arm, throwing you over his shoulder. “Jeno! I’m serious!”

“I’m serious too. Monday to Friday is five days-”

“Four days!”

“-and that’s more than enough time to finish your assignment.” He refuses to acknowledge your interruption. “You are going to eat a proper dinner with me on the couch as we watch TV and you’re gonna like it, you got that?”

“Augh…!” You groan, going limp on him.

“Oh, I know.” Jeno pouts as he sets you on the couch, covering you in your train-print fleece blanket. “I’m so mean, aren’t I? Asking you to take a break when all you wanna do is work, work, work.”

You just stare at him, squinting your eyes as you fail to hide a smile.

“Well unfortunately for you, gumdrop, babies don’t work! So I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. The police will come after me if I do. Child labor laws or something like that.”

He leaves a quick kiss on your forehead right before speeding to the kitchen. Jeno’s eyebrows wiggle in a wave when he returns with your food; apple slices, chicken nuggets, and fries all in their respective spots in your divided plate.

The original pasta and movie date night plan being scrapped for a Nono-Gumdrop night doesn’t phase Jeno. In fact, it excites him. Your projects and exams and assignments and professors... he tries so hard not to hold resentment against them all as they pull his baby away from him. But tonight? Tonight is different, and for once in his life, caregiver Jeno is triumphant.

“Thank you…” Your fingers wrap around the blue silicone and Jeno engulfs you in a bear hug when he sits down. Tight but not so tight it obstructs your arms when eating. “What are we watching, Nono?”

“Max and Ruby.” He smiles when you gasp.

“Love Max and Ruby!” You gush with a mouthful of apples.

“Do you?” Jeno drops his head to the side. “You do? You do? Nuh-uh. I do. It’s my favorite show in the whole wide world.”

“Well, ’s my favorite show in the whole galaxy!”

“Yeah? Well-”

You squeal, feeling ticklish when he nuzzles his stubble on your face.

“Nono, stop!” You giggle.

“Eat up, gumdrop.” He sighs, the feeling of his baby in his arms and eating a proper meal for the first time in days is an incomparable joy. “Two episodes and then it’s bathtime.”

“Ah, boo, Nono!” you whine but it turns back to giggles when he compresses you in his arms.

lee donghyuck ʕ˙Ⱉ˙‧:ʔ wc 994

“You there, Angel?”

You shake your head.

It feels strange, like your body isn’t yours, as you hold on tight to your dolls in your hands and see none of the lively sparkle in their eyes you usually do when you’re small.

“I’m broken, Hyuck,” you say with such a lack of emotions that you can’t tell if it’s actually you who is speaking. “I did everything right. I got dressed, I put on the music box, I’m trying to play for God’s sake. And nothing is working still. I feel ridiculous. A grown adult trying to act like a child.” You scoff.

“Hey, stop.” Donghyuck’s firm tone sends a shiver down your spine and you pull away. His shoulders drop when he notices; you’re scared and he’s only making it worse.

“That’s my baby you’re talking about, you know?” He tries again, with a softer tone this time. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You are not broken.” He holds your cheek.

“I’m just so tired, Hyuck.” Tears come up and blur your vision. “Everything has been going on for so long at the exact same time and I just- I can’t anymore. I need to just step away from reality for a little bit but I can’t even do that. My brain is just locking me in here in this state of suffering for who knows how long and I have no way of getting out. Not even for an hour.” You sob.

“I know, lovely.” He wraps his arms around you, letting you in turn wrap your arms around his legs from your seat on the floor. “It’s been so much for so long. You deserve a little break. Take a deep breath. Let’s try to let go of all these grownup worries, okay? We can pick them back up later. Come on, Angel, breathe.”

Angel.

Channie called you Angel and you still don’t feel small. The realization makes for more tears to come up but you refuse to let another defeated cry leave you. The denim of his jeans is rough on your face but not rough enough to make you stop using it as a tissue for your tears.

“…okay,” you creak out. “Breathe in. Breathing in…”

“There we go.” Haechan passes a hand over your head, the sensation soothing you somewhat. “And out. one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Good job, Angel. Nice long deep breaths.”

