#short n sweet drabbles

[suavemania]

to be honest with you...

pairing: leon kennedy x reader word count: 850+ reader summary: you cant help yourself and tell leon the truth, you like him a bit too much than just a casual fling. warning: this sat in my drafts so here it is notes: not pining for once. just a bit short and sweet before i drop the most emotionally destructive drabble ive inflicted on myself:(

“I think I like you.” 

The words just came out, almost as if you couldn’t help yourself. Your body was pressed against his, you were on top of him; fingers had just traced his collarbone.You blinked at him, your eyes wide as you realized just what you had said.

The two of you weren’t anything official. It started with meet-ups every now and then, bodies intertwining with each other for emotional comfort. The nights would always end with the two of you sleeping next to each other, clinging onto the other as if to cram in as much physical touch before the sun came up. The two of you always hated mornings, but for various reasons. Leon never liked mornings because it meant he had to leave. You hated mornings because you would have to kill the feeling in you that this was more, meant more than just being a casual thing.

You swore that you wouldn’t meet him more after the tenth time, it was always on his accord, his rules. He would be the one to reach out, he would be the one to reply hours later after you ask him simple questions- it was never easy to get to him (you never knew why), but god, it was easy to be with him. His hands were always placed on your body perfectly, he always knew where to touch, where to be and when. It’s like he set his eyes on you, and he just knew how to treat you, to adore you, to love you. Parts of you would die for him, and you always figured it was because the two of you never just settled with ‘fucking’ each other, it had to be more. 

Your eyes would always lock with each other, hands clasping and bodies pressing desperately against each other; almost as if to carve a part in the other. It felt like love. To be filled with the desire to dig for each other, to live inside the very ribcage of the other but settling for just sex because it was as close as you were gonna get to being a part of him. 

It wasn’t only about being close to each other’s bodies. It was also the fact that the two of you didn’t sleep, like at all. After every session, the two of you would lie in your bed, chatting about everything, like for example: your theory that Leon dyes his hair blonde or Leon scolding you for the way you cook your scrambled eggs in the mornings. 

The routine is uncomplicated, simple yet enough:

Leon would come over. You’d kiss, sloppy kisses turn into passionate, feverish ones. It would be a stumbling battle to the bed, Leon would push you to the bed, leaving you to say: how did we actually pull it off to get here? Which was Leon’s cue to shut you up until your brain couldn’t possibly string together a sentence properly. Then, it was just mindless chatting so long into the night that the two of you would later head into the kitchen to cook a late-night snack. From there, it would just be a movie to fall asleep, or more chatting until the other went silent, usually you.

“You like me?” Leon asks, raising an eyebrow as you push yourself off his chest, scrambling for your underwear as you try to cover your body with the wrinkled, warm sheets. 

“I don’t know-” you spit out, hands aimlessly patting at the floor. Where were your underwear and why did it feel like everything had gotten a lot darker? And was it always this warm in the room? You let out a whine, but suddenly you felt the warm muscular chest meet your back. A gentle hand placed on your shoulder as Leon leans into your ear, his hot air brushing your already-blushing ear. 

“I know something you don’t.” He muses, and you could just hear that Leon had a smirk on his dumb, soft lips. The lips that you so desperately didn’t want to stop kissing. You close your eyes, feeling the awkward tension in your body numbing your entire body. Was this it, the slow humiliation? The painful end of your casual meet-ups that you promised you were fine with, settling for the crumbs of Leon that you could possibly get?

“What’s that?” You respond, a small tinge of reluctance as you await Leon’s disapproval, still disgruntled over the disappearance of your undergarments. Leon chuckles, plopping your underwear onto your lap as he lays himself down onto the bed again.

“That I think I like you too,” He says, and you could feel his eyes on you as you turn to look at him. The words sent a shiver down your spine, and then the lower part of your stomach began stirring. Your heart beating in your chest as you felt yourself growing needy. Without really realizing it yourself, you inch closer to him; disregarding the found underwear that was given to you by him. 

“Now come over here.” he says, his voice soft and affectionate as he speaks. "I want to kiss you."

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil 4 #resident evil leon #short n sweet drabbles #suavemania #im a fkn idiot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!but hi

[m3talmunson]

It started with babes. Babes is completely platonic right? Nothing out of the ordinary there. Eddie was known for being over dramatic, why would nicknames -or in this case, pet names- be any different?

Babes wasn't even that over the top, so why was Steve blushing like a school girl after it was said in passing?

Steve definitely knew why, although, he was going to pretend he didn't. But he knew, about himself, about Eddie. A couple months after spring break '86 Steve had a very enlightening talk with Robin about his feelings. Towards Munson. Those completely and totally platonic feelings.

And a couple weeks later, as though Eddie was so in tune with Steve's discovery, Eddie came out to Steve at a campfire with Robin and Nance. Those two had wandered off, Eddie made some comment about "Good for Robs," before realizing his mistake. That was, until Steve said "Yeah, good for Robs," and Eddie just had to ask.

"You know about her? Y'know..."

"What? Eddie? Of course! She's my best friend."

"And you're ok with it?" Eddie was kind of shocked. Great 'King' Steve wasn't going to sick the dogs on Hawkins Local Lesbian? And it seemed like he had known longer than Eddie?

"Yeah, when you survive hell and back enough it's pretty hard to hate anyone for being gay." Steve left off the part where he was also into guys. He knew Eddie was ok with that, clearly ok with Robin, but Eddie might not be ok with being the guy Steve was into.

"Oh. Well," Eddie didn't know if it was the couple beers he had downed, or his newfound safety with this big ol' group of misfits, but he was comfortable asking Steve, "What if I was like Robin too?"

"Are you?" Steve asked. He wasn't going to get his hopes up over hypotheticals, but he could admit he had feelings for the older boy. He wasn't sure what feelings to be honest,but he was figuring that out as he went. He just knew they were more than platonic.

"Well, technically I'm the opposite of Robin, y'know. Not attracted to women. But yeah, I am." Eddie stared into the camp fire, torn between hoping that it would eat him alive, or that it would simply stare back.

"Okay, thanks for trusting me." Steve responded, plain as day.

He had asked Robin, if someone were to come out to him (granted they were not just drugged by Russians), what would she have wanted to hear. And he finally got the chance to use it, seeing the way Eddie's shoulders dropped in relief.

"So you're like actually ok with it?"

"Like I said, been to hell and back with you, who you love doesn't mean a thing over that."

" Yeah," Eddie said,"But most straight guys don't like it when gay guys flirt relentlessly with them."

"We'll keep that one between us then, won't we?" Steve wasn't entirely ready to correct Eddie on the straight thing, so he just didn't acknowledge that part. He chose to ignore the blush rise on his face, blaming it internally on the heat of the fire.

He also tried to ignore that at that point, the nicknames picked up.

It started with babes. Then baby, which made Steve's brain flutter. Then sweetheart. Eddie only used that one when he wanted something, and yet Steve still loved it. Stevie was one of the fan favorites. Not really a pet name, but used just as lovingly as one. Sometimes Eddie held out the end, in a sing-song voice. Made Steve weak in the knees. Eddie knew what he was doing.

It was babe that made Steve do something about it. Eddie used sweetheart, baby, Stevie, around everyone. In front of the kids, on his various trips to Family Video (whether to buy or annoy, who knew). But babe. Babe was just for Steve and Steve alone.

So of course, the only logical order of events was for Steve to start using them back.

It started with babe, the obvious choice. Fight fire with fire, or whatever. The meaningless pet names ended with babes too.

Because after Eddie kissed Steve to shut him up, they suddenly had meaning.

#short n sweet cause ive been gone for too long #in more personal news! just got cast as one of my lifelong dream roles in theatre yesterday! #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve stranger things #eddie stranger things #steddie blurb #steddie drabble #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #pet names

[formulafics]

★ MR. ALL AMERICAN | LS2

Scenario: in which max verstappens little sister thought she was doing a good job hiding her relationship from her older brother, but the hard launch isn’t surprising to him.

Pairing: logan sargeant x fem!verstappen!reader

A/N: guys i love logan sargeant sm, and this requests was super cute and fun to make. enjoy!! 🫶🏻

yn_verstappen

liked by maxverstappen1, logansargeant, alex_albon, and 201,432 others

yn_verstappen just a late night track walk…plus a silly little picture of max since the max girlies in my comments are begging me for it

view all 2,453 comments

formulamax HELP i feel so called out by the caption

grillthegridddddd slide three? 🤨 who is that yn?

⤷ rizzciardo me thinks logan sargeant

⤷ norrizzlando nah that doesn’t look that much like logan

⤷ sargeantformula IT LOOKS LIKE HIM BUT DOESNT AT THE SAME TIME

⤷ supermax33 maybe it’s max?

maxverstappendefender yn feeding us once more. thank you @/yn_verstappen

⤷ yn_verstappen your welcome 😌

⤷ sargeantformula riddle me this is that logan sargeant? pls answer i have to know

yn_verstappen

liked by logansargeant, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 142,320 others

yn_verstappen just enjoying the view (oh and a beach and logan’s friend is there)

view all 2,342 comments

logansargeant idk i’d say my view was better

⤷ yn_verstappen of course you would (ilysm)

formulasargeant i would kill to know what max’s response to this was LMAOO

⤷ mv33lvr he’s definitely fed up LMAO

oscarpiastri this is not the post i expected from you, yn.

⤷ yn_verstappen i’m sorry i’ll do better

⤷ maxverstappen1 no you won’t

⤷ yn_verstappen yeah youre right i won’t.

*liked by yn_verstappen*

f1girlie YN FEEDING US LOGAN CONTENT 👏 logan girlies please rise

godblessls2 MOTHER IS MOTHERING - thank you for the content, yn

sargeantformula GIRL did you edit logan’s shirt in that soft launch? 😭 you were working hard trying to make it less obvious

⤷ yn_verstappen HELP no one has to know i did that

formulasargeant Who else saw logan’s post of yn

⤷ ynswife BRO SHES SO FINE HELP ME i did not expect to be blessed with yn in a bikini today

#✩ . ls² files 🏎️ #short and sweet #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula one #f1 drabble #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 x you #formula one fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 x female reader #formula one social media au #formula one smau #formula one x you #formula one fluff #formula one x reader #formula one fic #formula 1 #f1 x y/n #f1 fandom #f1 #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant

[lipglossanon]

Rain

Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (fluffy drabble)

Warnings: none! just some cute fluff with Leon :3

inspired by real life 🤭 and not proofread ✍️

title from Rain by Breaking Benjamin

“Hey hold up a sec.”

You turn, blinking through the drops of rain slipping from the hood of your jacket as Leon stops beside you on the sidewalk. 

You open your mouth to ask why when he crouches down in place. Brows furrowing in confusion, you hold off on saying anything as he reaches down in front of him. 

“It’s a worm,” you say aloud without meaning to.

He laughs softly, “Yeah, gonna move’em back to the grass.”

You watch quietly as he tries to wrangle the wriggling little animal in between his fingers. 

“C’mon buddy, don’t want you to suffocate,” he murmurs down to it, coaxing it to curl up for a better grip. 

Leon uses one hand to gently shift the worm forward into his opposite hand. Watching him go out of his way for something so small makes warmth bloom in your chest like a flower. The rain’s a light drizzle, more like a mist, wetting you both but not enough to make you antsy about getting dry. It’s a wonderfully dreary day and Leon’s taking the time to save a worm on the sidewalk. 

He doesn’t see the smile spreading across your face as you watch him finally pick up the worm and set it down on the grassy patch of dirt off to the side. 

“Should be fine,” he finally stands and turns to you, “what?” He laughs, returning the dopey smile you’re sure you have on your own face.

“Nothing, you’re cute s’all,” you nod to the path in front of you, “wanna keep going?”

“Of course,” he wiggles his fingers at you, “wanna hold hands?”

You scoff and roll your eyes, nudging him with your elbow when he falls into step with you.

“As if, nature boy.”

#lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #drabbles #fluff #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #fem!reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy fanfiction #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #short and sweet #fic blurb #blurbs

[pupsqueakerz]

hada silly lil thought...doin choso's makeup while sittin on his lap, hehe....had 'ta write somethin quick bout it!!!

cw: not proof read, m!reader, no pronouns other than "you" used though.

" almost done...."

you mutter, your eyes narrowed in concentration. your hands steady as you press the lipgloss applicator to choso's lip, the pink tint smearing across his lips.

a satisfied huff slips past your lips as you lean back, closing the tub of lipgloss, "there we go". choso stared down at you, finding it amusing how proud you were about finally convincing him to let you do his makeup.

