#i’m also so tired i’ve been exhausted all day
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meatsouuuuup · 2 years ago
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I’m gonna rage quit Duolingo
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bibleofficial · 7 days ago
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Hey, a shy mutual here, I love reading your tags on stuff, they always make you sound like you're in the middle of a manic episode or some other psychotic state, and that's exactly the sort of shit I stay on tumblr for 💖💖💖 you're doing.the Lord's work
wdym ‘sound like’ ? 😭😭
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binders-and-beanies · 7 months ago
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#cops tw#bro I cannot handle one more thing happening istg#got pulled over on my way home after a 13 hour day#was already scared to drive at night and that just confirmed that I’m right to be scared#it was for running a red light n it was one of those situations of just not having time to stop on yellow#I was fully aware as it was happening that I was either going to slam on my brakes in the intersection or run a red and I could see the cop#so I knew I was getting pulled over either way I just hoped the yellow would be longer than .5 seconds. not so lucky#except I also Am so lucky bc he let me off with a warning#ig bc I don’t have any sort of serious history + with it being 420 once he saw I was sober he prob went easier#it’s the second time I’ve been pulled over in my life tho and it’s scary bc this is the first time since the accident#which maybe that was also ok bc it wasn’t my fault#I just know every warning or unlucky moment costs u more in the future if u happen to get unlucky again#like I know I got out of that bc I’m white. it was still a scary moment bc there were multiple cop cars#so it’s like is this guy abt to ruin my life am I gonna lose my license for being at the wrong place wrong time#when I’m already salty to be driving this late involuntarily#so it’s like I got unlucky And very very lucky#I just hate the confirmation that u can get pulled over at any given moment#I constantly rehearse every possible convo w cops in my head bc if u come off disabled u can die#or get arrested or whatever#and then they like don’t follow the script and u didn’t expect this to happen to u today anyway and I get flustered#anyway my point is. I’m fucking exhausted and too many things keep happening#it’s long day after long day w no end in sight rn and I’m like half asleep every day#I just want to sleep. without feeling like I’m already tired tomorrow#it’s too much. just all of it#and on top of it all. it’s 420 so the whole dorm building is basically a cloud of weed#happy u guys are having fun but u are physically harming me in my home#mine#txt#vent post#personal
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scholarhect · 1 year ago
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jenny holzer inflammatory essays <3 i stood on the stairs and read every single one (there aren’t as many as it looks. each one is on here on about two columns, i think. still a long time to stand there) and i was in the way and people had to walk around me but i was like psssh this is an art gallery if they’re gonna display art here then i’m gonna look at it here. and then afterward i went up and stood by the barrier above the stairs and actually i could read the text reasonably well. so. maybe i did not in fact have to stand in everybody’s way. but whatever
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hannahhasafact · 5 months ago
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My level of exhaustion on this Sunday evening does not bode well for the upcoming week
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tootiecakes234 · 6 months ago
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Aged up Characters
MDNI: smutty
Katsuki had been gone for a month on an assignment and not only had he been away from you all that time, but it’d also been one of the most exhausting assignments he’d been on. Which is why he had EVERY intention of getting home and passing out in your shared bed for the next 3-4 business days.
He had a plan. Get home, take a shower and get directly into bed. Fuck food, fuck putting his things away.
But that entire plan went up in smoke when he got home.
He walks in with all his stuff and just drops everything close to the entrance. He trudges his way through the house and into your bedroom, when he hears the shower cut off.
He knew you were home because your car was in the driveway, but expected you to greet in the front room but he now sees you were otherwise occupied. What he didn’t expect was for you to come scampering out of the damn bathroom completely naked and dripping wet.
You of course screamed bloody murder because you hadn’t heard him come in.
“Katsuki what the hell?!! You scared the shit out of me! I could’ve killed you.”
He snorts, “with what? Your tits? Death by smothering??”
“Maybe dammit. My hearts almost came out of my throat.”
“So this is what you do when I’m gone huh?” He asks as he starts walking over to you. “Walk around naked and wet and what?? Do you air dry?” At this point his voice had dropped an octave or two and you could feel his eyes roaming over your body.
“No i d-don’t air dry…. Well that wasn’t my intention this time. I just left my towel out here.”
“Mmmm…” and he snakes his arms around your waist pulling you to him focusing his eyes on yours. “ I get home after a month and you dont even seem excited to see me.”
“Well maybe if you hadn’t tried to give me a heart attack…ouch asshole. Why the hell did you pinch my ass?”
“Be nice to me. I’m tired and jetlagged…. And now, because of you I’m hard” he of course takes this moment the press his groin up against you so you can feel how hard he actually is.
Your hands are resting on his biceps before the slide up and your hands sift into his hair.
“Well let me just dry off and I’ll help you with that” and you have the nerve to try and pull away from him.
“Why would you go dry off when I like you just like this hmm? Wet. And Naked.” And then he presses his firm lips against yours before sliding his hands down to cup both of your ass cheeks.
“Tell me you missed me brat. I’ve been here 5minutes and you haven’t said it.” He says with his lips pressed up against you ear and then he moves down and start placing sloppy kisses on your neck.
“Of, fuck, of course I missed you Katsuki. I sent you voice messages e-everyday telling you how much I missed you.” You whine.
“I don’t believe you.” And you jump before letting out a moan when this asshole slaps the hell out of one of your asscheeks. Then he slides his hand down and in between your puffy pussy lips.
When he pulls back to look at you there is a smirk playing on his lips. “Maybe you did miss me.”
“I told you.” You say as a pout forms on your lips.
“I can’t be sure though. I need you to prove it.”
“Prove it how Kat? I’m wet for you already. Is that not enough??”
Then his smirk turns into the most devilish smile you’ve ever see. “ i told you im exhausted from fighting villains, and you know making the world a safer place.”
“Get to the point you terrible man”
He chuckles at that. “Well that means I need you to be a big girl and do all the work this time. Need you to get my cock all wet with that filthy mouth of yours and then need you to ride me til I fill up my pretty little cunt ok?? Can you do that for me?”
All you can do is nod your head and drop to your knees.
This definitely not how he pictured his arrival home. It was so much better.
Katsuki Bakugo Masterlist
*id just like to say that this fic started with a whole different idea in mind and evolved into this and i never even got around to the original because it was getting too long😭
*also this isn’t proofread in the slightest so sorry🤭
Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @blaize-hewwo @sweetblueworm @tippy-toes @superlegend216 @kxtsxkii @liliththeunqualifiedsimp @burgvndy @fluffismystaplefood @yoyolovesdaiki @zaiban2989 @zanarkandskylines
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dollgxtz · 2 months ago
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I gotta know when you’re posting the Zayne CNC fic??? I’ve been checking your blog multiple times a day for it!
But realistically, no pressure 😂 I know writing is hard, and I can wait, lol. It’s worth the wait. I just want to show support for you and your craft. ❤️
Also, I love your yandere!Sylus fic! I’m only on chapter four and I see so many asks about it and I have to physically stop myself from spoiling it for myself, lmao. I’m so excited to read more! Your writing and your tics are a highlight of my day. 😊🥰
Edge Of Control
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Word Count: 6.2k
Tags: zayne x fem!reader, cnc, cutting, tw slight blood, scalpel play, choking, biting, degradation, blowjob, degrading names, pet names like darling, pain play, home invasion roleplay, primal play, aftercare in the end
AN: Hi everyone! I know this was a LONG awaited fic but I wanted it to be absolutely perfect for my second husband ^0^. Also ty anon for the very sweet words! I hope this fic makes up for the amount of time you had to wait!!!
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It was well past midnight, and the house felt eerily quiet without him. You lay on the couch, wearing nothing but a pair of Zayne’s boxers, the soft fabric a small comfort in his absence. A half-empty bottle of wine sat forgotten on the floor beside you, each sip doing little to calm the restless energy humming beneath your skin. The TV flickered, casting shadows across the room as you absentmindedly flicked through the channels, though nothing could hold your attention.
Your mind kept wandering back to Zayne, a dull ache settling in your chest. He was on another one of those grueling shifts—long hours with no word, no way to reach out to him. The pit of anxiety in your stomach tightened. You didn’t know exactly what his job as a surgeon demanded of him, but you could see it weighing on him more and more. His face had grown tired, the usual sparkle in his eyes dulled by exhaustion. You noticed the way his shoulders remained stiff, tension knotting in his body like a rope pulled too tight, barely holding it together.
Every time he came home like this, you saw it—the frustration simmering just beneath the surface. His body brimming with pent-up energy, adrenaline coursing through his veins with no way to let go. He was so tightly wound, like he was carrying the weight of a world you couldn’t fully understand. And every time you saw him like that, it broke something inside you. You wanted to help him. You wanted to be the one to take that edge off, to give him the release he so desperately needed but would never ask for.
You remembered the last time he came home with that storm in his eyes. Desperation had driven you to plead with him, to offer yourself as an outlet for all that tension, that frustration. You had begged him, your voice trembling, to let go, to take what he needed from you. But he refused. The worry in his eyes had cut deep, his voice firm but laced with guilt as he told you he didn’t want to hurt you.
That memory lingered now, thick in your chest. He was always so controlled, so careful. You knew he loved you, but there was a part of him that he kept locked away, too afraid to unleash it. But you wanted it—you craved it. You wanted him to feel safe enough to lose that control with you, to trust that you could handle it. That you wanted to handle it. But no matter how much you tried to reach him, he kept that wall up, afraid of what might happen if he let himself go.
You took another slow sip of wine, feeling the warmth of it spread through your chest, slightly loosening the anxious knot that had taken residence in your stomach. You always drank more when he was away—needed it, really. It dulled the sharp edges of worry that kept you up at night, made sleep feel a little less impossible. Without him beside you, the house felt too empty, and your mind raced with thoughts you couldn’t control.
Your eyes drifted shut, and the thought crossed your mind again—he could hurt you, if he wanted to. God, he was strong enough. His hands, so skilled and sure in the operating room, could easily push you beyond your limits if he ever let himself go. He knew the human body better than anyone; he understood exactly where and how to apply pressure, how to control every reaction. And then there was the scalpel—his precision tool of choice. He was so adept with it, using it in ways you’d never imagined.
You remembered the first time he’d worked it into one of your nights together, after you had begged him to try something more daring, something that would leave you breathless. He had been hesitant at first, but the results... God, the results. The thrill of that sharp edge glinting in the dim light, the cold metal kissing your skin before it pressed just enough to break the surface. You shivered as the memory washed over you, your body tingling with the vivid recollection.
The pain had been brief, but it was the anticipation, the unspoken threat, that had driven you wild. You could still feel it—the delicate line of fire it had traced across your shoulder, a stinging reminder of his control. And then the blade had hovered at your throat, a silent promise lingering in the air between you, making your pulse race and your breath catch in your throat. In that moment, you had never felt more alive, more his.
Your hand had barely slipped down to your heat when the sharp trill of your phone cut through the quiet. Heart pounding, you snatched it up, the suddenness of it snapping you out of your haze.
“Hello?” you answered, your voice a little breathless, still tangled in the memory of him.
“Is that offer still on the table?” Zayne’s voice poured through the speaker, low and worn, with that familiar undercurrent of exhaustion. But there was something else this time—something darker. His words dripped with a kind of danger, smooth and sweet like black honey, making your stomach flip.
You swallowed hard, a spark igniting low in your belly. “Uh, depends which one,” you managed, trying to play it cool as you sat up, bringing the wine bottle to your lips for another sip. Your heart was racing, anticipation thrumming under your skin.
“The one where I use you.”
The words hit you like a jolt of electricity, sending a thrill straight to your core. The raw need in his voice was unmistakable, and it struck every nerve you had. You faltered for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of your own reaction. You tried to cover the sudden loss of words with another drink, the wine sliding down your throat as you let the tension stretch between you.
One more sip—just one more for courage. Then, finally, you answered, your voice steadier than you felt.
“Yes.”
“Is the wine good, darling?”
The question hung in the air, and your heart skipped a beat. “What?” you murmured, glancing around the dark living room. The flicker of the TV had left your eyes hazy, still not fully adjusted to the shadows creeping through the room. How did he know you’d been drinking wine?
