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incognit0slut · 2 months

Note

Just honestly anything with husband/dad!reid

(Fluff, Sexual innuendo) Dad!Spencer x Mom!Reader. 1.1k

You’re flabbergasted at how much your son resembles your husband.

The resemblance was uncanny. You'd like to think that after nine months of carrying your child, he would at least look a little something like you. Sure, there were your eyes, and Spencer never failed to mention his adorable nose resembled yours. Yet beyond those traits, he was undeniably your husband's little doppelganger.

You watched in awe as they nestled together on the couch, engrossed in one of Spencer’s documentaries. Though you knew you’d seen it before, your attention wasn’t fixated on the TV screen, but on the sight before you.

How could they look so much alike?

It wasn’t just the matching mop of curly brown hair or the glasses resting on their noses; it was their shared mannerisms that truly struck you. From the focused furrow of their brows to the way they leaned in attentively, it was as if Oliver was a miniature version of his father.

You saw Spencer leaning forward, gesturing toward the screen. "See, magnets have north and south poles, and opposite poles attract each other while like poles repel. It's all about the magnetic field they create."

"Opposites attract?"

"Opposite poles, like north and south, pull towards each other," Spencer explained, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "While poles that are the same, like two norths or two souths, push away. It's all because of the magnetic field they generate."

Oliver nodded eagerly, taking in the information. "So, it's like they're drawn to each other because they're different?"

"Exactly," Spencer agreed, giving Oliver a proud smile. "Just like how sometimes, people with different personalities or interests can be drawn to each other because they complement each other."

"Like you and mom?"

Your husband smiled. "What makes you say that?"

Oliver shrugged. "Well, you like books and learning things, and Mom loves art and cooking. You're different, but you're together."

Spencer chuckled. "You know, you're absolutely right. Your mom and I might be different, but we complement each other very well."

"Are you guys talking about me?"

The two of them whipped their heads as they saw you enter the room.

"Mom!" Oliver cheered, jumping off the couch to tackle you with a hug, wrapping his small arms around your legs. You laughed as his embrace nearly knocked you off balance, returning his hug with warmth.

“Hey there, buddy.”

"You’re back,” Spencer greeted from the couch. "How was girls day out?"

"Amazing, Aunt Penelope took me to the spa," you replied. "It was so relaxing, very therapeutic... until I realized how much I missed you both."

Spencer's smile widened at your words. "We missed you too.”

“What’s therapeutic?”

Spencer turned to Oliver, his smile growing as he considered how to explain. “Well, therapeutic is when something makes you feel calm and relaxed, like the spa did for Mom.”

Oliver nodded, absorbing his words with interest. “So, like when I play with my Legos and it makes me feel happy?”

You grinned, ruffling Oliver’s hair affectionately. “That’s right, doing things you enjoy can be very therapeutic for your mind and body.”

Your son, who was still clinging to your legs, looked up with bright eyes. "Can we have a movie night now that you’re back? I think it can be therapeutic.”

You chuckled at Oliver’s suggestion, feeling a surge of affection for his sweet innocence.

“A cozy movie night with my two favorite guys? Now that’s what I call therapeutic,” you replied, giving his head another gentle ruffle. “But first, why don't you put these in the kitchen?"

His eyes widened with curiosity as he peered at the plastic bag in your hand. "What's in there?"

You grinned, holding up the bag for him to see. "Some snacks Aunt Penelope packed for us. Why don't you take them to the kitchen while Dad and I set up the movie?"

Oliver's face lit up with excitement as he eagerly took the bag from you. "Sure thing, Mom!" he exclaimed before dashing off to the kitchen.

Spencer chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "His enthusiasm is contagious."

You nodded in agreement as you walked over to him. "I wonder where he got that from."

Spencer grinned playfully, wrapping an arm around your waist as you joined him on the couch. "Hmm, I wonder."

"That boy resembles you more each day."

Spencer’s grin widened at your observation, a hint of pride shining in his eyes. “I suppose he’s taking after his old man.”

“He definitely has your enthusiasm and curiosity,” you remarked, your gaze drifting fondly toward Oliver as he bustled about in the kitchen.

“And your appetite for food, it seems,” he added, nodding towards the snacks Oliver had eagerly pulled out from the bag.

You laughed, the warmth of his embrace filling you with a sense of contentment. “He’s got good taste,” you quipped, leaning in for a kiss. "Ask me what else I did today."

"What else did you do today?" Spencer asked with a playful grin, his arm still around your waist as he pulled you closer before pressing his lips on yours in a sweet, innocent kiss.

You smiled against his lips, savoring the tender moment before pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. "Well," you began, your voice soft, "I booked a wax appointment."

His grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a look of mild surprise. "Oh?"

"Yep, do you wanna see it later?" Spencer's cheeks flushed slightly and you chuckled. All these years of marriage and he still managed to get flustered whenever you tease him. “Aw, look at you blushing.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

“It’s adorable,” you teased, giving his cheek a playful pinch before leaning in to press a quick kiss to his nose.

He sighed dramatically, though the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his mock annoyance. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You grinned, feeling a rush of affection for your husband. “And you’re lucky you married me,” you retorted. “So, what do you say to a nice, warm bubble bath and one of my awesome massages with a happy ending?”

“You know I can’t say no to that.” His gaze then fell to the length of your body. “Do I get a preview now?”

Your head fell back as you laughed. “Spencer Reid, your kid is in the next room.”

“Our kid,” he corrected gently.

"Dad!" Your son's voice suddenly echoed through the house. "I can't reach the plates!"

Spencer’s cheeks flushed slightly as he realized your son was within earshot, and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

“Right, sorry,” he mumbled, his gaze flickering to you with a sheepish smile.

You shared a knowing look with him before turning your attention to Oliver. “I’ll help you out, sweetie,” you called back, already moving towards the kitchen.

Spencer followed close behind, his arm wrapping around your waist. “We’ll continue this conversation later.”

