#beats pour moi

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (8/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: It's always nice meeting new people. Especially British ones.

Warnings: fluff, flirting, one swear word, social media aspect

Word Count: 3.3k

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A/N: this chapter is for everyone who send me kind words when I was feeling down. even tho I don't answer every single message, I read everything you send me. I love you.

You look desperately at the piece of paper in your hand. 

You have the chicken breast, the avocado and the kale and garlic. According to the signs in the shop, two aisles down are the jars of sun-dried tomatoes that you also need. But where the heck are the sesame seeds and chilli flakes?

You rub your forehead with the back of your hand. 

For twenty minutes you have been walking through the supermarket, which is so much bigger than the one around the corner from you. Ten minutes ago you put the chicken in the shopping basket, which is hanging down on your elbow. And since then you have been wandering the aisles with little success, trying to find the rest that Charles scribbled on the piece of paper. 

When you left the bedroom this morning, your roommate had already disappeared. He had stowed his sleeping things in the wardrobe and tidied up the living room. Even the dishes had disappeared from the sink. Apparently he got up very early. 

After drinking a glass of orange juice, you found the note on the kitchen table that Charles had left there. 

"Bonjour, 

Je suis à la salle de sport ce matin. I'm at the gym this morning.

Pourriez-vous acheter ces choses pour le déjeuner ? Could you please buy these things for lunch?

Merci, mon ami. 

Charles

PS.: Mes amis et moi sortons ce soir et j'aimerais que tu viennes avec moi. My friends and I are going out tonight and I would like you to come along".

Next to it was another piece of paper with the shopping list for the bowl his nutritionist had picked out for him. Judging by the ingredients, Charles has good taste and for a moment you had considered buying a double portion - one for him and one for you - but the toast lying in your kitchen is about to go bad and you are reluctant to throw it away. Besides, no food in the world can beat a good sandwich.

But reading the list, you also realise that the small supermarket around the corner would not be enough to get everything.

The employee you asked a few minutes ago gave you a rough direction where you could find the sesame seeds, but he disappeared so quickly that you couldn't follow up. And since then you've been standing in a corridor that looks like you might find them here. But you've read through every label on every shelf, and although your French has improved - and you have a translator app on your phone - none of them sounded remotely like sesame or seeds.

"A pretty lady wasn't on my shopping list today, but I can be spontaneous," you hear someone with a British accent say behind you.

As you turn around, a young man is standing in front of you. He is a little taller than you and wears a black hoodie with his hands in his pockets and a black cap on his head. Although it is winter, his skin is tanned, and as he grins broadly, you see a small gap between his white front teeth.

You hesitate for a moment, trying to gauge whether he is really serious, and glance briefly at your shopping list before turning to face him fully. "An overeager man is not on mine either. And unfortunately, since I have to stick to my budget, I can't be quite as spontaneous."

His grin widens even more. "So the pick-up line was that lousy?"

His smile is so honest and friendly it's infectious. "Terrible."

The young man presses his tongue into his cheek before pulling his hand out of his jumper pocket to hold it out to you. "Lando. Nice to meet you."

As you place your hand in his, you feel the warmth of his skin. "Y/N."

Before you can respond, Lando snatches the piece of paper in your hand. His eyes flicker over the ingredients on it and then over the contents of your shopping basket. "You've been standing here for ten minutes. Do you need any help?"

You narrow your eyes and try to reach for the list in his big hands, but he is quicker. He pulls his hand away. "Have you been watching me? See if the note says stalker."

He pretends to go through the ingredients again, but his gaze lingers on you again after a few moments. "Stalker it doesn't say, but helpful stranger it does." He holds the note up to your nose. "Right under chicken breast. See. Right there. In invisible ink."

You push your lower lip forward and consider whether you should accept his help. The only thing against it is the fact that you can usually help yourself. But since he has already noticed how helplessly you search for the missing groceries, the argument is not exactly convincing.

"Alright." You extend your arm and wave it in a semicircle in front of you. "Show me the way."

Lando leads the way as you follow him through the shop. Despite his jumper, you can see that his cross is relatively wide. Not as wide as Charles, but still enough to be noticeable. 

"You don't seem to be from around here, do you?" asks Lando as you walk past the cheese shelf. He looks down at you. 

"I've actually lived here for months, but I've never been to this supermarket," you admit, shrugging. "The stuff on the list isn't for me, it's for my roommate. I'm not much of a bowl fan."

The helpful stranger stops abruptly in front of a shelf, causing you to bump lightly into him. You can still feel the hard muscles through the many layers of clothing. "What are you more into?" When you look at him with a raised eyebrow, he rolls his eyes. "Food-wise, I mean."

"Culinarily, I'm afraid I've stayed at McDonalds level. Or frozen pizza." As Lando grins, you lightly punch his arm. "I know, I know. Like a kid."

He reaches out and takes a packet from the shelf, and as he puts it in the basket, you see that it's sesame seeds. He then takes the basket from your hand. "So I don't need to take you to a super fancy, expensive restaurant? You'd be happy with take-out as well?" He tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. 

Apparently he can't help it. But you find his boyish charm not annoying, rather amusing. 

You raise your hand and poke your index finger against his chest. "You could buy me a can of soup, too, and I'd be blown away."

Lando is too surprised to retort, so he lowers his eyes to the list in his hand. You can still see the blush that comes to his face. He clears his throat. "Chilli flakes should be here somewhere too. Ah, there. Right behind you." He leans forward a little and reaches past you. As you inhale, you can smell his perfume.

"Thanks for your help, Lando," you say as you stand together at the checkout a little later, putting your purchase into a bag. "I don't know what I would have done without you." Your smile is genuine and you're glad he returns it. If it hadn't been for him, you'd almost certainly still be standing here tomorrow looking for the ingredients.

"I'm glad I could help." As you take your groceries from him, he shoulders the bag and shakes his head. "Would it be weird if I asked you if I could walk you home?"

"It would." You've both known each other for a few minutes and for sure it's unwise for a young stranger to find out where you live. Yet something about him makes you trust him. As Lando's mouth curls into a thin line, you smile kindly at him. "But weird is okay."

His expression brightens instantly. "Great. Show me the way. I'll follow you."

The walk home takes thirty minutes, but it feels much shorter with Lando by your side. He's two years older than you and incredibly funny, which is why your stomach starts to hurt from laughing at some point. He talks about what it was like growing up in England and that although he has his permanent home here in Monaco, he still works there. 

"So you're always flying back and forth? Isn't that very tiring?" you ask him. The house where your home is located comes into your field of vision. In a moment you are about to say goodbye and somehow you have a feeling that he would make an attempt to ask for your number. 

"It's very exhausting," he confesses, but shrugs. "But you know yourself what it's like to live here. Monaco is beautiful and I love it. Besides, many of my friends live here. It's definitely worth the stress for me."

You stop at the front door and Lando's smile disappears from his face as he realises that your time - for now - is up. He hands you your groceries, which he's been carrying for you like a gentleman for the last half hour. 

"Thank you. For your help and the nice company," you thank him and fish the front door key out of your pocket.

Lando puts his hands back in the pockets of his jumper, undecided whether to hug you goodbye or not. "I have to thank you." He pulls his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. "Can I see you again? Maybe for dinner? I'll get your favourite can of soup too," he grins and you have to laugh out loud.

"I'd love to," you reply. Why green eyes and dimples suddenly flash in the back of your mind, you don't know.

"Great. Do you have Instagram?" he asks and you look at him, confused. He raises a hand and scratches the back of his neck nervously with it. "I'd ask for your number, but I don't think you're someone who gives out their number to helpful strangers just because they're friendly."

You turn your head and point to the front door. "Well, you already know where I live, after all. And yet you ask for my Instagram?"

He licks his lips once with his tongue. "I didn't mean to be too forward."

You look down at your shopping bag, then back up at him. "You? Forward? No way."

You tell him your Instagram name and he saves it before you say goodbye with a hug that, in retrospect, you might find a little too brief. But Lando doesn't seem to want to cross any lines, which is why he only puts one arm around you to pull you close for a moment, not pressing you tightly against him but leaving some space between you.

"I'll get back to you," he says as you put the key in the door lock and turn it. "Promise."

When you enter the apartment minutes later, Charles is sitting on the couch, staring at his laptop, which is on the coffee table in front of him. You feel his gaze on you as you close the door behind you and slip off your shoes.

"Bonjour, Y/N." He gets up and follows you into the kitchen, where you take the groceries out of the bag and place them on the countertop. "Thank you for shopping. Did you sleep well?"

You did indeed. Whether it was the wine or the fact that you really enjoyed your evening with him, you don't know. When you woke up this morning and found that Charles had already left, you had been a little too relieved. The thoughts you harboured towards him last night make you feel guilty, so you decide to repress them and forget about them. 

Everything that happened last night was purely amicable, which his "mon ami" on the note also confirms. Secretly, you are glad that he sees it that way too. If he were to give you signs of being interested, you would have to think seriously about the whole situation. And you don't want that.

You're happy living with Charles. And even though you've only known each other for two days, you're sure he's a better friend than anyone else has ever been. No one in your old group of friends had ever been so friendly, so helpful, so caring. 

If that's how friends behave, then you never really had any.

"Well," you answer him. "I'm still alive, although I didn't lock the door yesterday. That certainly lets me sleep well."

Charles smiles and reaches for the chicken breast, which he rinses and seasons as you put a pan of oil on the hob. "Or maybe I just want you to feel safe. And someday, when you're not expecting it, I'll catch you," he jokes. 

"And that's exactly why I was serious about my offer last night," you return, watching as he puts the chicken into the hot oil. You hear it hiss and bubble. "That you can sleep in bed tonight. I don't mind. After all, it's your bed. And it's only fair that you use it."

Charles turns the chicken in the pan and looks at you. "And you're not just doing this so I won't murder you while you sleep?" His grin widens. 

"That, my friend, is a nice side effect."