" guess i"m pretty now, huh?" he asks, leaning in for a kiss. only for you to lean back, away from him, "wait wait-" your lips pout as a huff leaves your lips, "you're gonna ruin your makeup n' you haven't even seen yourself yet."

choso ignores your complaint, his hands gripping your hips to keep you still as he chuckles, "doesn't matter-" he mumbles, " 've been staring at your cute face for the past 20 minutes" his lips press against your jaw, smearing the pink across your skin as he kisses you, "and you looked so damn cute all concentrated n stuff" he continued, pressing another kiss to the corner of you lips.

"choso-" you start to protest, only to get cut off by his lips pressing against yours. you can't help but giggle as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him back.

he pulls away with a sigh, his eyes flickering over your face. one of his hands leaves your hip, cupping the side of your face. his thumb brushing the edge of your bottom lip, wiping away some of the gloss that transfered, "plus, it looks better on you anyways..."

#˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ #choso...choso m' boyfriend... #love him so so much #short n' sweet!! #drabble #choso kamo #male reader #m!reader #x male reader #x reader #choso x reader #choso x male reader

[xeniray]

SCREAM & CRY !

synopsis - tr boys who not scared of being vocal during sex.

warnings - twitter links. visuals. sub / dom!f!readers . sub/dom!tr boys , creampie , cervix kissin’ . marking (??) .mention of porno . use / mention of toys . edgin . ( m ) oral . mention to of bondage ( ?? ) .sweet ol’ lovin’ . degradation & praise ( ? ) . use of ‘ pretty, baby , love & bitch ’

☰ KAZUTORA [ one ] [ two ] [ three ]

talking about a fucking baby. he’s whining for his goddamn life. constantly repeating short things to himself. not like he’s scared or anything he just can’t get his words out, and it embarrasses him.

“ f-feel good..” kazutora muttered as he threw his arm across his face. a rose tint covered his cheeks as he looked to the side trying to hide.

he’s so cute. can't even get his words out properly. he’s embarrassed, ready to crawl in a hole and die at this point.

“ baby i f-feel go-“ being cut off as he bucks his hips up. strings of the sticky substance filling your hole. looking down at him he’s covering his face. can’t believe this. not only he could barely say anything, he came so fast and inside you.

you’re not mad, not one bit. it cute when he’s like this.

☰ HAKKAI [ one ] [ two ] [ three ]

acts all big and bold. telling you that he’ll have you crying and begging for his thick dick all fucking night. he’s a terrible liar by the way…

“cant…take it…anymore….” he’s biting on his lips as he’s pumping his dick in your hole. good, you feel so fucking good. so fucking good. he’s in such a high. head thrown back trying to calm himself down.

but god damn. the way you moan? moaning and crying his fucking name each time he thrust inside you. “ hakkai! oh my- fuck..” god you sound so good. music to his damn ears.

mans so drunk on the feeling of you. the way you look each time you feel his tip kiss your cervix. the way you pull him into a kiss to keep your moans down. the way you’re holding onto him, like it’s for bear fucking life. nails digging in his skin.

“ so pretty… my baby ‘s so pretty”

☰ TAKEMICHI [ one ] [ two ] [ three ]

you make him feel like it’s his virgin days again. where he’s taking his fleshlight to make him feel good. sitting in front of the screen watching some random porno. you make him feel like he’s creating his own dream porno.

“ just like that!” ‘michi mewls as he grips onto the chair arm. you look up at him, fluttering your lashes. taking his dick in your mouth. tongue wrappin' around his flushed tip.

“ w-why stop? ‘mon baby!” his high dies down as he looks down. you get up from your knees walking over to the desk.

“ wanna feel good?” you smile at him as you pull out the cockring along with a vibrator. you watch as he shook his head yes. it's like he just saw the best thing in his life.

right as he was getting up from the seat you pushed him back down. he gave a confused look at your small action. that was till he saw the white rope right beside you.

“ wanna hear you say my name, gonna make you feel so good tonight baby “

☰ DRAKEN [ one ] [ two ] [ three ]

always groaning and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. he’s not the subby type of vocal- don’t get me wrong. he can be, be he’s more of the dom type of vocal.

“ can't stop looking at ya’, so god damn beautiful” draken muttered against your skin as he placed a soft kiss on your shoulder blade. one hand groping your tits as he pumped two fingers in and out of ya.

times like this he loves. your back against his chest, skin touching each other. draken literally goes crazy for moments like this. where you can just lay there while he’s making you feel good.

“ come on love, cum for me” he whispered. feeling your clamp down on his fingers you gripped anything that was close to your side, mouth agape as you moan off your oragasm.

“ wanna go again? i just love the way you look when i treat you.”

☰HANMA [ one ] [ two ] [ three ]

same as draken. always moanin' and groanin’ in your ears like it’s nothing. splurging curses in your ear. he makes sure that you know how good you make him feel.

“ fuckin’ bitch, just like that” he hisses as his palm comes in contact with your skin. he wraps his hand around your throat as he gets close to you. kissing your lips he continues to thrust inside you, pace never stopping.

“ stop looking pretty” he slurs as he pulls away from the kiss. “won't be able to stop at it you look at me like that” it doesn’t even fucking matter. hell, keep going till you literally can't take him anymore. hole filled with his hot seed and all.

panting a bit he pulled out of you. looking down at your pussy he watched as the cum leaked, getting on the sheets. he looked back at you who did a sheepish smile. your high starter to die down as you felt hanma move down. you thought he was getting off the bed, till he grabbed your legs pulling you close to him.

“ i just cant stop, you look to pretty. i just gotta break ya “

#☰ xen notes. #☰ xeniary. #tokyo revengers #short n’ sweet ! #drabble #tr scenarios #tw visuals #twt links #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev smut #hanma scenario #draken scenarios #kazutora scenarios #takemichi smut #takemichi scenario #hakkai scenarios #tr hakkai #tr kazutora #tr draken #x reader #tw nswf #tokyo rev scenarios #tokyo revengers scenarios #kazutora smut #hanma smut #hakkai smut

[muzzlemouths]

I know the meaning of the words ever after

This was a small oneshot I wrote up for the DCAH server's writing contest, which I've since tidied up some to post here! It takes place somewhere between 1940-1950 — which isn't super relevant to the story, but it's important to me that you know. lol.

There is a song mentioned in the fic that I feel really adds to the atmosphere when listened to while reading. I am so insistent on you listening to this song that I've linked it in the fic's wording below. please do this one thing for me I promise it's worth it

Sun&Moon centric // wordcount: 1109

This house is full of ghosts.

Nothing ghoulish, mind you. The floors have been swept of evil fiends long before now. Rather, these old, yellow walls are haunted by the ghosts of memory. Like dust embraces the morning as it pours through open blinds, here before your eyes and gone by the afternoon, so, too, do the inhabitants of this old home move within it.

Even now, your hands buried in the kitchen sink and worrying over a piece of china, can you see them dawdling your peripheral vision. The sunflowers on your table dance on invisible strings and arrange themselves with endless repetition.

You hum, “Leave them be,” your words undeniably hidden behind the fondness of laughter. The arrangement stills, its orchestrator caught red handed. You settle the rinsed teacup on a cloth to your left and return to the sink for the two that remain. “They’re already perfect, Sun,” your insistence brings with it a smile, “stop fussing and help me set the table, won’t you? I’m almost done with this.”

Though normally eager to lend you a hand, today it seems they are all too happy to ignore your request. The gentle ting of a bell precedes their arrival at your back, instead, where they waste no time in stealing the cup right out from under your fingers.

“Hey,” you make a lazy grab for it only to see the cup raised just out of reach, a lighthearted taunt that doesn’t go unheard, “that’s not what I asked you to do, mister,” you tut. There’s no real anger behind your words. You know this, and they certainly know it, too, because the cup remains where it’s at. “Fine, fine, be that way. You can finish washing up, then.”

You expect to be thwarted for a second time, teased a while longer. They answer with the song of more bells, instead, the noise like a windchime carried through an open window, and — to your pleasant surprise — it’s followed by the unmistakable sound of your china dipping beneath the faucet.

Offering them a satisfied thrum, you begin to collect the readied teacups from where they rest, dry and ready to find their way to the table. One by one you arrange them until each cup is in its place. Sun offers you the final cup a moment later, patted dry by hand, and you hesitate in setting this one down. Its starry pattern catches your eye and for a moment, only a moment, you’re brought back to a time when these cups held more than memories.

Sun grounds you with a sympathetic touch to your shoulder. It’s impossible to miss the expression you know is there. To worry is their second nature.

You wave them off with a dull smile, “just getting sentimental,” you promise, and the cup is settled into place a minute after. With this, the table is finally set just how you like it. The centerpiece breathes life into the picturesque assembly of it all. Life that is welcomed as much as it is necessary, for the bread bin is only stale crumbs and the door creaks with the weight of a decade. Your pantry has gone stale over the years. 

The frames that hold up this home of yours have forgotten what it feels like to keep a gift which is new — alive, but you remember, and you aren’t going to let yourself forget any time soon.

Having already noticed your dwelling again, you find Sun’s hand has slipped its way into your own and, just like that, the thoughts pass quickly as they came before they’re given the chance to become anything worse. All too soon are they leading you out of the kitchen, an insistence in each step that has you tripping over your own feet with anticipation and laughter.

The fireplace roars to life following your arrival to the livingroom. Though the wood in its castiron mouth has long since been devoured, your chime-tongued companions somehow find a way to recreate the wonderful flame time and time again.

Across the room, your zenith radio clicks and coughs through a thick layer of dust, untouched by any hand. It chugs along, filtering through countless voices before landing on something specific; Frank Sinatra's Polka Dots and Moonbeams.

“I love this song,” you croon. But they already know. They know you like no one else. “We used to dance to this song, do you remember?” Your chest warms as nostalgia plays the memories for you like an old record. The many times you’ve spun circles over this same carpet, ragged now beneath weightless feet, and the first time you heard its wonderful tune. That day they helped you fold new wallpaper into place, the way in which it peels away after all this time now something like small petals along the wall.

“Do you remember?” You repeat yourself with more insistence this time, a breathless whisper. Tears begin to stray from the corner of your eyes — not anguished, but grateful. You can’t imagine anyone else you would rather spend the rest of your days left, regardless of if those days are few or forever.

You’re answered with a hollower bell’s ting and the wonderful scent of lavender. The tattered blinds fold together on their own, enveloping the room in a darkness only broken by the fireplace at your back. Cool, lithe hands sneak beneath your palms, fingers curling between your own. 

You’re lead a step backwards, then forwards once more, a graceful motion that is all too familiar. 

“You do remember,” said in such a whisper, tucked behind a smile, you aren’t sure they even hear you. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Moon guides you across the room in small, rhythmic circles, your footsteps leaving no trace in their wake. The voice in your radio sings of lilacs and laughter. When your dance slows and your cheek rests pleasantly against their chest, you come to decide the only thing that matters is already right here in front of you.

One day, inevitably, this house will no longer have the strength to stand. It will crumble and it will fall, and it will take with it your teacups, and your music, and your fancy vase with its old, dried flowers, but it will never steal away this moment. All too soon the day will come when someone stumbles upon the ruins of this home, when the tap has run dry and the frame is brittle as an elder tree, and beneath the garden, between the roots, they might just find each of you forever in each other’s reach. After all…

this house is full of ghosts.

#drabbles #sun x reader #moon x reader #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #sundrop #moondrop #DCA Fandom #it's been so long i've forgotten what to tag these with lmao #hope you guys enjoy this one! #it's short n sweet <3

[thejujvtsupost]

I saw request were open so, please hear me out on this:

Nanami finding out his partner (m if possible) has a praise kink-

He would be so fucking relentless with his teasing. I literally would melt if he called me a good boy/used petnames. And that baritone voice of his, god, my knees are so weak-

Nanami’s Praise - Being Good

I love this flavor of Nanami 😌

Notes: M!reader, praise kink, soft dom Nanami, dom/sub dynamics, submission as a display of true trust.

It was an accident. You were just bringing your boyfriend a drink from the kitchen.

You had always been weak for your boyfriend, but being nearly brought to your knees with a little whine when Nanami called you a good boy wasn’t what you expected from yourself.

When you realize you made that sound out loud you’re ready to scamper away, maybe you could hide in the bathroom forever? You don’t even know where that came from. Your escape was halted before you got 5 feet further away.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Nanami calling your name, when you looked up you knew you were in for it.

“C’mere darling, come sit on my lap.” He’s waving you over with two fingers and setting his phone aside.

The urge to go to him was unnerving, but you stayed in place. Was he trying to be mean and tease you or was he mad? Was he uncomfortable? Did you make him uncomfortable enough to break up with-

“Sweetheart I won’t ask again, be a good boy and sit with me.” His tone was commanding and this time you obeyed, albeit slowly despite the tingle that went down your spine.

He pulled you into his lap when you got close enough and held your jaw in one large hand, forcing you to look at him. “Did you like that? You like being a good boy for me?”

