Mike Faist Fluff - Tumblr Posts

teehee i feel so special 🥰

i'm no longer withholding writing a cute fluff piece based on this post i made a half hour ago, nor am i withholding writing mike pieces any longer because we all deserve it, whether we believe so or not. anyway, darling @ysuftmikey this is for you. and this would take place when he gets back to the hotel after this

May 16, 2024 Cannes, France

“It’s going to be nice,” you remark, tracing your finger over the rim of your wine glass. “I know you need it.” You push back against the headboard to extend your legs outward, watching the man in front of you begin to unbutton his dress shirt. “Just relax, do nothing. Day drink.” You pause as you watch him shrug off his shirt and lay it over the edge of the bed. “Fuck.”

He bites the inside of his cheek to stifle a smile, but you see his eyebrow raise at the word. “Is that all you have on our agenda?”

“What more could you want?”

“We could do that at home.” The sound of the metal of his belt reverberates against the walls, and you watch from your placement on the bed as his eyes stare directly into yours.

“Yeah, but not with a view of the French Riviera…”

“Can always close our eyes and imagine.”

“It’s not the same, babe.” You lift your glass to your lips to take a sip. He’s already slipped out of his dress pants and laid them neatly over the armrest of the chaise lounge. “How about I run us a bath?”

You watch as he methodically climbs over your limbs, almost tragically laying on your claw clip, before he relaxes his body between your legs, his head resting on your stomach. “Let’s just lay here for a bit…please.”

You can feel his hand rubbing circles on the exposed side on your waist, and his breath slow and drown out, close to sleep. You run your fingers through his hair, pushing little pieces out from his forehead, before finally resting on his cheek.

“I’m proud of you, you know? I’m excited for tomorrow.”

You feel his breath hitch in his throat, and he lightly adjusts his position above you. “Nervous… Hate speeches.”

“Don’t think too much about it. We can write something for you – at least have something to go off of.”

“I’m glad you’ll be there. Wouldn’t be able to handle it if you weren’t.” You can’t see his expression, but you can feel he’s softened. The creases between his brows having mellowed. “I love you.”

“I love you too…” You can feel him tracing invisible patterns on your exposed skin. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything. I don’t care what’s going on… I’d drop anything for you.” He gently moves, and you feel him place a singular kiss on your stomach, nuzzling his nose deeper up your chest. “You deserve a holiday. You’ve worked hard this year, and I know you didn’t want to do the press tour, but it’s over. The worst is over. Just need to get through this weekend.”

He finally lifts his head up, his eyes piercing blue, save for that splash of brown. “Still want that bath?”

You smirk, reaching over to set your wine glass down on your bedside table without jostling your partner too much. He pushes himself from the bed, still laying between your legs. “I got bath salts, rose petals, candles… The whole nine yards.”

“Are you trying to seduce me?” He quips, roaming a single finger up and down your thigh.

“I mean…yeah. Duh.” You give him a look that says, “I wouldn’t be doing all of this for nothing.”

“We can skip all of that…save the middle man and just skip—”

“Michael, I fucking swear… Let me be romantic.”

“You’re always romantic.” He’s leaning forward, his chest stark with yours. You feel his lips begin to craze light pecks across your jaw, and down your neck.

“And you best believe it.”