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#flying french man
reitsportportal · 8 months
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Der "flying french man" Julien Epaillard fliegt im GRAND PRIX AUDI zum Sieg
Vier im Stechen und der Sieg für Julien Epaillard Julien Epaillard und Donatello d’Auge waren das erste Paar im Stechen.  Und auch heute waren sie unglaublich schnell und gingen extrem kurze Wege und flogen fast durch den Stechparcours. Mit einer fehlerfreien Runde in 38,70 Sekunden setzte der “flying french man”   die anderen Stechteilnehmer gehörig unter Druck. Julien Epaillard und Donatello…
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argesta · 2 months
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no one is allowed to tell louis “GIRL GET UP 🗣️” ever again. no one is getting up after this
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me: trying to study
BOC:
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Guysss! I forgot to post these!
😋💖 sky
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Things that both happen in the same episode of doctor who
(content warning for dark humour and references to various morbid topics)
1.A thoughtful and moving depiction of suicidal depression/The Doctor fights a giant invisible chicken
2.An iraq war allegory involving aliens that cut off human skin and wear it/those aliens also fart a lot and laugh about it
3.The Doctor is tortured for billions of years in a metaphor for the incremental nature of moving on from grief/doors are revealed to be canonically sentient and mad at everyone and the doctor makes a psychic link with one
4.The Doctor grapples with the consequences of abandoning his friend because he cannot face the inevitability of her death/aliens make kids into geniuses by feeding them french fries fried in space oil so they can hack into the universe, they are then killed by said french fry oil
5.A man must deal with his loved one's inevitable death from a terminal illness/the doctor flys a sleigh pulled by a flying shark while wearing a santa hat
6.The Doctor accidentally causes his companion to be killed then brought back only to be trapped in a dystopia for ten years mutilated and dehumanized/missy dabs
7.The endpoint of the human race is revealed to be them mutilating themselves putting their heads in spheres and sadistically murdering other humans for fun/The Doctor becomes tinkerbell jesus
8.The Doctor admits that he's seen so many people die that he's lost count and become numb to it/the villains evil plan revolves around burning a sea monsters poop as fuel
9.The Doctor grapples with the ethical implications of the death penalty/a farting alien tries to blow up a town and then escape on a space surfboard
10.The Doctor abandons his companion for 30 years and then erases a version of her from existence against her will/a robot is killed by getting hit on the head by a replica of the mona lisa
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ham1lton · 3 months
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just a normal girl.
pairings: charles leclerc x comedienne!reader.
summary: just a normal girl is a stand-up netflix comedy special performed by actress and comedienne y/n l/n in which she discusses her childhood, her horrible first meeting with her boyfriend and being a twenty something in london.
author’s note: based on that one anon’s dream but i changed it up slightly! also eid mubarak to all my muslim followers celebrating today! this is for you <3 i also have a new taglist so please help me out by filling it if you’d like to be tagged in future works!
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JUST A NORMAL GIRL TRANSCRIPT.
Y/N L/N: so, charles decides to take me shopping. fancy, right? we walk into this chic little boutique and, surprise, the shopkeeper only speaks french. now, i don’t speak french. at all. my entire french vocabulary consists of 'oui' and 'croissant.' meanwhile, charles is chatting away like he’s in a romance film, all suave and shit.
[audience laughs]
Y/N L/N: and there i am, standing there, smiling and nodding like i understand every word. for all i knew, charles could be telling the guy, 'this is my new project. she thinks monaco is in morocco. and i’ve been dared to make her over like that one freddie prinze jr film.' and i’m just like, 'yes, absolutely. très bien.’
[audience laughs harder]
Y/N L/N: so charles is chatting to the guy in french as they go through the boutique and he inevitably finds this gorgeous dress. he hands it to me, all excited, like ‘try it on! you’ll look stunning’ and i look at the price tag. why was this dress more than my rent? for that price the dress needs to fill my fridge, put shelter over my head and fly like a magic carpet.
Y/N L/N: i exit the changing room, because when a cute guy asks me to do something… i can’t say no. i can’t help it! i can’t say no to pretty faces!
[audience laughs]
Y/N L/N: charles is looking at me in this dress like i’m an angel from above and i’m calculating the amount of ramen noodles i’ll have to buy to smooth over my overdraft. maybe if i wear it every day for the next sixty five years, it’ll work itself out? then charles chats to the shopkeeper and points at me and then at charles and i’m thinking… what the hell are they saying about me. he’s probably telling charles ‘this girl is not for you. she’s very clueless and can’t handle the high life you are accustomed to’.
[audience boos the shopkeeper]
Y/N L/N: oh no, don’t boo him. he was right. i was clueless and unable to handle the high life. charles looks at me smiling like ‘should we get the dress?’. on the inside i’m like, NOOOOOOOOOOOO but on the outside i’m like, oh sure, yeah, why not. but he rings it up and says ‘that’ll be 32,489 euros please’ and i want to die. but then charles just hands over his card and i remember… i’m dating a guy who probably earns my life savings in a day. life goals, am i right ladies?
