#but she says it made her think of him. the real him. gold and sparkling and beautiful
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lwaxodo but yuri
#lwaxodo but an AU where my None Gender Left Girl odo headcanon is real and lwaxana may not be able to read his mind or anything#but still picks up on it because uhh i'm making it part of this AU now that deanna is trans. so lwaxana sees some familiar Signs#and she helps odo realize it#i mean she was like the first person to really love and understand and accept odo for who he is#i think she understands a little bit more than he's able to y'know. even without the use of telepathy#anyway imagine if they had more than 3 episodes together and lwaxana comes back with a gift for odo#as thanks for helping her get out of her last marriage and keep her baby. which he says is unnecessary but she insists#and it's this beautiful shimmering gold dress. she knows he doesn't need clothes because he can just shapeshift them#but she says it made her think of him. the real him. gold and sparkling and beautiful#and he's so touched by it. he's never thought of himself as beautiful in any form but he has no doubt that she sincerely means it#ough. anyway. i got carried away with these tags#they're cute. i love their friendship and i wish we got to see more of it#they're so cute as a couple too tho i know lwaxana accepted that odo doesn't feel that way about her#they're still very important to each other. like it may not be romance but it's deeper than friendship. i love them. we deserved more
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-rompers, strollers and so much more / lando norris
Warnings: none just some fluff
Words: 907
Reading Time: 3 min 37 sec
A/N
This could be seen as a part two to the first story but this can also be read as a stand-alone.
Part one (if anyone is interested)
Hope you enjoy reading it !
The golden Monaco sun bathed the cobblestone streets as Y/N and Lando strolled hand in hand toward the boutique baby store. Y/N’s free hand rested instinctively on her growing belly, and she couldn’t help but smile at how real everything was starting to feel. At five months pregnant, her bump was pronounced enough to draw gentle attention from passersby, and she wore it with quiet pride.
Lando gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his other hand occasionally brushing against her belly as though he couldn’t resist making a connection with their little one. “Our first official baby shopping trip,” he said, grinning. “Big day, huh?”
“It really is,” Y/N agreed, her eyes sparkling. “We’re actually buying things for her. It feels so… real now.”
“It does,” Lando replied, his grin widening. “Let’s spoil her a bit, yeah?”
When they stepped into the boutique, the pastel paradise of tiny clothes, plush toys, and elegant strollers greeted them. Y/N’s gaze darted around in awe. “This place is adorable,” she said softly, her eyes catching on a display of baby shoes no bigger than her palm.
“And overwhelming,” Lando added, scanning the room. “Where do we even start?”
Y/N laughed. “How about clothes? That seems like a safe start.”
Lando nodded and followed her to a rack of tiny onesies. He immediately pulled one out and held it up. “Okay, how about this?” he asked, showing her a white onesie with “Daddy’s Little Champion” written in gold script across the front.
Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You’re already dreaming of her racing career, aren’t you?”
“Well, yeah,” he said, pretending to puff out his chest. Then, turning toward her bump, he crouched slightly and spoke to it. “What do you think, baby girl? You’d look great in this, wouldn’t you? It’s got a winning vibe.”
Y/N chuckled, running a hand through Lando’s curls. “You know she can’t actually answer you, right?”
Lando looked up with a playful pout. “Not yet, but I’m practicing. She’s probably nodding in there.” He kissed Y/N’s belly lightly and straightened. “We’re getting it.”
Y/N shook her head with a smile but let him toss the onesie into their shopping basket.
As they sifted through the racks, Y/N picked up a soft pink romper with tiny bunny ears on the hood. “Lando, look at this. Isn’t it the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”
Lando reached over to feel the fabric. “That’s soft,” he said, then crouched again to talk to the bump. “What do you think, little one? Wanna be a bunny for Dad and Mum? I think you’d look pretty adorable.”
Y/N placed a hand on her bump, feeling a faint flutter of movement. Her smile widened. “I think she agrees with you.”
“See?” Lando said triumphantly. “She’s got great taste already.”
By the time they moved on from the clothes section, their basket was already brimming with pastel onesies, patterned leggings, and a knitted blanket Y/N couldn’t resist.
In the toy section, Y/N picked up a soft plush giraffe and pressed it to her cheek. “Do you think she’ll like this?”
Lando took it from her, holding it up in front of Y/N’s belly. “What do you think, baby girl? A giraffe for your room? We could name it Gerald. Gerald the Giraffe.” He made the giraffe “walk” along the shelf, pretending it was racing another toy.
“You’re such a child,” Y/N said, though her laughter betrayed how much she loved seeing his playful side.
“Hey, I’m practicing for playtime,” Lando replied, tossing the giraffe into their basket. “You’ll see. She’ll love it.”
When they reached the stroller section, they were met with rows of sleek, high-tech options. “Who knew strollers could be so complicated?” Y/N murmured, reading one of the tags. “This one says it has an all-terrain suspension system. Are we planning on taking her hiking?”
Lando crouched down to inspect the wheels. “You never know. Maybe we’ll need to get her to the track over gravel or something.”
“Of course,” Y/N said with a roll of her eyes, though she couldn’t suppress a smile.
After testing several models—and after Lando insisted on pushing each one in a short lap around the aisle to test its “maneuverability”—they settled on a sleek grey stroller that folded easily and looked modern and practical.
“This is the one,” Lando declared, patting the handle. “What do you think, baby girl? Does it pass the test?” He crouched one last time, resting a hand on Y/N’s belly. “You’ll be cruising around Monaco in style in this bad boy.”
“She’s not even born yet, and you’re already making her sound like a diva,” Y/N teased, though her voice was soft with affection.
“She deserves the best,” Lando said simply, standing and slipping an arm around Y/N’s shoulders.
As they approached the checkout counter, Y/N leaned into Lando, her hand resting on her bump. “This feels so real now,” she said softly. “Like she’s already a part of our lives.”
“She is,” Lando said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “And I can’t wait to meet her. She’s already got me wrapped around her little finger.”
They left the store with bags in hand, their hearts full as they walked down the bustling street. Every tiny onesie, every plush toy, and every little item they had picked out felt like a promise to their baby girl—a promise of love, care, and the beautiful life that was waiting for her.
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Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !❤️
#lando norris x y/n#lando norris oneshot#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#formula 1#lando norris#dad! lando norris#lando norris x pregnant!reader#mclaren f1#mclaren
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Hello! Can I req ln4 x reader where they are secretly married, but the entire world just know they're bestfriend. One day an interviewer ask if they are a thing and they say they're married but sarcastically (like Chris Evans and Elizabeth Olsen on Ellen show) and in the end they decided to just reveal it. Thank you!!
🗣️avaspeaks: i love this request so much!!! and i thoroughly enjoyed writing this one, and i hope i did it justice!
we decided to break the internet (ln4)
'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡
introduction - lando and y/n were practically inseparable since childhood. building sandcastle empires on the beach, trading pokémon cards at recess, navigating the awkwardness of middle school together - they'd seen it all. what neither quite admitted, not even to themselves, was the secret crush simmering beneath the surface of their friendship. every time lando tried to impress a girl with his skateboard tricks, y/n would "accidentally" trip him mid-grind. and whenever y/n had a date, lando would "forget" to return her favorite dress, the one that made her feel invincible. their sabotage was childish, sure, but it stemmed from a fear of losing the other entirely. one summer night, sprawled on the hood of lando's beat-up car, gazing at a sky exploding with stars, something shifted. maybe it was the whispered secrets shared, or the way their laughter mingled with the chirping crickets. in that moment, childhood friendship flickered, ignited by a spark of something deeper, a love waiting to prosper.
the air crackled with anticipation as lando norris and a stunning y/n settled into the interview chairs. formula one fans adored their playful dynamic, convinced they were just best friends. little did anyone know, they'd been secretly married for over a year and a half.
"so," the interviewer began, a sly smile on his face, "the fans are curious. is there anything going on between you two, romantically?"
lando shot y/n a mock glare. "absolutely! infact we're married!!!," he deadpanned, throwing his head back in exaggerated shock.
the room froze. cameras flashed. y/n, stifling a laugh, gasped dramatically. "married and absolutely smitten with eachother! lando, haven't you told them about movie night and all the crying over sappy rom-coms?"
the audience erupted in gasps and whispers. even the other drivers, strategically placed in the back row, looked bewildered. carlos, oscar,max,charles,daniel,alex and george laughed silently into their hands.
lando, playing along, clutched his chest. "oh no, you can't tell them about that! what will the neighbors think of all the late-night screaming about popcorn refills?"
y/n doubled over, tears welling up (from laughter, not the fake movie marathons). "and the screaming matches over who gets the last slice of pizza? lando, you monster!"
the room buzzed with confusion. were they…? weren't they…?
the interviewer, clearly flustered, stammered, "wait, so… you're saying you have movie nights and… screaming matches?"
lando winked at the camera. "the usual newlywed stuff, you know?"
y/n, wiping a fake tear, added, "don't even get me started on the scooter races in the paddock."
the room descended into chaos. reporters scribbled furiously, phones buzzed, and drivers peeked over their chairs, jaws slack.
lando, barely able to hold back a real laugh, reached for y/n's hand. "alright, alright," he conceded, "we might be exaggerating a tad. movie nights are definitely a thing, though. y/n's a terror with the remote."
y/n swatted him playfully. "hey! at least i let you pick the action movies sometimes."
suddenly, y/n did something unexpected. with a flourish, she turned her hand, revealing a simple gold band with a sparkling diamond. the room fell silent.
"oh by the way we've actually married for about two years now," y/n raised an eyebrow at lando, a wide, mischievous grin spreading across her face. "forgot to mention that detail, did you?"
lando, speechless for once, could only stare at the ring, then back at the stunned faces around him. the dam broke. laughter, loud and genuine, erupted from them both. the tension in the room evaporated, replaced by a mixture of shock, amusement, and a touch of awe.
as the interview wrapped up, the secret was out. lando and y/n, f1's favorite "best friends," were husband and wife. the post-interview scrum was a whirlwind. questions flew, cameras flashed in their faces, and congratulations poured in. through it all, lando and y/n stuck together, their laughter echoing through the room, a testament to their love and their ability to surprise everyone, even the f1 world.
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more! thanks for reading!
leave a like, leave a comment!
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
#lando norris#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x oc#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#ln4#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x reader#ln4 x you#ln4 x female reader#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x oc#charles lecrelc#carlos sainz#carlando#landoscar#max verstappen#oscar piastri#george russell#alex albon#formula 1#f1 imagine#formula one#y/n#mclaren
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— THREAD OF GOLD
summary — a thread of moments that defined your relationship with mike.
warnings — uh i don’t think there are? me not caring about the irl timeline of events and making up my own shit cause i can. also i switch between past and present tense like nobody's business so we're all gonna pretend we don't notice that.
pairing — mike faist x fem!famous! reader
pronouns — she/her
word count — 7.8k + social media posts
note — hi sorry i’ve been MIA i’ve been working on this for 5ever truly it came to me one day and i couldn’t write anything else. this isn’t edited because it’s nearly 8k and i’m not about that life.
important note that i tried to make it so yn’s skin tone changed in at least some of the pictures to make it more inclusive but pinterest fought me SO hard i spent maybe four hours just finding images. this is NOT meant to be a depiction of what yn looks like, just a general vibe of the images used in the thread <33
ONE. july 2017
California doesn’t have seasons the same way your hometown did. California has two seasons: wet and dry. You grew up in the suburbs of New York, in Westchester county, about an hour north of Manhattan. You went to the city a few times growing up, but you spent almost all of your upbringing on a quiet street with a cul-de-sac and a park a street away.
You’d lived in California for a while, you were based there for most of the year, but you’d still say you lived in New York. You were lucky enough to be at a break between projects where you got to spend more than a few weeks at a time at your New York apartment.
You’d been back maybe two weeks and knowing that you didn’t have to go back to the west coast for at least six months felt like a major weight off your chest. Finally retreating back to your cocoon, the air around you still felt thick, but this one felt more like a wall keeping things out rather than one keeping you in.
So, naturally, the first thing you did with your newfound seclusion was to venture outside with a man you’d been trying to go out with for a few months now.
You and Mike had known each other for a little over half a year now. You’d met at a new year’s party hosted by a mutual friend of a mutual friend and you had known immediately that he was someone that you wanted to know desperately. You’d been elated that he seemed to reciprocate. Unfortunately, with your work schedules, this was the first time since January that you’d had enough time in the same state.
He was unlike anyone that you had ever met, and now that you were in the same place, you were revelling in his presence. He’d taken you to a park near his apartment, he’d let you hold his hand on the subway and you were pretty sure that he was going to kiss you later.
It had been a while since you’d been outside - like, properly outside, and Mike was enjoying how happy you seemed to be. While you’d been trying to organise yourselves, Mike had spent hours on the phone with you, trying to avoid sounding so disgustingly happy that he scared you off. This may have been your first real date, but Mike already knew that you were it for him.
You were chattering about a story from your childhood, and he was really trying to listen to you, but he was focused more on the way the golden hour was hitting your face, and the way you would subconsciously squeeze his hand when you made yourself laugh.
“Yeah, since then my mom makes sure that she puts the cat treats away whenever he comes over,” you giggled. Mike let the sound fill him from the inside. He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by you dropping his hand. “I’ve needed this,” you let your head fall back to bask in the dying sunlight. “Air that I’m not sharing with Buzzfeed HQ, grass that is made in real dirt.”
“I see,” Mike nodded seriously. “You’re not even here for me, you were just waiting for a guy to take you to see some trees.”
You reach back and grip his hand, eyes sparkling directly into his. “Thank you,” you say sincerely, “for knowing your place.”
He laughed and let you drop your hand again, watching fondly as you speed off in front of him, stopping maybe fifteen feet in front of him. “Will you come with me to the emergency room when I fall out of the tree I’m about to climb.”
Mike was sure you could see exactly how much he wanted to kiss you from the look on his face. He laughed, nodding. “That’s actually the next stop I had planned anyway.”
TWO. october 2017
You couldn’t remember dolling yourself up for a date in so long, but it was clearly paying off the way that Mike hadn’t let you out of arm’s reach the entire cab ride. You hand two hands on his arm and he’d been talking in your ear the whole ride.
You were taking him to lunch at one of your favourite places in the city, quiet, not visible from the street, with a wonderful goat cheese salad. He’d been ecstatic that you were clearly showing him parts of your life that you kept close to your chest.