Your breath caught as an icy chill swept through the house, raising goosebumps on your skin. Instinctively, your gaze darted to the front door, and your stomach dropped. It was wide open, swaying slightly as a gust of wind pushed against it.
You hadn’t heard a thing. Not the lock turning, not the door creaking. Nothing.
How had he gotten in without you noticing?
You stared at the door, frozen in place, watching as it swung shut on its own, the soft click of the latch echoing through the quiet. A chill ran down your spine as the realization hit—you hadn’t heard him enter on purpose. He wanted you to know he’d slipped in unnoticed, that he’d been watching you this whole time. Your mind spun with the thought: How long had he been there?
The phone slipped from your grasp, and you barely registered the sharp whine of the line going dead, drowned out by the thundering pulse of your heartbeat in your ears.
The soft but deliberate sound of shoes against the ceramic floor snapped you back into focus. Your senses sharpened, instincts kicking in. He was coming closer—fast.
In the low, flickering light of the TV, you saw him emerge from the shadows. Long strides brought him swiftly across the room, his form cutting through the dim light with an air of purpose. His form caught the harsh glow—the broad shoulders of his body, the sharp angles of his face—only partially revealed, but enough to make your breath hitch.
Then, without warning, the TV blinked out, plunging the room into complete darkness. The sudden silence was deafening. The sound of his footsteps, which had been closing in on you, vanished as if he’d disappeared into the night itself.
But you knew better.
He was there, somewhere in the blackness, waiting for you to realize it. The tension in the air was thick, every hair on your body standing on end as you strained to hear the slightest movement, feel the faintest brush of his presence.
You held your breath, every muscle in your body coiled tight. The tension crackled in the dark, your senses heightened by the weight of his silent presence.
Suddenly, the TV blared a sharp noise from the movie, flooding the room with light for just a second. And there he was, Zayne, only a few feet away—moving like a shadow, so silently it made your skin crawl. His face was bathed in the cold glow, and the way the light played off his sharp features made him look almost predatory. His expression was intense, dark, and unreadable, as if he was walking a line between control and something much more dangerous.
Your brain screamed danger. Fight or flight surged through your veins, heart hammering against your ribcage as self-preservation took over. Without thinking, your hand tightened around the neck of the wine bottle, the glass cool and smooth in your grip. Before you could second-guess it, you raised it high above your head and hurled it straight at him, instinct driving your every move.
But then—he catches it. Effortlessly. The bottle freezes mid-air, his hand snapping up to grab it as if it were nothing more than a tossed pillow. He doesn’t flinch. His stride doesn’t break. His hazel green eyes, burning with that same dangerous intensity, never leave yours for even a second. The best defense you could muster didn’t even make him blink.
Calmly, as though the act hadn’t fazed him at all, he places the bottle on the side table, his gaze still locked on you. The silence between you feels deafening as he closes the distance, his steps slow but deliberate.
Panic shot through you like a wild animal, adrenaline making your limbs tremble. But something else flared right alongside it—something that sent a pulse of heat straight to your core. It was fear, raw and visceral, but it was tangled up with desire, twisted into something you couldn’t quite understand but craved all the same.
You held your breath, every muscle in your body coiled tight. The tension crackled in the dark, your senses heightened by the weight of his silent presence.
Like prey trapped in the gaze of a predator, you couldn’t move.
Couldn’t look away.
And you almost didn’t want to.
You whip around, adrenaline taking over, and try to run—but you barely make it a few steps before it’s too late. You don’t even hear him behind you. The silence is terrifying, disorienting. Then, out of nowhere, his hand clamps around your elbow, and a startled shriek escapes your lips, cut off as he uses your momentum against you, spinning you sharply into the wall.
Your back collides with it hard, knocking the breath from your lungs. A whimper slips out, unbidden, from the shock of the impact. Before you can recover, Zayne’s voice, low and commanding, hisses in your ear.
“Don’t fight it,” he growls, the words sharp like a promise. “You asked for this.”
Panic surges through your body, instinct screaming at you to get away. “Let go!” you cry out, fear pulsing hot and fast through your veins. But your voice is weak, barely masking the excitement that’s battling for control inside you.
He doesn’t. Instead, he’s on you again, his mouth descending on your neck with a hunger that makes your pulse quicken. One of his hands grips your jaw with rough precision, calloused fingers pressing into your skin, holding you in place. You try to twist away, but he holds you firm, his touch demanding, possessive.
His lips travel down your neck, finding your pulse point first, then moving lower, grazing the soft curve beneath your ear. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, and despite the panic swirling in your chest, a desperate whimper escapes. Your body betrays you, your hips instinctively rocking toward him, already aching for his touch. The heat between your legs flares, want burning through the fear.
His tongue traces a line down your neck, the warmth of it lingering only for a moment before the cool air chills the wet skin. Then his teeth sink into the muscle above your collarbone, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to make you gasp in pain. You wince, your body tensing as the sharp sensation rolls through you.
Your hand flies up to his head, fingers tangling in his hair as you try to push him off, your grip weak and trembling. But Zayne doesn't budge. His strength overwhelms you, his body pressing against yours with an intensity that leaves no room for escape. His breath is hot against your skin as he continues, relentless, leaving you caught between fear and an overpowering need that consumes you both.
"Zayne," you whimper. He releases his teeth from your neck with a chuckle that curls fear inside you…
His hands take your wrists, leading them above your head. You try to squirm out of his grasp. Partly because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of pinning you. Partly out of the fear of what he could do if you can’t push him away, his entire aura shifted to something more angry and dangerous than usual. 
"Don't pretend like you don't like it," he says into the angle of your jaw. He leaves soft kisses there while he effortlessly pins your arms above your head. He holds them there with one hand.
The other gropes and squeezes it’s way down your body. Your chest, your side, your waist. He grabs a hold of your hips, thumb perfectly lining up with the dune of your hipbone. He pulls your hips towards him harshly enough to draw a noise from your lips. He works his knee between your thighs, then pushes them open. He swallows any attempted protests with a kiss. His knee presses against your sensitive cunt and you whimper against his lips in response. 
“Oh, what happened to all the struggling?” Zayne mocks you, punctuating his words by squeezing your wrists hard enough to bruise. His hand comes up under your t-shirt and you shiver against the sensation of his fingers on your bare skin. You melt. Fucking putty in his hands.
You open your mouth to protest, to say anything that might break the tension or reclaim some of your control, but before the words can form, Zayne grinds his knee into your core. The pressure sends a jolt of raw pleasure through your body, and the only sound that escapes is a desperate, breathy whine. His reaction is immediate—he hums with satisfaction, his lips curving into a smug smile. He does it again, harder this time, and you can feel him reveling in the control, in the power he has over you.
Your mind scrambles to catch up with your body, which is already responding in ways you can’t hide. You try to meet his gaze, desperately wanting to say something sharp, something biting, anything to regain your footing. But the moment your eyes lock with his, whatever witty retort you had dies on your tongue.
His face is half-hidden in the darkness, but his eyes... there’s something in them that makes your heart stutter. Not just the hunger, not just the dominance—it’s deeper. There’s a flash of genuine anger simmering beneath the surface, something darker that you hadn’t expected, and it sends a ripple of unease through you. The intensity of it levels you, catching you off guard.
Suddenly, this feels like more than just a game. Warmth floods your chest, your body still responding to him in ways you can’t control, but a new sense of apprehension takes root. You’re playing with something dangerous, something unpredictable. The heat between you is no longer just desire—it’s the burn of real fire, and you’re not sure if you’re ready for the flames.
Your breath comes faster as you take in the sight of him. His chest rising and falling, his lips parted slightly, the way his muscles tense beneath his skin. You’re mesmerized, caught between the fear of what he might do next and the undeniable pull he has over you.
You take him in, eyes sweeping over the familiar lines of his body now that he’s standing in front of you. His white lab coat is gone, discarded somewhere behind him, leaving him in his crisp white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows as if he couldn’t be bothered to fully undress. His shirt is buttoned neatly up to the collar, accentuating his thick, muscular frame in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. The tie around his neck is still knotted, slightly loosened from a long day’s work, but there’s something disheveled about him now—something raw and untamed lurking beneath the polished exterior.
His dark slacks cling to his legs, perfectly tailored to his build, emphasizing his long leg now settled between your core. The soft fabric sways with his movements, while his polished shoes make almost no sound against the floor, their silence unsettling given the tension simmering between you.
His arms cage you in, closing off this small corner of the world to just the two of you. It feels like there’s nothing outside this moment, no one else but him—towering over you, his strength radiating off him in waves. The air between you feels thick, charged with tension and unspoken desire. Your gaze travels back to his face, meeting his intense eyes, and despite the weight of the moment, you can’t help but smile mischievously.
Without a second thought, you turn your head and sink your teeth into his arm, biting down just enough to feel the resistance of his skin, tasting the salty warmth of him. At the same time, you grind your hips down against him, pressing into the hardness beneath his slacks.
You expect him to react instantly, to snarl an insult or degrade you for your boldness. To throw out one of his usual threats—punishment, discipline—his voice dripping with disdain for your insolence, for the way you always push his boundaries. You brace yourself for it, for the sting of his words, the sharp crack of his tone that would send heat rushing through your body.
But it doesn’t come.
Instead, he goes completely still. The tension in his muscles shifts, tightening under your bite, but his silence unnerves you more than anything. You can feel it—the raw power coursing just beneath his skin, his body vibrating with restraint. His muscles flex under your teeth, taut with the effort of holding something back. You release your grip slightly, confused, nervous. But Zayne says nothing. He’s a coiled spring, quiet, calculating, like a predator biding its time.
Methodically, he moves, his hands sliding down your arms, his touch precise, controlled, like he’s performing surgery. Each motion deliberate, calculated. His fingers glide over your skin, and with each inch he covers, the nervousness inside you builds. His control feels absolute, every movement designed to unsettle, to leave you wondering what’s coming next.
Then his hands reach your head, enveloping it completely. His fingers curl around your skull, not rough but firm enough to make you feel small, trapped in his grip. His thumbs rest near your temples, steady, as if he’s taking his time to savor the way your breath catches. The weight of his touch presses down on you, making it impossible to move.
With one harsh movement, he’s pushed you down onto your knees. He undoes his belt and pulls himself free, his beautiful cock glistening with pre-cum. One hand presses hard into your jaw. Harder. His thumb pressing against the muscles there until you open your mouth for him. The head of his cock comes to rest against your lips.
The taste of salt and Zayne’s soap is too tempting to resist. He was usually such a giver, and when you went down on him, he always liked it slow. You lick up the length of his cock and he shivers in response. He drops his hands to your shoulders and you watch his forearms flex in pleasure. Your tongue swirls around his soft tip, and then you take him into your mouth soft and sweet.
Except... this time he doesn’t respond with shaking breaths and high pitched whimpers. Not even an utterance of your name. Insecurity flashes through you - you were sure this is how he usually liked it. Were you not doing well enough for him? You cast your eyes upwards for guidance, barely able to see him in the dark. 
“You really think that’s going to cut it?” His voice is cold and hard. Then his hands are on the back of your head, pushing you down onto his cock so fast and deep you almost gag. You pull away to drag a sharp breath into your lungs, abdomen muscles flexing.
 “You want to be fucked like a slut, you’re going to have to earn it.” He pulls you back down onto him.
Suppressing the urge to gag brings tears to your eyes, and it isn’t long until they’re falling down your cheek, mingling with the saliva making a mess of your mouth and chin. Wet, choking noises echo into the empty hall. When you start to slow, whimpering from the effort, he’s quick to pick up the slack. He thrusts his hips forward, pinning your head between him and the wall. You choke and gag around him, struggling to adjust around the brutal pace he sets, fucking your throat like you're nothing to him but a toy. Your hands come up to his hips, but he wrenches them away with a furious grunt. 
He pulls out suddenly, thick strands of saliva dripping off his cock. His breathing is hard and sweat rolls down the lines of his ab muscles. Your shoulders slump and you try to catch your breath. You’re absolutely spent. How humiliating that he didn’t even have to touch you to keep you wet for him, a vague sense of disgust emanating through your core.
“Was that good enough?” you weakly ask, but you might as well be begging him to fuck you for the look in your eyes. You don’t even bother to wipe the spit from your chin or the tears from your cheeks. You hope the sight gets under his skin so he can fuck you just as rough as he did your throat. 