[the ladies in the audience cheer]
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liked by netflix, charles_leclerc and 483,938 others.
yourusername: tfw your netflix special is number one for two weeks so ur man buys u two flower bouquets. guys get please me to three so i can get another <3
also i have had a recent influx of followers? so hi. i’m y/n, i act and i think i’m funny sometimes. if you’ve watched my netflix special? mwah <- that’s me kissing your forehead.
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charles_leclerc: not you cheating on me in your caption ☹️🙁
-> yourusername: sorry you had to find out this way <3
user1: omg is she muslim?? and a hijabi??
-> user2: finding yn… inshallah they find her.
user4: NOOOO HE’S TAKEN….
-> user4: BY A BADDIE TOO…. NOOOOO
maxverstappen1: made a netflix account to watch you and it was good! 👍🏻
-> yourusername: thank you user maxverstappen1. always appreciate the support from grassroots fans such as yourself.
arthur_leclerc: wait was the kidnapping story real?
-> yourusername: obviously! i have never lied in a comedy special. exaggerated, perhaps, but never lied! what sort of woman do you take me for?
user6: why can’t we see your face in any of these pics?
-> yourusername: because you can see my face on netflix in hd in my new comedy special - just a normal girl :)
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JUST A NORMAL GIRL TRANSCRIPT.
[spotlight on y/n l/n standing center stage, audience is attentive]
Y/N L/N: the first time charles invited me to a formula 1 race. i know, right? fancy! i mean, i usually spend my weekends binge-watching netflix in my pajamas, and suddenly, i’m in the vip section at a grand prix. talk about a plot twist.
[audience laughs]
Y/N L/N: so, we get there, and i'm already feeling out of place. everyone is dressed to the nines in designer outfits, and i’m wearing the only fancy dress i own, which is basically just a black dress i got on sale at h&m. but i’m trying to fit in, pretending i know what’s going on. spoiler alert: i have no idea what’s going on.
[audience laughs louder]
Y/N L/N: charles is introducing me to all these important people, and they’re all speaking this mix of french, italian, and who-knows-what. and i'm just standing there, smiling and nodding, because that’s my default mode in these situations.
[audience laughs]
Y/N L/N: then, charles introduces me to his team, and they start explaining all these technical details about the car. and i’m thinking, 'wow, this is fascinating,' but honestly, it sounds like they’re speaking another language. they could be telling me the car runs on unicorn tears, and i’d just nod along, 'ah yes, absolutely. unicorn tears. very efficient. not very sustainable though….’
[audience laughs]
Y/N L/N: alright, so while we’re on the topic of my boyfriend, let me tell you about the time my family found out i was dating a rich formula one driver. you’d think they’d be excited for me, proud even. but no, my family? they just saw dollar signs.
Y/N L/N: so, i’m visiting my family for the holidays, and everything is going well. we’re having dinner, catching up, and then my aunt, bless her heart, leans over and whispers, 'is it true? are you really dating a formula one driver?' and i’m like, 'well yes, aunt sarah, it’s true.'
Y/N L/N: now, my family is not subtle. at all. within minutes, it’s like they’ve formed a council of war. my uncle pulls out his phone and starts googling charles. my mom is like, 'how much money does he make?' and my dad is suddenly very interested in the price of sports cars.
Y/N L/N: i’m sitting there, trying to eat my mashed potatoes, and they’re plotting how to get charles to invest in my cousin’s failed business. my cousin, who once tried to sell homemade kombucha and ended up giving half the neighbourhood food poisoning. that cousin.
[audience laughs heartily]
Y/N L/N: my brother, always the opportunist, chimes in with, 'hey, maybe he can get us a discount on a new ferrari!' like it’s a shein code that you can input on the website and i’m just sinking lower in my chair, wishing i could disappear.
Y/N L/N: so, i finally snap. i stand up and say, 'look, i know i’m broke, but i’m fine. i don’t need to use charles as an atm. he’s not a walking bank account, he’s a person.' and they’re all just staring at me, like i’ve grown two heads.
Y/N L/N: then my grandma, who hasn’t said a word all night, just quietly stands up and says, 'well, if he’s that rich, maybe he could at least buy us a new dishwasher. the old one is on its last legs.' and i’m like, 'seriously, grandma?'
[audience laughs louder]
Y/N L/N: but you know, through all this, charles has been amazing. he’s patient, understanding, and he never makes me feel bad about my financial situation. i’m broke, but i’m fine. and honestly, i think that’s what makes us work. i keep him grounded, and he... well, he reminds me that sometimes, it’s okay to splurge on the extras.