You shook your head in amusement. Parenthood certainly had a way of interrupting even the most romantic of moments, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/n: i’m sorry this is bad i wrote this half-conscious (i’m sick)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble

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xhoneygirlxx · 10 months

Text

Juicy

Eddie Munson x big boob fem!reader

summary: the heat causes you to let the girls hang free and it causes Eddie to be a flustered mess

warnings: she/her pronouns used, reader has breasts and wears feminine clothing. skin color/ethnicity is not mentioned! Eddie being a flustered cutie. idiots in love :) mentions of high school jocks being gross. 18+ MINORS DNI. smut: heavy making out, grinding, titty sucking, premature ejaculation. mentions of titty fucking and cumming on tits. shitty writing and not proofread.

a/n: hello my honey buns!! i wanted to get something out while i work on some of my current wips. i got inspired to write this bc i have a tig bitties and every time i wear a bra i feel like i'm dying and i'm too insecure to not wear one lmao. also, i just wanted to say that all different shapes and sizes of bitties are beautiful!!! also please be kind! smut is not my strong suit.

The late August heat made living in Hawkins unbearable. That might be an over exaggeration since you've never traveled anywhere outside of your town, but it still felt like the underside of satan's ballsack.

You regret agreeing to hangout with Eddie the minute you saw the afternoon weather forecast and regret it even more when you got into the metalhead's van. With no working a/c in the vehicle, there was no choice but to have the window's down to get some sort of circulation.

It wouldn't be so bad if there was a breeze but the air was dry, burning your lungs with every single intake of oxygen. You could feel the sweat rolling down your spine, making the thin cotton tank top you had on stick to your skin.

The cotton shorts you had on didn't quell any heat that you were feeling, only making your thighs stick together uncomfortably. Eddie being the angel he was, had already stopped at the gas station, picking up whatever snack he thought you might want, including a cherry icee that was already melted.

The sweat the beaded at your hairline, falling down your face like raindrops, matched the sweat on your cardboard cup. Syrupy sweetness coated your tongue as you drank it, coolness going down your throat to extinguish the flames within your body.

You needed to get out his car as soon as possible and into some air conditioning. Eddie on the other hand looked as cool as a cucumber. His cut band tshirt blowing through the warm air, black jeans tight on his lower body, and his brown curls in a low bun.

You almost wanted to hate him for being so calm, never showing any discomfort when it got hot like this. God, you hated the way he looked so relaxed, puffing on his cigarette and driving with one wrist on the steering wheel. The sun shining off of his ringed fingers, the band squeezing at his tiny waist, the black ink on his alabaster skin dancing with every move he took- he was so beautiful and it was making your temperature rise even higher.

When he pulled up to his trailer, you were up and out of the van before he could even pull the keys out of ignition. To your dismay, he was taking his sweet time getting out of the car, making you wait in the blaze of the sun. If you didn't know any better, you'd think the cheeky asshole was doing it on purpose. As he rounds the car, a plastic bag dangling from his wrist, a playful smirk paints his lips.

He's definitely doing it on purpose. Asshole.

"Where's the fire, Cherry?" he jests playfully at you, making you scowl even more.

"It's going to be in your hair if you don't hurry the hell up." You yell back at him. A small laugh leaves his pretty lips, shaking his head as he pulls out his key to unlock the door.

"I'll open the door faster if you say please." You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. Playing up the part even more, Eddie takes his time putting the key into the door.

"Oh please Eddie, would you be so kind and unlock the door?" You smile sarcastically up at him. He mimics you, straight white teeth flashing brightly in your eyes.

"Now was that so hard?" Scoffing at him, you push right past his body and enter the trailer.

The small a/c unit the sits in the window works overtime, buzzing and rattling loudly, to cool down the small trailer. It feels like heaven when you walk in, the immediate temperature drop makes goosebumps rise on your skin.

Plopping down on the well loved couch, you sprawl your limbs out trying to cool every inch of your skin. Placing the bag of treats on the table, Eddie makes his way into the kitchen to retrieve a beer from the fridge.

"Is Wayne off today?" The absence of the older man only coming to your attention.

"Yeah, he went to Darla's house." Eddie mutters his response as he works the cap of the beer bottle off.

Darla was Wayne's new girlfriend he had been seeing the past couple months. You had fallen victim to many of Eddie's rants about his uncle coming home late and never calling letting his nephew know he was safe.

Humming a response, you turn your attention to the television that's currently playing reruns of The Golden Girls.

Now that you've been in the cool air for not even five minutes, the creeping heat comes back into your body. The culprit being your chest, heat radiating in the cups of your bra. It was uncomfortable already with the weight on your back and shoulders, not to mention the sweat that collected in the fabric.

Jumping up abruptly from your slouched position, you work your hands around your back preparing to take off the article of clothing. . Before you it off, you remember that you're not in your own home and that it might make Eddie uncomfortable.

As he walks in from the kitchen, sipping on his chilled beer, he catches your stare. Raising a brow and removing the bottle from his mouth, he turns to you.

"You okay over there?" He questions you, eyeing your posture and how you look like you've been caught in the act of something you shouldn't be doing.

"I need to take my bra off but I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Oh boy is he caught of guard, choking on his spit loudly. His cheeks are tinted a deep red, eyes wide and bulging from his face. Of course he didn't care, you guys were friends and he always wanted you comfortable. The only problem was that you would be braless, sitting next to him.

It's not like you haven't before, any time you wore big baggy shirts he knew you didn't have a bra on, but the extra material of your shirt blocked the visuals of your loose breasts.

When you cock an eyebrow at him, he shakes his head, brown curls bouncing with the movement.

"Y-yeah sure. Ya know what we Munson's say, this land is your land, or whatever." He chuckles nervously eyeing you from where he stands across from you.

Letting out a roaring laugh, you reach your hands under the hem of your shirt, undoing the hook.

"I'm pretty sure Woody Guthrie said that, Eds." Forcing out a small laugh, he watches as you pull the straps down your arms and then pulling the material out from under your white tank top.

Yeah he's going to die right here in the middle of his living room. When you finally pull it from your sticky skin and discard it somewhere on the floor, your nipples pebble up from the cold air. You lean your head back and release a sigh of satisfaction.

You don't see how Eddie's drinking you in right now, how he's staring at the way your nipples are visible through the wet cotton of your shirt, or how he can see the fullness of your chest.