While the chicken sizzles away, you prepare the avocado and Charles the kale. "It's all right, Y/N. It's only been the second night on the couch. And I promise you nothing will happen that would make you lock the door."

"But last night you -"

"Last night the wine was talking out of me when I sent you the picture," he interrupts. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." His smile is gentle. "That's what we agreed and that's what we'll stick to."

"That we agreed, I know," you confirm, digging a bowl out of the cupboard. Charles fills it with the ingredients and finally puts the roasted chicken on top. You turn off the hob. "But I don't think we have to stick rigidly to that rule for this," you point to the space between you, "to work. We're friends, not strangers. And as your friend, I can't have you breaking your back."

You see Charles swallow before turning away and picking up the bowl. Apparently he doesn't know what to say in response, because he changes the subject as you sit down on the couch together. "So, are you coming tonight? We were going out for dinner and then to a club. You don't have to come if you don't want to, of course, but I'd love to introduce you to my friends. We're a cool group and I think you'd fit in quite well." He spears a piece of avocado with his fork. "Besides, maybe I can take your mind off your asshole of an ex-boyfriend that way."

That's right. There was something. 

You haven't had to think about him since last night. About him calling you all the time and spoiling your mood. That he cheated on you a while back and broke your heart. 

Charles managed, with just a film and his company, to make you forget the pain and anger. In his presence you felt comfortable, warm, which was perhaps also a little due to the wine. And as you thought back over the evening, a feeling spread through you that you could not describe. 

The only word you can think of to describe this feeling is Charles.

"I didn't mean to remind you," your roommate says softly when you don't answer him. His eyes are fixed on his food. "Sorry."

You shake your head, more to let him know that your thoughts are not about your ex-boyfriend, but about Charles's kindness and care, but apparently he takes it as accepting the apology. He exhales in relief. 

"So? Are you coming with me later? With my friends and me?", Charles asks again. 

Isn't it too early to meet his friends? You two haven't known each other for very long either. But after all, you would be there as his roommate slash friend, not as his girlfriend. So for him, there's no reason why you shouldn't be there. So there is none for you either. 

"Do I need to wear anything nice? My wardrobe isn't exactly the most elegant," you confess, pointing to the oversized jumper hanging from your shoulders and the black leggings down your legs. 

Charles' gaze moves from your face, across your torso, down further to the tops of your feet, which are inches away from his. "It doesn't matter what you wear. You look beautiful in anything."

You hope he doesn't notice how hard you have to swallow the lump in your throat. "Then I'll come with you."

Satisfied, Charles puts a piece of chicken in his mouth and chews on it. As his cell phone vibrates on the table in front of you, he stiffens a little. 

From your position you can see that an unknown number is calling him. And you can well understand his reaction to it. You definitely wouldn't answer a call either if you didn't know who it was from. A short time later the phone is silent again and the screen goes black again. Charles visibly relaxes.

"I think calls from unknown numbers are totally nerve-wracking," you try to lighten the situation a little. "There was a time when I let the phone keep ringing, but now I just press unknown callers away."

Charles looks to you. "Would you press my call away?"

You draw your eyebrows together. "Well, since I don't have your number, I probably would."

Your roommate presses his tongue into his cheek. "Then it would be better if I gave it to you, no?"

Without a word, you hand him your unlocked phone - which looks really puny in his big hands - so he can punch in his number before calling himself. As he hands it back to you, he picks up his own phone to put your number in, deleting the unknown call. 

"Give me your Instagram, please."

You look at him uncertainly, but give him your name. "Do you need anything else? My credit card number? Birth certificate? National insurance number?"

"No, you dickhead." He taps away on his phone and a moment later a notification pops up on your screen. 

bawsixteen started following you

You open the app and click on his account and on the "Follow" button and a few moments later his entire profile is visible to you. He hasn't posted many pictures, some you recognise from Jori's place, but one in particular catches your eye. 

"So, tonight we're going out for dinner. Around eight, so we have to leave around around quarter to." Charles puts the empty bowl on the table and turns to you. "I have to leave in a few minutes. Will you be okay on your own until then? I don't think I'll be gone too long." 

You wonder if he's going to the woman he spoke to on the phone yesterday. "I'm an adult, Charles. I'll be fine," you smile. "Maybe by then I'll find a nice potato sack to wear later."

Charles laughs, gets up and goes into the kitchen to wash the bowl. "If you can find a second one that might fit me, bring it along. Then we could go in matching clothes. That would be something." You hear him turn on the tap at the sink. "Well, if you find one, you can call me."

"As long as you promise to answer." You turn and lean your arm over the back of the couch to watch him. His back muscles stand out under his shirt and you can see them moving. 

Charles looks over his shoulder at you and smiles. "Deal."

-

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bawsixteen: 📍📸 the most beautiful place in Monaco

next part

[theemporium]

is it fluff? I don't know?

but charles and r where charles is like "what happened pour moi?"

and r is like "oui, so i had a little too much café on an empty túmmy, so i had a - how do you say - panique attaque."

(tbf I don't know where the monologue is from? I found it on a generator for funny dialogue)

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

When you first started dating Charles, you made a point of wanting to learn his native language.

The only issue was that you would quickly come to realise you were absolutely shit at learning a new language. It didn’t matter if you went to classes, downloaded Duolingo or even bought those little guides with simple and well-used phrases, it just didn’t seem to click to you as easily as it did with others.

But you were still so determined to learn, and it warmed Charles’ heart.

You wanted to be able to talk to him in his mother tongue because it was a beautiful language and you would love to understand what he said when he spoke it. You wanted to be able to talk to his family when they make such an effort to talk to you in English. And even if it was maybe too soon to think about such, you knew you wanted your children to be able to speak their father’s language too. 

You were determined, so you made a deal with Charles. 

You had your French days.

These would be days where you would wake up and set the goal of speaking French all day, or as much as you could. Charles would only talk to you in French, and he would be there to help you with any words and phrases you didn’t know. It was supposed to be a simple exercise that helped you immerse yourself in the language and push your boundaries to help further your knowledge. 

It would just be random days where you would turn to Charles in the morning and inform him of as much, just stating ‘it’s a French day’ before going on with your morning routine.

Today was one of those days. 

Except, when you had woken up with a pit in your stomach, you chose to ignore it. You had days where you woke up feeling a little fuzzy, a little on edge, a little anxious. You tried to have more relaxed itineraries on those days if you could, and that was exactly what you should have done today. But for some stupid reason, you thought you could push through it.

However, pushing through it meant that you were barely unable to stomach any food, let alone have the appetite to eat. It meant that you were constantly feeling as though you were about to tip over the edge. And it meant you should have stayed far, far away from coffee when your heart was already about to beat out of your chest. 

But Charles had brought you a coffee back after his morning run, and you didn’t have the heart to say anything.

And first, it just felt like palpitations. You thought it would come and pass, and you’d be in the clear to just take a chill day. 

But your heart was only speeding up, and the nausea was undeniable. Your chest felt tight with panic as you pressed the heel of your palm against your chest, hoping it would do something to ease the feeling but it didn’t.

Your breathing became erratic and shaky, your whole body felt like it was vibrating and you were pretty sure your head was underwater with how muffled your hearing was.

And your poor boyfriend was absolutely baffled. 

“Amour? Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?”

You let out some choked noise, your brain feeling far too fuzzy to even try muttering up a response to Charles, let alone in French.

“Amour? Baby? Are you okay? What’s wrong? What’s happening?” His words became more frantic as he quickly made his way over to you, his hands on your shoulder as he tried to catch your gaze. 

“I—” You let out a slightly garbled noise before giving him a sheepish smile. It was stupid to try and continue the French day tradition, but even in your state, you tried. Even if your attempt was just speaking mostly in English with a botched French accent. “I am having—uh, une panique attaque!”

Charles’ eyes widened comically large. “I—fuck the French!” 

Your smile was shaky. “I already kinda do.”

His lips parted in surprise before he quickly shook his head. “Baby, no, let’s…just…sit down, please. I’m going to get you water. And something to eat. You’ve hardly touched any of the pastries I brought.”

You listened to his demands, taking a seat on the plush living room couch as your boyfriend ran around like a madman to get anything that would make you feel better.

It wasn’t until over an hour later after you had drank what felt like all the water in the Monaco Pier and consumed enough croissants for a lifetime where you finally felt the tight feeling in your chest ease and your heart rate drop to a normal level. You were still on the couch, now cuddled with your back pressed against his chest as he held you tightly.

“I’m sorry for ruining French day,” you murmured to your boyfriend.

Charles only scoffed. “Baby, please. Your health is more important than French day.”

You paused for a moment before continuing. “I’m also sorry for basically calling you French.”

“Yeah, that I’m not forgiving,” Charles grumbled, but you could hear the smile on his face even if you couldn’t see it. “I think it counts as a hate crime.”

You rolled your eyes. “You are théâtral.” 

Charles grinned as he pecked your cheek. “Good word, baby, where did you learn that one?”

“Arthur.” 

“Fucking Arthur.”

.

[allsouls-emma]

hii so i was wondering if you could write for leon x y/n ? maybe one where she is also french? if that’s not too much to ask🤍

✧Les Ondes de l'Amour✧ ─ Léon Marchand x Y/N

Hello Anon, Thank you for your request! I'm not fluent in french, only learning I have is from secondary level education. I hope this is to your expectation, x

Warnings: Not fluent in French, Established relationship, creative intervention to fit plot.

The golden sun cast a warm glow over the pool at the Centre National de la Natation in Paris. The air was thick with the scent of chlorine, and the rhythmic splash of swimmers practicing their strokes echoed around the massive facility.

You were sitting by the side of the pool, your legs dangling in the cool water as you watched the elite swimmers glide through the water with precision. Among them, your eyes were naturally drawn to one in particular—Leon Marchand.

Leon had captured the world's attention with his incredible talent, and today, he was training hard, as usual. Every stroke, every kick, was a testament to the hours of dedication he poured into his sport. But when he saw you sitting there, a smile broke through his usually focused expression.