[audience cheers and applauds]
Y/N L/N: but here’s the thing about dating someone like charles. the highs are incredible, but there are lows too. there are moments when you feel like you’re in a fairy tale, and then there are times when reality hits you hard. like, after that amazing day at the race, we got home and charles was still buzzing from the win. and i… i was just exhausted.
[audience quiets down, listening intently]
Y/N L/N: i remember lying in bed that night, charles fast asleep beside me, and i couldn’t help but think about how different our worlds are. he’s out there living his dream, racing cars and traveling the world, and i’m just trying to keep up, trying to fit into a life that sometimes feels so foreign to me.
Y/N L/N: it’s hard, you know? being with someone who’s so extraordinary when you feel so ordinary. there’s this constant fear that one day he’ll wake up and realize he deserves someone who belongs in his world, someone who isn’t just pretending.
[audience is silent, reflective]
Y/N L/N: but then i look at him, and i see how much he loves me, how he looks at me like i’m the only person in the room, and for a moment, all those doubts fade away. because maybe, just maybe, being a normal girl is exactly what he needs in his extraordinary life.
[audience applauds softly]
Y/N L/N: thank you for listening, everyone. you've been amazing! enjoy the rest of your night. i know i will!
[spotlight dims, y/n exits to a heartfelt applause]
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liked by ynwifey, f1wags and 587,828 others.
yourusername: birds of a feather, we should stick together 🎶
tagged: @charles_leclerc
view all 34,937 comments
user1: SHES SO PRETTY
-> user4: BADDEST BITCH
user9: mashallah sis! you look gorgeous :)
*liked by yourusername.*
user10: a billie fan!!!! omg!!
user89: charlesyn is so cute. funny gf x pretty bf.
-> user12: the way she is also pretty gf but he isn’t funny bf 😔
landonorris: no one wants to see happy couples on the timeline thanks x
-> yourusername: unfollow me x
-> landonorris: but who will make me laugh then 😔
-> yourusername: knock knock 😋
-> landonorris: who’s there 😁
-> yourusername: single 🙀
-> landonorris: single who? 🤨
-> yourusername: single you! still waiting for a punchline and a date 😊
-> landonorris: 😔
-> randomstalkerfan1: i’ll date you lando! :D
-> landonorris: would rather stay single thanks x
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blueberrycig · 2 months
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dilf art please save me dilf art
i can’t stop thinking abt sugar daddy!art feeling so fucking filthy that he has access to your body at any time.  18+
cw: exhibitionism, somno
your soft bare feet roam his grand home delighting in his riches like you own it. post training, he’ll join you in the pool after you’ve had a long day of being pampered and doted on. he’ll make sure to send the best masseuses, dermatologists, personal trainers, nail artists, you fucking name it, to the house in his absence to maintain how perfect you are for him. you’re so smooth and radiant all the time, with no expectations other than just being yourself. he has people on payroll to do the rest of it.  
he’ll fuck up into you sat on the steps of the pool after placing you roughly on his lap, and your unholy moans fill the sky as maids and personal chefs scurry around the house to make sure everything is perfect for your return inside. he’s obsessed with how you’ve made him lose all inhibitions, not giving a shit about who’s around him or where you are anymore.
he doesn’t want you to lift a finger. just to sit pretty and enjoy the finer things in life, he’ll feed you delicacies from the edge of the earth, drape you with the most expensive materials. he’ll die a happy man with you clambering on top of him like you do, clinging onto his wide shoulders, inhaling his scent in. he’ll thrust into you deeply while shoving your face into the velvet of the couch. your ass will be up for his pleasure, thumbs pressing into your lower back and you’ll drip like honey around his gorgeous thick cock, “who makes you feel this good, huh?” he’ll throw a million dollars into the fireplace that looms over you both just to keep you warm. 
he’ll win games just to drown you in gifts, hitting balls harder with the thought of your pussy behind each serve. he can’t wait to fly home to his sweet girl who feels physically nauseous and deprived of his touch. you keep yourself busy, stealing facetimes from him whenever you can while he’s on tour, letting him mutter how he’s going to ruin you when he’s home. you dip french-manicured fingers into yourself, drenched at the sound of his voice and how it caresses the goosebumps on your body. “please come home, baby, i need you.”
he’s fresh off a red-eye flight when he returns to you, fast asleep, looking so peaceful and unharmed by the world. as long as you’re his, you’ll experience this every night. you’re naked as he slots behind you after his shower, wearing nothing but perfume and cartier resting between your breasts. he can't wait to show you what he's brought you from paris.
you smell like the sweetest pears and creamy vanilla gelato and he’s sure to savour the scent as he runs his nose from your neck, down to your shoulder. he familiarises himself with the silk of your skin, his large hands, rough and strained from an intense open, greedily roam your smooth thighs. 