It was no secret that you had a bigger bust than most of the girls in town, earning the nickname of Cherry from all the jocks at school, which you took pride in and eventually took ownership of.

Unlike the jocks, Eddie never made any comments about your bust. Not that he didn't think of them when he was beating off in his room every night, but he never commented on them to you which you appreciated. To him you were just you, double d's or not.

While you were in pure bliss, Eddie was living a nightmare come true. The girl he's had a crush on since middle school is braless in his home, right in front of him. He didn't know how he was going to sit next to you now with the way blood was rushing to his cock, the stiff material of his jeans didn't help his discomfort.

"So, what are we watching today?" Cracking your eyes open to look at your best friend, you could still see him standing in the same spot, staring right at your chest.

Oh. OH. He was staring at your chest. You could have so much fun with this, give him a little taste of his own medicine for his little stunt earlier, making you wait longer in the heat.

"Eds?" Your tone was sinfully sweet. Placing your arms on either side of you, you used your forearms to push your boobs together as best as you can.

"Huh? O-oh yeah. Um, we ugh, we could watch Nightmare on Elm Street." He was tripping on his tongue every other word.

Quickly moving from his spot, he knelt down in front of the television to pop in the horror movie. The boy who was so unbothered by record breaking heat, was now a sweaty, heavy breathing mess because of you.

After starting the movie, he slowly retreats to the couch but as far away from you as humanly possible. Maybe it wasn't that he was hot and bothered by you, maybe he was just uncomfortable with your state of dress.

For the first twenty minutes of the film that's all you could think, trying to figure out what you could do to make the situation better. Without thinking, you take a lollipop out of the bag of goodies he bought, popping it right into your mouth.

You took your time, swirling your tongue around the red candy, hallowing your cheeks every so often. You weren't really paying attention to what you were doing, staring straight ahead at the glowing screen. Eddie was paying attention though, growing unimaginably harder than before.

The movement of Eddie taking the pillow from behind his back and placing it right on his crotch, brings your attention the boy next to you. He wasn't as smooth as he thought, the placement of the pillow gave it away right away. His sweat soaked bangs, bouncing leg, and red cheeks definitely gave it away.

Removing the lollipop from your mouth, you place it down on the discarded wrapper laying on the table. Turning to him, your knees criss cross, you say his name softly.

His head turns with speed when you call him, chocolate brown eyes replaced with the darkness of his pupils.

"Are you okay? You don't seem, well you seem bothered. If it's me not wearing a bra, Eddie I can put it back on." You sputter out, worry rising in your stomach at the thought of making him feel awkward with your braless tits.

Releasing a loud sigh, he runs a hand down his face. "Cherry, I'm not bothered by you not wearing a bra. Well, okay, I am but I'm not uncomfortable."

He's staring right at you, almost like he's waiting for you to catch on but you don't. Eyebrows furrowed, you try to understand what he had just said to you. Before you can ask, he reiterates himself.

"Baby, I'm not bothered because you don't have a bra on. I'm very much the opposite and because I'm a gentleman, I'm trying to make myself calm down the best I can. It's just hard to do that when you're deep throating a sucker right next to me." The last part comes out as a joke, dimpled smile to prove it.

So you were right, he was hot and bothered by you. Just like he made you wait for him, you made him wait even longer to rid himself of his discomfort happening in his pants.

"Well Eds, you know if you wanted to see them all you had to say was please." You tease and he groans loudly, throwing his head back.

"Please, Cherry." He begs and you give in, lying back on the old couch. Beckoning him over to you, you spread your legs to give him room. Like a panther, he pounces on you, smacking his lips to yours.

Its heavy and animalistic the way your tongues attack each other. The lingering taste of beer mixes with the cherry from your candy. When you push your hips up to get some friction on your aching heat, he whimpers in your mouth.

He takes your motions as permission to grind into you, the pressure making both of you moan in unison. Pulling away from your mouth so you two can breathe, he moves to his next target.

The warmth of lips meet the chilled skin of your neck, he kisses all around the precious skin to find that sweet spot. When a wanton moan falls from your red stained lips, he thinks he's hit the jackpot. Sucking and kissing the spot under your ear, you're sure there will be a blotch of purple there.

You hiss out when he runs his teeth along the spot, jerking your hips up in excitement. Moving his face so that he's looking at you, you can see the spit that coat his red swollen lips, the lust the pool in his eyes. He's so pretty like this, so fucking pretty and he's all yours in this moment.

"Can I see your pretty tits, Cherry?" He asks so sweetly, like he didn't just sinfully makeout with you. Nodding in approval, he shakes his head at you.

"I need words, princess." He waits for you, who is currently looking up at him like he's hung the stars and moon. You look so fucked out and so disheveled. He's always known he was going to marry you but when he looks at you he has no doubt that he's going to marry you.

"Please, Eds."

That's all he needs to hear before he's pulling the front of your shirt down, revealing your chest to him. He stays there for a minute, looking unbashful at your tits, like they were the eight wonder of the world.

His unwavering gaze starts to make you insecure, worrying that maybe they weren't as nice as he thought they would be. They were heavy and slightly sagged due to the weight, you had stretch marks that decorated the skin like a zebra.

Pulling your arms up to cover yourself, he grips your wrists and pulls them down. Moving his gaze back up to you, his eyes are much softer.

"Don't hide, please don't hide. Not when I've waited so long to see these." A tingling sensation fills your face, making you smile giddily up at him. When you nod at him, he goes in face first into your chest.

"Fuck, I've dreamt of this for so long." You want to respond but you can't when his mouth is placing pecks to the delicate skin of your breast.

Resuming his motions from before, his hips roll right into yours like a wave crashing on the shore. He's everywhere, filling all your senses. Eddie.Eddie.Eddie. That's all that's in your mind, especially when he places your pebbled nipple in his mouth.

"Fuck, Eddie." You hiss out, reaching your hand to the nape of his neck, placing a gentle pressure to keep him there. His switches between swirling his tongue around the numb and sucking on it.

His other hand snakes up to your abandoned breast, groping the fat of it before his fingers pinch the nipple. It's sinful the way it feels, his hard cock hitting right where you need him, the warm of his mouth, and the moans that you release.