You waved, a small gesture, but it made his heart skip a beat. As he finished his lap and surfaced, he swam towards you, water streaming down his toned muscles. The way he moved, graceful yet powerful, never ceased to amaze you.

"Tu t'amuses bien, chérie?" Leon asked playfully, resting his arms on the edge of the pool beside you.

("Are you having fun, sweetheart?")

You smiled back at him, your eyes reflecting the warmth of his. "Comment pourrais-je m'ennuyer en te regardant? Tu es impressionnant, comme toujours."

("How could I be bored watching you? You're impressive, as always.")

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Tu sais bien que je le fais mieux quand tu es là."

("You know I do it better when you're here.")

There was a teasing tone to his voice, but you knew there was truth behind it. Your presence always seemed to bring out the best in him, something you both silently acknowledged.

"Alors, tu es prêt pour les championnats?" you asked, tilting your head slightly as you looked at him.

("So, are you ready for the championships?")

"Je le suis. Mais seulement si tu es là pour m'encourager," Leon replied, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

("I am. But only if you're there to cheer me on.")

You blushed slightly, the soft touch sending a flutter through your heart. "Bien sûr. Je serai là, juste à côté de toi, comme toujours."

("Of course. I'll be there, right beside you, as always.")

"Ça me rassure," he said softly, his gaze locking with yours. For a moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this intimate bubble of calm.

("That reassures me.")

Leon leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tu sais, Y/N, quand je suis dans l'eau, je pense souvent à toi. Ça m'aide à me concentrer, à me pousser plus loin."

("You know, Y/N, when I'm in the water, I often think of you. It helps me focus, to push myself further.")

Your breath hitched slightly at his words. Leon was not one to open up easily, but with you, he always seemed to find the courage to share his thoughts and feelings.

"Je pense à toi aussi," you admitted, your hand moving to rest on his, still slick with water. "Tu es une source d'inspiration pour moi."

("I think of you too. You're a source of inspiration for me.")

"Alors, nous nous inspirons mutuellement," he said with a soft smile before pressing a gentle kiss to your hand.

("Then, we inspire each other.")

The moment was broken by the sharp sound of a whistle, calling Leon back to the pool. He sighed, looking over his shoulder before turning back to you.

"Je dois y retourner," he said, a hint of reluctance in his voice.

("I have to go back.")

"I know," you replied, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'll be right here, cheering you on."

With one last lingering look, Leon pushed off the edge, diving back into the water with renewed energy. As you watched him swim away, your heart swelled with pride and affection. You knew that no matter where life took you both, you would always be there for each other—your love as steady and powerful as the waves that Leon so expertly conquered.

---

Later that evening, you and Leon returned to his apartment, a cozy space filled with reminders of his journey as a swimmer. Framed medals and photos adorned the walls, telling the story of his accomplishments. The scent of dinner filled the air—a simple but hearty meal of pasta and grilled chicken, something quick and nutritious to fuel his intense training.

As you sat down at the small dining table, Leon poured you a glass of sparkling water, the bubbles fizzing softly. "Tu as bien aimé l'entraînement aujourd'hui?" he asked, settling into the chair across from you.

("Did you enjoy the training today?")

"Oui, c'était impressionnant. Tu es toujours tellement concentré," you replied, twirling some pasta around your fork.

("Yes, it was impressive. You're always so focused.")

Leon shrugged modestly, a small smile playing on his lips. "J'essaie. Mais c'est plus facile quand je sais que tu es là pour me soutenir."

("I try. But it's easier when I know you're there to support me.")

You reached across the table, placing your hand over his. "Je serai toujours là, Leon. Tu n'as pas à t'inquiéter pour ça."

("I'll always be there, Leon. You don't have to worry about that.")

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and affection. "Ça compte beaucoup pour moi, tu sais?"

("That means a lot to me, you know?")

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. Dinner with Leon was always filled with easy conversation and quiet moments of connection. Tonight was no different, but there was an added layer of excitement in the air. Tomorrow, you were both heading to Toulouse to have dinner with his parents—a step in your relationship that felt both significant and special.

---

The next day, after a smooth train ride, you arrived in Toulouse. The city had a different pace from Paris, more relaxed and warm, much like the Marchand family itself. Leon’s parents had invited you to their home, a charming house just outside the city center. The garden was in full bloom, with vibrant flowers adding a splash of color to the cozy surroundings.

Leon opened the front gate for you, leading the way up the stone path. As soon as you stepped inside, you were enveloped in the comforting aroma of home-cooked food. His mother, always gracious, greeted you with a warm hug, while his father shook your hand with a smile.

"Bienvenue, Y/N! On est tellement contents de te voir," his mother said, guiding you into the living room.

("Welcome, Y/N! We're so happy to see you.")

"Merci beaucoup. Je suis ravie d'être ici," you replied, genuinely touched by the warmth of their welcome.

("Thank you so much. I'm delighted to be here.")

Dinner was a lively affair. The table was laden with a spread of delicious French dishes—ratatouille, coq au vin, and a fresh baguette that Leon’s father had picked up from the local bakery that morning. As you all sat around the table, the conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and stories.

Leon’s parents were clearly proud of him, but they were also keen to learn more about you. They asked about your work, your family, and your hobbies. The warmth in their eyes made you feel like you were already a part of their family.

As the evening wore on, Leon’s mother brought out dessert—a tart au citron that was as beautiful as it was delicious. Over the sweet treat, the conversation turned to lighter topics, and you felt completely at ease.

"Leon nous parle souvent de toi," his mother said, her eyes twinkling. "Il est tellement heureux quand tu es là."

("Leon talks about you often. He's so happy when you're around.")

You blushed slightly, glancing at Leon, who was smiling softly at you. "Je suis heureuse aussi, surtout quand je suis avec lui."

("I'm happy too, especially when I'm with him.")

His father raised his glass, a gesture of celebration. "À vous deux. Que votre bonheur continue de grandir."

("To you both. May your happiness continue to grow.")

"À nous," Leon echoed, clinking his glass against yours with a loving smile.

("To us.")

After dinner, you and Leon took a stroll through the garden, the cool evening air refreshing after the warmth of the house. The stars were beginning to twinkle in the night sky, and the sounds of the city felt far away, leaving just the two of you in a peaceful bubble.

"Merci d'être venue ce soir," Leon said softly, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you walked.

("Thank you for coming tonight.")

"Merci de m'avoir invitée. Tes parents sont adorables," you replied, leaning into him.

("Thank you for inviting me. Your parents are lovely.")

"Je savais qu'ils t'aimeraient," he said with a smile, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Comme je t'aime."

("I knew they'd love you. Just like I do.")

Your heart swelled at his words, and you stopped walking, turning to face him. "Je t'aime aussi, Leon. Plus que tu ne le sauras jamais."

("I love you too, Leon. More than you'll ever know.")

He cupped your face in his hands, his touch gentle and warm. The soft glow of the garden lights cast a golden hue on his features, highlighting the tenderness in his eyes. "C'est tout ce que je voulais entendre," Leon whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

("That's all I wanted to hear.")

Slowly, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both sweet and passionate. It felt like time stood still, the world around you fading into the background. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of you and the love you shared.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathing softly in the stillness of the night. Leon's thumb brushed gently across your cheek, as if trying to memorize every detail of your face.

"Je veux que tu saches que je suis sérieux à propos de nous," Leon said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Je ne peux pas imaginer ma vie sans toi."

("I want you to know that I'm serious about us. I can't imagine my life without you.")

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings. "Moi non plus, Leon. Je suis tellement heureuse de t'avoir trouvé."

("Neither can I, Leon. I'm so happy to have found you.")

The night felt almost magical as you both stood there, wrapped in each other's arms. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring you together, and now that you had found each other, there was no turning back.

Eventually, you made your way back inside, where Leon's parents were relaxing in the living room, enjoying a quiet moment with their coffee. They looked up as you entered, their smiles warm and knowing.

"Ça a été une belle soirée, non?" Leon's mother asked, a twinkle of affection in her eyes as she glanced between the two of you.

("It was a lovely evening, wasn't it?")

"Oui, c'était parfait," you replied, exchanging a meaningful look with Leon.

("Yes, it was perfect.")

His father nodded, setting down his cup. "Vous êtes toujours les bienvenus ici. N'oubliez pas que cette maison est aussi la vôtre."

("You're always welcome here. Don't forget that this house is also yours.")

Touched by their kindness, you smiled and thanked them both. It was clear that Leon's parents had embraced you as part of their family, and that meant more to you than words could express.

As the night drew to a close, you and Leon said your goodbyes and made your way back to his apartment. The journey was quiet, both of you lost in your thoughts, but it was a comfortable silence, one filled with the contentment of knowing that you were loved and cherished.

Back at the apartment, you curled up on the couch together, Leon’s arm wrapped around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. The day had been long but fulfilling, and now, in the quiet comfort of his home, you felt at peace.

"Je pense que mes parents t'aiment plus que moi," Leon joked, breaking the silence with a playful smile.

("I think my parents love you more than they love me.")

You laughed softly, tilting your head to look up at him. "C'est parce qu'ils savent que je vais bien m'occuper de toi."

("That's because they know I'll take good care of you.")

He grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "Et moi de toi."

("And I of you.")

The rest of the evening passed in a blissful haze, the two of you simply enjoying each other’s presence. As you drifted off to sleep in Leon’s arms later that night, you knew without a doubt that this was where you were meant to be—right beside him, in a life filled with love, laughter, and the promise of a beautiful future together.

[charlesslut16]

-lovers-

here are the other parts : (1) , (2) 

summary : after the kiss you and charles talk about what is between the two of you...

PAIRING : charles leclerc x fem!reader

WARNINGS : badly translated french

note : wrote this, while watching the monaco gp qualifying. Sorry if there are mistakes

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You stepped away from charles, so your lips couldn't touch anymore. You looked at his face, his eyes, with confusion. What was happening ? Just as you wanted to say something, he interrupted you.