his dick grows hard at how supple and untarnished you are. pure, clean, polished. 
he’ll push your leg up and plunge himself into your warm, waiting hole. you stir, waking up a little from the sudden movement in and around you, all he’ll have to say is “shh, baby. it’s just me. shhhh…” 
you relax your head back into his hard chest, drowning in the scent of strong soap from his shower. you mumble sleepy words of babble, happy that he’s home, and all he does is shush you softly back to bed. that you need your sleep to stay so lovely. you listen to him as he’s the only one who knows what’s best for you. 
he gently thrusts into you, in and out, in and out. you drift back into the night. your pussy is so nice and warm for him, washing his body with heat as he smothers your neck with his hot open mouth. he massages your tits, rolling your nipples as you make pretty little noises in your slumber.
you dream of him fucking you somewhere far up in a romantic sky, cushioned by cotton candy clouds and his tongue tasting of strawberry.
you squeeze around his cock, cumming twice as hard around the perfect man who takes care of you in every reality.
part two of this ig
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pucksandpower · 6 months
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Something Sweet
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: the story of your relationship … as told through gelato (in honor of Charles opening an ice cream shop)
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The warm spring sun beats down on your face as you stroll along the winding streets of Monaco, gelato in hand. You savor each sweet bite, the rich hazelnutty flavor melting across your tongue.
This is bliss.
You just moved here to attend university and every day feels like a dream come true exploring your new home principality.
The picturesque buildings with their sun-baked stucco walls and colorful tiled roofs line the narrow alleyways. Locals bustle about, chatting rapidly in French as scooters whiz by. The air carries a tang of salt from the glittering Mediterranean just beyond the palace ramparts.
You could get used to this.
Suddenly, a body careens around the corner, slamming right into you. You stumble backward as the gelato goes flying, splattering across the quaint cobblestones in a sticky mess.
“Oh mon dieu, I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” A frantic voice rings out as a pair of strong hands steady you before you can topple over completely.
You look up, slightly dazed, into a pair of warm green eyes filled with concern. The man is clad in athletic shorts and a snug t-shirt, damp with sweat from an obvious run. Tousled chestnut hair flops across his forehead in an effortlessly tousled way.
He’s … incredibly handsome.
Like, stupid levels of handsome.
“I’m fine, really,” you stammer out, feeling your cheeks flush as his hands linger almost ... protectively on your arms. “Just clumsy me dropping my gelato.”
He grimaces, following your gaze to the melting puddle. “I’m such an idiot, let me replace that for you.” His face is the picture of remorse as he gently releases his grip.
You wave him off with an awkward chuckle. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal ...”
But he’s already shaking his head adamantly. “No, no I insist. That looked delicious and it’s entirely my fault.” He shoots you a lopsided grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “I know this amazing little place that makes the best gelato in Monaco. My treat to make up for barreling into you like that.”
You can’t help but be charmed by his earnestness as you nod slowly in acceptance. “Well, when you put it like that ...”
“Perfect!” He beams at you, that bright smile crinkling the corners of his eyes in the most delightful way. “I’m Charles, by the way.”
You introduce yourself as well as Charles begins leading you deeper into the winding backstreets, clearly knowing exactly where he’s going. You can’t help stealing sidelong glances at him as you walk, admiring the strong muscles of his arms and shoulders visible through his fitted shirt.
Finally, he ducks into a tiny alleyway, stopping before an unassuming doorway you surely would have just passed right by. A faded sign hangs above reading Gelatomania in curling script.
“This place is my favorite,” Charles confides in a conspiratorial murmur as he holds the door for you. “Family-run for generations and miles better than any of the touristy places.”
You step inside and are immediately enveloped in a thick, sugary aroma that makes your mouth water. A few little metal tables with rickety chairs are squeezed into the compact space, but it’s the immaculate glass cases lining the walls that draw your eye.
Filled with every flavor imaginable, the gelato looks utterly divine — from naturally green pistachio to decadent chocolate hazelnut to tangy lemon. An older woman with a grandmotherly face greets Charles like an old friend in rapid Italian from behind the counter.
He responds easily in kind before turning back to you. “What’ll it be? I recommend the hazelnut again if you liked your first one.”
You nod and watch, utterly charmed, as Charles places your order for a fresh hazelnut gelato with a deferential “per favore” and that knee-weakening smile of his. He gets a simple vanilla for himself before paying and leading you over to a little iron table outside in a sliver of sunshine.
You take your first bite and … oh my god. This is gelato from the heavens themselves. You can’t contain the downright blissful moan that escapes your lips as the divinely creamy, rich concoction melts across your tongue.
“Good, right?” Charles looks incredibly pleased at your rapturous reaction as he digs into his own treat with gusto.
“This might be the single most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” you admit fervently between increasingly enthusiastic licks and bites. “How have I survived this long without knowing this place existed?”