Eddie groans, causing your skin to vibrate. Removing himself from your abused breast, he moves to the other one, finally giving it the same attention as the other.

"Fuck, you're so hot." He groans out, eyes closed in ecstasy, high off the scent and taste of you. His movements start getting faster causing him to moan even louder.

Moving away from your chest, he looks down at you, the way your tits bounce with every roll of your hips. He looks at the mark he made on your neck, and how your skin shines with his saliva and your sweat. Your pupils are blown wide, lips puffy and shiny. Then he moves his eyes back to your tits, imagining what it would feel like to run his dick on your sternum, how pretty they would look coated in his pearly white cum, and how hot it would be to titty fuck you.

Every possible scenario plays out in his head when he looks at you and it's too much. With one finally grunt, pulled deep from his stomach, he hangs stops all his motions, collapsing onto of you.

Dazed and slightly confused, you let him catch his breathe. When he brings his face out from the crook of your neck, he has a boyish smile pulled on his cheeks.

"Ed, did you just-"

"Cum in my pants like a teenager? Absofuckinglutely, but if give me about five minutes I'll give you everything you want." You reach your hand up to his face, pushing some of the loose hair that fell from his ponytail, behind his hair.

"If you say please, pretty boy."

He didn't need five minutes, instantly getting hard from the sultry tone of your voice.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x fem!reader

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youronlydarlin · 4 months

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warning: fluff for the soul, sweet Simon giving me cavities because of how much he loves you

Eeeeee, m' mind is being plagued by Simon "I love my partner, anybody else can go fuck themselves" Riley who's mean to everybody else except you.

M' talkin his mood sours evey second he's not with you, till it reaches the point where he looks like he was born with a scowl on his face. And if looks could kill then everyone would be six feet under with how Simon looks as if he's ready to rip and tear.

His hand gripping the plastic bag filled with the snacks you were craving for while the other is clenched. To others, it seems like he might be on his way to punch a guy so hard it'll knock all of his teeth out. But truth is he's jus' reminiscing over the feeling of your hand in his :(

But the moment he gets home that menacing aura jus' goes. Poof!

Loudly declaring that he is back home with your cravings. And of course, darling you, being the most caring partner in the world run to him. He's holding you up in an instant, pulling down his mask and kissing you so sweetly on the lips.

He can stay like this forever. But only if forever was spent with you :)

a/n: I NEED HIM. I kinda needed something like this at the moment 🥲, so forgive me for such an abrupt and short post. Remember that you are loved and cared for, darlings!

Yours, truly,

–dolly

#cod x reader #cod imagine #call of duty x reader #cod x reader fluff #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #Ghost x reader fluff #x gn reader #x female reader #x male reader

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churipu · 4 months

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PERIOD COMFORT 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, itadori yuuji, nanami kento

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. period stuff, cramps, fluff.

note. new layout :> anyways, just reminding everyone that has sent in requests that my ask is only open to talk as of now and it will take a little long to have them out, but i assure you that everything in my inbox will be written! thank you

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

gojo didn't know how periods felt. so he looks up for things he could do to make you feel better — one time he actually considered buying one of the period cramps simulation machines because he didn't like seeing you in pain alone.

keyword: considered.

you had to drop the machine out of his trolley, and the male was definitely not happy about it. he tried arguing about it with you, saying how he's your 4lifer and he doesn't like seeing you in pain alone because of period cramps.

"satoru, 'm okay. i go through this every month, 'm not gonna die because of this." you tell him, handing his phone back.

gojo whines out, "but baby, i don't like seeing you in pain. i wanna be in pain with you," he shakes you back and forth gently.

but when you were content with your choice — he accepted begrudgingly. pouting out, refusing to speak to you for at least the next fifteen minutes because he couldn't stand being apart from you that long. so instead, he searched for what he could do to help.

"look, i got three chocolates, and i got you extra pads and tampons because tiktok told me to. and i got salonpas because i heard they can actually help with cramps," gojo presented proudly, "and then lastly, me. your amazing boyfriend."

you, previously, laying down on the couch, sat up slowly with a small smile at his attempt to help you with your period.

"thank you 'toru. this means a lot to me."

"i still think i should buy that machine though, baby."

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

he's confused. he knows about periods, but he didn't know it pained you. the young male was in a training session one morning when you called him, expecting a cheery greeting from you.

oh, he didn't. instead here you were, moaning out in pain, "yuuji, you busy?" he could vaguely make out a sharp hiss from the other line.

yuuji was indeed busy. but he told you, "no, no. are you okay? what happened?" he was in the middle of a hand-to-hand with megumi, instinctively raising his hand to stop — and megumi stopped immediately, knowing it was important for yuuji.

"period cramps . . . can you come over, please?" he was confused, tired, and sweaty. but he didn't care about that — the male was worried because were periods even supposed to hurt you?

"of course, baby. i'll be there in a sec." he ended the call and shot a look to kugisaki, "what the hell does period cramps mean, does your . . . you know, hurt or something?"

kugisaki had to give him a one minute lecture on what he should do, step by step. yuuji listened thoroughly, running to the nearest convenience store to get what kugisaki told him to: sweets, chocolates, pads and tampons, and your favorite snacks.

and it took him no longer than eight minutes to appear at your doorstep, knocking a couple of times. still sweaty and stinky, "y/n? it's me."

"door's unlocked."

he opened the door hastily, making sure not to drop any of the things he just bought. lightly sending a kick to the door to shut it, "hi baby, how are you feeling?"

"not good. i feel like 'm gonna die." you writhe out, curling into a ball on your bed. the male approached you, putting down the things, "you stink."

he chuckled, stroking your head, "'m gonna borrow your shower, and then cuddles?"

you nod, "please."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

nanami is always ready. he just knows when your period is coming, hell, he's even more accurate than your period tracker application.

"i brought you chocolates and ice cream, and a heat pad for your cramps." nanami mumbles out, kicking his shoes off as he enters your house carrying a plastic bag.

"how did you know it was my period?"

