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viennacherries · 2 months

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Prompt suggestion <3 Rolan/Tav NSFW. Tav really likes it when Rolan speaks to her in infernal. She doesn’t understand it, but it doesn’t change the fact that it turns her on. He starts to notice her subtle reactions to when he curses or something in infernal. Which leads to bedroom shenanigans lol. My username is the same on A03 ^^

this has taken me a minute, mostly because i had to spend some time literally making up the infernal language for the purpose of this fic LMAO. if you're interested in my process it's in the end notes on ao3.

i changed the prompt a little though; rolan doesnt notice because he's very silly and keeps failing the perception check. lia notices immediently.

NSFW read on ao3 here

~~~

The first time Tav hears Rolan speak infernal, she doesn't even register it as a word. It slips past his tongue and it's all consonants and noises that she's not sure she could emulate properly with her non-tiefling tongue.

"Zurgan." He mutters it under his breath as he drops a pile of books.

Her quill stops midair where she's busy writing up an inventory of magical items they've found. With everyone else busy or gone from the city, she offered to help Rolan with organising the tower. It's been a nightmare, frankly. The previous tower master (she wont do him the privilege of speaking his name, the bastard) had apparently spent the last who-knows-how-many years stuffing things into random shelves and boxes.

She frowns as she tries to repeat the word, "Zu- Zurgan? What's that mean?"

Rolan jumps, clearly having forgotten she's in the room, "not zurgan, zurgan. It means- well, I don't know if it translates literally to common. It's... an expletive, I suppose ."

She laughs, "so it means 'fuck'?"

He huffs, and rolls his eyes, "I suppose that's a close enough approximation, yes."

"I don't think I've ever heard you swear before."

"Well," his brow is furrowed as he thinks, "I suppose I try not to, really. It's not becoming."

Tav snorts at that, "Gods, how old are you, 150? Besides, how is swearing in tiefling any different?"

"The language is called infernal, you uncultured swine. I'm a tiefling, I speak infernal."

"You speak something alright. Usually a crock of shi-"

"What did I say about it not being becoming, hm?"

She rolls her eyes at him, "so sorry, Master Rolan, please accept my humblest of apologies for disgracing your presence in such a regard."

He rolls his eyes at her, but she hears him snort and sees the quirk of his lip. "I suppose as far as apologies go, that one will suffice."

~~~

Several weeks later, Cal shouts through the door to the study where they're cataloguing evocation books, "Rolan! Lia and I are heading to the market, do you want us to pick up more of the wine you like?"

He laughs, which is rare enough in itself, and leans out the door to reply.

"Fazit drakon'ziz orum?!"

She hears Cal's responding cackle from down the hallway. "alright, alright, little drakon'ziz. I'll get 2 bottles, 'cos I love you."

When Rolan comes back in, chuckling to himself, Tav doesn't say anything. She wants to ask what it means, but she's... distracted.

Something about the way the words sound when he says them is... enticing. She's not sure if she could repeat them without butchering them, but even if she could she's sure they wouldn't sound as delicious as when they come from him. It's something about the rich tone to his voice, which she's always liked, coupled with the harsher edge it takes on when he speaks the foreign language.

Gods, she's been spending far too much time with him,

She clears her throat, "drakon'ziz?"

Rolan turns to her, still smiling, " drakon'ziz , but close. It means dragon."

His lopsided smile, aimed at her, coupled with the gruffness of the unknown word, is a little bit intoxicating.

"What about the rest of what you said? Fa- Fazit something?"

"'Fazit drakon'ziz orum?' It means 'does a dragon want gold?' It's a tiefling saying, basically means 'yes, obviously.' It just sounds better in infernal."

Tav agrees. It sounds rather lovely in infernal, in fact.

When Tav doesn't reply, he raises an eyebrow, "I could try and teach you some? Infernal, that is. If you'd be interested. Tell me something you want to be able to say, I'll try and teach you how to say it."

She thinks for a moment.

"What if I want to call someone a shit-head?"

He barks out a laugh as he rolls his eyes, "of course you'd just want to know how to insult people. I think the closest translation would be uzterku'zereb. That means 'shit-for-brains'."

Despite the small jolt her stomach gives as he utters the phrase, she starts cackling. "That's even better!"

~~~

It's been about a month and a half since they started cataloguing everything in the tower, and it's basically become a nightly occurrence that Tav stays for dinner with them. Rolan has finally sat down at the dining table, after bringing all the dishes and cutlery through, and right as he hits the chair there's a sheepish voice from beside him.

"... Rolan~" It's Lia, in a singsong voice, and he huffs.

"What do you want?" It's a question, but it sounds more like an admonishment.

"How could you?! Assuming I want something from you. My beloved big brother. I look up to you so much. Also I left my drink in the sitting room."

You and Callum both laugh, and he makes a very dramatic show of pushing his chair back out with a huge sigh.

"You're such a..." He flails for a moment, as if the word in common has escaped him, "an uztanatez. Next time, you're getting it yourself."

She laughs, "My dear brother, I would fall on my sword for you."

"Mhm." He grumbles, " gladiz zurzum kuluz ..."

Cal nearly falls out of his chair laughing as Rolan trudges from the room, and Lia has a grin on her face from successfully riling him up and getting what she wanted.

Tav is blushing.

"What did he say?" She feels hesitant to bring attention to herself when she knows she's bright red, but she's also too nosy for her own good.

Lia looks at her and opens her mouth to answer, but pauses as she takes in Tav's face. Cal, blissfully, doesn't notice.

"Well the first bit was him calling her a suck up," he laughs through his explanation, "and the second bit was him telling her exactly where she could shove her sword."

She laughs, and thanks him for telling her. Lia is still looking at her. Her face warms more.

"What?"

"Hm." Lia smiles in a way that looks slightly threatening; the way Tav imagines a shark would smile at a seal before taking a huge chunk out of it. "Nothing, really. Only, you weren't that flushed before Rolan spoke in infernal. Got a thing for the devil's tongue, have you Tav?"

Cal furrows his eyebrows in confusion, before his eyes widen and his mouth drops in an 'o' of understanding.

She's about to deny it but she can feel that she's even redder now, so instead she buries her face in her hands. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare say anything!"

"Say anything about what?" Of course Rolan would walk back in now. He places Lia's cup in front of her and turns to Tav expectantly, but Lia speaks before she can.

"Tav is just embarrassed because she didn't understand what you said, she felt left out."

His face breaks into a look of confusion, "You shouldn't be embarrassed by that, Tav, you don't speak the language. Uztanatez-" Tav sucks in a breath, and Lia snorts, "means 'bootlicker'. Gladiz zurzum kuluz means... well... 'shove your sword up your rear'."

Cal and Lia are both sporting shit eating grins. Tav thinks now is a good time to pick a God and pray.

~~~

" Pulch'zer."

He says it as she walks through the door to the study one morning.

"Sorry, repeat that?"

His eyes widen, and his face flushes a deep crimson colour. She's never seen him blush before, or at least she's never noticed because of his skin's natural shade.

"Sorry I was just..." He averts his gaze, looking back at the paperwork he's working on, "I was just thinking out loud..."

She chuckles lightly. "Ah, that text will be kicking your ass then. Pulch'zer. What does it mean?"

He looks up at her again. His eyes lock with hers.

"You're close, it's not pulch'zer, it's pulch'zer . You have to put more emphasis on the 'Z' sound."

Gods, she needs to stop asking. He always ends up correcting her, and she always ends up going bright pink. He pronounces the words more precisely when he's teaching her how to say them, it drives her insane.

"Pulch- Pulch? Pulch'zer."

He chuckles, stands and walks over to her. "You're close, but now you're putting too much emphasis on it." He's only an arms length away from her now. " Pulch'zer ."

She gulps. He needs to stop repeating it.

"P- Pulch'zer." She can't tear her eyes away from him, she stares right into his gaze as she repeats it. He sucks a small breath in, so small it's barely noticeable.

"Yes. Very good."

There's a pause.

"So. What does it mean?"

He's flushing again. "It... Well. It..."

She raises an eyebrow, "that bad huh?"

"... it means 'beautiful'."

Tav's face twists in confusion. "What about your book is beaut-"

Rolan surges forward and plants his lips on hers. She gasps into it, the rest of her words swallowed by her inhale and his tongue. She sinks into it. His hands fall onto her waist, and he uses them to drag her closer, pulling the whole length of his body against hers. When he pulls away it feels far too soon, but in his defence he's breathless. He only leans his chest away, his hips still against hers.

"I wasn't talking about the book."

The look in his eyes is vulnerable in a way she's never seen him before. As though he desperately wants her to understand, and yet is terrified that she will. Like he's scared to fracture whatever comfortable thing they've fallen into together.

"Well..." She takes a deep breath, rests a hand on his chest. "Then I'd like you to know that I think you're very pulch'zer."

He sucks in through his teeth and lets out a single disbelieving laugh. "That sounds ridiculously good when you say it, you know."

She snorts, dismissive, "please, it's far better when you say it. I love when you speak infernal."

He stares at her.

She feels her eyes bug out of her head as what she said hits her. "I mean! Not that- I don't mean that like-"

"You love it? What does that mean?"

She can feel the heat in her face. Suddenly everywhere he's touching her is too much, she needs to fall through the floor to a new realm and start her life over with a fake name.

"I don't- I didn't mean-"

As she fumbles over her words, Rolan's face starts to lift into an understanding smirk. "Oh. I see. You love it."

He leans forward towards her, and his lips brush her ear.

"Tibiz plazet link'zon mezoq ?"

She shudders, "Rolan, I have no idea what you're saying."

He chuckles lowly against the shell of her ear. " Zedzit'n, nul'umne? Zede illizquit diko ."

Gods, it's torturous. He's dropped his voice an octave, giving the already heavy words an even more gravelled tone. Her breath is coming out in pants and she whines. The way it's affecting her is ridiculous.

He doesn't stop, " morentez me'zam? Notzo'illi ."

"Rolan, please."

He grins against her, and she feels his length pressing against her body through his robes. " Quid plaket, dilekt'miz ?"

" Rolan , common tongue, please . I want to know what you're saying."

"I said 'please what?'"

Tav huffs in irritation, "I don't know."

He brings his lips up to brush hers, smiling against her as she tries to pull him closer.

"Do you want me to kiss you again?"

She swallows hard around the lump in her throat and nods.

"Mhm. Ask me nicely."

The noise she lets out is embarrassing, a high pitched whine that she couldn't stop if she tried, but she feels his breath against her lips as he exhales in excitement.

"Kiss me, Rolan. Please."

His smile is wide against her, "as you wish, pulch'zer."

When he kisses her, his lips are gentle against hers. Soft and pliant, eager but restrained. When he parts them slowly, she responds in kind and finds his tongue with hers, and he rewards her with a deep, sensual moan from low in his throat. His lips are warm and soft, his mouth tastes of spearmint, his breath flows through her. She feels her small-clothes growing damp.

As he deepens the kiss his movements grow more insistent, more intense, and he squeezes her hips as he grinds her into him. She moans in response and the noise flips a switch in him. All of a sudden his lips are frantic, the kiss turning messy and needy, and his hands are running up and down her body as thought they don't know where to settle.

He pulls back enough to speak, his breath dancing along her lips, his voice barely above a whisper. " Nezkiz quid'mih fakiaz. Volui'illi tamd'umne ."

Tav moans, long and slow as the words rush over her skin, "Gods, Rolan. I wish I knew what you were saying. Fuck ."

He chuckles quietly, "perhaps I'll teach you Comprehend Languages. Then again... Forzit adv'illi."

She groans. "Rolan, please ."

He grins, grinding his length against her, "please, what?"

The huff she lets out is impatient, "you know what."

His mouth traces the shell of her ear again and she shivers. "Perhaps. But tell me anyway."

She groans, "please fuck me, Rolan."

He needs no further invitation. Rolan undresses them both rapidly, swift and efficient just as he treats his work, and they're both bare before each-other in a few moments.

When he looks over her, sweeping his eyes across her form, he lets out a low noise of appreciation. "Hells, Tav, you're beautiful."

She feels nervous, all of a sudden, bare before him, but she smiles despite it. "So are you."

He's back on her, trailing his lips along her throat and collarbone, leaving teasing bites and grazes with his canines. She's a whimpering, writhing mess beneath him but she doesn't care. She can feel his length pressed against her stomach, can feel the grooves of the door on her back, and she's absolutely aching with need.

"Is this okay? Are you comfortable?" His questions make her chest ache with a different kind of need to the one pulsing through her core.

"Yes, Rolan. Please, for the love of- fuck me against this door."

His moan in response to her words is loud and wanton. " Hells , Tav. Lift your leg for me."

She does, and he grabs under her knee, lifting it up so it wraps around his hip, the heel of her foot against the base of his tail while her other foot stays planted against the floor. His other hand comes between them, grips the base of his cock and rubs it against her folds. She throws her head back as she keens, and at the same time he lets out a groan closer to a growl.

"Fuck, you're so wet. Is- This is still okay? You want this?" His voice wavers with lust.

Hearing him curse is almost as incredible as hearing him speak infernal. "Yes , Gods if you don't-"

He's sliding himself into her before she can finish her threat, and the rest of her words fizzle out into a high pitched moan as she throws her head back. His length is ridged and she can feel every notch as it slides into her. He works his way into her slowly, thrusting only an inch at a time until his pelvis comes to rest against hers, and he folds over to rest his forehead against her shoulder.

His first half of his sentence is muttered, the second half directed at her, "Tam strikta , fuck. Ita infek'tum strikta. Tell me when you're ready, dilekt'miz."

"I'm ready, please, fuck me."

He silences his own moan by clamping his mouth over the meat between her neck and shoulder, and begins thrusting shallowly. The slide of him inside her, the ridges on his shaft dragging against her walls, has her tightening her leg around his waist and dragging him closer. He grunts through his mouthful of her skin and starts to pick up his pace, until he's thrusting hard and fast into her.