You repeat the action several times, following his counts and pushing yourself to feel his jeans under your fingertips and smell the woodsy notes of his cologne to ground yourself.

“Everything sucks,” you say after some moments of silence. “Everything sucks. I didn’t even ask for any of this. I just want to be small,” your voice breaks.

“And you will be.” Donghyuck’s touch is gentle, encouraging you without words to look up at him. The pad of his thumb is warm when it wipes the tears from your face, brushing against your damp lashes. “You will be. I promise.”

“I don’t know what to do, Hyuck. I’m all out of ideas at this point,” you admit.

“How about just trying to feel not sucky?” He scrunches his nose, the most tender of smiles painted on his face. “How about… just drawing a picture? Just one. Doesn’t have to be with crayon or marker like when you’re feeling tiny. It can be whatever you want it to be. Don’t think about being small, just about drawing.”

“…draw what?”

“Hm… what about your dolls?”

When you unwrap yourself from his legs to look at said dolls, it gives Donghyuck the chance to go grab your art supplies. Your dolls don’t have that lively aura you see them with when you’re small but you can almost feel a sort of pity and empathy from them. It reminds you of the type of support your friends give you in their messages despite the country lines separating you.

“And I’ll draw… a car. Jeno’s been getting me into Formula One.” Donghyuck pulls you out of your thoughts when his voice is so close it makes you turn to see he’s taken a seat next to you on the floor. He opens a pencil case right in front of you two and takes a black pencil for himself to begin sketching on some paper.

“Really?” You opt a red pencil.

“Yeah. It’s pretty interesting.” He shrugs.

“But ’s so boring.” You sniffle up some snot from your lightning-fast crying session. You didn’t even cry for that long, how come you can feel your eyes swelling? So annoying. “They just go around in circles.”

“It’s not just that though. There’s—pass me the red? Oh, you have it. No, it’s okay. I can wait—there’s like a ton of beef between them. I like watching the interviews and stuff. It’s like watching basketball or football.” Haechan lets out a groan as he lays on his stomach, resting a cheek on his fist. “That’s really pretty, baby.”

“Y’like it?” You move to mirror him, turning your drawing for him to see better. “Think I’m gonna add some other stuff too.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know yet,” you admit. “Probably you. I always like drawing you. And then… your red car. You can take me and the dollies on a road trip. I like it when we have fun together.”

Affection floods out of Donghyuck, letting out an adoring ‘aw’ as he hugs you, leaving kisses on all the spots he knows won’t lead to a tickle fight.

“So cute! I always have fun with you. My Angel...” he hums into your temple.

“My Channie…” you mutter under your breath, sketching his head four times bigger than the rest.

na jaemin ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ wc 664

“I’m okay.” You rub your nose. “Just a couple sneezes, Jaem. It’s not a big deal. I can keep studying for a little while longer.”

“You sneezed four times in a row.” Jaemin stands next to your desk chair with his arms crossed. “Do you know what that means?”

“What?” You sigh, knowing he won’t leave until you entertain him.

“You have the plague.”

“The what?”

“The plague.”

“Baby, I don’t have the-” Achoo! “the-” Achoo! “the plague…”

You move your mouse around your screen and click away at it but it doesn’t hide the reflection of Jaemin’s intense stare into your skull. He’s not amused. You spin your chair around.

“I don’t have the plague,” you repeat with a clogged nose, not even convincing yourself this time. “…I just have a little cold.”

“I wonder where you could have gotten that from, hm?” He turns you toward him by the chair’s arms and traps you by holding onto both of them and leaning in until your foreheads almost touch. “Maybe from studying a little too much? From stretching yourself too thin? Pushing yourself past your limits? Hm? Hm? hm?” He turns his head at an angle with each question, being obnoxious about his accurate statements.

“Five minutes.”

“No.”

“I just need to email this professor.”

“No.”

“I have a group project.”

“Good thing you have groupmates, huh? Come on, get off your pretty little butt.” He grabs you from under the armpits, placing your feet on the ground as if you were merely a bag of rice. “We’re playing hospital.”