Charles throws his head back with a full-bellied laugh at your passionate proclamation. God, even his laugh is unfairly attractive ...
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he grins around a mouthful of velvety vanilla. “I’ve been coming here since before I could walk. Quickly became my favorite gelato spot.”
“You’ve lived here a while then?” You ask between savoring bites of the impossibly luscious confection. “I only just moved for university.”
Charles nods as he licks a stray drip from his thumb. “Yeah, born and raised a few streets over actually.”
There’s a slight lull as you both focus on thoroughly demolishing your gelato for a few contented minutes, exchanging occasional muffled hums of sheer delight. The warm sun filtering through the awning casts a soft golden glow over the little alleyway, lending everything a dreamlike haze of perfection.
“So beyond being from here, do you have any exciting hobbies or interests?” You ask eventually, dragging the conversation back into the open.
“Well ...” Charles’ expression morphs into one of almost sheepish amusement as he leans back in his rickety chair. “You could say my hobby is also kind of my job. I’m actually a Formula 1 driver, believe it or not.”
You damn near choke on your next bite as his words register. “You’re what? As in ... a race car driver? In Formula 1? Seriously?”
There’s no way this stunning man is being truthful. Sure, he looks like he could be some kind of athlete with that perfectly toned physique. But a literal professional race car driver? The thought is almost too crazy to be believed.
Charles just laughs again at your dumbfounded reaction, clearly used to this response as he nods. “Seriously! I compete for Ferrari if you follow the races at all?”
You think you might pass out from shock as everything clicks into place — the athletic build, the way people seemed to stare as he passed them on the street, the laid-back confidence and easy smile of someone incredibly comfortable in their own skin ...
“Oh my god, you’re ... you’re Charles freaking Leclerc, aren’t you?” You gape at him in abject disbelief. “As in, the guy literally plastered on the huge billboard across from my apartment? Leading the championship? Incredibly talented and famous?”
He lets out an almost bashful chuckle at your rapid-fire incredulous questioning, shrugging one broad shoulder. “Well, I don’t know about incredibly talented or famous. But yes, that’s me — just your average local race car driver currently making an absolute mess while eating gelato.”
Here you sit, having just shared an utterly divine dessert while shamelessly ogling one of the most popular and well-known athletes in the damn world … and he’s acting like it’s absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Like you’re just two regular people enjoying a sweet treat together on a sunny day.
“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation right now,” you murmur, shaking your head slowly. “Do you have any idea how many people would kill to literally just ... sit across from you like this while you eat mediocre gas station ice cream, much less the world’s best gelato? I’m … stunned you’re so nonchalant about this whole thing.”
Charles merely flashes you a self-deprecating grin as he pops the last bite of cone into his mouth. “Well, to me you’re not some screaming fangirl, but just a lovely new friend I enjoy gelato with. Though my ego certainly appreciates the compliments.”
He winks at you impishly and you feel an unwitting smile tugging at the corners of your own lips despite your lingering disbelief. You suppose being surrounded by such incredible wealth and luxury every day in Monaco, Charles likely doesn’t register it anymore. Not to mention the clearly down-to-earth personality he seems to possess given that genuine humility.
The hours just seem to slip effortlessly by then as the two of you continue to chat and laugh and bask in the perfect afternoon contentment of the moment. Charles regales you with ridiculous behind-the-scenes stories about increasingly crazy bets with his friends and crew during the season. You share equally hilarious tales of your own coming-of-age mishaps as an overeager teenager.
At some point, you both reach for your long-empty dishes simultaneously, fingers brushing in a spark of contact that sends your pulse stuttering. Charles doesn’t pull back, letting his hand linger outrageously close to yours as his warm gaze stays locked intensely on your face.
You try to swallow past a suddenly dry throat as the atmosphere shifts abruptly, suddenly heavy with the hot crackle of unmistakable chemistry and unspoken tension. But then, just like that, the moment passes as quickly as it came.
Your phone buzzes loudly in your pocket with a text, the notification startling you both back to reality. Charles sits back, clearing his throat slightly as you pull your hand away to quickly check the message.
It’s from your roommate asking when you’ll be home for dinner and if you need her to start cooking.
You glance up at Charles with an apologetic grimace. “I should probably head back. I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten.”
He blinks rapidly before seeming to visibly shake himself. “Right, of course! Time really got away from us, didn’t it?”
You stand as Charles rises smoothly to his feet as well, shoving both hands casually in his pockets. “So ... I had a really great time with you today,” he says carefully, something almost hesitant flickering across his face. “And I’d love a chance to take you out again sometime soon, if you’re interested? Maybe grab dinner when I’m back in town?”
Your breath catches in your throat at the unmistakable request for an actual date. With Charles freaking Leclerc no less ...