The two of you had only been together properly for about three months now, but you’d known each other for nearly a year. Mike hadn’t really dated anyone in the industry before, definitely not publicly.
You’d mentioned to him a few of your past dating experiences before, and you had been steadfast on the fact that if you were going to have a relationship that it would be as completely private as possible.
Mike didn’t think he’d ever hesitated less to reply - he was all in, same page. It felt simultaneously too fast and too slow. You’d been dating for three months, sure, but he’d known you since January, and it had felt like that first seven months had been confirmation that he liked you again and again and again.
Mike had been calling you his girlfriend to everyone, his friends, his family, some of his closer co-stars. But as he sat across from you at the restaurant, he realised he hadn’t actually asked.
He valued communication, he thought he was pretty good at it. But he’d settled into such a comfortable settlement with you that it had slipped his mind entirely. You didn’t mind. You were on the same page as him.
You referred to him to those closest to you as your boyfriend. You weren’t sitting around, desperately waiting for him to ask you to be his girlfriend, if that’s how you felt you would have asked him before you got to this point.
The two of you were doing what you usually did, you ordered a few different things with the intention of sharing, and Mike, as usual, was way more interested in what you had picked than he had.
You were giggling across the table at him, watching the way the breeze from the window by your table kept blowing his hair into his mouth. .”Here,” you took the scrunchie from your own hair and stood up, coming to a rest behind him.
He tilted his head back - good for him, he could see your face; bad for you, you couldn’t grab all his hair - while you worked and after a second you’d tied his hair up out of his face.
You moved to return to your seat, but he half-lifted himself from his chair to make sure he got to kiss you before you left. “Thank you, honey,” he said softly. Your thumb rubbed his cheek with a soft touch.
“‘s okay,” you mused, looking at him. He loved the look you got in your eyes when you were fully concentrated on his face, he wondered if he got the same look when he saw yours. “You look cute.”
“Says you,” he mumbled, looking down at your outfit. He could tell you’d put in extra effort, he wanted you to know it hadn’t been for nothing. “Y’look so pretty today, can’t believe I get to be the one here with you.”
You giggled, preening under his thoughtful gaze. You could feel your cheeks growing warmer, but you made yourself not look away from him. “Yeah?”
He turned his head and kissed the palm of your hand. “Can’t believe I haven’t asked you to be my girlfriend properly,” he sounded so positively disappointed that you couldn’t help but giggle. “Don’t laugh at me, it’s embarrassing.”
You giggled a little bit harder. “Oh, baby,” you let your thumb brush his lips, soaking in the way he kissed the pad of the finger. “Can’t be embarrassed, I didn’t even realise.” Mike hummed in question. “Don’t know,” you shuffle in place. “in my head you’ve been my boyfriend for like six months.”
“Thank god,” Mike laughed, letting his head drop. “Quick, sit down, I need to ask you to be exclusive so I can tell people that I did.”
You pause for a second before nabbing the fork on his plate, scooping up a piece of chicken before sitting back in your chair. “Go on, then, boyfriend.” You take a bite. “Get it over with, I’m hungry.”
THREE. december 2017
You were curled into Mike’s side when you got the text. You didn’t usually look at your phone when the two of you were together, but he was watching a documentary about something that didn’t interest you, while you were reading a book on your phone.
He had his hand sitting on the back of your neck, knuckles brushing a line from the nape to the top of your shoulder. It was one of your costars from an earlier project, sending you a link.
“LMAOO not people”
It was a People magazine article, one that instantly had you rolling your eyes. Mike sensed your shift in mood and laid his palm flat on the curve of your shoulder. “Okay?”
“People says we’ve been together since…” you scrolled through the article.” “October last year,” you snickered.
“Cant believe you didn’t tell me.” Mike let his head fall back against the sofa. “I wish,” he said as an afterthought.
“You didn’t even know me back then,” you pointed out.
Mike leaned forward and kissed your temple. “Still,” he said, concretely no but with supreme amounts of gentleness. “I’m sure I would’ve wanted you with great desperation.”
You and Mike had gone through conversations before about revealing your relationship to the public. You had little to no intentions of doing that, especially not so soon. But you’d wanted to manage expectations.
You’d become famous young, not as young as some, you’d only been twenty when you landed your first major role. You’d done principal photography during your summer break in college, working towards getting your degree, and by the time you graduated you had two feature films and one golden globe nomination under your belt.
You’d had a college boyfriend at the time, it had ended naturally, not without pain, but not as a result of your blossoming career. The magazines had eaten it up, though, with all sorts of speculations.
You didn’t want that again. You didn’t owe them anything. And you were so grateful that Mike seemed to share the sentiment. You were so grateful to your fans but you knew at the end of the day that they didn’t own you, which is why you were not above lying to them to keep them out of your life.
Especially when the comments of the post were already filled with dozens of suggestions to who it could be. Not when your friends, your coworkers, or random strangers who hadn’t done anything other than be someone people thought you might like if you met them, we’re getting their personal lives dug into in order to confirm a suspicion that a stranger had about you.
Not when you were curled up in the arms of one of the kindest most charming men you’d ever known, one that you might even want to spend the rest of your life with. He definitely didn’t deserve this, and neither did you.
So, you went into your camera roll and found a selfie you’d sent to one of your friends a few days earlier. You typed up a short sentence and then hit post on your Instagram story without thinking too hard about it.
When you showed it to Mike he smiled endearingly. “Aw man,” he mumbled, pressing his face to the crook of your neck. “Can’t believe you didn’t tell me we broke up.”
FOUR. march 2018
Days on set were long, they were often exhausting, and they were where you’d thrive.
You’d finally wrapped after thirteen hours, and the first thing you did when you got your phone out of your trailer was to text Mike.
He was in New York still, but you guys had been speaking as often as you could. With him three hours in front of you, it often ended up in the two of you just missing each other. Mike had texted you four hours earlier while you’d been filming.
You look pretty here.
It’s a Vanity Fair video that you filmed about a month ago with one of your costars. It was a movie about love, being in love, loving people, loving places, loving time. Your character was the main romantic love interest to the main character, and she was one of your favourite characters that you’d ever played. A young woman who finds love in her career, love in her family, and eventually begins giving it to the main character. You and your costar had become very close, and you were talking candidly to them in the video about your experience with love.
Mike had sent you a screenshot of the video, where you’re smiling across to your costar. It had been a simple question they’d asked; have you ever been in love.
Now, you couldn’t say blatantly, “yes, I have a boyfriend.” And you couldn’t say that for two reasons. Number one, you and Mike had been so careful to the point where you didn’t even think your fans knew that the two of you were aware of each other, let alone that his tongue had been in your mouth.
And number two was that you hadn’t actually told Mike that you loved him. You did, god you did. You probably would have told him months ago if things were more normal. If you both worked 9 to 5s, you lived primarily in the same city, you could go on dates and pull him over to the side of the sidewalk, interrupting him mid-sentence to kiss him.
Unfortunately, you’d spent months apart, and while you spoke multiple times a day, at least through texts, it felt like not the right time.
You try to brush off your smile as you reply to him. Stop ittt you’re giving me an ego <333. In that exact moment, you know what you’d been spewing some media trained answer that avoided mentioning your partner but still felt authentic. “I’m just really glad that I spent most of my early twenties trying to find myself before trying to find someone else, I guess.”
Mike took a moment to reply. Guess you didn’t find me :(
You giggle as you finish changing back into your own clothes out of the costume you’d just been wearing, ready to head home now that your last scene of the day had concluded. Nope! You sought me out 100% I actually have no idea who you are.
That time the reply was instant. This is awkward then. What else is instant is the knock on your trailer door, the way you wrap your arms around him once you’d thrown open the door, and the knowledge that you’re going to tell him that you love him.
FIVE. september 2018
Mike knows that most people are more nervous to meet their girlfriend’s parents than he currently is, and ironically that actually does make him nervous.
It wasn’t really his first time meeting them, he’d spoken to them on the phone before and he’d even texted your mom a couple of times when you’d asked him to. You’ve been his girlfriend officially for almost an entire year, but the two of you both agreed that you felt you’d been together since July of the year earlier. That was over one whole year together. Even if your parents didn’t like him - which, based off the amount that not only he’d spoken to them, but you’d talked about him, seemed almost impossible - it wasn’t going to be the be all or end all.
But he wanted your mom’s birthday brunch (of which she was very serious about) to go well as his first official family event that he attended as your boyfriend.
The two of you were getting ready at his place, as you do most days that you’re in New York. You spend maybe two or three months in your home state and as you and Mike are together for longer and longer, you spend as much time together as you can. Mike had not only let you spend every second you could at his apartment, he’d actively encouraged it.
You’re wearing an outfit he’s seen on you a hundred times, standing in front of his bathroom mirror as he ducks in to grab his phone. He stops behind you, watching you apply mascara, and places both his hands on your shoulders.
“Love you,” you say absent-mindedly, trying to focus on not stabbing yourself in the eye.
He squeezes your shoulders and kisses the back of your neck, the closest part he can reach. “Love you more. I’m ready to head out whenever you are.”
You lean back so your face is no longer just inches from the mirror. “Reservation’s at 11 so we should probably leave soon,” you say. “Give me five or so minutes.”
You let him hold your hand the entire way to the restaurant, knowing exactly how nervous he is. He’s a grown man, he knows your mom already loves him, but he appreciates that you don’t say any of this as he follows you into the restaurant.
Your mom is already there, with two seats beside her that Mike knows are reserved for you, and she leaps out of her chair at the sight of you. You greet her with a hug and a happy birthday, having let Mike hold the gift so he felt less like he was coming empty handed (you’d bought it together). The second you’re out of her path, she’s coming for him. “Oh, it’s so lovely to finally get to meet you!” She’s gushing over him and he’s trying not to look embarrassed in front of you.
He fits right in with your family, sitting on your left hand side while you sit pride of place beside your mom. He gets caught up in one of your mom’s friend’s conversations (“Oh I just adore Broadway, what’s it like?”) and that’s when your mom takes the opportunity to lean over and whisper over her bellini to you.
You lean in so you can hear her without much strain.
“I’ve never seen you look this happy.”
You beam back at her.
SIX. november 2019
You’re thinking of selling your California apartment.
You know it’s probably a bad idea, and that because you spend so much time in LA, it’s good to have a place to call home. But you also feel like it’s keeping you tied to the west coast. That you’re more likely to spend more time in California if you have a place there, and that’s not something that you want anymore.
You’ve been in California for the last nine months, it’s been longer than that since you’ve seen your family, your friends, or your boyfriend. You missed your two-year anniversary because you spent the day on set and Mike wasn’t able to fly out due to his work schedule.
You have your co-stars, people you spent months with every day that you genuinely enjoy being around - one of them you even worked with on a past project, you spend a lot of your free time with them between takes - but it’s not the same.
And now you’re done. You have over seven months until press from this movie begins and then you have to start working again. Normally, you’d stay in California while you looked for another project to latch onto, but that wasn’t what you wanted to do.
You missed Mike, plain and simple. He was in New Jersey filming a movie, but that’s about as far away as he’d be if he was in New York. You knew of plenty of actors who didn’t live in LA and still made it work just fine, and as far as home states went, you could definitely have done worse than New York.
“I think if it’s something you want to do you should look into it.” You’d called your boyfriend to have him either talk you into or out of it, but frustratingly all he’s done is point out that it’s your apartment and that he’d be kind of an asshole if he pushed his opinion on your assets onto you.
“I want your opinion,” you let out a dramatic sob, sitting at your kitchen counter. Your phone is on speaker while you’re on your laptop, answering emails.
Mike laughs, it’s crackly through the phone but you know the ins and outs, the layers of breath. “My opinion is that you should do what feels right for you, and I’ll back you up no matter what.”
“You’re annoying,” you grumble, changing tabs to instead look through your camera roll. You had a few days left to post one of your monthly photo dumps, something you much preferred to posting consistently. There was one photo that your camera roll had put in the forefront, of you at dinner with Mike and two of your mutual friends to celebrate his 27th birthday. You’d taken the photo almost eleven months earlier, and hadn’t done anything with it, but you did think you looked cute.
“I love you,” he offers instead.
You hum in response, bringing up the photo. “Is it weird if I post a photo from your birthday dinner? You’re not in it, obviously.”
He laughs at your bluntness. “Right, because why would I be in it? It’s only my birthday.”
That brings you out of it. “No, wait,” you giggle. “Just cause I don’t want them to know that it’s your dinner, idiot.”
Mike groans. “I was gonna ask when you next are coming home but I actually don’t care anymore about it.”
“I’ll forgive you if you tell me what to do about my apartment.”
“Forgive me?”
“Fine, I love you or whatever.”
Mike laughs again, and you don’t even notice the crackles. “Or whatever.”
SEVEN. november 2019
You don’t think you’ve laughed this hard in a while.
“I’m sorry,” she moans, leaning on your shoulder.
You’re with one of your closest friends, sitting on your sofa, almost crying with laughter. You’d been staying with her while the sale of your California place was going down, with every intention of moving back home to New York after it was done. She’d commented on your yearly photo set, talking about a photo of you and your mom, and you’d realised exactly where people’s minds would go.
“No,” you giggle, “I was the one who decided to be messy and post the photo.” You’d posted a photo that had been taken of you and Mike when he’d come to visit you on set the year earlier. Everyone knew it was old, you’d thought it was funny, and sure you had probably revealed a little bit too much about your relationship, but Mike had thought it was funny too, so that was enough for you.
Your favourite part, though, was that not a single person had commented, tweeted, messaged you asking who he was, if he was your boyfriend, or what was happening. You hadn’t seen a single person give a fuck.
The two of you had been sneaking around like teenagers and literally no one had cared, so Mike had allowed you to be a little messy on your Instagram feed.
“If I’m the reason you and Mike get doxxed you can feel free to post any blackmail you have of me,” she promises. You can tell she feels awful about the possibility of having just exposed your multi-year long relationship, but if you’re honest you think it’s kind of funny.
You wave her off. “No, I guarantee no one even cares. Worst case scenario someone asks, you just tell them you were talking about the photo of me and my mom, it’s so fine.”
The reason that you’d posted that photo now was because when it had been taken, things were definitely too new to be making hints towards it, and you would have posted a more recent picture but that was literally the only one of the two of you you could fine.
And the best part was while all this was happening, so blatantly obvious to everyone who knew, you still got so many comments, dms - fucking interview questions - asking if you had a boyfriend, and every single time you’d either dodge it or outright say no.
