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#they sneakin them in
akatsukiofthestar · 9 months
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I very much forgot to post this, but after seeing the Barbie movie... Its them!
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eggs-can-draw · 1 year
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hi dumb messy little fic thing
Silence. The boys are in a shitty car Hajime was given by the Future Foundation. One Izuto Kamukura is sleeping silently in the backseat with a Hajime-sized red hoodie draped over him haphazardly.
Things are wordlessly tense. Despite the smaller boy showing no signs of waking up anytime soon, Hajime can feel what can only be described as the watchful eye of a predator stalking it’s prey.
“…Hinata” Izuto murmured, voice cracking from a clear lack of use.
“OH uh…morning?” Hajime responded, unease creeping it's way into his tone.
“It’s 12:56”
Hajime turns to the car’s broken clock, it's cracked screen barely glowing at all, let alone displaying the time.
“How can you — oh uh, yeah”
Silence slowly gripped the small car once again, it's claws making it almost hard to breathe. That is, until Hajime once again heard a noise from the backseat.
“Is it like you wanted?”
“Huh?”
“You were in the reserve course. You mentioned you used to be fixated on talent and more specifically, your inherent lack.”
“Oh, yeah, you were watching the game with her, weren’t you”
“You would be hard pressed to find someone who didn’t watch the game.”
“Hahah yeah, Junko was… a lot of things, but she definitely seemed to have had a strong effect on others. I mean, you have Mukuro and whatever was going on there, and you have the remnants—“
“You’re avoiding the question”
“What?”
“I asked you a question. I expect an answer”
“Oh yeah uh…I guess? It’s a lot more pressure then I thought it would be” Hajime couldn't help but let out an awkward laugh, his own desperate attempt at lightening the tension that the two had been drowning in.
“Elaborate”
“Why are you so interested in this? I thought everything was boring to you, Mr. God-among-ants.”
“Those are Enoshima’s words, not mine. You intrigue me, Hinata. I want to learn more about you and your psyche.”
“How am I interesting? What, are you gonna make fun of the octagon thing?”
“You’re a fellow Ultimate Hope, it’s only natural for me to want to investigate this talent in the wild. It’s hard to use yourself as a test subject for something so rare. Be glad I haven’t decided to dissect you yet.”
“Har har, good joke mr ultimate comedian”
...
“If you’re going to ignore my initial question, I have decided to move on”
“…ok?”
“What do you think they’re going to do with me?”
“What?”
“This is the second fastest route to the Future Foundation’s headquarters. What do you believe your superiors will do when you hand me over.”
“Oh well…they’ll probably put you on trial, and hold you accountable for your crimes.”
“Despite your overall...lack of abnormality, you’re smart, Hinata. You read the reports on what the academy did to me, and you know just how many of that staff was carried over to the Future Foundation. I was built to be a weapon. Do you truly think they could allow such a powerful resource to rot in a cell?”
“Well…”
“What do you think they’ll do when they get their hands on the remnants?”
“Wh-“
“What will happen to them, Hinata?”
“I-“
“What will happen to Nanami’s friends?”
“I DONT KNOW”
Hajime didn't mean to yell but it came out that way despite his intentions.
Silence ensues. Hajime assumes that Izuto has fallen asleep and lets out a sigh. He focuses on driving them for a while. That is until he hears an odd noise come from the back seat.
“Kamukura, what—“ he looks back to find tears falling from Izuto’s face
“I’m-” His voice gets caught on the way out.
“I’m scared, Hajime”
“I…”
Hajime turned to look Izuto in the eyes, he had never before seemed so. mentally present.
“…I won’t let them hurt you”
“…”
“Or the remnants.”
Izuto looks up at him, clarity shining through his eyes for a flicker of a blink of a moment.
“I promise”
“….”
Hajime turns his attention back to the road but he finds himself struggling to focus. They sit in silence for a beat. Izuto's voice is startlingly clear as he flatly states:
“If you truly want to keep your promise, you should watch where you’re driving”
“Wh—OH MY GOD”
Hajime then sharply swerves the wheel and very VERY narrowly misses one incredibly pissed Nagito Komaeda
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dingleshartbeaufoy · 3 months
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Augustin is an insanely good shot too bro in the tutorial he murked like 5 fuckin soldiers and was like “lol don’t worry princess I gotchu get to the rendezvous” wtf
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fruitcage · 1 year
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majimassqueaktoy · 1 year
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No offense but they need to give every man in this series a little kid that follows them around like a lost duckling. Especially Ichiban.
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juesha · 8 months
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plot wishlist: due to a misunderstanding, he thinks yanq*ing has started to experience his first teenage romance and is going full dad mode over it.
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lizthewriter · 6 months
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that's my man / theodore nott
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PAIRING  theodore nott x studious!fem!reader
SUMMARY  you're exhausted from finals studying fatigue, so theo helps you to bed. (blurb)
TAGS  theodore nott x studious!fem!reader, caring!theo, loving!theo, fluff, comfort
QUOTE  "life was a willow and it bent right to your wind, / head on the pillow, i could feel you sneakin' in," - willow by taylor swift
WORD COUNT  350
WRITTEN  11.17.2023
You hummed softly to yourself, slowly dragging your feet up the stairs. Theo stood dutifully beside you, one hand hovering behind your back and the other keeping a hold on your arm. Finals fatigue had hit you hard and he didn't want you harming yourself by falling down the stairs out of exhaustion.
"Just a few more steps, love, you're almost there," he assured you, his tone soft and gentle. His dorm was not too far away, and soon he's be able to get you in bed to finally get some rest. It had been an absolute pain to try and get you out of that rubbish desk chair and into bed these past few days. He thought he had been studious - that was before be met you.
Finally, you found the final step and trudged towards his dorm with half-lidded eyes. He pulled on your arm gently, slowing you to a stop. Before you had any time to whine about the sudden stop, he swooped you into his arms. With one arm swung under your knees and the other, your neck, he easily carried you into his dorm and placed you down on the bed.
He didn't mind taking care of you like this - especially when you spent most of your time taking care of everyone else but yourself . . . normally him. He took off your shoes, placed them at the foot of the bed, and grabbed a blanket to wrap around you. Soon enough, he too was lying down in bed with you, arms pulling you into his chest.
"Thanks Teddy," you mumbled softly, your voice muffled by the way you were buried in his knit sweater and blanket. Your fingers wrapped around the collar of his shirt, pulling him as close to you as you possibly could. "Love you."
He couldn't help the love-lorn smile that grew on his face - he kissed the top of your head ans then rested his against your own. All was tranquil, quiet, and there was only comfort in the presence of one another. "I love you too, my love."
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fyorina · 3 months
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ᡣ𐭩 SNEAKIN' A PIC (ATTEMPT: FAILED)!
FEATURING: fyodor dostoevsky
SUMMARY: you never get to see him like this. is it really so awful that you want to capture the moment eternally? evidently to him, it is. (wordcount: 1.4k; sfw; fem!reader)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: i'll never not make fun of that one panel of him sitting at his computers with his greasy ass hair even if he does look like a pretty princess in every other panel he has. my obsession with naps is being translated into my fics, i already posted a nikolai one posted and also have a dazai one in the drafts HAHA
When you wake up, you feel a weight on your bicep. Your brows furrow a bit in confusion, glancing to your right to where your arm is extended across the bed, but then your eyes fall upon Fyodor, fast asleep and using your arm as a pillow, and you can barely stop the small smile that rises to your lips.
Your arm is numb, but you don’t dare move in fear of waking him up—the clock on your nightstand reads nearly eight am, and you wonder when he finally came to bed last night. You know that he’s been pushing himself day and night to finalize the last parts of his plans, denying himself both sleep and food as he sits at his computers dealing with meetings and preparations 24/7. 
He hadn’t even changed into a pair of pajamas before falling into bed with you, nor had he bothered to get beneath the covers. a part of you wonders if he even meant to sleep, or if he’d just pushed his body too far and only barely made it to the bed before it gave out on him. 
It wouldn’t be the first time. 
You bite back a sigh as your gaze traces over the stubborn man—he always looks delicate in his sleep, in a way that he never does when he’s awake with his eyes shut and his long, dark lashes brushing his cheeks. His expression is the picture of serenity rather than the cold and unapproachable face he wears when he’s awake. 
You think that he’s pretty all the time, but there’s something special about being able to witness Fyodor Dostoevsky in his most vulnerable moments, knowing that you’re the only one he allows to be with him in them. 
You’re half-tempted to reach over to your nightstand with your free hand to try to grab your phone and snap a picture of him. You look over, wondering if you can reach it without jostling your other arm around, but before you can even consider your chances, you hear: “Do not.”
Fyodor’s voice is still thick with sleep. you glance over at him, surprised, but his eyes are still shut, and he hasn’t budged an inch. You wonder if you imagined it, but then his eyes crack open, thin slivers of purple glaring at you.
“Just one for me?” you ask quietly. “No one else will see.”
“No.”
You pout softly but roll back to look at him. He still looks exhausted, the bags beneath his eyes are dark and heavy, and he can barely even hold his eyes open. You reach out, cupping his cheek gently and watching as his eyes slide back shut, a soft exhale spilling from his lips as he lets the side of his face sink back into your arm, dozing back off.
You smile lightly, shifting forward a bit to press your lips to his forehead, stroking his cheek lightly with your thumb.
“I need to get up,” he murmurs, but his eyes are still shut and his voice is thick with sleep. “I need to finish-“
“You will not finish anything adequately in this state,” you chide gently. “If you get proper sleep, you’ll be much more efficient and effective.”