“No…” you whine with dragging feet the whole time Jaemin guides you to the kitchen, his gentlemanly hand giving you no chance to run as it rests on the small of your back.

“Yes…” He pouts at you as he fills up the syringe with orange medicinal syrup. “Babies need be good and take their medicine when they are sick, okay?”

“Jaemin-” You pull your head the other way, holding his wrist away from you.

“Baby…” he sings, dodging your attempts. “Say ‘ah’, pumpkin.”

Pressing your lips tight doesn’t do anything, the plastic tip of the syringe still slipping in and filling your mouth with bitter medicine that makes a lame attempt at orange flavoring. You shake your head, still rejecting the cold syrup as it goes down, but it does regardless, chilling your throat when it does.

“Bleh!”

“Drink some water, baby.” Jaemin holds up a cup (when did he fill that up?) and you take it as if it were the key to eternal life.

“Taste so icky,” you say with your face scrunched up like a raisin. “Hate it!”

You’re sick and suffering from forced consumption of medicine. Jaemin knows this. Jaemin shouldn’t smile. But he just can’t help it! His baby is finally back after such a long, long time. he thought he was gonna die from BWS (Baby Withdrawal Symptoms).

“Aw…” His hands reach out to hold your face and squish your cheeks together. “Baby doesn’t like medicine? Babies don’t like yucky bitter things. Babies like… sweet yummy things! How about some hot chocolate, lovey-dovey?”

“Chocwate?” you ask with raised eyebrows.

“Hot chocwate.” His nose scrunches as he pinches your cheeks. “Does that sound good?”

“Yeah!” You hop free of his crab claws. “Hot chocolate! Wanna, wanna, wanna!”

“Be careful, sugarplum!” Jaemin laughs, twirling you with such ease it feels as if you were in a dance. “Why don’t you go put something on the TV while I make us the chocolate? Whatever you want, baby,” he says, but you’re already out of the kitchen and looking under blankets and cushions for the remote.

“Spongebob!” You hold it up to the ceiling like it were the sword in the stone.

“Except Spongebob. You know that shrinks your brain.”

“Aw!” You slump but quickly straighten up like a ruler. “Ah- Ah- Achoo!”

zhong chenle (ᯟ︿ᯏ) wc 622

“I’m so proud of you.” Chenle pecks your head as you hold his waist from behind. The smells coming from the stove you two stand in front of are nothing if not heavenly. “Pretty, funny, kind, graduated. How’d I bag you?”

“Mmm, I dunno.” You shrug smugly, as you look out the window. A content sigh leaves you as your eyes follow the raindrops that slide down your window. “Must’ve done something good in your past life.”

“Must have,” he hums. “Set the table for me? I’m basically almost done.”

“You got it.” You peck his cheek. “Smells delicious. Jaemin give you cooking lessons while I was gone?”

“I’ll have you know I’m a great cook. I don’t need any cooking lessons. Never have.”

“Ah…” You roll out the placemats with a sarcastic nod.

“But if I did, I would go to Donghyuck.”

“If you did, I would approve. His soups are good.”

“Mine are better.”

“…”

“Right?”

“Sure.”

The music playing from the speakers and lights in the apartment all shut off at once, not even the hum of the refrigerator sounding in the silence, the darkness. The thunder is so close it feels like footsteps. Heavy, angry footsteps coming close. Closer and closer to you.

The power comes back as soon as it left but you can’t seem to recover as fast. You don’t even remember dropping down to hold your knees, and in the dark you didn’t see how many tears came up to overflow from your eyes. Chenle calls out your name but it sounds so distant it doesn’t even register. It feels like you’re running out of oxygen like a deep sea diver falling hopelessly down to the ocean floor.

“Hey,” you take a sharp inhale at Chenle’s warm hands holding your cheeks ground you back to reality. “Hey, the power went out. Everything’s fine. You’re okay. You’re home, you’re with me. Nothing is gonna hurt you here, you hear me? You are safe.”