She's a mess, and she knows it, but it doesn't matter. She's digging her heel into his ass and arching her hips away from the door to get closer to him, head thrown back and eyes wrenched shut. It's too much, but it's not enough. She grabs his hand that isn't holding her knee up and places it round the back of her other thigh. He's a quick study as always, taking a firm hold on the back of her leg and hoisting her other leg up around him, so she's held up against the door by just his weight against her and his bruising grip. It changes the angle, he drives deeper into her, and they both moan in tandem.

He's speaking again, infernal dialect spilling from him freely into her skin, " Nezkiz. Nezkiz quam di'tez vellem. Quamdiu korpuz tuum'kontraz petivi. Vid'tez habzeq. Miz'tib animez'umne ." He speaks the words with a reverence that that has her keening, clenching around him.

"Rolan, I'm so close, fuck don't stop."

He shakes his head, thrusts into her harder, "Hells, I won't, Tav. I won't, I won't, adv'illi, adv'illi -"

The utterance of more quiet infernal words against her tips her over the edge, and she finds her release around him. His movements become stuttered, desperate, " Tez amorez. Tez amorez taz'multo. Perfik'miz. Amaz, amaz, num'quam latuz dezeraz. Morent'illi anim defendam."

He follows her over the precipice and empties himself inside her. She tightens her hold on him with her legs and kisses his neck as his hips twitch through his release, and as he stills they both try to find breath against each-other's skin.

"Gods, Tav." His voice is hoarse, "you- that was- I-"

She chuckles, which makes her walls clench and his hips stutter as he gasps at the feeling. "That was amazing, Rolan. What... Um. What were you saying?"

She pulls away to look at him, and his face is incredibly red. His freckles are barely visible through the violent blush. "Oh, um. Nothing- Nothing, really. Nothing important. Just... babbling. You know."

She laughs, slowly lowering her legs to the ground, both shuddering as he pulls himself from her. He mutters a quick incantation and they're both clean.

"You're going to have to teach me Comprehend Languages, now. I'm far too nosy to leave it at that."