"i remember it," that was better than any "i love you" or "i miss you".

the male's always ready to bring snacks, sweets, and heat pads for you. nanami will do what it takes to cease your period cramps since he knew he couldn't feel it like you did. he feels really awful: giving you back massages, head massages, kisses to your stomach.

he said he'd "kiss the pain better".

which actually works.

i think he knows your period schedule better than you do. he'd always remind you that your period's coming soon as a heads up, and you listen to him all the time. to the point you had to delete your application since it was pretty useless at this point.

"darling, your period's coming up soon."

"really? didn't i just finish last month's . . ?" you mumbled, a little annoyed that your schedule's coming up so fast.

"in a few days, if i'm guessing — three maybe?" he replies, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

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vanderilnde · 4 months

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so true @altissiia. neighbour/butcher simon is but a matted cat that would charitably leave mice at your door if that wasn’t so off-putting

It’s eight in the morning, and there’s coffee all over your work blouse. Burning through the canopy of your shirt, sticking your skin.

You had loudly cursed as your foot got caught behind an innominate object, propelling you face first—and coffee first—into the corridor. Surely, the whole flat heard it. The tight yelp you released, the thunder of your nose colliding with the floor.

You don’t care about the coffee blotches congealing in the hallway. The carpet has enough cryptic stains, ones that management isn’t bothered to fix, so you look away and throw a cursory glance over your shoulder—to see the cause of your fall—and grimace without conscious control.

It’s a bag of meat on your doormat.

Wrapped in a plastic, sitting in a puddle of fresh blood.

A few drops of dew glaze the bag by means of moisture. It hides its contents, hindering you from recognising anything inside. You poke it with your shoe, cringing at the cartilage and meat and marrow beneath the sole of your foot. It tumbles over in the clear film, revealing its gory underbelly and a sticky-note.

The note is dog-eared, crumpled, and damp. Covered in writing written by a slap-happy hand. Sorry for being too loud last night with my mates. Guess I’m a hypocrite. Here’s some meat please accept, is what it reads. The tail-end features a poorly-drawn smiley face and a signature. Simon.

He was being noisy last night. You were just too skittish to slap the drywall dividing you, or to knock on his door and ask him to keep it down. There was an overlap of voices, an undercurrent of accents, and the charm of beer cans persistently snapped open.

As you peel the note off the bag, the door beside you swings open. Simon stumbles out, sweatpants low on his hips, medical mask obscuring the lower shell of his face. By the looks of it, he just floundered out of the shower. His curls are still dripping with opalescent water drops. He’s shirtless, his chest hairs so blonde they’re almost glass-like. Tousled and wispy.

A few scars distort the skin of his ribcage and makes you wince. He’s breathing heavily, distending them, puffing out his chest.

“You alright?” He asks. “Heard you fall.”

You realise you’re still on the floor. Simon looks cosmic from this angle—colossal—hauling with him disciplined muscles eclipsed by a soft belly.

You meekly nod, rising to your feet. “‘m fine.”

Simon’s eyes flutter down to your chest. A hot-flash pools under your skin, sticky, messy, leaving you preening under his gaze, until, of course, you belatedly remember your spilled coffee. How your shirt sticks to your skin, revealing the barest hint of your breasts. You don’t cross your arms.

“You’ve something there,” Simon sniffs. He gestures to your chest.

“Um, yeah. I know.”

A whisper of discomfort marinates between you. Discomfort that Simon doesn’t seem to notice—or doesn’t seem to care about—as he keeps staring at you.

He grunts. “I got you meat.”

“Thank you!” You chuckle. “It was a… sweet gift.”

It takes you by surprise when Simon tucks his chin into his chest, grumbling. His crows feet crimp together like knife-edges as if he’s barely smiling.

“Wait here,” he mumbles, then spins on his heel. You assume he’s going to put on some clothes, or bring you some more meat, but when Simon returns, he outstretches towards you a threadbare jersey, waiting expectantly.

“Stained your blouse,” he snorts. “Wear this.”

Owlishly, you blink. It’s your work blouse that’s stained. You can’t go in a Manchester United shirt.

“Um. I wouldn’t–”

Simon shoves it in your chest. At this point, he reminds you of a wet dog. Dripping wet, gratified of his gift-giving. Leaving raw meat that stinks of ammonia at your doorstep, handing you a shirt too-many-sizes too big for you. If he had a tail, it’d be wagging.

His hand is still extended. Above his mask, Simon’s eyebrows pucker as if he’s pouting. Like a kicked mutt, confused, and a little ratty. You feel awkward indebtedness eddying through you, so you snatch the jersey from him and slip it on jointly. It smells heavily of nicotine and pomade, slightly impairing you.

Satisfied, he nods. You think he’s going to say something else—there’s a little stifle between the flicker of his eyes and his jaw—but he doesn’t. Simon turns around and slams his door shut in your face.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost/reader #simon riley/reader #simon writing #writing #butcher!simon

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lixiepixiedust · 7 months

Text

Peach to my Mario

pairing — idolbf!leeknow x f!reader (From the Unveiling Love series!)

word count — 2.7k words

warnings — she/her reader, tiny bit of angst, stress, tooth-rotting fluff

summary — Minho always avoids showing affection to you in public which makes his friends and members worry about his relationship, thinking it might not be healthy. However, in private, Minho’s a completely different person. One day, he comes home early and takes the chance to invite you over. During a little gaming sesh, his members accidentally walk in on him being overly sweet with you.

It was just part of Minho's nature to avoid PDA. He never showed affection when you were out with friends, and he wasn't the type of guy to show you off or post you on social media, even on his private account. When you first started dating, you went out to dinner with Minho and some of his members and their partners. It was the first time you were out with him around other people. Whenever you tried to initiate any contact with him, he'd gently push you away and give you a look that said, "Not here," which, at first, bothered you.

This constant habit didn't go unnoticed by his members. They saw how he acted with you around them, which made them worry about your relationship. Some even talked to Minho, suggesting he show more affection, but he always replied with, "I know what I'm doing." This left them wondering, "Are they even a happy couple?" because that's all they knew. They were never shown the real side of Minho in a relationship.