Tamping down your sudden nerves, you nod slowly as a shy smile blossoms on your lips. “I’d really like that,” you admit truthfully. “Let’s definitely do dinner whenever you’re free.”
His whole expression brightens immediately at your affirmation, lips stretching in a wide grin of pure delight. “Perfect! I’ll be back from my next race in just over a week then. How about exchanging numbers so I can let you know as soon as I’ve returned?”
You quickly rattle off your number as Charles punches it into his phone before doing the same for you. As if sealing some unspoken deal, he sticks out his hand to shake yours, that warm roughened grip lingering perhaps a moment longer than strictly necessary.
“I’ll text you soon then,” Charles murmurs intently, that spark of heat flickering in his eyes again. “Promise me you’ll say yes this time.”
You can only nod mutely, mouth gone bone-dry at the pointed words and heated look washing over you. Charles maintains that blistering eye contact and heart-stalling grip on your palm for another loaded handful of seconds, leaving you dizzy with giddy anticipation.
Then, just like that, he releases your hand with one final squeeze before taking a step back, seemingly satisfied by your stunned agreement. Charles shoots you one last lingering look and crooked grin before turning to stride easily back the way you came.
You remain rooted in place for a long moment, utterly dazed by the entire surreal scenario as you watch his broad shoulders and narrow waist disappear down the narrow alleyway.
Today started out as any other nothing-out-of-the-ordinary spring day in your new home. But now … now you have an actual date scheduled with an unbelievably charming and disarmingly down-to-earth racing superstar.
A giddy giggle bubbles up from deep in your chest as reality finally settles in. Who could have ever predicted that bumping into your new acquaintance — quite literally — would lead to not only discovering the most heavenly gelato on the planet, but lining up a date with an internationally famous athlete?
Suddenly, your bright future studying in Monaco just got about ten thousand times more interesting …
***
The week passes by in a blur of anticipation after your initial meeting with Charles. You can barely focus during lectures, your mind constantly wandering to that charming grin and those warm eyes crinkling at the corners whenever he laughed.
Finally, the evening you’ve been eagerly awaiting arrives. You’ve just finished getting ready — pulling on a flowy sundress and brushing out your hair one last time — when your phone buzzes with a new text.
I’m outside whenever you’re ready for our date night. Looking forward to seeing you again 😘
You can’t bite back your giddy smile as you quickly reply that you’re heading out before taking one last steadying breath.
It’s just Charles … the internationally famous and absurdly handsome Formula 1 driver you’ve somehow managed to snag a date with.
No big deal at all.
The evening air carries a pleasantly cool breeze as you exit your apartment building, scanning the idling line of vehicles for Charles’ car. You spot him immediately, leaning against the gleaming metallic side of what you now recognize as an eye-wateringly expensive Ferrari.
Charles looks … unfairly gorgeous. He’s shed his athletic wear in favor of a simple white linen shirt and tailored slacks that somehow make him appear even more effortlessly suave. His hair is artfully tousled and damn if those clothes don’t accentuate every hard plane and corded muscle of his built frame.
You must be staring because suddenly Charles is pushing off from the car and straightening to his full height, those intense eyes crinkling warmly as soon as they land on you.
“You look stunning,” he murmurs appreciatively once you’ve drawn closer, making a show of trailing his gaze slowly up and down your figure. You’re abruptly grateful for the dusky twilight hiding your furious blush at the blatant admiration in his tone.
“Thanks,” you manage to get out without your voice shaking too noticeably. “You don’t look half bad yourself, race car man.”
Charles throws back his head with one of those deep-bellied laughs you’re quickly becoming addicted to. “Why thank you, gelato girl.” He shoots you a wink before surprising you by gallantly offering his arm. “Shall we?”
You take it without hesitation, reveling in the solid warmth of his bicep pressed against your side as Charles leads you to the waiting glossy black sports car. He opens the door for you like an old-fashioned gentleman, closing it carefully once you’re tucked inside the buttery leather interior.
The engine roars to life with a powerful rumble and you can’t resist shooting Charles an impressed look as he deftly maneuvers out onto the street.
“You know, I’m starting to think this little hobby of yours might not be too bad of a gig,” you tease lightly, waving a hand at the sleek interior compartment.
“I can’t complain,” Charles volleys back with a crooked grin, seamlessly navigating the tight turns of the old city. “Sometimes they even let me drive in circles really fast just for fun.”
You roll your eyes at his retort, but can’t quite wipe the smile off your face as Charles guns the engine, the car surging forward in a burst of speed and power. Clearly the man knows how to leverage any opportunity to show off those expert driving skills … not that you mind one bit.
Eventually, Charles pulls up in front of an unassuming doorway you never would have noticed tucked down a quiet side street. The understated sign above simply reads Trattoria Giovanni.