Your phone vibrated; a text from Mike.
Rachel told me she hasn’t seen a single tweet about it and if anyone would have seen it it would be her.
yeah i run a stan account of you and haven’t put my phone down in 8 years - rachel :))))) She sends an entire row of kisses with hers.
You’d met his costar a few times, only over the phone, and he sent you pictures of the two of them together on set often. You heart her message, giving his a thumbs up and knowing that she’d appreciate that.
“See, it’s fine.” You show your friend.
She breathes an audible sigh of relief. “In my defence you did post the photo.”
EIGHT. june 2020
The plan had been in the works for six months before it got derailed. Your California apartment had officially been sold, and you were set to move in to Mike’s place until you settled back in. Once things had calmed down with work for the two of you, you were going to start looking for your own place together.
You’d ended your lease in your New York place, you had all of your stuff - not that you carted much around with you anyway - most of the furniture you had came with the place, and you’d donated or sold most of it. You had been living off of display furniture and minimal decorating, knowing that wherever it was would sit vacant most of the time anyway. This was going to be it, where you finally started building a life, and you’d be doing it with Mike.
And then the country had gone into lockdown and, after a very lengthy conversation, the two of you had decided to relocate back to Columbus, Ohio, where he had a place for when he went to visit family.
It had been a fast move, but you’d planned for every thing that you possibly could have. Your family was safe, in New York, and you knew that was the best place for them to be. Your dad had an autoimmune disorder, so you knew that even if you were living in the city you wouldn’t be able to visit them much anyway. After three years with Mike, spending most of your relationship states away, you couldn’t let him leave without coming with him.
So, there the two of you were. In Mike’s house in Ohio, one that was entirely familiar to him and somehow, it felt that way to you as well. Like you knew him so well that anything he knew was something you instinctively understood.
Despite how long you’ve known Mike, how long you’ve loved him, you feel a bit like you’re taking over his space. Like when he moves something to make room for one of your trinkets that you’re minimising him in his own home.
He doesn’t let you think that for long. Sometimes you’ll come into your shared bedroom and find him rearranging his bookshelf so your books fit too, moving his Grammy to a shelf where there’s enough room for it to sit beside your awards, changing the sheets to a set that you’d picked out.
You’ve been a successful working actor for the last eight years now, for almost five of them you’ve forgotten what it’s like to go outside and not worry that you’re going to be spotted.
Sure, when you go outside now, you’re masked and there’s less people outside to recognise you. But to the people you do run into, you’re not an actor to them, not a celebrity, not anything. You’re Mike’s girlfriend.
You can understand how that’s frustrating, you are your own person, but after three years of being together but constantly apart, you’re okay with your neighbours knowing you simply as Mike’s girlfriend.
Now that you’re always in the house your screentime goes way down, you don’t need to text him anymore. All of the things that had you stressed and anxious to leave the house for have changed. And of course the state of the world is by no means good, but if everything is going to be happening anyway, you’re glad that you’re able to be with him during it.
NINE. october 2020
You had become a bit of a homebody in the 9 months that you’d been living in Ohio. You only ever left the house when Mike did, and you didn’t go with him every time. Mike can tell it’s starting to wear on you a little bit.
So, in an effort to pick yourself up a bit more, you’ve started doing all the grocery shopping. You and Mike make a list together so as to not give you all the mental load with it, but you walk down the few blocks to the small general store.
It’s convenient, a nice place, with a pharmacy attached to one side and a bakery on the other. Sometimes you take Austin and the girl who works at the bakery puts a bowl down for him while you go in and get your medication.
Sometimes you drive, when you have the aching exhaustion that only comes with being sad for hours on end, or when it’s raining, but the fresh air and just the act of being outside was usually enough to make you feel better.
It was late, and the pharmacy was closing soon when you realise you’d forgotten to pick up your medication, so it’s a no brainer that you’ll zip down and grab it while Mike makes dinner.
You’ve slowly started setting down roots here, the shop assistants know your name and your prescription, they know you and Mike have officially moved into the mostly vacant house a few streets away, and they know that you seem like you’re maybe not always doing the best, because they’re always extra kind to you when you need it.
You like the domesticity. Sitting on the kitchen counter while goes through the fridge, telling you what to write down. Walking his dog - Austin absolutely loves you, which Mike did tell you is normal for most people - or holding his hand with his spare one on the leash.
You’ve been really tired lately, and despite the fact that it’s meant to be your time to be by yourself and get fresh air, you find yourself in the kitchen, arms around your boyfriend’s waist. “Please?” You ask.
Mike’s stirring something cheesy on the stove. You can smell it behind the wall of his cologne, the smell of wood and cinnamon. “Dinner’s almost ready,” he laughs and you feel the vibrations where your cheek is pressed to his back. “It’ll be cold by the time we get back.”
Your voice is small, and he knows he has zero intention of actually saying no to you, but he’s wondering if you’ll change your mind given a little bit of coaxing.
“We have a microwave.” He wouldn’t be able to hear you if you weren’t so close to him.
He loves you, and he’s also not blind. He can see you’re struggling. He likes to think he knows exactly when to give you space, and when you need him there. He puts the spoon down on the cutting board he has beside the stove and turns off the gas. “Okay,” he says comfortingly.
You brighten, and he feels you stand up straighter. “You’ll come with me.”
Mike doesn’t even pretend to think about it this time. “Of course I will.”
TEN. february 2021
Press was finally happening for your project that you had filmed all the way back towards the end of 2019, and with that came your first ever zoom interview. It was a bit awkward, you’d never really liked doing press much face to face but now online it was worse.
You and Mike had both found it a bit weird. He’d done a bit more of it in 2020 than you had, so you’d asked if he’d be in the room where possible to help ease your nerves.
You were in your bedroom, set up at the designated Work Spot. You and Mike had made an agreement, no work was to be done outside of the Work Spot. It was the only thing that stopped it bleeding into your everyday life, especially now that you were working from home.
Mike was out of frame so you could still see him, sitting in the corner reading a book. He’d glance up at you every single time you looked at him, like he could feel that you needed him.
Things were going well, it wasn’t a standard interview with an interviewer, but rather you’d been given a list of questions that the group of you took turns asking the others and then answering yourself.
There was a bit there where you knew you had a note written down about something important, but you’d written it on Mike’s phone. It was the only one near you at the time, and you were actively regretting it now.
You muted yourself on your computer and tried to subtly gesture for him. He notices you immediately and comes to stand right beside him.
“Can I grab your phone really quick?” He hands it over.
“You okay?” He asks, wary of the camera he’s standing just outside of frame of.
You unlock his phone and open up his notes app, trying to find what you’re doing. Mike didn’t have a phone case until you met him, but you’d cajoled him into a clear on“Did you…” you hum. “Did you move my note?”
You handed Mike back his phone and told him what he’s looking for and he scrolled for a second. “No?” He frowned. “Uh…” he bites his lip. “Oh wait, I cleared out a bunch of stuff hang on.”
You can hear everyone else, so you know no one has clocked your absence yet. “Found it,” he hands you back his phone and pulls up the one. “This one?”
“Love you,” you say in lieu of an answer. He gives you a look that makes a smile worm its way onto your face.
Mike goes to sit back down as you skim through your note, ready to have your talking points ready. “Love you,” he calls back.
When it’s eventually your turn to answer, you turn your microphone back on like nothing ever happened. And your costars, who all knew everything were was to know about exactly who you’d been talking to, all kept their mouths shut too.
ELEVEN. august 2021
The material of your dress was scratching his skin, but Mike couldn’t seem to mind when you were so deliriously happy. In one hand you had a glass of champagne and in the other a beautiful bouquet of flowers that you’d snatched from the air after it had left the hands of your childhood best friend.
People had been giving him knowing looks about it since then, upturned smirks and elbows to his ribcage. Mike laughed it off. The two of you were good, and he knew that you weren’t the type of girl to expect a proposal just because she caught the bouquet.
Over the course of the night he had stood by, chatting idly with another group of plus ones. He’d met your best friend countless times, but there was no denying that he would not have been invited if he hadn’t been with you for the last four years. He was just happy that you seemed to be having a good time.
Eventually, you staggered over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You weren’t drunk, didn’t need to be, you were simply so elated to not only be able to leave the house without feeling anxious but also to be able to celebrate your best friend getting married.
“You okay, sweetheart?” He chuckled, your nose pressed to his adam’s apple.
You hummed. “Yeah. Tired. Happy. Miss you,”
He ran his hand along the back of your dress, cringing at the material. “‘M right here.”
The night was winding down, it was out in a big greenspace that they’d rented, the sun had well and truly set. You were basking in the glow of the massive outdoor lamps they’d set up, and they bathed you in a golden hue.
“Thank you for coming with me,” you said genuinely. “I’m really happy.”
You were swaying on the spot slightly to the faded jazz playing in the background, and he let his arms envelope you, pulling you impossibly close to him. “Of course, baby,” he’s beaming wide, his voice low and soft. You can hear how happy he is.
It’s your first time being back in New York since you left, your longest stretch away from your home state in your whole life. The two of you have started looking for work again now that things are starting to open up. Mike’s riding the high of his West Side Story performance, he’s been getting offers since it came out. He hasn’t taken any of them, though, instead focusing on smaller things that he likes more. The TV show he’d spent a while filming in Texas had been cancelled, which was a shame because you really enjoyed watching TikTok edits of him in that.
Instead, he’d been waving off scripts his agents sent him. He’d been asked to do a screen test in a movie in the UK, but he didn’t seem to interested in it. The most interesting thing about it was that his screen test was apparently with Zendaya, so you’d encouraged him to go just to meet her.
Things are picking up again. Your agent’s sending you offers and auditions and after two years of not being on set you’re itching to get back.
But, getting back meant going back.
You’d settled in Columbus. You didn’t want to leave, but you and Mike both knew that you’d have to go back to New York.
It was something that you’d been talking about for a while, getting another place in New York. You’re fortunate enough that it’s something you’re able to afford, and it seems like a good idea. It doesn’t need to be discussed tonight, though.
Instead, you ask him quietly, “Are we ever gonna get married?”
Mike mused, “Do you want to?”
You’re playing with the longer strands of hair on the back of his neck. “I think I might. With you.”
“Yeah?” He asks. He feels so warm inside there’s glee practically pouring from him.
“Not right now, though,” you admit. “I think I want more of a career before I’m willing to become known as someone’s wife.” Mike knows exactly what you mean, and that even though you eventually want to be his wife, that regardless of what you’ve accomplished, from that moment on there will be people who know you exclusively as ‘Mike Faist’s wife.’ At this point in time, you’re not even known as his girlfriend, a fact that the two of you enjoy.
“You just let me know,” he hums. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
You’ve been together almost four and a half years now and still no one knows. You don’t really need people to.
You kiss his jaw and reach down to take off your heels, complaining about your feet. He takes them from you and watches as you make your way back towards your friends. He knows he’s going to ask you one day, and he knows you’ll say yes. The two of you know just how much you love each other. You don’t need anyone else to just yet.
TWELVE. november 2021
So, a new arrangement has been reached. You n’t living in New York permanently but you have a lease on a place together. You’re back to doing live press, with the movie finally being shown in theatres. To be completely honest, you’re pretty much done with press on this movie. When you were cast in it three years ago, you didn’t expect that you would still be doing it.
Mike is sympathetic but amused. They haven’t organised the screen test for that one movie yet but that’s because the director was working on another project and the one Mike had been scouted for had been pushed back for a short period.
Sometimes companies will send you a car to come to your interview, but you take the subway home. Mike comes with you most times, more than happy to come tag along and sit in a room with your stuff and bring you your water bottle between shoots.
“Thank you, baby,” you tell him genuinely the fourth time he does it. He kisses your forehead. “You didn’t have to come with me, I appreciate you.”
He hums as if the idea hadn’t occurred to him. “I need to earn my keep somehow, I’ve been your stay at home boyfriend for like two years.”
You giggle around the straw of your water bottle, softening at the way he reaches to take it from you. “And your services have been appreciated and they will be missed when you inevitably book again.”
It’s not something that you expect to be so comforted by. The knowledge that wherever you’re living - Ohio, New York, California, wherever, even if you’re in different states - that you just love being around him. No matter how much time he spends with you, he doesn’t get sick of you, you don’t get sick of him.
You’re infinitely happier when he’s within arms reach than when he’s not.
“Only book I care about is the one I’m reading over there,” he leans in to kiss you briefly. The director of the shoot gives out the five minute warning to roll into the next section, Mike takes your phone and water bottle and heads back to his corner.
It’s almost comedic, the way that the producer immediately starts the next section with asking you “Do you have a celebrity crush?”
You have to make a conscious effort to not look over at Mike, even though you know he’s watching you.
“Uh,” you laugh awkwardly, “I don’t really have one.”
Your coworkers’ faces are stone, and you don’t know if that make you want to laugh more or not. You keep your eyes directed straight at the barrel of the camera and you know everyone’s going to see how uncomfortable you are.
“I guess having one when…” you struggle to find the right words, “when you are where I am in life, is just kind of weird,” you laugh again. “It feels wrong, I don’t know.”
You finally let your gaze land on your boyfriend. He’s smiling at you, and you calm immediately knowing that even once you’re out of this building, back on the train to your one bedroom, your hand in his, sharing earbuds, he’ll be there.
THIRTEEN. april 2022
“Tell me again, what she said,” your feet are in Mike’s lap. You have people over, and you can’t imagine being happier. Your apartment is bustling, a charcuterie board that you are very proud of on the kitchen counter. You still have New Years decorations up, and there’s music playing. Mike got back from his screen test a week ago, and you’re revelling in his presence again.
Mike takes a sip of his drink and moves so he’s resting his arm on your calf. You have a few of your friends sitting on the sofas around you, hanging on to every word. “She told me to tell you-”
You interrupt him, too excited “She brought me up!” You giggle over your champagne.
Mike giggles, the side of his mouth pinching up with his smile. “Zendaya wanted me to tell you that she had just seen your most recent movie, and that she thought you were really good in it.”
You flail back so you’re resting on the arm of a friend. “Zendaya knows my name.”
One of your friends puts his drink down on the coffee table. “Don’t you guys have a Grammy in your bedroom, why are you surprised by this?”
“It’s not mine,” you roll your eyes, tipsy off the champagne and drunk on the party. “I would never take credit for my wonderful boyfriend’s accomplishment.”
“She’s taken so many selfies with it,” the friend you’re leaning on chimes in.