You shivered and nodded, your eyes felt heavy and your hips jumped the tiniest bit. He smirked at you and kissed your forehead. From that day on, he would drop the praise frequently.

It was always “Thank you for being helpful sweetheart” and “Good boy doing the dishes baby”. It drove you crazy with that deep voice of his.

He knew what it did to you, and if he had a bad day at work he would lay it on thick and you knew you’d be in bed with him sooner rather than later.

Nanami wasn’t aggressive in bed. Though dominant, he took on more of a “soft dom” role after learning about your praise kink. It suited him perfectly.

“That’s it baby, doing so good for me, relax your throat a little; good boy. My good baby…”

And you felt peace in those moments, when Nanami was in charge and you just had to focus on being good for him. There wasn’t anything else to worry about besides his voice and his guidance; he would handle everything else.

You might have a praise kink, but he loves the submission you trusted him with. After all, who wouldn’t want a good boy to take care of?

Thinking about making a request? Check my bio to see if they’re open! <3

#request answered #nanami x reader #no use of y/n #light smut #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk requests #jjk x reader #reader insert #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen #anon request #drabble #headcanon #short and sweet

[mint-yooxgi]

could you do a yandere!dragon mingi?

You're so beautiful. More beautiful than all of the gems of the earth. My most valued treasure.

Look at you, so fragile and innocent, sleeping against the big, bad beast. I cannot fully hide my green scales from you, even in this form, but whenever you trace your fingers over them, I cannot help but shiver.

Do you know what a simple touch from you does to me? Are you aware of how deeply your own claws have sunk into my heart? Not that you actually have claws, but I digress.

Oh, I shouldn't huff too much. I might wake you. Besides, my smoke isn't something you should be breathing in. I don't want you to get sick.

Still, I'll pull you in closer; hold you tighter. You enjoy being wrapped up in my warmth, and I love it when you subconsciously curl in closer to me. It mirrors the way my own lips curl upwards from simply looking at you. Just like now.

I wouldn't trade this for anything.

I will never let another take you away from me again. If that makes me the fabled dragon who keeps his princess locked away in a tower for all eternity, then so be it. I will not lose you again.

For now, sleep, My Princess. Your guardian, your lover will watch over you forevermore. I've got you, and this time, I'm not letting you go.

Never again.

#ask #yandere mingi #mingi scenario #mingi drabble #yandere ateez #ateez drabble #drabbles #dragon au #short n sweet

[human-psyche]

SWEET AND SOUR.

characters: jungkook x reader

genre: cute, sweet, romance, reaction / short drabble

about: jungkook can't forget a certain girl he saw at his latest concert, y/n; he wants to meet her so badly. through a chance encounter, y/n doesn't just get to meet with him but also more.

一 Jungkook returned from a special vacation in terms of scenery and tranquility, he's been so exhausted from his work; but, keeping this one detail to himself, he desperately wants to see the girl who'd attracted his attention at his last concert again…

一 Y/n would cheer his name a lot at the stage. while optimistic and with enthusiasm for his carefree yet artistic genre of music, she'd always like to tell him that his songs are full of emotion and even the tone of his melodious, soothing voice fascinates her; there's something impressively friendly yet attractive about this, even if she only knows it from listening to songs and concerts.

一 she honestly can say that she loves his presence and feels at ease around him.

一 one day, just as Y/n's going to buy some clothes from a well-appointed shop in an elegant sense given that she needs a dress for a party, she notices a person with a mask on to cover his identity, who, without realizing, touches her hand with a light gesture as they both open the door of the clothing store containing stylish fashion creations at the same time;

一 the male withdraws his hand very politely without causing her any discomfort and offers Y/n an alluring eyesmile as apology, giving her priority to enter the store.

一 unconsciously, in an intriguing manner, during the time that they choose what they need, Jungkook and Y/n befriend each other, on their way to his car too, and he invites her to have a drink at the bar of the hotel where he recently stays at which Y/n accepts, finally fully getting to see it's actually him when he pulls his mask off as they sit and enjoy their drinks.

一 this is not the only surprise she gets, because Jungkook also kisses her and Y/n, who's looking into his eyes, thinks to herself how much she's entranced that he combines his earlier good manners with his daring way of showing that he likes her.

#jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x y/n #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #bts #cute #sweet #romance #short drabble

[shywhumpauthor]

May 15th- “When did you get so brave?”

[counting | masochist | soldering iron]

@themerrywhumpofmay

Cw: stabbing, wounds, blood, collapse, implied murder

One… two… three…

Whumpee counted their steps as they stumbled down the alleyways, the world blurring around them as they clutched a trembling hand to their side.

Four… five… six…

They could feel the phantom of the blade piercing their skin over and over again, digging in a little deeper with every movement, cutting through layers of muscle and tendon as if it was happening in real time.

Seven… eight…

Blood trickled from the wound, the warm, sticky liquid seeping through the fabric of their glove.

Nine… ten… eleven… twelve…

It hurt. Oh god it hurt so badly. Silent tears streamed down their cheeks, their breaths ragged and labored. Each shaky inhale sent a new wave of pain crashing over them, drowning them in their own agony.

Thirteen… fourteen… fifteen…

They were moving slow. Much, much, much too slow. They needed to go faster, they needed to get away. If Whumper caught up to them, they were as good as dead.

Sixteen… sevent-

Whumpee’s knees buckled underneath them, their vision tunneling as they crumpled to the ground.

#Welp #take another stabbing #short n sweet #whump #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #whumpee #whumper #its me coal #coal wrote something #merry whump of may #tw stabbing #tw torture #whump prompts #whump prompt #whump drabble #writing prompts #writing prompt #writing challenge #whump challenge

[suavemania]

― Tell me I'm not just a loser.

pairing: leon kennedy x reader

word count: 799, another short n sweet

reader summary: leon sleeps alone and has nightmares, but to comfort himself he thinks about you.

warning: i just dont proofread this stuff anymore. they are drabbles, take them!!! with all its flaws and cracks

notes: pining!!!!! I LOVE PINING!!! leon thinks the reader doesn't like him back. most delusional king ever

Leon felt the touch of ghosts tracing lines on him, tracing their smiles, their laughs. It was one of those nights where the tragedies of his past weighed heavily on his shoulders, pushing him down; making him drag his feet, leaving his fingers numb. He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling, his breathing uneven as he tried to feel the fabric of his sheets on his fingertips. He was home, alone– and it was all a bad dream. That is what he says to himself. He felt his nightmare crawl inside him, soaking him in fear, clawing its nails down his back. It was brutal, but Leon had learned to live alongside the ghosts and tragedies. 

Leon turned to his side once he gained control of his weary body, his gaze set on the window that illuminated the dark room. The faint sounds of cars driving beneath him left him somewhat comforted, knowing that he wasn’t completely alone after all. Leon had finally gotten some time off from work, leaving him with a lot more time on his hands. He likes the idea of being free from work, leaving him to do things with his time other than attending classified meetings, training, and risking his life.

But when he has free time and off-work, he realizes that he has to do one thing: sleep. Alone.

Sure, he could visit the person he wanted the most– you. But that became increasingly more difficult as he realized that he was falling in love with you (we're just friends, he protests). His mind had only rapidly focused more and more on you, the way you move, the way your lips are etched onto his mind. You had quickly become Leon’s comfort, his safe-space. With his breathing getting more steady, Leon allows himself to flutter his eyes shut. The warm comfort of his blanket wraps around him, wrapping him in the kindness of comfort. 

When Leon opened his eyes again, he imagined that it was an early summer morning. His body next to yours, and as you lie on your side; sleeping softly, he feels his heart grow fonder. He reaches for your face, caressing it with a feather-like touch. Your skin is soft against his scarred and hardened skin. He loved this scene, and would always return to it the most when his nightmares haunt him. He would run his fingers through your hair, enjoying the feeling of you on his fingertips, your warmth spilling over to him. In this bright world, he would make you breakfast, crack a smile as you clumsily try to take a picture of him while cooking. Whenever he sees you in his mind, all he can think of is kissing you. 

Kissing you.

That would be nice, he thought.

It’s funny, because he hasn't even told you yet. That when you are in your bed sleeping without him, he wonders why he isn’t with you- or why you aren’t with him, in his arms. I feel like a loser, he thinks to himself, chuckling to himself in disbelief. It’s true, Leon Kennedy was in love. He hushed his mind, trying to defend that it was just a crush. Yet he was well aware that he could see you in the future, and the truth hurts: he couldn’t have you. But he didn’t want to lose you, not at all. Perhaps if he could only open your eyes to him, to just spend one night with him- would that be enough to convince you to be with him?

A night with you.

That would be nice, he thought.

Leon had hidden his feelings from you for a long time it felt like. He assumes the both of you are hiding something, but he honestly had no idea how you felt for him. He feels something, and whenever he “accidentally” brushes his hand against yours, his body just “coincidentally” coming closer to yours, it feels right; like he can breathe again. If only he could open your eyes, to see him first. Perhaps it was selfish, waiting for you to notice him and to let him in. Leon was adamant to be polite, he would always wait at the door until you told him to come in, to let him into your heart. 

But to be completely honest with himself: Leon wished to drink you up, to forever let your essence keep him warm at night, running through his veins. To press his lips against yours, letting himself melt into your mouth and run his hands on your side, squeezing at your body as if he couldn’t possibly believe that you were real. That his hands were on you. 

His hands on you. 

That would be nice, he thought before getting up from bed.

It was time to stop.

#im here for leon losing his marbles bc he is HOPELESSLY DEVOTED TO YOU #resident evil leon #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #resident evil 4 #short n sweet drabbles #suavemania

[soobnny]

hanji drabble tomorrow <3

#%!! sue rambles #might make more drabbles #i love writing short n sweet moments

[orcelito]

Somehow Sentido has reached 500 kudos. In less than a month.

It took months and months of work on discacc to reach 500 kudos. This is honestly kinda crazy to me

#speculation nation #like yes my writing skills have improved dramatically. largely bc of practice with writing discacc. #but Still. it's pretty crazy to me #itnl has been growing a lot more slowly than sentido. i think bc it's more niche #sentido was mostly based in tristamp which is a lot easier to get into than trimax #trimax takes a lot of time to work thru. and i am doing a thing with Very Late spoilers. #so less ppl r looking to read it. but ykno what. im fine with that. #this is a party for me and the other poor sods that have read trimax & gone thru that emotional damage #im fine with it being a slower start. i think it's still growing faster than discacc did #it's not the shiny short n sweet drabble piece of Sentido. im looking to emotionally flay people alive. #and that takes time and investment. im dedicated to making this a proper and Good story. #all sorts of thoughts and plans. very exciting.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

call my name and i’ll come running ; satoru gojo

synopsis; satoru can be irritating, at times. but even if you push him away, he’ll always, always be there for you when you need him.

word count; 8.7k (this was supposed to b a short drabble but i was possessed by the devil halfway through)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, reader n toru have a fight, mild swearing (a couple fucks here n there), hurt/comfort, satoru has communication issues but he’s trying his best, depictions of stalking (reader gets followed by a random creep but satoru comes to the rescue dw), uhh implied thoughts of violence? (satoru wants to Maul said dude but doesn’t), literally just me being in love with satoru gojo for 8.7k words straight

a/n; no thoughts head empty only gojo running through the streets like a wild beast looking for u <33 im normal about him yeah.

“you’re so annoying sometimes, you know that?”

satoru smiles. the sentence isn’t one he’s unaccustomed to hearing.

usually, the words are soaked in an undeniable fondness, as they spill from your lips. rich with exasperated love. one that never fails to have the corners of satoru’s lips curling up, a mellow kind of joy blossoming in his chest.

but now, that fondness is nowhere to be found. 

you sound thoroughly exasperated, and a little bit fatigued. more than anything else, there’s a vague irritation behind the tilt of your voice, something almost cold. it makes all the difference in the world. 

and yet, despite that, a certain someone chooses to pay no heed to the bad omen.