Fyodor looks as if he wants to argue, brows furrowing at your words even with his eyes shut. You only jostle him a bit closer, watching as he shoots you an irate look, but then settles down when he realizes you’re only dragging him closer so that he can rest his head on your chest—a place far more comfortable than your arm.
“Wake me up in an hour,” he finally orders, and you agree absently, knowing that you absolutely will not.
You think, as Fyodor lets himself doze off on your chest, that it’s hard to remember he’s quite literally one of the most dangerous men on this planet. That if he so pleased, he could activate his ability and kill you without a moment’s warning. That he’s a man who is so terrifyingly intelligent that it sometimes comes across as prophetic, and you can’t help but wonder if he speaks the truth when he claims to be led by the Hand of God. 
Your hand smoothes across his back in steady circles, tilting your face down to press your lips to the top of his head. His hair is a bit oily, as he usually lets it get when he deprives himself of basic necessities while he works. You’ll have to convince him to take a bath with you when he wakes up, but you figure it’ll be a battle because you already convinced him to sleep in a little longer, he’ll not want to waste any more time. 
You almost want to pinch him, wondering why everything with him has to be a war when it comes to taking proper care of himself. He rarely even remembers to take his iron supplements on the daily without your prompting, and he knows if he doesn’t take them, he’ll be prone to dizziness and fatigue. For all of his intelligence, you feel like sometimes that you’re a mother dealing with a stubborn child, not your lover. 
“Stop that,” Fyodor sighs, shifting a bit to get comfortable. “Dim your thoughts, dusha moya. I can feel you getting yourself wound up.”
You scowl. “You know, Fedya, maybe you should just drop the whole terrorist plot and become one of those preachers on the radio who pretend to be prophets. Build yourself a cult, make some money. You already seem to know everything, wouldn't be too hard."
Fyodor tilts his head up to look at you, expression so deadpan and unamused that it nearly makes you snort, but you only dip your head down to kiss between his eyes.
"Sleep,” you say, voice softer. “You need it.”
Fyodor doesn’t respond, and when you tilt your head to the side to look at him again, you find that he already dozed back off again, shoulders rising and falling steadily underneath the arm you have wrapped around him. 
You smile lightly and you tighten your arms a bit as Fyodor lets out a puff of air in his sleep, turning his head to lay the side of his face on your chest. In this position, you can see the way his eyes flit beneath his eyelids rapidly, his brain still running rampant even in sleep.
You bring your fingers to his hair to card them through the dark locks, slow and soothing in the way you know he likes, watching as his eye movements slow and his body relaxes into yours. 
Your smile widens a bit before it abruptly falls, laying your head back against the pillow as you finally begin your next challenge: drawing out a battle plan for convincing Fyodor to take a bath with you when he wakes up. 
You sigh to yourself heavily, knowing well that you're about to be facing the most difficult argument of your life with the most stubborn man alive. You can already feel the headache, and you think that you deserve a new picture for your lock screen from how much trouble Fyodor gives you on the daily, but as you side eye your nightstand again and try to calculate whether or not you can reach your phone without waking him up, you feel fingers wrap around your free hand.
You gape in disbelief as you look down to see Fyodor grab your hand in his sleep, as if he knew what you were planning even when not conscious.
Unbelievable, you think bitterly, plan entirely thwarted, but your gaze softens at the sight of him fast asleep on your chest, clutching your hand with one of his.
Maybe you don't need a picture, you realize, because you think there's no way you'd ever allow this image to fade away from your mind.
Still, you think he should severely reconsider his line of work.
Even more so now, in fact, because there is something entirely abnormal about his seemingly perfect foresight, evidently flawless even in his sleep too.
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So confused again. Happy, but confused. Maybe a bit too many details about the....dynamic me n Mr. V have in here but I just gotta get the thoughts out somewhere.
He met up with Silk a couple of nights ago n since then has been...really good to me? The way he was before I fucked it up? I don't know why. I thought it'd be just another one of those quick ones to get him off n make sure he's still got me hooked, but he still hasn't gone back to bein mean again.
He's usin all the pet names he used to, too... It'd been so long. I guess he didn't wanna call me that when he was upset with me, but I'm finally his perfect little doll again. He keeps tellin me he loves that I was made for him n that I feel perfect. That I'm all his n he's gonna take care of me.
It feels so good but I still worry it's a trick n he's gonna get cruel again soon.
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swordsandholly · 28 days
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Across The Way
Ch. 2: And So It Begins
Retired!Ghoap x fem!plus size!Reader
MDNI
Ao3 | Previous - Next
Word Count: 2.6k
Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.
A/N: I got this out a lot faster than I thought I would. Hopefully my work doesn’t get too insane and I can get the next out in a timely manner - it’s going to be a bigger one!
“You were right.” Simon carefully cuts through the loaf with a serrated knife. He’s never lost his skill with them, despite their uses becoming increasingly more domestic over the years. It’s charming, in a way - the juxtaposition of where they started and where they are now.
“Right about whit?” Johnny asks.
“She is a pretty little thing.”
“Donnae tell me I need tae be worried about ye sneakin’ off at work.” He jokes. Simon would never, of course, but it’s fun to see the way his cheeks heat up at the implication. Without his mask he wears every expression with reckless abandon.
Simon settles his large frame into the seat across from Johnny at the dining table. It’s small, they don’t need much. The chairs always creak under Simon’s weight in an almost threatening fashion. He pushes a plate with two pieces of the bread and some eggs over to Johnny. There’s an odd tug in his chest when he picks up the slice - an urge to be gentle as he spreads butter over it. Gentility is not a compulsion he feels often.
“S’good.” Simon mutters around his bite.
Johnny nods along after taking one himself. There’s love in it - he can tell. A piece carefully crafted with only absolute perfection in mind. How strange that food can carry such a feeling.
“Was a wee bit worried we’d be stuck across from the nicest, worst baker in the world.” He mutters.
Simon huffs out a half laugh.
~~~
Your first week goes by in a blur. For a small town they sure do manage to keep you busy. It’s good, you remind yourself. Better than none. If you keep it up at this rate you’ll be able to hire help by the end of the summer quarter.
By Monday, the first day of your “weekend”, you’re overdone. Head dizzy and body exhausted, you spend the day in bed. It’s a gratifying exhaustion, one you hope to build more of a tolerance for. As of now, though, you elect to remain deeply buried under the covers.
When you wake for a second time the sun is already near setting again. The entirety of Monday slunk by with you in bed. You grumble to yourself angrily like an old man. You wanted to unpack today - to at least get your clothes and kitchen items put away.
“Stupid.” You grouse. At least you still have time to shower, you suppose.
As you stand the world blacks out for a moment, your body swaying in place. You allow yourself to fall back on the bed, sitting while your vision slowly comes back into focus. Blinking away black dots and off squiggles that dance across your eyes. On attempt number two you manage it, making your way to the bathroom.
The work is worth it. The pain is worth it.
This is what you always wanted, after all.
You are happy. You can feel it in your bones. They’re lighter than they used to be - your whole body thrums with excited energy even as you have to lower yourself with the upmost care into the shower seat. Even as you have to scrape one of the cheap fold out chairs you managed to get over to the stove while you cook a late night dinner. Thank god for low counters.
When you were arranging your schedule it took a while to get it perfected. To compensate for your body you have to have time to rest and be able to do a lot of baking preparation before the work week starts. Monday and Tuesday are for rest. Wednesdays are for prep. The shop is closed but you’re in the back working your ass off mixing and kneading and shaping doughs. As well as practicing new recipes you want to add to the store’s line up eventually. Your goal is to sell American biscuits, preferably in batches of six, but those take a lot of work and don’t keep as long. They’ll have to wait until you have hired help.
It’s all chance and whatever you can manage to make happen. You learned to be okay with that, though.
You’ve got plenty of spoons, you tell yourself. Just need to use them wisely.
When you finally close the fridge, now fully stocked with dough ready to proof and bake, you check the clock. It’s still the early afternoon. You finished sooner than you assumed you might. The thought makes you giddy - makes you feel accomplished.
It makes you feel normal.
As you exit into the warm spring sun you take a moment. Ever since you arrived you haven’t been able to just stop. To just take everything in - let the foreign air fill your lungs and the aura of the town sink into your bones.
It’s a lovely little main street that you’re located on. The building to your left is a large family owned pharmacy (very convenient for you) and to your right is an empty brick building. It looks like a former post office, but from what you know the current post office is a few blocks down beside the grocers. It’s quaint, the lot of it.
Your eyes settle on the shop across from yours housed in a simple brick building painted white. The upstairs is an apartment much like yours, you think, but from what you know it currently remains empty. The sign above the door reads A Cut Above the Rest. You wonder if that was Simon or Johnny’s doing.
Would it be weird to go in? You suppose not, after all they came to yours. It’s only fair you give them some patronage as well. Plus you need to ask how the bread was. Hopefully they liked it - you realized halfway through the night that you didn’t even ask if they like sourdough before shoving it into their hands.
That thought kept you up later than you’d like to admit.
You look both ways down the street. This particular spot doesn’t have a crosswalk but the road is so dead even when the downtown is busy you figure it’s worth risking. The lack of danger doesn’t stop you from fast-walking across, though.
The shop’s old-fashioned door bell chimes prettily as you push it open. For a butcher it smells extremely clean - almost clinical. It’s small, with an L shaped display counter and a register at the end nearest the door. Packages of sausage links and the like hang on displays across the back wall. Beside the wooden saloon doors that lead behind the counter is a little dog bed with a very well crafted name plate reading Riley hanging right above it.
So cute.
“Afternoon.” Simon appears from the back, wiping his hands on a rag. You jump a little, so lost in taking in your surroundings you forgot what you came here for.