Mike laughs and almost as if by magnet you’re trying to get closer to him. Your head comes up beside his, resting on the wall behind the couch, his hand on the back of your neck.
You don’t even know what you’re celebrating. Just being able to have people over, having a space to have them in. Having someone you’d want to host a party with.
“Okay, and?” you shoot back. “You’ve taken selfies with me.”
He’s kissed the hollow of your collarbone, his hair, getting longer now, tickling your neck. You love him so much, you’re surprised there’s enough room in the apartment for all your guests with how much space it’s taking up.
The apartment itself is obviously a new development in your life, but the area isn’t. Just two streets over is the apartment you were living in when you met Mike. Barely furnished, not decorated, not lived in.
A place so physically close to the room you’re sitting in with a group of people you love more than life, but that couldn’t have possibly been further away. Now you have family pictures on the wall, you have his toothbrush right beside yours. You have a ticket to the show of Dear Evan Hansen you went and saw right when you two got together, sitting front row in the audience and marveling in the fact that the man onstage liked you, pride of place in your clear phone case. He has a ticket stub from that time a theatre in Columbus was playing a rerun of your feature film debut and he’d dragged you with him to go see it wedged in his. You have a delicate chain around your neck with an M on it so well hidden it might as well be lost to legend, he has your first initial hanging on his keychain.
It’s been five years, three lived-in states, several hundred shared meals, and an apartment just two streets away, but as you laugh at a story someone is telling, your cheek pressed against Mike’s, you’ve never felt closer to home.
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Mbappe angst where his family thinks you might be using him but then they see the real you and they feel bad
There for Him | KM9
Genre: fluffy angst (🤨?)
Words: 1.9 K
Synopsis: after his best friend’s funeral, you spend the night at Kylian’s family home to be there for him. Unintentionally, you prove to his family that everything they though of you was false.
A/N: took me a million years, but here you go, anon!! Hope you enjoy it 🥰.
⭐️⭐️⭐️
The rain was hard. As if the sky understood the hurt that was caused by the event you were standing in and was crying with you.
Your eyes never left him. You didn't get too close, though. You knew him too well to get too close too soon.
Someone else you tried to avoid at all costs was his family. Specifically his mother. She never was fond of you. Accusing you of all sorts of things ever since you started dating her son. Calling you a gold digger, someone who only pretended to he in love with her son because of all his fame and money.
But even his mother didn't know Kylian like you did. She didn't know that he loved cooking. She had no idea that dancing under the stars made his eyes sparkle, or that driving was the best way to relieve his stress.
Just like everybody else, she saw him as a guy passionate and extremely talented with football. The brightest star in everyone's world, but no one saw how you were the brightest in his world.
You, Kylian, his brother Eathan, and their parents got in the car to go home. Kylian rode in the passenger seat while his father drove. You, Ethan, and his mother rode in the back. You still kept your eyes on Kylian, not baring to see him this broken.
He was just telling you how important his best friend was to him, just to lose him in a car crash a few weeks later. He wasn't crying, though. He never did. You hated that. You always told him to cry. That it's bad to keep emotions unprocessed. He never listened, though.
Not able to look at his stone face any longer, you looked out the wet car window to the French streets on your way to his family home. Your mind drifted to all the unnecessary drama his mother would stir because of your stay with them for the coming days. You didn't want Kylian to worry about that. You sighed quietly, already earning a glare from her that you managed to ignore.
When his father parked in the drive way, everyone got out of the car and dragged themselves to the front door. The atmosphere was suffocating. You held everything in as much as you could. It was Kylian who lost his best friend after all. You had to be there for him.
While his family walked in, he waited for you, looking back at you from the top of the porch steps with a slightly outstretched hand. You got to him, took his hand, and squeezed it. You glanced in his direction, but he had already looked ahead, guiding you upstairs to his bedroom.
You feel his family's eyes on the two of you as you passed them to the stairs. You didn't care. This wasn't about your relationship or about you. This was about Kylian and his well being. So you just followed him, holding his hand more tightly.
You get to his bedroom and he pushes the door behind the two of you. You stood by it, watching your boyfriend's every move. He sat on his bed, hands intertwined between his spread legs. You watched him closely as you slowly made your way to him. He didn't look at you once and you took it as a sign to keep going.
You finally sat next to him. You didn't say a single thing. You weren't sure if you were even breathing at that point.
"He's gone, y/n" Kylian finally said softly. Your heart shattered into pieces and his eyes flooded.
You uncontrollably pulled him into you, wrapping your arms around his head that he buried into your chest. His sobs slowly got louder and deeper, tearing you into shreds. You quietly held him tight, letting him cry it all out.
Behind the not fully shut door of Kylian's room, his mother stood, watching you hold on to him as he cried into your chest. She never saw his guard this down. She's never seen her own son be this vulnerable with anyone ever. She's never seen anyone hold him the way you did either. Something about the scene softened a part of her cold heart towards you. She started questioning who you really were to him and how you felt towards her son.
A few hours pass and you had managed to convince Kylian to lie down. He rested his head on your lap as you stroked his head to sleep. You allowed yourself to shed a few tears, unable to keep it together anymore.
His mother still watched, checking on the both of you through the slit in the door. Seeing this new scene only made the warmth spread through her heart. However, she quickly walked away when she saw you get up, slowly lifting Kylian's head off your lap to not disturb his sleep.
You realized that Kylian hadn't eaten anything all day. You headed to the kitchen to make him something for when he wakes up. The bottom floor felt empty, having no one there. You wondered where everybody went, but you didn't give it much thought.
You opened the fridge, assessing the contents to get ideas of what you could make. You quickly looked behind you, though, having heard footsteps. You realize it's Kylian's mother. She had walked into the kitchen and sat on one of the kitchen island stools.
For a second, you stood there, watching her as you waited for her to attack you like she always did. She never wasted a chance to remind you of how she felt towards you. To falsely accuse you of all sorts of things. But when she didn't say anything, you turned back around to open the fridge.
You pulled out some turkey slices to make him a sandwich. You placed the ingredients on the kitchen island, Kylian's mother still watching you from across it. You focused on your task, careful not to trigger your boyfriend's mother who was scrutinizing your every move.
"Making food?" She finally spoke as you spread mayonnaise on one side of the white bread.
"For Kylian. He didn't eat anything since last night" you answered quietly, not looking at her. She still looked at you, though. Your heart picked up its pace, but you still avoided her gaze. You walked to the glasses cabinet, pulled out a glass and filled it with water.
After putting everything on a tray, you walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs. You got to Kylian's room and placed the tray on his bedside table. You sat on the edge of his bed, looking at his sleeping face.
"Y/n?" He stirred. You stroked his face.
"Yes, my love?" You whispered. He opened his eyes, and pulled you closer to him. You lied down next to him and he wrapped his arms tightly around you, kissing the top of your head.
You lied there. You let him hold you for as long as he wanted. You spent the night like that. None of you said anything. It was enough for him that he got to hold you. And it was enough for you that he did.
His mother watched all of it. How calm he was with you around. How he cried in your chest. The food you made for him because he hadn't eaten since the night before. She couldn't deny it anymore. You loved her son. More than she ever thought you could. And not for all the materialistic things that came with dating someone with a career like his.
She was sure of her son's feelings for you, how much you meant to him, because he never cried. She always thought he hated turkey sandwiches, but there he was eating it because you insisted, which also surprised her because ever since he was little, he never ate when he got sad or upset.
She watched you through the slightly opened door. She looked at the way you were looking at him. She wasn't sure if she, herself, ever looked at him like that.
"What are you smiling at?" She heard her husband whisper behind her. He looked at his son laughing for the first time in a week as you brushed bread crumbs from around his mouth.
Later that night, you walked down to the kitchen to fill a jug of water for the night you were spending. You weren't going to leave Kylian on a night like that.
His mother walked into the kitchen and sat on an island stool like she did earlier. You still ignored her presence and were on your way out of the kitchen when she called your name. You shut your eyes for a second before turning around to face her.
"Yes?" You replied cautiously. Even with the way she treated you, she was still Kylian's mother whom he loved and cherished more than anything. It killed you, but you had to respect her through everything she said and done to you. And it was about time she realized that.
You were taken aback by how soft her eyes were as she patted the seat next to her, inviting you to sit next to her at the kitchen island. You hesitated for a second before slowly making your way to the stool, setting the water jug in front of you.
You watched her closely, anticipating her next move. She just stared at her hands, though, sighing deeply before she turned to look at you.
"I owe you an apology" she broke the deafening silence. She shocked you so hard you almost fell out of your stool. You tried controlling you expressions, but you clearly failed because she quickly elaborated.
"I, I don't know how to start, honestly" she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. You just sat there in utter shock.
"Let's just say you've been absolutely supportive and I can tell that you've been an intangible source of comfort to Kylian ever since his best friend's passing" she went on. You pierced your lips and nodded once, looking at your hands in your lap. Silence took over for a few seconds before she kept going.
"I can tell he loves you a lot and..." she trailed off and you looked back at her.
"I'm actually really grateful to have someone like you in his life, given his career and all that comes with it, and especially during a hard time like this" she confessed and you couldn't help but tear up a little.
You smiled slightly at her and she did the same. You both stayed like that for a little while before she opened her arms. You laughed lightly and jumped off your stool to wrap your arms around her. She hugged you back tighter and you took it all in.
When you pulled away, you looked to your right and saw Kylian at the bottom of the stairs, smiling a little at the scene.
"You can't love her more than I already do, mom" he frowned, walking to you and pulling you to him. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head.
"You don't have to say it. The way you look at her says it all, Kylian" his mother replied, smiling at the both of you.
#football fic#football#football imagine#football imagines#football fics#football fluff#football angst#kylian#mbappe#kylian mbappe#kylian angst#kylian x you#kylian fluff#kylian x reader#kylian fanfic#kylian imagines#mbappe fanfics#mbappe imagines#mbappe one shot#mbappe fanfic#mbappe fluff#mbappe angst
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Snippet - Cooties - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO
Vi and Jinx reminisce about a lazy summer day...
Forward but Never Forget/XOXO
"Lose me? Or lose Powder?"
The question was posed lightly. But Vi sensed its weight. A spray of white sparks showered from the crane, the only light on the horizon. Vi's eyes burned, the way they did after a hard fight.
And the only way out was to fight harder.
"I miss her," she said, and the admission burnt a hole through her chest. "I miss the girl you were. The girl I could cheer up with a stupid joke, or a game, or just by braiding her hair. I miss knowing I could keep you safe just by tucking you into the crook of my arm."
Jinx stayed silent, her little finger twined with Vi's. Her warmth bled into Vi's skin. But it was a ghostly warmth, and Vi, suddenly afraid, longed to seize her sister's hand in both her own.
To hold on with everything she had.
"I remember the last time we came here," Vi went on. "You, me, Mylo, Claggor and Ekko. It was late afternoon. The sunlight was starting to bend in that wobbly way it does when you're running out of day. But the water was still warm, and I could see the sparkles on the surface. You and the boys were in the water, and I was watching from the ledge. I'd just had the crap kicked out of me in a street-brawl. There were bruises all over, and the chems in the water felt like salt rubbed in the cuts. But seeing you—laughing and splashing around—I just... I wanted to soak it in. Almost like I knew it'd be the last time."
Vi's eyes misted. She squeezed Jinx's pinky as tight as she dared.
"After, I must've dozed off. When I came to, the sky was all red. There was a little moon peeking behind the clouds. Mylo and Claggor were still swimming, and every stroke looked like a flame. I couldn't see you or Ekko. For a moment, I panicked, thinking maybe you'd drowned. Then I looked up, and there you both were, sitting right on this walkway. Both your heads were real close, and you were whispering to each other. There was something in Ekko's hands. All round and glittery. He was passing it to you. And then he—"
Jinx didn't move. But Vi swore something, a subdermal shiver, ran through her.
"He kissed me."
"He did." The mist in Vi's eyes blurred the cityscape—a rainbow caught in a raindrop. "A minute later, Mylo and Claggor started hooting. I realized they'd put him up to it. You burst into tears, and Ekko got all flustered, and I jumped to my feet. Mylo was closest to the ledge, so I grabbed him by the scruff, and dunked his ass under. Then I did the same to Claggor. By the time I was through, the two of 'em were coughing up a puddle. You'd run off, and Ekko was chasing after, babbling about how sorry he was, and that Mylo and Claggor'd told him if he didn't do it, you'd get a real kiss from a real boy, and wouldn't that be the saddest thing in the world?"
This time, a shiver did go through Jinx: a twinge that could've been a ghost-bite of laughter. Or tears.
"It was already the saddest thing in the world," she said. "He was showin' me a gyroscope he'd made outta a doorknob. But instead of a ball bearing, there was a glass marble inside. It was all sparkly, like a star, and had these different colors swirling around. I was trying to get a better look. Then Mr. Hot Lips went and planted a wet load of cooties on me. All while Mylo and Claggor howled like hyenas in the back. I was so angry. And, and confused. I nearly shoved him off the ledge."
"But you didn't." Vi's voice was husky. No tears, but close. "You ran straight to me."
"Straight to my Safe-Spot."
Vi squeezed Jinx's pinkie again, an impulse of tenderness. Together, they looked out at the dark water of the reservoir, a swipe of charcoal against glittering amber and gold.
"By then, Ekko was so scared, I thought he'd wet himself," Vi recalled. "That's the only reason I didn't smack him senseless. Instead, I gave him the what-for. He didn't say one word. Just stood there, sweating bullets, waiting for his doom. He was only ten, but I swear, he looked five. So did you, the way you were clinging to me. Like a pair of drowned kittens. But after I'd wound down, the first thing Ekko did was go up to you, super-serious, and tell you he was real sorry. He swore he'd never do it again. And when you looked at him, all doubtful, he held out the gyroscope, and said, 'D'you want it? I made it for you.'"
Jinx's eyes had gone half-lidded. Her profile, touched by the secondhand radiance, held a pensive prettiness. "I remember. I took the gift. And when he tried to give me a hug, I slugged him in the arm."
"He deserved it."
"Totally."
Vi could see the crooked little smile at the corner of Jinx's mouth. Her own, at a matching angle, ached with the bone-deep familiarity of it.