"Y/n I need you to love me, like I love you. I need you to hold on to me, like I hold on to you. I need you to need me. Because this would mean, you can't see the possibility without me. Just like I do with you. "

Speechless. That was what you were. You didn't know what was happening. Just three weeks ago you hated each other, well you didn't hate him, you just thought he hated you. But you were so wrong.

You wanted to say something again, but he put his finder on your lip to silence you.

"You have no idea how far I would go for you, ma jolie fille." charles said, putting a wet piece of your hair behind your ear. My pretty girl.

"Je te donnerais la lune et les étoiles et tout un putain d’univers, si cela signifiait que tu es la femme la plus heureuse du monde." I would give you the moon and the stars and a whole fucking universe, if it would mean you are the happiest woman alive.

In the sky, the clouds started clearing up, as your mind cleared up too, which left you with only one question in your mind. You were stunned. The words charles said, and your heart jumped in your chest.

"You taste like the sweetest drug, mon couer. Like my dearrest addiction" charles growled. "created only for me."

Your breathing started going faster, as you heard his words. Your pulse beating faster by every second that passed. Maybe he was your drug, that you couldn't have enough of.

"God. I can't get enough of you." He rasped. "Everyone says drugs are your death, tell me why I feel so alive when I see you or when I'm with you."

"I... I don't know what to say." you stuttered. "Only that..." you swallowed, took a deep breath and continued. "I think I should go."

Charles bent down to your neck and groaned, as you said that. "You're it for me, baby. It's okay if you're not ready for me yet. Je t’attendrai pour l’éternité s’il le faut, mon coeur." I will wait for you for eternity if I must, my heart. 

"I will wait a lifetime for you if I must." Charles lifted his head to look into your eyes. In them was, confusion, love and most of all, adoration. Then he whispered. "You are worth all the waiting."

At that moment, Charles thought, that was the end. That you had made up your mind and that you didn't want him or the relationship. But then you kissed him. 

You moaned in his mouth when charles pulled you even closer to him.

 "À partir de maintenant, je ne te laisse jamais partir. Jamais. Aujourd’hui, j’ai vu que tu es la seule chose dont j’ai besoin. La course est importante pour moi, mais vous êtes aussi important que la course." From now on, I'm never letting you go. Never. Today made me see that you are the only thing that I need. Racing is important to me, but you are as important, as racing.

You stepped away from his, to say. "Alors, tu vas me demander d’être ta petite amie ou quoi?" Charles chuckled at your aswer, pulling you close to him, pulling your chin up, so you could look at him. So, are you going to ask me to be your girlfriend or what?

"Y/n, mon coeur. Est-ce que tu me donnes l’honneur et que tu es ma petite amie ? " Y/n, my heart. Do you give me the honor and be my girlfriend? 

"I'm not sure. Let me think about it" you answered with a small smirk on your lip, as you saw charles jaw drop.

"oui. I will be your girlfriend, charlie"

Charles composted himself, putted on hand on your waist and the other on your cheek, cradling in the process. You looked in his eyes, seeing happiness. And he looked in yours and saw adoration.

That's when Charles realized, he would do everything for you. No matter the consequences.

[siampie]

Risk and Reward||Chapter 8: La Vie en Rose

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: In the aftermath of your night of passion with Matt, you are trying to determine what is the nature of those new feelings that are arising.

Warnings/tags: 18+, MDNI, smut, p in v, oral (male receiving), protected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks, always.), lots of fluff

A/N: Here it goes, a little more smut in this chapter.    

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Dividers by @cafekitsune

Song the title is referring to:

Il est entré dans mon cœur (I welcomed in my heart)

Une part de bonheur (A piece of happiness)

Dont je connais la cause (Of which I know the reason)

C’est lui pour moi (It’s him for me)

Moi pour lui dans la vie (Me for him, in this life)

Il me l’a dit, l’a juré pour la vie (He told me so, swore it for life)

Et, dès que je l’aperçois (And as soon as I see him)

Alors je sens en moi (Well, I can feel inside of me)

Mon cœur qui bat (My heart beating)

You had not stirred up in your sleep when Matt slid out of bed. He huffed out a quiet laugh when you let out a soft snore. He had quietly gotten dressed, putting on grey sweatpants and a dark shirt. He only hoped he had food in his fridge, enough to cook some breakfast. Matt didn’t have a habit to stock his fridge with food, although he would argue he was getting better at it. His ears were on you while he was cooking breakfast. A slow lazy grin pulled at his lips as he remembered the night before. Your body going on overdrive while you offered yourself to him. He loved the way your body had reacted to him, to his voice and his touch.

Matt considered himself lucky to have found you. It was probably too early to say that he was lucky. Maybe he would ruin it one way or the other, as he always did. He just couldn’t help but enjoyed the way you always reached out to him when you were together in a room. Always seeking his touch as though you couldn’t get enough of it. He never wanted you to stop. He was also aware that he would have to let you know about the Devil. He was just afraid that once you knew, you would just stop. That you would want nothing to do with him anymore. And he didn’t think he could bare the thought of that happening.

You padded into the living room as he was pulling two cups out. A slow smile pulled at his lips, you were wearing his shirt. And as you wrapped your arms around his middle from behind, he could smell himself on you. You buried your face between his shoulder blades while he poured the coffee.

“How did you sleep?” Matt asked you, his hand wrapping around one of your wrists. He pulled you around him, so, you could face him.

“Amazing.” His arms wrapped around you. You yawned, burying your face in his chest.

“Not a morning person, uh?” He chuckled.

“Not really,” you grumbled.

“Hopefully, some coffee and breakfast might make it better.” Matt suggested, his lips met your temple tenderly before he steered you to the small table.

Rubbing sleep out of your eyes, you took in the sight of Matt bringing breakfast to you. It was a beautiful sight. Something you could get used to. He placed the plate in front of you, and your stomach grumbled at the smell of the omelet. You were not much one for breakfast, it was one coffee and nothing less. But you had worked up an appetite from the night before, and now you were famished.

“How do you take your coffee?” Matt asked from the kitchen.

“Black and three teaspoons of sugar.” You answered. “Is that bell pepper?”

“I had some left in the fridge. And thought I could make it fancy.” He answered, shrugging off one shoulder.

“Well, it does look fancy.” You smiled at him. “Smells delicious too.” You thanked him as he put the coffee cup in front of you. He tilted his head slightly, his unseeing eyes focused somewhere over your shoulder. “What?”

“You’re not eating.” He said sitting across from you.

“Oh—I’m waiting for you.” You shrugged smiling.

“You don't have to wait for me.” He smiled softly, grabbing his own fork. "Just go ahead."

“Bon Appétit.”

You felt pleasantly sore from the night before. It felt so surreal for you to be sitting here, having breakfast with Matt. He wasn’t your first boyfriend by no means, although your previous relationships weren’t as successful. You never truly worried about them, but sitting here with Matt, enjoying your breakfast, you were expecting for the other shoe to drop. You were expecting for something to go wrong. Because you were happy, because it mattered.

You were sure it was too soon to say anything. It had barely been a month. And maybe, you weren’t entirely thinking clearly. You had just woken up. And the night before, you and Matt had engaged in sexual intercourse for the very first time. And that feeling in your chest was probably the result of that. Maybe, you were getting your feelings all mixed up. You might feel different tomorrow. But right in this moment, you didn’t want to have breakfast with anyone else but him. The truth was, you didn’t want just anyone. You wanted him. And that truly scared you.

The truth was, you really, really liked him.

“Are you okay?” You asked him suddenly; you were both cuddling on the couch in the quiet apartment.

“What?” Matt exclaimed, a laugh escaping his lips.

“I’ve seen the scars, Matthew.” Your hand ran along his chest, where you knew the scars to be. Matt tensed under your touch. You looked up at him, sensing the shift in the air. “I’m sorry—I—”

“No, it’s okay—it’s just—um—” He cupped your jaw, “I will tell you all about it. Everything. Just not today.”

Your eyes roamed his face, it sounded like a promise. Although, he didn’t look comfortable about the topic. You didn’t know what had happened to him, you were curious. Those scars were almost identical, and you could only imagine how terrible and deep these wounds truly were. Matt wasn’t comfortable with this subject; you could feel it in the way he had tensed under your touch. You weren’t going to push.

“It’s okay.” You reassured him. “I’m not going anywhere. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” You moved up so you could kiss him.

You would be patient, and you’d be there to listen. There were certain things that people had a hard time to share, just like you. There were certain things you weren’t ready to share with him. Things from your childhood, you had yet to come to terms with. Memories that were long forgotten. Mainly because your brain had decided to block them out. And only in recent years, some of them had come back. And feelings, emotions you had felt at the time had washed over you. And you wished they had remained repressed a little longer.

Maybe Matt wasn’t ready to revisit something that had been traumatic at the time. And you didn’t want him to revisit it for your own curiosity. So, you would ignore the subject of his scars and not bring them up. Not until he was ready to share his story with you.

You would wait for him.

“Someone had a good weekend.” Amelia commented when you joined her at the foot of her building.

“It was okay.” You shrugged, repressing a smile.

“Okay, uh?” Amelia repeated while you both started to walk together. “That’s it.” She shoved you lightly. “Come on, it was more than okay, wasn’t it?”

You giggled, “yeah, it was.” Amelia jumped up and down, next to you. “It was amazing.”

“You need to give me more than that.”

“No, I won’t kiss and tell. All you need to know is that—Matt is—an excellent lover.”

You and Matt had spent most of Saturday together, but eventually you had to go home. You had borrowed a fresh shirt and gym shorts to go home. And briefly, you had smelled like him. You were truly happy in this new relationship. Was that the honeymoon phase? Where everything felt great, carefree and happy. Where it felt as though nothing could go wrong. You wanted this—honeymoon phase to last for as long as possible. Before life and God came to the realization that you were happy and they just needed to ruin it for you. Before Matt realized you were too much to handle.

You were convinced your mother had walked away for this very reason. You were too much for her. You loved too much, you expected too much in return and she couldn’t handle it or didn’t want to. You didn’t know.