“I don’t buy it,” he says. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and frustration. 
“What?” 
“I just don’t buy that you want me to fuck you.” 
You’re about to ask what you can possibly do more to prove it when something hard presses against your warmth, pushing your soaked boxers against you. You look down do see Zayne presenting his shoe. Polished and tightly tied, the mere sight of them gave obvious impression of what he wanted from you. But why?
You look up at him, but all he does is look back at you, expectantly. Your can feel the heat creeping up your neck as you adjust to straddle his shoe. You keep hoping he’ll just end your suffering by mocking you for even considering it, but it never comes. The cold, hard leather against you sends a wave of electricity through your body. Your hips are moving on their own. Your body desperate for anything it can get, chasing it’s high no matter how humiliating. You turn your face away from him, unable to stand him looking at you like this. Grinding against his shoe... 
“There they are. My desperate little darling,” his voice has the first touch of warmth it’s had all night. It’s enough to spurn you on, the heat coiling in your abdomen. You pick up the pace against your will, your body chasing ecstasy like an uncaged animal. And Zayne just watches you, expression never changing, never reaching down to touch you. God, were you really going to cum on his shoe while he looked at you like that?
He kneeled down to one knee, doing his best not to disturb your work. His strong hands take hold of your hips and push you harder against his shoe, dragging your hips up and down. You moan, tears collecting in your eyes again. You can’t believe you’re enjoying this. Even - no, especially because it hurt. You were getting closer, your moans coming faster. 
“Beg for it,” Zayne orders. 
“Please let me cum, Zayne, please!” 
“Tsk. Not that,” he pulls his shoe away like he's disgusted and you whimper in protest. Then, as if you were light as a feather, he’s tossing you to the side. You catch yourself on your elbows and feel them scrape against the ceramic floor. Your hips grind against the air as they searched for any friction at all that would send you over the edge. They found nothing. 
“Silly girl.” He sounds bored as he stands to his full height above you.
You watch as his hand pulls a scalpel from his pocket. It captures his full attention, glinting in the light of the TV behind him. When he speaks, it's almost to the room.
“Isn’t this your favorite part? Where you try and fail to escape?” 
You don’t move. He flips the scalpel in the air, catching it by the tip of the blade, and then again to catch it by the handle. He admires it as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world. 
“Start crawling,” he suggests. 
You push yourself onto tired, shaking limbs and try to get up. They give out on you. You pull yourself forward on your elbows instead. You hear the nearly silent creak of his shoes. The another. Then another. You feel small crawling beneath him, listening to the gentle whirl of the scalpel as he tosses it in the air. His shoes creak again, then again. 
You turned to look at him. You were almost overwhelmed at how he towered above you. His broad shoulders blocking out the light in the hallway. One hand busy toying with the scalpel, the other pulling his pants further down his hips. He was clearly taking his time.
“You ever wonder why you like to fight so much?” You watch shoe follow shoe in lazy strides until they were at either side of your ribcage, standing above you.
“Should I let you get away again?” he asks, but then he’s dropping to his knees, pinning you beneath him. Fear takes hold of your vocal chords and you make a desperate noise, pushing at his legs. “Will you just give in already?” 
With a calculated shift, Zayne turns your body to face him, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst from your chest. The tension between you crackles in the air, and before you can fully process what’s happening, his hand finds your neck, fingers wrapping around it with unyielding force. His palm presses against your throat, squeezing just enough to send a jolt of pain through you, sharp and undeniable.
"It takes about 10 seconds for pressure to the jugular to result in unconsciousness," Zayne says calmly, his voice low, almost clinical, as if reciting a fact from one of his textbooks. His grip tightens again, harder this time, and the sensation of control he wields is overwhelming.
The edges of your vision blur almost immediately, the world around you starting to fade. You feel lightheaded, like the ground is slipping away beneath your feet, your body caught in the thin space between pain and pleasure. But beneath the intoxicating sensations, panic begins to swell. The lightness in your head grows, and then you feel weightless, disconnected from reality as the darkness creeps in around your sight.
Your body starts to respond, instinct driving you toward the rising sense of panic. The pleasure and thrill that had mixed with the danger of it all suddenly feel too real, too much, as Zayne relentlessly pushes you to your limits.
You bring your hand up weakly, your fingers trembling, and tap his arm three times. The motion is small but deliberate, your safe signal.
For a brief, terrifying second, you wonder if he’s noticed.
He releases and you gasp for air. He lets you catch your breath, and for a minute you’re almost angry. But the growing wet between your legs betrays you to yourself, forcing you to admit you liked being pushed to the edge. An exhilarated smile picks up the corners of your mouth and Zayne, intently waiting for you to lead, just watches.
“More,” is all you need to say, and he’s on you again. Hand lighter on your throat, he brandishes the scalpel to catch your eye. It makes contact with your skin and you fight to control a shiver. 
It glides around your shoulder, then down your collar bone. The razor sharp point leaving a thin, red cut beneath the bone. You gasp, back arching into the sting. He withdraws. 
“If you keep squirming, I’m going to hurt you for real.” It’s as much a warning as it is a threat, and the dark rasp of his voice sends a chill down your spine. 
Then you go still again, he continues. The scalpel crosses your chest, taking it’s time tracing each and every one of your ribs. He draws a bead of blood there, before lifting the blade again. You moan, squeezing your thighs together to keep from moving your hips. The anticipation almost too much for you. But the movement catches his eye. He pockets the scalpel, and then he’s prying your thighs apart so hard you feel the ache in your hips. You try to shimmy away, but his hands hold your thighs fast against him. 
“I said hold still,” he grunts, squeezing his hands around the squish of your thighs hard enough that you make a noise. "What part of stop squirming do you not get?"
Your hand comes up to his hips, trying to hold them at a distance, but it doesn’t help. He pulls you closer to him and you feel his cock hard and leaking over your boxers. Fuck, you almost come undone all over again. Feeling him pressed against you like this... his cock easily reaching your belly button, reminding you how deep inside you he could be. 
“Zayne, please,” you whimper. 
“Please what?” He asks. You feel the cold blade against the tender, exposed part of your thigh. 
“Please fuck me.” 
He grunts, a noise that commits to nothing. He pulls the fabric of your boxers off your body and slips the scalpel beneath it. He cuts the thin fabric off of you in a show of strength and skill that intimidates you. 
He leans over you slowly, his hips pressed flush against yours, his cock pressed against where you want it most. A hand comes up to your face then, holding your jaw hard as he turns your face away from his. The scalpels beautiful surface approaches your cheek. Your breath picks up, fear coursing through you. He says nothing, and it makes it all the more terrifying. Your instincts freeze every muscle in your body. 
“You asked for this,” he reminds you, tracing the curve of your cheek. You bite your lip.
He pockets the scalpel once more, and you realize then that he's still entirely dressed, his pants only pulled down enough to fuck you. He shifts his hips, lining up with your needy hole. You’re already moaning for him.
“Begging me to use you like this, begging me to hurt you like this.” He pushes into you, your cunt struggling to adjust to his size. He only makes it a couple inches. He pulls out of you, then thrusts again, moaning as he does. This time when he pushes into you, he completely fills you. You both release an almost victorious sigh.
“Always fucking struggling. Can never just make it easy,” he growls, that angry look in his eye. His jaw flexes. Your cunt tenses around him.
He thrusts into you again, and again, so hard it feels like he could fuck you in half. He dips his face into your neck, moaning.
"You want me to force you onto my cock." His voice tightened with effort, but never lost that black-honey edge. "Can't say no to you. Do this because I love you."
You reach up and cling to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric. His words shouldn't thrill you, but they did. Your eyes flutter closed. Your body shook beneath him.
“This is messed up,” Zayne’s hips start to pick up their pace. You wrap your legs around him, encouraging him, pulling him deeper into you. You find yourself moaning his own words back at him; so messed up, so messed up. 
Fuck, he felt so good. The two of you dissolved into senseless babbling, saying whatever it took to push each other closer to the edge. A meaningless cloud of fuck and just like that and you begged for this until neither of you could form words at all. Your pace became erratic, moaning into each other’s necks, limbs tightening around each other as you both approached your highs.
“Fuck, fuck, m’so-” you barely manage, panting and moaning through your words. Your thighs tighten around him and he groans in response. 
And then you’re coming undone together. His hips driving his cock as deep as they can with the primal need to fuck his cum deeper inside you. You take it, greedily, breathlessly as your own climax rocks through your body like an earthquake. 
He rests his forehead against your chest while he pulls out of you, then collapses onto the cool ceramic floor of the hallway beside you. He turns you onto your side and buries his head against your back, forearms tight against your chest while he hugs you close to him. 
“I didn’t think,” you take a deep breath, trying not to pant through your sentence, “that when I asked you to use me after your work shifts, that it’d be like that.” 
“Bad?” He asks, his voice uncharacteristically small. 
“No, no,” you rush to recover the situation. You lace your fingers with his, “Of course not.” 
He says nothing. You turn to look at him, and there’s that distant, tired look on his face. 
“Are you okay...?” 
“I will tell you about it soon, darling” he says. You hum as acknowledgement, wishing you could say anything, but feeling like nothing was the right thing to say. Instead you just let him hold you for awhile. 
Zayne held you close, his body a solid, comforting weight against yours, his bodily warmth gradually soothing the whirlwind of sensation still buzzing under your skin. But then, you felt him shift. His fingers, cold and precise, began to ghost over the cuts he had made, tracing the delicate lines he’d etched into your skin with surgical precision. You shivered at his touch, a soft gasp escaping your lips.
His eyes softened, and in a voice barely louder than a whisper, he said, “I need to tend to these.” His words were gentle, but firm, a quiet reminder of the care he always took with you, even now.
He pressed a tender kiss to your temple, the warmth of it contrasting with the coolness of his fingers, and then he pulled away. You watched him button his pants, his movements deliberate but unhurried, before disappearing down the hall. Even through the exhaustion weighing you down, you heard the faint sound of him rummaging in the bathroom, retrieving what he needed.
When he returned, Zayne knelt beside you, his medical kit in hand. His usual calm, professional demeanor was still there, but this time it was softened with a tenderness only reserved for you. Gently, he began to disinfect the cuts, his touch as light as it was thorough. The sting of the antiseptic bit into your skin, making you wince, but his hand found yours, his thumb brushing reassuringly over your knuckles. It was a silent promise: I’m here, I’ve got you.
With every stroke of the gauze, every carefully placed bandaid, Zayne’s focus never wavered. His gaze remained trained on you, on the cuts he was tending to, but there was something deeper in his expression—something protective, almost reverent, as though he was caring for a part of himself.
When he finally finished, he sat back slightly, his hand resting on your arm, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you were truly okay. You could see the tension from earlier still lingering in the set of his jaw, the concern etched faintly into the lines of his face.
“I’m okay, I promise,” you murmured, your voice heavy with exhaustion, your body finally giving in to the weight of the night. Your limbs felt like lead, but your heart fluttered at the care he was taking with you, the gentleness of his hands now so different from the intensity you’d felt earlier.
“I’m just…so exhausted now” you sigh, briefly closing your eyes as another wave of tiredness washed through you.
Zayne’s expression softened into a small smile, one so full of adoration it made your chest tighten with affection. He stood, helping you up with careful hands, supporting your weight as he guided you to the couch. His arm stayed wrapped around you, keeping you close, steadying you as he laid you down gently, as though you were something fragile.
He settled in beside you, his body curling protectively around yours, pulling you against his chest. “We’ll clean up later,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead in a soft kiss. The warmth of his breath and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you, the scent of him comforting, grounding you.
You nestled deeper into him, the tension of the night melting away in his embrace. Wrapped in his arms, in the safety of his presence, your exhaustion finally caught up with you. Your eyelids fluttered closed, the world around you fading into the soft haze of sleep. And there, in the quiet of the night, you both drifted off together, tangled in each other, with nothing but the sound of your breathing and the quiet rise and fall of his chest.