"Hm. We'll see."

~~~

Translations:

"Tibiz plazet link'zon mezoq?" ("You like when I speak to you in my native tongue?")

"Zedzit'n, nul'umne? Zede illizquit diko." ("But you don't care, do you? It's not about what I say.")

"Morentez me'zam? Notzo'illi." ("Moaning for me already? Aren't I lucky.")

Quid plaket, dilekt'miz?" ("Please what, my beloved?")(he lies and tells her it means "please what?")

"Nezkiz quid'mih fakiaz. Volui'illi tamd'umne." ("You have no idea what you do to me. I have wanted you for so long.")

"Then again... Forzit adv'illi." ("Then again... Perhaps I won't.")

"Tam strikta, fuck. Ita infek'tum strikta. Tell me when you're ready, dilekt'miz." ("So wet, fuck. So tight and wet. Tell me when you're ready, my beloved.")

"Nezkiz. Nezkiz quam di'tez vellem. Quamdiu korpuz tuum'kontraz petivi. Vid'tez habzeq. Miz'tib animez'umne." ("You have no idea. You have no idea how long I've wanted you. How long I've craved your body against mine. I have dreamt of having you like this. My soul burns for you.")

"adv'illi" ("I won't.")

"Tez amorez. Tez amorez taz'multo. Perfik'miz. Amaz, amaz, num'quam latuz dezeraz. Morent'illi anim defendam." ("I love you. I love you so much. You complete me. Please, please never leave my side. I would protect you to my dying breath.")

#bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 requests #bg3 tav #rolan x tav #rolan bg3 #bg3 rolan #rolan #holy rolan empire #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate iii

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vivwritesfics · 6 months

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Keep on Rolling - MV1

Chapter Five

Summary: Lando's best friend having feelings for anyone on the grid? Impossible, right? She worked with them, sharing her friendship with the grid with the world via the FormulaY/N youtube channel.

After film a video including... spicy water (alcohol), everything changes between her and a certain world champion. Good thing she hasn't had a crush on him since his F1 debut, right?

Right?

1.3K words

Promised QandA in next part

Series Masterlist

"Hey man," Lando said to Max one evening at dinner. It was drivers only, simply because Y/N was too busy working. Everybody wanted her there, but she couldn't spare the time.

Max looked at Lando with a polite smile, too busy eating to say anything.

"You let Y/N interview you?"

He nodded his head, still eating.

"Oh. Well, the rest of us ran away. We didn't trust it not to be a prank," Lando continued. "Why didn't you?"

Max stopped eating to look at him. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"What? No. I just want to know what you're doing with my best friend," answered Lando. This was starting to piss him off. "I don't care what you do, as long as you don't do anything to hurt her."

Max simply scoffed. He didn't have any intentions with Y/N. Whatever happened, happened. If that took them down the romantic route, so be it.

"Don't worry," he said, returning his attention to his food. "I don't plan on hurting her." He ate ignoring Lando and every other driver sat around the table. There was a good few minutes where Lando stared at him, something like disgust written on his face. He didn't mean to be pulling such a face, but he couldn't help it when it came to Y/N

***

Y/N's eyes hurt as she stared at the emails on her screen. "What the fuck," she whispered, pinching the bridge of her nose. It was seeming more and more impossible to find a moment of peace for her.

You need to look at this and give a statement, ASAP, the email said. This is the second time this has happened in the space of a month. How does this keep happening? You need to watch yourself to make sure it doesn't happen again

She read the email a couple of times over before clicking the link.

It was an Instagram post that had gone viral within the F1 community. Pictures of her with the drivers, hidden away in hotel rooms. Moments that nobody but Y/N and the drivers involved should have pictures of.

Her having dinner in Lando's apartment, Y/N and Charles walking through the hallway of a hotel together. There was one occasion where she, Lando and Carlos had snuck up to the roof of the hotel. Somehow that picture was in the post.

The worst one, though? There was a picture of Y/N and Max laying together. It must have been after the drunken quiz video, after they had fallen asleep against each other. It was such an intimate moment, a moment meant for the two of them and nobody else.

They were pictures nobody should have had. Who had taken them? Where had they come from? How did this account have them?

But then Y/N scrolled down to the comments

Username: omg she's such a whore

Username: You'd think this years championship would be interesting since she's sleeping with the whole grid

Username: I've never liked her

Username: She ruined Lando

Username: yeah I liked Carlando better before it involved her

They just went on and on like that. Thousands of them. For every supportive comment, there seemed to be two negative ones. It was horrible. How was she supposed to put out a statement about it.

So, she pulled out her phone and did the only thing she knew to do.

Ten minute later, there was a knock at her door. Y/N wiped her tears and ran to pull it open. "Oh thank god," she said through a sob and wrapped her arms around him.

Lando walked her further into the room and pushed the door shut behind him. “Tell me what happened,” he said and sat her down on her bed. He sat beside her and Y/N instantly placed her head on his shoulder.

"People are horrible," she sniffed as she pulled up the Instagram account.

Taking her phone from her hand, Lando scrolled through the pictures before getting to the comments. As he read them, his grip on Y/N was tight, growing tighter with every horrible comment.

"I've never seen these before," said Lando as he scrolled back up to the pictures. From the way they were taken, they couldn't have been fan pictures - they must have come from someone right there with them.

Lando pressed his finger against the power button and dropped Y/N's phone into his lap. He pulled her close, running his fingers through her hair. "Don't worry, we'll get to the bottom of this."

There was nothing they could do that night. So Y/N locked the door, double checked the lock and then pushed her bedside table up against it.

Y/N and Lando fell asleep together, spread out across the bed. They'd fallen asleep together several times before. They'd been doing it since they were kids, sharing a bed on sleepovers. It was a habit that hadn't died and had only taken breaks when either of them were dating.

"Promise everything is going to be okay?" Y/N muttered in her sleep as she rolled towards the door.

Lando's answer was a snore.

***

Max was used to his phone blowing up over night. He was a world famous Formula One driver, it was bound to happen. But, when he scrolled through his notifications this time, everything was different.

Pictures, none of which he had seen before. He was in some, but the one thing every picture had in common was Y/N. Max ignored all the pictures that didn't have him in the, all the pictures but the last one. The one of him in bed with her/

Nobody had been in the room with them, Max had made sure of it.

His phone vibrated in his hand. But it wasn't who Max hoped it would be. It wasn't the girl he had been pictured with. It was his father. Jos Verstappen. Just the man Max didn't want to be speaking to.

He swiped his finger across the screen and pressed his phone to his ear.

Have you ever been berated by an angry Dutchman almost to the point of tears. Max had. He'd been berated by his father so many times before. Even now, as a twenty five year old, it still stung just as much as it had when he was a child.

Jos ran through the list of all of the news article headlines he had read that morning. All of them about his son and the youtuber that had been following the grid around like a lost dog.

As much as Max wanted to defend her, Jos didn't give him the chance. He sat there in silence as his dad shouted at him down the phone. When Jos finally hung up, Max let out a sigh.

Suddenly there was a knock at his hotel room door. Now in a foul mood, Max stood and opened up the door.

"Hey," he said, letting his visitor in.

The visitor said nothing and walked into his room. "You need to stay away from Y/N."

Max stared at Lando. He said nothing, just stared, so Lando continued. "Stay away from her. Stop falling asleep with her, stop going near her. She doesn't need you to fuck up her life."

Max sat himself back on his bed and patted his thighs in a repetitive pattern. He'd just gotten enough of this from his father, he didn't need this from Lando, too. "What gives you the right?" he asked. "Why can't she make her own decisions?"

"She doesn't know what she wants," Lando spat.

Max shook his head. "I think you're wrong," he said. "I think she knows what she wants and you're unwilling to listen to her."

Suddenly Lando was very close to him, getting in his face. "Stay the fuck away from her," he growled and marched out of the room.

Taglist (Open): @sticksdoesart @eviethetheatrefreak @eugene-emt-roe @glai1023-blog @mqcherie @itsjustkhaos @chonkybonky @arian-directioner @lazybot @lpab @princessria127 @fangirl125reader @honethatty12 @larastark3107 @urfavouritef1girly @cassiopeiia24 @callsign-scully @lexiecamposv @dl-yum @savagecelery @laneyspaulding19 @formulas-bitch @teenwolf01

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 2 months

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the baftas: my eyes need bleach after the livestream chat.

I SAID I WOULD COME TO TUMBLR AND SLUT-SHAME ALL OF YOU, AND YOU BET YOUR GODDAMN BILDADDY I'M HERE TO DO IT. First, a huge thank you to @good-usernames-were-taken, Valerie, for enabling this entire chaos and streaming it. And of course to Disappointment the Main Maggot.

Second, as per requests from you maggots, I have to give an honourary mention to the tragic lack of an emotional support gaseous orange, the late half-eaten packet of Lays on my desk, and my nearly empty can of Monster energy. Idk either, you asked for the mentions you got them.

Without further ado, presenting the BAFTA Awards 2024:

I am busy drawing out the neckline stitches of Crowley's wedding dress, when I am reminded of the stream and I crash into it midway. Little do I know what I am getting into.

Everyone is here for David Tennant. No one is here for the actual awards. This is made very clear very quickly.

KNEES. JUST KNEES. ALL EVERYONE TALKS ABOUT, THROUGHOUT THE STREAM, IS DAVID TENNANT'S KNEES. ARE YOU ALL OKAY WHAT THE FRESH HELL.

For context, David is in a kilt for the first half. I finally see why my relatives disapprove of skirts above knee-length. I never knew humanity's unholy worship of knees till I came here.

SOMEONE ASKS IF DAVID HAS TANNED HIS KNEES. MAGGOTS. PLEASE.

We interrupt our regular scheduled program of David knees to have an intense discussion about British versus French humour, and the misgendering of croissants.

RDJ wins an award and calls his wife his Alpha and Omega.

We're back to the knees. I can't handle how slutty David's knees are, says a worthy maggot.

This goes into a discussion about tickets for David's Macbeth, because, you guessed it, the kilt and the knees.

A lot of gorgeous and talented women in the BAFTAs tonight. I am floored.

I am not allowed to dwell in my awe because the chat is not a place of the lord. Curtain calls of Macbeth are discussed with unnecessary lasciviousness.

Thankfully, in the midst of this, I get a great Zodiac pattern reference for Crowley's wedding dress cummerbund. I was going to have to research the night sky for star charts but this is better.

People show their beautiful brainrot-induced Doc Marten purchases.

The knee thirst has moved into X-rated territory. I am terrified.

A song is sung in memory of film industry people who passed away this year, and people are sad about Dumbledore but at the same time are imagining Aziraphale and Crowley dancing to the song. The brainrot is real.

I accidentally spoil Saltburn's freakshow for someone. When I ask how I can make up for it, they say something about GOAD. I'm alarmed. Is that an OnlyFans, I ask. It's Good Omens After Dark, the chat answers. Is THAT an OnlyFans, I ask. Close enough, the chat says.

David has now changed outfits to a suit, which finally makes people pay attention to the BAFTAs, if only to alternatively thirst over the suit and bemoan the loss of knees.

Things, uh, happen, which I will have to include as quotes in another post. Cheers, @thearoacemess and @vitrilol.

Barty Crouch Jr is debated about as the Wolfstar child. Bratty Crouch Jr is said to be Crowley.

I obtain a banana, which I associate with blowjobs.

@thearoacemess talks about someone deepthroating a seven-inch banana without a hitch.

The stream does a flashback to the kilt time. It is a mistake. @queermarzipan barrels in and is being too slutty about the knees.

I tell them they need jesus, and they yell about how they've gone to mass twice today and they're an atheist.

Thankfully, @vitrilol starts chanting about the glory of Ireland. The only thing that will distract Marzipan from David Tennant is Ireland.

He proceeds to start screech-singing in all caps.

🎵IRELAND IIIRELAND TOGETHER STANDING TALLLL.🎵

The BAFTAs end. People are still thirsting over David Tennant.

🎵I KNOW YOU'RE MISSING HOME IT'S SO LONG SINCE YOU'VE BEEN🎵

Uh, more dubious things about David, suits and the absence of said suits are discussed. I'm trying my damndest not to notice.

🎵AND THE LIFE YOU HAD IN DUBLIN NOW AIN'T NOTHIN BUT A DREAM🎵

There is accidental Mascot lore: I am apparently from a different timeline (I mixed up timeline and timezone) and that's how Apollo deposited me in an illegal sushi restaurant where I became Neil Gaiman and Michael Sheen's intellectual child.

I am compared to a cat.

TOM HIDDLESTON AND DAVID TENNANT WERE IN THE STAGED-LIKE THING IN THE BEGINNING AHAHAHAHAH LOKI AND CROWLEY MY TWO CELESTIAL GENDERFLUID ICONS.

OKAY so I will end the summary here and make a list of out of context quotes in a new post. Because. Boy oh boy. That deserves its own post.

#good omens mascot #weirdly specific but ok #asmi #david tennant #bafta 2024 #good omens #maggots #good omens fandom #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #michael sheen #bafta awards #bafta #bafta livestream #tom hiddleston #loki #ireland #macbeth

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 months

Text

Unexpected 39

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The doors of the operating room fade behind you as the anesthetic takes you under. The splitting pain dulls as you sink beneath the veil of artificial sleep. Laced within the clouds of your unconscious you hear the beeping of machines, the clinks of metal tools in the tray, and the deep voice of your unshakeable pest; Lloyd Hansen.

The dread and horror are equally muddled by the intravenous flow. You feel a distant tugging, a plucking deep within, and somewhere beyond, you hear squalling. You’re vaguely aware of the sudden weight taken from you, and that new one that settles in its place. Tight and tender.

You float back to the surface slowly. Wading up above the layers of oblivion until you hear that steady rhythm, feeling it in your chest. That incessant tempo of your pulse mirrored by a digital beep. You groan and suck back a dribble of drool along your lip.

A longer, louder noise rolls from your throat. The pain nips its way through and your lashes flutter lightly, giving short glimpses of the world that awaits you. You hear fussing, low whispers and the soft murmur that responds. Hushing and humming that draws you in.

“Grhhhhsh,” the gibberish slips from your lips and your hand bounces off the rail clumsily.

You open your eyes, vision fuzzy and ears thrumming. A shadow approaches as you turn your head, blinking as you try to see past the sheen of sleep. You smile dopily as your head swims. Your other hand lingers on your thigh and you cautiously feel higher; you’re now doughy where the flesh was once taught.

“Bay-bee,” you pronounce, “girl.”

“Ah, sweet cakes, yes, you have a beautiful daughter,” Dottie’s voice drips into your ears, comforting you as it pools in your chest, “she was just lookin’ for ya.”

“Dot,” you utter weakly.

“Yes’m,” she touches your arm gently, “you want the precious bean?”

“Dot,” you open and close your hand, reaching for her without finding her, “where… Lllllll.” you swallow and lean back heavily, “tired.”

“Here,” Dottie leaves you, returning in an orb of red and pink. She takes your arm and hooks it around the warm bundle she eases onto your chest, “there, there. Look at that cute little peach.”

You look down. You feel the tiny form squirm and your eyes pinpoint on her face. A baby. Your baby? Yes, your daughter. The girl without a name.

“Harlan’s just gone to get the nurse,” she comforts as she stays close, “we’re just waiting to get the paperwork done. She needs a name and all that.”

You stare at the infant. Your heart feels like iron. Still and cold. You curl your lip and turn your chin up.

“Take her,” you murmur.

“You okay, darling?” She rubs your shoulder.

“I said take it. Now,” you demand harshly, “I don’t… I can’t.”

“It’s alright,” Dottie lifts the child from your arm, “you been through a lot, we’ll just give you some time to get your bearings.”

You scowl and don’t say how you don’t think you’ll ever want to hold that thing again. The way it wriggles and whimpers, so quietly. It’s so light and small, it may as well be nothing.

“Well, whatcha wanna call her?”

“I don’t care,” you sniff, “ask him.”

“Well, we had some ideas but Marion didn’t say which he liked,” she explains as she lays the baby back in the small rolling crib.

“How about Marion? After the father?” You snap dryly.

“Hmm, I dunno,” Dottie hums, “you want some water, I got some here–”

“I don’t want to be here,” you retort and immediately cringe, “I’m… sorry, I’m just…”

There’s no way that baby is yours. You can’t remember anything more than the gripping agony in your gut. And now, the pain persists. All that and for what?

“I’m tired. Hurting,” you lie, only in that it’s not the reason you lashed out.

“Right, honey, that’s okay,” she assures once more.

“Just going to doing a check,” The nurse enters.

You glance up and see Harlan dip in behind her. You smile at him and search behind him, expecting another to follow. Nothing but an empty doorway.

“How’s the pain, scale of one to ten?” The nurse asks as she fiddles with your IV.

“Ten,” you grit out.

“Mmm, we’ll see what we can get you for that,” she says, “gotta make sure you’re able to feed your daughter.”

You frown. Feed? You look down at your swollen chest and moan at the fullness that throbs in your tits. Fuck.

“We can have an advisor come to help you with latching,” the nurse offers, “you should feed soon.”

“Fine,” you shrug. “When can I leave?”

“It’ll be a couple of days so we can keep an eye on your recovery. We’ll make sure you know the proper aftercare before you’re discharged.”

“Days?” You grumble.

“Yes, you have a new incision so you can’t be moving too much. Once you’re home, you’re going to be limited, no lifting, no strenuous activity…”

“Great,” you shake your head.

You stare at your body, deformed beneath the flannel blanket. You can feel it. You're totally ruined. You weren't ever a supermodel but the damage is done. Worn and loose and gross.