"The whole way back, I gave Mylo and Claggor the stink-eye. They were terrified I'd tell Vander what they'd done. So they hauled our gear without a peep. I followed, with my arm around your shoulder. Ekko brought up the rear, all quiet and gloomy. By the time we got to the Drop, I'd worked myself into a good head of steam. I was ready to kick those two jackasses out of our room for the night. Before I could open my mouth, Vander hurried out and told us to get our asses indoors. There were Enforcers in the Lanes, and there'd be a shootout." Her smile faded. "We spent the night barricaded in the basement, with gunfire raging outside. Ekko stayed over too. You'd both made up by then. I remember, you were huddled together, the gyroscope spinning between you two, its colors flickering over the walls. You didn't care about the bullets. You were—happy. As happy as two kids with a brand-new toy. After, Ekko fell asleep in the hammock. You curled up against me, still holding the gyroscope. As you drifted off, all I could think was: I'll protect her. Always. I'll be her Safe-Spot, no matter what."
Jinx’s dipped lashes struck shadowy crowns against her cheeks. Her lower-lip quivered, then stilled. "No matter what, huh?"
"I just mean... I miss it. The certainty." Vi swallowed. "I miss that I didn't have to fight the whole damn world just to be your big sister. Because the truth is... you don't need me. Not anymore. The past's gone, and it's not coming back. There's only one direction. Forward. Some mornings, right when I wake up, I can almost buy it. Like we've got a second shot, and we can make it work."
"But?"
The query was posed without rancor. But its implications sunk like a stone in Vi's heart.
"But..." Salt clogged Vi's throat, and it hurt like hell. "But the next minute, I open my eyes. And the past's right there, and I can’t forget. I can never forget. Because you're not in the crook of my arm anymore. You're moving at light-speed, and I'm trying to keep up, and I can't. Not with the deadweight on my back. So much of who I am, built on who I used to be. The girl who kept her word, and kept you safe, and made Vander proud. And every day, I fall short, because the only way to move on is to let the deadweight go." The salt was pooling behind her lids, too; a wash of light and dark. "I can't do it. I can't let you go. Because if I do... I let go of myself."
#arcane#arcane league of legends#arcane silco#forward but never forget/xoxo#silco#forward (never forget)/xoxo#arcane jinx#jinx#arcane violet#vi#arcane ekko#ekko#jinx and vi#jinx and ekko#jinx x ekko#ekko x jinx#ekkojinx#timebomb
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how did will communicate through the lights in season 1?
In season one we see him make the lights flicker in the living room for Joyce, spelling out “run” and such, and we don’t really see the other side of this until, well, The Other Side comic—which I’m not 100% sure how much of this comic is supposed to be taken canonically.
Will is hiding in the cupboard, trying to communicate with his mom, when he hears her beg him to communicate with her, asking where he is. He looks up and suddenly sees the alphabet wall, saying, “Mom…you’re a genius,” and touches the letters on the wall, spelling out, R-I-G-H-T-H-E-R-E.
In the show, we just see the lightbulbs light up in the real world, but in the comic, we see Will in the Upside Down just simply touch the letters on the wall, creating this sort of blue electricity.
(I know it’s in Portuguese, just bear with me i couldn’t find the English version for u all)
season 4 shows otherwise:
In s4 we finally get a glimpse of how things work in the Upside Down. When Nancy, Steve, Robin, and Eddie are in the Wheeler’s house on the other side looking for Nancy’s guns in episode 7, they hear Dustin talking to Erica. The group tries to get his attention, but he can’t hear them. Nancy then remembers how Will found a way to speak to Joyce; through the lights. They try the light switches and lamps but nothing works, until Steve shines the flashlight on the ceiling chandelier, which begins to sparkle with magical fairy looking dust. They discover that touching this gold dust around the light produces light on the other side, and the viewers conclude that’s how Will must have communicated in season one.
but there are some things i just don’t get:
- How did the letters magically appear on the wall in the Upside Down?
- If the Byers’ house really is stuck on November 6th, 1983, how did Will speak to Joyce through the lights (that she bought at Melvald’s) when they weren’t even there on the day that he disappeared?
Season 4 clearly shows that you can only communicate through touching the dust around the already existing lights in the Upside Down to communicate with the other plane of existence, so how did Will manipulate the lights WITH HIS MIND in The Other Side comic?
translation:
Will: Mom! I’m here! I’m somewhere, I don’t—”
Joyce: Good, good, good. Blink once for yes…twice for no… Can you do that for me, sweetie?
Will: You…can’t hear me? What does blink mean? How will you—”
Joyce: Oh, good boy. Good boy.
Will: Is that light? Is that…her somehow?”
Joyce: Baby, I need to know. Are you alive?
Will: I…I don’t know for sure. But I think I am.
Will wanted the lights to flicker, so he MADE THEM FLICKER ! hello? I’m not a big Will-powers truther but if that’s not the case then I don’t understand how this makes sense in the comic & the show.
but how does it actually work?
Now, they kind of try to get out of this confusing plothole/mixup by showcasing this:
the idea that if something is moved on the normal plane where someone could theoretically access its ghost---or where it's supposed to be---in the Upside Down, then they could essentially still manipulate the light source.
(This is also the case when Will touches the alphabet wall. There are technically no lights on his plane, but the lights are still sensed from the regular Hawkins plane of existence.)
The group has Dustin move the Lite-Brite toy in Stranger things so they could draw IN THE AIR where the toy is in actual Hawkins, which does not add up to me because their light source (which I’m assuming the gold dust is coming from) is from the regular plane & not the Upside Down, but I guess makes sense as to how Joyce was able to move lamps & lights around their home/Will's room in season 1 and still have Will able to communicate, even though the house would not have looked the same in the Upside Down because of it being stuck on November 6th.
which brings me to the question,
how did Will know about all the lights & lamps in his bedroom and around the home (besides the alphabet wall, which he could somehow see) in season 1?
HE COULDN'T.
This is proven in The Other Side comic when Joyce tells him to "blink."
"What does blink mean?" he asks, and then my precious boy LITERALLY BLINKS (he closes his eyes) and somehow the lights flicker.
After season 4 came out, I saw so many people say things like, "Why are we just now finding out how Will communicated in the Upside Down? Why didn't Will tell everyone sooner?"
Guys... MY BOY DID NOT KNOW !😭
He wasn't touching magical fairy dust with his hands or playing with Lite-Brite's. He was literally closing his eyes and just making it happen.
HOWEVER..
The alphabet appearing on the wall in the Upside Down still makes no sense in the story, as we’re shown that everything should be the same as it was the day Will disappeared. While things in Hawkins CAN be moved around & “sensed” in the Upside Down (lights, lamps, sound, etc), the actual core can’t be physically changed because it’s stuck in time.
“But what if things that are changed in Hawkins are also changed in the Upside Down Hawkins?”
This is obviously impossible, shown in season 4 episode 7, right before the group discovers the light phenomenon, when Nancy looks for her guns and realizes they’re not there because it is stuck in time. Therefore, Will somehow seeing the alphabet wall in the Upside Down makes no sense. Him making it light up DOES makes sense, however, according to season 4 logic, but him seeing it doesn’t seem to fit with the narrative the Duffers have created surrounding light sources within the Stranger Things universe.
so, does will have powers?
I am personally not super big on the Will Byers powers theories, but honestly there aren’t many explanations as to how exactly he manipulated flickering the lights in season 1 and The Other Side comic. In the s5 teaser released yesterday, we see behind-the-scenes of young Will falling out of a tree in the Upside Down.
That, paired with the older BTS photo of young Will laying in Castle Byers,
means that we’re finally getting Will’s side of the story way back from s1, so we’ll be able to see how much of The Other Side is actually canon !
#stranger things#will byers#stranger things 5#st5#byler#noah schnapp#will byers has powers#stranger things theories
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Would you be interested in writing a one-shot story of Lucio X Reader (The Arcana)? Like, it’s about people noticing that you two are genuinely in love, and it surprises the former.
A Day Off Together
|| Count Lucio x nonbinary!reader
|| Warnings; none, just fluff and flirty Lucio, short drabble
|| Summary; when Lucio and reader go through the market, a certain stall catches their eyes.
Requests open!
Started; November 2nd
Finished; November 2nd
~~~
To say people were surprised by you and Lucio... would be an understatement. Nobody would have expected the Count to fall so head over heels for anyone that wasn't his own reflection. He was absolutely smitten by you in every sense of the word. Even Nadia was surprised by his behaviour; as this was not the Count she used to know. And definitely not the man she had once called her husband.
Today was a beautiful day in the market. So, Lucio and you decided to go through on a stroll. Lucio made sure you knew that he would get you anything you asked for. Hell, if you wanted an entire market stall? It would be yours. All you would have to do is ask. Hand in hand the two of you walked. Just appreciating being in the presence of each other. Somedays it feels as though you don't get to see him as much as you'd like, with his duties as Count and yours as Court Magician. It was a much needed break for the both of you. A day off together.
You had originally planned on not getting anything. Not wanting your lover to spend more than needed, but- a stall caught your eyes. Well, how could it not? It practically called for attention in its beautiful sparkling gems that glittered in the sun. You were drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Lucio smirked. He knew how you worked by now, he wasn't as stupid as people pegged him for. He knew you. And knew you had originally come in not wanting anything other than each other's presence on a nice walk through the market. Internally he was laughing to himself and at you, only just a bit. In the most lighthearted way possible, of course. Wondering how you could have ever thought you would come into the market and not get a thing. He knew something would catch your eyes eventually. As they often did.
"Lucio.." You breathed, eyes wide in awe as you took in all the gems. Sparkling so bright you were sure they had to be enchanted, though you sensed no magic. They just caught the sunlight in all the right ways. Your fingers brushed feather light touches against a jewel, a jewel that was attached to a thin rose gold chain. The jewel itself was your favourite crystal. You'd noticed it before you even got to the stall. And you knew you had to have it. Lucio's hand came and rested on your shoulder, a gentle smirk on his lips as he saw the necklace you were admiring.
"You don't even have to ask, my love." He kissed your cheek, making you smile at the gesture. He had a real soft spot for you.
"We'll take this one here. And any one with the same crystals." Lucio told the stall owner, who quickly nodded and raced around his stall. Collecting the jewelry and putting them in little pouches for you. Lucio gave you a wink and your cheeks flushed.
"I only wanted the one-" You had started to say, but Lucio laughed and shook his head.
"Why settle for one when your beauty knows no bounds? It wouldn't be right." His arms wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you in close which got a giggle out of you. God, he was ridiculous. But he was yours. You loved him more than anything.
The merchant watched the two of you as he focused on his tasks, his eyes going to the Count. In all the years he's known him, this would have to be the most relaxed Lucio has ever been. It was surprising. He didn't think it was possible for someone to reel in such a free spirit as the Count; but it seems you have done just that. And all of Vesuvia was thankful for you. Lucio's been much more tolerable lately.
With your new jewelry, you and Lucio made your way out of the market. Lucio's hands came up from your hips, gently taking the pouch that held the necklace you'd originally wanted. He took it out of its holdings and rested it to your neck. A soft smile on his lips as he attached it to you. Earning a blush from you.
"You look absolutely perfect.." He murmured, gently pushing your hair aside and leaving a kiss on the skin there. His lips brushing the back of your neck in a way that made you shiver.
"Mm... thank you." You whispered back and his golden fingers latched around your hand. Intertwining with your own fingers.
"My pleasure." He winked at you and the two of you headed home to the palace.
#fanfic#x reader#canon x reader#nonbinary reader#the arcana fiction#the arcana fanfics#lucio x gender neutral reader#count lucio x mc#count lucio x reader#count lucio#lucio x mc#lucio the arcana#lucio arcana#lucio x reader#count lucio x gender neutral reader#lucio morgasson#lucio x nonbinary reader#count lucio x nonbinary reader#fluff#the arcana x reader#the arcana#lucio fluff#reneesghostinthelivingroom
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Under a Grey Sky : Bonus part
The original story
Older men x fem!reader
Music to listen to for the atmosphere : A fathers song_allen stone
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The morning light gently broke through the curtains when Armand was awakened by small taps on his shoulder. Y/n, now three years old, had slipped out of her bed and stood there, barefoot, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and seriousness.
“Papa! Mama came last night,” she said clearly.
Armand immediately sat up, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.
“Mama?”
“Yes! She came to my room, and we talked a lot. She told me I have to tell you some important things.”
He placed a hand on his daughter’s small shoulder, looking at her with a mix of tenderness and curiosity. A flicker of worry passed through his mind—what if someone had somehow entered her room during the night? But he wasn’t prepared for what came next.
“All right, my little star. Tell me everything.”
Y/n climbed onto the bed, sitting cross-legged, and took a deep breath, as if preparing for a long speech.
“Mama said she loves me very much, but I already knew that,” she added with a hint of pride.
Armand smiled softly, his heart tightening.
“And she said to tell you that she loves you too. Very, very, very much. That you’re a great papa, but… you work too much!”
He lowered his gaze, a sad smile playing on his lips.
“She said that, huh?”
Y/n nodded vigorously.
“Yes! And she told me to say, "I’ve been proud of him for a long time, but he needs to rest."”
She paused, taking another breath, as if reciting a carefully memorized lesson.
“And she said you have to stop burning cakes.”
Armand burst into laughter despite himself, surprised by the comment.
“Oh, really?”
Y/n crossed her arms, mimicking her mother’s mock-serious expression.
“Yes! She said, "Tell him to stop looking at my recipe book like it’s made of gold. He should open it, and then you two can finally eat real cakes, not charcoal!"”
His laughter softened, replaced by a bittersweet feeling. The words were so typical of Y/n’s mother that they felt like a warm embrace.
“She always knew how to make me blush,” he murmured.
But little Y/n wasn’t finished.
“She told me one more thing, Papa. She said to tell you that… that you’re perfect just the way you are. That you’re doing your best, and she’s always proud of you.”
Armand closed his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by emotion. His daughter continued, unaware of the tears welling up in her father’s eyes.
“And she said she loves it when I sing my songs. Even if I sing badly. And that you have to keep encouraging me because she wants me to be happy.”
Y/n smiled brightly, clearly proud of this last point.
“And she said I had to give you a big kiss from her.”
Before he could respond, Y/n leaned in and planted a loud kiss on his cheek.
“There!”
Armand pulled her into his arms, holding her close as if she were the fragile but powerful bridge between him and his beloved.
“Thank you, my little star,” he murmured, his voice trembling.
That morning, after dropping Y/n off at preschool, Armand went straight to the kitchen. He took a deep breath and, for the first time in years, opened Y/n’s mother’s recipe book. The pages were filled with her familiar handwriting, little notes, and playful doodles.