You eventually got used to it over time, as he had a way of making up for it. When you two were alone, he was the sweetest. He showered you with love, and he wasn't afraid to show emotion. It was fascinating to see how different a person he could be depending on the setting, and as his girlfriend, you somewhat liked this duality. When he'd get home from an outing with you, he'd immediately pull you into a hug and smother you with kisses, becoming a completely different person than he was a minute ago.

You didn't complain about the lack of PDA anymore because you were grateful that Minho saw you as someone he could be vulnerable with. He wasn't afraid to share his struggles and ask for your help, and you appreciated the connection you had with him in this way. It was so rare for him to have such a bond with someone, which made it so precious.

One day, Minho arrived at his dorms earlier than usual, and it was a particularly stressful day. They were approaching a comeback, and the choreography needed to be finalized with a tight deadline. A professional choreographer was scheduled to review their dance, and they had to have it perfected by then. The pressure was especially heavy on Minho, as he was responsible for everything, being the main dancer in the group. Comeback season always brought a lot of stress for all of them. The producers had to handle the tracks, and they had to attend numerous meetings discussing potential concerts and promotions.

Usually, during this stressful and overworked period, he would be staying late at the company, leaving little time at home. So, it was rather unusual for him to arrive home early. When Minho reached the door of his dorm, he tossed his bag onto the couch and slumped into a seat. He unscrewed a plastic water bottle and downed it in a few gulps. Minho buried his face in his hands, threw his head back, and released an exasperated sigh.

He took his phone out of the front pocket of his backpack and texted your number.

"y/n, do you have a minute?"

right after he sent it out, it showed as "read," with an icon popping up indicating that you were typing.

"yea, of course. is everything alright?"

"i just wanna see you. and no one's home yet."

It shocked you that he was home already. You hadn't seen him for two weeks, given how busy he had been and how little time he had for himself. So, to you, it was surprising that he had texted you. You responded with a simple "kk" before getting up and preparing to leave. You were wearing gray sweatpants and one of Minho's shirts, but you decided not to bother changing, as it looked presentable enough. After all, it was just Minho.

You grabbed Minho's keys and phone, locking your own door as you left your apartment. Even though you had a car, navigating the busy downtown Seoul intersections often took longer than walking. Luckily, Minho's dorms were only a few blocks away, making it a short five to ten-minute walk. Upon reaching his building, you scanned your keycard at the lobby and opened the door after hearing the click. Minho had given you an extra keycard so you could visit him, although his roommates were unaware of this, as it wasn't something they would necessarily know.

You rode the elevator up to his floor, which was located quite high up, just one floor below the penthouses. Minho's apartment was notably larger compared to the others in the building, as he shared it with three of his group members. You went down the hallway and stopped when you saw his unit number.

You gently knocked on the door, not wanting to startle him. There was silence, so you decided to try the doorknob, and it turned out to be unlocked. You entered, taking your shoes off at the entrance before quietly making your way to the living room. As you entered the room, you found Minho sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the floor.

"Minho" You called out.

He jumped, snapping out of his thoughts and turned his head towards you. "You scared me"

"Did you not hear me come in?" You chuckled.

Minho shook his head, a small smile forming on his face. "I guess I was too lost in my own world."

You walked over and sat beside him, giving him a gentle smile. "Long day?" He nodded and leaned into your touch.

You wrapped your arm around him. "What can I do to help you relax?"

Minho sighed, looking at you with gratitude. "Just being here is enough. I missed you."

You smiled, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. "I missed you too, Minho. "

"Thank you for coming," he said.

"Anytime," you replied, snuggling closer to him. "Why are you back so early, hm? Where's everyone else."

"They're still at the company, working on their own stuff now. I needed a break from the choreo, I couldn't think straight anymore," Minho confessed, rubbing his temples.

It was rare for him to take breaks for himself so you were glad he reached out to you in this moment. You continued to comfort him, running your fingers through his hair soothingly.

"You know you don't have to carry all the weight on your own, right?" you reassured him.

Minho nodded, appreciating your support. "I know, it's just... sometimes I forget."

"Well, that's what I'm here for – to remind you," you said with a soft smile.

Minho leaned into your touch, his shoulders relaxing as he let out a deep breath. "I'm lucky to have you," he murmured.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, letting the weight of the day slowly lift off Minho's shoulders. You could sense the exhaustion in him, not just physical but also the mental strain of the responsibilities he carried.

I gave a him a gentle squeeze. "Wanna play something?"

Minho looked at you, exhaustion still lingering in his eyes but a genuine smile playing on his lips. "That sounds good."

You made your way to the Nintendo Switch (Felix's, obviously) and powered up Mario Kart. As the game loaded, you handed Minho a controller, and soon, both of you were engrossed in the competition. The colorful characters on the screen and the playful banter between you and Minho helped to lighten the atmosphere in the room.

As you played, you couldn't help but notice the transformation in Minho. The stress lines on his face seemed to fade, replaced by genuine smiles and occasional laughter. It was moments like these that made you appreciate the private side of Minho that he rarely showed to the outside world.

"You're gonna lose so bad, Y/n, you don't know," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Yea sure," you shot back, a smirk playing on your lips.

The races became more heated, with Minho throwing himself into the game, making exaggerated gestures as he maneuvered his virtual car. Every time you pulled ahead, he'd let out a theatrical groan, clutching his heart.

"I can't believe you'd do this to me!" he'd exclaim in horror, slumping dramatically in his seat.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Come on, Minho, it's just a game!"

But for Minho, it was more than just a game. It was a battle, a challenge that he took very seriously. When the races got particularly close, he'd lean in closer to the screen, his eyes narrowing in concentration. And when you crossed the finish line first, Minho faked his death right on that couch. He'd plopped onto your lap and stick out his tongue.

As you and Minho continued playing, the atmosphere lightened, and the stress from earlier seemed to dissipate. The room echoed with laughter as the two of you engaged in a fierce Mario Kart competition.

However, little did you both know that the other boys had finished their work and were on their way back to the dorm. As two of them approached the door, they exchanged glances, wondering if Minho was still immersed in his work or if he had finally decided to take a break.

As the door creaked open, Minho was in the midst of a loud cheer, having won a close race. Your lips formed a fake pout, teasing Minho for his impressive gaming skills. Before you could utter a word, Minho grabbed your face and planted a sweet kiss on your lips. With a satisfied grin, he plopped back down onto your lap, his eyes shifting to the TV which displayed his victory.