“Baby’s getting hungry,” Dottie says softly, “please send in the therapist so we can get her fed.”

You stay silent. The nurse leaves as you glare at the door. He has to show up any minute now.

“Where’s Ll–”

“Now we were just talking about names,” Dottie interjects, “Harley, why don’t you tell her the one you liked.”

“Oh, uh, hope I’m not to forward sayin’ so,” he says.

You look at him. Just say it. At this point, they can choose.

“I liked Luna,” Harlan says, “cause that little moonlight in her nursery, ya see… always liked the looka the moon.”

You nod. It’s pretty. You can’t think of much else and they definitely wouldn’t want you calling her the leech.

“I like Luna,” you agree flatly, “fine with me.”

“Well, that’s a nice name,” Dottie chimes, “yeah, Luna, it suits her. Shining and all.”

“Where is Lloyd?” You ask curtly.

Dottie smiles and looks at Harlan. His lips are straight and set. He swallows tightly.

“Now, hon, he… just went out to deal with some stuff, to make sure you can go home,” she explains, “I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“Oh.” You accept bluntly. “Right.”

“Too bad you didn’t see him,” she takes out her phone, “but I got a picture.” She holds up the screen to show you the image of Lloyd holding the bundle child. His eyes are wide as he stares at her. “Baby looks just like you, sweetheart.”

“Does i– she?” You ask.

“Well, I think so,” Dottie says, “but you know, babies always take after their daddies early on.”

You nod and play with the string of the linen gown. You watch the door. Waiting. This isn’t your mistake, it’s his.

#unexpected #lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #series #au #sequel #the gray man

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stargloom · 1 month

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hey. i dont like doing this. and i dont want to be a tumblr bitch who's wrote a callout before. but i cannot in good faith continue posting in the same community as this guy and allow him to pretend to not be genuinely a sicko. but @/bloomingduskk (who im sure will change urls after i post this is. a prosh.ipper radq.eer trans.d alongside a plethora of unfavorable unethical things. most of which being too personal to share, but enough left for me to be uncomfortable with my own silence. tw for like fucking everything lol

I never wanted to be in this position, or ever have to be the author of something like this. I am not a confrontational person or someone who enjoys drama, i’m entirely someone who goes out of his way not to get involved in such things, but due to my past public friendships with this person, and his tendencies of covering his tracks and lying about me and my friends, i feel as if it would be cowardly of me not to at least issue a warning about this user, and hope my message is conveyed well. If this was solely a personal gripe, I would not come out with a doc publically, I have no intentions of being petty, and am purposely leaving out a lot of petty issues and things that have been done to harm me personally. I only intend to talk about the actual dangers he promotes, and provide counterclaims to the narratives he tends to enjoy putting out.

Before going further, i will be addressing him by his url, or nothing at all, as i will not be calling him by the japanese name he chooses to go by as a white person. It is against my morals. I hope that my decision doesn’t make this document more confusing than it needs to be.

--- bloomingduskk uses Japanese names as a white person, and has done so for a while. He currently uses the name “maki” , and for the last half of 2023, went by Kaede, despite the fact that i firmly told him not to due to it being cultural appropriation multiple times, and each time he gave me an excuse, before continuing to do it. This is not a targeted attack against him, as he has said before in regard to being told not to use a japanese name, but something that i would condemn no matter who the person was. He identify(s)d as transracial. No matter the mental health issues you may have, the entire concept of “transitioning” into an ethnic minority is racist and entirely unacceptable. Here was his response to that.

And here is him self describing as transracial, and his pinned post on his old radqueer blog

^^ his discord at the time, which i and many others have personal dms with, matched exactly with his radq.ueer blogs. he cannot fucking say this isnt him i will go insane if he tries to deny this shit. He has spoken about me under the guise that I am stalking him, despite never having me blocked on anything but an old art account, and also the fact that I have gone out of my way, due to having severe morality ocd, not to scroll through or look at his content. All screenshots were provided to me secondhand, and not from my own devices, due to how severe this situation was for me, a person with ocd who he knew has ocd. At the time of these screenshots, i specifically requested my friends to block out his usernames so i didn't obsessively compulsively make myself feel sick scrolling through his blogs. (the screenshots in question here are not mine, i own a samsung galaxy, this ui does not match. I added my own annotations to the second image though.) VV his self identification as a proshipper + some stuff he had on his propara blogs (heavy tw)

^^ the first image here is in repsonse to an extremely long and thought out message my friend sent him during this period to this specific blog of his when it still existed.

his response to this was full of lies and empty promises and excuses, and plenty of vapid words he has taken back. i dont see a point in including what he had to say about this purely because he was lying through his teeth.

his twt account was probably the worst thing of his that was shown to me. i do not want to include screenshots of the things he would retweet as they were all sexually explicit imagery and posting of pedophilia, rape, beastiality, severe abuse, loli/shota content, and general dangerous and exploitative philias. i do not want to make that content more reachable to anyone than it already is . this account has been deleted. but i have been given screenshots of him posting his art there. along with the most tame thing i think he posted there. yeah

a lot of the harm he has done to my friends and i is extremely personal, far more personal than i feel comfortable airing out on a public blog that i've worked hard to distance a public personality from. so, i am not willing to spend time slowly outlining every single lie and harmful action he has done. that would make this post impossibly long, and i dont have the stomach to retrigger myself in this way. this has taken me two months to write, as i am deeply bothered by it and this entire event with him made me the sickest i'd been in a long while. do not fucking harass him. block him. im certain he's going to send himself anon asks pretending to be stargloom rabid fans or pretend to be my friends or whatever but all i want is for him to stay the fuck away from me and my friends and spaces where he pretends he isn't into vile shit. block him. dont interact. dont send him anything. just be careful of this cunt . i refuse to let him walk around as if he hasn't happily and enthusiastically promoted the most vile content one can enjoy.

im sure he's gonna scramble after this and probably start spewing revolting shit abt me which hes done at every single turn after me being upset. but he cannot pretend like nothing happened forever. thanks.

#long post #starspeak #jesus christ. now i gotta fucking trigger tag this shit #tw inc*st #tw pedophila mention #tw sh #tw zoophile mention #tw unsanitary #i already said this but DO NOT harass him please just dont interact w this sicko or engage w his work #i know he will send himself anon asks its his favourite game but genuinely. dont do that. thanks #this is rebloggable please do if u can i dont like how he slinks around in the dgr fandom all innocent #tw r4p3 #bruh i cannot keep up w these censored tags #i will probs rb this throughout the week bc i want . this to be known #i am leaving this up because i dont want this to be ignored or forgotten about .

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agaypanic · 1 year

Note

First off your username is a whole ass mood, also, could I request a fic with Klaus Baudelaire? Their on the Qeequeg and reader gets jealous of Fiona and her flirting with klaus. I’m a whore for Klaus Baudelaire

Guess (Klaus Baudelaire X GN!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Y/n has been with the Baudelaires since they showed up on Monty’s doorstep. When they board the Queequeg, Y/n can’t help the jealousy overcome when Fiona gets a little too close to Klaus.

A/N: I can’t remember the exact plot of the grim grotto, so in this they’re all just kinda hanging out on the Queequeg ig lol

***

If you had asked Y/n L/n where they saw themself in a few months, they wouldn’t have guessed all the unfortunate events they and the Baudelaires had experienced. Bouncing from guardian to guardian, only tagging along with the Baudelaires because the late Dr. Montgomery Montgomery, their own guardian, was tragically murdered and coincidentally wanted Y/n to be taken care of by the also late Josephine Anwhistle. Being chased down by a homicidal, overgrown theater kid after the Baudelaire fortune.

They also wouldn’t have guessed their current predicament, being stuck in a submarine captained by a teenager. Her name was Fiona Widdershins. She had become captain of the Queeqeug ever since her stepfather got a distress call from a manatee. She was looking for a sugar bowl, the same one that the Baudelaire’s former guardian Esme Squalor was after.

She was also very captivating, especially to a certain Baudelaire. And it pissed Y/n off.

Klaus wasn’t theirs; they knew that. Y/n was constantly reminded of that. But watching as he and Fiona worked closely together to locate the sugar bowl, flirty remarks from her every now and then, Y/n couldn’t stop the jealousy from overcoming them.

“He doesn’t even know her,” Y/n muttered as she watched the two laugh at a joke from afar.

“You know,” Y/n was startled by Violet’s sudden presence beside them, “You could tell him how you feel. It would be better than moping around, watching the two of them.”

“Absolutely not.” Y/n shook the ridiculous idea away. “That would end in disaster.”

“How so?”

“When Klaus rejects me-”

“He won’t.”

“Fine. If he rejects me, we’ll still be stuck together in a submarine until God knows when. And the situation’s awkwardness would be so suffocating that I would jump out into the sea to escape it.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” Violet laughed at the visual of Y/n’s words. “Klaus won’t reject you, Y/n. I know it.”

“Then why is he flirting with Fiona right in front of us like that?”

“He probably doesn’t see it as flirting, just regular conversation. Klaus may be book smart, but he’s not exactly versed in things like relationships.”

Y/n knew this was true. They had known the Baudelaires long enough to know that they weren’t very experienced when it came to romantic feelings. Most of the experience they did have was from the people they had encountered when their unfortunate events had first started to occur.

“Whatever, I’m still not gonna tell him.”

“Tell who what?” Y/n was again startled by another Baudelaire sibling, Klaus. It seemed that Fiona had gone to steer the submarine in the needed direction, because she was out of the room.

“Actually, we were talking about-” Y/n put their hand over Violet’s mouth to stop her from exposing them.

“Nothing!” Y/n had said that louder than they intended to. They cleared their throat. “We weren’t talking about anything.”

Klaus gave Violet a look. Y/n couldn’t decipher what the look meant, he looked confused, but there was some kind of message in his eyes. Violet apparently knew the message because she made up some excuse to leave.

“I’ll go check on Sunny.” She left quickly, leaving Klaus and Y/n alone in the room.

“Shouldn’t you go back to Fiona?” Y/n immediately hit themself mentally for the question. Why did they feel the need to bring Fiona up now that she and Klaus had finally taken a break from flirting with each other?

“Why would I go back to Fiona?” Klaus looked even more confused. Y/n couldn’t help rolling their eyes.

“Why wouldn’t you? You two were flirting and close together so much that I’m half surprised you didn’t start kissing right there.” Why was Y/n digging themself into an even deeper hole?

Klaus laughed.

Why the hell was he laughing?

“Y/n, are you jealous?” He asked, looking intently at them. They averted their eyes, knowing that looking at him would reveal everything. They didn’t feel like jumping out of the submarine right now.

“That’s absurd.” They scoffed. “Public displays of affection are just disgusting, that’s all.” Klaus laughed again.

“Disgusting? Really?” He took Y/n’s hands in his, making them look at him. “Y/n, there was nothing affectionate about my conversations with Fiona.”

“Maybe not on your side, but she seemed to think differently.”

“Why do you care so much?”

“I don’t want to see some girl flirting with the guy I like. Is that such a crime?” Y/n started punching themself on the inside again. Klaus looked pleasantly surprised.

“Last time I checked, it’s not.” Y/n couldn’t understand why he was being so cheeky. “If it makes you feel any better, though, I have it on good authority that the guy you like isn’t interested in Fiona.”

Oh.

“Oh, um… Is the guy I like interested in anyone?” Y/n asked. They had a feeling where this was going, but you could never be too sure about these kinds of things. Klaus nodded.

“Yes, he seems to like a particular someone.”

“And that is?”

Klaus moved closer to Y/n, leaning down. Their lips were so close to touching yet so far.

“Guess.”

#klaus baudelaire #klaus baudelaire x reader #asoue x reader #asoue #a series of unfortunate events #a series of unfortunate events x reader #agaypanic

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flightfoot · 2 months

Text

ML Fanfic Recs for 2023: 80K - 125K Words

So I’ve been going through and adding particularly good fics I’ve read throughout the year. Only Complete fics, of course. Enjoy!

---

Tell Me Why You Love Me by @linnieluna

“Anyway, that piece of paper contains the name of this texting app. It’s completely anonymous, so you can download it, make your account with no attachments to your personal life, and communicate with me outside our suits. I included my username on the paper, too, so you can add me once you’re done."

Her partner skimmed through the words on the paper and nodded his head. “Brilliant as always, M’lady. I’m surprised we didn’t figure this out sooner within our superhero careers.”

“Yeah, it would’ve been nice to have this before, but hey, better late than never. Make sure not to have your phone screen on the messages if you’re going to leave it somewhere. We don’t want anyone reading our texts. Also, this is for emergencies only. No jokes or puns. I can only deal with you for so long.”

“I don’t know if I can agree to that last one,” he said.

Now 22 and working full-time, Marinette and Adrien seem to be getting busier and busier, which means fewer opportunities to keep track of akumas and show up on time. With the idea of using a messaging app to communicate with each other without revealing their identities, their lives immediately grew to be easier... until it wasn't.

This starts off as a mostly slice-of-life fluff fic, but about halfway through things turn dramatic when Monarch learns some things he really shouldn’t and takes action. I had a lot of fun with it as it was coming out, it’s worth a read.

---

Kwami Magi Homura Magica by Crossoverpairinglover

After eighty-four loops in time, Homura Akemi takes a new path to Paris to save her friends.

The sixty-third loop after that, Homura arrived at the Agreste Mansion.

After clash after clash with the heroes of Paris and its greatest menace, events have reached a tipping point.

Ladybug faces someone verging on a second wish, a wish that endangers space and time to save a friend.

This was an absolutely AMAZING story that crossoverpairinglover dropped out of NOWHERE. Seriously, if you like Puella Magi Madoka Magica and Miraculous Ladybug, this is a real treat - but be prepared to sit down and binge, because it’s over 100,000 words and only has three chapters.

Anyway, I adore the care that’s taken with going through Homura’s mindset here, she gets a lot of character focus. And the lore! There’s some good explanations here for the history behind kwamis and Incubators’ interactions, and the Order of the Guardians normally treats Magical Girls, and why the Incubators are wrong in their assessment of the universe needing more energy to stave off entropy (hint: it involves Plagg), and just... there was a lot of love put into this.

And the action! Most Miraculous fics don’t have much in the way of fight scenes, and what they do have is mostly just functional. This is one of the rare exceptions. There’s some really long, detailed fight scenes in this (roughly the entire second half of the second chapter has one between Ladybug and Homura), which are a treat to read!

We also get some glimpses into a variety of other universes here, other timelines, alternate ways things could have gone down - I’m especially partial to the rather detailed view we get of one where Homura sent a message asking for help to the Ladyblog on her third time loop, and how things progressed from there.

The ending I also thought was really good, a happy ending that generally made sense and dealt with the issue of the Incubators.

If you can’t tell I’m really happy with this fic, it was incredible and unexpected. The length of the individual chapters can be daunting, but if you’re up for the task, I highly recommend giving it a shot!

---

If I Let Myself Love You by @uptoolateart

It’s hard to be a normal girl with a normal life when your mother has terminal cancer. And when fashion model Adrien Agreste moves back to Paris and wants to be Marinette’s friend – or maybe even more – her life is turned upside down again.

How can she risk opening her heart to love when her whole world is falling apart? Especially when Adrien is hiding a dark secret of his own….

- COMPLETE FIC – updates on Sundays

*** No kwamis AU - 100% Adrinette. About half of it is fluffy and half heavy. Please read tags for trigger warnings. ***

This fic can be rough, definitely pay attention to the tags. There’s no villains in this story, it mostly centers around themes of dealing with illness - both being sick and having a loved one who’s terminally ill - and death, grieving someone who’s lost, and how difficult that can be. It can get pretty gut-wrenching at times, especially as you slowly discover more layers of what’s really going on, what both Adrien and Marinette are hiding, both from others and from themselves in order to help cope with their circumstances. But they still move forwards together, regardless.

---

Eventually by @lucid-ao3

Adrien’s life has been dictated by rules, monitored, and controlled for years. He has learned to compartmentalize. It’s not that bad. It always gets better, eventually. Doesn’t it?

Recovery can be an unexpected obstacle when you didn’t realize you were being hurt in the first place.