“H-hi!” You smile. You forgot how intimidating Simon is. His gaze levels you - pins you underneath him like a fly under a swatter. Maybe that’s a bit dramatic. “I thought I’d come check your shop out and ask how the bread was?”
“It was good.” He replies bluntly. Totally monotone. The corners of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly. You decide that’s it’s a smile - whether that’s the reality of his expression or not.
“It’s really nice in here.” You look around. There isn’t much for decoration. The walls are too covered in menus and diagrams of cuts to leave room for anything extra. There’s a shelf of odds and ends opposite the main counter full of high end mustards and condiments. Little things to go with whatever you could think to make out of the varieties of meat they offer.
“Thanks.” Simon nods. “One moment.”
You watch with curiosity and a slight frown as he makes his way into the back. He almost has to duck under the doorway. Old buildings with low ceilings and all that. The place definitely wasn’t made with a six foot plus behemoth in mind. You continue to look around, rocking back and forth on your heels. They have a perfect score on their inspectors plaque. You might not know Simon well, but he seems the type to be absolutely precise about everything. The score doesn’t surprise you.
Yours is almost perfect - some rules are different here than in the US. Next time, you swear you’ll get it top notch! You look across the street at your shop. You wonder if you made the wrong choice with The Honey Bun. It’s bit much now that you see it from afar but it still makes you smile. That’s what matters, you guess.
Simon comes back out with a small, nicely wrapped package. “You don’t ‘ave any dietary restrictions d’you?”
You shake your head and he pushes the package toward you. Your eyes widen - it’s a great cut of high end beef. Like, really good beef as far as you know. Something you’d never be able to afford even if your business wasn’t brand new. You stare between Simon and the little pack in your hands. “Th-this is so nice but I-“
“It’s only fair.” He cuts you off. “Neighbors, yeah?”
You can’t help the grin that splits your face, eyes misting up despite yourself. Kindness has not been a constant in your life - more of a rarity. Something you had to claw and fight to earn. Being given it so freely but such a taciturn man has you reeling just a bit.
“Thank you… I’ve got to head back but, uh, thank you. Really.” You press the small package to your chest. “Tell Johnny I said hi?”
“Course.” He nods.
“Thanks again!” You grin, giving a little two finger salute before practically skipping all the way back into your dingy little apartment. Happily, you pack away the meat to use later. It’s too nice to just make any dish out of - best to save it for a special occasion. Your first gift in your new life. Best to savor it.
~~~
“Afternoon, bonnie.” Johnny appears in your doorway while you sweep up from the Saturday rush, bell chiming upon his entrance. “Hope I’m not a bother.”
“Not at all.” You smile, resting the broom on the counter. “Hello to you as well, Miss Riley.”
She huffs out a quiet bark in reply, sitting dutifully at Johnny’s feet. You don’t have much experience with service dogs - other than the well known rule not to pet them while they’re working. They were always too expensive for you to get and your condition wasn’t labeled serious enough to warrant financial aid. (Despite the fact that you can, and have, passed out and hit your head on something hard.)
“Can I get you something?” You ask.
“Och, I’m a’right. Just wanted tae stop by an’ say hello before headin’ home.” He gives you that dashing, bright grin. “Simon always kicks me out of the shop at close.”
“He doesn’t need help?” You ask. Surely cleaning up a butchers shop is a huge task. You have your work cut out for you with all the flower - you can’t imagine cleaning that amount of blood and mess.
Johnny shrugs. “The cleaning chemicals trigger my migraines.”
You hum. “Well, you’re always welcome to stop by. Actually,” you turn on your heel, “I’ve got somethin’ I’d like you to try, if you want.”
“Never one to say no to food. Especially from a pretty girl.” Johnny says as he follows. He tells Riley to stay in front and she listens - the perfect little lady that she is. You nearly trip at his comment, keeping your back turned so that he hopefully doesn’t see the heat spreading from your face and down your neck.
“I-it’s, uh, you ever had American biscuits?” You ask, praying he doesn’t notice the shake in your voice. You have to get on your tip toes to reach the small basket you made the day prior - carefully lowering it and pulling back the gingham cloth you wrapped them in.
An image of home.
“Aye, had them once on a layover at some chain diner.” He nods. “Donnae think they were fresh, though.”
“Well these are proper biscuits.” You carefully cut one in half with ease. “Sometime I’ll have to make you some gravy to go with.”
“Yer gonnae make us fat, hen.” Johnny chuckles.
“There are worse things to be.” The words come out more defensive than you would have liked. An automatic mechanism - a harshness you've honed over the years.
You hate how easily you wield it, sometimes.
Johnny leans forward over the table, a furrow in his brow. “I dinnae mean-“
“Here.” You cut him off and hold out the biscuit on a napkin, smothered with butter in the middle.
Johnny lets your interruption go. Probably happy for an out. He takes the fluffy baked good slowly, cupping it in his large hand with care. You wonder if he always does that, touches things with such gentle love. Is it learned? Is it just natural to him? Does he touch Simon like that? Gentle caresses?
What’s that like?
Johnny takes a massive, enthusiastic bite. Somehow his blue eyes manage to sparkle even more, grinning as he chews. “Sh’gew!”
You laugh at his attempt to talk around the food. “Glad you like it.”
He swallows roughly. A full body gulp. “Why’d ye start bakin’ anyway?”
“My grandparents raised me.” You fold the biscuits back up in their little basket. “My grandma taught me how. She was the best in town - won the pie contest almost every year.”
“Tha’s lovely.” The smile he gives you is so genuine it makes your chest constrict.
“Mean old bat but she could beat anyone in the kitchen.” You laugh. “We swore she had some kinda magic. Like a green thumb but for cooking.”
“My mum’s like tha’. Can make anythin’ out of nothin’.” He nods along.
You fall into an easy back and forth - never breaching anything deeper than the most surface level of content as he eats. It’s manageable. Johnny doesn’t push and neither do you.
Riley barks from the front of the shop.
“Och, tha’s my queue.” Johnny brushes off his hands and checks the front of his shirt for crumbs. “Take care, aye?”
You smile. “You too.”
~~~
Johnny’s words keep ringing in your ears. You don’t know why. It’s nothing special. There’s no reason to attach to them. You raise a hand to wipe off the fog and stare in the small mirror hung above your bathroom sink.
Pretty girl.
You scoff. You’re not a pretty girl. You’ve never been a pretty girl. Fat girl. Stupid girl. Sick girl. Tired girl. Sad girl.
That last one you’ve heard more than anything else. Out of all the descriptors of you it stands out as the most used. By everyone from teachers to your own family. Always just a sad, sad girl.
You got it from your mom, they’d say. It’s not like you would ever know.
You rip your eyes away from the mirror and try to let the thoughts melt away as you sink into the comfort of your blankets. Those thoughts live back on the other side of the Atlantic. They don’t get to follow you here.
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oneforthemunny · 2 months
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I heard something about angsty fics around here? Am I right? I'm not sure about the plot, but it has to be cowboy eddie!
Pretty please. Something about sweet girl keeping a secret, but a totally innocent one, just to not concern him. But he found out accidentally, and all was a misunderstanding. He talked to her really harshly, accusing her of cheating and not being trustworthy. Something like that plz plz plz
"Thanks, Gare. I think he's gonna love it." You whispered, cradling the landline to your ear. You could hear the creak of the screen door followed by Eddie's heavy boots on the wood floor, heart skipping.
"I gotta go. Thank you. Talk to you soon." You slid around the kitchen wall's corner, slipping the phone back on the hook as silently as you could, wincing at the small click of the phone settling.
"Hey, honey." You greeted, slinking towards Eddie sweetly. "You done already?"
Eddie grunted in response, stripping his socks, tossing them in the laundry room.
Irritation consumed you, though you tried to mask it. Eddie had been so moody lately. You assumed it was because of his birthday. He always got weird around his birthday, which is exactly why you were determined this year to make it a good one.
"Are you hungry? I kept your sandwich in the fridge, since you didn't come in at lunc-"
"-Who were you on the phone with?" A piercing, furrowed brow gaze met yours suddenly. Canopied by matted curls from a day's work, you could still see the deep lines on his forehead, furrowed.
"What?" You chirped, eyes wide, round in caught surprise. Shit, he'd heard you. How the hell had he heard you? You'd been so quiet, so careful, wanting to surprise him. The look of pure shock, it would be priceless.
You expected to see his lips curl in a smirk, shake his head at you, tell you something along the lines of, "c'mon, baby, can't get anything past me, y'know that".
It never came.
Instead, Eddie's eyes flashed in fury- hurt. Nostrils flaring in a deep breath he tried to swallow down, tried to keep his anger from flaring.
"Who were you on the phone with?" Eddie gritted, an eerie steadiness to his tone that had you shuddering, stomach twisting in fear.
"I-I was- I was just calling to check on my prescription." A stuttering of a lie fell from your lips, nails digging into the palms of your hands. "Just calling to see when I needed to go into town to pick it up-"
"-Y'know," Eddie huffed, standing to his full height, looming over you. "If you're gonna fuck around on me, you could have the decency not to do it in my home."
My home. The words, the tone of his voice, it sent icy waves of fear down your spine. The last time Eddie had called the home "his place" was before you moved in, since then it had been shared with the two of you. Our home, our place, ours.
"What?" Your own brows furrowed this time. "I'm not fucking with you-"
"-No, no, no." Eddie shook his head, taking a striding step towards you. "That's not what I said. I said fucking around on me." There was a beat, your face falling in hurt, his steeling in fury. "Because that's what you're doin'? Aren't you? Fucking around on me?"