You were too much and also not enough. Not enough for her to stay. Not enough for her to come back. Not enough for her to love. You were simply not enough.

Your father had made you feel the same too. You were too emotional, too dramatic, too generous. As he was, by the way. And at the same time, you weren’t doing enough. You weren’t doing enough around the house. Or you weren’t doing chores fast enough. Or you weren’t making enough money. Whatever you did, was just not enough for him.

You had learned to give yourself some grace over the years. You have learned to love yourself and be kind to yourself. Still, this ill thought of being not enough and too much at the same time kept creeping back. Making you doubt and question relationships, people and yourself.

You should relax and let yourself enjoy this relationship with Matt. But in the back of your head, there was this small voice that kept telling you;

This is too good to be true.

“Alright, stop that!” Amelia bumped her shoulder into yours.

“What?” You turned to her quickly.

“This,” she waved her hand over your form. “The voices in your head are wrong.” She leaned closer to you, “listen, you are happy, right?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Very much.”

“Then don’t let those voices ruin everything for you.” Amelia reassured you. “Matt couldn’t take his hands off of you. He really likes you. Have a little faith in him.”

“It’s not him the problem.” You said, Amelia laced her arm with yours. “It’s me. I’m sure I’m going to do something that will—put him off.”

“Like what? Loving on him too much? Giving him head?”

“I’m serious, okay?” You snapped. “I always find a way to drive the people I love away. Or I’m the one who ends up walking away. And I really don’t want that happening with Matt.”

She let out a deep sigh, “Trust me, it won’t.” You looked up at her. “You won’t drive him away, and you love him too much to leave now.”

“Never said anything about love.” You stammered out, panicking that you had let something slipped.

“Oh, honey.” She huffed out a laugh as you neared your workplace. “Don’t worry, it’ll be our secret.” She winked at you.

Matt threw the empty bag of take outs while you finished up washing the dishes. His arms wrapped around your waist as you dried off your hands. His nose buried in your neck; you heard him inhale deeply. You brushed your fingers in his arms lightly.

“How early do you have to go to work tomorrow?” You asked quietly.

“Well, that’s the perks of being your own boss. I can afford being a little late.” Matt lips trailed up your neck, finishing their course on your jaw.

You both started swaying, “do you want to spent the night?” You asked him timidly.

“I’d love that very much.” He whispered against your ear.

A small smile pulled at your lips. As you turned around in his arms, your arms wrapping around his neck, your fingers grazing at the hair on the nape on his neck. You kissed him hard on the lips. You had missed him and you couldn’t wait any longer to have him again. His hands slid down your ass, squeezing it gently. The action pulled a quiet moan out of you.

“Matty?” You panted pulling away, he chased after your lips. “I want to try something.”

“What?”

Without a word you pulled him into your bedroom. Nervous of even breaching the subject, you just decided to initiate it. You had thought about it for a while. You pushed him down onto the bed.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” Matt pushed himself up on his elbows.

You started to unbuckle his pants, “I just—I want—”

His hands rested on yours as he sat up, “you don’t have to do that. I’m not expecting you to.”

“I know.” You nodded, your hands sliding on his thick thighs. “But I really want to. And if you’re open to it, I would love to do this for you.”  You pushed him back with a kiss on his lips. “Just let me take care of you tonight, okay?”

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you kept kissing him. You reached down to grip him through his pants, slowly stroking him. His fingers entangled in your hair; he pulled your bottom lip between his. You kept stroking him, moans falling from his lips. You let go of his cock, only to open his shirt. You kissed down his jaw, his neck, his chest. You felt his stomach tensed under your lips, tight in anticipation. Your hands reached for his belt, unbuckling it. You knelt between his legs, pulling down his pants, coming face to face with his bulge.

You swallowed your saliva, your breath growing shallow. So was his. You pulled down his boxer, he hissed when the cold air hit his leaking tip. You gripped him at the base. You licked at the salty pre-cum, a needy moan pushing past his lips, one of his hands finding the back of your head.

This was more for you than for him, really. You didn’t really have a good experience when it came to giving oral. You've had partners that had shown themselves forceful. They pushed you beyond your limits which had soured your experience. You wanted to do this for Matt as he had done for you. You wanted to enjoy it. And you trusted Matt enough to try it with him.

You wrapped your lips around his length. His fist tightened in your hair, pulling at them. But he wasn’t pushing your head down on his cock. You couldn’t take him entirely; you didn’t want to gag. So, you went slow, each time swallowing more of him, before coming back up to the sensitive head.

Matt’s head was thrown back against the bed, his eyes shut tight. Moans rising from his chest, cussing every time you go down on him. His free hand fisted the sheets on the bed, as he struggled not to buck into your mouth.

You felt yourself becoming wet as he came undone. The groans and moans you pulled out of him, made you clench your thighs, seeking for some sort of friction to alleviate the pressure that was building. You pulled him out, to breathe, stroking him with your hand.

“Sweetheart—” He moaned out, lifting his head. “I don’t—I don’t think I can last any longer, fuck, please—”

His words died on his tongue when yours swirled around his tip, before taking him again in your mouth. This time you took him a little deeper, your throat hurting a little. You pulled back slightly, he jolted when your tongue rubbed along the smooth head.

He was so lost in his pleasure that he couldn’t hold back anymore. He bucked into your mouth, his fist tight in your hair, pulling at it. You groaned at the sensation; Matt was losing control under your tongue. He was close, nearing his climax. Pleas fell from his lips, begging for that push over the edge.

Without warning, he erupted on your tongue, warm and salty. A filthy moan came out of his lips, your weeping cunt demanding for attention, clenching painfully around nothing. You swallowed it all down, your tongue rubbing against him once more, as he softened in your mouth. You let him fall from your lips, laid a kiss on his thigh, before moving to lie down next to him.

A slow blissed out smile pulled at the corner of his lips. Panting, he turned his face to you.

“Are you okay?” You asked him, your head resting in the palm of your hand. Your hand ran along his torso.

“Yeah, I’m more than okay.” Matt cupped your jaw, pulling your face to his, tasting himself on your tongue. His fingers brushed down your jaw, his hand gently wrapping around your throat. “That was amazing, sweetheart.”

“You enjoyed it, I take it.”

“Very much.” You giggled at his words, leaning over to kiss him. His hand pawed at your thigh, pulling you to him. “You’re wearing too much clothes, sweetie.”

You pushed off of him, to get rid of your clothes while he got rid of his shirt. You crawled back into the bed, and straddled him. His fingers finding your dripping cunt. A filthy moan escaped your chest.

“Shit, you’re so wet.” His finger slid easily into you, his thumb circling your clit. “Is this for me?”

You nodded; your eyes shut tight. You whimpered, “only for you.”

“You enjoyed it, didn’t you, sweetheart?” You nodded, your hips bucking into his hand. “Sucking me off, got you this wet, uh?”

“Yes!” You cried out. Your hand clamped around his wrist when you felt yourself nearing the edge. “I need—to feel you inside—” you panted out. “Please, Matty.”

He pulled his fingers out, while you reach for the condom. You stroked him a few times, his cock hardening in your hand once more. Heavy and warm. You rolled down the condom onto his shaft, before guiding him to your entrance. You slowly slid down onto his cock, taking him slowly, adjusting to him.

Your hands were on his bare chest, your eyes snapping shut as you paused. You sunk lower onto his cock, he filled you entirely.

“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart.” He praised you, your eyes rolled in the back of your head. “Just like that.” He panted, his hands resting on your hips.

Once he was fully inside of you, you rolled your hips. He let out pleased and throaty moans. You enjoyed it. His eyes were clamped shut. Setting up a slow pace, you grinded along him, his hands cupped your breasts. He kneaded the flesh as you rode him.

"Shit," you hissed. Matt unravelled beneath you, his eyes clamped shut. His hands pawing at you, going from kneading your breasts to gripping your hips. As though he didn't know where to put his hands. He looked erotically beautiful.

His grip on your hips tightened, your fingers clamped around his wrists. Your head fell back on your shoulders, his cock squeezed by your walls. Your moans and groans echoed in the room. Your hips rubbed along him, your pace unsteady as you grew tired.

Matt sat up, his arms wrapped around your back. He pulled you into his chest, his lips latching onto yours. Your hips kept grinding along him, your arms wrapped around his back. He flipped you over, switching your position.

"Oh, fuck!" You cussed, the action catching you by surprise.

It was hot that he switched your position without having to pull out.

"Doing so good for me, sweetie." Matt praised you quietly.

He bucked into you, he was now the one in charge, setting up the pace. Your hands gripped his back tighter, his lips found your pulsing point, in the crook of your neck. You naively thought that the novelty of your relationship, it being the first time sleeping with him, had made the experience so much more enjoyable. You were wrong. The second time around, you didn’t fare any better. You were stuck halfway between a panic attack and rolling around like a cat in heat. Matt’s expression, whenever you could focus long enough to see them, were as lust filled as yours felt. His pulse seemed to be galloping along about neck and neck with yours.

You gave out a sudden cry when he slammed hard into you. Your nails dragged down his back, eliciting a groan out of his chest. Matt pulled back and slammed again into you, without warning your cunt clenched around him. A loud moan echoing through the room, Matt kept bucking into you while you orgasmed, white dancing behind your eyelids.

Your toes curled; your legs tightened around his waist, shaking. Matt kept thrusting into you, slowing his pace as you came down from your high. Your hands raked through his hair, slick with sweat.  Your lips latched onto his, swallowing his moans and groans.

“Matt, faster—please.” You panted out, building up to another climax.

He complied. The tip of his cock brushed along the spongy spot inside of you. A whimper escaped your lips, filthy and needy. The sounds you made spurred Matt on, he bucked into you a little faster. Stars erupted behind your eyes, as he kept pushing on this spot with the tip of his cock.

“One more—just one more.” He breathed out in your ear.

“Fuck, yes!” You cried out, gripping his back, tightly.