OR: How Adrien lives and copes with the emotional abuse inflicted on him over the years, and how he ultimately could overcome it.

If you want a good “Adrien doesn’t realize how abusive his father is but slowly buckles more and more under his tyranny, until things come to a head, and he actually gets the HELP HE NEEDS” fic, this is a good one!

---

Between the Heavens and the Embers by @readersmoon

Everyone in Paris remembers the fateful night of January 16, when the city was attacked by the most powerful and destructive akuma ever created. The assault, which lasted for hours, resulted in the death of 439 people.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was among the casualties.

Years later, Adrien hasn't been able to move on, haunted by the memories of her broken body. So, when the opportunity to leave Paris for a while presents itself, he doesn't hesitate. But this trip might end up giving him more than he ever dreamt of.

This is a fantastic fic, though a serious and a dark one - make sure to mind the tags, and it’s M-rated for a reason. Vee - or rather, Marinette - is going through a horror story here. Imagine finding out that your life is a lie, that everyone you thought you could trust was manipulating you, that you were just being continually gaslit for years.

As for Adrien, Alya, and Nino... well, none of them took Marinette’s “death” all that well, especially Adrien. Finding out that she’s been alive all this time, in these horrible circumstances, and they had no clue... it’s hard on them as well.

I love how this fic goes into how much trauma everyone has even after the immediate danger’s dealt with, you don’t just walk off this kind of experience, especially with how many years this lasted.

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic rec

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w2soneshots · 3 months

Text

Suprise -W2S

Words: 0.6k+

Warnings: pregnancy.

In which you and Harry enjoy your baby moon.

y/username

Liked by wrotoshaw and 2,004,873 others

y/username: loading... 12/7/24🤍 @wrotoshaw

-comments-

freyanightingale: Im soo happy for you both!!

taliamar: ahh Im crying🥹

tobjizzle: ❤️❤️

behzingagram: Finally!😂

mollymae: so cute, congratulations!

y/nfanpage21: omg yesss!!

Me and Harry held out on announcing my pregnancy online and weren't sure how to do it but it was getting difficult to hide it in videos so we spontaneously decided to announce it while we were on our baby moon in the Bahamas. We told both of our family's and all of our friends almost 2 months ago. All of the girls cried, JJ started contemplating his life and Ethan was very excited to finally have another dad in the group.

Today is the 4th day of our week long trip. When I woke up Harry was nowhere to be found. I got up, slid on one of the two white, fluffy dressing gowns that were hung up in the wardrobe and headed down stairs. "Harry?!" I called out through the villa. "In here!" He called out from the kitchen. I walked into the room and was immediately hit with the smell of bacon and eggs. "Omg, that smells incredible!" I said taking a seat on one of the stools facing Harry. "I was gonna bring you breakfast In bed." he sighed while plating up our food. "It's the thought that counts, plus I wouldn't want to get food on those white sheets and have to pay a cleaning tax." I said. he laughed.

Once we finished our food we went upstairs to get ready because we're spending the rest of the day at the beach. Harry got dressed while I brushed my hair and slicked it back into a ponytail. I put on my black swimsuit and a matching cover up then slipped on some flip flops. Once I was ready I grabbed my beach bag and towel the went downstairs to meet Harry who is sat scrolling through his phone on the couch. "Im done." I said and he quickly got up.

When we got to the beach we picked a slightly shaded spot and set down all of our things. Harry left me for 5 minutes to grab some ice cream while I lay scrolling through instagram when I got a FaceTime call from Faith. "Hey!" I said after I answered. "Hi! I just wanted to check on you. How's the holiday going?" She asked. "Great, Harry's just gone to get some ice cream." I said with a smile. "Omg, I'm so jealous it looks so hot there." she said. "Ye maybe a little too hot." I said fanning myself. She laughed and then said "I remember when I was pregnant with Olive I was always so hot." just as she finished her sentence Harry returned with the ice creams and sat down next to me on his towel. "Well, I'll love you and leave you. Have fun, bye!" she said. I smiled and replied "bye!" then blew a kiss to the screen.

y/username just posted to there story!

Me and Harry spent a few hours sat relaxing on the beach when we decided to head back to the villa to get ready for dinner. We took a shower and Harry got changed while I dried my hair, curled it, put on a little bit of makeup and got into my dress.

"You look beautiful." Harry said when I walked down the stairs. He walked up to me and placed one of his hands on my stomach then gave me a kiss. I smiled and we left. When we arrived at the little restaurant we were taken to a table and given menus. "This all sounds amazing!" I said while my eyes scanned the piece of paper. Once I decided we ordered our food.

"Mmmm" I mumbled with a mouthful of pasta. Harry smiled "I love you so much."

#fanfic #image #oneshot #sidemen #harry lewis #harry w2s #w2s #w2s imagine #w2s x reader #w2s fic #wrotoshaw #instagram

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 6 months

Text

The Princess and the Duke: Chapter 3 Eye of The Storm

This blog is a 18+ space, Minors, do not engage. If you are under the age of 18 you are not welcome here. Please heed these warnings and the warnings put in place on each individual fic and chapter. Your reading and consumption of my work is your responsibility but I will endeavour to mitigate any discomfort for you, the reader, as possible. Once again, this is a 18+ space and minors should not interact. Specific Warnings: SA mention/implied, Dave gets violent with the SA'er, alcohol, past SA, trauma, women having to take precautions because of men's shitty behaviour, drinking, male masturbation, sex work, cam work, let me know if I missed anything.

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Word count: 4.2k~

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The next few weeks pass without incident, your mom seems to take a break from her current fling. That, or she’s getting better at hiding it.

But you’ve decided it’s none of your business anyway. You’ve set up your room to block the light better, re-arranged a few bits of furniture, and ditched the sad beige sheets for black and purple satin ones.

You’re almost certain Dave caught you looking at him the other day when he was swimming. Fucking yourself to the thought of him in the shower became a regular occurrence after that. You hated yourself a little for it, but at the end of the day, light masturbation over a fantasy couldn’t hurt anyone, right?

You shake it off as you prep for your stream, your new cream and gold masquerade mask in position as you sit in a gold silk robe and black lace panties. You log in to your Cam Dolls account and start up the test footage lobby.

You nod to yourself as you flop down onto the bed, testing out the angles as you lay on the bed with a sweet smile on your face. You practice a few poses, making sure your face is nice and concealed with the new mask before resettling into your office chair.

You check your inbox, grateful for the automatic filtering of images the site provides. You have the option to click through to view any image that comes in, but the default blur protects you from what you can only estimate have been thousands of dick pics men have sent over the years.

DukeSilver09 sent you a photo.

The notification shows up mere seconds before you’re due to start streaming, but on some strange whim you open it, almost hoping to see what your most generous patron is packing. He’d recently removed the anonymous flag from his username and when you had looked back through the transaction logs, you’d almost fallen off your chair at the lifetime tip total.

You click the image and there’s a strange warmth in your chest as you see the beautifully captured photograph of a single flower in a vase. A lily. Pink hues bleeding through the centre of the white petals, orange anthers almost luminous in the evening light.

You look up to see you’re already overdue to start. You yelp softly to yourself as you hit the space bar, starting the stream.

~*~

Dave hopes Luna likes lilies, he’d seen the bouquet at a local florist, purchasing it on a whim as he thought about how much your mom might like it. He was really trying, especially since she’d clearly taken a break from Bryce.

But your mom was in one of her usual moods, punishing Dave for her mistakes, for the fact she wouldn’t be able to see Bryce for some time. So, the flowers had gone unnoticed, or actively ignored, so naturally, his thoughts drifted back to Luna.

Because if they didn’t drift to her, it would be you he’d be thinking of, and he can’t let those thoughts take root. He had taken a photo of the single stem, choosing the prettiest of them all, and snapped away for over an hour until he got the perfect shot.

As long as the job goes well tomorrow, he’ll be home by dinnertime. He wonders absently if you’ll be home, you’d been texting frequently throughout the business trip, and he justifies it by telling himself he’s just trying to be a good stepdad.

“Hey there Daddy, you miss me?”

Dave’s mind goes blank as he discards all thoughts about his life at home as he reclines on his bed in his hotel room in Tbilisi. Luna has recently started calling her viewers Daddy and it nearly gave Dave an aneurism the first time he heard it. She’s dressed in Dave’s favourite set, the black lacey thong and matching bra with peekaboo slits. Her nipples are already stiff and inviting.

“You bet I did baby.”

Dave hums under his breath as he pulls his dick out of his sweatpants, it’s too hot and he wishes he were nude, but after the incident in Borneo he vowed to never sleep commando on a mission again.

“I’m missing you so much,” She says with a soft coo as she pouts at the camera, “Haven’t gotten laid in weeks, and these toys just don’t cut it. Might put on a slutty red dress and try my luck this weekend.”

Dave watches in reverence as Luna goes through her new routine, with a generous sprinkling of Daddy added in for effect. He comes hard over his fingers and abs, breathing heavily as he hears Princess Luna come undone as well. A name falls from his lips without thinking, your name, but it’s not until he’s coming down from his high the realisation hits him.

He’s thinking less and less about Princess Luna when he watches her, and more and more about you.

~*~

It’s been a week since Dave got home, and he’s been giving you the cold shoulder. Your mother keeps nagging you about getting a job, or maybe even re-applying for the bar. She assures you lawyers get better pay in Texas due to the cost of living being so much lower than somewhere like New York.

But you’re just not interested.

A notification comes up on your phone as you’re sprawled out on your bed, covered in just a hoodie and yoga pants.

Dave: Have you seen my USMC hoodie?

You look down at the olive-green article of clothing swamping your upper half as you smile. The USMC logo faded and worn, but still very visible as it stretches across your breasts, and you chuckle to yourself. It still smells like him, even though you stole it weeks ago, before his business trip to the Middle East. You should feel guilty, you should wash it and put it back where you found it, but you don’t want to.

You: Not seen it, sorry old man.

Dave: Dammit woman, relent with the “Old Man” shit.

You smile to yourself as you know he’s been watching Parks and Rec, the tongue-in-cheek use of “Dammit woman” something he’s picked up from Ron Swanson.

You: Never, also, I have a bone to pick with you.

Dave: Oh?

You: The Last of Us is fucking sad, I gave you a light-hearted, whimsical series about friendship and joy. I just cried my fucking heart out over Bill and Frank.

Dave: You started watching it without me?

You scoff, as if he has any right to be annoyed at you after the cold shoulder, he’s been giving you.

You: Not my fault you’ve been avoiding me.

You hit send and instantly regret it. Fear pools in your stomach as you consider un-sending it before he can read it. But you’re out of luck, the double blue tick under the message tells you there’s no going back. He types for a few seconds, the ripple of three dots flashing once, then stopping, then flashing again until he stops typing completely.

“Shit.”

You grumble to yourself before throwing your phone to the foot of the bed. You lie back, exhaling through your nose as you try to devise the best way to walk this back. Your text tone pings, and you scramble to the edge of the bed to read it.

Ashleigh: You still on for tonight babe?

You groan at the prospect of going out, but maybe it’s what you need, to get away from Dave. To clear your head. Maybe you’ll even bring someone home.

~*~

Dave doesn’t see you, nor hear from you for the rest of the day. He checks his emails, watches some more of Parks and Rec, then works out. He pushes himself to overexertion, trying to burn the feelings away through sore muscles and the inevitable endorphin rush.

He heads up the stairs, fresh out of the shower, in just a pair of grey sweatpants and a white short-sleeve Henley. Water droplets bead in his hair as he lets it air dry. He grabs a beer from the fridge and sits at the breakfast island to scroll through the news on his phone. International news was surprisingly quiet on his recent job, which both relieved him and made him a little bitter at the lack of infamous, anonymous, acclaim he so often basked in after a job.

“Hey mom, I’m heading out, Ashleigh’s here!”

His head snaps up at the sound of your voice and he curses the way his body reacts to it. Dave takes a steadying breath as he hears you coming down the stairs, your steps are slower, more purposeful than your normal hurried stomping. Dave hates that he can tell something is up just from hearing your footsteps. He convinces himself it’s because of his line of work, but he knows it’s not that.

“Oh, hey Dave, found your hoodie.”

Your voice sends shivers down his spine as he looks up from his phone. His nostrils flare and his mouth is suddenly drier than the Sahara. The red dress is impossibly tight, showing off every dip, curve, and swell of your body. A small silver clutch in one hand and a very familiar looking green hoodie in the other. Your heels are so tall he can barely understand how you are able walk in them, which explains the change in your gait.

“Hey, thanks.”

He nods curtly before taking a swig of his beer, his eyes flicking straight back to the news on his phone. He has to look away, he’s already at half-mast and the guilt that gnaws at his stomach is already too much to bear.

“Jesus Dave, lighten up, it’s Friday night.”

You sigh before throwing the hoodie over the stool opposite him. You both turn to look towards the front door as Ashleigh blares her horn.

“Have a good night,” Dave murmurs your name as he rakes his eyes over you once more, he sees the way you look at him, devouring his domesticity as he consumes your purposeful display of raw sexuality in turn. He doesn’t understand you and that pisses him off. It’s his job to read people, to know them, and yet here you are, making him feel more nervous than he has done in decades.

“Sure, you too, Duke.”

Dave’s blood runs cold as he chokes on his beer. You give him a confused look as Ashleigh blares her horn again.

“Duke, like Duke Silver from Parks and Rec? Fuck, I’ll remember not to crack wise at you again.”

Before Dave can answer you’re gone, slamming the front door, which in turn makes your mother yell after you. He groans as he drops his head into his hands. His dick aches as he adjusts himself in his sweats before finishing his beer. He heads to the fridge, grabs the rest of the six pack before scooping up his hoodie.

He almost comes in his pants as he pulls it over his head. All he can smell is you. That coconut body wash you get imported from the UK, your caffeine shampoo that smells like black pepper and pine, and something he’s never had the pleasure of experiencing before. Your natural scent, like nothing he has ever known. Sweet, but musky. Soft, but tinged with perspiration. It’s intoxicating and cloying, he feels like he’s being smothered to death but making no attempt to stop it.

“I’m going to hell for this.”

~*~

You don’t know where it all went wrong.

You’re sat on the wet, filthy tiles of Tristan – the guy you went home with because you thought might have been a good lay – and his housemates’ bathroom. Mascara tracks down your cheeks and you think your nose is broken, blood drips onto the floor between your legs as you sob into the palm clamped over your mouth.

“Open the fucking door.”

Tristan’s nasally voice barks as he slams his body against the flimsy barrier between you. Your dress is torn, you don’t know where one of your shoes is, and you’re fumbling with your phone to try and get hold of Ashleigh. But every time it goes to voicemail. You grind your teeth together in frustration as you swallow your pride and call Dave.

It rings twice before he declines the call. Your heart clenches tightly in your chest as more tears spring forth. You try again, and again, and on the fourth attempt he finally picks up.

“What?”

He barks down the phone, and you let out another hiccupping sob at his tone. You pull your phone away from your face ready to hang up but as your finger trembles over the red “End Call” button you hear his voice again.

“Hey? Hey, what’s going on?”

His voice immediately softening as he hears your distress.

“Dave I-,” You sob again, “I need you to come get me.”

“Where are you?”

You reel off the address, inwardly praising yourself for making sure to jot it down on your notes app when you decided to go home with this asshole. Unfortunately, it isn’t the first time you’ve had to get someone to help after a one-night stand has gone wrong. You thought you’d learned from your mistakes, but if that were the case you wouldn’t be here right now.

“Maps says it’ll take me fifteen minutes, think you can hold on for that long sweetheart?”

“I think so.”

“Want me to stay on the line?”

“I don’t have much battery left, but yes, please.”

“So, want to talk about what happened?”

“Sure,” You take a steadying breath, grateful for the distraction, “Was having a great night, Ashleigh found someone to go home with, nice looking girl too.”

“Oh yeah? And what about you?” You hear the Mustang roar to life in the background as a car door slams.

“My guy was nice looking, not so nice when it came to fully informed, enthusiastic consent.” You laugh bitterly as your toes curl in discomfort. There’s silence on the other end for a few seconds and you have to check your phone hadn’t died.

“This fucker hurt you?”

Dave’s tone is impossibly dark, menacing even as you try not to think about how much that turns you on.

“No, but I think I broke my nose when I headbutted him.”

Dave laughs at that; a soft exhale and you feel like he approves of your ill-gotten injury.