“aw, c’mon. you know you love me, baby.”

satoru is grinning. lighthearted, awfully sweet. there’s a certain smugness to it, though, one he couldn’t wash away even if he was aware of it; you wouldn’t do so even if you could. that smugness is a part of him, one that you’d usually find endearing. 

but right now, it only seeks to further your frustration.

it was a stupid fight, truthfully. completely meaningless. satoru had forgotten to pick up after himself for, like, the fourth consecutive time, and so you grew annoyed. not by a lot, but enough that you felt the need to be firm when you reminded him not to make the same mistake over and over again.

but satoru had only grinned, in that self-satisfied fashion of his, and apologized in a way you couldn’t possibly call sincere. then he did what he usually does — promises to work on it. to not do it again. he never follows through, though.

but even that thought wasn’t anywhere near enough to make you truly angry. what really began to irk you was the fact that satoru wasn’t taking you seriously, even in the slightest.

that’s how he always is, when it comes to this kind of thing. and you try to be patient, you do. you try to be understanding. sometimes you even appreciate that he keeps the atmosphere light, but other times, you just can’t help but feel irritated by it.

and the current situation happens to fall into the latter category.

you don’t care if satoru leaves a candy wrapper or two out, every once in a while. of course you don’t. it’s a silly thing to argue about. but would it hurt for him to just listen to you? to try to put himself in your shoes, for once? it’s not about the wrappers, or the undone dishes. it’s about the way he treats you when you complain about it — like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t matter. even if it obviously does, to you.

so, gradually, the topic of your little argument began to shift, into a conversation about satoru. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to talk about the things that bother you in a serious fashion. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to take you seriously.

and he just keeps proving your point, with every word that falls from his lips.

at this point, you’re genuinely beginning to feel a little angry. but satoru doesn’t see that as the warning sign it is — he just thinks it’s cute. he’s just been cooing at you, this whole time, despite your numerous attempts to actually explain how much his behavior affects you sometimes. it feels a bit like talking to a wall. satoru keeps on teasing you, even as you try to be firm about your point, and only brushes you off with empty promises to do better and more unneeded comments about how much he wants to hug you when you pout like that.

and you falter, a little. of course you do. you’re weak to satoru. weak to his words, that sweet voice of his, that pretty grin. but that only makes everything worse, because if you let yourself look even a little bit flustered at his comments, he sees that as his cue to continue.

you don’t even know if he’s doing it on purpose, at this point. is he doing it because he knows it’ll annoy you, or does he genuinely not understand that you’re upset? you’d like to think that there’s no malicious intent behind it, but can’t he see how troubled you are? you don’t get it. you don’t get him, and that frustrates you most of all. satoru can be so goddamn convoluted, sometimes.

so you simply can’t help but feel annoyed. angry, even. how long have you been arguing for, at this point? you’re not sure. but you feel the frustration inside of you grow, as the minutes tick by, into something you know will eventually explode.

a sigh falls from your lips, deep and exasperated. a little bit exhausted. “i’m serious, satoru. you’re not even listening.”

“i am!” he protests, stubbornly. childishly. “you just look so cute when you’re all mad. not my fault you’re so distracting.”

satoru smiles, voice sugar sweet, but all you can do is frown. does he really think it’s cute that you’re upset? the thought makes you somewhat sad. but you can’t show that, can’t let that part of you win — you don’t even want to think about the possibility of you crying, because of this. yeah, no way in hell. 

so instead, you channel it into anger. as the blood inside your veins comes to a boiling point, you dig your nails into the skin of your palms, gnawing at your bottom lip and shifting from one foot to another.

”satoru, i’m —” another sigh, sharp and vexed like the blade of a knife. ”i’m trying to have a serious conversation, here. can’t you see that i’m upset?”

satoru takes a moment to look at you, from behind the black glass of his shades.

he can. of course he can see that. you’re frowning, and there’s a crease between your brows, and you keep huffing and sighing every three seconds — you’re obviously, undoubtedly upset. and satoru wants to take you seriously, he does. it’s just that the part of his brain that only ever wants to coddle and tease you keeps persuading him not to.

he’s not lying, either; you do look cute. almost too cute to take seriously, when you’re pouting so sweetly, a little red in the face from all the frustration bubbling inside your chest. you look so small, glaring up at him like an angry puppy. 

satoru can’t help but smile. it’d be impossible not to.

and he will listen to you, will take you seriously. he knows you’re angry, knows you’re upset, and he intends to deal with that properly. but he doesn’t need to do it right now.

just a little more teasing, before he has to stop beating around the bush. satoru dreads it, a little bit, dreads having to genuinely be serious, be open and apologetic. it always feels so strange, so discomforting. 

all that stuff can wait until later. for now, he just wants to see you blush a little more, huff and puff at his limitless affection, that he knows you love deep down. where’s the harm?

(and therein lies the problem. satoru is observant, and typically good at seeing the line that he shouldn’t cross when it comes to you. but there are times when he slips up, times when he doesn’t realize that his words have begun to sting. times when the line becomes blurry, because he knows some part of you enjoys the way he babies you, and sometimes it blinds him to the part of you that doesn’t.)

satoru is smiling. it’s the same as always — big, bright, glazed over with honey-sweet adoration. smug and teasing. it’s such a satoru-like smile that it makes your breath hitch, sometimes, makes your heart race with wonder. but now all it does is annoy you. everything you love about satoru is annoying you, right now. 

in your eyes, that pretty smile of his seems almost taunting. like he’s trying to pick a fight with you, trying to make you even more upset. you don’t want to blow up over something like this, you really really don’t — but for some reason, you feel dangerously close to. it’s not like you at all.

you bore into his eyes with a cold glare, even though you can’t exactly see them with his shades in the way. posture straight and rigid as you try to make yourself look bigger. you must look at least a little bit menacing, like this. right?

“i’m seriously angry with you,” you say, hoping your voice sounds as austere to his ears as it does to yours. “don’t you get that?”

satoru coos, unable to hold the sound back. he doesn’t notice the flicker of hurt in your eyes, only focusing on how the sunset rays frame your figure, kissing your skin with sun-soaked fervor. you look so pretty. and that angry look on your face is too tantalizing not to tease.

“aww,” he croons, inching closer to you. there’s a teasing glint in his eyes that you can’t see, unmistakably fond. “is my little baby that upset?”

you blink. his voice sounds even more sugar-sweet now, obviously exaggerated. there’s amusement there, too — like this is just one big joke to him. you think he must be doing it to belittle you, to embarrass you. speaking to you like you’re some kind of grumpy toddler, and not a grown adult trying to have a serious conversation with their partner. your blood boils, boils, boils.

— and so the cup overflows.

“oh, go fuck yourself.”

it’s almost in a hiss that the words fall from your lips, cold and harsh; they leave the confines of your throat before you have a chance to reconsider them, sudden and sickeningly heavy. crude, too. you’d never be so crass with him under normal circumstances.

but you’re overwhelmed, thoroughly and completely, and satoru is being particularly infuriating. you genuinely feel hurt by the way he’s disregarding your feelings, and that realization stings more than anything. 

so you can’t help but say the words, louder than you meant to, before turning on your heel swiftly and walking out of the room. 

you don’t even have time to register what you’re doing, legs moving on their own before your mind can catch up. brisk and heavy steps carry you to the door, all while you furiously attempt to blink away the tears of frustration that begin to form in your eyes.

it only takes a second for you to grab your jacket — then you’re out.

satoru hears the front door close, echoing off the walls of your apartment. you don’t quite slam it shut, but you close it with more force than usual, and he can’t help but inwardly wince.

a moment passes. 

then, he flops down on the couch, lanky arms and legs dangling uncomfortably off the edges. the groan that slips from his lips is muffled by the soft cushion as he burrows his face into it, while replaying your interaction inside his mind.

satoru can’t help but feel uncomfortable, with this conclusion. a little bit irked. a vague something rests inside his chest, something he doesn’t quite want to admit to feeling. it makes him feel a little bit sick.

(”oh, go fuck yourself.”)

he can’t recall you ever raising your voice at him like that. when it comes to him, you’re usually so patient; soft, understanding, gentle. for you to have snapped in such a way — to have stormed out of the apartment in your anger — he must have pushed you pretty far.

satoru sighs.

he really pissed you off, huh?

(he can never quite seem to get this right, can he?)

it was never his intention to make you genuinely mad. he just lost sight of the line, for a second. that’s all.

and maybe he was also trying to avoid the issue, trying to avoid actually arguing with you. because he hates it. he hates it more than anything. satoru would much rather see you smile and blush than act all serious and sad. 

he just wanted to make you laugh.

was it insensitive? yeah, probably. he just can’t help but fuck this up, it seems. now he’s gone and made you angry — and as much as the sight would usually thrill him, as cute as you look when you’re irritated, a pit of anxiety settles in his gut. everything just feels wrong.

more than anything, satoru feels restless. because, right now, there’s nothing he can do. he can’t chase after you, even if just to apologize — that’d make you even angrier.

he knows he needs to give you space. you were obviously overwhelmed; some fresh air will do you good.

it irks him, though. satoru wants to fix it. he always wants to fix everything, before it even breaks. and even now, all his mind can do is spin in circles, wondering how he could possibly cheer you up.

he’ll just have to apologize, when you get back. and hope you forgive him. maybe he can get you something sweet to munch on, or a bouquet of flowers. would that make everything okay again?

satoru doesn’t know. so he just scratches his head, and tries his damndest not to think of how defeated you looked before leaving.

your steps are heavy, dragging you forward, leading you somewhere you have no knowledge of. it’s chilly out, and the sun is already setting.

everything in the world feels so wrong. like it’s tilted slightly to the left, like the earth stopped spinning around its axis. like everything suddenly lost its saturation. 

you just needed to get away from him, for a while. away from that smug smile, that patronizing tilt of his voice. you couldn’t even stand to be in the same apartment as him. it’s not often you feel that way, not often at all. 

and it only increases your growing frustration. 

you are beginning to calm down, though — you know you are. the crisp evening air and the pleasant mingle of people soothes your muddled senses, smoothing down the crease of your brow and the ache in your chest.

a heavy discomfort, and a growing guilt. that’s all you can feel, as the anger slowly seeps out of you, turning into vapour with every exhale of your breath.

you hate arguing with satoru. you hate it more than anything. the guilt clawing at your chest barely leaves any room for anger — you almost yelled at him. just the thought of doing that to satoru makes you want to cry.

because you love him, at the end of the day, even when he’s being absolutely insufferable. he’s a sweetheart, your sweet boy, always trying to lighten the mood and make you smile. maybe you should have been a bit more understanding; you know satoru’s bad at this stuff, bad with emotions and vulnerability. and deep down, you know he’d never hurt you, not on purpose.

he probably just didn’t realize that you were genuinely upset. it’s a mistake that anyone could make.

but it just makes you feel so frustrated. like he’s not even looking at you. always hiding behind those shades, never opening up. never letting you see him wear anything but a smile. you want him to take it slow, open up to you at his own pace, but that doesn’t make the wait sting any less.

it’s not like you were asking for a lot. first, you simply asked him to pick up after himself. the way you do, the way anyone does. then, you simply asked him to treat you with respect.

a sudden pang of bitterness runs through your chest. sure, you could’ve handled it all better — but he could have, too.

every step you take hits the pavement with an irritated kind of decision. whatever. whatever. for now, you don’t want to think about it — all you want is to walk around and take in the sights, enjoy the peace and quiet.

so that’s exactly what you do.

before you know it, the sun has set, and the moon has risen — shining down and painting the streets in a mesmerizing blue, ephemeral and tranquil. it’s enough to give you some peace of mind, as you lurk around familiar streets, soaking in all the open space. so different from that suffocating apartment, and the man inside it, with that shit-eating grin and those breathtaking eyes.

(he’s called you, a couple times. you haven’t been gone for long — an hour or so, you think, maybe two. some part of you wanted to answer, just to hear his voice through the phone, but the part of you that’s still awfully irritated shut that down immediately. so, stubbornly, you just let it ring.)

the streets are empty, and the sky is dark. the light of all the lampposts illuminate your way, along with the soft flicker of the moon and stars. an endless galaxy stretches out before your eyes, little pale dots of stardust shining like jewels.

an ever-lasting, never-changing sky, that continues on for infinity. limitless. all the space you could possibly want, and then some.

for a moment, you can only look at the glittering stars in wonder, soaking in the feeling of absolute solitude. 

— it doesn’t last, though.

“you alone?”

a sudden voice calls out from behind you. close, discerningly so, enough to make you flinch. you curse yourself for not noticing anything sooner, caught up in looking at the starry sky, in angling your phone to take a picture of it.

hesitantly, you turn your gaze towards the sound — wincing under your breath when you see the man a couple steps away from you. he looks a little crazed, you think, shifting from foot to foot and hunching over. 

oh fuck no.

great, just what you needed. that’s just your luck, isn’t it? your brain can only spin in circles, trying to get your body to react, to run. to do literally anything except just stand there like a deer caught in headlights.

in your nervosity, all you manage is a painfully awkward laugh, as you stutter out a halfhearted response.

“oh — no, i’m just waiting for my boyfriend!” you smile, unconvincingly. your face must be soaked in unease. whatever he wants with you, it can’t be anything good.

at least you said that one word clearly — boyfriend. you can only hope it’s enough to scare him away.

but the man only shifts a little more, emitting a gruff kind of hum, not saying anything else. your spine tingles with apprehension. every cell in your body wants you to leave. he seems a little intoxicated, you think, and the thought only stirs the anxious feeling in your chest further.

god. why does this have to happen to you? why now?

thankfully, you’ve got your phone in hand. as your mind scrambles for solutions, your fingers tap at the screen, urgently scrolling through your contacts. in such a frightened state, your acting must be positively awful, but you make a vague attempt. not like you’re getting any oscars for this, either way.