His eyes were fixed on the screen, and he didn't notice the entrance of his fellow members. Seungmin and Felix stood frozen for a moment, taking in the unexpected scene before them.

Minho, still admiring his victory, suddenly felt a shift in the atmosphere. His eyes flickered from the screen to your face, and then he followed your gaze to the open doorway. There, standing in various states of shock and amusement, were his friends.

Minho's cheerful expression faltered as he registered their presence. He quickly disentangled himself from your lap, clearing his throat awkwardly and avoiding eye contact.

"Hey," he mumbled, attempting to regain his composure.

Minho's sudden change in behaviour didn't go unnoticed by them. The two exchanged puzzled glances, silently communicating their surprise at witnessing a side of Minho they had never seen before.

Seungmin smirked. "Didn't know playing video games could be so... intimate."

Minho's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he tried to brush off the situation. "No, just taking a break from choreo. Y/n happened to drop by."

You offered a friendly wave to the members, trying to diffuse the tension. "Long time no see."

"Didn't know he had such a soft side for you." Felix looked in your direction.

Seungmin raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, Minho, you've been keeping this hidden from us."

Minho avoided making eye contact with anyone. "It's not a big deal. We're just hanging out."

Felix interjected, "Alright, alright, let the man breathe. Maybe he's just trying out a new gaming strategy."

Seungmin smirked, "Yeah, because everyone knows that cuddling enhances your Mario Kart skills."

Minho sighed, realizing he was caught in a situation he couldn't easily escape. The members, still amused, decided to join the gaming session, pulling up chairs and grabbing controllers. The atmosphere lightened up again as everyone got immersed in the races. Amidst the gaming chaos, you felt a subtle shift beside you. Glancing at Minho, you noticed a small smile playing on his lips as he looked at you. Seizing the opportunity, you casually leaned against him, and to your surprise, Minho didn't pull away. Instead, he subtly wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer.

Felix, ever observant, caught the moment and exchanged a knowing look with Seungmin. A mischievous grin spread across Felix's face as he nudged Seungmin, who raised an eyebrow in response. It seemed like the members were enjoying this unexpected revelation of Minho's softer side. Minho's hesitancy towards PDA seemed to going away slightly. He didn't shy away when you rested your head on his shoulder, and he even tickled you a little during one of the races.

The night turned into a fun and lighthearted gathering, with laughter filling the air as everyone bonded over Mario Kart. The initial surprise at seeing Minho in a more vulnerable and relaxed state slowly faded, replaced by acceptance and genuine enjoyment of the moment. As the clock ticked away, the group decided to take a break from gaming and sat together in the living room, sharing stories and enjoying the dinner Jeongin had eventually brought. It was during these moments that you could see a different side of Minho showing the side that wasn't afraid to be affectionate in front of his friends.

The members of Stray Kids, who had initially been concerned about Minho's reserved nature in public, began to see the depth of his relationship with you. They witnessed the way he looked at you, the way he smiled, and the subtle gestures of affection that spoke volumes about the connection you shared.

After dinner, as the night wound down, the members bid their goodbyes, as you went over to the door to leave. Minho stood up, indicating that he would walk you home. The others exchanged knowing glances, teasing smiles playing on their lips.

As you and Minho stepped out of the dorm, the cool night air greeted you. The city lights illuminated the streets as you began the short walk to your apartment. The atmosphere was comfortable, a companionable silence settling between you and Minho.

"I appreciate you coming over," Minho said, his tone sincere. "It's been a hectic few weeks, and tonight was exactly what I needed."

"I'm glad I could be here for you," you replied, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "You don't always have to carry everything on your own, Minho. It's okay to lean on others, especially those who care about you."

He nodded, a grateful smile on his face. "Thank you,"

"Anytime," you replied, giving him a soft smile. "It was nice spending time with everyone."

Minho nodded, his hand finding yours. "I guess they know now," he added with a hint of playfulness.

You chuckled. "Well, it's not a bad thing. They seem to like this side of you."

He smirked. "Yeah, yeah, I can't escape their teasing now. They're gonna tell the other dorm all about it"

You squeezed his hand. "You'll be alright. Besides, it's nice to see you letting your guard down a bit."

Minho leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I guess you have that effect on me."

As you reached your apartment building, you turned to face Minho. "Well, this is me. Thank you for tonight."

Minho smiled, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your lips. "No, thank you. I needed this more than you know."

You both exchanged a loving gaze, the unspoken understanding between you deepening. With a final goodnight, you entered your building, watching as Minho waited until you were safely inside.

As you settled on your couch, you decided to check your social media accounts before getting ready for bed. As you scrolled through your feed, you noticed a notification on Minho's private Instagram account. It surprised you because Minho rarely posted anything on his private account, and he had never posted a picture of the two of you before.

Opening the post, your heart skipped a beat as you saw a candid shot one of his members must've taken from tonight. It perfectly captured the essence of the night – both of you smiling at each other, a shared blanket over your laps, and controllers in hand.

The caption read: "Peach to my Mario"

Feeling a mix of emotions, you couldn't help but smile at the post. It was a small but significant step for Minho to share a piece of your relationship with the world, even if it was just on his private account.

"Photo credits?" One of the comments read, from Seungmin.

As you liked and replied to a few comments, you couldn't shake the feeling that this marked a subtle shift in Minho's approach to PDA. Maybe, just maybe, the night had not only been a release for him but also a realization that sharing moments of vulnerability with you and his friends wasn't something to be afraid of.

#lee know #lee know one shot #lee know skz #skz lee know #lee know fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids comfort #lee know fic #lee know imagines #soft #fluff #lee know fanfiction #lee know fanfic

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chahnniesroom · 1 month

Text

to have and to hold

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!

a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?”

Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.

Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.

“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”

“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.

“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”

“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.

“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”

“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.”

“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”

“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”

“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”

—

Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.

Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.

Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach.

When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.

“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.

“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”

Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.

Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball, some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.

He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.

“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.

Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.

“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”

“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”

Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.

“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”

He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.

It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.

“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”

By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.

Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.