“You make the fucker squeal?”

“Something like that,” You laugh, finding Dave’s voice soothing as you hear the engine snarling in the background as Dave races through the streets of Austin, “I’m sorry Dave, sorry about being such an ass.”

“Enough of that, I’m not far now, hang on baby, I’ve got you.”

Baby.

The pet name shouldn’t get you so hot and bothered, but it does, despite sitting in some shit-head’s bathroom, his blood and your own smeared on your lips and your eyes raw from crying. Despite everything, you’d give anything to hear him call you that again.

“Dave it’s been like ten minutes at most, how?”

“Ran a few red lights, might be speeding a little, doesn’t matter.”

“Dave, don’t do anything stupid for me.”

“I’d do anything to keep you safe,” Your name spills from his lips and you finally let go. Tears stream down your cheeks as you finally admit to yourself that you like Dave way more than you should. All you want is to be wrapped up in his arms as he just holds you.

“Ok I’m out-.” The line goes dead, and you look down to see a blank screen.

~*~

Dave sprints up the stairs, pistol tucked into the back of his sweatpants as his breath comes in short, aggressive bursts. Logically he knows it’s just that your phone died, but the moment the line went dead something inside him snapped.

He composes himself as he reaches the apartment door. He can hear multiple male voices on the other side and his jaw ticks to the side as he tries to control his rage. He knocks gently and waits for the door to swing open. A broad, blonde-haired, blue-eyed asshole appears as the smell of cheap cigarettes and booze rolls over the threshold. Dave smirks at the state of the larger man’s face, his right eye is swollen, and his nose plugged with tissue.

“Hey there, which one of you fine gentlemen is Tristan?”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“That doesn’t matter, all that matters is you’re going to let me in, show me where your bathroom is, and I’m going to take the woman hiding in there home, understood?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, get lost.”

Tristan tries to slam the door in Dave’s face, but he anticipated this. He slams his palm against the flimsy door before shoving with all his might. Tristan is caught off guard and stumbles back into the apartment.

“I’m so glad you decided to be a prick.”

Dave’s smile doesn’t leave his face as Tristan comes at him swinging but unlike Tristan, Dave is sober. He ducks under the blow with ease, he jabs Tristan twice in the side, precise strikes to the kidney and liver. Tristan makes a sound like a wounded animal as he thrashes around.

Dave dances around the lumbering oaf – toying with his prey – loving the thrill of dominating such a bigger man with just good footwork and keen reflexes. It makes his blood sing in his veins; his smile is so wide it burns his cheeks with exertion. He could do this for hours.

He lets Tristan flail for a bit longer, but the joy quickly fades as Dave remembers why he’s here. He cracks a swift uppercut to the asshole’s jaw to finish him off. Tristan crumples like a sack of shit and Dave flexes his hand, working out the pain from the impact.

The other two spring up off the couch and before they can cross the distance Dave has his gun pointed at Tristan’s head.

“Either of you touch the girl?”

Dave barks as he cocks the hammer back in a warning. Both men shake their heads, holding their palms up in surrender as Dave nods slowly.

“Good, now I’m going to get the girl and take her home. I’m a federal agent, so if you two shit heads or this one,” Dave gestures with his gun at the unconscious lump on the floor, “Come after her, or try and report this to law enforcement, I will come back, and I won’t be as merciful.”

Dave stalks through the apartment, calling out your name and the moment he hears your voice it’s as if nothing else matters. He makes a beeline for the only closed door in the apartment and knocks gently. The door opens and his heart seems like it stops as he takes you in.

Your dress is ripped, there’s so much blood on your bare skin, your eyes are puffy, and your make-up is smeared all over your face.

“Let’s get you home.”

Dave scoops you up into his arms and he carries you out of the shitty apartment, you don’t miss the way his lips brush against the crown of your head as you bury your face into his chest.

~*~

Your mom is asleep – or more accurately, passed out – by the time you and Dave return home. Dave tries to take you upstairs, to your room, but you protest meekly.

“No,” You breathe as you fist your hands in Dave’s blood-stained hoodie, “Don’t want to be alone, can we go downstairs?”

“Whatever you need.” Dave responds, his voice barely more than a whisper as he lowers you down. You test your balance and the moment you can stand you pull away from Dave. You’re embarrassed, you’re almost thirty years old and you’ve just relived one of many horrific moments in your life that you swore you would never let happen again.

Worst of all, you got Dave mixed up in it.

“I’m just going to lock up, head on down, I’ll be with you in a minute.”

There’s a brief pause where your eyes meet, and you know he didn’t mean it that way but the look on his face tells you he realises how it sounded. He coughs awkwardly and turns towards the kitchen. Your eyes widen as you see the gun tucked into his sweatpants, the hem of his hoodie caught up around the handle, exposing the piece to you with mother of pearl grips glinting as he walks.

You stumble downstairs into the basement and make your way into Dave’s room. His PC is on, but you don’t notice the Cam Dolls website open as you stumble into the ensuite, if you were in any other state of mind, you probably would have.

You strip off, your damaged dress practically coming undone at the seams. You spend what feels like hours under the hot water, lathering Dave’s shower gel over your body. You wrap yourself in his scent and wash it off. Only to repeat the process again and again as you try and wash the touch of your assailant from your skin. Eventually you give up, the intrusive thoughts muted as much as you can hope for as you wrap yourself up in one of the fluffy grey towels on the shelf.

You step out into his bedroom to see a grey US Navy t-shirt, a pair of black sweatpants and your baby blue moccasin-style slippers in a neat pile on the end of Dave’s bed. The bedroom door is closed, and you quickly slip into the clothes left for you. The PC monitor is now off, but you’re not paying much attention to your surroundings anyway.

You head into the basement to see Dave sat on the edge of the sofa, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together as his strong chin rests atop them. He’s lost deep in thought as you approach. You seem to startle him as you sit down next to him. He turns to look at you with a vacant stare.

You can’t help but drink him in, his plush lips part softly, his dark eyes swimming with emotion as he looks you over. You want to straddle his hips, kiss him, and lose yourself in him, just like with his body wash. You want him to make you forget, you want him to comfort you.

But most of all, you just want him.

“Hey.” You say softly as you search his dark eyes for any indication of what he’s thinking.

“Hey.”

“I think I just popped my nose, doesn’t seem broken.” You say as you scrunch up your face and wiggle your nose, only wincing slightly at the stab of pain the action brings.

“Good.” Is all Dave can muster as he feels his heart break at the sight of you. You’re forlorn, lost, vulnerable. He laments that your usual sass and barbed tongue are ostensibly muted.

He feels responsible somehow, maybe if he’d not been so wrapped up in his own internal struggle, he would have gotten you to stay in, watch tv together. Do anything else but let you go out and let someone hurt you.

“Dave?”

His head snaps up as he realises that he’s been spiralling.

“What? What can I do?”

“I don’t want to be weird,” You take a deep breath as you try and muster the courage to ask for what you need, but you fumble, “But could we put something on the TV?”

“Of course.” Dave answers almost without thinking but he can’t understand your hesitancy.

“Cool, cool,” You nod quickly before you just let go and ask for what you want, “Shit, no, that’s not what I wanted to ask. Can you- can you hold me?”

Dave’s brain almost short circuits as he replays the words over in his mind like a broken record. He opens his mouth and closes it a few times before you chicken out. You feel the sting of rejection constrict tightly in your chest and you feel the tears burning in your eyes as you realise how fucked up you must sound.

“Sorry, forget it, I’m just drunk,” You lie, “I think I should just head to bed.”

You move to get up but the press of Dave’s broad hand on your thigh stops you in your tracks. You look up to see longing in Dave’s eyes as he gives you a soft, vulnerable smile.

“Come here.”

Dave removes his hand from your leg as he leans back, spreading his arms wide, an invitation.

You take a shaky breath, and do as you’re told. You scoot closer to him, pulling your feet underneath you as you lean into his chest. You let out a soft hum as his one arm moves from around the back of the sofa to curl around you. His other hand falls to your knee, squeezing gently as you press into him. He removes his hand from your knee for a brief moment to start the next episode of Parks and Rec.

You both know it’s wrong, that this is crossing a line and coming back from this would be difficult, if not impossible. But neither of you can bring yourselves to stop, not now, and maybe not ever.

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pastel-omegas-blog · 1 year

Note

Hey champ. I’ve been reading your fics since you started posting Sweet Desires on Quotev, you might even remember me from your comments, although I’ve changed usernames multiple times. Your stories are always incredible, you get me addicted every single time. Anyways, I would like to ask you how was MC and Marrav as kids? Like when they first met as young kids, and then when they married in their pre teen (?) years.

Pardon if this is a bother, though. Thanks for the attention, mate.

Ahhhhhhh💕 really from Sweet desires, my early fumbling days.

I'm so glad you've stuck around to see me do more

MARRAV

Honestly there is no history of anything wrong going on between them it's all Marrav's fault

M/N and Marrav were bethroted to each other when the omega was four and the prince was eight.

Marrav's father, the late Emperor was the one who picked out the h/c pup specially for his son, telling Marrav to watch and take good care of him and for a while the young pup did.

He saw his young fiance as weak and fragile so he took it upon himself to make sure well taken care of and eating properly.

Young Marrav made sure M/N had the best, made sure the servants treated him properly and met his every need.

After all his husband only deserved the very best.

The first two years were honestly fluff filled.

These caring moments are the ones the d/c man still hold on to dearly.

When Marrav turned eleven his attitude started to change.

The kind caring pup was gone and in it's place was a young brash rude alpha that had suddenly developed a god complex.

This Marrav absolutely detest the thought of M/N being his future mate.

How can he, a strong powerful prodigy that has talent and strength be paired up with a scrawny good for nothing omega ?!

What had his father been thinking ?!

He tries to push away the h/c pup away from him, not wanting to do anything with him.

What changed this sweet boy that formerly would do absolutely anything for his future husband was noting his over growing ego.

People have always been praising him because of his imperial blood and being recognized as being a genius, but it hadn't really changed his innocent childlike mind set ( he had been a little arrogant before but nothing too bad ) but then people started saying he was too good for something like M/N.

The people would praise his strength and then say that something like M/N who couldn't even cast any single månå spell didn't deserve to be his future husband.

And after hearing this so much he started to believe them and his mother's pampering just makes this attitude worse.

The empress Evangeline absolutely hates the thought of her precious little pup having to marry that little devil's container.

And she makes it known with how she's constantly fighting with her sickly husband to get him to change his mind and with how horribly she treats the h/c boy.

Marrav is a momma's boy and since his mother refuses for M/N to be the person to carry the next generation of Vermillion heirs, then he doesn't want him too.

But nothing they do will make the Emperor change his mind.

So Marrav gets creative.

If he can't get his father to listen then he'll make M/N leave.

So from then on his treatment becomes worse.

From insulting to publicly disgracing the poor pup to even going as far as hitting him in some times to get him to leave him alone.

But no matter what he does M/N doesn't ever complain or leave him alone. It's almost as if the s/c pup has been brain washed to not find any fault in anything he does.

If Marrav yells at him he doesn't cry.

If he makes fun of him he takes it quietly.

If he pushes him down to the ground he just gets up and dusts himself even if he scrapes his hands and knees.

He hates hearing his name come out of that ' things ' mouth so he bans the other from saying it.

" Of course your majesty , if that's what makes you happy then I'll do it "

The young pup says giving him an innocent smile.

A smile that Marrav has now grown to hate.

When Marrav turns fourteen his father dies and he's set to inherit the throne.

That's if he marries M/N.

If he doesn't the throne will be passed to either one of his younger brothers or cousin.

This is the turning point for Marrav.

Being forced to marry who in his mind is a good for nothing useless bug that will bring nothing but shame to his family name solidifies the already massive hate he has for the innocent omega.

The marriage ceremony between the two is bleak, colourless and depressing.

Once the vows are said Marrav doesn't move to kiss the M/N, he just stared at him with venom and hate before walking out of the hall.

Once the marriage has been concluded the dark haired alpha has M/N shipped off to the small dingy mansion at the edge of the imperial palace grounds.

How he treats him from then on is very well known by now.

But M/N at least this version of him doesn't see any fault in Marrav's attitude so he blames himself and goes through extreme length to get his husband to notice him.

Doing all the kingdoms paperwork, striking deals with neighbouring country's, listening to the former Empress every word and over all just over exerting himself to make Marrav happy and notice him for even just a second.

He misses the warm look and sweet smile that the alpha used to give him when they were younger.

He misses all the care the dark haired man used to have for him.

It hurts him so much how drastically his love has changed.

All those happy moments.

He'll do anything to get that back, even if it means sacrificing himself and we'll being to achieve it.

#omegaverse #mc #dearly detested #ask #nobility #omega male reader #x omega male reader #x male reader #Marrav

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cialovesklopp · 10 months

Text

𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 | k.mbappé

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — where a talented singer climbs back to the top of the music industry while also managing her newly couple life that is going very strong

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — kylian mbappé x amara imani (oc)

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 8.1k 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 — hrs & hrs [muni long]

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — the revenge era can officially begin and amara can be sure to count on kylian. i apologize for the delay, i had a very busy week and words weren’t wording. also thank you to my lovely angel @lorarri for giving me all this inspiriation and also thank you to @aechii

taglist: @lorarri @locedes @aechii

masterlist

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌

𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞

liked by selenagomez, dualipa and 26.732.195 others

amara.imani thank u, next officially out — very happy that i got to work with this gorgeous queen on my first song after the hiatus @arianagrande we did good 💋

view all 167.423 comments

arianagrande we were fab 💋

liyah.clark that song is so GENUIS, on repeat the entire day, you two slayeddd

honeymoon_avenue why did this song make me rethink my sexuality

amara.e.imani1 it certainly proved that amara imani and ariana grande are two gorgeous women

stanamara_imani bi-panic immediately

graceywood all those late phone calles def paid off, the song is amazing, already breaking records

username MY NEW FAVORITE SONG

username it def gave Evan a taste of his own medicine

username FR, Amara and Ariana really roasted him

𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢

liked by selenagomez, dualipa and 26.732.195 others

amara.imani “look at you, boy i invented you” — in my head OUT NOW, the second of many coming

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𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

she was truly back. days, weeks, months had gone into this, had prepared her for this day and yet it felt even more special than she had ever anticipated. she had put everything into it, her time, her energy, her motivation— amara doesn’t think she would have survived if it had failed. the photo dump she had posted had announced her return but it were the publifications of thank u, next and in my head that had truly officialised her return to the music industry, — her comeback to the top.

especially thank u, next was one of her faves. the passive agressive but easy message towards her ex had truly given her the closure she needed before sue could continue. the finishing to their story that had taken so many ups and downs. their relationship had been a short high, a period of her life but one, that was over now — the message she tried to transfer through the song. she was genuinely thankful for evan, for showing her what love should NOT be like and for paving the way for kylian. who knows how long she would have stayed in that toxic environment if he hadn’t cheated on her?

was it smart to publicly shame evan and give misogynistic music critics the confirmation that she was just a copy of the likes of taylor swift and beyoncé? maybe not. but was she still proud she had done it? hell yeah.

deep down, she knew that the reason she had written the song was to shut up every newsletter and gossip magazine that claimed she was still crying over him, that their relationship was the only thing she was worth. she had matured a lot over the time, had let her feelings out and written them down before she had gotten the idea. why should she act like the mature woman who had to find five ways to euphemism the way he treated her when it should be him, who could just act mature the moment she would release the song? accept the fact that he hadn’t been the nicest to her and claim the criticism?