“sorry — he’s calling me now!” you stammer out, taking a step away from the man. he doesn’t make a move to follow you, so you take your chances and press your phone to your ear, feet carrying you forward with haste.

in your fear, you don’t think twice about calling satoru — but you can’t help but internally wince at the decision, as the anxious patter of your own heart resounds in your ears.

how are you supposed to talk to him, exactly? what are you supposed to say? hey, i know i just told you to go fuck yourself, but will you hear me out? i need your help. 

and you do. you do need his help. all you want is for him to swoop in, to take you in his arms, your knight in shining armor.

satoru’s said it to you, before — that if you need anything, anything at all, you can come to him. that you can always, always lean on him, without exception. 

you know that he likes helping you. likes it when you open up to him, when you put your trust in him. when you aren’t afraid to ask for his help.

so despite everything, you hold your phone to your ear, walking away with brisk steps and praying that he’s not petty enough to ignore your call like you did to his.

back home, satoru is still resting on the couch, tapping his feet and trying to distract himself. 

he’s a little anxious. it’s dark out, and you’re not answering any of his calls. when you’re out of sight, like this, he can’t help but feel a little helpless — worried about everything that could happen to you. but it’s not like he can force you to pick up. 

you’re probably at a friend’s house, or something. telling them all about what an asshole your boyfriend is. as much as the thought stings, satoru hopes it’s true; it’s all he can comfort himself with. anything is fine as long as you aren’t out walking alone, in the cold, in the dark.

entirely caught up in his spiralling thoughts, satoru almost flinches when the phone rings. laying on the table in front of him, just within arm’s reach. it only takes a second for him to react as his gaze flits to the bright screen, and he sees the contact name, the many heart emojis littering it.

with a start, satoru jumps up. his back straightens out, and his hand flies to grab the phone — he’d feel embarrassed at his own eagerness, but right now he just can’t help it. even under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn’t let the phone ring more than twice, always giddy to hear your voice whenever possible. 

this time, however, he does falter slightly.

he takes a split second to simply stare at the phone in his hand, at the affectionate contact name. what is he supposed to say to you, exactly? how is he supposed to act?

satoru doesn’t know, but as if afraid that you’ll change your mind and stop the call, yourself, he opts to simply answer. he’ll just have to figure out what to say on the fly.

(unfortunately, satoru’s instinctual response to anything is either smugness or playfulness.)

“well, well. look who finally decided to pick up.”

you’re the one who called him, not the other way around — but satoru can’t be bothered with small details like that right now. he only hopes you don’t notice the faint nervosity in his voice, the stiffness as he tries to sound unbothered.

you don’t notice anything at all, mind far too muddled, too clouded by fear. all you can do is take a deep breath, desperately trying to grasp control over your wavering voice.

“— satoru?” you call out, voice meek and frail. the man in question notices it immediately, sitting up a little straighter, but before he can say anything you continue. “i’m sorry, i just — are — are you still at home?”

there’s an anxious tilt to your voice, one that’d be impossible for satoru to miss. your words are a little breathy, spoken in a fast tempo, and he feels a sudden dread crawl up his spine.

something is wrong, his senses alert him.

“yeah,” he hums, trying to hide the turmoil in his own voice. “why? is everything okay?”

the line is quiet, for a second. “it’s just —“ an exhale, as you once again attempt to steer your voice in a less nervous direction. “just… some creepy guy tried to talk to me. i told him i was waiting for my boyfriend and now i’m walking away from him but he’s still following me.” another exhale, as you worriedly sneak a glance over your shoulder. ”i just — i don’t know what to —”

“where are you?”

satoru cuts you off, voice eerily serious. his gaze turned cold the moment he heard creepy guy, legs moving him towards the coat rack by the front door as if on autopilot. 

he’s already left the apartment by the time you answer, looking around you meekly.

“i… don’t know,” you sigh. “i’m not far. i walked past that one crêpe stand by the park but then i, like… continued up that street? and now i don’t really know where i’m going.”

you continue, a little exasperated as your gaze flits around the dark street. attempting to recall your steps, a difficult task with how on edge you feel. “i’ll try to look for a sign, or something,” you gulp. “… i’m sorry. i just wanted to get away from him.”

satoru’s voice is comforting, when he speaks, eager to console you. grounding and soft. “hey, it’s okay. i’m heading there now, alright?” he smiles, hoping you’ll hear it in his voice. “i’ll be there before you know it.”

you do hear it, and his words ease a little of the anxiety in your chest, despite your fear. “okay.” 

the line grows quiet, again, and your brows furrow in worry. “can — can i keep talking to you?” you ask, uncertain. a little pitiful. ”please?”

“of course,” satoru answers, instantaneous. he’s already making his way towards the crêpe stand with decision in his steps, mentally scanning the area ahead. despite his own anxiety at the situation, he attempts to sound as secure as he can possibly manage, desperate to soothe the worry in your voice.

“try to relax for me, okay? nobody’s gonna hurt you. not while i’m here.”

his words are absolute, as he consoles you. he sounds so sure of himself, so much that you can’t help but believe in his words. so you nod, emitting a weak hum when you remember he can’t see you.

“can you tell me what you see, baby?”

“uhh…” you look around, blindly, trying to find some sort of meaningful hint around you. “there’s like… some toy shop?” 

satoru only hums. “can you check your location on your phone?” 

you blink. 

of course. why on earth didn’t that cross your mind before? 

“oh — yeah — fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i didn’t —“ you sigh, heavy. “hold on.”

following satoru’s instructions swiftly, your gaze scans over the screen. he waits, patiently, already heading past the park and up ahead. as soon as you succeed in finding the name of the street, you echo it to him.

satoru sighs, a little relieved. “okay,” he hums. “i’m not that far away. i’ll be there soon.” he only hopes his words can soothe your fear, even a little. “is he still following you?”

you glance behind you, and meet the gaze of the stranger. just like you were afraid of, he’s still following you — if anything, he seems to have gotten a little closer. with a jolt, your heartbeat picks up.

“yeah,” you gulp. 

satoru’s chest tightens. he emits a low hum. “just hold on. i’ll hurry.”

focusing only on the tilt of satoru’s voice, you try to calm your breathing. you just want to see him. the thought of doing so is the only thing keeping your trembling ribcage intact, at this point. 

you swallow a shaky breath.

“thanks, toru.”

a sudden pang of ache sprouts in satoru’s chest, like thorny vines curling around his ribcage. his heart hurts. you sound so scared, so very small. 

this is all his fault, he thinks. all of it. he got too careless; none of this would’ve happened if he had only been more considerate. if he had just stopped you from leaving and apologized, or hadn’t upset you in the first place. then he wouldn’t have to hear that scared little voice, wouldn’t have to imagine your body shaking like a leaf in the cold night. so far away from him. 

but satoru can’t beat himself up over it, not yet. there’ll be more than enough time for that later. for now, he needs to get to you — that’s the only thing on his mind.

so he lets his feet carry him forward, running towards your location with bated breath. he’s sure you can hear it, through the phone, even though he tries to contain it.

the sound consoles you, if anything. it reminds you that satoru is there, that he’s on his way. that there’s no need to be scared. 

but you can’t help but freak out, a little, when you hear the man call out from behind you.

“hey!” he slurs, stumbling towards you with unsteady steps. his voice is loud, angry, and it sends your mind reeling into panic mode.

a flinch overtakes your body, before you stumble forward, walking even faster than before. you’re almost running now, breath hitching as you gulp. satoru hears it all — your panic, the echo of the man. his own tempo picks up.

“baby, calm down, okay?” he consoles you, voice concerned and honey-sweet. “just keep walking. i’m almost there.”

“sorry —“ you squeak out, between flurry breaths. breathing uneven, laboured and anxious. but you try your best to calm down. “‘s just scary.”

it almost feels physical, the way it irks him. satoru wants to pull you close, more than anything, but he can’t. and that just makes the calamity inside his chest grow, clawing at his ribcage as if trying to escape, to go to your side. 

(he never, ever wants to hear that kind of fear in your voice again.)

“i know,” he soothes. “you’re doing good, honey. listen — he’s not gonna touch you. i won’t let him. you have nothing to be scared of.”

you nod, even as you exhale a shaky breath. ”i know.” 

and you do. you know there’s a truth, to satoru’s words, one that’s never failed you before.

because satoru is your safe space, at the end of the day — he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and sometimes he’s bad with emotions. but he tries, you know he does. and, more than anything else, you know that he’ll always, always be there when you need him. he’ll always be there to protect you. 

and a part of you is sure that everything will be okay, as long as he’s around.

(it’s easy to forget how trustworthy satoru really is, how much he cares. how dependable he is. and how serious he can get, when he truly needs to be, despite his childishness. it’s moments like these that remind you of that.)

but it’s still scary, at the end of the day. you can’t help but feel uncomfortable, a little lost in the world. because you and satoru just fought, you just told him to go fuck himself, and yet here he is. running to your side, in the middle of the night, because you’re scared and alone and you need him.

the man continues to shout, behind you, muttering curses you can’t quite make out. you look over your shoulder nervously, steps hurried.

and satoru runs like a man possessed, through the moonlit streets, gaze scanning the area like a wild beast. his most visceral instinct is screaming at him, tugging at his flesh and bones, desperate to protect you. to comfort you. to wash all your worries away. 

as he makes a sharp turn, he momentarily stops the movement, halting to look around. he thinks he must look a little crazed, with the moonlight illuminating his eyes, but he couldn’t care less.

especially not when his gaze lands on a certain person, further down the street — small and alone.

your eyes meet his.

with the darkness of the street, it’s hard to make anything out, but the light of the lamppost helps. though even without it, satoru’s sure he’d know it was you, just from the sensation that unfurls in his chest as his gaze lands on your figure. 

an audible sigh of immense relief falls from his lips, and his tense shoulders relax, eyes softening just a tad. he hears a similar noise coming from the phone in his grasp, and he assumes that means you recognize him too. not bothering to end the call, he puts it in his pocket, walking over to you with brisk steps. 

you stumble towards him, yourself, the worried crease between your brows now smoothed away. the closer he gets, the faster you move, until you can see the blue of his eyes. two pocket-sized moons.

satoru swoops you in for a hug before either of you can say anything.

he cradles you close, awfully close, so close you can hear his heavy breathing against your ear. it tickles your neck, along with his soft hair, and you shiver. his fragrance envelops your senses, a blend between fresh laundry, strawberries and some expensive cologne. your favorite scent in the world. 

and suddenly, the world is devoid of danger. nothing can get to you while satoru’s there. all that exists is you, and him, and the soft flicker of the moon.

satoru squeezes you tightly, ensuring himself over and over again that you’re safe. he might be squeezing you a little too tight, but he can’t bring himself to think about that just yet.

finally, that growing calamity inside his chest is satiated. winding down at the feeling of you pressed up against him, the indisputable proof that you’re okay. with you in his arms, satoru feels like everything is alright, again.

the fear inside his chest, so foreign it leaves him shaken to the very core, finally begins to dissipate too. he doesn’t think there’s anything that makes him feel quite as hopeless as the thought of not being there for you when you need him. he never wants to feel that fear again. it’s suffocating. it crushes his lungs.

all he can do is hold you close, his big palm smoothing down your hair, the back of your head, your spine. warm and comforting. keeping you steady against him. he can feel your heartbeat, rapid and anxious, so fast that his heart aches. satoru is eager to soothe you, eager to make it go away.

”i’m here, baby,” he breathes, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head. ”you’re safe now.”

the words are spoken softly, right by your ear, and you exhale a shaky breath. you’re bundling up his clothing with your fists, anchoring yourself to him. after a little while, you let go, opting to wrap your arms around his midriff instead. nuzzling into his broad chest, you try to blink away your tears and contain your sniffles.

you nod against him, and satoru kisses the crown of your head.

and, finally, his gaze strays. it falls farther down the street, until it lands on a certain man — shifting from one foot to another. watching you both in silence.

the calamity inside his chest rouses from its slumber, once more.

satoru makes sure to keep his hands on you, still rubbing your back with one steady palm cradling the back of your head. keeping your face hidden in his chest, safe and secure.

then he raises his head, back straight, full height on display as his eyes meet the stranger’s. he can tell they do, even with the distance, the darkness of the street.

and satoru knows he looks menacing. he knows the light of the lamppost illuminates his figure perfectly, framing his tall stature and broad shoulders. and he knows the moonlight caressing his skin illuminates his face, his cold eyes — blue and uncanny, glowing even brighter than the moon. staring daggers into the man’s soul. if looks could kill, there wouldn’t even be any remains left to find.

the man stiffens, visibly, and satoru delights in it. he doesn’t leave, though, and for a second satoru wonders if he’s really intoxicated enough to come closer — 

but, sure enough, all he does is stagger a little. then he walks away, grumbling under his breath, hands in his pockets.

and satoru isn’t satisfied, with this conclusion. not in the slightest. he wants to run up to the man, wants to hold him up by the throat, wants to tell him off. because he has the nerve to terrorize someone like that, stalk them with intentions he knows can’t be anything but revolting. the nerve to do that to you, of all the people in the world —

satoru doesn’t know if he’s hated anyone quite as much. 

and a part of him wants to make him cower. make him fear for his life, just to make sure he never does anything like this again. leave him with a fear so great it’ll linger for as long as he’s alive.