"Are you out of your goddam mind?" It was your turn to scoff, angry and insulted. "Did Medusa kick you in your fucking head or something?"
"Don't!" Eddie's voice boomed, hand smacking against the doorframe, a loud echoing of a hit. You stilled, eyes wide, he'd never been this angry- not with you at least. Not at you.
"Don't you come in my fucking house, fucking around on me when I've done nothing-nothing but love you!"
"I'm not fucking around on you, Eddie! Christ, have you lost your mind?" You shouted back, taking a furious step towards him, the two of you in a stand off. "I mean, what is the matter with you? You think I-I'm cheating on you?"
"You think I'm stupid?" Eddie sneered, jaw tight. "You sneakin' around, makin' phone calls all day? Runnin' off into town? I might be a lot of things, honey, but dumb ain't one of 'em."
"You are dumb." You snapped bitterly. "Stupid, even. If you think I'm cheating on you. What the fuck is the matter with you?"
"Who is he?" Eddie's hands gripped the door frame. "Huh? I deserve to know. Who is he?"
You gawked, baffled, furious, embarrassed. Eddie thought you were cheating? Cheating? How did something so kind, so thoughtful that you were trying to do for him, backfire to this? It made you feel hurt, insulted.
"Who is he?" You scoffed. Eddie's face didn't move, expression not softening, not falling. You could feel the burn filling your chest, your nose, suffocating you.
Stomping over to your purse, you flipped it upside down, dumping the contents of it out. There, amongst the change and hair ties, you snatched the receipts you'd shoved to the bottom of your purse. Business cards, a small neon invitation, and wadded receipts from the party stores, balling them in your hand, flinging them at Eddie's face furiously.
"You want to know who I've been talking to?" You sneered, watching Eddie scan the receipts, face slowly falling as he read the item- a birthday cake written confirmation note order with the small note added, "Happy Birthday, Eddie!" in red piping. The date for next Saturday, his birthday.
"I've been on the phone with Gareth." You spat, trying to swallow the tears already brimming your waterline. "I've been sneaking around and trying to plan you a surprise party, because I wanted you to have a good birthday for once."
Eddie felt sick, a wave of nausea crashing over him, head spinning in a dizzying ache. A small invitation, "Shh! It's a secret!" in bold, funky lettering on the invitation, Gareth's address written below.
"Oh." Eddie croaked. His eyes met yours again, though this time, he wore the rounded look of shame. "I, um, I-I didn't me-"
"-You're a fucking asshole." You spat, blinking through tear stained vision, stomping up the stairs in a hurt fury, ignoring his cries and pleas that you cut off with the slamming of the bedroom door.
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wildandsmile · 7 months
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❖─✦『✙ Popsicle ✙』✦─❖
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Summary : Bakusqaud reacting to reader licking a popsicle in front of them
Tw: N/A
Kinks: Fingering, Growling,Exhibitionism,Breeding, Cream-pie, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v) , Oral (F and M reviving) and Rough sex
Wc: 1.5k
An: Happy Day 8 of Kinktober (srry guys I didn’t know Denki and Mina weren’t showing but don’t worry I fixed it)
Enjoy!
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Bakugou
He does his best to avoid glancing at you while you tease the tip of your popsicle with your tongue, resisting the urge to stare.
You'll catch him sneakin' glances at you, and being the sweet girlfriend you are, you try to share a little bit with him but he always huffed at you and said no.
Eventually, he'll be like, "Hurry up and just eat it up! You're making a mess in my room," or some kinda lame excuse.
But what totally drove him wild was when you began licking the bottom of the popsicle, all the while getting your hands all sticky and sweet.
Sometimes, when you felt bold, you'd let out a soft little moan or two when the melting popsicle grazed your skin.
"You're doing that on purpose, aren't you?" Bakugou asked as he pinned you to the bed, his knee pressing into your clothed cunt. "What are you talking about?" you ask, but your words are cut short when you feel his teeth sink deep into your neck. You could feel his hot tongue lap at the bite mark he'd just created, and as he growled into your neck, he said, "You know exactly what I'm talking about." You tried to pull away, but were stopped by Bakugou's hard hands pinning you firmly into the bed. "O there's no getting out of this one slut, you teased me all damn day with that popsicle now it's my turn" he says as he slips his hand to the hem of your pants, he pulls them down. He then rubs his hands over your clothed cunt, creating a wet spot to appear on the middle of your panties. Bakugou simply glances at you with a broad grin before saying. "I can't wait to turn this little cunt and your brain to mush."
Kirishima
Kirishima never beat around the bush when it came to his feelings and desires for you.
As he spotted you, looking all sultry, fanning yourself and sensually licking a popsicle, he couldn't resist but saunter over to your irresistible allure.
Approaching you, he locked eyes and whispered the most jaw-dropping words you could ever dream of.
He didn't hold back, his voice echoing loud and clear, making you wonder if the whole world could hear the daring words he spoke.
"I wouldn't mind you sucking my cock like that pretty girl"
And that's how you ended up on your knees in an alleyway with Kirishima in front of you. As he unbuckled his belt, liberating his cock from the confines of his jeans, he gazed down at you and you stared up at him. When you removed it, it flopped around aggressively in your face, his tip crimson and oozing with cumin. "Suck." You leaned closer, shyly licking the tip of his cock. You gathered all the cum that was dripping off of it before putting it in your mouth and swirled your tongue around it. He gasped and gripped your hair, driving more of his cock into your wet lips. You gagged him, and he whimpered, his hips sputtering. You gave him as much pleasure as you could, pressing your tongue against the vein that ran along the underside of his cock. "Fuck, baby I could do this all day" . He groaned, taking laborious breaths and occasionally grunting. After a while, he began pushing into your mouth, utilizing you as a pleasure hole. Your filthy moans and gagging just encouraged him to fuck your face, slamming his cock into your throat with each vicious thrust. He thrust around five more times before stopping and holding your head down, forcing you to deepthroat him. He kept his dick in your throat for seven seconds before pulling it out. You quickly gulped for air, drawing it greedily into your lungs. "Fuck... that's good girl." You did an excellent job for me, princess. “Now turn around and let Daddy take real good care of you”
Sero
Sero often tiptoed into the mischievous realm, occasionally feigning innocence, but you saw through his act like an open book.
While you were visiting his place on a scorching summer day, savoring your popsicle, you couldn't help but notice Sero's gaze shifting from you to your icy treat.
At that instant, you could read his thoughts plain as day; it was written all over his expression. So, feeling mischievous, you decided to playfully tease him.
Before long, you found yourself toying with your popsicle, running your tongue along its edges and sensually swirling the tip, all while locking eyes with him.
You could sense that it was driving Sero wild because soon enough, you both ended up in Sero's room, your clothes nowhere in sight, and the popsicle forgotten somewhere along the way.
You couldn't run away from his teasing hold since your legs were resting on his shoulders."It's time for your punishment Mi Amor ," Sero says, pressing his lips into your wet folds and licking lengthy laps with his tongue, causing your legs to close and your lips to separate, prompting you to groan uncontrollably. He was soon caressing your puffy clit with the tip of his tongue while his fingers softly worked with your slicked folds. "You like that, don't you Mi Amor, you like when I fuck dumb on my tongue, don't you?" Sero says as he inserts his tongue deep into your cunt curving it in just the right area to curl your toes and have you seeing stars. You tried to push yourself away from Sero as you felt a knot in your stomach, but he stopped you with one sharp smack to the ass, causing the knot to come undone. "That's right, Mi Amor, you take your punishment and enjoy it," Sero stated as he slowly licked up your juices before drawing you in for a sloppy kiss that had you clinging to him even tighter."Come on Mi Amor we're not done yet"
Denki
Much like Sero, Denki had a penchant for mischief, and when I say mischief, I mean the naughty kind.
The moment his eyes caught you indulging in your popsicle, his mind went into overdrive, racing with impure thoughts.
"Hey, Spark, why don't you come on over here and taste my sweet treat ?" He'd say, flashing the most mischievous grin.
Even after you finished your popsicle, the barrage of suggestive comments from him didn't cease.
Before long, you were ensnared in his devious little game.
Denki claimed he was finished with all his jokes when you threatened to give him the silent treatment, which he began begging and imploring you not to do, and you forgave him after a couple of butterfly kisses and mild shoulder massage. What you didn't expect was him softly massaging your breast, leading you to let out a small gasp as you struggled to rise up, knowing where this was going. But just as you try to walk, Denki stops you and says, "Come on Spark, let me make it up to you please." His pepper kiss was like a drug, making your legs twitch and leaving a wet spot in your panties.You soon found yourself on the couch, your legs wrapped around Denki's waist, your claws crawling at his back as he pumps himself in and out of your overstimulation cunt you can't remember how many times you cum. Because every time he thrust his cock into you, your toes curled and your mind went blank; the only word you could fully form was "Feel so full," which only made Denki's cock harden; he didn't care if there was a white ring around the base of his cock or if you almost looked pregnant; all he cared about was emptying everything he had into you. "Fuck you feel so good can't wait to see are children"
Mina
Unlike the guys, Mina didn't really mind how you enjoyed your popsicle, as long as you didn't make a mess.
Well, at least she didn't mind, until a few days ago.
On a scorching day, the two of you ventured out for ice cream, simply trying to enjoy the moment.
Just as Mina joined you, her ice cream cone in hand, she caught sight of you licking your popsicle, and she couldn't help but think you looked adorable.
It was only when she glanced around and noticed a group of guys ogling you that her frustration started to bubble up.