He smiled, his eyes glistening with tears, and whispered:
“You’re right, Y/n. It’s time I did something good with this.”
That day, he carefully baked a cake. When it came out of the oven, perfectly golden, he looked up toward the sky and said with a smile:
“So, what do you think? Not bad for a start, huh?”
And in his heart, he thought he could hear her laughter—clear and teasing—as if answering him from the past.
---
The days passed, and Armand often found himself lost in the gentle memories of y/n. His daughter, little y/n, with her wide, curious eyes and vibrant smiles, had become the bridge between the past and the present—a living connection to the love he had lost. Every burst of laughter, every song she sang, every little gesture she made carried within it the imprint of y/n, her mother.
One morning, as they were tidying up y/n’s toys before heading to preschool, she handed him a small package carefully wrapped in colorful paper.
“This is for you, Papa. It’s a secret.”
Armand, a bit surprised, took the package and slowly unwrapped it. Inside, he found a small wooden box she had decorated with drawings, glitter, and hearts. Within the box were simple but meaningful objects: a small photo of the two of them, pieces of fabric she had cut out, stones she had picked up during their walks—a tiny world of y/n, a world full of love captured in ordinary things.
“This is my treasure, Papa. For you. So you’ll always think of me, even when I’m not here.”
Armand held the box to his chest, deeply moved, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and heartache. A tear welled up in the corner of his eye.
“But... you’re always here, my little one,” he murmured, his voice breaking with emotion.
Y/n looked at him with a seriousness surprising for her age.
“Yes, but like Mama, even when I’m gone, you’ll have this to remember me.”
Armand felt a weight settle in his chest. There were no words to describe what he felt—just a profound, ineffable love that overwhelmed him whenever his daughter spoke such words.
A few days later, Armand took little y/n by the hand and led her to the cemetery, a place that had become sacred to him. Y/n’s mother’s grave was always adorned with fresh flowers, the decorations changing with the seasons. That day, he had prepared a small picnic, including a cake he had made himself—still unsure of his skills but determined to get it right.
Under the weeping willow, y/n ran to the gravestone and, as usual, sat down in front of it.
“Hi, Mommy,” she said cheerfully, a big smile on her face.
Armand stood beside her, his eyes on the gravestone but his whole being focused on little y/n, who seemed to know exactly what she wanted to say.
“Mommy, I love you. And Papa does too. But Papa works too much. Tell him to stop sometimes so he can be with us. He’s already amazing, but he needs to rest.”
Armand closed his eyes for a moment, a faint smile on his lips. Y/n’s words, simple and direct, struck a little too close to home.
“We’ll be leaving soon, Mommy. But we’ll come back. All the time.”
She then leaned toward the gravestone as if placing a kiss on it and added:
“We’ll come back, with cakes… Yes, my Papa can make edible cakes now. Can you believe it Mommy ?”
Armand burst into laughter, his throat tight. It was so like y/n—full of life and love, with the innocent perspective of a child who didn’t yet fully grasp the weight of goodbyes.
Back home, after putting y/n to bed, Armand found himself alone in the living room, the wooden box still in his hands. He stared at it for a long time, almost as if trying to decipher a mystery. He opened it again, rediscovering each object, each gesture filled with meaning. Y/n’s drawings, the stones, everything that had been a piece of her world.
He stood up, walked to the kitchen, and, for the first time in months, opened y/n’s mother’s recipe book. His hands trembled slightly as he turned the pages. There were notes, laughter captured in words, bursts of life and love, clumsy but affectionate cooking tips. He began to cook slowly and carefully. Today, he would get it right. Today, he would honor that book and all that it represented.
The cake came out of the oven, perfectly golden. As he looked at it, Armand felt an overwhelming sense of quiet love, as if he weren’t alone. As if, in some way, y/n was still there—in every gesture, every thought, every failed or successful cake.
He looked up toward the sky, a faint smile on his lips.
“Are you proud of me, y/n?”
And deep in his heart, he thought he could hear a silent answer, a breath of eternal love, telling him that yes, y/n would always be there, in every part of his world.
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Tags list: @elizalabs3 @slvt4her
#older man younger woman#oldermen#older guys#x female reader#x fem!reader#x reader#black fem reader#x black reader#vintage#love story#jcw#ji chang wook#Spotify#older men do it better#older man <3#older men are hot#older male#kdrama fic#kdrama#yandere x darling#yandere x reader#yanblr#yan blog
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More HSR X TWST Yuus!
I am still on the idea of HSR characters at NRC thanks to @enatopiaa, so I made more with picrew!
First, Misha!Yuu, from @lazy0bear
The little bellhop from the Reverie Hotel. He wears shorts with his uniform. He feels quite at home in Ramshackle and manages to clean it up pretty well.
He's clumsy AF! He can trip over nothing and everything all at once.
He's really good at cleaning (because he was a bellhop).
He also has a hard time saying no to people so he gets taken advantage of a lot by the other students, especially the bigger ones, and Azul and the Tweels.
Luckily, he has his friends who are trying to teach him how to say no.
Leona and Malleus both see him as a little squirrel or mouse.
Vil gave him the hair clips to keep his hair out of his face.
Next, for @sunrisei Natasha!Yuu
The new school nurse. She changes up her look in order fit in more and look more professional.
Half of the students and staff have a crush on her. Students will skip class or clubs to see her, even faking injuries to get close to her. She sees right through them and sends them off with a pat on the head.
Vargas repeatedly flirts with her while she works. She doesn't know what to think about that.
During Book 2, she nearly loses her mind over all the injuries. She nearly shots Leona's head off with her gun during the Overblot fight. After that, no one messes with her.
She does care for the students and is fastened by their Unique Magics. She studies them and asks the students questions about them when they visit.
@sunlightocean, you read my mind about Sparkle!Yuu
This girl, is a menace to NRC. Everyone is fooled by her innocent appearance at first, but quickly learns real fast not to mess with someone who plans Russian Roulette.
She still wears her hair ribbons and red sandals from her base outfit.
Some boys try to flirt with her and get hurt. Some make of her for her childish nature and get hurt.
She may or may not be the reason for some of the boys OB.
She likes to disguise herself as other students to fool or trick them. This leads to headaches (and heartaches) everywhere.
Mind games, all day everyday.
And finally, Asta!Yuu
Rich girl with a heart of gold and brains to match. Despite her rich upbringing, she doesn't like to flaunt her wealth and is tired of the rich lifestyle.
She can relate to Kalim the most because they both grew up privileged. She helps him understand that Jamil has his own problems and worries outside of his own. And she teaches him to not spend so much money.
Her intelligence makes her one of NRC's most promising students. She starts/joins the Astrology Club.
She building her own telescope to see the stars better. The Shroud brothers are helping her and they get along well.
And finally, for me, Boothill!Yuu!
Menace to NRC Part 2 Electric Boogaloo! He's not as much as a menace as Sparkle though.
Space Cyborg Cowboy? Your are the Shrouds new best friend! They are also the only ones who can help Boothill keep up his maintenance.
Ortho is begging his brother to make him a gear like Mr. Boothill's. Please big brother? 🥺
Everyone is surprised that Boothill doesn't swear. There's a bit of a contest between NRC students to see who can get him to swear.
He and Rook have shooting matches from time to time. Guns vs Bows.
He's also part of the Equestrian Club, and he's surprisingly really good at it.
why yes i am pushing my robinxboothillxargenti agenda, why do you ask? these three are a trio do not separate
#my posts#twisted wonderland#twst#honkai star rail#hsr#hsr misha#misha hsr#hsr natasha#natasha hsr#school nurse natasha#hsr sparkle#sparkle hsr#hsr asta#asta hsr#hsr boothill#boothill hsr#twst yuu#twst mc#disney twst#disney twisted wonderland
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Everything Has Changed
Jake x MC First Kiss One Shot
Words: 1.4K
I had a sudden burst of inspiration to write a super fluffy kiss for Jake and MC today. I needed something warm and comforting before I dive back into winter and war. I haven't named MC this time, nor have I described her too deeply. Jake has discovered he wants more than he ever thought possible, and now he is free; he won't allow it to slip through his fingers.
Sickeningly sweet, fluffy, and hopeful. I hope you enjoy it. It’s from Jakes POV.
Jake
All he could do was stare at her. Sitting on that park bench, unblinking, hands trembling, breath tight, and his heart was lodged somewhere in his throat, feeling the rapid beats in his neck and ears. Still, he wanted to be here, with her. This woman who dragged him kicking and screaming out of exile, and made him want, made him need more than solitude and the soft glow of a laptop screen. For the first time in years, Jake wanted more, more, more. He gazed into her welcoming eyes, fractured with gold and amber light, sparkling under the late afternoon sun as she studied his face. She said all of two words, and he was dumbstruck.
"Hello, Jake."
A yearning to hear her say his name every day made thinking hard. And the lilting, musical quality of her voice would forever be inked into his soul. He hoped it would haunt him until his last days, he knew somehow that he'd follow it anywhere, and after all they'd gone through to be here, he wouldn't take a second for granted. She was smiling at him, dimples flashing in her cheeks as they bloomed wild with pink roses, and he wondered how they managed to get here. He still hadn't replied, but he didn't need to.
She edged closer, reaching out to ghost her fingers tentatively over the back of his hand as he fidgeted as if making sure he was real, and it settled him enough to breathe her name. A prayer or a plea? He wasn't entirely sure, and he acted without thinking as she made to withdraw, blowing out a breath as he caught hold of her small hand in his and squeezed gently. Her eyes widened a fraction, but soon, she beamed at him, and they were leaning into each other, neither realizing they were doing it.
"What do we do now?" She whispered.
He chuckled slightly at her, relieved she was as uncertain as he, and he took strength from it.
"Whatever we want, I suppose." He replied, the words strange on his rusty tongue.
She thought about it; his pulse flickered rampantly in his neck as a gentle breeze ruffled her hair and carried her scent to him. Inhaling deeply, his raging heart calmed as her sweet, sensual perfume tickled his nose. It was as beautiful as she, though he admired her bravery and sharp mind, her ability to adapt and survive more than her appearance. Jake didn’t know where to begin with sorting through his emotions. There were so many he refused to acknowledge during his time on the run. Now they demanded release and he no longer wanted to feel nothing.
Usually, he dealt with facts and data. He had no time or room for the softer, often terrible emotions that came with allowing someone inside the steel fortress he erected around himself to ensure his survival. It was an empty life, a half-life, and he no longer wanted it, hadn't since she dropped into his life. Unexpected and unwanted at first, but now, he hoped she never left and could see similar thoughts ripple through her bottomless eyes as she came even closer.
"What do you want to do then, Jake?" She asked, a laugh in her tone as warmth washed over him. Embarrassed at being so inept at simple conversation.
How long had it been since someone asked him that question? He wasn't sure but was so surprised he blurted what he wanted from the moment they'd locked eyes, "Would it be alright if I wanted to kiss you?"
If his heart beat any harder, it would burst out of his chest, and he smothered an urge to hit himself for being so forward. It wasn't like him, but everything he did after meeting her had been abnormal. Why change things now when he so enjoyed her company and the way she gazed at him, like she couldn't believe he was real and was trying to memorize him. He was doing the same, determined to never forget even one of the freckles scattered like a constellation over the bridge of her nose. The world around them blurred in his periphery, all he saw was her, glowing delicately as she nodded, and he couldn't quite believe he wasn’t dreaming. Lifting his free hand, ignoring the quiver in his fingers as he tucked her loose hair behind her ear, cupping her face reverently as her eyes fluttered closed.
He couldn't recall the last time he kissed someone, a sudden worry that he'd forgotten how was quickly pushed aside as he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers and marveled at how soft they were. She held her breath as he did it again, delicately mapping their feel and shape as she tightened her hold on his hand, a thread of sweet anticipation between them going taught. He wanted to know if she tasted as honeyed as she looked. He wasn't prepared for the burst of magnificent heat and light in his chest as she pushed in and silently encouraged him, her hand coming up to wrap around his nape and tangle in his hair.
Lips tingling, a shiver dripped down his spine, and the voice in his head went blessedly quiet as she opened her mouth with a sigh and let him inside. Instinctively, he tilted his head to deepen it as he tasted her on his tongue, tangling with hers as her fingers buried in his hair. His thumb stroked her cheekbone, she trembled, and he savored the feel of her, braver now. His stomach dipped and fluttered as they smiled into the kiss, each tender caress of their tongues bolder than the last as they taught one another the silent secret code of new love. Blood raced through his veins so fast he was dizzy, cheeks burning as he upped the pressure, and she responded eagerly when he slid his hand into her hair and pulled her impossibly closer.
A strange buzzing in his ears drowned out the birds and the shuddering tree leaves as the warm breeze swirled through the forest around them. Blind to it all, neither wanted it to end, and he was warm to his marrow for the first time in years, the ice shell encasing his heart melting away so quickly it was like it had never been there at all. Months ago, he couldn't have dreamt of this, wouldn't allow himself to out of fear he'd slip and end up in prison, taking her down with him. But all of that was passed, and they had been gifted the chance at a future together if they so wished. Choice. They could choose. He couldn't remember what choices were, but he was ready and willing to relearn with her for as long as they were given. He didn't plan to waste a second of it. There was already so much he had to catch up on.
Imprinting the feel and taste of her into his mind and heart, he reluctantly pulled back. Kissing the corners of her sweet mouth, swallowing her breathless laugh as he couldn't resist stealing one last lingering kiss. Face flushed, eyes aglow with golden light, she was a vision of loveliness and hope. Home. He no longer felt adrift in a cold, furious sea. She was warmth and comfort, steel and silk, all wrapped up in a deceivingly fragile body. He silently promised to never run from her, never hide, or let go.
They had time to learn and grow with each other. Time to settle down and make new lives together. His future always looked bleak, dark, and impossible before she waltzed inside his head and refused to leave. Now, all he saw was sunshine, and though he was aware they would face many storms throughout their lives, they would weather them together, and that was the difference. He wouldn't face them alone anymore. And neither would she.
No longer a victim of circumstance and misfortune, he still couldn't believe the hands of fate had finally woven something extraordinary for him. After all he suffered, it was difficult to trust it, but he knew that distrust would dissipate in time. He recognized similar disbelief in her glorious eyes, and it eased him enough to speak his mind.
"Where do we go from here?" He murmured, tone rough with searing emotion as her eyes lined with silver and her grin turned watery.