(and a more animalistic side of satoru, one he doesn’t want to acknowledge, wants to do things that are much, much worse.)

— but you come first. without question, and without exception. he refuses to leave you alone, and refuses to make you look at the man for even a second more. 

so he’ll focus on you, entirely.

he can tell you’re still shaken up, heartbeat pulsating against him, little flutters of life prickling his skin. there’s a desperation in the way you hug his waist, like he could disappear at any moment. like he’ll slip away if you don’t keep him close. the sight tugs at satoru’s heartstrings. 

his first priority is to soothe you, always and forever. so that’s exactly what he does.

satoru smiles. it’s small, in the wake of the situation, but awfully sincere. fingers reaching down to trace over your jaw, he gently urges you to look at him; when you do so, hesitant, he cups your cheek with his palm.

your teary eyes feel like daggers to his heart, an unmistakable proof of his failure. his failure to protect you, to keep you safe and happy. but at the same time, he’s glad, from the bottom of his heart — that you’d let him see you like this. even after everything.

you look very meek, blinking the tears away as you look into his eyes. they’re bright, and comforting. you wonder if he left the shades at home, if he rushed over here so hurriedly that he didn’t think to bring them with him. you’re happy, in any case — the effect they have on you is undeniable. 

you can’t bring yourself to look away, consoled by the flickers of white inside his irises, like fluffy clouds in the blue sky. ever-lasting, never-changing.

satoru tilts his head, smile sweet and understanding. ”that was scary, hm?” 

his voice is tender, somehow so mature. like he’s some older, wiser being, comforting a scared child. it’s so soothing, so very grounding.

squeezing your eyes shut, you can only bring yourself to nod, as you nuzzle back into his chest.

”you’re okay now, honey,” satoru coos, smoothing down your back as you sniffle. an immense softness seeps through his whisper. ”i’ll always be here to protect you.”

there’s a truth to the statement, heavy and pious. like an oath, a pledge, something for you to believe in unquestioningly. you allow yourself to soak in the words, knowing them to be true.

you’re safe, now. there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. satoru’s here, and he’s hugging you, pressing kisses against your shoulder.

but you just can’t stop crying.

when you speak up, your voice is weak, barely above a whisper. close to breaking apart at the seams. too tired after everything to resist the guilt inside your veins, you sniffle, and part your lips.

”i’m sorry i yelled at you.”

satoru stills.

then, his gaze softens, considerably. he hears himself coo, softly, palm smoothing down the back of your head. 

his sweet angel. apologizing to him, when he’s the one who started this whole mess. when you’re still so shaken up. because he let you leave the house angry, because he made you angry in the first place. because he didn’t see how important the discussion was to you.

(“you’re not even listening.”)

yeah. he wasn’t. he didn’t really want to.

an acute sense of shame. an intense guilt. that’s what he’s been trying to push down, all this time. that’s the unnamed something. 

it’s hard for him. to be as sincere as you, as open with his feelings and emotions. as mature. because even in a situation like this, you can swallow your pride and frustration, and apologize. even when you aren’t in the wrong. you’re always the bigger person, always the one to give in first, because he’s too stubborn to do so himself.

next time, satoru pledges, he won’t let you. next time he’ll be the one to swallow his pride.

because, yes, being vulnerable and admitting that he was in the wrong makes him feel a little like he’s being skewered alive — but you’re important to him. he loves you. and he wants you to know how much he trusts you, how special you truly are. 

if he can show you that, by being a little sincere, a little serious, then any discomfort he feels in the process is a small price to pay.

satoru’s lips meet the crown of your head, as he encircles your smaller frame, arms reaching around your neck to pull you close. he rests his jaw lightly on the top of your head, breathing in your scent. ”you have nothing to apologize for, baby.”

a pause lingers between the words he’s already said and the ones he yearns to say, but can’t seem to pull out from within his throat. it takes effort, to squeeze them out; but every time he replays your own apology in his mind, it gets a little easier. he squeezes you lightly before opening his mouth, as if to give him strenght.

“i’m sorry.”

you blink. 

for once, satoru sounds sincere when he apologizes — almost painfully so. bordering on something you think may be nervosity. you try to look up, to catch a glimpse of his expression, but he keeps you hidden in the crook of his neck.

”i was being immature,” he continues, sighing. you don’t know if you’ve ever heard satoru sound so uncomfortable. ”you know how bad i am with this stuff. but i never want to — you know.” 

he makes a gesture with one of his hands, as if that will say the words for him.

“— i didn’t mean to upset you. honestly.” satoru inhales the cold air, in hopes it’ll make him more honest. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

you listen. intently, not missing a word, not a single tilt of his voice. it all sounds so genuine, almost foreign on his tongue. satoru seems to be trying to find the right words, grumbling a little under his breath. 

he’s cute, like this. kind of awkward, but that only makes him cuter. you nuzzle closer to him, comforted by his very existence.

”… i’ll work on it,” he whispers, at last. “i’ll listen to you. i promise. i really, really will.” 

you think satoru’s voice wavers, just a little, when he says his final piece. 

“so please don’t cry.”

this time, satoru doesn’t stop you when you attempt to lift your gaze, loosening his arms around you and raising his head from where it rests on top of yours. 

your eyes meet. satoru is smiling, weakly. he tilts his head, looking at you with something you could only ever describe as love.

”okay?”

such a lovely smile. so painfully genuine. his eyes are on full display, shining in the dark of the night, like splotches of moonlight. like someone stole the moon down to earth, and carved out little pieces to put in his irises. an ethereal hue.

he’s so gorgeous. hair just a tad messy, tousled from all the running he did to get here. cheeks a little red from the cold. when he smiles, his eyes crinkle. but he looks almost pained. 

(he was so, so worried.)

blinking away the tears clinging to your lashes, you simply stare, entirely mesmerized by the sight. satoru’s thumb goes to wipe at your glassy eyes, smoothing away the drops that threaten to fall. you want to engrave his expression into your memory, so you can never forget it. but it’s just a little too much.

so you hide in his chest, once more. the word that falls from your lips is tiny. “okay.”

satoru smiles, kissing the top of your head with a relieved exhale. bathing in your presence, still reeling from his show of vulnerability. he feels a little like he just cut himself open, let you peek inside his ribcage. the night air stings his skin. 

but you’re so warm, hugging him tightly, breathing and heartbeat finally relaxed. 

(he doesn’t mind it, not if it’s you — having you look inside his chest. if you asked, he’d let you build a shelter there. right between his fourth and fifth ribs.)

now that the words are out of his throat, they don’t burn at all. satoru feels a little silly, for being so scared to say them out loud. he knows you’d never use them against him.

all you do is snuggle closer, as if silently conveying your forgiveness.

you stand there for just a little while longer, wallowing in the tender atmosphere. finally, satoru makes a move to leave, and you begin to walk back home.

“sure you’re okay now, baby?”

you nod, exhaling a flurry breath. it turns into vapour in the cold of the air, drifting up and dissipating in the expanding starry sky. “yeah. thanks for coming so quickly.”

“of course,” satoru only says, choking back a yawn. 

your hands are intertwined, and he’s halfheartedly swinging them back and forth. it soothes your anxiety, and satoru’s protective instincts. you know neither of you will slip away, like this.

you shiver a little, subconsciously inching closer to satoru to protect you from the harsh bite of the midnight breeze. he notices, giving you a glance and a tilt of his head. “you cold?” 

“just a little,” you mutter, smiling weakly as you look up at him. ”i’m fine.”

satoru huffs. did you really think he’d be dissuaded by such a weak retort? there’s no way he’s letting you walk around all cold and shivering. 

so you come to a standstill, as satoru begins to shrug off his coat. he refuses to let go of your hand for even a second, making the process slower than usual — your heart flutters a little, as his fingers curl around yours, delicately. 

when he finally gets it off him, he wastes no time in draping it over your shoulders. it’s big on you, warm and soft, shielding you from the chilly air. satoru can’t help but giggle sheepishly, as he always does at the sight — you look so cute. 

“c’mon. let’s go home,” he grins, ruffling your hair teasingly.

satoru doesn’t feel cold, not in the slightest, as he holds your hand tightly. just your presence is enough to warm his bones to the marrow.

the silence between you is comforting and soothing, as you continue to walk. hand in hand, admiring the starry sky. you’re both too tired to speak — but satoru does so, anyway.

“i meant it, y’know.” satoru sounds sleepy, but earnest. ”i really will work on it.”

he doesn’t look at you when he says it, yawning softly and stretching his free arm. gaze fixed on the morning star. 

“oh.” you pause, squirming a little. sheepish. “thank you. i’m sorry that i — i mean.” a sigh. “i probably overreacted a little.”

satoru shakes his head, waving off your guilt. “nah. you’re right. i never want you to feel like i’m not taking you seriously.”

his gaze meets yours, tentatively. his eyes shine like wedding rings. “you mean a lot to me.”

the sincere words manifest themselves as a heavy pressure to your chest, closing in on your heart as if crushing it. it’s a pleasant sensation, though, overwhelming as it is. you’re a little scared that your knees will buckle if he keeps this up, but even if they do, you wouldn’t want him to stop — satoru’s love is terrifically overwhelming when there’s nothing to hide it, when it’s just love and nothing else.

but you’d never reject it. you’d let it crush you to death with a smile on your face.

all you can do is avert your gaze, afraid that you’ll fall into the blue sea of his eyes if you don’t. heavy thumps of blood resound in your ears as your heart beats, warmth spreading throughout your entire body.

“… you mean a lot to me, too.” you echo, holding his hand just a little tighter. warmth rises to your cheeks. “i just felt really frustrated, i guess. like you were looking down on me. i know you weren’t actually, though.”

satoru chews at the inside of his cheek, almost anxiously. “i know i can be a little much sometimes,” he says, tasting the words on his tongue. “and i appreciate you for putting up with that. i’m sorry i let it go too far. i’ll be more considerate.”

your heart stutters in your chest. you’re not sure what to say — the way he forms his words makes them feel so absolute. and you believe him.

“i’ll be more considerate, too,” you echo, looking down at the pavement. “i shouldn’t have blown up like that.” a pause. you mumble, quietly, a little embarrassed. “i shouldn’t have told you to go fuck yourself.”

satoru breathes out an amused huff, chuckling lightheartedly. his eyes carry a teasing glint when they meet yours. “i probably deserved that. no worries.”

“still,” you pout. satoru giggles. 

“we’ll both work on it, then,” he hums, tilting his head to find your gaze. “right?”

you blink. a small smile breaks out across your face. “right.”

satoru swings your hands back and forth, looking awfully happy with himself. you’re proud of him. really.

“oh —“ he says, breaking the sleepy silence once again. “and i’ll stop leaving wrappers around, too.”

this time, you’re the one who huffs out an amused breath. “thank you,” you grin, looking up at him. he thinks the sight is terribly precious.

a yawn leaves your lips, drowsiness sneaking its way into your bloodstream. you’re not sure if it’s due to the dark, or if you’re just a tad exhausted after all the arguing and panicking.

satoru notices, and gets an idea.

“you tired, baby?” he coos, eyes teasing but soft around the edges. “d’you want a piggyback ride?” 

when you give him a look, sleepy and kind of exasperated, satoru grins. you huff out an amused breath, just a tad embarrassed, but it only spurs him on.

so he crouches down, one knee meeting the pavement, letting your hand slip from his. you blink, tiredly, at the loss of contact. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s wearing that lovesick, smug little grin of his. 

”c’mon. your big, strong boyfriend’ll carry you.”

satoru’s feeling playful, you can tell. that’s usually a bad sign — but you can’t deny that you’re tired. and the prospect of getting carried all the way home is eerily tempting. 

your gaze falls on his back, and his broad shoulders. silently, you walk towards him, and wrap your arms around his neck. satoru holds you up by your thighs, and then stands up, jostling you a little; he does so without a hitch, and you’re reminded of how strong he really is. his grip is secure, and you trust him not to drop you, no matter what. 

you let out a content sigh, basking in the chill of the midnight air as you nuzzle your cheek against his soft hair. satoru chuckles.