it were officially two days that had passed since she had released “thank u, next” and to be honest, amara was still buzzing. people could try to hide it but the song was genuis. everything that had been poured into it was a success. and she could never be thankful enough to ariana grande for accepting to be featured on the song. she remembered grace’s struggle to find a co-singer for her song, knowing that amara’s reputation had not been the best. and yet, she had one afternoon received ariana’s call, asking if she still needed a person and that she would be happy to feature on it. even though she had been shocked at the sudden call, a part of her suspected that kylian somehow had wriggled his way in. especially because the next day, she had gotten a long call from grace, telling her to keep kylian and all of sudden, she found kylian’s name in ariana’s followern (but she would never admit that she was stalking him sometimes).

in my head though was a complete different story. in all her career she had never doubted a song like this, never gotten anxious over it. perhaps, all the bad memories that were connected with every verse she wrote, brought it all back up again. or she still feared the failure she would maybe receive because everyone still held her for a bitch after evan’s interview. either way, the process of “in my head” was not one she would like to recreate.

but kylian had been there for her. every line that had brought her down, he had been there (whether live or onscreen) to cheer her up, to remind her that those times were over and she would never have to endure things like that again. maybe, he couldn’t promise her that she would never experience pain again but he had made the promise to himself that she would never ever find herself in the position, capable of writing a song like in my head. he had listened to her when she complained why it felt so hard for her to write, why she couldn’t find the words to describe what had happened. amara’s goal had been for in my head to be last song she would ever write about Evan again. the final page of the evan chapter before she would finally (and specifically for the press) move on from him.

she’d probably never admit it but all the shade thrown at evan felt good. two different people and yet the same intentions. he went on tv to throw her under the bus, she wrote songs about him, giving people the own right to analyse how much of an asshole he actually was. especially because there so many different interpretations of it but all had one common point — evan henderson was an asshole.

the good thing though was that, now that she finished with evan, she could finally focus on kylian. show him truly how much she loved him. he was her only thought now.

even when she celebrated her success, her thoughts were still on kylian. the air was filled with excitement as they celebrated the immense success of amara’s latest songs. both had claimed the charts rapidly, breaking records by being listened to over a billion times already. it brought a smile to her face, illuminating and radiant at the fact that she found her passion for music again, the sparkle that had been lit again.

it wasn’t exactly the tidiest space, with all the note sheets and song papers thrown around but they still found some space to put a bottle of wine to celebrate. she served herself another glass, still feeling the euphoria of her success and what better way to celebrate it, than with alcohol?

“so now you’re drinking without me?” someone whispered in her ear, making amara jump up out of shock as she hadn’t even seen anyone enter the place, except herself, grace and hudson. she hadn’t even gotten time to think about who it was when her eyes were suddenly covered by a pair of big hands but she recognized immediately who it was. only one person had that smell. “guess who it is?”

“let me guess, neymar?”

he chuckled mischievously, his breath warm against her ear. “essaie encore.” — try again

she pretended to think for a moment, biting her lip to add to her expression. “oh my god, it’s erling haaland. i feel so honored.”

the light nudge he gave her, made a laugh escape from her lips as she continued to play with kylian’s nerves. “last try,” the french striker warned.

“fine, fine, i know it’s you ky,” she replied, removing his hands from her eyes and turning around as she looked into his eyes.

he grinned at her, clutching his chest dramatically. “nice to know you didn’t forget me,” he replied, grinning widely at her. he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. “congratulations for the two songs. i’ve been playing them on repeat.”

“merci beaucoup,” she exclaimed, deepening their hug as she hid in his neck. “i can’t believe you’re here.” she mumbled under her breath, inhaling the so-familiar scent of his.

“i was invited as special guest,” he pointed at grace, who sent a sly look towards the couple before turning away again and continuing her conversation with hudson. “apparently i lift certain people’s motivation.”

she glanced at grace who sent her a smirk in return. how she had managed to get kylian’s number and even get him here was beyond her imagination but she was glad to have him here. to introduce him to her world.

“if you tell anyone i agreed to this, i’ll deny it.” she threatened jokingly, grinning at him.

he waved dismissively. “don’t worry, your reputation’s save with me.”

“you know, this is as much my celebration party as it’s yours. i don’t know how you did it but thank u, next wouldn’t have existed without you.” she thanked him, wanting to pass him a glass of wine but remembering at the same time that he couldn’t drink mid-season. “je te remercie tellement pour ça. pour sauver ma carrière. i owe you, whatever you want.” — i am so thankful to you for this, for saving my career

their hands sneakily intertwined, making sure to not be seen by grace or hudson. they didn’t want for the others to know about them so soon, preferring to enjoy their honeymoon phase for bit longer. “well, there’s something i wanted to ask you.”

“i’m all ear,” the singer retorted, looking at him expectantly.

he cleared his throat, letting go of amara’s hand to draw circles on it with his thumb while leaning closer. “you think you’re ready to make your first appearance as my nr. 1 die-hard fan with your presence at my game on saturday?” he asked her, his voice soft and tender with a sarcastic undertone. “parce que j’aimerais bien que tu sois là samedi.” — because i would love it if you were there saturday.

he was expecting a rejection, already having prepared for it. but he hadn’t really measured the way her comeback would change her. amara was done with hiding from the public and bad press. she had long enough play their game, where they could silence her with one bad article. and she was excited to see kylian play live.

“i’ll be there don’t worry,” she replied nonchalantly, accepting his request. “but you’ll have to score. i’m not leaving my couch for just anybody.”

he arched an eyebrow, skeptic expression on his face visible. “so now i’m just anybody?” he asked her incredulously. “wow, i see how it is.”

she rolled her eyes at his antics but wasn’t able to hide the way she enjoyed his dramatic act. “kylian!” she exclaimed, lightly nudging him.

“ça va, j’ai compris,” he held his hand up in surrender. “donc, combien des buts veux-tu, ma belle?” — okay, i understood. so, how many goals do you want, beautiful?

“two,” she stated firmly after thinking for some time. “i want a double.”

he laughed. “two goals it is.” he repeated, brushing some, hair out of her face. truthfully there wasn’t any hair in her face but he loved the feeling of touching her. there was a sense of longing for her, to be near her and feel her close to him. to touch her every time. “and what will i get if i do?”

she shrugged, her face implying everything. “how many kisses do you want?”

he pretended to think for a moment, even putting a hand on his chin before replying, “for a lifetime.”

“a lifetime?”

he nodded. “a lifetime.” he repeated proudly, “nous deux c’est pour l’éternité.” — we two are forever

“so you thought this far already?”

“all i know is that i’ll never let you go. and if you do, then i must have done something stupid.”

a new sense of comfort spread through her body listening to him. butterflies were an understatement for what she was feeling in her stomach. the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their own little world as they stared into each other’s eyes with their hearts beating in unison.

their kind of love, so innocent and untypical — it was based on more than just love. because sometimes even love was not enough. what actually strengthened their bond was the blind trust they held for each other, she had let herself fall from the clip she was grasping on with her entire strength and he had caught her. made sure she landed safely before taking her own way again. and he had come to terms with the possibility of maybe not playing an as big role in her life as she was playing in his. (luckily that had turned out different) — he was somehow willing to do everything for her.

but just as they see about to lose themselves completely in their souls, grace interrupted them, nudging the couple slightly. “as cute as this is between you, we still need to record some songs,” she said, directing the last part of her sentence to amara before pointing at kylian. “and you, i didn’t bring you here to distract my workers from working.”

“worker? you’re my manager.” amara retorted amusingly, grin quickly disappearing when grace sent her a cold glance. “i’m coming.”

“can i listen to it?” kylian asked, throwing his question in the middle of their conversation.

she shook her head, the mischievous twinkle practically sparking. “i’ll let you hear it soon. it’s a surprise.” she replied, assuring him as her voice brimmed with sincerity.

he nodded, though he couldn’t completely hide his disappointment. they exchanged a quick, longing glance before reluctantly parting, painfully aware that their obligations called them back to reality. “i’ll wait for you here,” he told her softly, instantly summoning a smile on her lips. that smile intensified when he took amara’s face in his hands (a gesture she had gotten used to) and planted a soft yet passionate peck on her lips — right in front of an unsuspecting grace.

any sense of seriousness and productivity left her body as she watched her best friend kiss the french striker, jaw nearly dropping in disbelief. but she was doing a great job at hiding it and acting as if whatever just happened in front of her was normal.

when everyone had gone back to work, grace seized her chance during a small lunchtime break. hudson had engaged into a very lively conversation with the french striker, not being able to contain his football-love anymore, bombarding kylian with question. this gave grace the possibility to drag amara away and do her own questioning relating to what had just happened between her and her beau.

without any forewarning, grace dragged amara to the back of the studio, her mind racing as she tried to piece the puzzle of the revelation in front of her together.

“what the hell did i just see?” she exclaimed excitedly. “a peck — a real relationship peck! when did this happen?”

her face was covered with a sheepish smile as she shrugged. “we’re dating now. we moved forward and things happened and now we’re dating.”

“that’s all you’ve got to say? we had thousands of phone calls and not even once did you mention this.” grace retorted loudly, staring incredulous at her best friend.

“honestly, it's a relatively new relationship, and i didn't want to make a big deal out of it. enjoy the small bliss.”

“wait till liyah hears that.” she furiously took out her phone, dialing liyah’s number and calling the latter by facetime. amara groaned, already seeing the kind of embarrassment she would get from liyah, especially because from the trio, she was the most livid when it came to exciting news.

to amara’s small dismay, liyah instantly took the call. “gracey, surprised you’re calling.” she greeted the pr-manager, loud noises in the back indicating that liyah must have been at the grand prix that was taking place on sunday.

grace grinned as they saw liyah all dressed in red-attire, probably to support her boyfriend. “liyah! thank god you took the call! i have news!”

“spill the tea!” liyah replied excitedly, matching grace’s enthusiasm.

“amara and kylian are dating. like fully dating! she’s off the market.”

liyah’s eyes widened at the new revelation, immediately turning to amara, who hid her face behind her hands. “what do you mean, they’re dating? you and kylian made a step forward? that final step we were all waiting for?”

before amara could reply, grace had already cut in. “and she probably wouldn’t have told us if i hadn’t invited kylian for today. this little bitch,” she pointed at amara, “would have probably waited a week before telling us that she and kylian even talked about making the next step.”

“how could you amara? i spent five days in paris with you and not even once did you mention that something happened!” liyah scolded her, voice getting louder to overcome the noises from the garage. “now spill everything. and i mean everything. every little detail.”

slightly panicking, she sighed. “well, he was over. he had planned on coming directly after they had come back to paris from their away match but i convinced him to come later because my mom was over—“

“mama imani was over?”

“she visited to check up on me and all that stuff,” amara explained, shrugging dismissively. “anyway, we talked about us and then there was a kiss…,” she confessed sheepishly, shyly turning away as her friends’ smiles got wider. “and then we decided to move forward. especially because the line of friendship was crossed a long time ago. oh… and the flowers he got me that day because they reminded him of him also were a factor that played into my decision.”

grace and amara covered their ears when liyah let out a loud scream, managing to even drown out the noises around her. “omg! how could you keep this from us? wait till i’m over again.”

“how long have you been in this new phase? i gotta know how long you’ve kept this up from us.” grace inquired, scrutinizing amara closely.

again, amara thanked the gods that she couldn’t blush. “well, it’s been two weeks now and like i said, we’re just looking where all this is leading to.”

“and now the real details?” liyah demanded, “did you only kiss or did more happen?” she asked, her tone becoming slightly suggestive.

“well, if you’re so curious. no we haven’t had sex yet. but we made out. a lot.” she admitted, hiding her face as liyah let out a scream.

“omg, this just made my day.”

grace smirked. “he’s also the reason why thank u, next exists. he’s the one who got in contact with ariana grande.”

another scream pierced through the phone, this time louder as liyah failed to contain her happiness.

“mon coeur, tu vas bien?” they suddenly heard in the background, and liyah turned to face the person calling after her. “i heard you screaming on the phone, even carlos was worried for a moment and andrea sent me to check on you.”

they watched liyah laugh, before peck the man’s lips, who they assumed was charles softly. “don’t worry babe. just excited because of some news i just got. wait, i just remembered that you haven’t even met the two most important persons in my life.” holding up a finger to indicate that he had to wait for a minute, she grabbed her phone, putting it in front of them, making charles appear on the screen. “meet my soul sisters, grace and amara, who is finally off the market.”

amara buried her face in her head out of embarrassment, listening to liyah introduce them. “she’s also the third person in our secret marriage with lewis.”

“third person?” she questioned, forgetting all embarrassment and arching an eyebrow. “now i’m offended.

charles laughed as they started to bicker around, his dimples reminding amara of kylian’s. “it’s very nice to meet you. she talks a lot about you. sometimes i feel like you’re dating her and not me.”

liyah rolled her eyes. “as if that isn’t the same with you and pierre.” she turned back to face her friends. “it’s literally me, my boyfriend and my boyfriend’s boyfriend.”

“if this is because pierre tagged along on our date once, i already apologized.” he groaned, turning his attention back to amara. “i’m a big fan of your music. especially your new song, ‘thank u, next’. a fave of mine.”

“thank you so much. i am also a big fan of your driving, especially your victory in austria. but i still prefer lewis.” she added jokingly.

he grinned too, taking no offense to her remark. “fair enough. athough now i can brag to the others that i met you. especially lando and carlos. they’re die-hard fans.”

“greet them for me. make their day.” amara’s smile radiated through the phone, her happiness clear on her face. “also do we need to do the threatening-thing, where we tell him how we can kill him in fifty-seven different ways or should we just skip it and talk about what dating you includes? because i actually like you, charles.”

the couple laughed, charles sneakily putting an arm around his girlfriend to bring her closer. liyah waved dismissively. “girls, don’t worry. you forget i’m the baddest bitch out of the three of us so i’ll know what to do if he ever steps out of lane. and honestly, after having been in a relationship with james, it’s not really hard to top that.”

still, they mustered him, scrutinizing him very closely though they were satisfied by him. just the way he held and looked at liyah was enough to prove that he really loved her.

it also didn’t hurt, that charles was happily ready to accept all of the conditions, amara and grace laid down for him.

he accepted the monthly girls’ nights and didn’t mind the three am calls between the girls as they all were sometimes in different timezones.

neither was he against weekly date nights, no matter whether it was a night in or night out and accepted quickly the rule to never leave the other on read.

grace and amara would lie if they said that they didn’t have fun, analysing charles and having him agree to every of their rule. and the ferrari driver would probably never admit, but he liked seeing her have such good and caring friends. even though he had already forgotten half the things he had agreed to.

listening to them, liyah suddenly understood what her friends were doing. they were making sure she finally got to have the perfect relationship with charles that she had been wishing for during her time with james. the dating nights, no fighting because she spent too much time with her friends, no jealousy crises — they were making sure she was finally living the bliss, she was supposed to live during a relationship.

hanging up once they had finished with their conversation, the two women walked back to the men again, who had longly finished their conversation and had taken on to talk about god and the world as they waited for the girls to finish their conversation.

“so, did you talk to your biggest fan?” amara asked kylian, leaning her head on his shoulder as hudson arranged everything so they could continue recording.

“fallais me dire qu’il était fan de manchester city.” kylian let out, grumbling a bit. “i am still a bit sore over that defeat.” — you should have told me he was manchester city fan

she grinned. “he’s a football fan. i thought that would be all you cared about.”