And that's how you ended up in a bathroom stall, clutching the door for dear life as Mina ripped orgams from you. She knew your body so well that it didn't take long for her to have you wrapped in her arms like jelly. "You're doing such a good job for me, princess," she adds as she presses her fingers against your sweet spot, prompting you to sigh softly. "Come on princess, let those boys hear who owns this body," she adds as she extends another finger, making you feel much more stretched out than before, but just as you were about to come undone, she stops, leading you to turn around and look at her. "I think they know your my cute little princess now so let's hurry home so mommy can make you feel real good," Mina says as she licks her hands clean, not letting a single drop of your juice fall to the floor. You turned away from her, embarrassed that you'd have to walk back outside, but Mina grabbed your arm and dragged you through the store, flicking off every customer who looked your way.
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aerynwrites · 6 months
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Hi! Just wanted to say that I admired your work, and you have pushed me to write again. I hope you have a good day. (Sorry,
a little awkward here)
If you don't mind, I have a request. I always wonder how Gale, Halsin, or whoever you would like to write would react to a Tav that her/their love language is physical touch and/or gift giving (like little crafts and stuff.) Thanks!
ooo i love this idea!! Did it in HC format so I could do both Halsin and Gale (+ Dammon bc I love him lol). I hope you enjoy my friend!
Having an S/O whose love language is Physical Touch and Gift Giving
Gale
I definitely take Gale as someone who loves physical touch but doesn’t like PDA.
So he reserves all his touches for when you all are alone or away from prying eyes.
But he does love it.
He loves when you cuddle up to him when he reads, putting his arm around you and pulling you close as he reads to you.
he also loves holding your hand, intertwining your fingers together.
And he loves kisses.
Kisses to your lips, your cheeks, your nose, etc…
He especially loves leaving kisses to your neck/shoulders when you are lying in bed or just before you wake up.
No when it comes to gift giving, I don’t feel like Gale is particularly familiar with relieving gifts from romantic partners - at least not the small but still meaningful ones.
He keeps anything and everything you give him, always telling you what he likes about it and stuff.
If it’s something he can wear/use you bet your ass he is using it or wearing it all the time.
Halsin
Halsin, as we all know, is not a shy man.
He loves to touch you and doesn’t give a fuck who sees lmao.
He will hold your hand or tug you closer to his side, even kiss you whenever and wherever. He does not care, he just loves having you close and feeling your skin against his own. Even in a non sexual way.
I also know this man loves to cuddle okay??
Like I feel like he runs warm, so at night he probably doesn’t sleep with a shirt on and just has you tucked against his chest.
And he obviously, loves to kiss you just like Gale lmao.
He’s always sneakin’ a lil’ kiss.
When it comes to gift-giving, he loves the little things you bring him.
Whether it be some honey you found at the market or small little malformed wooden figures you tried your best to whittle.
He keeps and cherishes them all, something you don’t find out until you find his little stash in his pack.
If you ask him about it, he just smiles that wonderful smile and tells you he likes to have a piece of you close to him at all times.
Dammon
Okay, possible controversial idea but uh…
I feel like Dammon is a bit touch starved.
Not because he doesn’t like touch or anything but with his home being thrust into he hells and most of his time spent in the forge I just don’t see him spending time much with others.
So when it becomes apparent that your love language is physical touch, he’s a tiny bit lost at first.
But he reciprocates after a while, and soon he finds out he loves that shit too.
He loves to hold your hand, even presses a kiss to your knuckles everyonce and a while, especially if you’re both just lounging around.
I definitely peg him as one of those guys that does the whole “hand on your lower back when he passes behind you” thing and if that doesn’t make you weak in the knees idk what will.
also his tail?? I’m sorry but that man projects his emotions with his tail i swear.
You find it wrapped loosely around your leg a lot when you’re cuddled up in bed, holding you close just like his arms do.
Now, when it comes to gift giving - I think he is more used to being the one to give rather than receive.
so when you first give him a gift he is really surprised and can really only mutter a stuttered flustered thank you.
I feel like your first gift to him might be a new scarf, so even if he didn’t verbalize it well you know he loves it when he wears in nonstop for weeks after you gave it to him.
anything else you give him, small hand made trinkets and baubles, etc… you’ll soon see proudly displayed scattered around his forge.
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br4tphobia · 1 year
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mothers day . ♱ connie springer
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ details + Wc : 2,9k, Plug bby daddy! Connie x fem! reader, written with black woman in mind, idccc connie tanned !!!, connie being a sweet heart 🥹, connie callin the reader hella petnames, snuck in a lil bit of headcannons here n there!! , uses of baby, ma, mama and more, connie sneakin ina lil jokey joke, you/your pronouns used ! (not proofread, forgive me if u see any spelling mistakes.) NS4W + sex w/ some plot, passionate sex, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, oral (r receiving), breeding kink (ig .), fingering (r receiving) marking, missionary, pussy whipped connie !!, creampie and slight overstimulation .
✧˖*° vals note + this was lowkey ass n short (all of my work is) but hey ,, js a lil sumn thats late for mothers day, love everything yall do for yall children !!
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its mothers day. the day where mothers are appreciated by children for what their mothers have did for them. you and connie have been dating for a while, only have one child, ava. life is perfect as it is and you wouldnt trade anything for it .
“boy what are you planninggg !”
your glossy lips pout dramatically, a blindfold covering your eyes and he guides you by your waist. “jus’ know its for you.” you suck your teeth, “well duh .. since you plannin all this shit, where ava?” “dont worry about allat, she with mikasa.” a exaggerated sigh fell from your lips, eager to see what ever hes gonna show you. “bae you scarin me ..” he leaves a reassuring grip on your waist and plants a kiss on your neck. “nothin to be scared about, now watch yo step. we going up the stairs .” “cant watch my step if im blind folded ~” “exactly why im here.” you cant help but feel yourself warm all over, his hands cupping around your waist, smooth tone of his voice, his audible accent.
when you both make it up the stairs which seems like forever, he removes one hand off your waist to open the door, “keep the blind fold on til i say you can take it off .” a small “ok..” leaves past your tongue, you fidget with your fingers nervously — connie doesnt do surprises like that ; but when he did, it was scary. “igh..take it off.” “papi, can you do it.. im nervous.” a small chuckle erupts from his chest, undoing the tie behind your head — before taking it off “ready, ma?” he questions you. you nod your head as a yes quickly, the darkness covering your vision fades away ; the blind fold dropped. your eyes adjust to the dim light in the room, “happy mothers day.” your eyes immediately widen along with a gasp. rose petals along the floor leading to the bed traced into a heart with red ballons reaching the ceiling with pictures of you, connie and ava hanging at the end. designer bags sitting infront of the pillows. such as Chanel, Louis vuitton and prada.
your eyes swell up at the scene. “you didnt..” holding your head up, trying to prevent those tears that’s threatening to fall. he pulls you into a hug, “i did. i love you and appreciate you for everything you did for this family.” whispering in your ear while he rubs circles on your back. “i-i love you too..thank you.” “save those tears mama, lets see yo gifts.” he grabs your arm and leads you to the bed. he watches you intensely as you smile from joy at the gifts, thats all he wants. to see you happy in life. “con..! i swear you’re too good to me!” your pretty face beaming, holding up the beautiful louis vuitton bag. tracing over the LV monogram logo ever so lightly. “you like it mama?” “i love it, baby, thank you. so so much !” his polished whites shine in your face from your response.
laying with him close after opening your gifts you catch him staring at you, the longer he looked at you, the more he fell in love. hell, even if you both are screaming at each other out of anger. “you ok..?” — “you're so pretty.” he's so confident in what he says you hate it, it always folds you. he's not afraid of thinking he's doing too much for you, flat out treating you like a princess more than he does his baby girl. he grabs your chin before your could respond and presses his lips against yours, you kiss back. your hand snaking up his neck, scratching his nape lightly with your solid baby pink nails. he tilts his head to the side to get more access to your lips, his tongue going past your teeth, tongues swirling around whilst he holds you still with his hand on your neck. lifting you up a bit to help you onto his lap. he groaned into your mouth as he pulled you on top of him, straddling his body. your tongues ran over each other so passionately, pulling away every other second to catch your breath.
he utters sweet compliments between every clash of lips, he always knows what to say to you. your plush thighs sit on his with your back arched, the kiss only getting deeper, his hands slid down to your hips and rocked them back and forth. you feel his hard on bump on your clothed clit causing you to moan, gaining the muscle memory of grinding ontop of him, you pull away from the kiss at the pleasure. “jus’ like that mama..” soft groans were shared through the room together from both mouths. til the point where he was leaking in his own pants he turns you in your back, swiftly scooting down to your thighs. he gave you a look of consent, you nod slightly, lowering the band of your shorts that you’ve been teasing connie with all day. his veiny hands pull both your shorts and underwear down in a swift motion.
you let out a light gasp at the cold air mixing with your hot core, you push your thighs together from the cold. “aht aht.. lemme see that pussy, keep those legs open ma..” his hand slid in-between your thigh and part them together. he licked his lips before diving in. he spat down on your core, slurping it up almost instantly. he runs his tongue over your folds, his nose bumping your clit — sending a shock wave to your pit of your stomach. “mm..con..” honey sweet moan fills his ears, your hand resting on his head whilst yours grip the sheets. placing sloppy kisses on your pussy, this man was eating you out like it was his very last meal of his life. slurping, smacking, and gulping down your slick, he knows he can eat pussy and tales advantage of it. “fuck..i love the way you eat this pussy papi..” your voice is breathy, more moans are formed and exhaled out of your mouth.
you rut your hips against his face, your juices running down his face dripping onto the silk sheets. you love seeing connie like this — hungry for you. the way he groans into your pussy at your taste, having his own make out session with your folds ; tongue fucking you ever so deliciously. "im gonna cum baby.." you roll your head back, waiting for your orgasm. every lick and plunge from his tongue brings you closer to the edge – god, you haven’t felt like this for while since ava was born. Everything starts to feel tingly and intense, he was desperate for you. “cmon.. make a mess on my face, mama.” Muttered through his messy mouth full of your arousal, you see white spots as soon as the pit in your stomach boils over. “mm shit babyy!” clawing at his dyed hair, shaking legs, broken moans, all that just by his mouth.
he made sure not to let a drop spill after pulling away, he charmingly smiles against your cum stained thighs, giving them a peck. “still with me, mama?” “ yea..” your voice is breathy, and rasp. Recovering from you recent orgasm, “ight, lift your arms .” his hands curve to your back as you do as he says. The shirt going over your head and dropping them back to your sides. “can I” he looks you dead, then trailing down to your laced bralette, hinting to take it off . “mhm” is your immediate response, feeling his slim tattooed fingers clip your bra of your chest. your nipples harden to the exposed surface of the air, “you gon lemme suck em ?” he raises a eyebrow, his tone teasing. you smile at his idiotic comment “oh my god.. yes…” connie hums at your quiet response, “yes, con. you can.” not even processing your answer he latches his mouth on your nipple like hes some type of leech. the warm wetness of his mouth soaking your nipple, whilst his other hand massages the other one — you let out quiet whines as hes twisting and pinching on it.