Matt lowered himself to kiss you deeply as he kept pounding into you. White dancing at the edges of your vision, his thrusts growing sloppier. Your mouth opened, breaking the kiss, to let out a guttural moan. His hips stuttered to a stop, his forehead falling in the crook of your neck, a loud groan rumbling through his chest.

Your pants filled the room, both of you a sweaty mess. His lips brushed on your neck, kissing down your shoulders. Both of you were slowly coming down your high. After a few minutes, he mustered up the energy to pull out of you.

Your hand reached out to his arm, weakly pulling him to you. Matt huffed out a little laugh as he moved closer to you. You kissed his cheek, resting your forehead against his temple. You threw your leg over his hip as he pulled you as close to him as possible.

“I missed you, Matty.” You kissed him softly, “I really did.”

Matt chuckled. “That's good to hear cause I missed you too." His hand rubbed along your thigh. "A lot."

A small smile pulled at your lips, his words filling your chest with a warm feeling. Making your heart swell with—joy, and something else. Something you weren’t entirely ready to face. You thought it was too soon to feel that way about him. And maybe, it was the novelty of it all. Everything was new and beautiful; the sex was great. And your hormones may influence you in that way. This wasn’t love, it probably was the post-coital bliss.

It didn’t matter in the moment though. You were perfectly satisfied falling asleep in Matt’s arms. You could truly get used to this.

“What?” You leaned closer to your mirror. On your neck, a large copper-rich bruise was on display. “Matt!”

“What’s wrong?” He turned to you, tying his tie loosely around his neck.

“You left a hickey on my neck.” You groaned, pointing to your neck. “A very large one too. When did you have time to do that?”

“Well—” Matt smirked, his hand coming up to brush against the offensive mark. “We did get carried away last night.”

“Amelia is gonna have a field day with this.” You grumbled, pouting.

Matt snorted before resting his lips on your brows. “I’m sure it’ll be alright.”

“Have you met Amelia?” You pulled back slightly to glare at him. “She’s merciless.”

“I can imagine,” he pulled you into his chest, burying his nose in his favorite patch of skin.

“Matt?” He hummed in your neck, both of you swaying. “We’re going to be late for work.”

“Or we could stay in bed all day.” He suggested, inhaling deeply. “Naked together, getting to know each other better.” His fingers travelled up and down your spine.

Your breath hitched in your throat. His voice, and his fingers on your spine, ignited the fire in the pit of your stomach. You would love nothing more than to stay in bed with him all day long. But he had his practice than needed him, and you had datelines to meet.

“As tempting as that sounds, and as much as I would love to, we can’t.” You reasoned. “Tell you what,” you pulled away slightly. “We can make that happen this weekend.”

“You’re full of good ideas, sweetheart.” His lips tugged up at the corner.

“Always, my good sir.” You replied back, “come on, hurry up, you still need to stop by your apartment.” You padded back into the bathroom. “We’re definitely going to be late.”

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[onlyonetifosi]

chapter 13

<- previous series masterlist my main masterlist next ->

The vibrant city lights of Monaco shone below as Yn and Joris walked along the harbor, their laughter echoing against the luxurious yachts. The F1 season was in full swing, and the excitement of the races permeated the air. Little did they know, their lives were about to take an unexpected turn.

As they settled into a cozy corner of a seaside cafe, Yn nervously toyed with her necklace, glancing at Joris with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety.

"Joris, there's something I need to tell you," she began, her eyes meeting his with a mix of excitement and fear.

Joris, sensing her nervousness, squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Whatever it is, Yn, we'll face it together."

Taking a deep breath, Yn looked into Joris' eyes. "I'm pregnant."

Joris stared at her for a moment, the words sinking in. A mixture of surprise, joy, and concern played across his face “Yn, that's incredible. We're going to be parents!”

The vibrant atmosphere of the F1 paddock buzzed with excitement as Yn strolled hand in hand with Joris. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow on the bustling scene. As they walked toward the motorhome, Yn couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. The 2024 F1 season had been a rollercoaster for Charles, and her heart swelled with pride for her twin brother.

Entering the motorhome, Yn felt a wave of nervousness wash over her. She and Joris exchanged a glance before breaking the news to her family. The room was filled with the aroma of a home-cooked meal, and the Leclerc family gathered around the table.

Pascale, Yn's mother, welcomed them with a warm smile. "Bienvenue! How was your day, mes enfants?"

Yn took a deep breath, exchanging a glance with Joris. "Maman, there's something important we need to tell you all."

"Go on, we're all ears," Lorenzo said, gesturing for them to continue.

The room fell silent as everyone turned their attention to Yn and Joris. Charles, still riding the adrenaline of his recent race, leaned back in his chair, seemingly unfazed.

Joris cleared his throat, "Yn et moi, nous attendons un bébé." (Yn and I are expecting a baby.)

A beat of silence hung in the air before Pascale beamed, "Oh mon dieu, that's wonderful news! Congratulations, my dear!" She enveloped Yn in a warm hug.

Arthur, Yn's younger brother, grinned from ear to ear and  clapped his hands excitedly "Uncle Arthur! That sounds so cool!"

Lorenzo high-fived Joris. "Congrats, man!"

But Charles, who had been calmly sipping his drink, suddenly choked, nearly spilling it. His eyes widened as he turned to Yn and Joris. "Attendez, quoi?" (Wait, what?)

Yn looked at Charles, her heart pounding. "J'ai dit que nous attendons un bébé, Charles." (I said we're expecting a baby, Charles.)

"Charles, it's okay," Yn began, her voice shaky. "We know it's a lot to take in, but—"

"You're pregnant?" Charles interrupted, his emotions clearly conflicting. "With Joris' baby? Seriously?"

Joris nodded, a proud smile on his face. "Oui, mon ami. Nous sommes ravis." (Yes, my friend. We're thrilled.)

Charles, torn between conflicting emotions, stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "No, this can't be happening," he muttered, pacing back and forth.

Yn's eyes welled up with tears as the weight of Charles' reaction hit her and Joris squeezed her hand for reassurance. "Charles, s'il te plaît, comprends." (Charles, please, understand.)

Charles, still in shock, ran his hand through his hair. "I can't believe my best friend got my sister pregnant! This is insane!"

Andrea, sensing the tension, stepped forward and spoke up. "Calma, Charles. È una bella notizia. (Calm down, Charles. It's good news.)"

Charles, frustrated, turned to Andrea, "This is my sister, Andrea! My little sister!"

Pascale, unimpressed by Charles' dramatic outburst, spoke sternly. "Charles, calme-toi! C'est une bonne nouvelle pour la famille." (Charles, calm down! It's good news for the family.)

Charles, torn between conflicting emotions, sighed deeply. "I know, but it's just… unexpected. I need some time to process this."

Andrea, Charles' personal trainer and a close family friend, spoke up. "Caro amico, la vita è piena di sorprese. Lascia che le cose si sistemino." (Dear friend, life is full of surprises. Let things settle.)

Yn, overwhelmed by the emotional rollercoaster, couldn't hold back her tears. Pascale hugged her daughter, shooting a disapproving look at Charles. "T'es trop dramatique, mon fils." (You're too dramatic, my son.)

He immediately softened, walking over to hug his sister. "I'm sorry, Yn. I'm just shocked. But I'm happy for you, really."

The tension dissipated as the Leclerc family embraced the news, Arthur jumping around excitedly. "On va avoir un bébé dans la famille!" (We're going to have a baby in the family!)

As the room filled with laughter and joy, Charles knelt down and placed his ear against Yn's belly. "Je suis désolé pour ma réaction, petite sœur. Je t'aime déjà, petit bébé." (I'm sorry for my reaction, little sister. I already love you, little baby.)

The Leclerc family, amidst the chaos of emotions, began to discuss the impending arrival. Despite Charles' initial shock, the love and support from the rest of the family prevailed, turning an unexpected revelation into a celebration of life.

taglist: @love4lando@gcldtom@im-mi@hiireadstuff@celesteblack08@reblog-princess@sunf1ower16@janeholt3@athena-artemis-dorian-gray@minkyungseokie

[hewearsfinethingswell]

On the topic of Con O'Neill's beautiful performance of La vie en rose by Edith Piaf as my most dearest blorbeau Izzy, I've written another translation as a native French speaker because some of the translations I've seen going around this week don't feel true to the original lyrics. They sometimes feel too literal in their word for word translation while missing the meaning or implication of the phrase. Translation is an art, and I don't claim to be a particularly gifted artist, but here goes.

The first part of the song starts in English and really, Ned Lowe deserved to die for interrupting that beautiful solo and preventing Ed and Stede from enjoying their romantic slow dance.

Hold me close and hold me fast / The magic spell you cast / This is la vie en rose

When you kiss me heaven sighs / And though I close my eyes / I see la vie en rose

When you press me to your heart / I'm in a world apart / A world where roses bloom

And when you speak, angels sing from above / Everyday words seem to turn into love

The next part after Miss Rapier Wit was so rudely interrupted goes as follows,

Quand il me prend dans ses bras / Il me parle l'a tout bas / Je vois la vie en rose

Which I would translate as,

When he embraces me / He speaks to me softly / I see life through rose colored glasses

In this connotation, seeing life through rose colored glasses is a good thing, not naive or unrealistic. The context of the song's initial release and popularization post WWII is not ignorant of suffering but rather speaks to a love so powerful it makes the world beautiful in spite of it.

Il me dit des mots d'amour/ Des mots de tous les jours / Et ça m'fait quelque chose

He tells me loving words / Everyday words / And it touches me

I had considered an alternative translation to the last line along the lines of he had to do it to [em] me, but I couldn't work it comfortably into the phrase. So, it could also be read as it's doing it to me.

Il est entré dans mon coeur / Une part de bonheur / Dont je connais la cause

He came into my heart / A piece of happiness / Of which I know the cause

No notes here, just dreamily sighing over those Oliver award winning pipes.