“This place has been run by the same Italian family for over fifty years,” Charles explains as he holds the door for you. “Best authentic cuisine in the city, but you would never find it unless you knew where to look.”
The interior appears to have been plucked directly from a rustic Tuscan villa — burnished wooden beams criss-crossing the curved ceilings and terracotta tiles underfoot. You breathe in deeply, savoring the mouthwatering aromas of garlic, tomato sauce, and fresh bread wafting from the open kitchen.
An older man with a thick mustache and crisp white apron greets Charles immediately in fluent Italian, ushering you both back to a cozy alcove table secluded in the very rear. He pours you both generous glasses of deep red wine before disappearing again with a conspiratorial wink in your direction.
“So, how was your race?” You ask between sips once you and Charles are alone, genuinely curious about the difficult career he’s managed to carve out.
He shrugs one broad shoulder almost dismissively. “Decent enough, I suppose. Grabbed another podium finish, but didn’t quite have the pace for the win.” There’s no disappointment or frustration in his tone as he speaks, just a simple statement of fact.
“I’m endlessly in awe that you treat accomplishments like that so casually,” you admit with a shake of your head. “Finishing in the top three in Formula 1 seems like the kind of thing most people would be over the moon about.”
Charles lets out a low chuckle at that, leaning towards you over the small table with eyes twinkling mischievously. “Well maybe I need to find a new way to impress someone like you then.”
You open your mouth to respond with a playful retort of your own, but Charles’ gaze has already strayed to somewhere past your shoulder.
“Ah, perfect timing then. Here’s Giovanni himself with our orders.”
Sure enough, the older man you spotted earlier bustles up with a tray overflowing with piping hot plates of food. He doles out the dishes methodically while rattling off a stream of explanations about preparations and ingredients that have clearly been passed down for many generations.
Everything looks and smells utterly divine — from the heaping bowl of glistening spaghetti blanketed in a simmering tomato sauce to the golden-baked chicken drenched in rosemary and olive oil. The endlessly affable Giovanni even sets down a small ceramic dish full of creamy pale cheese, patting Charles on the shoulder.
“The burrata for you and your lady friend. Freshly made this morning by my wife,” he declares proudly before whisking himself away again.
For the next blissful hour or two, you and Charles completely lose yourselves in this veritable feast for the senses. You savor each and every decadent bite — moaning around the pillowy strands of spaghetti and tearing off chunks of the crusty, herb-brushed breads to soak up the savory juices.
Charles, for his part, dives into the meal with just as much enthusiasm, occasionally reaching over to snag a bite off of your plate until you resort to smacking his wandering fork away between fits of laughter.
Stuffed and utterly content, you both eventually push away your long-cleared dishes to nurse the final sips of your wine as the evening stretches languorously on. You fall into these simple moments like an old habit by now — trading comfortable silences and contented looks between impassioned recounts of childhood anecdotes or musings about life.
Finally, as the candles on the small wooden tables begin to gutter and wane, Charles summons over your waiter to settle the check with a few murmured words and one of those knee-weakening smiles. Rising smoothly, he extends his hand in a wordless invitation for you to join him back out into the balmy evening.
This time, instead of heading for the car, Charles tucks your hand into the crook of his elbow before choosing a new direction — down a maze of narrow streets until you finally emerge along the harbor’s edge. Strings of twinkling lights reflect off the lapping waves while the soft strains of background music filter out from somewhere nearby.
“Feel like grabbing a little dessert to walk off that incredible meal?” Charles asks in a low murmur, bumping your shoulder conspiratorially.
You shoot him an incredulous look even as you nod. “You mean in addition to the literal feast we both just had?”
Charles tugs you closer to his side until your hips graze together as you match strides. “There’s always room for gelato,” he counters with an arched brow. “Besides, when in Monaco ...”
Any further protests die on your lips as Charles guides you around another tight corner to reveal that familiar cheerful gelato shop from your initial meeting. The old woman behind the counter greets you both like regulars already, no doubt thanks to Charles’ frequent patronage.
You maneuver through the small line until it’s your turn to order. “I think I’ll go with the tiramisu flavor this time,” you decide, mouth already watering at the prospect of that rich coffee and creamy goodness. “What about you? Mixing it up or still sticking with the basics?”
Charles shakes his head resolutely as he hands over a few crisp bills to pay for your treats. “Trust me, a heaping helping of simple vanilla is just as gratifying as all those overly complicated flavor combinations.”
You balk at his slander, bumping his shoulder with your own without any real heat. “How dare you insult my incredible palette like that?” You glare at him in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I have some of the most refined gelato taste in all of Monaco now.”
“Oh yeah?” Charles tips his chin down with a challenging smirk twisting his full lips. “Well what if I told you that vanilla is scientifically proven to be the most popular and beloved flavor in existence?”