You almost knock Chenle over from his crouching position when you throw yourself on him, but he reads your body language just in time to catch you. His lips press into your hair, your temples, your shoulders, the softest of touches as you wail into his shirt. His heart breaks at how fragile you seem in the moment, like a porcelain doll with a chip. You sob and babble to the point that Chenle can’t understand what you’re saying. All he can catch is one word.

“Daddy…”

There’s nothing for you to do but cry, Chenle’s learned with time, so he lets you do just that. He lets you cry in his arms there on the floor and when you’re finally willing he attaches you to his hip as he walks around. He wipes your tears with a paper towel and makes sure you get a bottle of water to drink from to rehydrate.

His eyebrows furrow when you turn your head to dodge his spoon, rejecting the meal you were so looking forward to less than twenty minutes ago. This meal which was meant to be a celebration of not just the end of your education but of all your life up to this point. Of your growth, your endurance; of all the stress you put yourself through to come out victorious in the end.

You’re still victorious, he thinks. Even now as you fill up the apartment with tears, he’s so proud of you. His partner, his baby, the strongest person he’s ever met.

“Come on, dollface. Just one spoonful, yeah? Need you to eat,” he tries again.

park jisung (∩˃o˂∩) wc 668

“What’s that giant box?”

“What giant box?” He looks at you on the couch. “...I thought you were napping.”

“I woke up. What’s with that giant box you’re pushing into our house?”

“Oh, this?” Jisung looks down. “It's… a box.”

You blink, irritation in your tight-lipped smile at your boyfriend’s lack of cooperation.

“I know it’s a box, Ji. I'm asking what’s inside the box?”

“Box… stuff…”

“Jisung!”

“That’s not my name!” He whines as he shuts the front door. “My name to you is Ji! Or Baby! Not Jisung! It’s so scary when you call me that...” He sighs. “It was supposed to come before you started your vacation time, while you were at work.”

“Why?” Your eyebrows come together into a questioning frown.

“Because- just- you’ll see soon. Pass me the scissors? Thanks.” He pecks your lips, taking the scissors from your hands and pushing your back away with little force. “Now go. Get! Your surprise will be ready in a minute. Go… brush your dolls’ hair or something. It’ll be super quick.”

“Doll hairs? is it a Little gift?”

“Shoot.” Jisung bites his fist. “...can you just go in the bedroom already? It’s not a Little gift. It’s not.”

The instructions that came in the box of the not-Little gift said construction would only take thirty minutes. Not to fear, with super handyman Park Jisung to the rescue it only took three hours and two people.

“We’re done!” You clap, looking in awe at your brand new play kitchen, pink and wooden and creaky and yours. “Jiji, finish!”

“Yeah.” He sits back on the floor, wiping the sweat from his brow. “We’re finished. D’you like it?”

“It’s so pretty, jiji!” You beam, hugging his head and squeezing the brains out of him.

“I’m glad you like it, bub.” He nods at his work in approval. “You deserve it. Worked so hard recently.”

“Thankie!” You get up quickly, running barefoot into the bedroom to come back with a box of play food in all colors and sizes.

“Make you a lenonade, bubby!” You begin adding ice to a cup and add a lemon to it. “Ice cold lenonade.”

“Oh, I love your lenonade. Thanks, baby.” He takes the cup, making gulping noises and finishing it off with a loud and satisfied ‘ah!’. “Actually, are we playing restaurant right now?”

“Um… yeah!” you decide. “Welcome to my rest’rant! What would you like to order?”

“I would kill for a good burger.” Jisung pats his stomach like a starved man. “I hear you guys have some good ones, is that true?”

“The truest!” You smile. “One burger, comin’ up!”

You turn back to your kitchen and hum to yourself as you place a burger patty on the stove.

“No pans for that?”

“No pans!” You shake your head. “Special burger.”

“Ah, must be.” He mutters behind you.

When it comes to building time, Jisung acts like a to-be-blacklisted customer.

“Could I have no onions in my burger? I’m allergic.”

“No, you’re not.”

“It’s just play pretend, honey.”

“Oh. Then, yes you can, sir! No onions.”