C'est lui pour moi / Moi pour lui dans la vie / Il me l'a dit, m'a juré pour la vie

He's the one for me / And I for him in life / He told me so, he vowed for life

I'm extremely normal about the glimpses and hints of Izzy and Ed's pre-show relationship this season. I really need to know if Ed gave him that ring he that always wears on his neck please and thank you Con.

Et dès que je l'aperçois / Alors je sens en moi / Mon coeur qui bas

And as soon as I felt it / I felt within me / My heart beating

Izzy Hands I'm love you please someone put it in Con's contract that he sing every single episode from now on.

[wistfulcynic]

i don't know if izzy singing la vie en rose in french is meant to be Significant or if it's just that it's a french song, but the lyrics of the english translation sung famously by louis armstrong hit very different to the og french lyrics.

english: Hold me close and hold me fast The magic spell you cast This is "La vie en rose" When you kiss me, heaven sighs And though I close my eyes I see "La vie en rose" When you press me to your heart I'm in a world apart A world where roses bloom And when you speak, angels sing from above Everyday words seem to turn into love songs Give your heart and soul to me And life will always be "La vie en rose"

this is a sweet song about the magic of being in love. In french, it's a song about being very specifically in love with a particular man who is clearly the centre of the singer's world.

here is just the refrain:

Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu'il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose Il me dit des mots d'amour Des mots de tous les jours Mais moi, ça me fait quelque chose Il est entré dans mon cœur Une grande part de bonheur Dont je connais la cause C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie Et dès que je l'aperçois Alors je sens en moi Mon cœur qui bat

translation by me (other translators may vary):

When he takes me in his arms  When he speaks softly to me  I see the world in rose  He speaks words of love  Everyday words  But to me, they have meaning He has entered my heart  A great happiness For which I know the reason  It's him for me and me for him in life  He told me so, he swore it for life  And as soon as I see him  I feel within myself  My heart beating

this is a song of pure devotion, deeply passionate. The famous crescendo where Edith Piaf's voice rises to the heavens is on "he swore it for life".

For izzy to sing this song while (presumably??) thinking of ed is... well. It's a Choice.

[microcosme11]

This is only part of a love letter Napoleon wrote

Je ne sais pas quel sort m’attend ; mais s’il m’éloigne plus longtemps de toi, il me [devient] insupportable ; mon courage ne va pas jusque-là. Il fut un temps où je m’enorgueillissais de mon courage, et quelquefois, en jetant les yeux sur le mal que pourraient me faire les hommes, sur le sort que pourrait me réserver le destin, je fixais les malheurs les plus inouïs sans froncer le sourcil, sans me sentir étonné. Mais aujourd’hui, l’idée que ma Joséphine pourrait être mal, l’idée qu’elle pourrait être malade, et surtout la cruelle, la funeste pensée qu’elle pourrait m’aimer moins, flétrit mon âme, arrête mon sang, me rend triste, abattu, ne me laisse pas même le courage de la fureur et du désespoir… Je me disais souvent jadis : les hommes ne peuvent rien à celui qui meurt sans regret ; mais aujourd’hui, mourir sans être aimé de toi, mourir sans cette certitude, c’est le tourment de l’enfer, c’est l’image vive et frappante de l’anéantissement absolu. Il me semble que je me sens étouffer. Mon unique compagne, toi que le sort a destinée pour faire avec moi le voyage pénible de la vie, le jour où je n’aurai plus ton cœur sera celui où la nature aride sera pour moi sans chaleur et sans végétation… Je m’arrête, ma douce amie ; mon âme est triste, mon corps est fatigué, mon esprit est étourdi. Les hommes m’ennuient. Je devrais bien les détester : ils m’éloignent de mon cœur.

Je suis à Port-Maurice, près Oneille ; demain, je suis à Albenga. Les deux armées se remuent ; nous cherchons à nous tromper. Au plus habile la victoire. Je suis assez content de Beaulieu ; s’il manœuvre bien, il est plus fort que son prédécesseur. Je le battrai, j’espère, de la belle manière. Sois sans inquiétude, aime-moi comme tes yeux ; mais ce n’est pas assez : comme toi ; plus que toi, que ta pensée, ton esprit, ta vie, ton tout. Douce amie, pardonne-moi, je délire ; la nature est faible pour qui sent vivement, pour celui que tu animes. [...]

Adieu, adieu, je me couche sans toi, je dormirai sans toi, je t’en prie, laisse-moi dormir. Voilà plusieurs jours où je te serre dans mes bras, songe heureux mais, mais, ce n’est pas toi…

--------

I don’t know what fate awaits me; but if it keeps me away from you any longer, it [becomes] unbearable to me; my courage only goes so far. There was a time when I prided myself on my courage, and sometimes, casting my eyes on the harm that men could do to me, on the fate that destiny could have in store for me, I stared at the most incredible misfortunes without frowning, without feeling surprised. But today, the idea that my Joséphine could be unwell, the idea that she could be ill, and above all the cruel, fatal thought that she could love me less, withers my soul, stops my blood, makes me sad, dejected, does not even leave me with the courage of fury and despair… I often used to say to myself: men can do nothing to those who die without regret; but today, to die without being loved by you, to die without this certainty, is the torment of hell, it is the vivid and striking image of absolute annihilation. I seem to be suffocating. My only companion, you whom fate has destined to make with me the painful journey of life, the day when I will no longer have your heart will be the day when arid nature will be for me without heat and without vegetation… I stop, my sweet friend; my soul is sad, my body is tired, my mind is dizzy. Men bore me. I should hate them: they take me away from my heart.

I am in Port-Maurice, near Oneille; tomorrow I'm in Albenga. The two armies move; we seek to deceive each other. The most skilful wins. I am quite happy with Beaulieu; if he maneuvers well, he is stronger than his predecessor. I will beat him, I hope, in a good way. Don't worry, love me like your eyes; but that’s not enough: like you; more than you, than your thought, your spirit, your life, your everything. Sweet friend, forgive me, I am delirious; nature is weak for those who feel keenly, for those whom you animate. [...]

Goodbye, goodbye, I'm going to bed without you, I'll sleep without you, please let me sleep. It's been several days since I held you in my arms, happy dream but, but, it's not you…

link to the entire letter on napoleonica

[alicedusstuff]

Juste moi qui pensait avant de dormir…

-version française-

Wukong n'était pas sûr s'il avait envie de pleurer ou de crier. Son corps tout entier ressemblait à un cœur qui battait trop fort contre sa poitrine.

Il regarda le sol avec rage. Puis, ses mains, ces mains impuissantes qui avaient été dans l'incapacite d'arrêter Macaque.

"C'était stupide, stupide, stupide, stupide, stupide!"

Wukong attrapa chaque côté de sa tête et tira sur ses cheveux. Son corps s'affaissa alors qu'il criait , le front collé à son ombre. C'etait le dernier vestige du portail par lequel son ami venait de le recracher pour échapper à un châtiment qu'il n'aurait jamais vu venir.

Il revoyait encore Macaque le tirer dans le portail au moment où la montagne lui tombait dessus. Il le vit lui sourire si gentiment. Pourtant Wukong pouvait entendre un "Je te l'avais dit" moqueur dans l'arrière de sa tête. Il eu juste le temps d'apercevoir Macaque user de sa magie pour porter un glamour qui changerait le singe de l'ombre, en la personne qu'il avait tenté de protéger.

Wukong ne pouvait oublier comment le noir passait au orange, les six oreilles disparaissaient pour en devenir deux, et les pupilles ressembler aux siennes.

Wukong se maudit.

Qu'est-ce qui l'a poussé à s'opposer à Bouddah ?

Il leva les yeux vers l'endroit ou devrait se trouver la montagne où Macaque devrais certainement être bloqué. Devrait il aller le voir? Macaque lui en voudrait t-il ? Voulait il même le voir ? Le coeur de Wukong se serra. Il ne pouvait pas y retourner. Il n'en avait pas le droit...il...n'était pas prêt pour ça. Il ne supporterait pas la colère de Macaque. Pas après qu'il lui est promis une vie de bonheur.

"Et si il mourrait sous cette montagne? "

Les ongles de Wukong gratèrent la terre de la montagne de fleur et de fruit, et un petit rire bref lui echappa. Non...Macaque avait une longévité demoniaque. Il ne mourra pas...n'est ce pas ?

Wukong reflechit un moment avant de se mordre l'interieur des lèvres. Il allait quand même s'assurer de nourrir Macaque tout les jours...si le singe de l'ombre ne lui en veux pas trop.

[trashlord-watson]

en vrai les potos, faut qu'on parle des paroles de "a little bit longer"

je sais qu'on a tou.te.s des big s2 feels avec cette chanson, mais????

"Would you please stay a little bit longer? 'Cause the moment we shared has been so good that I still whisper

qu'est-ce qu'il murmure encore?

I can't handle livin' life whithout feeling love, 'Cause i'm lost and affraid on my own to the grave a journey thanks to you i've just forgot.

eh ça y est y a pas que lui qu'est perdu là. soit il manque des mots, soit fallait faire des phrases différentes enfin jsp poto???

When you say yes when I ask, do you get my life, There's peace up in mind for a second, you and I, is build the same kind.

le boug ne sait pas conjuguer au passé ou bien?? ah non pardon il sait pas conjuguer tout court!!!! j'te jure on dirait que ça a été passé 15x dans google trad là

In the dark of your eyes, appears a star beyond, As the sun in the day, as the moon through the dawn.

je comprends l'image que tu veux transmettre floflo, mais ça va pas. l'étoile peut pas apparaître dans et au delà à la fois. en plus, en général à l'aube la lune bah on la voit plus des masses??

But I still have to pay so you just have to lay, lay, lay, lay, lay, lay baby lay.

........... est-ce qu'on parle d'un rapport sexuel rémunéré???? est-ce que "a little bit longer" parlait de prostitution depuis le début??????

Would you please stay a little bit longer? 'Cause the moment whe shared has been so good, I feel I need an extra hour.

........ apparemment oui en fait???? je suis ptn de choqué

My heart is cold, and gets warm when I'm close to you, And when I climb up the stairs to that sweet paradise, I feel the rise of a beat through the air.