"Wherever we want. But first, let's go home." She all but whispered.
Home. He would have to get used to that but found he was very much looking forward to discovering where they would be ten years from now. As they rose on weak legs, and their hummingbird hearts took flight, he let go of who he thought he should be and realized he was excited to find out who he could be. Hand in hand, they left their park bench oasis behind, and began the short walk home.
***************
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for any comments, likes, and reblogs if you feel so inclined.
Part two: Sweeter Than Fiction
#fanfic#duskwood fanfiction#duskwood#duskwood fandom#duskwood everbyte#fanfiction#jake x mc#duskwood game#duskwood mc#duskwood hacker#duskwood jake#duskood one shot#duskwood oneshot#oneshot#first kiss#fluff#fluff and romance#hope#romance fanfiction#duskwood family#fanfiction writer#i wrote this in one sitting#short fiction#romance#duskwoodlover#love#creative writing#fluffy#fluff and love#fluff and feels
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22 for Kit
one more for "...in a rush of adrenaline."
~*~
Scarcely could Themis hold himself off the floor, a hand to his chest as he gasped in shock from injuries. Injuries she had once again inflicted upon him. "I am no longer needed." He turned his face up toward her, eyes wide in a panic despite the pained efforts he made to remain calm. Likely for her sake. But she saw in them the moment the spell which held him broke. The moment he was released once again from servitude.
He was fading away. Light suffused him, gold and glittering, the vestiges of his aether beginning to dissipate. In that same instance she knew he knew her once more. Every true and terrible thing he'd said while under Athena's hold a cloud of guilt in those sparkling eyes which had and would forevermore haunt her since she'd met him in Elpis.
"Kit?" he asked as lucidity returned, a turn in him she knew too well, coming once again too late to give them time to say all which needed said between them.
"No." She did not think. She never thought when it came to him. She was never allowed time to think when it came to him. She held her palm toward him, the aether channeling before she ever realized she was doing it. "Do not leave me already."
"The warmth. Your aether." His mouth widened, caught open as he grasped for words. She did not know how she'd done it, bound herself to him. Only that she had things she needed to say, and the only way they would get that was if she stole the time for them. He'd taught her once the things which could be accomplished through desperation, and she was nothing if not desperate.
He spoke of duty, hers and his, as was always at the fore of their every interaction. The root of everything which denied them one another. Still he held a hand over his heart where she'd watched her aether seep into him. She knew he was not real, little more than a cruel trick played by an equally cruel woman who now demanded her focus and attention. Yet he was all she had. All she would get. He had to be enough. Maybe her aether could sustain him long enough. Maybe not.
She took a knee before him and grasped his face in her hands. He felt real. Warm. Soft. Feathered hair slipping as easily between her fingers as he himself always did. "I am coming back for you." She kissed him, desolate and miserable to leave him again, hard enough to bruise her lips if that would be the only token she could take with her. "I will save you."
He pressed his brow to hers. "You already have." Real or not, he laid a hand at her cheek and leaned to kiss her once more, breath and heartbeat the only accompaniment to her impending loss. "Go, my guiding star. See it all set to right, that naught we did to save it was in vain."
It was not enough. It would never be enough. But it was all they had.
#ffxiv#kit hareington#themis#elidibus#wolidibus#elidibus x wol#from the annals of my askholebox#vespidaequeen#ask memes#fic memes#kiss prompts#i never get tired of writing for them omg
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Seventy Two Hours of Bliss Ch. 23/41
Chapter 23: So Hot I Can't Stop
Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, cunnilingus, fingering, anal fingering (f. receiving), masturbating, squirting, unprotected PiV (play safe ya'll!)
Series Masterlist
Series Summary:
You are neighbors with Austin Butler on the Gold Coast of Australia just prior to shooting Elvis. You become just friends because he is taken. However, after he is single again, you both find out just how attracted you are to one another and things get unrelentingly hot.
SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, here there be lemons.
Authors Notes: I started writing this while remodeling my kitchen, so that informed the slightly quirky narrative. It starts slow, but once it heats up, it is on fire. I have tried to pull facts from RL as much as I could, but obviously there are some assumptions and flat out dreamy wishes involved here.
Chapter 23: So Hot I Can't Stop
Rita stopped by a few days ago. She Ooo’d and Ahh’d over the finished bathroom. She had called all the references you gave her, they had nothing but glowing things to say about you. She really wants you to do their house in Greece. You explained to her the timeline you are working with right now and that especially if you get the Antarctica job, it will probably be a year before you can do it. She’s cool with that.
She had asked a few questions about Austin, with a glint in her eye. You answered honestly, that you'd not seen him in a few days, even though he is graciously letting you use his kitchen. She just nodded knowingly, uh huh. She commented that Tom is totally impressed with him and that this will be his big breakthrough role. You had agreed, he is impressive, your own glint sparkling.
It’s been about 5 days since you’ve seen Austin. A couple times, you think he came in late at night and slept curled around you for a few hours. The dent in the pillow next to you in the morning was a tell-tale sign.
Since you are using his kitchen, you made a dinner plate for him and left it in his fridge with a note each night. It’s gone every morning, so you know he’s been home. You passed a few texts between you each day, but you have both been busy.
Today is painting day.
You are decked out in your preferred outfit for painting: a white tank top and panties, plus mask and goggles and noise canceling earbuds. You finish spraying the last wall and stop to dance and sing to the song playing in your ears.
“It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life For me”
You look up and see Austin is leaning on the front door, arms crossed, watching you with a grin on his face, key dangling on his finger.
“And I’m feeling good!” you sing the last line at him and laugh.
He looks delicious in a white t-shirt and tan slacks. He is barefoot.
“How long have you been there?” you ask in a mask-muffled voice, taking out your earbuds.
“Long enough.” he laughs, looking you up and down, “Not that I’m complaining, but why are you mostly naked, you are covered in little specks of paint!”
You take off your goggles and mask and shrug, “It’s hot and paint is easier to get off of skin than clothes if you moisturize correctly.”
You motion for him to follow you to the bathroom, where you begin to clean your paint sprayer.
“You continually amaze me with how sexy you make construction,” he says in that deep, low rumble that causes you to involuntarily moan a bit in the back of your throat.
“Thanks babe, want to help me wash it off?” you offer, looking over your shoulder coyly and tilting your head to the shower. You know you are a mess, dried paint smudges all over and hair in a bespeckled bun.
“Not yet, I don’t think you are dirty enough yet,” he comes up behind you, looking at you in the mirror and snaking his hands around your ribs and cupping your breasts through the thin fabric. Your nipples start to harden in his palms.
“Oh, well let me finish cleaning this real quick,’” you start rinsing as quickly as you can. “Take your time, I’ll be right here,” his thumbs graze your nipples.
You consider abandoning the sprayer, but you know you have to clean it before it gets clogged.
His hands are roaming all around your body, stoking the fire in your core as you twist off the paint cup and start rinsing. His hands sliding on your ass cheeks and around to the front, over your belly and down. The pads of his long fingers running along the crease between your leg and pussy, teasing.
You are frantically scrubbing out the nozzle with an old toothbrush.
His thumbs hook onto your panties and slide them down and off. Your hands are full of watery paint and there is nothing you can do to stop him, as if you’d want to. He traces a line up your thigh and over your hips. You can feel little callouses from his guitar playing on his left hand. His dexterous fingers gently glide over your now naked labia, pressing them together just a bit at the root.
You moan in the back of your throat. You love the feel of his hands on you, how he knows all your little tantalizing spots. You have stopped trying to clean your damn paint sprayer and rinse the paint off your hands.
He continues up your ribs, catching your tank top and pulling it over your head.
You go to turn around to kiss him. He stops you and places your hands on the counter, staring at your eyes in the mirror.
“You keep those hands right there,” he says in your ear, “don't move them.”
Shivers course down your spine.
You are standing, completely naked, hands on the counter as he reaches around to cup and rub your breasts, pinching your nipples and pushing his fully clothed hips against your back side.
You feel his rigid length through his loose slacks. You start to reach back to rub him.
He grabs your wrists and presses your hands back to the counter.
“Now, now, I told you to keep them there. If you move them again I’ll stop. Understand?” He growls, hot breath on your neck. His eyes are serious, his brows slightly furrowed.
You nod.
“Now be a good dirty girl and spread your legs," oh god his voice is fucking amazing in your ear.
You step to each side and wetness starts to seep between your lower lips.
His right hand traces down your back, over the crack of your ass to those lips. His hands are magic. You can’t help but press your hips back towards him.
“Oh my, so wet. Do you like being all naked and exposed to me?” he dips a gentle finger barely into you and spreads that wetness around.
“Yes, I do,” you say a little breathlessly as he nears your clit.
“Mmmm, I like it too. What to do with such a dirty girl,” he spreads the wetness back toward your asshole. He is watching your reactions reflected back at him.
You stare back at his eyes, lifting an eyebrow. “Anything you want,” you boldly declare licking and biting your bottom lip. You spread your legs a little wider, arching and offering yourself to his whim.
He steps back, you make a little sound of disappointment. He rubs his chin between his forefinger and thumb, pinching his full bottom lip, considering his options. He looks your back side up and down, then at your naked reflection in the mirror, all the while absentmindedly rubbing his cock through his pants with his other hand. Then he sits down between your legs with his back to the cabinet. His face is perfectly positioned at your dripping cunt.
“This is what I want," he says, looking up, capturing you with those stunning eyes of his, “keep your hands there.”
His tongue tastes the slickness between your legs and he emits a low throaty growl of pleasure. His fingers open your folds to reveal your nub. He gently licks around your clit as he slowly slides his long fingers inside of you, curving them just a little.
You moan, eyes closed, head back.
He starts to use a flat tongue to lap and suck your clit as he glides in and out of you slowly. You look down, his eyes are closed. His head is gently moving and rolling as he doles out pleasure with his tongue, receiving as much as he is giving. Just watching him indulge in your snatch, is almost as arousing as what he is doing. Add in the quietly depraved noises he is making, and you are in heaven.
He stops licking, pulls his fingers out and presses the thumb on his other hand into your wet slit. Then slides it back to your asshole and looks up at you inquiringly. He is ever the gentleman.
Your eyes widen with excitement, the only response you can muster is nodding frantically.
Grinning at you, he rubs the pad of this thumb on your asshole. The nerve endings there are bringing new zinging sensations to your pelvic floor. Gently he pushes his wet thumb into you.
Your hips are yearning towards his face, silently begging for his tongue. He complies, face buried in your pussy, extraordinary tongue dancing on your folds and clit. You relax to let his thumb in. His other fingers slide back into your pussy and you feel him get to his first knuckle or so in your ass.
“Oh. My. Gods. That is so fucking good," you say in a desperate whisper as he moves both hands in and out alternatively, slowly at first. You start twitching your hips into his lashing tongue.
“Harder, please harder,” you moan.
“There’s my dirty girl,” he says huskily against your folds.
He captures your swollen clit in his mouth and starts sucking as his fingers pound into you. You feel a tell tale fullness inside you.
Gripping the counter to keep from collapsing, you start to go over the edge. A wail rips through your throat as your juices flood his face and hands, squirting down onto his still clothed body. He slows down his pace, but is lapping the sweet liquid from your lips, making you twitch in aftershocks. He pulls back, his face and shirt so wet.
He stands up in front of you, forcing you to take a step back, hands still on the counter. Turning around, he quickly washes his hands in the paint covered sink, Your forehead pressed against his back, you shake and shiver. Wiping his chin, he steps to the side, breaking your grip on the counter, pulling you directly in front of him.
His wet fingers are unzipping his fly and he takes out his hard-as-rock cock. He has an animalistic look on his face of deep need and desire. He can’t even be bothered to take off the clothes you soaked.
He pushes you back with a growl, kissing you fiercely and picking you up onto the counter between the double vanity sinks. He slides his cock into your pussy and groans. He grips your hips and begins to thrust into you.
You thought you were done, but as he fills you over and over again you feel that exquisite fullness. You reach down and rub your clit side to side.
“Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod” you are whispering. With a high pitched whine you push, he pulls out and your deluge stains the front of his pants dark and wet.
“Don’t stop,” You reach down and slide him into you again, “I need you more.”
“So. fucking. hot.” he says, each word punctuated with a thrust.
His pace quickens, slamming into you over and over.
His eyes close and a deep rough grunting moan escapes him as he plunges into you and shakes. The hands on your hips gripping hard as he cums inside you.
Seeing him come makes you grind your hips up and down on his cock, You have hit insatiable mode. He is shivering as you ride his still hard cock.
“No, no, no,” you beg as he pulls his cock out, your hips are shaking.
One eyebrow goes up and he smiles, panting. He pets your pussy teasingly, “Did you miss me, do you want these in you Kitten?”
Your jaw is tight, nostrils flared, that demon in you is about to eat him alive. You grab his fingers and push them into your pussy, sopping wet with his cum and your squirting.
“Fuck that pussy hard,” you demand, locking eyes with him. He leans over the counter, grabbing you by the back of the neck, his long fingers squeezing the sides. Putting his forehead to yours, he slams his fingers into you.
“Come on, dirty girl. Cum again for me. No, don't close your eyes, look right at me,” his voice is raspy and demanding.
You are rubbing your clit, hard, clenching your pussy onto his fingers. Lying back onto the marble, legs spread wide with the hottest man on the planet begging you to cum and forcing you to stare into his soul.
“Oh, fuck fuck FUUUUUHH”, you scream as you squirt a fountain over his hand, the counter, his stomach, as you come completely undone. Your whole body shivers and shakes and all you can see are his blue ocean eyes.
You aren’t sure where he ends and you begin as he slides his still hard cock into you again. Nirvana, Euphoria.
“God damn Kitten, you got me so fucking hot I can’t stop,” he pummels your drenched pussy. He goes, and goes, and goes almost savagely. Sweat is dripping off his face and onto your belly. You aren’t sure if you ever stopped cumming. All you can do is ride the wave and moan.
He finally pulls out and strokes his cock standing over you, his voice a strangled roar. Your hips are writhing as you rub yourself, you don’t have any more to gush, but the feeling of his cum surging onto your naked lips and belly sends you over a different precipice as you explode into pieces.
Neither of you have any words, heaving, shuddering. He holds you to earth, bent over you with his forehead back on yours. After a minute or two, he pulls you off the counter and to your feet, gathering you in his arms.
As your breathing slows, you notice he is still dressed in sopping clothes.