he rolled his eyes, smile still not leaving his lips. he sat down on the black revolving chair, taking a few spins. this time it was amara’s turn to roll her eyes. especially because she wasn’t finished and this was her place.

“kylian, you’re sitting in my chair,” she complained, groaning slightly. “please sit somewhere else.”

“mais celui-ci est plus confortable,” he replied, spinning around again to purposely miss the pout amara gave him. — but this one is more comfortable

“please,” she begged him again. “there are hundred different chairs here, just take one of these.”

“how about you take one of those,” he retorted before continuing to spin around, annoying amara even more. she let out an ‘uf’, groaning as she turned to make her way to the other chairs. “or you could just sit down on my lap.” he proposed slyly, smirking at her just as she was about to grab a chair.

she arched an eyebrow, weighing her options in her head. crossing her arms, amara sighed as she rolled her eyes and gave in, sitting down on kylian’s lap.

her body grew a bit tense, uncomfortable as she had never sat in someone’s lap before and somehow he sensed it. his arms wrapped sneakily around her waist, pulling her closer to his chest.

amara turned, smiling at him as kylian buried his head into her neck, his warm breath sending tingles down her body. his hands drew soft circles into her skin, tracing her body and every of her small defaults. the ones he had grown to love for her.

the new-found pair was so lost in each other, their flowing conversation distracting them from their surroundings thag they failed to notice the pr-manager take out her phone and capture this moment of love. smiling to herself, grace put her phone back after uploading the picture of the two to her story.

“after everything that happened,” hudson remarked, appearing next to grace as they watched the couple laugh together, only god knowing what they could talk about, “she definitely deserves this. someone who will love her the way he does.”

even though she had already been many times in his apartment, this time it felt different. perhaps because this time she wouldn’t be entering it as amara imani, the singer who had just had the worst year of her life. instead she was going into this apartment as amara, the girl dating him now. there wouldn’t be reasons anymore as to why she was there, she didn’t need any reasons anymore to be there.

the living room was tastefully decorated, lots of pictures showcasing his victories and achievements. she remembered her first time over, when she had been over here and the picture of their win from the lighe 1 had taken all her attention. the picture that had made her feel attired to kylian, with that certain twinkle in his eyes. while her eyes travelled around the room, he had quickly gone to his room, wanting to change into more comfortable clothes before spending the evening with her.

as she perused the shelves, her fingers wandering over the different book shelves, she noticed his music collection consisting of a long tower of cds piled up. needless to say, she was impresssed by his huge music collection and the way it varied from classical to contemporary. now it made sense why he had known so many old school and 80s hits . but what especially caught her eye was the dusty jazz cd, hidden away between a cd of whitney houston’s best hits and a 2000 party hits cd that instantly caught her interest. like they always said, curiosity killed the cat and amara couldn’t resist the temptation to play it.

confusion was clear on kylian’s face when he entered the living room, soft jazz tunes sounding out of the speakers. he arched an eyebrow as he joined her, placing himself next to her.

“do i even want to know why jazz is playing at the moment?” he questioned, amused that he was already so used to amara’s impulsive thoughts and ideas.

“nope,” she replied, shaking her head while a grin appeared on her lips. “but you need to dance with me. mayhe i’ll tell you then.” she replied mischievously, putting her hands around his neck.

he sighed but complied nonetheless and placed his hands on her hips before sliding them upwards for them to rest on her waist. “i have no idea how to dance to jazz,” he admitted, feelings heat in his cheeks even though there was no blush.

“me neither honestly.” she confessed, but shrugged happily. “but i don’t care. let’s just give it a try.”

the pair tried to keep with the slow rythm of the music but both realized quickly that jazz was not their music. they swayed and spun around, trying to dance the steps they had seen in music but the more they tried, the more awkward it became as they never managed to stay in the beat.

as kylian extended his arm and spun her around, amara tripped over his foot trying to match the rythm, resulting in both falling to the ground and landing softly on the carpet. one look was all they shared before they began to laugh. “we suck at this, don’t we?” kylian grinned, a sparkle in his eyes.

“yeah,” amara giggled, sitting up. “we should stop before someone mistakes us for actual dancers.”

the two let the jazz music play in the background, still fond of the memories with them failing to dance. while kylian got comfortable on the couch, taking over the whole sofa by extending his feet, amara preferred to stay on the fluffy carpet, songbook in her hands along with a pen.

“so… why were you so keen on dancing to jazz? i’m not judging but why, of all music genres did you take jazz?”

“i listened to the two of us and i just wanted to truly feel the song.” she replied sheepishly. “but as we all saw, it’s not really ours. i think we’re made to listen to it.”

he laughed at her but at the same time couldn’t stop himself from falling even more in love with her. she was truly the sunshine he had imagined her to be, the happy bubble she had once been. evan had only put a small black cloud on her head but once she had finally gained her self-trust and confidence back, the black cloud also disappeared and her sun shined through

“well, would you be so kind as to put on some serious music now?”

“only if i get to choose,” she commented, her face brightening up at kylian’s short nod. she quickly crawled to the music box, connecting her phone before she took back her place, getting truly comfortable now.

after their comical attempt at dancing jazz, they were ready to try out something new, listen to their own music. amara realized that music had become their own proper love language. while other couples communicated through affection, touch or soft words, their language was music. a language no one but them spoke.

she was used to express her feelings via verses and music but they had never spoken to someone. but with him, suddenly every song had an answer, a reply to it. they felt closer to each other when they listened to music and shared their feelings through soft melodies. a perfect duett.

as she scribbled through her notebook, going over the two songs that were next to record, kylian propped himself on one elbow to get a better view of her, watching her work. before her, he used to think songs were easy, they were just a few words that had to rhyme but after meeting her he had finally seen the process that went into it — was finally able to measure the worth of their work.

the first tunes of “style” filled the room, taylor swift’s song immediately lighting her face up with joy. she hadn’t even noticed that she had continued to sing along while working on her own lyrics — that much she loved the song. she wanted to ask kylian to sing along with her, dance with her to it but a certain sense of comfort prevented her from doing so. they were comfortable, at home in this position. she wouldn’t want to destroy it and kylian could always have another dance party with her.

the latter watched her intently, totally mesmerized and enchanted by her singing and her voice. each second that passed, he fell more in love with her, with the way she was just so natural. her talent and her passion were just two things of a long list that kylian loved about her. another thing was the way she was able to take another artist’s song and add her own note to it, her own touch. just the sight of her, fully in her element and singing to the song, fueled the fire in kylian’s heart that burned for her. somehow even the smallest moments like that deepened their connection.

amara would only know later how lucky she had gotten with kylian. someone who loved her because she was so passionate and talented and not just for her looks and reputation. he admired her creativity, her dedication and the way she always wanted to give her fans the 100% of herself that she deserved. she was the only one able to make him feel things he didn’t even know he could feel. he would follow her everywhere around if she asked him — kylian was completely enamored with her and probably loved her more than she did him.

even though she was deeply focused on her writing, she could still feel his gaze on her. the affection he gave her still made goosebumps spread through her entire body but here, she found comfort in it with him playing with some of her loose curls. it helped her concentrate. she turned, sending him a warm smile before turning around and setting her eyes on the paper in front of her again. it felt nice to have someone like kylian support her.

the song had longly ended and she had drowned out her surroundings to better focus on her work. it came easy to her with kylian’s support and encouragement along with the endearing smile he sent her. his gaze was comforting, calming.

“did i tell you about my coming collaboration with…” she broke the silence, trailing off. “i get to do a song with beyoncé.” she exclaimed happily.

“what?” his eyes widened in surprised before his perplexed expression turned into a happy one.

“yes. you know how she was my mentor and brought me into this business and now i actually get to do a song with her. that’s why i need this,” she pointed at the lyrics, “to be perfect. especially because she will be going over it and add her own lyrics for her part.”

“that’s incredible,” he gushed excitingly. “and believe me, your work is phenomenal. just what i got to see today was enough for me to know that you’re the most talented one.”

“well, i’m no beyoncé.” she mumbled shyly. “i just want this to work.”

“and it will mara. i’ll gladly call her if she doesn’t like it.” he advised, proudly smiling at her.

amara rolled her eyes. “get off your high horse. tu crois que tu es qui par rapport a beyoncé pour l’appeler?“ — who do you think you are in relation to beyoncé?

she laughed at his offended expression and continued to work on her song. she was immediately immersed in her songwriting again, adamant on making sure to give her idol her 100%. there was no way she’d disappoint the queen b.

while she wrote and erased words, kylian couldn’t help but be completely captivated by her focused expression. and to him in that moment, she was the most beautiful person ever. he had always thought that she was the most beautiful when she was laughing but he had seen another side of her — her passionate one. where she gave everything to make sure her words were perfect and made sense. and it made her even prettier than she already was.

he couldn’t even stop himself from taking out his phone and discreetly starting to take pictures of her without her noticing. he wasn’t very often a fan of taking pictures when the two were together but here, he knew he had to preserve this memory, this state of her.

after a few moments she started to sense something though. kylian was abnormally silent and calm for his usual state. she turned around, making kylian jump up at her sudden movement and a playful smirk build on her lips.

“you’re taking pictures of me again, aren’t you?” she asked, putting her book on the floor.

he chuckled, unable to hide his smile and pulled out her phone again to show her the endless pictures he had taken off her. before she realized, he started to take pictures of her again, making her groan.

“ky, please stop this.” she demanded, self-conscious taking over.

“never. i’ve never seen you so focused before, i had to capture this moment.” he just replied, laughing gently as he took another one.

“ky. at least delete it if i look bad in any of them.” she insisted, half-jokingly.

he shook his head, still amused by her slight discomfort. “ma belle, trust me, you look good in every lightening to me.” he replied sincerely, looking at her with so much love her heart filled with warmth

“why are you even taking them?” she questioned the french striker, putting down her book for final. she knew she wouldn’t get anymore work done today.

he shrugged nonchalantly. “i needed a new wallpaper. and why not take the person i like most.”

“fine,” she bit her lip to prevent herself from smiling but it was useless — a huge smile plastered on her face, reaching from one ear to the other as she let him take pictures of him for the rest of the night with small fights sometimes escalating as they thought over the phone. and still, she wouldn’t trade this evening for anything.

with an oversized shirt she had borrowed from kylian (which he knew he would never get back), amara found herself in the bathroom next to kylian as they brushed their teeth. she hadn’t really planned on staying over for the night but time had other plans, passing so quickly neither of the two had realized how late it had gotten. before they knew it, it was already too late for amara to go home (or more like, Kylian didn’t trust her to be alone at this hour in paris).

standing in front of the mirror, the two brushed their teeth, amused grins displayed on their face as they stared at each other through the glass. after spitting out the remainder of the toothpaste that stuck in her mouth, she washed her toothbrush and reached for her toiletries bag.

wanting to give her more place as he knew what she was about to do, the french international player placed his brush back into the small cup and took a few steps back to sit down on the border of the bathtub. he watched with amazement and an innocent kind of love and endearment as she gracefully washed her face before starting to apply various creams to it. with the soft bathroom light reflecting in his eyes, he smiled at her as his eyes glanced over her natural state. it felt like home.

amara glanced back at him through the mirror as she caught him staring at her, probably daydreaming with the way his eyes were locked on her. smiling, she turned to him, face creme still on her fingers. “do you want me to give you a skincare routine too? just asking with the way you’re staring at me. believe me, i’d be doing you a favor.”

he looked at her confusingly, chuckling as he shook his head. “don’t worry about me, i’m fine as i am.”

she walked towards him, squinting her eyes to scrutinize his skin. “your skin looks horrible,” she stated shockingly. “how come i’ve never noticed with how often we made out?”

kylian laughed at the way she seemed so upset, smirking as he responded, “guess that means im doing my job right.”

she rolled her eyes at her retort, exhaling loudly. “non, mais kylian sérieusement. i don’t want to kiss your face if it’s all scratchy and full of dead skin you probably didn’t really wash off.” — no but seriously kylian

he let out a small groan, realizing what that probably meant. “i take good care of my skin, don’t worry.” he replied but he hadn’t reckoned with amara’s persistence.

with a mischievous glint apparent in her eyes, she grabbed one of her moisturizing creams and moved slowly towards him. “i am so sorry but you left me no other choice.”

every step that she took towards him, he took one back, trying to get away from his as she neared him with an evil grin. “amara, really, it’s not necessary.” but she didn’t give up, ready to put some cream on his skin.

in the span of a second, he took off, trying to hide from her as she began to pursue him. the pair found themselves in a playful fight, both laughing as she tried to dab a bit of her moisturizing cream onto his cheeks.

he was successful in dodging every of her attempts but he hadn’t expected her to be so determined on it as she did not show any signs of abandonment or giving up.

“you’d make me so happy if you took good care of your skin.” she pouted, hoping to make him crack which worked. looking at her one last time, kylian finally gave in. but while amara thought it was because she finally wore him down, he had other reasons. and the biggest one was seeing her smile grow wider because she thought she had won. he’d do everything to see her smile.

“but don’t put on too much,” kylian instructed, “and just the cream. no serums or whatever you have in that bag.”

her face lit up with delight, nodding quickly as she made him sit down on the border of the bathtub again and gently applied the white cream to his cheeks. without even noticing, he closed his eyes as a sense of tenderness and softness washed over him. he’d never admit it but it felt good as she brushed her fingers softly over his face.

“and finished,” amara cheered, closing the cream, “now your skin is happy and smells amazing.” she leaned in, placing a soft peck on his cheek, her lips lingering for a little longer on his face.

he pulled her down next to him, his arm wrapping around her figure immediately. she laid her head down on his shoulder, playing loosely with the strings of his hoodie. “ready for bed now and some cuddles?”

“lead the way.” she replied quietly, intertwining their hands.

they exited the bathroom, heading directly for the bedroom to lay down. Kylian had been unsure whether amara wanted to sleep in the guest room or with him but his worries quickly vanished when they reached his bedroom and she laid down on the bed, hitting the free place next to her to signal for him to join her.

his cheeks were probably already hurting from all the smiling today and yet he couldn’t get himself to stop. laying next to her felt like a dream, the ones that felt so real that one often wondered whether it was really a dream. the soft scent of cherry and vanilla crawled up his nose as he buried his head in her neck, his arm pulling her closer to his chest.

it didn’t take long for them to fall asleep or at least enter the dazed state of sleep. nights that amara had spent, staring at the ceiling hoping to fall asleep seemed like a distant memory now that she had kylian. the sense of belonging he spread made it easy for her to fall asleep — because now she could let herself fall freely without worrying. except the butterflies in her stomach, she didn’t really feel anything that made her want to worry. and sleeping belonged to that.

“kylian, are you still awake,” she asked into the silence, hoping that kylian wasn’t asleep already, she nudged him lightly, happy when she felt him turn towards her. “tu te rappelles quand je t’avais promis une chanson?” — remember when i promised you a song?

“hm…,” he replied sleepily, “yes, that by the way i’m still waiting for.”

she stared up at him, waiting till his eyes were fully open and focused on her. taking a deep breath, she snuggled closer into his chest. “well, i wrote you an entire album.”

𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢

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amara.imani mon amour, je t’aime — the album, COMING SOON

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