"i feel the rise of a beat through the air" mais de QUOI TU PARLES ????? ptn mec tu peux pas vouloir faire de la grande poésie imagée et dans la même chanson sortir une platitude comme "mon coeur est froid et devient chaud" genre

And I leave ground my life and that concret town,

encore une fois, y a soit un manque de mots soit un manque de ponctuation. ça ne veut RIEN DIRE.

I reach you up there in heaven, I'm in heaven and you are the one, The one, To open the door, To open the door on what's life was for…Me…"

............. est-ce que la prostituée c'est SAINT PIERRE en fait??????

enfin bref, loin de moi l'envie de me transformer en "non mais t'as vu c'que t'écoutes", mais franchement................. HEIN ???????

donc conclusion : oui, je voudrais bien rester 1h de plus, mais seulement dans un contexte de fin de s2 du visiteur du futur, pour qu'on puisse avoir la suite de la discussion sur la turbo branlette MERCIIII

[jean-pierre-fr]

Il n'y aura jamais assez de mots , ni même assez de pensées, pour exprimer l'amour qui transporte mon coeur jusqu'à toi. Il n'y aura jamais assez de jours, ni même assez de nuits, pour combler tous ces moments, où je voudrais être auprès de toi. Mais mon coeur aura toujours et encore, moi contre toi, enlacée dans tes veines. Plus d'amour et d'attentions à t'offrir chaque jour. Mon coeur est trop petit pour contenir, tout l'amour qu'il transporte, mais chaque jour, il en demande encore davantage, pour te l'offrir avec tendresse. De cet amour qui le fait vivre, et le fait battre, jour après jour, un peu plus fort, mon coeur se nourrit, et prend des forces, pour que jamais tu ne manques d'amour.🌸🌷💖🍂

Emmanuelle à Arnaud

There will never be enough words, or even enough thoughts, to express the love that carries my heart to you. There will never be enough days, or even enough nights, to fill all these moments, when I would like to be with you. But my heart will always have, me against you, entwined in your veins. More love and attention to offer you each day. My heart is too small to contain, all the love that it carries, but each day, it asks for more, to offer it to you with tenderness. From this love that makes it live, and makes it beat, day after day, a little stronger, my heart is nourished, and takes strength, so that you never lack love.🌸🌷💖🍂

Emmanuelle à Arnaud

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

You've said you speak French, right? I've tried looking up the lyrics to la vie en rose and I've read the common English translation isn't really accurate, can you give me a more accurate one? The songs this season were really spot-on so I'm curious! :)

Hi! Yeah, I'm fluent in French and I'd be happy to help. La Vie en Rose is a beautiful song but the English translations never really hold a candle to the original. They're nice but they don't hit the same beats.

I'm not a poet so this is gonna be a very direct translation of the verse sung in OFMD.

Quand il me prend dans ses bras - when he takes me in his arms Qu'il me parle tout bas - he whispers to me Je vois la vie en rose - I see 'la vie en rose;' it means 'life in pink' and it's an expression comparable to the expression 'I see through rose-colored glasses' Il me dit des mots d'amour - he tells me words of love Des mots de tous les jours - they're everyday words Mais moi, ça me fait quelque chose - but me, it does something to me Il est entré dans mon cœur - he has entered into my heart Une grande part de bonheur - a great deal of happiness Dont je connais la cause - that I know the reason C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie - in life, it's him for me, me for him Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie - he told me that, he swore that to me for life Et dès que je l'aperçois - and as soon as I see him Alors je sens en moi - I feel inside of me Mon cœur qui bat - my heart beats

It's such a great song and so perfect for Ed and Stede's first time, I think. It's about finding safety and comfort in another person and knowing, swearing that you're it for each other.

[katalinhunter]

Deleterious

The club was dark yet bright lights framed the bar and its tenders, framed the patrons shoulder-to-shoulder, some seated, others propped up by the press of bodies. Voices raised in conversation, in orders, in just trying to be heard amidst the heavy thrum of music. The music was a trance beat, slow and steady, near hypnotic, the singers voice a soft whisper.

Scented fog obscured the dance floor but flashes of lights could be seen here and there. A splash of brightness for effect, a random flicker of flame and another scent added to the mix in the air. The dancing was slow, swaying, erotic for some.

Katalin leaned near the bar, sipping from her drink - rum with a splash of something fizzy and fruity. Despite being dressed to blend in she seemed to have no problems keeping her personal space clear. Her attention was on the dance floor, watching Tawny who was dancing between a married couple, teasing and pressing between them both, flirting with a promise that may or not be followed up on. Somewhere inside was Harle, a familiar presence that had been easy for Katalin to track down.

I don't gotta wait my turn I just fucking turn around If you're not on my fucking team You stay on the fucking ground, bitch

That presence flickered, Tawny's attention finally drawn away from their partners towards Katalin watching, the purple light above the highlander seemed to tremble for a moment. With a lick and shared kiss between the three, Tawny separated from the others and walked over with a casual slink, pausing only to snatch an abandoned drink on the way.

"Heya love, how you doing, what the fuck do you want?"

"Stow it, not here for you Tawny, not really."

"Well I'm all there is babe, so just keep... keep... f-" Tawny seemed to glow just a bit in the mixed light, opalescent. "Oh, hey, sorry, was taking a nap. Figured I'd leave them be, let them enjoy the last of their time here. Vous n'êtes pas venu ici pour moi, n'est-ce pas?"

"Know I did and you know why. What are you doing Harle, why are you here? Hoping to find some answer in their soul fuckery?"

"What? Hells no. Like I said, just giving Tawny their last spin. I don't think it's long now."

You don't really wanna know what I'm about I don't really wanna say it I just wanna cut you out I'm that little fairy bitch

"Look, I know Calico talked to you. Told you there were other options."

"I'm good, no reason to try something risky when I've got what I want right here. Might need to tweak the body just a bit, that'll be new, but otherwise all set. Not suddenly concerned about poor Tawny are you? Maybe this has more to do with a certain dream?"

Katalin paused before answering, sipping from her drink - the rum was good but the mixer was a little too syrupy. Tawny/Harle matched the moment, meeting Katalin's eyes - red reflecting red.

"The dream wasn't even mine and that's a curiosity we can get into later. Right now, you need to get Tawny back home before people a little less kind than me come after."

"Let them try. Let you try."

"Look Calico's right, Verboten's right, you're better than this. Even if Tawny's crap you, we don't do this kind of thing. Come back."

"I DON'T FUCKING WANT TO!"

They told you not to worry 'bout But now all these other bitches Got my name in their mouth Like damn

In the middle of the club there was a sudden surge of aether.

[06605]

Reader being a belly dancer and does a dance for Kylian please🫶🏼

the way you move your hips

pairing : kylian mbappé , reader

genre : fluff, cw : slight implied sex

summary : what the request says

a/n : enjoy, i researched all of this and watched videos trying to get the aspect of belly dancing. hopefully, this suffices.

(lowercase intented)

____

you felt ecstatic as you watched ESPN and learned that kylian scored his 201st goal for PSG in the 4-2 win over nantes.

you were even happier seeing him on the TV, content and celebrating with his friends; regrettably, you were at home and couldn't be there with him. you were recuperating at home.

still, he deserved it. just a little kid from the suburbs of paris to paris's golden boy

to make it up to him, you resolve to perform for him. you're a belly dancer, but he has no idea. you're not sure why you haven't told him yet, but now was the time.

you get up to go to the your shared closet with kylian. rummaging around, you find a plastic storage box filled with items that you'll use.

you discovered a nude colored costume encrusted with gemstones, chains dangling from the hip belt, the skirt low and ending at your ankles with a slit on both sides. you sought for accessories and found golden bracelets.

you dressed up and smoothed out the creases on your skirt. you exited the bedroom and went to retrieve the speaker to attach your phone to for music.

you scrambled around everything cursing yourself under breath because of how many times you tripped under your skirt; knowing that you should've done this earlier before you putted on the costume.

you decide to practice a little before kylian arrives home after obtaining all of the items for this particular performance.

____

you hear the door unlock,

"y/n?" you hear so faintly

the sole light source was provided by the lamps and candles because the lights were turned off. you quickly approached his side, grasped his hand in yours, and dragged him to the main source.

"congratulations, kylian," you reply, peering into his eyes. he examined you from head to toe, his brow arched in perplexity.

confusion quickly evolved to bliss. he put a finger on your hip belt and tugged it, "what's the costume for?"

"i'd like to perform for you; i do belly dancing." i came up with this at the last minute, but i wanted to congratulate you by doing what's been my talent for so long; i'm not sure why i haven't told you yet, but i— just want you to see for yourself." you muttered everything out.

he smiled again, "sure, i would love to see this show."

you told him to sit down, which he did, and you stood in front of him preparing your position.

you pressed play

you gracefully raise your arms and turn your hip forward, attempting to connect with the beat. You closed your eyes and breathed in and out.

you start with a body wave, then lower your hips, feeling the rhythm. you raise your hip and start gyrating your hips quickly, your hip belt producing noises as you go. giving way to the sensation, you spin around and flex your hips.

you wave your arms, attempting to represent the sound and melody. you bended, tucked your hips forward, elevated your stomach, and began executing double hip drops.

you did a step touch by twisting your hips left and right. reiterating the downward movement.

then, continuing swishing your arms, you go slow and steady, picking up the speed.

you went with the flow of the music, and when it ended, you came to a halt. regaining your equilibrium you turn around to face kylian.

"that was really beautiful, y/n" he told, he got up and hands immediately onto your hips.

he planted a kiss on your head, "this is perfect, but I want to add more to it."

you raised your brow in puzzlement, unsure what he meant, his hands are dangerously roving down at your lower back. he spoke quietly into your ear.

tu peux utiliser tes hanches pour moi de plusieurs façons au lit, chérie.

(theres many ways you can use your hips for me in bed, dear.)

he led to you to bed, and you both had a good night.