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carmenberzattosgf · 9 months ago
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OH MY GOD CARMY SMOKING WHILE YOU RIDE HIM walk with me…
maybe you’re at his place, or his office, and you’ve just been kinda needy all day. not to an ‘annoying’ extent, but carmen sees it because he knows you. so when he tugs his jeans and boxers down just enough for you, you pounce
he leans back in his couch/chair, pulling out a cigarette and lazily watches you go at it. maybe he’d tug your shirt up so he could ‘see his girls.’ his nonchalance just drives you fucking crazy and he lets you do it yourself, no matter how many times you whine for him to help because ‘you were fuckin’ gagging for it all day, who am i to interrupt, huh? jus’ keep fuckin’ me like that’
i don’t think he’d blow smoke in your face (intentionally) but if you find it hot he would. and once he’s done he puts out the cigarette, his lax grip on your thighs tightening as he starts snapping his hips against yours
Also includes this ask I got shortly after: Camry smoking a cig during sex has my mind going brrrrrrrrrrrrr. It's so lazy, too. just slow riding him while he lays back and watches. Maybe it's punishment for acting up???? You're just whining on his cock begging for him to help you cum.
I. YEAH. YOU GET IT. Time to expand on these thoughts. ( this ended up being 1670k words of filth)
You find yourself at Carmy’s apartment on his day off. Those don’t come around too often. You expected him to do something by now, but he hasn’t made a single move to get his hands on you. He kissed you when you came in, but that was about it.
You take matters into your own hands. Try to, at least. You are practically all over him, never leaving his side. When he’s standing at his kitchen counter that evening, pouring you a glass of wine, you quietly walk up behind him. Your arms wrap around his waist while you rest your forehead on the center of Carmy’s back. You let your hands gently slide over the taunt muscles of his stomach over his shirt as you speak.
“I’ve missed you, Bear. Missed your hugs. It feels like I’ve hardly seen you all week.” He sighs into your touch.
“I’ve missed you too, baby.” Carmy turns around to hand you the glass. “Work was extra crazy this week. I’m sorry I didn’t have time to see you.”
“It’s alright. I know it was out of your control…Maybe there’s a way you can make it up to me?” You flash him a look he knows full well.
A breathy chuckle leaves his lips. “Sweetheart, I’m exhausted. Can we just watch some tv?”
You don’t even attempt to hide the pout on your face as you settle next to him on the couch, leaning against him with his arm around you. Carmy put on a show he knows the both of you like.
You only keep your hands to yourself for one whole episode. Your movements start slow. At first you begin to trail your fingertips along his side. It’s not long before your hand slides up under the fabric of his white tee.
“Baby, what are you doing?” Carmen’s voice is smooth and calm. You lean up to press a kiss on his check, followed by a quick one to his neck.
“Oh. Nothing.”
“Let’s not play dumb now. I think you know better than that.” He leans back away from your body, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m going to let you try again. What are you doing?”
You fold instantly. “I need you, Carm. I really need you.”
“Yeah? Missed my cock, huh? Want it so bad that you don’t care about how tired I am?”
“No! No, that’s not it—“ you protest quickly.
“Fine.” Carmy begins to unbuckle his belt as he speaks. “But I’m not putting in any work.” He lowers his jeans and boxers just enough to free his dick.
Without a second thought, you stand up from the couch and pull down your pants and underwear. Once you straddle his hips, you reach down and pump his hard cock, spreading the precum over his length. Carmy takes in the sight of you as you gradually sink down onto him. Slowly, inch by inch.
Despite how many times you've been with Carmy, you still haven't gotten used to the stretch. In a position like this, it almost feels like he's in your stomach. Your eyelids squint shut while you take deep breaths and try to adjust. Though, at the sound of a lighter, your eyes pop right back open, staring down at Carmen with wide-eyes. A cigarette rests between his lips, having just been lit.
“W-what are you doing?” You’re expecting him to start guiding your hips, but he doesn’t. Carmy leans back against the couch, making himself comfortable. He lets his legs spread wide, forcing you to straddle higher up on his hips. The action presses his cock even deeper inside of you. He looks as though he’s having an evening cigarette, only difference is that you’re on top of him.
His tattooed fingers takes the cigarette from his mouth so he can blow out the smoke. Carmy turns his head to the side, blowing the smoke cloud away from you. The smell quickly fills up your nose. "I told you, l'm tired.” His voice is stoic. If it wasn’t for his cock pulsing inside of you, you wouldn’t think he’s turned on. “Go on and get yourself off. I'm going to enjoy my cigarette."
You start slow, grinding your hips on him. Your hands rest on his lower stomach for leverage as you rock against him. His abs are taunt and hard underneath your palms. The motion rubs your clit on his pelvis, causing a breathless moan to leave your throat.
Carmy remains still beneath you, watching you with lust-filled eyes. One of his hands rests on your thigh. His other hand tends to the cigarette in his mouth. He speaks up after a moment of letting you rock against him.
“Should have just let you sit on my thigh if all you’re going to do is grind on me. Thought you said you wanted my cock?” He waits for your response, bringing the cigarette back up to his lips to take a deep drag.
“I-I do—“ Carmy doesn’t let you finish your sentence, lightly blowing smoke into your face. He doesn’t miss the way you clench around him from the simple action, but he chooses not to tease you for it.
“Then fuck yourself on me. You’re a big girl. You can do it by yourself.”
You whimper pitifully. You want his strong arms to grab your hips and slam you down onto his cock, but that wasn’t going to happen. You rise up on your knees, letting his cock thrust almost entirely out of you. Your hips sink right back down onto him afterwards. The pleasure is unexplainable, sending electricity through your veins as he bottoms out.
You set a slow pace, not able to go as fast without Carmy’s help. His pupils are blown wide as he stares up at you, before his gaze moves downwards. He watches as his cock disappears inside of you with each slow thrust. You’re dripping, coating his dick with your arousal. The sight of his thick cock stretching you out hypnotizes him.
His lack of words and refusal to help is killing you. You need him to fuck you. Your thighs burn, growing tired from the repetitive movements. “C-carm. Need you to help. Please- please I need it.” You cry out.
“You were the one gagging for my cock all day. Why should I help? Just keep fucking me like this, yeah?” He’s nearing the end of his cigarette, only a couple more minutes of life left in it. You try your best to continue bouncing on him, but it’s getting more difficult by the minute.
“Carm— fuck!” You exclaim as his cock nudges against that spot deep inside you. Carmy ignores your cries. He takes his hand off of your thigh and tugs the material of your tank top up, exposing your tits.
“There we go. Now I can see my girls.” He still doesn’t go any further than that, letting his hand go back to resting on your thigh. Not even so much as rubbing a thumb over your breast. He goes back to watching you move, fighting the urge to hold your tits for you while you bounce.
The muscles in your legs begin to twitch, but not from being close to your high. Your legs are exhausted, and your pace shows it. You’re getting slower, not going as consistently.
Carmy reaches the end of his cigarette, taking one last long drag. He grabs your face with his hand. His thumb on your chin opens up your lips. Carmen exhales the smoke into your mouth, expecting you to inhale it. You do exactly that, letting the smoke fill up your lungs before blowing it out in the space between the two of you.
Now fully satisfied, Carmy reaches over to stub out his cigarette on the ash tray sitting on the side table. Without offering a single word, Carmy digs his hands into both of your thighs and starts slamming his hips into yours. Sounds of skin against skin echo against the walls.
“Shit! Fuck, Carmy—“ you moan, not even trying to control your volume. “I can— I can feel you in my stomach, shit—“ You take one of your hands and press beneath your navel, feeling his cock as it thrusts rapidly into your soaking cunt. “Feels so good, Carm.” You’re blabbering at this point, high on the feeling of him inside you. Your orgasm draws close fast.
“Yeah you needed me so bad that you couldn’t get off without me? Is that it? My little girl needed some help?”
“Yes—“
“Then what do you say?” Carmen is nearing his own high, too. His pace grows sloppy.
“T-thank you— fuck— thank you, Carmy.”
“There’s my respectful good girl. Just needed a little bit of punishment to get her back.” He detaches a hand from your thigh, moving it to your aching clit. He rubs tight fast circles on the bud with a calloused thumb. “Go on, baby. Cum for me. Soak my cock.”
Your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Euphoria floods through your veins as Carmy fucks you through it. You collapse into his body, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. The sounds of your moans and whimpers muffles in the skin of his neck. Your body shakes from pleasure.
Carmy removes his thumb from your clit, not wanting to overstimulate you. You had already been punished enough. His hand rests at the back of your head, cupping it gently. The gentleness of his hands starkly contrasts the way his hips sharply thrust into you.
“Atta girl. Just a bit more—“ he groans, offering you some praise. With a few more powerful thrusts of his hips, Carmy spills inside of you, filling you up with his cum. You both remain wordless in each others’ arms for a moment, trying to catch a breath. Carmy is the first to break the silence. “You happy now?” This time his voice has a hint of laugh to it.
“Mhm.” You kiss his neck. “Very happy. Thank you.”
“I think you know I’ll do anything you want at this point.” He laughs. “Now, can we go clean up and go to sleep? I’m even more exhausted now, baby.”
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vanishingstarrs · 5 months ago
Text
pancakes for dinner ( k bakugo x nurse!reader, pro hero era, established relationship, just soft and pure vibes, down bad bakugo aka my boyfie fr, slight smut at the end, NSFW, minors DNI ) ( guysss i’ve been so sick and i’ve been suffering having to work still bc #hispanic we ain’t eva allowed to call out )): i’ve been wanting to write please please please x bakugo but haven’t had the energy, meantime hope y’all enjoy this little fic <3 just wholesome mushy stuff for y’all but then it turned smutty at the end because why not lol also i’m pretty new to writing explicitly so pls lmk how it came out !! idk if i'll do that again lmao we shall see i guess )
You were exhausted.
Mentally and physically.
Work had been a tad overwhelming lately, with extra things being piled onto your already heavy workload after a big merger between two of Japan’s biggest hospitals, which in turn caused a lot of people to be let go. Not only had it been stressful wondering whether you’d make the cut or not after a “re-interview”, but when you learned that you had been accepted you’d also been asked if you could take on a few extra duties.
You had never been one to back down from work, always taking initiative and being happy to help any one of your coworkers that might need it.
Lately though, it seemed every single person needed help. Your coworkers, your patients, and if it wasn’t those two then it was your boss asking if you could help her with management duties that had nothing to do with the extra work you’d been assigned to do on top of everything else.
You were sick and tired.
Your muscles cried out as you pushed your apartment door open and immediately kicked off your shoes, groaning as you bent down in order to place them onto the shoe stand. You were sure you heard your back crack as you stood straight once more to hang your purse and keys.
You didn’t bother unpacking the lunch you never got time to eat, leaving the bag you packed it in tied up and in the fridge before heading into your bedroom and immediately shedding your scrubs. You hated doing skincare, but thought about how dirty your face must be after dealing with so many patients and dragged yourself into the bathroom to get it over with.
By the time you were finished doing everything, your body was begging you to lay down for just a minute.
A little power nap never hurt, you told yourself as you fell onto your bed face first and sighed. You hugged your pillow to your aching body and allowed yourself to relax for just a little while.
Though “a minute” quickly turned into three hours as the sun went down and the night sky pulled you further into dreamland.
You didn’t hear the front door open or close, you didn’t stir when your boyfriend started removing his hero equipment, much less wake when those heavy gauntlets he somehow wore all day hit the floor or when his pounding footsteps carried across the hardwood as he made his way to your shared bedroom to check on you.
You missed the brief smirk on his face as he found you lying on his side of the bed, on your right side with a leg propped up for comfort.
Katsuki knew how hard you’d been working lately with the merger between the two hospitals and how stressed it made you. With him working as a hero, he encountered many people that wound up needing to go to the hospital. On top of that, you also had all the other sick people that hadn’t been involved in some villain attack. You likely dealt and saved more people in a single day than he did in a month, he knew this, he was proud of the fact, actually, and incredibly proud of you.
He was damn lucky to have you.
And for all these reasons, he was happy to see you rest for a bit.
He’d often come home late and find that you’d already done all the cleaning around the house, as well as meal prep for both you and him, and still found the time to bake desert on top of making him dinner. You went above and beyond in all aspects of your life, often even calling and checking up on his parents when he hadn’t done so in too long. He’d receive texts from his mother scolding him and making sure he was taking good care of you the way she knew you did him, he swore you were the favorite and he understood why you were.