“imma prep you, ok, pretty?” hes slightly inaudible but you can still understand. he sliding his hand down your bare body, curving down to your inner thigh. connie collects the leftover slick and slides his lubricated digits into you. your walls immediately pulse around him index and ring, his thumb reaching to rub your clit. “oh my god..” shallow breathes escape, his long fingers massage the inside of your pussy, scissoring, pumping and curling against ; hitting all the rights spots. “just like that baby, oh fuck..” once he feels like hes gave that boob enough attention he switches, his mouth latching on your right one. you find yourself grinding on his fingers, the pleasure too much where you have to push your sticky thighs together, your nipple leaves his mouth with a ‘pop !’
“what i tell you ?” his tone hinted a warning , “to k-keep my legs open..”
“then do it, todays all about you. so let me make you feel good.”
he continues his actions with his fingers, simultaneously reaching up to give you a kiss. “think — you can ,, take me?” he’d push his fingers out through the kisses as you keep coming back for more, “yes, i need you so bad..” “dont say that, imma nut in my pants, mama” he rolls his eyes in resemblance of you. “boy pleasee” he gives you another smile before pulling his sweat pants down, you stop him. tugging on his shirt “take it off firstt” “ight ight,,” his shirt lifts over his head and thrown unknowingly in the room — his tanned abs on full display for you, god knew what he was doing when creating him cause lord.. hes so fine. “now ,, can i fuck you?” “of course.” he lowers the waistband to his thighs along with his PSD boxers. his tip slaps against his toned stomach with ongoing beads of precum oozing out the pretty brownish pink slit of his tip.
“ready, ma?” he says with a few strokes with his then — then sliding his girth through your folds. nodding another yes, he slides in. the wetness of your pussy squelches as he slids in, pretty tanned cock disappearing into your heat. “shit..” you head rolls back, eyes brows furrowing at the small stretch. “i know, ma..but you can take it..i know it.” his comforting words ease the pain, with his hand stroking your face. within a few moments he pulls out til the tip is only left inside you. “you think you can take me?” “yea..” “tell me if its too much.” whispering low, but loud enough for you to hear. he’d raise your leg on his shoulder and push back into you, sliding in and back out. making sure his rhythm wasn’t too slow or fast — from watching your facial expressions and body language, he kept his pace,
"mm.. fuck.." moaning softly, he could listen to your sounds every morning, evening, and night. "thats it mama.. " he lowers his head to the level of your neck, nibble and sucking on your bare skin. visible bite marks and hickeys grew one by one, connie loves marking you. he wants to know youre his, he loves you and wants to be there for you at all times. even when you both are on bad terms. the way his shaft disappears into every-time he rocks back into you. pushing out moans more and more, “look at you.. takin this dick so pretty..” he groaned at the feeling of your getting wetter at his choice of words. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him inches closer than what he already was to collide his lips with yours. tongues tangling beautifully together, moans, groans , and whimpers where the only thing shared along the soft skin clapping.
pulling away from his intoxicating lips, to catch your breath. he moves back down to your hickey, covered neck to add more. whispering how good it is against your neck “fuckk i miss this pussy..” — “got me wantin to nut already..” “mm..” whimpering as he brushes his tip against your cervix again. he angles his hips at certain directions to find your spot, watching your body language once again. His finger tips grazing over your beautiful curves while thrusting into you so sensually as hes laying kisses on your neck. "fuck papi.. faster.." your body squirms at neediness, just for him to obey your request — snapping his hips quicker then before, not too fast nor slow, hed do anything just to make sure you were pleased, in and out of bed! he loves you too much to leave you unsatisfied. “mm shitt !” you breath hitches on how deep he got, bumping places inside you that you couldnt reach with your own fingers, he watches your boobs bounce at the rhythm of his strokes as you grip on once tightly, those plump lips slightly agape to release moans, the crease between your hips and thighs from having your legs on his shoulders.
another moan came from you lips, the volume of them getting louder as he hits your g spot. “right here, ma?” he softly puts his hand over the small bulge re-appearing every other thrust, “y—yes! don’t stop baby.. fuck im g’na cum..” oh, he most definetily wont stop. your back arches from the pleasure, scratching on Connie’s back for some type of stability, leaving scratch marks he would definitely admire in the morning. “cum, mama. nut on this dick.” more thrusts, clit stroking, and groping away from your second orgasm. connie loves how whiney you get before you cum, your high pitched moans and whimpers is the most euphoric thing to hear from you, letting him know that you feel good. “baby..baby im cu—" cut off by a silent moan, his strokes get deeper then — what you thought — he possibly could get. gushing over his length, a white ring forming on it.
"fuuck.." he slows down to prevent himself from cumming too soon, but still allowing you to ride out your orgasm. your voice is quiet mumbling "oh baby"s, your pretty face relaxed with your lips shaped into an O. "feels so.. — fuckin good.." his voice is pitched, head thrown back and eyes screwed shut, still continuing his intoxicating thrust which feels like light shocks from being overstimulated. he looks down to admire your facial features, he cant get enough of you, not even if he tried. "you like that? this dick fuckin you deep?" his voice is slightly hoarse, "yesyes mmhpp" you cover your mouth with your hand to muffle your sounds, not wanting to get louder. "let me hear you." , he grabs your hand and places it your tummy buldge.
"i-im sorry... ohmygodd.. you fuckin me so good, papi.." your wet sounds from your previous orgasms leaving his lower stomcach sticky. "shit..gonna cum mama.." cant help but feel embarassed from being close too soon, but you dont care. you also want him to feel as good as you do. "fill t-this pussy up.." his cock twitching inside your silk walls, “yeah? tell me how much you want it.” thats one thing he loves, seeing you plead for anything from him, probably one of his biggest turn-ons. “so bad baby.. mhpp! make me a mom of two..” Thats all connie hears, two. "thats what i like to hear, mama.." his pace picks up, "s-shit baby..fuck im cumming.."
his breathing quickens before he lets out a drawn out groan of your name followed by a few other thrusts. letting out whimpers at his thick seed sitting inside you before dripping onto the sheets. soon he pulled out, watching in awe whilst trying to catch his breath. "jus’ wait til fathers day. imma make it up to you." refering to everything hes did for you today, "lookin forward to it, catch yo breath. i ain done." "wha..?" "you head me, imma make sure you a mother of two."
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pedrointofolklore · 10 months
Text
This is me trying
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: joel hated you. he hated the risks you took, the danger you put yourself in, the total lack of value you had for your own life. he hated how much he worried about you. click here for part two.
warnings: detailed depictions of depression, heavily implied suicidal ideation, slight violence, angst with a sprinkle of fluff, no explicit smut but it does get very suggestive (minors do not interact), minor character death, enemies to lovers, poor communication, misunderstandings, these fools don’t know how to act, joel is an asshole but then he’s sweet, brief mention of drug use, lots of swearing, age gap (unspecified), no use of y/n, boston era/ellie era.
word count: 2.6k
a/n: hey y’all. i just wanted to thank everyone who supported my last story rosebud (here’s a link if you want to read it). this story is a lot different and a lot sadder. i got the title from my favourite pop girlie taylor alison swift.
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Joel hated you. It had to be his worst kept secret.
You hadn’t done anything to him. You used to think about it constantly, desperate to know what his reason was for despising you like he did, but you eventually accepted that he didn’t need a reason. He just didn’t like you. 
Joel wasn’t particularly likeable himself. He was rude and intimidating and one of the most morally bankrupt people you’d ever met, but you didn’t hate him the way he hated you. You were Tess’s lackey—Joel tolerated you, and you supposed he wasn’t obligated to do any more than that. Although, he didn’t do it very well.
You’d existed in each other’s orbit in the QZ for a while, and finally met one night in the boarded-up old mall when you’d gotten to a stash of painkillers just before them. Joel wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot you between the eyes if Tess hadn’t been there.
Tess saw something in you—not a friend, not a life worth sparing by virtue of humanity; a business investment.
And it was a smart investment. You were young, agile and clever, incredible at slipping by unnoticed and gathering information. You knew all the best routes, the best times to take them, and you could swindle anyone out of their rations just by batting your eyelashes. You were willing to take the lead, to be the first one in and out to make sure the coast was clear.