When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal.

After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.

Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.

When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.

That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck.

“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”

“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”

“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

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proxima-writes · 6 months

Text

SWEET TOOTH

pairing: mike schmidt x female reader

rating: explicit

word count: 1.1k

summary: mike has a sweet tooth. when he sees you come home from the grocery store with an extra bag you’re trying to hide, your efforts to keep your candy away from him turn dirty.

author’s note: i have no explanation. just a sprinkle of josh hutcherson brain rot that turned into this.

warnings/tag: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), established relationship, dry humping, desperate mike, sub mike vibes, pet names (including good boy), teasing, play fighting, kissing, mike cumming in his pants, begging.

Mike stumbles out of the bedroom when he hears the door open, the rustle of plastic grocery bags followed by the gentle opening and closing of the kitchen cabinets letting him know you’re back from dropping Abby off at school and running to the store. He didn’t sleep much but it doesn’t matter, not when he’s been missing you for the last couple of nights.

“Hey,” he says, entering the kitchen and sliding his arms around your waist. “What did you get?”

“Just the usual. Some frozen pizzas. Rice. Those burritos you like were on sale, so I got a bunch of those,” you reply. There’s a bag on the counter that’s still full and when he tries to reach for it to help you out, you snatch it away. He raises his eyebrows.

“What’s in the bag?” He asks.

“Nothing.” You step away from him, hiding the bag behind your back. “It’s just…feminine things.”

He doesn’t buy it.

“You mean the same feminine things that are fully stocked in the bathroom right now?”

You shrug. “They were on sale.”

“I don’t think you’re telling the truth,” he teases, taking another step toward you. You back up, but he moves forward. You shift to the side and he follows suit. “Is it candy?”

You stomp your foot petulantly. “Michael Schmidt, you are not stealing my candy this time. You and Abby ate all of my M&Ms last weekend!”

“Sharing is caring!” He tries to reach for you but you duck around him, running for the living room with your bag in hand.

Mike chases after you, following the sound of your laughter and watching as you round the back of the couch, using the piece of furniture to defend yourself. Every time he moves, you shift in the other direction, bag still held behind your back. He moves forward and your eyes narrow.

“Don’t you dare,” you hiss. Like a disobedient cat, he places one foot on the couch cushions, raising his eyebrows at you in defiance. “Michael Schmidt!”

He rushes over the furniture toward you, a shriek that turns into a giggle filling the room as closes in on you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest.

“Gotcha,” he teases. He reaches around to grapple for the bag, struggling grab it as you move it out of his reach. Your ass is snug against his hips and his cock takes notice of the contact, twitching in his sweatpants.

“You got a little problem there, Mike?” You ask, voice teasing. You grind against him and he hisses, eyes fluttering closed. His hands still, settling on your hips.

“F-fuck,” he stutters. You take advantage of his moment of weakness, breaking free from his grasp and rushing across the room. “Hey!”

He charges after you again, grabbing you around the waist again and throwing both of your bodies over the back of the couch, the two of you landing in a heap of limbs on the cushions. You hold the bag of candy up over your head and he reaches over you, success so close he can taste it.

Your hips twitch against the knee he’s got planted on the cushions between your legs and he pauses, glancing down in interest. In his distraction, you shift your weight enough to send him toppling to the ground, landing with a thump and a groan on his back.

He looks up at you, sees the little smirk on your lips, the mischievous glint in your eye, and he knows he’s in trouble. You grind yourself against him and his eyes roll back at the sensation, the friction of your body against his familiar and consuming in the best way.

“What’s the matter, Mike?” You ask, voice teasing. “Thought you wanted my candy?”

“Mm, candy can wait,” he manages to murmur, lifting his hands to slide his palms along your thighs. “I could use some sugar, though.”

You laugh, head thrown back and shoulders shaking. “That was so bad!”

“Made you laugh, though,” he counters. You smile at him, planting your hands on his chest to steady yourself as you lean close, lips ghosting over his.

He kisses you, slow at first, lips moving in a familiar dance. He swipes his tongue against yours, relishing in the heat and taste of you. You wriggle in his lap like you can’t help yourself, can’t sit still, little sighs escaping you as he kisses you senseless. You feel so good on top of him, surrounding him, grounding him to a present where he doesn’t have to worry about work and bills and money and whether he’s doing well enough for Abby.

You break away from him with a slick pop, lips glistening with spit. You move over him again, this time with intent. You drag your clothed pussy over his hard cock, slow and steady, back and forth.

“Mmm, w-why don’t we take this to the — fuck — bedroom?” Mike asks, trying to hold you still. His fingers dig into your hips but that only seems to spur you on. “Come on, lemme make you feel good.”

“Feel plenty good just like this,” you murmur. Mike bites his lip, squeezes his eyes shut, thinks about anything but the friction of your pussy against his cock but all his mind goes to is images of you splayed out in bed, leaking cum and glistening with sweat. He whines, hips bucking up against you.

“Please, f-fuck,” he bites out. “If you d-don’t stop I’m gonna—“

“Gonna what, Mike? Cum in your pants for me?”

Mike groans, long and loud, that knot in his stomach going taut. He can feel himself leaking in his boxers, an embarrassingly sticky mess that you’ve made of him without even touching him.

“Come on,” you encourage, sliding a hand from his chest up to the base of his throat. “Good boys cum when they’re told, baby.”

The slight pressure on his neck, the rocking of your hips, the dark look in your eyes, it’s all too much, too soon, too good. Mike’s hips stutter, warmth flooding him as he cums and cums and cums, cock twitching against you as you slow your movements.

You stop, sitting still on top of him. He’s panting, aching fingers flexing on your thighs as you run a hand through his hair before kissing him, soft pecks of your lips over his face that have him smiling like a dope.

“If this is what I get if I eat your candy then I hope you know it’ll never be safe,” he teases. You smack his chest, standing and grabbing the discarded bag from the floor.

“If you touch my gummy bears, you better get real acquainted with your hand,” you reply.

“Might be worth it for gummy bears.”

A handful of the gummy bears pelt his face and you laugh as he pops one in his mouth. You finish off the bag together before Mike returns the favor.

Over and over and over.

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