”my sleepy lil’ sweetheart,” he coos, voice a tad raspy. ”lucky thing you’ve got me, huh?”

there’s a softness to his voice, despite the teasing tilt obscuring it. you can only huff out a breath, somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff, and cling to him tighter.

satoru will get you home safe. he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and he can be bad with emotions — but you can always, always trust him on that. 

so, with his coat shielding you from the chilly air, and his back warming you up as he carries you back to your apartment, you allow your eyes to flutter shut; enjoying the cozy feeling his presence brings you.

he’ll always be there when you need him.

#NOBODY LOOK AT MEEEEE i was having a gojo moment ok. #i just think hes. the perfect man. a silly goofy princess 98% of the time but when u need him to be there hes so comforting n secure. #i Need him. #also obsessed w the idea of gojo only calling u ’honey’ when hes being particularly sincere like that does smth to me man. #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Cramps

Summary: After going off of birth control, your periods have been a little more intense than you're used to. What starts out as a stressful morning between you and your husband, very quickly turns into a night that bodes very well for the both of you.

Paring: Husband Frankie Morales x Wife f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.4K on the dot (idk how we got here)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) PERIOD SEX, unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also they want a baby so), vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, again, you're on your period but our pussy eating king Fransisco Morales is an unstoppable force of nature), creampie, praise kink, big fat nasty breeding kink (it's who I am now, I won't apologize for it), Frankie's got a NASTY mouth, Frankie is the best husband, reader is on her period/has period symptoms, talks about family planning/not being on birth control, use of nicknames (hermosa, quierda, cariño), reader has no physical descriptions besides that she can wear Frankie's clothes

A/N: Well... This was gonna be a drabble... and then it was just gonna be fluff.... and then it was gonna be just some implied smut... and now, we're here??? Idk, don't ask me 🥴 self indulgent bc I just finished my period (and my periods have been whack since stopping bc) and what better way to heal myself than imagining what Frankie would be like taking care of you 🥺 also pls be nice to me this is my first time writing Frankie and I'm v nervous EEK I hope you enjoy!!! sorry Javi bby, I still love u

Bitchy. 

You wished you had a better word to describe your mood for today, but truth be told, bitchy was by far the most accurate. 

You and Frankie were hoping to start trying for your first baby soon, and had recently gone off your birth control after your doctor had told you it may take a few months for your body to regulate itself before you had a better chance at getting pregnant. Your doctor had also  warned you about many of the symptoms and side effects that stopping the pill could have, one of those being becoming more aware of your emotions and mood swings throughout your cycle. That, you were prepared for. 

What you were not prepared for, was to feel like an absolute psychopath in the days leading up to your period. 

 Your cycle had  been wonky the past few months as your body began to sort itself out- you had a feeling your period was probably about to start soon, but hadn’t thought much about it, considering your terrible and grouchy mood had overshadowed it. You had tried your best to pull yourself together the past few days, chalking up your grumpiness to long hours at work, or just being in a weird funk, but today, you woke up with a fire in your gut, ready to fight, and poor Frankie was about to be your punching bag. 

Sweet Frankie had been nothing short of a saint when it came to just about anything, but dealing with your newly heightened emotions right before your period really should have earned him some sort of Presidential Medal of Bravery, considering that your newly discovered highs and lows while PMS-ing were just as frightening as any time he had spent during his time in the military. 

Unfortunately for your husband, despite his best efforts, he had been on your nerves all morning. Not because he was really doing anything wrong, but because the little things that you were normally so good about letting go, or the patience you frequently had seemed to have flown out the window, and you were convinced that if Frankie even breathed the wrong way, you were going to absolutely lose it. 

So when unsuspecting Frankie decided to ask you a simple request about after work plans, there was very little he could have done to prepare for your response. 

“Morning, Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, emerging into the kitchen, his hand rustling through his untamed, sleepy brown curls as he let out a yawn and a stretch, the slight softness of his stomach peeking out between his t-shirt and pajama pants as he raised his arms above his head before settling behind you. He wrapped himself around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder as you finished putting the last of your lunch in your bag for work, trying to force yourself to focus on his sweet good morning, rather than the empty bowl of cereal in the sink that had greeted you first thing when you woke up, already starting you off on the wrong foot in your already irritable mood. 

“Morning, babe.” You grinned, forcing yourself to forgo the annoyance hidden behind your smile as you pecked a quick kiss on Frankie’s lips before gathering the rest of your things for the day scattered across the kitchen table. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to make you breakfast this morning because I was running late, but there’s extra scrambled eggs on the stove if you want them. I’m really sorry, Frankie, I gotta head out, have a good day, I’ll see you later okay?” You sighed, slinging your work bag over your shoulder, your hands full of your coffee mug, water bottle and keys, your cluttered grip and running behind schedule only adding to your frustration. 

“All good, Querida, no worries. Hey, actually baby, before you leave,” He paused, setting down the coffee mug he was just about ready to take a sip of, as if a little lightbulb had just gone off in his brain, “do you mind picking up stuff to make that really good buffalo chicken dip for Benny’s tonight? I told ‘em we’d bring like, an appetizer or something, if that’s okay.” 

For Frankie’s sake, you couldn’t have been more thankful that you had your back turned to him, because if looks could kill, Frankie Morales would have been a dead man. 

Every rational part of your brain knew that even though his request perhaps wasn’t the best timing, stopping by the store and making dip to bring to Benny’s for game night really wasn’t that much time or effort out of your day. But today, it seemed like every part of your brain but the rational one seemed to be functioning properly, and the raging, irrational part might as well have heard that Frankie wanted you to prepare and cook a Thanksgiving meal for 74 after you got home from work. 

You took a deep breath, your grip tightening around the items in your hand, praying with every bone in your body that someway or another, you had misheard your husband. 

“Tonight? As in, like, today, after I get home from work?” You questioned, trying to do your best to keep your tone from sounding too condescending. 

“Yeah, we don’t have to be there until 7, I just don’t think I’m gonna have time to since I probably won’t be outta work until 6:30.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another swig of his coffee 

Oh yeah, you’d heard him right.  

You let out a deep sigh, even more over dramatic than you had intended it to be, arms crossed over your chest and stark frown spread across your face as you turned towards Frankie. 

“Oh, perfect! That’s a great thing for me to find out about at 7:45 A.M. the day of, Frank!” Your voice oozed with ferocious sarcasm, now slamming your things back down onto the table to run your hands over your face. “No, that’s great, because there’s nothing I wanted to do more than to come home and make buffalo chicken dip instead of all the other shit I needed to do today before we left! Amazing! Thank you!” 

At this point, you were almost positive that if your eyes rolled any further, they’d be in the back of your skull, letting out another angry huff as you shook your head at Frankie, who was looking absolutely petrified as he leaned back against the counter, eyes darting to the floor to avoid yours, running his hand over the wispy curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie began to stammer, trying to defend himself from your wrath. 

“Hermosa, I’m- I’m sorry? I know it’s last minute, but you normally make it every time we go over there, I just- I figured it’d be easy for you to do? You can get something else, or I can try to stop by the store really quick on the way home, I just might-” 

“Nope, you want buffalo chicken dip, apparently I’m making buffalo chicken dip!” You groaned, collecting everything back into your hands, swearing under your breath as you tried to balance everything in your grip. “Jesus, okay, I need to go to work, just- I don’t even know. I gotta go, Frankie.” 

“Querida, I-” Frankie pleaded, beginning to trail behind you as you made your way to the front door. 

“Frankie, whatever, it’s fine! I’ll make the stupid dip! I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” You could feel the muscles in your jaw beginning to clench as you gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you to keep from exploding as you headed out of the house. Without even a kiss goodbye, you left Frankie in the doorway, watching you throw your things in the car and slam the door behind you as you drove down the driveway. 

But as soon as you were on the road and your house was out of view, you could instantly feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, slowly streaming down your cheeks as you began to sob, wondering why you had ruined the morning over as stupid as an appetizer, and even worse, that you had been a complete asshole to your husband about it. 

You couldn’t have been more thankful that work had been quiet today- no meetings on the schedule, and no one coming to bother you, leaving you plenty of peace and quiet to continue sulking and brooding in your unpleasant mood. 

Right around lunch time, you found yourself eating alone in your office, wishing your lunch was about ten times saltier and chocolatier than it was, crying to yourself as you watched a video of a dog meeting its new human sibling for the first time.

Just as you were beginning to pack up the rest of your lunch and start back up with your work, you felt a terrible twinge in your lower stomach that had you just about keeled over in pain, followed by that all too familiar feeling in your underwear. 

Frantically scrambling, you reached into your bag to pull out a tampon, hurriedly shuffling to the nearest bathroom, only to reveal the murder scene equivalent as you pulled down your pants. 

Your period had come.  

In that moment, as much as you were dreading the pain and misery that was the next few days to come, you couldn’t also help but feel a slight sense of relief, realizing that you were in fact, not actually a crazy person for the way you were feeling, you were just PMS-ing out of your mind. You couldn’t also help but feel absolutely awful for your unjustified freak out at your husband this morning, your heart sinking with guilt as you made your way back to your desk, immediately grabbing your phone to text Frankie. 

“Hey… I’m so sorry about this morning. What you were asking me to do wasn’t a big deal at all and I totally freaked out on you. My period just started, I think that’s why I’ve been such a bitch this morning. I’m sorry, Frankie, I love you.💕 ” 

It was almost instantly after you hit send that the reply bubble popped up in your message, your heart pounding anxiously waiting for your husband’s reply. 

“It’s okay, I kind of had a feeling 😉 babe, you weren’t being a bitch- I should have talked to you about it sooner. Shitty timing on my part. I’m sorry. I love you too, Querida.” 

Before you could even respond, another message popped up below his first. 

“Don’t worry about going to the store or making anything tonight. I already texted Benny and told him we couldn’t come. We can spend the night in, just the two of us. I can pick up takeout on the way home if you want and we can pick a movie to watch.” 

You could feel your frustrated facade beginning to melt away as your lips shifted from a pursed frown to a small smirk reading Frankie’s text, your thumbs quickly tapping across the screen of your phone to reply. 

“Thank you. You’re the best.” 

“Of course. Hopefully none of your co-workers ask you to make buffalo chicken dip before you leave 😘” 

“Oh shut up, meanie.” 

“Just kidding. Have a good rest of your day, love you. 💙

“Love you too. 🤍” 

Although the rest of your day was nowhere near enjoyable, given the fact you felt like you were getting punched repeatedly in the uterus and your personality resembled that of Oscar the Grouch, you knew that your night in with Frankie was your light at the end of the tunnel, and only needed to make it a few more hours before there was at least some sweet relief finally headed your way. 

Despite the constant stabbing pain in your lower stomach and back, your drive home from work had you in much better spirits than your drive there, now not only having an explanation as to why you had felt like such a mess, but also knowing the rest of your night was going to be dedicated to nothing but cuddling up in your comfiest clothes and snuggling up next to Frankie on the couch. 

As you pulled down your street, you were surprised to see Frankie’s truck already parked in the driveway, wondering what he was doing at home almost an hour earlier than he had mentioned he would be this morning. Gathering all of your things out of the back of your car, you quietly entered your home, confusion scrunching in your brow as you called out for your husband. 

“Frankie? Babe, are you home?” 

Before you could even kick off your shoes or hang up your coat, Frankie had already appeared at the front door to greet you, boyish grin spread across his face as he grabbed your things out of your hand, carefully placing them on your entryway table before engulfing you in a bear hug, his broad arms wrapping around your body and pulling you closer into his chest. 

You could feel all the muscles in your body instantly relax as your face rested against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, soaking in the familiar woody and savory scent of him, letting yourself be consumed by every ounce of his embrace. 

“Hi Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, pressing a soft kiss against your temple, running his hands up and down your back as you looked up at his sweet brown eyes shining down at you. 

“What are you doing home so early? I mean, not that I’m mad about it at all, I just thought you said that you had to work until 6:30 and-” 

“Told my boss I had to head out early for a family emergency.” Frankie smirked, laughing at you playfully rolling your eyes from his so-called excuse. 

“Last time I checked, your wife being a grump because she’s bleeding out of her cooch doesn’t classify as a family emergency, Fransisco.” You teased, giving him a little shove, making the two of you giggle in tandem. 

“Eh, close enough. I’m really sorry about this morning, querida. I was a dick for not talking to you about plans beforehand and just assuming you could go do it. It wasn’t fair of me.” 

“It’s okay, Frankie. What you were asking for wasn’t a big deal and I made it one because I’ve been a psycho all day. I’m sorry, too.” 