Everyone loved you.
He adored you.
Except he hadn’t been doing his part as well as he should be lately.
And so, while you slept, he quietly changed into some loungewear before carefully shutting the bedroom door closed behind him.
He tried his hardest to be quiet as he went around cleaning up throughout the house, he swept, he steam mopped the floors (and prayed he didn’t miss a spot), he did your laundry, took your work shoes and scrubbed them clean for your next workday, he took your old lunch and tossed it out before setting to work on preparing you something delicious for tomorrow.
Being in the kitchen was actually soothing for him, he liked being able to experiment with recipes and different things for you to try. He hated that he hadn’t made the time to recently. He cooked enough dinner to pack lunch for both you and him, then last minutely decided that you’d definitely want something sweet when you woke up and pulled out the ingredients to make pancakes from scratch.
You liked it best when you had pancakes for dinner, not breakfast.
He was extremely pleased when they turned out light and fluffy just the way you liked them and he set out to cut up some fruit for you to put on top, making sure everything was ready before heading back to your shared room.
Katsuki was less quiet this time around, as he slid into bed next to you. He propped himself up on his elbow as he buried his fingers into your hair and gently scratched your scalp.
You were exhausted, and likely wouldn’t have woken up if not for him leaning over and placing kisses from your neck all the way up to your ear. You felt his hot breath as he whispered for you to please wake up, which made you groan softly.
You’d yet to open your eyes, but who else would it be? You asked,“Katsuki?”
“Made you food, baby, c’mon, I saw you didn’t eat your lunch, you gotta put somethin’ in your belly.” He explained as he removed his hand from your hair and lifted the material of your shirt to rub up and down your stomach, you felt him inch closer to your chest before stopping himself and tugging your tank top back down to your waist.
You turned toward him, quickly finding the divet in between his shoulder and neck to plant your face in. You were barely awake, not really comprehending what he was trying to say.
“Missed you.” You relaxed further into him.
“Missed you so much, sweets.” You felt him kiss your forehead,“Hate to pull you from bed, but you really gotta open your eyes for me.”
You did as he asked, smiling as his face came into view, lit up by the soft light streaming in from the hallway. “Hi, honey.” You managed to get out as he smushed your cheeks (cuteness aggression) and placed three kisses onto your nose.
You grinned as he said hi back and repeated that he’d cooked for you.
You beamed, you hadn’t had his cooking in a while, but didn’t exactly make a move to get up from bed. It wasn’t until he revealed that he’d made you pancakes, that had you up in seconds.
He chuckled as he followed you down the hall, lightly smacking your butt as you happily made your way through the apartment. You turned to him with surprise,“You cleaned too?”
“Course.” He scoffed as he tugged on your hand and sat you down at your small table that sat four people max. “I’d do it more if you didn’t always beat me to everything, I was thinking I should be doing a bit more around here anyway.”
“I can handle it.” You said, like always.
He rolled his eyes as he brought over the plate he’d prepared for you.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t, I’m just saying you don’t have to give a hundred percent every day, you know? You could give me thirty and I’d be more than happy to give the remaining seventy.” He began to explain,“I wanna take care of you too, and that starts by you not doing everything.”
You silently watched him cut up your pancakes before placing some fruit onto them and drizzling maple syrup all over, he gave you tea to drink and pulled his chair closer to you while you ate.
He ran his fingers through your hair again as you told him all about your day before asking about his and what time he’d gotten home. He let you feed him a couple bites of food and you snagged a few extra kisses each time you lied and told him he had syrup on his face.
When you finished, he asked if you’d like a bit of real food, claiming he wanted you nice and full. You agreed, happy to eat what he’d prepared.
You were less tired now, satisfied with your belly full and sitting with your lover as he recalled a story about retrieving someone’s lost kitten in a tree. You laughed at the classic save and felt your mental load becoming lighter the more the minutes went on.
After eating, the pampering continued.
Katsuki demanded you allow him to run you a bath, and he quickly made the bathroom up with a few candles. He set up a movie for you to watch on your laptop as he came into the room with you and offered to wash your hair. You requested he get in with you then, and he obliged quickly, taking his time when it came to massaging his hands through your hair and pressing kisses against your back at every opportunity. He held you against his chest as you relaxed into him.
You honestly started to get sleepy again.
And then it was ripped away from you once more as Katsuki led you to bed, not to sleep, but to have you spread out against the mattress for him to plaster his tongue against you and demand he get his dinner now.
“Wanna take care of you.” He’d said.
He quickly had you squirming and writhing underneath his touch and the feel of his fingers inside as he worked you until completion. He sung you praises about how hard you’d been working lately, telling you how you deserved this and more, as well as making sure you knew how good you always did for him.
“One more, baby.” He begged.
One more turned into two then three, and by the time he finally lined himself up to your entrance you were spent. He worshipped your body, kneading your breasts and holding one of your hands back so you couldn’t hide how flushed your face had become from not just his compliments, but from the way he fucked you.
“Katsuki,” You moaned,“Close.” Again.
“Cum with me, baby, please.”
The movement of his hips was starting to get sloppy, but neither of you noticed through the haze. He whined in your ear as you latched onto his back with your hands and wrapped your legs around his waist, your walls squeezed him and he moaned one last time as he got lost in euphoria. He didn’t make a move to remove himself as he pressed his sweaty forehead against your own and kissed your cheek and then your neck and then your collarbone, making a line all the way down to your bellybutton.
He occupied himself with making sure you stayed awake despite your eyes being closed as you attempted to catch your breath, he sucked hard enough to leave a few marks along your chest and before you knew it you started to feel him become hard inside of you again.
Your eyes snapped open as you gave him a look.
Katsuki smirked as he rubbed your hip and stole your mouth briefly,“Gotta make sure you’re nice and full, baby, one more time f’me, please?”
“You’re insatiable.” You told him.
And yet, how could you say no to him when he looked at you that way?
It was a good thing you’d taken that nap earlier, especially now that your body would soon be aching for a different reason.
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landosjpg · 5 months ago
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Hi lovely, I’ve been thinking about Lando dating a doctor or nurse and she’s been working crazy shifts on a night rotation. They keep missing eachother and when she doesn’t come home one day, he goes to check up on her and finds her teary eyed staring into space in the on-call room because she just can’t fall asleep on her break 🥹
hi beautiful! this has been sitting on my inbox since forever, i’m so sorry 🥹 i hope you’re doing alright and hope you like it!
you had been having a rough week; work had been too busy for the last couple of days —nights, to be precise —and you were struggling to rest during your breaks, the exhaustion seeming to keep you on your toes more than to tire you. despite of how much you loved tour job, it sometimes got a little too much, and it was one of those weeks.
if that wasn’t enough, lando was also home for just a few days after a triple header and you couldn’t make your schedules match, meaning you had barely spent any time with your boyfriend.
he was patient, however, happy with the text and swift calls during your breaks before you hung up to take a quick, very much needed, nap.
but after a few days, you felt a little overwhelmed, your mind too foggy to even think about checking your phone as you got to the call room. you paced to the small, uncomfortable bed without even thinking about it just to try and get some sleep. to get your mind off things for a little while.
lando had stayed up, as he usually did, hoping to talk to you before calling it a day. but when you didn’t reply to his texts or answer any of his calls, he started getting worried about you. he had seen the exhaustion on your face before you left for work earlier that night, and he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if you were alright.
you always texted him, albeit to wish him a good night of sleep. so, stubborn as he was, he drove to your workplace, just wanting to make sure you were alright.
unable to sleep, you barely heard the door opening when he entered the room, too focused on trying to get some rest to be aware of your surroundings.
“hi, angel,” he softly cooed, walking towards you. you looked over at him, your eyes watery and your expression as exhausted as ever.
he felt his heart break at the sight, the worn out look in your eyes a view he wished to never see again.
“you alright?” he asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed, trying not to disturb you.
“just tired,” you answered with a thin voice, shifting a little closer to him. “what’re you doing here?”
“got worried,” he whispered. “you weren’t answering my calls.”
you mumbled a quiet “sorry”, not having intended to concern him when you ignored your phone.
“it’s okay, baby,” he tried to brush it off, gently patting his lap for you to rest tour head on.
silently you complied, his fingers finding their way to your hair as he started to gently play with some strands, the movement soothing enough to have your eyes fluttering close.
“get some rest, angel,” he murmured as he felt your body relaxing slowly. “i’ll wake you up when your break is over.”
and as you drifted off to sleep, you realized that was all you needed.
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milkloafy · 6 months ago
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REST AND RESPITE — DAN HENG
⋆。˚ ❀ summary: dan heng finds himself growing fond of your outgoing and talkative nature. one day, when you’ve holed yourself in your room, he can’t help but worry about you. ⋆。˚ ❀ wc: 1.0k  ⋆。˚ ❀ a/n: shhh i haven’t played 2.1 or 2.2 update yet so dan heng is still chilling in the express to me <3 wrote this while sleep deprived and accidentally made dan heng softer than planned :> 
After the events that transpired at the Xianzhou Luofu, Dan Heng decided he needed the time to rest and reflect. He hoped March 7th and Trailblazer had a successful mission—he would surely join them again soon—but he knew he wouldn’t be giving his best effort if he were to go in his current state.
He decided a few moments of peace and quite would do him some good.
Unfortunately for him, however, you also stayed on board the Astral Express for the next mission. 
Peace, he would still get. Dan Heng enjoyed your presence and the two of you had gotten closer over the years. But quiet… That was another story. Ever since you had joined the Astral Express, the halls wer filled with sounds of your laughter. On the nights you and March 7th had a sleepover planned, Dan Heng found himself needing earplugs, to put it kindly. 
Despite the noise not being his typical preference, he noticed himself finding comfort in the liveliness and warmth you brought. Which is why, when a day came where he did not hear you chatting with Pom-Pom or Welt during your scheduled afternoon snack, Dan Heng began to grow concerned. After only brief contemplation, he walked down the hallway and knocked on your door, your favorite breakfast bar in hand. 
“Y/N?” he called through the wall.
“Oh— Come in,” you said, your voice distant. 
When he opened the door, he saw you curled up on the small sofa inside your room—your conversation area for guests, you had told him. You had a blanket wrapped around you and a slow-paced instrumental piece playing from your radio. 
You waved as you looked up at him with a smile. “Hi there.”
“Hello.” Dan Heng extended the breakfast bar out to you. “I noticed you haven’t come out to eat yet. Thought you might be hungry.” 
Your eyes brightened as you accepted the snack, expressing your thanks with a bow of your head.
“Is everything okay?” he asked once you took a bite. Though you didn’t look terrible, he still was unable to shake his worry. “You have been quiet today.”
You let out a small laugh, though it sounded unnaturally forced. “I’m sure you’re grateful for these few moments of silence.”
“Not when your wellbeing is in question.”
Your gaze warmed as his thoughtful words, patting the cushion next to you and beckoning him to take a seat. He obliged, feeling the warmth radiating from your body as his right arm pressed against you. Dan Heng quite enjoyed the warmth. You offered him the corner of your blanket and he shook his head, smothering a chuckle of amusement. 
Once the two of you settled in, you said, “I’ve just been having bad dreams all night.” You paused, as if deciding how much more you wanted to share. “They were about my time…before the Astral Express.”
Dan Heng nodded in understanding. You did not have to say more. The Express welcomed all types of people, each with vastly different backgrounds. Everyone came from unique places and sometimes they were not the best ones. He was unable to verbalize this feeling of empathy out loud to you, but he hoped you sensed that he was there for you.
“I’m not really thinking about it anymore,” you assured, your tone rushed. “Now I’m just exhausted but haven’t been able to sleep.”
He hummed to himself. You seemed tired, even a bit troubled. Perhaps even someone like you needed time alone. But something told him that, for this particular situation, that didn’t seem to be the case.
Clearing his throat, he spoke up. “If you think it will help, you are welcome to join me in the Archives today. I still have some entries to input, but if you would like some company, I’ll be there.”
You straightened up in your seat, eyes wide with excitement, before a flash of hesitancy crossed your face.
“It…won’t be bothersome to you?” 