“And no tomatoes please. I don’t like how the seeds get stuck between my teeth.”

“No tomatoes!”

“And could you cut the cheese? It kind of sends me to the bathroom.”

“Ew… okay, no cheese, either!” You toss the slice of play cheese to the side.

“…could you also remove the meat? I’m vegetarian.”

That’s the final straw. No meat? You look down at his ‘burger’: bread, lettuce, bread.

“This is what you want?” You turn to show him his order.

“Oh yes.” He smiles, clasping his hands together in anticipation. “That’s my burger! So tasty. Thank you, shop owner.”

“You’re welcome…” You give him a look. “Ketchup?”

“No thanks.”

“Mayo?”

“Bleh! Pass.”

“…barbeque sauce?”

“Oh, that’s my favorite! Lettuce and barbeque sauce burger, my favorite.” He licks his lips.

“Jiji, ew!” you whine.

tag list ( ask / comment to join ! ) @mystarsohee @cupofwyn @iwontlettheselittlethingsslip @aeriaeri

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leclsrc · 2 years ago

Note

well deserving of 3k (and more), your stories literally bring me comfort, even the sad ones🫶🏻

could we have an angst one with Charles (with a happy ending?) maybe with the tiredness drabble

what you know – cl16

In the grand scheme of things, Charles doesn't know much, but he's sure of one thing.

auds here... scheduled bec i am off my phone lately! love u anon sry so late

Your moving away is a big deal—a garage sale for all the things you’d grown out of, a weekly schedule for everyone to help out, Arthur assigning himself to track the flight to JFK to make sure you “don’t crash on the way there.” You assure him you won’t. Pascale emails the exchange program six times a day to make sure your housing is all ironed out. Lorenzo mixes the color to repaint your room and sorts out your mum’s CDs.

Charles, however, wants nothing to do with it.

The usual route to your house feels so much longer now. He hates having to drive knowing you won’t be inside soon enough. But Pascale absolutely insists he help out last-minute, so two days before your flight, he drives the five minutes to your house and trods through the piles of boxes and luggage collecting at the bottom of the stairwell. The inside of your room, however, is more of the same; boxes, boxes, and a bed in the middle, already stripped bare.

He doesn’t say hi. He picks up a sweater and goes straight to—

“It is going to be awful,” he says, trying to lift his voice so it passes as a joke even if you both know there’s more truth to it than he intends. “You are going to have a shit time and your housing will leak and you’ll step on a rat.” He stares at the intricate stitching on your knit sweater as he awaits your response, which he expects—from years and years of knowing you—to be equally snarky and sarcastic.

“What do you know?” is what he hears instead, leaving your lips in a weak whisper.

Your hands freeze where they’re wound around Charles’ half-folded tee, the one you wear to sleep most nights, worn thin. You’re waiting for him to reply, to tell you what he knows. It’s your way of telling him to stop, stop trying to make me leave, because I am leaving and you cannot change that. He can’t bring himself to meet your eyes, so he stares at the pale knit, then your hands. You’re right—what does he know? He’s twenty-one, for Chrissake, he doesn’t know much at all.

He hasn’t been to New York, and relies on viral myths and preceded reputations to tarnish its image in your eyes. He hasn’t been in a student exchange program and relies on his ability to exaggerate stories to somehow scare you into not going. For all his trying, he actually knows nothing about either of those things. So in that respect, he’ll digress, fine—he doesn’t know anything.

But he knows a thing or two about loss, about loss and terrible goodbyes and leaving. He knows almost nothing, but knows it’s ripping him in half to have to say goodbye to you. He knows his heart’s been at its feet for you since it could stand, and not in the unexpected, almost accidental way. He knows he’s felt for you with deep intention, on purpose, like it’s all he was ever made to do. That, he knows. He loves that he knows. There was never a stunning realization, the stuff of movies—there was just a quiet settling with something he’d felt since forever.

Here, surrounded by boxes taped shut and pried open, he wishes he’d settled earlier. He wishes he told you earlier. Maybe he wouldn’t have changed anything, but at least you would’ve known then. At least then he wouldn’t be the clueless prick shit-talking New York in front of his visibly excited best friend. He grows the guts to meet your eyes then, finds they’re already staring into his.