“Sorry about your clothes, I guess you are just as dirty as I am now,” you lazily giggle.
“Oh no, that was worth it,” he smiles at you, letting his pants drop and stripping his shirt off, “now we can shower.”
#Austin Butler#Austin Butler smut#Austin Butler x reader#Austin Butler fic#Austin butler fanfic#@purejasmine#@slowsweetlove
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Long Story…
Summary: Orophin and Caladwen have a little adventure.
Caladwen leapt from tree branch to tree branch, sharp green eyes fixed on the ellon beneath her who was currently plodding along the muddy path pulling a cart behind him. The chilly air nipped at her fingers and the earth was left dampened by the recent rainfall. The rivers of Lorien were at their most productive, flowing fast and running deep. It had been Orophin’s idea to set off towards the creek bed and try to pan for gold as all the recent activity would have no doubt stirred up the sediment which lay below the water.
“Could use a little help here.” Her brother in law grumbled, the wheels of the cart having gotten caught in the mud for what must have been the fiftieth time that day.
Caladwen grinned, swinging upside down on a Mallorn limb by her ankles. “What’s wrong? The big, strong Marchwarden Orophin having a hard time?”
“I’ll show you a hard time, you elfling!” He smirked, muttering a hushed command to the tree she was hanging from, a vine promptly slithering out to fling her off.
“Oof!” She sat up from the bush she’d landed in, scowling at the smug face staring back at her. “Real mature.”
“You had it coming.” His eyes sparkled with mirth and he extended a hand to help her up. “Alright, let’s get the shovels. Again.”
Caladwen chuckled. “I love how you bought these with the intention of digging up rocks in the creek, but all we’ve done with them so far is excavate our cart from the mud.” She reached out and retrieved the two items in question, both Warden-grade shovels struggling not to bend under the thickness of the mud and already caked in grime.
“I’m just glad Rumil reminded me to grab them when I was headed out the door this morning. Nearly forgot.” Orophin panted, chucking away his third scoop of debris into the tree line.
“Eru forbid ‘tis one of us who should get caught in this stuff. It’s like quicksand.” It was now Caladwen’s turn to take up pulling the cart loaded with mining supplies, the elleth noticing the fatigue in Orophin’s arms.
“If the bounty in that river is half as plentiful as the dwarves say, the mud will be worth it.” Orophin was known to frequent bars run by dwarves, as he claimed they lead to more interesting stories to tell at the end of the night. Though his brothers certainly stopped finding this habit of his amusing after the time Orophin had come scrambling home in the early hours of the morning, hurrying to lock the door and constantly looking over his shoulder. As it turns out, the young fool had been so caught up in his cups that he’d spent all of his gambling money at the bar. And dwarves, especially the very greedy miner Orophin had played cards with that night, do not take kindly to not receiving their winnings. The dwarf spent two hours banging on their Tallen door and shouting curses at the ellon inside about what he was going to do if Orophin didn’t pay up. Haldir ended up having to foot the bill that night, and in turn Orophin earned a very long lecture about responsibility the next day as well as being put on paperwork filing duty for the following week to teach him a lesson.
But did that experience deter the willful ellon from returning to such establishments? Of course not!
“Haldir thinks we’re mad carrying on out here in the cold like this.” Caladwen’s heart clenched, already missing her husband. She thought back to Haldir’s soft blue eyes gazing up at her as he knelt to tie her boots this morning, draping his rainproof cloak over her shoulders as she walked out of the door. Even now she could feel his warm breath ghosting over her pointed ear, and hear his voice making her promise to stay safe in its usual gruffness. It made her long to be in his embrace once more, Caladwen focusing her attention on her fea to connect with the ever present reassurance of their soul bond. It was like having her skin kissed by the thin reys of the sun on a warm summer day; not overpowering, but just enough to feel its comforting presence.
“I’m sure he’ll warm up to the idea when we bring home the gold!” Orophin puffed his chest out confidently, and Caladwen could see that he had no intention of leaving the creek without his treasure.
Both elves stopped and turned to each other when they saw the steep slope that lay before them, terrain dotted with boulders and trees. It was the only way to get down to the water they realized with a shared sigh. Now, had it only been the two of them, this hike would have been no trouble. But unfortunately, there was no way they could make it down while pulling the cart.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Orophin gave her a sly wink.
“No. Come on. No! Orophin!” Caladwen was now seated in the cart, Orophin standing behind it with his feet ready to give him a running start.
“It’ll be fine.” He assured her.
“Famous last words!” The elleth protested. “How are we even going to get it back up here when we’re done?”
“Meh, that’s our future selves’ problem.” Was the last phrase Caladwen heard before her world became a blur of colors zipping by as they rolled down the cliff, Orophin having pushed off and now sitting behind her. “Lean left!” He commanded between gritted teeth, struggling to throw his weight around enough to guide the direction of the cart.
“Look out!” Caladwen’s eyes went wide, seeing a huge tree only a few feet in front of them. “Need a plan here pilot!” Her voice was panicked, but also agitated by his lack of response.
They held their breaths and leaned in the opposite direction, just barely grazing the tree. Orophin was the first to burst out laughing when the shock wore off, Caladwen joining in with shaken hands.
“Woooo! Take that! We rule this mountain!” Orophin threw his head back, howling their victory.
“Uh… Orophin?” Caladwen’s shaking again.
“Oh no…” His eyes fall on the ledge in their path, approaching too fast to react. “Brace for impact!”
Instinctively, Orophin moved to cover Caladwen’s body with his own, wrapping around her to break her fall as the two were ejected from the cart. The wood splintered as it hit the ground below.
Orophin landed on his feet, carefully lowering her to the soil. “You okay Cali?”
“Yeah, I think so…” She panted.
“Haha! See? Told you we’d make it.” He patted her shoulder as he walked off to scavenge for their mining supplies which were now strewn about all over the bank. Eventually, everything was retrieved, and the wide array of tools Orophin managed to procure for their trip was truly impressive; old kitchen pans with holes poked into the bottom of them to act as sifters, a pick to scrape mud and moss off of potentially valuable rocks, and the aforementioned shovels. Lastly, each elf brought a pack filled with food, fresh water, and plenty of space to take home any treasures they might find. They eagerly leapt into the cold water, standing about waist deep as they began digging for handfuls of rock to sift through.
Caladwen stifled her laughter as Orophin nearly face planted trying to walk in the stream, his boots so close to getting sucked off of his feet by the mud. “You good?”
He immediately picked up on the sarcasm in her tone, gathering a clump of slimy moss from the end of his shovel and holding it in front of his face with a wrinkled nose. “Ewww… think fast!”
The elleth yelped as it landed in her already messed hair, overbalancing and landing in the stream. Sputtering, she scrambled to her feet.
“You look like the creature from the Black Lagoon.” Orophin chuckled.
“Who eats troublesome lads like you!” She couldn’t help but splash him to even the score.
Not having any luck in their current position, Caladwen decided to branch off and sift in a shallower section of the creak by the bank, perching atop a rock outcropping. Her eyes lit up when they caught sight of something interesting in the bottom of her pan.
“What is it?” Orophin’s ears pirked up.
“Not gold, but look at this beautiful wild clay!” She exclaimed, holding the chunk of clay, a marbled combination of orange and purple, up to him. “This would be perfect for making jewelry beads!” She set about collecting as much as she could, even happening upon a few patches of yellow clay, and wrapping the material in damp cloth before placing it in her bag. Orophin, for his part, was not able to locate any gold but collected a few unique small fossils embedded in rocks.
He was the first to notice the darkening skies, having learned through all his years as a warden that it would be unwise to travel given how intense the rainstorms have been in case of mudslides. “Let’s tuck in for the evening. I saw a cave about half a mile upstream.”
XXX
Caladwen and Orophin were eager to put their supplies down once they reached the mouth of the cave. The cart had been broken in the crash, leaving them to carry their tools along with the heavy packs. Caladwen built a fire and they left their cloaks and boots to dry by it, nibbling on lembas and relaxing in a soft patch of moss by the warmth.
“I’m bored.” Orophin groaned, apparently unable to withstand the lack of activity in the last five minutes.
“Hmm…” Caladwen tapped her chin thoughtfully, eyes wandering over the stalactites on the roof of the cave. “Want to play a game?”
“I’m listening.” He rolled over to face her.
She picked up two sticks from the surrounding area, dipping them into the charcoal and water mixture that had collected in puddles in the darker regions of the cave, creating a quill of sorts. “It’s called three line. You draw three arbitrary lines and the other person has to create a picture out of them.” She demonstrated by scribbling three lines on the cave wall, Orophin quick to follow. They switched places and proceeded to begin to craft an image using the abstract lines they were given.
“There. A masterpiece!” Orophin said ostentatiously as he unveiled his work.
Caladwen squinted. “What is it?”
He swats her playfully, his face a mask of mock offense. “A slice of cake!” As if it was obvious.
“Did it get run over by a horse?” She quipped.
He laughed. “Don’t blame me, they were your lines.” He leans over, looking at her drawing. “A sun?”
“You got it!”
Their night was filled with laughter, paining the walls with round after round of three line until they drifted off to sleep.
XXX
They must have been quite the sight, coming over the hill caked in mud and carrying supplies that were even dirtier.
“What… happened to you two?” Was all Haldir could muster as he leapt down from his watch tower to meet them.
“Long story…”
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Black and Gold Han Ye (Handcrafted)
To celebrate the start of airing for Gong Jun's new Rising with the Wind series, I've decided to kick of a week of figs from his last show - The Legend of Anle. That's right, we have a whole week of Han Ye figs ahead of us, so buckle in and get ready to admire our noble prince!
First up is this beauty of a fig, from my favorite light clay artist. She made two Han Ye figs in this medium size that she put up for sale - a black gold one and a white gold one. They're both wonderful - you'll see the white gold one next.
The inspiration for this costume is one of Han Ye's many gorgeous outfits:
I really love the long train on this one.
A better view of it! We rarely see Han Ye in dark colors like this, so it's very distinctive. I love the smile we can barely see here too.
He arrived in a plastic box, stuffed full of my old nemesis, pearl cotton.
Pearl cotton is great, don't get me wrong. I appreciate how well it cushions all the figs that travel a very long and very bumpy way to get to me. I just wish the teeny tiny threads didn't get everywhere.
As you can see. Although I have to say, he looks immensely regal here, the pearl cotton almost looks like a fur stole! I just end up doing a lot of dusting to get it all off (and I still miss some).
But just look at him. Gorgeous! I love everything about this fig.
He looks calm and serious here - clearly thinking a LOT of thoughts about how to execute his plans to perfection.
The details on his robe here is just amazing - all the little tiny gold details. This artist must have the steadiest of hands!
I really like how she stamped the print on - it really carries across the look of the brocade robes.
A nice view of the train and his beautiful long hair. She always does such a nice job on her fig's hair - they have such great movement and style.
The entire figure is 11 cm tall, with 1.5cm of that being the base. For us Americans, that's 4.3 inches, with a little over half an inch for the base. Most of my figs are around 8cm, so this is larger but not too large, if that makes sense. The larger size is nice because there's more real estate for detail like this.
I really love that he's holding a fan here - I was so pleased when Han Ye had fan(s) in the show. Gong Jun should always have fans!
Here we have his beautiful waist ornament, and more detail on his fan. Can I just say how cute his little hand is? Adorable.
I love his face and his pose here. Such a great expression.
This figure is so beautiful I need to get some closeups for you to see! Please note that his gold details on his robe sparkle. That's right! I didn't know they made sparkly ultra-light clay but I LOVE it. My inner 8-year old was in complete delight over this!
A close up of his perfect face.
A close up of his golden guan too.
Alright, back to our regularly-scheduled bottoms-up picture...
..and top down.
Just beautiful! The white and gold figure is just as gorgeous - you'll appreciate seeing him next. I'll also include a pic of both of them together too.
Material: Ultra-light clay
Fig Count: 471
Scene Count: 31
Rating: Prince of our hearts!
[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]
#gong jun#prince han ye#jzeu#word of honor cast#shl cast#figthusiast#anlezhuan#legend of anle#legend of anle merch
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✊ from Hal
SEND ✊ for your muse to punch out someone that was harassing my muse
"Come on! Give me a chance, lady!"
"For the last time! I said no!" Harmony answers coldly. Dark brows arch closer together as she glares at the man who followed her down the sidewalk. He hasn't left her alone since he first saw her working at the clinic. She was polite with him at first. She was soft spoken and kind the first few days, but with his persistence and even demands for a date, her patient wore thin.
"I also told you that I'm married! Happily married! You see this?!"
The ruby embraced by two black diamonds on a white gold band sparkle in the sunlight when she holds her hand out. "I didn't think it could get more obvious than that."
"Pfft, really?" The man asks and he shakes his head. "You're sure you weren't made to do that? You work in the clinic with your hubby. I saw him many times and he's freaky as fuck!" He tilts his head back and his hand brushes the raven locks from his face as he continues to speak. "He looks like he's straight from a slasher flick. He's a real monster! Don't know how the hell he got someone like you unless he threatened you."
"Why, you little-" Harmony lunges at the one who is trying (and failing) to woo her. "My husband is not a monster! He's a human being, a doctor, a wonderful father, and an all-star life partner! He's a far better man than a cocky, entitled prick like you! You have a lot of nerve saying that to my face!"
"Heh! Chill out, girly! I'm just speaking the truth. I had my eye on you for some time and I think I'm the charming prince that you are waiting for! I can whisk you away from the beast and make you have the time of your life. Just give me a chance!" Lips curve into a smile and while it is attractive to others, it just made Harmony want to punch him.
However, that is not necessary.
Her one true love has seen it all and he is not happy. No, he is not happy at all!
That becomes apparent when Halsten looms over the egotistical bachelor. Harmony sighs in relief and smiles. "Hello, my dear. I was just waiting for you. This...erm, gentleman doesn't take no for an answer." Normally, Harmony is against violence but in this case, she is not going to stop Halsten from teaching the other male a lesson.
With that, the unfortunate soul was greeted with a punch in the face. His features marred by the syringes revealed from Halsten's prosthetic hand. "Aah! The fuck?! You fucked up my face! MY FACE! My FAAACE!" He shrieks in pure horror with tears streaming down his face.
But he will quickly find that punch will be the very least of worries. Halsten is far from finished in showing that Harmony is not only uninterested, but she is with him alone.
And his wife is not going to stop him this time.
@skullboysfinale
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