“You’re never a  bother,” he said firmly. “Though, perhaps your slumber parties with March 7th while I’m trying to sleep may be.” 
That earned a laugh out of you. “Well, if you joined us one night, maybe you would see the appeal. Even Caelus joins sometimes!” 
Dan Heng smiled at that. “Perhaps you are right.”
You nodded and said matter-of-factly, “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”
He chuckled, happy to see a glimpse of your normal self coming out. Seeing you dejected and downcast was something he hated to witness, though he knew everyone had those moments. They were inevitable, after all. But Dan Heng wished he could always be there for you during those times.
It was natural to feel that way towards a good friend, he told himself. If he said it enough, maybe he would be convinced. 
So why did he feel his heart race when you asked him to help you up from the couch? And why was he glad you didn’t let go of his hand even after you stood up?
Dan Heng wet his lower lip as he glanced at your connected hands. They were not even interlocked—just barely brushing—yet he still reacted in such a way. He looked over at your face and noticed a bashful smile gracing your features. It was a sight he wasn’t exactly used to seeing, but it was pleasant nonetheless. 
Perhaps similar thoughts flashed through your mind about him. Did your heart also race when the two of you made close contact? Did your stomach flutter at his touch? He wanted to ask, but chose to hold back for now. You were distraught and vulnerable from your difficult night, and he thought it was more important to help you feel calm and well-rested first. 
But as he caught you sneaking glances at him before looking away with a coy expression, Dan Heng knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back for long. Still, patience was a virtue and he was confident that it would pay off. 
Soon, he promised himself. Dan Heng caught your eye and this time, you didn’t look away. He smiled and you returned it tenfold. Very soon.
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lucysarah-c · 6 months ago
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“It’s the only extra shirt I got here,” Levi’s voice returned to its natural stiffness as he handed her a V-neck long sleeve grey t-shirt.
“Thanks,” she said with a shy smile while accepting it. Levi nodded as he drank from his canteen. Once she was dressed, he offered her some water, which she accepted.
Exhaustion washed over them as they lay down. His eyes focused on the ceiling, his arms bent behind his head. She lay on her side, watching him.
“What?” Levi's fierce eyes looked askance at her as she admired his side profile.
Her humming negative reply was all he got at first, and then, “Was it… was it enough for you?”
He turned his head to his left. “I came, didn’t I?”
His bluntness was sometimes a blessing and sometimes not. She pouted at the idea. “But… we didn’t…”
“I said we wouldn’t,” Levi quickly picked up the meaning behind her lack of conviction and rushed to reply. “Besides, even if you wanted to, I wouldn’t have gotten my dick in. You’re in your fertile days.”
The knowledge of that affirmation eluded her completely, to the point that she didn’t even know what to inquire about first. She also felt extremely tired as she scooted closer to his frame. Levi took the hint and embraced her with one arm as she rested her head on his chest.
Humming again, this time affirmatively, she somehow understood his point. .. she believed.
“That’s scary…” she whispered after a few minutes, and his attention returned to her.
“What?”
“I don’t know if I’ll do it,” the words had no meaning to Levi, who was trying hard to follow her train of thought as she rambled. “I feel my legs tremble.”
Silence, as if she could hear the gears of his head working to comprehend. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“About jumping,” she said casually.
“Huh?” he insisted, slightly raising up to hover over his left arm to have a better look at her face.
They were both confused—him because he didn’t even fathom what she was talking about, and her because she couldn’t believe that someone as street-smart as Levi didn’t know about it.
“That…” she started her explanation, slightly ashamed like a kid afraid of answering a classroom question wrong. First confidently, then doubts sank in. “That you have to jump ten times after it, so… so you don’t get pregnant?”
Confusion, then realization. Levi’s frowning face as he tried to process what she had just said turned into his normal stoic one, and then he bit his bottom lip. His chest began to shake as he inhaled rapidly through his nose. He began to chuckle, and when his weight fell back onto the mat, he was loudly laughing.
Her disbelief at seeing him genuinely laugh for the first time was mixed with offense. ‘What’s so damn funny?’
Levi kept trying to control his reaction, stopping momentarily, but then he remembered it and laughed again. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he insisted on forming a sentence, but it was just too hilarious somehow.
“Let me get this straight,” he chuckled, “you thought that jumping ten times, not nine, it has to be ten, would magically prevent you from getting pregnant?”
At this point, she was heavily offended. “Well yes!” Her enthusiastic affirmation only made him more entertained.
“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard,” his declaration between chuckles made her pout heavily at him, feeling the embarrassment quickly washing over her. “If it was that simple, brat, I wouldn’t have been born.”
His hand ran through his features as he calmed down, slightly shaking his head with closed eyes as he processed the idea. “God, how fucking bad are surface bastards that women have the energy to be jumping around after getting fucked?”
“Well, that was my question! Because I’m tired!” she complained loudly, feeling she finally had a fair point in this conversation.
To her surprise, Levi rolled to his side and grabbed her face. Her resistance due to her petty anger was pointless because he easily held her. Both hands on each side of her head, he then planted a kiss on her forehead.
“You’re so fucking stupid,” his whisper was fully covered in a thin layer of tenderness.
The pout on her features didn’t cease as his fingers ran down the side of her face; it felt insulting that he was looking at her with such appreciation after laughing in her face. His knuckles caressed her cheekbone so gently.
“Who told you that shit?”
“The girls in the barracks always talk about it,” she confessed, hoping that common knowledge among her companions would erase her ignorance.
“I’ll pull out and we’ll count days, that’s what we will do,” Levi explained.
Probably my favourite scene ever from Holy Ground.
Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out.
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confessionbrain-writings · 5 months ago
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Trouble - Benny Cross
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Summary: As promised, Benny waits for you after your shift to take you on a ride.
Pairing: Benny Cross x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smutty content, unprotected p in v
A/N: So first of all, thank you for the love on Rules. I suggest you read that part first, before reading this. Without further ado, here is part two. English isn’t my mother tongue so apologies for typos or mistakes. I do hope you enjoy! 🧡
Word count: approx 2,6k
The warmth of his palm seeped through your jeans into your skin, and as he started to draw small circles with his thumb, you were gone. You wanted him. And you wanted him badly. You scraped your throat and called his name. “Benny?” He tilted his head slightly, indicating he was listening. “Know that I really like this. Riding with you, right?” You asked and heard the frown in his voice when he replied. “But?” “But right now, I want you to take me home, so I can take you on a ride.”  A strangled noise escaped his throat as he squeezed your leg again. “Y’gonna be the death ‘f’me, sweetheart.”
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Today was the busiest day ever. A lot of folks came to the diner during the day for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Due to a shortage of staff, you’ve been running around all over the place, trying to get everything to everyone on time. You didn’t have time for a break or even think about your conversation with Benny that morning. 
When the last customer left the diner, Mary locked the front door, flipped the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ and let out a heavy sigh, before making her way to you and opened up her arms. “Come ‘ere my gift from God.”
An exhausted smile adorned your face at the compliment, and you happily entered her warm hug. Weariness weighing into the both of you.
“I couldn’t have done it without you the last couple days.” She said. “Thank you, my dear.”
Leaning back, you grabbed her arms and squeezed them affectionately as Mary continued. “I have some news. My sisters are coming over for two weeks and they volunteered to help me out. So I want to give us both the weekend off, so we can recharge ourselves. Whatcha say about that?”
You opened your mouth, but the thought of having the weekend off caught you by surprise. A few days off? Goodness! Finally, time to catch up on some sleep.
“That sounds… lovely.” You beamed. “Thanks, Mary!”
“No, thank you!” She chimed and booped your nose. “If y’wanna finish the tables, I’ll take care of the garbage and then call it a night.”
Nodding your response, you started to wipe down the last tables. The thought of being in your bed within a half hour had never felt so good. You would definitely sleep late tomorrow and then—
“Honey?” Mary’s voice snapped you back to reality.
“Yeah, Mary?” You replied as you walked over to the sink to clean the cloth and wash your hands. Mary frowned and crossed her arms while looking between the backdoor and you. Feeling an uneasy flutter in your stomach, you walked up to her.
“Mary, what’s wrong?” You asked firmly.
She sighed before answering. “There is a biker outside. His name ’s Benny. Told me he’s waitin’ for ya. But wouldn’t be surprised ‘f his second name is Trouble.”
Your breath hitched in your throat and mentally slapped your forehead. Benny was waiting for you outside. Due to the chaos, you totally forgot about him, but with the mention of his name it was like a wave of adrenaline washed over you, making you forget about the exhaustion in your bones. 
A knowing smirk appeared on Mary’s face when she saw your shocked expression, you being too tired to control it. She stepped forward and cupped your face.
“I’m not blind, girl, and I know that look. Also, Benny isn’t hard on the eyes, now is he?”
“Mary, I—“
“Shh, dear,” She patted your cheeks. “All I can say is, be careful. But most importantly, have fun.”
Your eyes widened at her words. Was she serious right now?
“Oh don’t look at me like that,” she shushed and gave you a playful shove towards the backdoor. “I’ve been young too. Now go!”
You were greeted by the cool evening air, the breeze lifting a few strands of your hair, making them dance around your face. You’d quickly changed into a light denim jeans and black top before stepping outside, and adjusted the deep-brown jacket around your shoulders before you spotted Benny. And gosh, the sight of him made your heart beat like crazy. He looked even more attractive than you remembered. 
He was leaning casually against his bike, while taking a drag from his cigarette. As you made your way to him, his eyes focused on you and let them roam shamelessly over your body. And you would’ve lied if it didn’t add something to the pleasant flutters in your stomach.
“Hi.” You greeted him and a grin spread on his face. He released a breath of smoke and stared at you just like he did this morning. Inside you were trembling, but you forced yourself to keep your ground, trying to look cool and unbothered.  
“Hi.” He replied and crushed the cigarette bud under his boot. “Y’look stunnin’.”
Was it possible for him to see your heart beat furiously against your ribcage? Cause it definitely felt like it.
You hummed at his compliment, but didn’t respond to him, but asked instead, “Is it fast?”
Benny followed your gaze to his bike and tilted his head. “Wanna find out?” Without waiting for your reply, he sat himself down and kick-started the motor in one go. Well, add that to the list of kinks, because that was hot as hell.
You breathed out through your nose and took place behind him, your legs bracketing his frame.
“Hold on t’me, sweetheart.” He told you over his shoulder, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. Well, he didn’t need to tell you twice. You bit your lip and let your hands roam over his sides, taking your time so you could feel him out, before ending at his stomach. And heavens above, what did this man feel good. 
Benny smiled and shook his head while muttering ‘trouble’, probably not expecting you being this bold. He petted your hands, but left them where they were.
“Don’t let go f’me.”
Before you could reply, he took off. And damn, it was fast. You’ve never been on a bike and the speed caught you off guard. Out of reflex you tightened your grip, pressing yourself firmly against his back and you could’ve sworn he let out a satisfied hum. 
The town passed by in a blur. Benny didn’t care about the red lights, since he just ran straight through them. Usually you would’ve said something about it, but it was late and there was practically no one on the road. Besides that, this new experience was way too exhilarating. 
Adrenaline pumped through your veins. The wind yanking your hair from your face and tears started to form in your eyes. Especially after you arrived on the open road. Benny sped up, which earned him a tiny yelp from you as you gripped him harder. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him smirk. Mentally, you shook your head. Show-off. 
Time passed - or more like, flew - by and you started to get used to the speed and the fact that you sat on a motorcycle behind a handsome man. You embraced the feeling of the bike beneath you, the warm and soft back of Benny against your breasts. Feeling a tingle low in your stomach, you adjusted your hands a bit, so one hand was on his lower stomach and the other above it, feeling how his chest rose and fell as he breathed. 
You started to feel bold and added some pressure, feeling the contours of him even better, making you swoon over him. A small grumble escaped Benny, and you suddenly felt his left palm on your knee. The warmth of his palm seeped through your jeans into your skin, and as he started to draw small circles with his thumb, you were gone. You wanted him. And you wanted him badly.
You scraped your throat and called his name. “Benny?”
He tilted his head slightly, indicating he was listening.
“Know that I really like this. Riding with you, right?” You asked and heard the frown in his voice when he replied. “But?”
“But right now, I want you to take me home, so I can take you on a ride.” 