You wait for a response. And it comes. “I know I love you.”

A smile brings itself to your lips, and you shake your head with mild disbelief. “Well,” you say, setting aside the tee and climbing closer toward him. “I know that, too.” You’ve known since you were six and he doused your hair with blue hairspray—since he ate half the cake on your eighth birthday—since he bought you a cake the year next—since he grew up and started racing and wrote you daily emails.

You lean closer, until your faces are just shy of each other’s. Then you hug him, like you’ve been waiting to touch him for years, with a quickness that roars desperation and yearning. Your arms wind around his neck and his around your waist, and you let a few rogue tears fall despite yourself, wiping them before he can see when you pull apart.

“You’re going to be okay.” He says, assuring himself more than you.

“So will you.” You smile. “Come visit, okay?”

A hand finds yours underneath the pile of clothes and, hidden from view, intertwines your fingers. You squeeze. This is new, uncharted territory you’ll admit you know nothing about, no matter how soft and warm it all feels. But, as it turns out, you have time—and you have Charles, whose green eyes you fell for long, long ago.

#f1 #leclsrc3000 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #f1 x reader

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angel-of-the-moons · 7 months ago

Text

Over The Phone

Dad Bod!Professor!Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Just... NSFW. So much NSFW. Phone sex, masturbating, sexy selfies, sexting, all that shit.

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: God this took forever to churn out but I finally got motivation to finish it!!

Taglist: @cupcakeinat0r @tojishugetiddies (if I forgot to tag anybody let me know, pls! I lost the saved list I had for people alshldhd)

Divider by @/across-the-art-verse

Miguel art @ meeee

The day had dragged on for what felt like far longer than usual for him; the usual students who showed up late, tried to sneak out, slept through the lecture or just ignored whatever he said.

The students who listened and actively engaged with the lesson were few and far between, and the almost silent lull between classes felt felt almost too short. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered, especially with the growing list of students who were disinterested in his class, or those that only signed up for extra credit and didn't want to do the work...

But, getting cards and thank-you post-its from students who felt like they wouldn't have been able to graduate without him kept him on in this tedium. He loved to hear from his former students about how their new careers were going--careers they credit hi to helping them achieve.

It never failed to make his heart all warm and fuzzy when he thought about them.

Miguel ran his hand across his beard, and a thought came to him about maybe shaving it off. He had grown it out; rather rugged if he had to admit it. But, he quickly shook that thought away--you loved his beard. Oftentimes he would wake up from a nap, you snuggled perfectly against his solid frame, your nails dragging through the short hairs with a content smile on your face.

Oh, he couldn't say no to you, his pretty little wife, could he?

Speaking of which... it was your day off. He couldn't help but wonder what you were--

When his phone pinged, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and unlocks the screen to see a text from you;

Hiii baby, how's work going?

He chuckled and replied, Same as usual. Only two students slept through class this lime

*time

Your reply was swift.

Awww I'm sry :(

If it makes you feel any better, if I were in your class... wait. I wouldn't get any work done either. I'd just be lookin at you :p

He laughed, his belly shaking a little bit as he grinned at his screen, his massive fingers fumbling the small keys once again on the too-small phone screen.

Yes, you would mafe a very door student, wouldn't you, amor?

*made *poor

Miguel rolled his eyes. He was tempted to try and see if they didn't make phones built for someone with his giant hands in mind... Damn this tiny screen!

Awww my Miggy gettin all frustrated?

Yes.

For what felt like too long, his message was left on "read". He quirked a bushy brow, scratching at his beard curiously at what was keeping you.

And then, his phone pinged again.

Here, maybe this'll keep you entertained ;)

*Image attached. Click to view.*

He hummed in curiosity. Maybe it was one of those silly little doodles you liked to send to him? One of your memes, maybe? Though, it didn't make sense why the image was blurred, when--

His heart lurched up into his throat and he instantly slammed his phone against his desk, screen down; looking around pointlessly as if he were worried someone was standing over his shoulder when the image finally cleared.