“Well,” Frankie paused, pressing another kiss onto your cheek, the width of his palm gently cradling your jaw as you stared up at him and his sympathetic smile, “number one, you are not a psycho. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must feel right now, so even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Number two,” he paused again, shifting his kiss from your cheek to your lips, his thumb delicately swiping across your skin, “you’re my wife and I love you more than anything, and if I can take a little time off to help make you feel better, it’s the least I can do. So, why don’t you go change into something comfortable, and when you get back down here, I will have pizza and ice cream, whatever movie you wanna watch, and a back rub ready for you, okay?”   

“Okay. Thank you, Frankie. God, you’re the best.” You grinned, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your mouth meet Frankie’s, the plush pout of his bottom lip swiping across yours, lingering just long enough to let the butterflies in your stomach begin to swirl, heat creeping through your cheeks in the tenderness of the moment.

“Of course, cariño. Te amo. Now go get changed.” With one last peck on his lips, you wiggled out of Frankie’s grasp to make your way up the stairs, grinning to see that your husband had already set out your favorite of his oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants, neatly folded on the bed for you to grab, quickly shuffling out of your uncomfortable work attire and exchanging it for Frankie’s clothes, your smile growing even wider at the feeling of perpetually being wrapped up in the essence of him. 

As you made your way back downstairs to meet Frankie, you found your heart skipping a beat again to see that the better part of the living room had been turned into a cozy sanctuary- lights dim and candles lit, both parts of your couch squished together, filled with every pillow and blanket you owned, and Frankie sitting in the middle, giant box of pizza, tub of ice cream and your handsome husband waiting for you. 

As if your emotions hadn’t already taken you on a wild roller coaster of a ride today, the adorable sight in front of you had you on the verge of tears again, wiping the wetness pooling in your eyes with the back of Frankie’s sweatshirt sleeve drooping off your arm before crawling into the blanket fort he had constructed for the two of you. 

“Frankie… You didn’t have to do this.” You sniffled, curling up next to Frankie as he draped a blanket over your lap and his arm over your shoulder, passing you a plate with 2 large pieces of pizza. 

“It’s the least I could do. I put on Hercules for us to watch, but if you wanna-” 

Before you could let him finish the rest of his sentence, you were running your hand across the scratchy stubble of his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours as you planted a kiss on his lips, feeling your smiles melt into one another's as your mouths met. “That sounds perfect. God, how’d I get so lucky?” 

“I could say the same thing, mi amor. You ready to start the movie?” 

“Only if you also pass me that tub of Ben and Jerry’s to go with my pizza.” 

“I think I can make that happen.” 

About half way through the movie, pizza and tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, your and Frankie’s bodies were tangled together in a sea of limbs and blankets, contently snuggled up with one another as Frankie’s fingers traced lazy circles on your back and shoulder as you laid against his chest. 

“You doin’ okay, querida? Need anything?” He cooed, his soft voice dancing in your ear. As if it weren’t enough that you had already been through the extreme highs and lows of almost every feeling under the sun today, the one you hadn’t been until this very moment was insatiably horny. While the mood swings you had mentally prepared yourself for with your new period symptoms, the constant other kind of ache between your legs you had not, and feeling the low rasp of Frankie’s words tickling your neck had been just enough to flip the switch to make you desperately needy. 

Letting your leg slide over Frankie’s lap, you pushed yourself up to straddle his hips, running your hands through the dark curls of his thick, brown hair, and down his broad chest, your fists bunching the worn fabric of his shirt in your hands as your mouths became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth. 

“I need- fuck- I need you, Frankie, please.” You pleaded between muffled moans, his tongue swiping in the parted space where your lips melted together as one, instinctively beginning to grind your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his sweatpants starting to grow beneath you. 

“Fuck- You sure, baby?” Frankie rasped, reactively bucking up into you, making you whine as his hands dug into your hips, guiding you as you swirled over the tented fabric of his bottom half rubbing against your covered core. 

“Please. Please, Frankie.” You were all but whimpering at this point, nodding frantically in approval as Frankie used the grasp on your hips to guide you onto your back, making you cock your head in confusion as Frankie scampered to the other side of the couch, back turned to you as he reached over the ledge, pulling out a thick, black towel with a smug grin on his face. “Did you seriously have a towel ready incase I wanted to have sex?” You snorted, shaking your head at Frankie, now crawling back to you, caging your body under his with an electric kiss as he shimmied the towel underneath you. 

“Maybe.” Frankie smirked, breaking from your kiss to let his lips trail down your body, his hands toying with the edge of his sweatshirt covering your body as he pushed it up your stomach and chest, helping you to shimmy it over your head, leaving your top half exposed. He gently palmed at your breasts, taking each pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking at the buds with his tongue before letting his kisses travel down the soft skin of your stomach and waistband of your sweatpants. The clothes on your bottom half soon joined your sweatshirt in a crumpled pile as Frankie nestled himself between your legs, gently nudging your hips to let your thighs part, revealing your pussy, slick and shiny for him with your juices. 

Even though Frankie would eat you out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a late night snack, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that he still found himself between your legs during your time of the month, considering any other man probably would have scoffed at just the thought of going down on you on your period. 

But, then again, Frankie Morales wasn’t just any other man. 

“Frankie, baby, you know you don’t- Oh fuck!” You gasped, cut off in surprise as Frankie’s tongue licked a long, broad strip across your cunt, making you shudder in pleasure as his head perked up, revealing the devilish grin spread between his cheeks watching your chest already heave in heavy, shaky breaths. 

“Oh I know I don’t have to, sweet girl. But I want to. Relax, baby, lemme take care of you.” 

Before you could agree, protest, or anything in between, Frankie was back between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs as they draped over his broad shoulders, digging his fingertips into the plush softness of your skin, dragging his tongue through your folds with the exact grace and precision that he knew made you fall apart in seconds. 

With flat, firm presses of his mouth latched against your clit, you could already feel your bottom half writhing under him, the perfect pressure of his tongue dancing around your sensitive bundle of nerves making you moan in pleasure. As your head dipped back, falling into the couch pillow behind you, your hand shot down, fingers burying themselves in the wild curls of Frankie’s hair, tugging at the thick ends for any sort of release as he worked relentlessly at your aching cunt. 

“Fuck, Frankie, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your praise only intensifying the way your husband drank every ounce of you up, two thick fingers now gently pressing inside your heat, curled deliciously as they rocked in and out of your entrance, nudging against your g-spot. 

Frankie had spent enough time worshiping the altar that was your pussy to know exactly how to make you crumble beneath him, leaving you chanting his name like a prayer as his lips latched around your clit, ferociously sucking as his fingers prodded at the soft, spongy spot that made your cunt begin to clench and heat in your belly pool. 

“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Frankie groaned, his words humming deep in his chest, placing chaste kisses on the inside of your thighs before drinking you up like a man starved, adding a third finger into your heat, the added fullness and stretch, combined with Frankie’s relentless pace, enough to have the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine now washing through every inch of your body. Your orgasm began to crash through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins, making you cry out Frankie’s name over and over. 

Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum again, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become, your pussy slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the Frankie and fucked you senseless with just his tongue. 

Wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand, Frankie tugged the sweatshirt covering his own body over his head, followed by his pants and boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock as it slapped against his stomach, his tip red and leaking with precum as his broad body loomed over yours, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as you whimpered his name. 

“Frankie, holy fuck.” 

“Such a good girl for me, querida. You still want me to fuck you, baby?” He mewled, the metallic and tangy taste of you still lingering on his tongue as he kissed you, laughing to himself at the way you found yourself frantically nodding your head to tell him yes before your words could. 

“Jesus Christ, yes. Fuck, please Frankie, I need to feel you.” 

Reaching down to stroke himself, he lined his cock up with your entrance, easily sliding into your heat and brushing his tip against your cervix, taking a moment to let you adjust to his fullness. The whine you let out as Frankie filled every inch of you was nothing short of ragged, digging your nails into the skin of his broad back as he ever so slowly began to thrust in and out of you, dragging his length against the slick of your cunt. 

“Oh fuck me- Fuck, you hear how wet you are for me, sweet girl? This what you needed, baby? To fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” Frankie groaned, letting his forehead rest against yours, his sweaty curls now starting to stick to his skin as he pounded into you, rutting his hips at a faster and faster pace. 

“It’s all for you, Frankie- Oh shit- only for you.” You moaned, your fingers wrapping around the width of his biceps, flexing deliciously as he hovered over you, sucking you in to a long, deep kiss, fucking into you over and over. 

Even with the years between you and the ring on your finger, the possessive part of Frankie’s brain would never get over how the primal and all consuming feeling of knowing you were his, forever, your words shooting straight to his dick as a low groan rumbled in his chest, silently cursing to himself through gritted teeth, watching you fall apart below him. 

Readjusting himself, Frankie sat back on his heels, hooking his arm under one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, the new angle stretching you out in a way that had you seeing stars as Frankie rammed into your g-spot and began thumbing at your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your first orgasm. You could already feel the heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, your leg beginning to tremble hoisted over Frankie’s shoulder as he dug into the meat of your thigh with a bruising intensity. 

Just like he would never get over the fact of knowing you were his, Frankie would never get over watching you begin to crumble under his touch, taking the time to memorize every twitch and twinge your body made as you came closer and closer to your end, always savoring in the moaning mess you’d become as you fell apart around him. 

“Fuck, Frankie, Fuck, oh my god- I’m close, baby.” You were all but rambling at this point, your brain barley stringing together coherent sentences as you felt your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, the lewd noises of your moans, wetness and skin slapping together as your hips met filling the room at a borderline pornagraphic rate. 

“Meirda, I’m not gonna last much longer, hermosa. Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Frankie growled through gritted teeth, his eyes locking on yours and telling him everything he needed to know without you saying a word. 

“Inside. Fuck, please Frankie, I want you to cum inside me.” 

Your confirmation was all it took to flip the switch in Frankie that sent him absolutely feral, the thought of being able to actually knock you up now that you weren’t on birth control anymore, giving you a baby, proving another way to the world to mark you as his? The thought alone was enough to have him bracing every bone in his body to keep him from cuming right then and there. 

“Fuck me. You want me to fill you up, querida? Fuck me full of you? Fuck a baby into you? That's what you want, huh?” Frankie moaned, grunting with each thrust of his hips, his rhythm becoming more frantic and shaky as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit, swirling them in frantic circles to make sure you came before he did. 

“Fuck, yes. I need you too, holy fuck- wanna make you a daddy, Fransisco.” 

You could feel the tightly wound knot in your core starting to snap, your legs trembling and breath shaking as Frankie fucked into you, finding yourself on the verge of collapse- but not before Frankie’s filthy mouth got the last word in. 

“Jesus, fuck- Fuck, hermosa. That’s what you want, pretty girl? I swear, I’m gonna fuck myself so deep into you it’ll fucking take. Get you fucking pregnant tonight.” 

That was all it took to have you orgasm come crashing through you, every inch of your body radiating with pleasure as you came, crying out Frankie’s name as you gushed around him, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head, your mind going blank and numb, the only thing grounding you were the incoherent ramblings of your husband as he followed suit behind you. 

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, fuck, fuck-ahhhhhh.” With one final thrust, Frankie could feel himself spilling against your walls, coating you with his spend as his cock pulsed, making sure he milked himself of every last drop deep inside your cunt before even thinking about pulling out. Moving your leg, Frankie slumped into you, splaying himself across your body as your chests rose and fell in sync, laying in silence as you let your breathing steady, coming back down to Earth from your high. 

With a shallow grunt, Frankie carefully pulled his softening cock out of your heat, leaning back to admire the mess he had made between your legs, his cum dripping down the inside of your thighs and pussy glistening with the mixture of your arousal. You let out a soft hiss at the loss of Frankie’s fullness inside you, only to quickly be replaced by a gasp as he buried his two fingers back into your cunt.  

“Gotta make sure every last drop stays in there, hermosa. Gonna keep you full of me all night, baby.” He mewled, carefully gathering his spend and pushing it deep inside you, making you whimper as he slowly pulsed his fingers back and forth, pulling away his hand to lean back into your body, engulfing you with an electric kiss. 

“Holy fuck, fuck me. Jesus, Frankie.” You laughed to yourself, your head dipping back on the pillow as you buried your face in your hands, at a loss for words at how euphoric you now felt in your post colital bliss. 

“Wow, again, already? Gotta give me a few after that querida.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes at his joke as you playfully swatted at him, making him lean in to pepper your body with kisses, leaving you squealing and squirming in delight. 

“You are absolutely ridiculous, Fransisco Morales. If you keep fucking me like that, then yeah, absolutley.” 

“If I keep fucking you like this, I have a very hopeful feeling that next month, we’ll have something else to care about besides period cramps.”

“I swear to god, if one of my cravings ends up being buffalo chicken dip once I’m pregnant, I’m gonna be pissed.”

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