A strangled noise escaped his throat as he squeezed your leg again. “Y’gonna be the death ‘f’me, sweetheart.”
Just a few seconds passed between getting off the bike, to the moment Benny had kicked the front door shut, and had you pressed against it. Placing his palm next to your head, leaning in, and grabbing your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. 
Without wasting another second, he hungrily pressed his lips against yours. You fisted his shirt and pulled him in. The build-up tension from before and on the ride were taking over. Both of your hands grabbed, stroked and squeezed each other. Tearing at each others clothes, while your lips met over and over again. And boy oh boy, what was he a good kisser.
Blindly your hands cascaded over his chest to unbuckle his belt, only breaking the kiss so Benny could take off his shirt, while you kicked off your shoes. Benny taking your shirt off right after as he kicked off his pants, leaving him in his boxers.
The both of you panted heavily, taking a split moment to admire each other. It was very clear that Benny was aroused and the sight of him added even more to the already throbbing pulse between your legs. 
You placed your hands on his pecs, feeling how his heart was also hammering, and guided him to the couch. The back of his knees met the seating, and before he even completely sat down, you were onto his lap. His hands found the globes of your ass, kneading the flesh which subtracted a moan from you.
Benny’s hand snaked to your nape, treading his fingers through your roots and tugged. Another moan escaped you, while meeting his darkened gaze. He dragged his nose along your cheek to your neck where he kissed you just below your ear. A sudden bursts of goosebumps broke out all over your skin and you gripped his shoulders, the sensation making your gasp out his name.
“Benny!”
He chuckled and swiftly unhooked your bra, leaning back a bit so he could admire you. His lust-filled eyes took you in, his mouth slightly agape and looked back at your face, shaking his head lightly. Not believing how incredibly you looked and felt on him.
His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer so he could close his lips around your nipple. You dug your nails into the skin of his biceps, leaving small crescents from the exploding sensation when he flicked his tongue over the erected bud, licking and sucking. It was like Benny had you under his spell. Your hips started to grind onto him, wanting more, more and more.
Your hands made their way down, stroking his hard cock over his boxer, electing a groan from him. “Oh, baby,” he said huskily. “Y’re so beautiful.”
The words set your skin aflame. “I want you so bad, Benny.” You whispered and slid your hand under the fabric, skin meeting skin. It was like something within Benny snapped, because before you knew it, his boxers were off and he dragged you forward, so you were grinding on him directly. The only boundary between you were your panties. 
“Y’have no idea how bad I want you.” he replied and snaked his hand between the two of you. A desperate moan left you as he stroked your throbbing clit through your panties and you bucked your hips at him. 
“Y’ready, baby?” 
“Please!” You begged, feeling like you were about to jump out of your skin. He skillfully moved your panties to the side, not wanting to waste any more time to get them off, and dragged his fingers along your wetness. You were definitely ready.
Benny replaced his fingers with his cock, feeling the tip of him pressing against your entrance. You lifted your hips and looked at him. His intense gaze locking you in as you slowly sank down.
His brows furrowed as you sank lower, reveling in the sensation. Your eyes fluttered close as a wave of pleasure washed over you. 
“Eyes on me.” He breathed, guiding you up and then down again. A desperate moan bubbled out of your throat as you started to ride him, while trying to hold his gaze, but he felt so good that you couldn’t help but let them close for a second.
You jumped a bit when you felt Benny’s broad palm firmly grabbing your jaw. “I said, eyes on me.” He repeated and somehow his voice got even lower. A burst of pleasure flooded you at the dominance in his voice. Snapping your attention completely to him. 
Numbly you nodded at him and started to move your hips, your hands found their way on his shoulders for leverage. You shuddered when you felt his hands move down your waist, resting them there and supporting you as you kept rolling your hips, feeling him in all the right spots. 
The sounds of slapping skin and moans filled the room as you upped your pace. You felt his grip tightening, guiding you down on him with every buck of your hips. Pushing all the way in and out. All the while, while holding his gaze. Blue, lustful eyes held you under his spell, feeling like he could look right into your soul. 
And the noises he made.. they almost felt sinful. You’ve shared the bed with men before, but most of them weren’t that vocal, but Benny on the other hand.. He didn’t hold back the grunts and moans as you rode him so deliciously. Only that could’ve send you over the edge.
Slowly your legs started to tremble, both from pleasure and exertion. You moved your hands back to his neck, grabbing his hair at the base and leaned forward, your lips ghosting over his ear. “You fuck me so good, Benny” you said and emphasized your words with pressing your lips at the curve where his neck met his shoulder. Benny cursed at your words and the way your lips felt, feeling you suck his skin.
He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest, relieving some pressure from your straining legs and started to take over the pace. You held him tight and couldn’t stop the moans and pleas leaving your lips as he started to pound into you at a feral pace. Benny fucked you so good, it made your toes curl.
The new position electing even more pleasure from you. With every thrust his pubic bone met your clit, making pleasure pound through your veins. It didn’t take you long at all and just before you came, Benny pulled your head back, so he could look at you.
You really tried your best to keep your eyes open, but when your orgasm washed over you, you couldn’t help but close them. Reveling in the intense sensations as you threw your head back and moaned out his name in ecstasy. 
His grip returned to your waist, thrusting through your orgasm and with a few strokes he grunted out your name. Your eyes snapped open and you were just in time to witness how his face displayed his own pleasure. His jaw unclenched, mouth open and his sweat-covered brows bunching together. Feeling how his nails dug into your skin, which you could swear would leave some marks later on, but you couldn’t care less, and lifted you up, pulling out just in time before he came. 
Your whole body tingled and you let out a satisfied hum. Benny’s attention was back on you, and you watched how your sex-drunk smile was mirrored onto his face. 
A comfortable silence stretched between you. Benny reached out and tucked a string of hair behind your ear. The gentle gesture made you shiver.
“What y’re doin’ this weekend, sweetheart?” Benny broke the silence and licked his lips. The question was so casual, almost making you forget you were on his lap, naked and sticky with cum and sweat. 
“Actually, I have the weekend off. So I’m free.”
“Good,” he started and let his eyes roam over you again, before continueing. “Y’wanna spend it with me? Let me take you for ‘nother ride?”
A smile tugged at your lips, leaning forward. “I like that, Benny.” You whispered and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I like that a lot.”
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Leave some 🧡 by a comment or reblog, would love to hear what you think and if you like to read more!
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ur-local-anti-hero · 7 months ago
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Back to december
Remus Lupin x reader
Summary: Remus feels like he will regret that night the rest of his life, the marauders convince him to do something about it.
Genre: Hurt/comfort, Second chance romance
CW: Remus being self-destructive and questioning his worth.
Word count: 1.8K
This is part of my Speak now (Marauders' Version) collection.
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“So this is me swallowing my pride standing in front of you, Saying I'm sorry for that night. And I'd go back to December all the time
It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you. Wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine”
Remus sighed, his eyes were fixed into someone across the great hall. He was sitting with the marauders at their usual place, his fork was playing with the food in front of him, he hadn’t been able to eat ever since that night. 
“Come on mate, tell us what’s wrong. You’ve been sighing the whole dinner.” Sirius’ voice made him turn to him, seeing his three friends looking at him with worry written in their faces. 
“Nothing is wrong, I’ve already told you” Remus replied with the same excuse he had been using for days.
“Yeah and that’s why you’ve been looking at Y/N like a kicked puppy for the last week” James retored. “Tell me again, why did you two break up?” 
“How many times are you going to ask me that?” Remus sighed, tired of repeating the same conversation over and over with his friends. 
“Until you tell us the truth” Peter urged. 
“I’ve been telling you the truth, we wanted different things, the relationship wasn’t working” 
“Remus” Sirius’ voice was stern, and the lack of a nickname while referring to his best friend was jarring. “You two were the epitome of love, I had never seen you smile as much as you did with her, like, never.” 
“It’s hard to believe you, not even a day before you broke it off you were looking at her like she was the best thing that had ever happened to you. Your words, not mine.” James insisted. 
And he was right, Remus had never been as happy as he had been while dating you. The choice of breaking things off had been all his. He loved you so much it was terrifying, at some point all he could think about was how long he had left before you realised what he really was and you left him for someone better. You deserved someone better. 
“I really hope this has nothing to do with your monthly problem.” Peter’s voice was low, only for the four of them to hear. 
Remus couldn’t help it, he stiffened. Peter had nailed it and he wasn’t ready to let his friends know about how deep his insecurities really run. But, they noticed his frame changing from exhausted to on guard, Remus didn’t even say anything before the rest of the marauders understood what had happened. 
“Is that true Remus, did you break up with her because of that? I thought she already knew?” Sirius asked quietly, his previous anger now replaced with symphaty.  
“She knows now, and it doesn’t matter, just drop it. I’m done with the interrogation” Remus snapped at them before getting up and leaving the great hall, leaving his friends with dumbfounded expressions behind. 
───✥───
Lily meant well and you knew it, but if she kept asking you if you were okay you might explode. 
“How are you, Y/N?” Lily asked you, for the fourth time in the last hour. 
Ever since Remus had broken up with you Lily had been sitting next to you through all the meals, leaving her boyfriend's side, and afterwards she would walk you to your dorm. You appreciated her company and her friendship, but she was also a constant reminder that things were not as they were before, and therefore she was a constant reminder of your heartbreak. 
“I’ll be fine” was the answer you settled for every time she asked.
“I talked to James.” Lily hesitated before speaking “Are you really okay? He told me why you and Remus broke up…” 
Your eyes widened at that, if James had really told Lily about your break up that meant Lily knew about Remus being a werewolf, and as far as you were concerned he had never pushed her out of his life as he had done when you had been the one to bring it up. 
“You knew about…that?” you decided to keep it as vague as possible in case James had made something up to stop Lily from asking more details. 
She nodded “Ever since fourth year” 
“Did he tell you?” You needed to know, your hands were now shaking and your heart was racing. 
“No, I figured it out. Just like you did '' Lily's words calmed you down a little, if he had been able to confide in Lily but had never felt safe enough to tell you it would’ve made you feel awful. 
“The moment I brought it up he cut me off, we didn’t even have the chance to discuss it. He just broke up with me.” It was the first time you were being honest about it, and it just made everything hurt like if Remus was breaking up with you all over again. 
Lily stepped closer to you before wrapping you in a tight hug, her arms stroking your back in an attemp to comfort you. 
“I think you should talk to him, try to make things right again.” she whispered. 
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, he probably doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.” 
“Somehow I doubt that.” 
Maybe Lily was right, but you would never be brave enough to even try to prove her right.
───✥───
After storming out of the great hall Remus had locked himself in his dorm, he didn’t want any of the marauders to give him a speech about how he couldn’t let his lycanthopy affect his relationships. Because it had already affected the most important one he had. 
But of course his friends wouldn’t grant his wishes. 
“Remus, let me in, I want to talk with you. Please” Sirius was nothing but persistent. “Come on Moony, you know I’m not leaving.” 
Remus sighed, he’d been doing that a tad lately, but decided to let Sirius in. He wasn’t going to give up anytime soon, and he preferred to talk with him alone and not wait for James and Peter to join Sirius. 
When he opened the door Sirius didn’t waste a second and barged in, going directly to sit on Remus’ bed. 
“Oh, yes of course, make yourself at home on my bed.” Remus scoffed at him. 
“Come sit, Moony” 
Remus didn’t have the strenght to fight him, so he walked towards his bed and sat next to Sirius.
“What happened when she found out?” He wasn’t going to waste any more time. 
“She confronted me about it, asked me why I hadn’t told her.” Remus said sadly 
“Was she judgemental, was she scared or disgusted?” Sirius inquired, he knew you well, and you weren’t anything but lovely and understanding, being disgusted by Remus’ lycanthropy was not something he pegged you to be. 
“I didn’t give her the chance to really express what she thought of it” Sirius gave him a look of encouragement for him to continue. “I broke up with her before she could say something.” 
“Why?” 
“I think that if she had rejected me at that moment I would have never recovered from it, I was terrified.” He said, his words showing a rare vulnerability. 
“Do you regret it? Not giving her a chance. Do you really think she would’ve hated you?” 