Cursing himself for acting like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, Miguel slowly lifted his phone to his face and looked at the picture you'd sent him.

You were nude, laying belly-down in your bed, the blankets askew around you. Your feet crossed one over the other as you smiled at the lens--you must have moved the full body mirror from the living room to your bedroom to achieve this shot--and your back was arched slightly to show off your bare ass.

He felt his cock twitch to life as he examined every pixel on the screen; wishing so badly he were home right now, to touch that soft expanse of flesh he loved so much. To cup your ass in his palms, feeling the warmth of your skin in his palms as his fingers massaged and groped the skin.

He could feel your hands slide up the soft pouch of his belly, scraping your nails delectably through the short, curly dark hairs that ran up his abdomen and covered his chest. He could feel your teeth scrape and tug his nipple before kissing your way back down...

Dios, mi amor. You're lucky I am not in the middle of a meeting! He hastily typed, pretending he wasn't practically salivating over that selfie.

Aw, didn't you like what I sent? :'(

I didn't say--

But before he could finish typing and send the text, he got another attached image from you.

He swallowed hard at the lump in his throat and his thumb hovered over the image hesitantly. He looked towards the clock above the door to his classroom. He had half an hour left...

When the image unblurred, he felt his heart damn near stop.

You were perched on the edge of the bed, your legs spread wide; one hand was holding your phone while the others spread you slick folds with nimble fingers and a cheeky expression on your face.

How bout this one?

Miguel groaned, loudly. He actually slipped a hand over his plush lips, cringing at how damn near pathetic that sounded.

He immediately clicked your contact information and hit "call".

The phone rang a painfully long, droning tone until your bubbly voice giggled on the other end of the line, "Heyyyy Miggy~"

"You are going to kill me, baby." He hissed into his phone, pressing the heel of his palm into his throbbing erection, "I'm in the middle of a school day! The students are at lunch!"

"Ohhh, did I get you all hard and excited for me?" You sigh dreamily into the phone, your voice dropping into a more sultry tone.

"Naughty boy, popping a stiffy in the middle of class."

He grunted, his head dropping back against his chair, the leather creaking under his weight as he tugged the ends of his button-up out from his rapidly-tightening jeans, "And whose fault is that?"

You gasp theatrically, "Mine? Oh, baby, I was just trying to provide you moral support, I swear!"

"Of course," Miguel huffed, eyeing the doorknob, waiting to see if he was unlucky enough that somebody were to walk in right as he pulled his cock free from his jeans, running his fingers over the swollen tip, smearing his precum around it.

He could hear in your voice, the way you were biting your lip in excitement as you spoke. "Baby, are you touching yourself?"

"You tell me, first." He replied, his voice strained as he gave himself a few tentative strokes; trying to gauge if the risk was worth it.

"Oh? Want me to tell you that I'm playing with my pussy?" You croon. "That I'm imagining you, and me, in bed..."

His teeth snagged his plush bottom lip briefly as he sped his hand up to your words, then slowed back down again. The friction wasn't right; too dry. So, he sucked on his tongue until he had a nice glob of saliva; bringing his hand up to his mouth to wet it before slicking his throbbing length up.

"Go on." He grumbled into the line.

"...ooooh." You giggled, your voice a little breathless. He could see you now, laying back on the bed, your fingers plunging in and out of you, pulling out to stroke your puffy clit; your pussy drooling into the blankets beneath you.

"Mmmm~ I'm also imagining you on top of me, my legs on your shoulders..."

He felt the oxygen squeeze from his lungs as he upped his pace, the vein in his cock throbbing and thumping in time with his rapid heart rate.

"Yeah, bebita?"

"Yeah." You huff, a small moan coming from you; "'m imagining you pinnin' me down, fucking a baby into me."

"Dios." Miguel groaned, thrusting his hips up to meet his fist. "You want a baby, hermosa? Want me to make you a mami?"

"Mhmm... want you to fill me aaaallllll the way up." You whined, your panting hot, even through the phone.