It wasn’t the threat of death or the promise of mercy that made you join them—it was the sense of purpose it gave you.
Joel was adamantly against it. Things worked fine the way they did them, and he saw no reason to add another person into it.
“Don’t need to fix something that ain’t broken,” was how he’d put it.
You didn’t dispute that. Joel and Tess had survived for years, and they were clearly more than capable of getting the job done, but what you lacked in experience, you made up for in stealth and speed—something their aging knees struggled with.
Tess convinced Joel, which you soon found out she was very good at. You also found out that his compliance didn’t mean hiding his resentment.
He thought you were a careless, impulsive loose cannon, and he’d told you so after a particularly dicey deal with a particularly dicey FEDRA agent.
“You’re gonna get yourself killed one of these days.” He followed you into your apartment uninvited. Tess made him walk you home, and you were sure he only did it because he wanted to berate you.
“Why do you care?” you asked, tossing your keys onto the counter. They slid off and hit the floor.
“You’re with us,” Joel replied. “You'll get us killed.”
You scoffed and rolled your eyes—you knew that infuriated him. “Am I on crack or have you not doubled your profits since I showed up?”
“I think you’re dangerous,” Joel said, ignoring you. “Always sneakin’ around, goin’ places you shouldn’t, playin’ mind games with FEDRA. Your luck’s gonna run out sooner or later, and I just hope I’m not around when it does.”
Your face burned with red-hot anger as you tried to fight the stinging in your eyes and the blurring of your vision, but you were too far gone. The tears fell, and they were ceaseless. You felt pathetic, but you knew this would happen. You didn’t often cry from sadness or pain, but anger always managed to bring it out in you.
“Who the fuck are you to tell me that?” you hissed. “You’re saying you don’t sneak around? You’ve never scammed anyone? You’re a smuggler, Joel! Be fucking real with me.”
“It’s different,” he said, clenching his jaw.
“Why, because you’re older? Because you have more experience?”
“‘Cause I don’t think I’m fuckin’ special.”
If his words were the dagger, the pure contempt in his tone was what plunged it into your stomach, twisted it, and left a gaping hole for all of your despair to come pouring out of, leaving behind a puddle of melancholia for him to gaze at in all its miserable glory.
It was the only time you might have hated Joel as much as he hated you. Working with him and Tess wasn’t perfect, but it was all you had, and now he’d managed to make it all meaningless. Your help wasn’t helping.
“Fuck you, Joel,” you spat.
You should have quit then, and you thought about it. After pounding your fists into Joel’s chest and screaming at him to get the fuck out of your apartment, you sunk down onto the floor and cried. You cried until you ran out of tears and were left with a nothing but a throbbing headache. You took a pill, passed out, and woke up to you discover that you’d lost the energy to really care about any of it.
You didn’t quit. If anything, you became even more audacious, but you never confused it with courage or bravery. Bravery was perseverance in the face of terror. Joel and Tess were brave. You weren’t like them.
Joel laid off after that. He wasn’t anything close to nice, but whatever animosity he held towards you was only ever expressed as quiet seething, and you could live with that.
Any fulfilment you got out of working with Joel and Tess dissolved, but for what it was, it still worked.
Until it didn’t.
Tess was dead. The buffer between you and Joel was gone, and you had no choice but to work together and get the immune girl to Colorado.
You wondered if there was a silver-lining in this wreckage. You thought that circumstance might force Joel to finally get along with you, and so you did the one thing you never did—you tried. You tried to help him, tried to speak to him like he was someone you actually wanted to speak to, tried to rein in some of your more annoying traits so you wouldn’t get on his nerves.
None of it worked. All you could get out of Joel seemed to be irritated mumbles and blank stares, and you couldn’t even blame him after what happened to Tess.
You never really knew if Tess actually gave a shit about you, or if she only ever cared about having an extra pair of hands around. Either way, you cared about her.
So, once again, you tried. When Joel and Ellie were sleeping—or at least pretending to—you walked down to the stream and tried to cry for her, but you couldn’t muster the tears. You even tried to get angry, mentally cuss her out for leaving you behind, but your eyes were dry.
You stared into the water, gazing at the way it sparkled in the starlight, and thought that the world didn’t deserve such a pretty sight. You couldn’t cry, but a deep sadness overtook you, weighing you down like lead.
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Joel didn’t hate you.
He just hated how impulsive and reckless you were. He hated that you were smart, intuitive, and so maddeningly beautiful. He hated the risks you took, the danger you put yourself in, the total lack of value you had for your own life. He hated how much he worried about you.
There was a time he had disliked you. He used to think it was arrogance—that you truly believed you were so special that you could get away with anything. It was when he called you out on it that he realised how wrong he was.
Your reaction was frightening. You cried and screamed at him, pushed him out of your space. He didn’t know you were capable of such a strong display of emotion, but he’d struck a nerve, and those were the repercussions.
He recalled how the blows to his chest didn’t hurt, like there was no force behind them. You weren’t weak at all, you just couldn’t find the willpower to really hurt him. He wished you had hurt him. Maybe getting it out of your system would have helped. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to feel so guilty.
It became so obvious to him what was happening, and he felt like an idiot for not understanding it sooner. It wasn’t that you thought you were special, or immune to the consequences—you just didn’t care what happened to you.
Now Tess was gone, and he had this horrible feeling that he was going to lose you too.
His way of dealing with it was to push you away even more. He told himself it would make things easier when you inevitably left him.
Things came to a head one night after the three of you left Lincoln. Joel had been driving all day, and he would be doing it again the next day. He was in desperate need of sleep, but as he stared out into the eerie darkness of the woods, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible would happen if he didn’t stay awake.
He heard the rustling of a sleeping bag sometime after midnight. He thought it was you just rolling over in your sleep—something you often did—but then he heard the faint sound of dead leaves crunching under feet, and you were by his side a moment later.
“What are you doing, Joel?” you asked in a soft, sleepy voice that made his chest ache.
“Keepin’ watch,” he replied bluntly.
“But you’re driving tomorrow,” you said. “You need sleep.”
“I’m fine.”
“I’ve slept, so I can take over,” you offered.
“I just told you I’m fine.”
“I’m just trying to help—”
“I don’t need your fucking help.”
You backed off, hanging your head in shame, and he instantly felt horrible—you were being nice to him and he was still being a complete asshole.
Joel tried to tear his gaze away from you. He wanted to pretend this wasn’t happening, that he hadn’t just done that, but his eyes stayed on you. He watched the shame dissolve and replace itself with indignation. You pulled your head up and glared at him with a fire in your eyes that threatened to burn right through him.
“I get it, okay? I’m sorry.”
“What are you talkin’ about?”
“I never meant for you to get stuck with me. I know it’s your worst fucking nightmare. If I could switch places with Tess—“
“Stop.” He wouldn’t hear that. He couldn’t. It would kill him. “That’s not—I’m not thinkin’ that. I’m glad you’re here, understand? I need you with me.”
You let out a bitter laugh. The sound hit his ears like a gunshot. “You just told me you didn’t. All you’ve done—all you’ve ever done—is act like I’m a fucking waste of space.”
Joel’s mouth when dry, his heart dropped to his stomach, and he thought he might vomit. It shouldn’t have shocked him like it did, but hearing you say it made him sick. He put the gun he’d been clutching down on the ground, disarming himself in more ways than one. “I don’t think that…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just—fuck—I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Are you gonna leave?”
“Leave this mission or this mortal coil?"
“Either, I guess.”
“Do you want me to leave?” Your voice was just a whisper, and it felt like you were ripping Joel’s heart out and crushing it in your hands.
Fuck no, he didn’t want you to leave, and that was what scared him the most; feeling attached to someone so detached (and yes, he was a hypocrite). He wouldn’t be able to take it if he woke up one day and you were gone.
But he couldn’t keep doing this to you. It was selfish and cowardly and it just made everything worse. He made everything worse.
“I can’t do this without you,” he told you. He hadn’t known how true it was until he said it.
“Okay.”
“I’m serious.” He felt suddenly impassioned. “You can’t…if you…just don’t. Promise me you won’t.” He couldn’t say it, couldn’t let the words out of his mouth and into the universe. You both knew what he meant.
“I promise,” you said. You sounded oddly tranquil, but Joel was destroyed, even though he knew he didn’t have the right to be—this was entirely his fault.
“Can you let me keep watch so you can get some sleep?” you asked again.
He shook his head.
“Why not?”
“Just need to know where you are.”
You stared at him, eyes wide and glossy, and for a second he thought you might start crying. Before he could think of something to do or say, your hands were on either side of his face, pulling him down into an urgent kiss.
He didn’t know what was happening, what you were thinking, or what he was thinking, but it didn’t matter, he just knew he needed to kiss you back. One of his hands found your waist while the other splayed out across your back, pulling you flush against him.
It was nowhere near sweet. It was intense and unyielding—a frantic clashing of teeth and bruising of lips. It was intoxicating, earth-shattering, but felt so right, like it was always meant to happen—or needed to happen.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, somehow bringing him impossibly closer to you. You hiked a leg up around his hip and tugged his pelvis forward. He ran a hand down from your waist, brushing it over your ass and gripping your thigh.
You rolled your hips into his, eliciting a deep, involuntary groan from him. He was painfully hard. He knew he would regret this, but he set your leg down and managed to tear his mouth away from yours. 
He missed the feeling immediately, and he didn’t have the self-control to pull away completely. His hands were still on you, pressing you against him. You looked so pretty and ruined gazing back at him; breathless and flustered with pink, swollen lips.
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Fuck.
You had just kissed Joel Miller, the man you hated. 
You didn’t hate him.
You kissed the man who hated you.