“I regretted it the moment she walked out of the door, but I couldn’t risk it” 
“I think you should give her the chance, talk with her.” Sirius patted his shoulder
“If she didn’t hate me then, she defintely does now. She deserves better.” 
“I believe it’s not your call to choose what she does or does not deserve, give her the chance.” 
Maybe Sirius was right. 
───✥───
The Gryffindor common room was not very crowded after curfew, usually only a few seventh year students were spotted working on their class work after being kicked out of the library. 
But these days you would only find comfort on the couch in front of the fireplace, even if it was not a substitute for Remus’ warmth during the cold nights of december, it was the best you found. 
The quiet crack of the wood being burned and the weight of your blankets lulled you to sleep, your eyes were closed and your breathing slow, you were finally falling asleep when the weight of another body made the couch shift. 
“Y/N '' your name was called very quietly, barely above a whisper, but you could recognise the voice anywhere. 
“Remus” your eyes opened and you sat up, straightening yourself
Remus was sitting right next to you, far enough for his thighs to not touch you, but close enough for you to be able to read his expression in the dark room .
“Can we please talk?” He was fidgeting with his hands, clearly nervous of how this conversation was going to go. 
You hugged yourself before nodding. Then a beat of silence 
“I’m sorry.” you both said at the same time. Another silence took over the room before you both chuckled awkwardly. 
“I’m really sorry Y/N, I shouldn’t have cut you off like that. I was scared and I was impulsive, I know I can’t excuse my behaviour, and you don’t have to forgive me but I needed you to know.” He took a deep breath before continuing 
“I have never felt what I feel for you before, and only the thought of you leaving because of my lycanthropy terrified me. And the moment you confronted me about it I thought it was better if I was the one leaving. But I regretted it the moment I saw the tears in your eyes, and when you walked out of the door all I wanted was to take my words back. And I regret it every time I see you across the great hall instead of next to me. Words can’t begin to show how sorry I am.” 
Remus was now crying, he wasn’t the only one, your eyes had started to water the moment he started talking. You took his hand on yours before speaking. 
“It’s okay Rem, I forgive you. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I would hate you for being you” you said sincerely. 
There was a brief moment of silence in which you looked each other in the eyes, they were filled with tears, but also love. You swore no one had ever looked at you like that before.
"Can we try again, please?" He asked 
You didn't even answer, throwing yourself at his arms, which embraced you with the familiar warmth you desperately craved. 
"I've missed you so much, please never leave again" you sobbed into his chest 
"I won't, I promise" he said, placing a kiss on your temple. 
Maybe Remus should listen to Sirius' advice more often if they were going to help him get the love of his life back. 
Author's note: I'm so proud of this one I think it's super duper cute. I'm also dying with uni work at the moment, wish me luck, love u all <33 Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and very appreciated To be part of the taglist Dm me or send me an ask <3 Series' taglist: @feral-posts @izuoyarmin @aremuslupinsimp @yourfavgay @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo 
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davidtennantgenderenvy · 11 months ago
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On David Tennant and Aging
So, I’ve seen a lot of posts in response to Tumblr users’ habit of affectionately calling their favorite middle aged dudes “old men”, David Tennant in particular, saying things like “clearly you’ve never met an actual old person”, “omg you talk about these guys like they’re 80”, “please be normal about people aging”, etc. And on one hand, all of these statements are objectively right and true! But as someone who’s always been really fascinated by and found a lot of beauty in getting older (which I’ve explored in some of my writing on A03 because nobody else is going to do it for me), I’d like to provide a bit more nuance on how I think this label applies to David in particular.
David, obviously, in literal terms, is not “old”, at least not to me- I don’t personally consider people old until they get past 60. 52 is middle aged, simple as that. And yet, when I see David stuck with the “old man” label, it still somehow feels weirdly right, for a number of reasons.
It annoys me so much when people say David “hasn’t aged a day since Doctor Who”, because, well…
Tumblr media Tumblr media
He clearly has. A lot. He’s got forehead creases, deep crows’ feet and eyebags, and I think that post-Fourteen we’re gonna see him rocking the grey temples a LOT more. He also has the voice of an older man now, his upper range is still there but the default is much more deep and rich, with a gravelly, rumbling quality that just goes straight through you. I personally think Broadchurch was when David finally started to embrace looking his age- Alec Hardy just wouldn’t have been served by Ten’s fresh-faced boyishness.
Obviously, these are the kinds of changes you’d expect any 52-year-old man to have, but something about David just makes it all seem a bit more… intense? The expressiveness of his face combined with his almost gaunt frame makes his wrinkles very prominent, and when he works his voice to its emotional extremes, his lower register can sound positively ancient, to devastating effect.
David, I think, is someone with an old soul- I don’t think he could be as good as he is at playing ancient characters like Crowley and The Doctor if he weren’t. He has lived so many lives, given so much of himself to so many characters, often incredibly tragic ones, and I think it wears on him. David also has five kids. FIVE. Do you know how exhausting it is to be one of the hardest working actors alive and be a present, loving father to even ONE child? But David somehow does it anyway! Nowadays I see him and my heart breaks because he looks so tired, so weary and fragile. But he’s all the more beautiful for it to me because I know that that is because he is kind. He’s a deeply empathetic person who feels and lives to the absolute fullest, and that story is written so clearly on his face, along with every other story he has ever been a part of.
There’s other things about David that make the label endearingly fitting- his utter hopelessness when it comes to technology, for instance. And he’s just got that warm, wise, grandpa energy too sometimes- look at that above Fourteen picture and tell me I’m wrong!
I once showed my friend who’d only seen David in Doctor Who and Harry Potter a picture of David from Around The World in 80 Days. It was a particularly emotional scene, and his face had just the most beautiful expression of compassion and sadness, every wrinkle on full display. And she said, in a less than complimentary fashion, “he looks so old!” Which, of course, offended me quite a bit at first. But to me, referring to David as old almost feels like a badge of honor, something he’s earned by living fully and selflessly, working hard and being wise and compassionate beyond his years. I think David himself is secretly more than a little insecure about the fact that he’s getting older. There’s sadness behind every jovially self-depreciating remark he’s made about his age in the past year, particularly in comparing himself to Ncuti Gatwa. I know how much David struggles with his impostor syndrome and how people perceive him, and I can clearly see in his eyes the fear of being discarded, the anxiety he feels about if he’ll still be as loved as he was back in 2007 now that he’s closer in age to King Lear than he is to Romeo. So I hope David knows it’s a privilege to watch him grow older, to watch his soul and talents deepen with the crinkles around his eyes. If I, in my silly goofy tumblr girl-ness, call David Tennant an old man, it’s because it’s a label that suits him beautifully- even if it isn’t TECHNICALLY an accurate one yet.
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p0orbaby · 7 months ago
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Cream Crackered
summary: being a phd student is not for the faint of heart
warnings: none, well tiredness? does that count?
a/n: based on this request. im also suffering from a hefty case of writers block so if this is awful, i apologies to all involved
word count: 1.1k
-
You’ve been burning the midnight oil for weeks.
As a PhD candidate in molecular biology, your days and nights blur together in a haze of research, experiments, and writing. You’re exhausted, running on fumes, but you have to push forward. You have to finish what you’ve started.
One evening, as you’re hunched over your computer, frantically typing away at your latest chapter, there’s a knock on your door. Startled, you look up to see Alessia standing there, concern etched on her face.
“Alessia?” you croak, your voice hoarse from lack of use. “What are you doing here?”
She steps into your cramped apartment, taking in the sight of scattered papers and empty coffee cups littering every surface. “I haven’t heard from you in days,” she says softly as her eyes scan your exhausted form. “I was worried”
You force a tired smile. “Just… I’m trying to finish this dissertation before my defense”
“You haven’t slept either, have you?”
“Is it that obvious?” You force a laugh, a weak little thing cut off by a large yawn. Gosh, you were tired.
She places her hold-all down on the floor, the one you were too tired to initially notice, before coming to stand over where you’ve stationed yourself at the dining table.
She nods, concern etched across her features. “Yes, it is,” she replies softly, her hand reaching out to brush a wayward strand of hair away from your face. “And it’s not healthy. You can’t keep pushing yourself like this”
You lean into her touch, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you despite your exhaustion. “I know,” you admit quietly, the weight of fatigue settling heavily on your shoulders. “But I need to get this finished”
Alessia hums, a low rumble in the quiet of your humble abode. “I thought you might have said that”.
Before you know it, Alessia leans over you and slams your laptop shut. Snuffing out the light of the screen in one smooth move, leaving you blinking and confused.
“You’re done for the day” she deadpans.
It all catches you off guard a little if you’re being completely honest.
“Wait, what? No, I’ve only got a few thousand words left” you protest, trying to prise your laptop open again. But it was no use, a perfectly manicured hand was keeping it closed, and you were too tired to fight her on this.
Looks like you're tapping out at homologous recombination.
Alessia gives you a firm look, an expression that leaves no room for negotiation. “You need rest, more than anything else right now”
You slump back in your chair, defeated but also secretly relieved. Deep down, you know she’s right. You’ve been pushing yourself to the brink, and it’s not at all sustainable.
With a resigned sigh, you nod, finally conceding. “Okay, okay. You win. But just for tonight”
Alessia smiles softly, “I’ll make you some dinner,” she offers, already heading towards the kitchen. “And then you're having a bath because no offense baby, you look like you could use one”
The truth hurts, you guess.
-
"So, tell me about your day," Alessia prompts as she rinses the shampoo from your hair.
You relax further into the warm water, gratefully leaning back against her. "It was hectic, as usual," you begin, recounting the events of the day with a sigh. "I spent most of it in the lab, running experiments, analysing data, the usual”
You feel her nod behind you. "Sounds intense," she comments, her fingers working wonders on your scalp. "Did you make any progress?"
You hum to confirm you had, a sense of pride swelling within you despite your fatigue. "Yeah, I think so. I managed to replicate some promising results from a previous study, which was a relief”
"That's great!" Alessia exclaims, kissing along your shoulder and up your neck. "I'm so proud of you”
You feel a warmth spread through your chest at her words, a sense of validation that you desperately needed. "Thanks," you say, settling into her further, then asking her the same.
As suspected, her day was filled with training and game strategies and business meetings, a routine you’re familiar with but nonetheless always interested to hear about.
You start to doze as she talks, not because you’re bored, but because this is the first time you’ve felt relaxed in days.
It’s only when you hear the water slosh and she shifts behind you that you realise your eyes have closed and your head has lolled against her shoulder.
“C'mon you, let’s get you to bed before we both get colds”
You blink, gradually returning to awareness as Alessia’s words register. With a gentle nudge, she encourages you to rise from the bath, the cold air hitting you before she wraps a towel around your shoulders.
You offer Alessia a sleepy smile, feeling the weight of exhaustion in your bones. “Thanks for looking out for me,” you say softly, gratitude laced in your words as you nestle closer to her.
Alessia returns your smile, her eyes warm with affection. “Always, my love,” she replies, brushing a strand of hair away from your face with gentle fingers. “You know I’ve got your back.”
You nod, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you at her words. “I do,” you murmur. “And I’ve got yours too, always. Even more so when my every thought isn’t consumed by nondisjunctions and point mutations”
“That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said” she teases, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“I can keep going? What about horizontal gene transfer? Or chromosomal segregation. Any of that doing it for you?” you jest, raising a suggestive eyebrow in her direction.
She just rolls her eyes and pushes you gently through to the bedroom.
“Come on, you know you love it when I talk nerdy to you,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows.
She chuckles, shaking her head in amusement as she grabs some clean pyjamas from the dresser. “Usually, but right now, I think we both need some shut-eye”
You pout playfully, feigning disappointment. “Spoilsport,” you mock, reaching out to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her closer.
Alessia laughs, gently extricating herself from your grasp to pull back the duvet. “Hey, sleep is important,” she informs. “You of all people should know that”
You relent with a sigh, knowing she’s right. “Fine, fine,” you give in. “But you’re missing out on some riveting conversation”
So riveting in fact that you're yawning again and leaning into Alessia's touch as she helps you get dressed and tucked into bed.
Sleep, yes. What a splendid idea.
Alessia gives you a knowing look, “I think I’ll take my chances,” she says, before snuggling into bed beside you and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.
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