Miguel dared a glance up at the clock. Still had some time... He needed to do it quickly; needed to milk his cock so he wouldn't appear "improper" with a massive erection straining his pants.

As if enough of his female students (and even some of the male ones) didn't have enough difficulty paying attention in class...

He'd be lying if he hadn't gotten a few love confessions from students, present and former. He'd always politely turn them down, and then, if they were currently his pupils, politely and quietly have them sent to another class to avoid any improper behavior in the future.

It was as if none of them ever paid any mind to the gold band firmly secured to his ring finger--the matching mate to the one you wore on your own softer, delicate hand signifying your matrimonial bonds. Or... maybe they had and assumed they could tempt him from you.

Well, those assumptions were always wrong. The only person he could imagine bouncing on his cock, sucking it, milking it, stroking it--was you. You and only you.

Sometimes thinking of you when he was alone was the only ways he could get off, before you started dating. Even finding porn of a woman who looked like you wasn't enough. It had to be you.

And after the first time he felt your pretty pink pussy swallow his cock whole? Oh, he was addicted. Addicted and whipped, a few of his colleagues would say...

The professor and the school nurse; a bit of a cliche; but it was a nice one. The two of you had even played with a slutty nurse outfit or two.

You not always being the nurse...

"Fuck, Miggs, 'm so close." You whine loudly. He could see in his mind's eye how fast your fingers would be working your clit, maybe even giving in and plunging one of your silicone toys in and out of your tight hole for him.

In fact, he could imagine it so closely he could hear it.

"Shit, baby..." He hissed, his hand working his length furiously, now, almost in a race with you to see who would cum first. "You on speaker??"

"Mhmm~" You whine, your air leaving your body in wet-hot pants, the sound of your slick pussy being fucked--by your hand or your toy, he couldn't place--but the sound of it had his balls tightening up already.

"Gonna cum for me, mi amor?" Miguel huffed and puffed, more thick precum dribbling down from his tip. He smeared it over himself, using the fluid as lube to help hasten his impending orgasm.

"Yeah, baby~"

He snarled, the sound of stroking skin lewd and loud; your moans the best pornography his ears could ever be graced with.

"Cum for me, honey." Miguel whined, his glasses slipping further down his nose as he released his cock long enough to yank his shirt up over the soft, rounded edge of his tummy.

Immediately after, his hand returned once more around the thick pulsing shaft of him; stroking, tugging, milking himself like he knew your sweet cunt would. Your tight, wet, needy pussy that was dying for a drop of his cum.

As you wantonly moaned; he could imagine you splayed out in bed, legs wide and mouth open as you shout your orgasm out for him to hear, drowning out the outside world... and as his eyes would drift down, he could imagine your belly, cute and round; a baby kicking out at his hand as he caressed the stretched-out skin.

The image of you carrying his baby sent his mind into a blazing fire, the tightening in his balls and swelling of his cock too much to bear. Miguel arched his back, the wheels of his chair squeaking faintly across the floor as he curled his toes in his polished shoes, hot, thick ropes of cum shooting out to coat his belly, fingers, and even the underside of his desk; your name leaving his lips in a flurry of obscene prayers.

His mind was fuzzy as he slowly came down from his high, the sound of your giggle snapping him back to reality:

"See you when you get home, Miggy~"

The phone hangs up, and Miguel is left with his pearly white mess coating his belly, making his skin and hair sticky. At least he didn't get any on his shirt. This time.

The bell rang, suddenly, shaking him to full lucidity from his post-coital haze, his hairs standing on end and making him jolt up straight.

He hastily grabbed a few tissues from his desk drawer and began cleaning up, shoving a few stray stands of his graying hair back into place as he began to hear the chatter and footfall of students in the halls.

Oh, you would pay for this when you got home, all right.

#Db!Miguel O'hara #Dad bod!Miguel O'hara #Db!Professor!Miguel O'hara #Dad bod!Professor!Miguel O'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #Db!Miguel O'hara x Reader #Db!Miguel O'hara x you #Professor!Miguel O'hara x you #Professor!Miguel O'hara x reader #atsv x reader #teacher au

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