He didn’t hate you.
You kissed the only person you had left. You kissed him even though it made no sense. You kissed him because you wanted to.
You started it, but then he stopped it. His eyes were dark, his face was flushed, and the bulge in his jeans was not going away. He looked like he was in pain, struggling with his own conscience.
“Sorry,” you whispered.
“Don’t be sorry.” He grinned softly and reached a hand up to tangle in your hair. It was an unexpectedly sweet gesture. “I liked it.”
Your heart melted. He was so lovely, so dear. You never imagined in your wildest dreams that Joel Miller could be like this.
“Just don’t wanna take advantage,” he said.
“You’re not. I kissed you,” you reminded him.
“I know, but you're upset, and you don’t like me much, and you’re tired. Don’t want you doing anything you don’t actually wanna do.”
You did want it, but you were also overwhelmed and exhausted, and more importantly, it would have been a majorly fucked up thing to do with a 14 year old sleeping 20 feet away.
“But if you still want it later”—he gave you another chaste kiss—“you can have it.”
You giggled, kissing him one more time. You didn’t know when you'd be able to again.
His gentle smile faded, and he looked into your eyes with devastating sincerity. “I got you now, okay?”
“I know, Joel.”
“Do you have me?” he asked.
“I’m trying.” You hoped that would be enough, because it was all you had.
“That’s all I need, sweetheart.”
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a/n: so i wrote most of this when i was sick with the flu and i fully intended for it to be a one-shot, but i love this dynamic and i’m thinking of exploring it further. let me know if y’all would be interested in seeing more of these two. (edit: this a/n is now redundant bc i did in fact write the sequel).
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lumi-nescentt · 6 months
Note
Max Verstappen seems like the type who would absolutely be jealous of his cats getting more attention than him, add in that his partner is allergic to cats, and she's still choosing to spend the few hours they have together when Max is home, cuddling with the cats instead of cuddling with Max.
There's just something sweet in my mind about a whining Max who's loosing to his cats, despite his girlfriend being all teared up and snotty because of her allergies, the cats are cute, and she has to cuddle them.
This is a mess of an ask, I apologise
Head On The Pillow, I Could Feel You Sneakin' In
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Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader
Warnings: none
Words: 1.6k
Summary: Max doesn't consider himself jealous. But he might start acting a little grumpy if he sees you choose his cats over him one more time.
A/N: Omg please don't apologise this was the cutest idea ever and after writing angsty stuff all week I was thrilled to have something sweet to think about :) I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it hehe
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Giving you a key to his apartment had seemed like the best idea for the two of you after dating for a few months. Max could tell you exactly when he was supposed to be back and he knew you’d be there waiting for him if you could. It was also good for when you missed him too much and wanted to either steal some of his clothes while he was gone or just stay at his place surrounded by so many things that screamed Max.
Normally, Max would have been over the moon to be with someone who was comfortable enough in his own home to spend time there with or without him but lately, Max seemed to notice a certain pattern. 
No matter when he called or texted, if you weren’t supposed to be working, you were always at his place. This first part wouldn’t have bothered him at all if it wasn’t for your cat allergies. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been but your eyes still got all red and puffy whenever you were around Jimmy and Sassy and you sneezed a lot. 
Max had tried to convince you countless times to stay away from them but you couldn’t resist them. They just had to be in the same room as you and you were already calling them over so Sassy could rest on your lap while Jimmy nuzzled against your side. If the cats realised you were allergic to them and tried to keep yourself from sneezing on them, they didn’t show it and gave you back as much love as they could. 
Part of Max was almost in awe to see you being this affectionate with his cats when they barely acknowledged him most of the time but he couldn’t help from wanting to be the one to receive all the attention. It had been fine during the summer break because you were spending all your time with him anyway but now that he was always gone, he really wanted to make the limited time he had with you count. 
As soon as the Qatar Grand Prix was over, all he wanted was to lay down with you in bed and not move for a few hours. He was exhausted, sweating all over and honestly driving in those conditions had been a nightmare. He really needed to complain about it, just to let it out, but with the media all around he wasn’t sure if his PR team would appreciate it so he kept his mouth shut, waiting to be all cuddled up in your arms to vent as you ran your hands through his hair like you usually did. 
When he landed in Nice a few hours later, Max had never been happier to have his own jet. All he could think about now was going back home to you, and his cats, but mostly you. He knew you’d be here because you told him so but he didn’t expect you to be in bed already, or to still be cuddling the cats instead of him when he lied down next to you.
-“ Schatje ?” he asked, only getting a sleepy groan as an answer “ Can you make them move please ? Jimmy’s claws are scratching my back and Sassy’s using half of my pillow…”
-“ They’re asleep Max, I don’t want to wake them but I can scoot away a bit and bring Jimmy with me a little if you want.” you answered with your eyes closed, your face resting against Sassy’s head while her back was on Max’ pillow
-“ I don’t want you to move away. I want him to move away and you to move closer.” he grumbled 
-“ I can’t do that without waking them up. I'm sorry baby, I promise we can cuddle all you want tomorrow. Is that okay with you ?” 
-“ Yeah I guess, good night schatje.” Max gave in, stretching over the cats to place a quick kiss on your cheek before settling down as best as he could against Sassy
When Max woke up the next day to a pillow all for himself, he wanted to make the most of this chance so he turned around, ready to drag your body closer to his but just like both cats had left him, you were no longer lying next to him. Groaning ever so slightly, Max got out of bed and started looking for where you had decided to go at 8am when he knew you had the day off. 
He quickly found you on the sofa with the cats laying all over you while you were clinging onto the box of tissues for dear life, trying not to sneeze and wake them up. 
-“ I didn’t think you’d wake up this soon Max, did I wake you ?” 
-“ No, I just missed you so I decided to get up.”
-“ I missed you too, baby.” you smiled at him warmly
-“ Did you really ?” 
-“ Yeah of course I did, we haven’t seen each other in 2 weeks. That’s a long time.” 
-“ It doesn’t quite seem like it…” Max complained with a pout
-“ What do you mean ?” you asked, confused as to why your boyfriend would be upset
-“ Since I came back all you did was cuddle with the cats and when I woke up and wanted to do the same like you promised, you were already gone...” 
-“ I’m sorry, they were hungry and I didn’t want their meowing to wake you up so we went to the kitchen and then I sat down for a second and Jimmy fell asleep on me so I couldn’t go back to you.”
-“ Just put him down on the sofa, he won’t even realise that you’re gone.” 
-“ Yes he will ! And then he’s going to think I don’t love him anymore and I don’t want him to think that.” 
-“ He’s a cat y/n.” 
-“ So ?”
-“ He’s not going to care that much as long as you keep feeding and petting him the rest of the time. However, your boyfriend who just came back from a very tiring race and wanted to be close to you might think you don’t want him anymore if you keep choosing his cats over him.” Max mumbled, crossing his arms as he eyed the two cats stealing your attention
-“ You don’t have to be jealous, okay ? There’s still room for you next to me, you know ?” you chuckled, patting the spot next to you
Max was going to sit down next to you when Sassy appeared from nowhere and jumped on the couch next to you, laying down where Max was planning on sitting. That was the final straw for your boyfriend and before you could realise what was happening, Max was taking Jimmy in his arms and putting him on the sofa before picking you up as you helplessly laughed and asked him to put you down. 
Max made his way to your bedroom, closing the door behind him before the cats could follow. Once he was sure it was only the two of you, he put you down with a satisfied huff.
-“ Are you satisfied now ?” you asked him with a grin
-“ Almost.” he said before handing you a tissue and heading towards the joint bathroom “ Here, take your allergy treatment then go shower because your eyes are all red and your arm is too. Once you’re done, I’ll be waiting on that promise you made and without the cats anywhere near you.” 
-“ But–”
-“ No ‘but’ schatje, I know you love them but I shouldn’t have to remind you that you’re allergic to them to get your full attention and to get you to put some distance between you.”
-“ They’re so cute, how am I supposed to not cuddle them when I need cuddles ?” 
-“ You have a boyfriend who’s perfectly able to do that too but since you seem to have forgotten, I’ve decided not to do anything all morning except reminding you that I’m way better than my own cats at this.” Max huffed, looking determined
When you came back from your shower, Max was waiting on a freshly made bed with two cups of coffee and a few pastries he had gone to pick up at the bakery downstairs. You sat on the bed for a while, eating your breakfast in front of a TV show you had just started together but as soon as you were done eating, Max was pulling you under the blanket and resting his head on your chest, tightening his arms around your waist.
-“ Isn’t this better than two fur balls that make your eyes itchy and your nose runny ?” Max asked, with his face buried against you
-“ It’s very nice, I have to admit.”
-“ I know but is it better than them ?” he insisted
-“ You’re really jealous, huh ?”
-“ Answer the question y/n.”
-“ Yes, this is way better Max.” 
-“ Good, I would have hated to have to sell my babies because they were stealing you away from me.” 
-“ You wouldn’t.” you exclaimed with a laugh
-“ I might if they keep you from me. I love them but I know I love you more, that’s for sure.” 
-“ You’re an idiot, I swear.” 
-“ I know, but I’m your idiot.” 
-“ That you are, now shush I want to watch this.” 
-“ Only if you promise me that I will come before the cats, always.” 
-“ Max.”
-“y/n.” he deadpanned, still waiting for you to comply
-“ I promise you come before the cats. You’re my favourite person, of course you come first.” 
-“ I love you.” Max smiled, placing a kiss on your stomach where he was now laying before adding “ Now shush, I actually want to watch this too.” 
-“ You’re insufferable.” you laughed, ruffling his hair slightly “I love you too dummy.”
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