“By who? Basic boring people?” You volley back mercilessly, eagerly leaning into the playful banter now. “If anything, those findings just demonstrated how sadly uncreative society at large is.”
Charles barks out a booming laugh as he grabs your hand and tugs you back out of the shop, gelato in the other. “You heathen! We’re clearly going to need to educate you on the finer points of flavor appreciation.”
Your eyes narrow dangerously even as you let yourself be lead to a nearby bench overlooking the gently lapping waves. “Oh, you’re on, Leclerc. Let’s see if your vanilla snobbery holds up after a taste of tiramisu heaven.”
You scoop up an exaggeratedly generous spoonful of the divinely rich, creamy gelato and make a show of savoring it with overstated moans of delight. “Oh my god, this is so good. Here, you have to try this! It’s life-changing.”
Charles wrinkles his nose even as you wave the spoonful enticingly in front of him. “Nice try but I would never cheat on vanilla!”
The two of you devolve into helpless laughter at that point, dissolving into breathless giggles over the ridiculous debate getting more outrageous by the minute. Finally, you relent in the battle, settling back into the cool metal of the bench and turning your face up to the inky sea of stars glittering overhead.
“You’re right though — sometimes simple really is best,” you admit finally in a softer tone, slowly licking another sweet bite off your spoon.
Charles hums in agreement next to you, shuffling closer until your arms brush together with body heat and contact. “The classics never go out of style.”
The next comfortable silence stretches out between you as you take your time savoring your treats while simultaneously drinking in the breathtaking view laid out before you. The water laps almost hypnotically at the shoreline, twinkling reflection of docked yachts bobbing gently on the calm surface.
A breeze skates across your bare arms, raising a faint ripple of goosebumps along your skin. Charles notices immediately, shifting even nearer until he can shrug out of the lightweight jacket he had been wearing.
Without a word, he swings the soft fabric around your shoulders, tucking it securely around your front. You burrow instinctively into the material, the lingering body heat and remnants of his cologne wrapping you up in an cocoon of soothing warmth and intoxicating comfort.
With your free hand, you toy idly with the collar until Charles’ arm comes up to curl around your shoulders, effectively enveloping you into his solid frame. You let your cheek tip onto the firm muscle of his arm as Charles squeezes you closer with a contented exhale.
Time becomes meaningless suspended in that perfect sea-side bubble, waves flowing rhythmically while you enjoy every last savored bite of your melting treats. You let the quiet inevitability of dropping your head onto Charles’ shoulder wash over you, his familiar cologne invading your senses until your entire world narrows to just him.
When Charles polishes off the final bite of his cone and you go to shift away, another cool gust skitters across the harbor. He tightens the arm curved around you, making no move to let you up or leave the cozy haven you’ve made.
“I could get used to evenings like this, you know,” he murmurs eventually, lips brushing the top of your head. “Just taking it slow and savoring each other’s company without a single worry or care beyond where to find the best gelato.”
You hum in sleepy agreement, luxuriating in the casual intimacy of having Charles wrapped so protectively around you. Part of you can scarcely believe how instantaneous and natural this connection has blossomed between you already. But another part feels like you’ve finally found your soul’s missing piece slotting seamlessly into place after stumbling around lost and incomplete for so long without ever realizing it.
The two of you remain suspended in that perfect, tranquil bubble for what could be minutes or hours more. You’ve completely lost track of any sense of time beyond the lullaby of the gentle waves and occasional murmur of Charles’ breathing ruffling your hair.
Eventually though, his stirring signals a slow return to the real world as Charles regretfully extricates himself from your entwined position with clear reluctance.
“I should probably get you back before your roommate starts to worry,” he says remorsefully as he slides off the bench to offer you a steadying hand up.
You accept it without hesitation, but can’t resist clinging to his jacket still cocooned around your shoulders, unwilling to shrug off that lingering cocoon of comfort and safety just yet. Charles notices, allowing a tiny grin to quirk one side of his mouth upwards as he takes in your refusal to part with it.
“Looks good on you,” he murmurs with unmistakable heat in those hypnotizing eyes. “I may have to let you hang on to that one for a while.”
Your mouth goes abruptly dry at the blatant implications in his tone, but you manage a coy smile in return as you turn to make your way back towards wherever Charles has his car crookedly parked.
The streets are all but abandoned by the time you arrive at the discreet entrance of your apartment building. Charles hesitates a split second before rounding the front of the gleaming Ferrari to face you properly on the quiet sidewalk.
“Thank you for an incredible evening,” you say honestly, gazing up at his silhouette in the dim glow of the streetlamps. “I don’t think I can even put into words how special you’ve managed to make me feel these past couple weeks.”
His expression softens instantly. One calloused palm comes up to tenderly cup your jaw, tilting your face up towards his with feather-light reverence.
“The pleasure has been all mine, I assure you,” Charles rumbles in a low tone that steals your breath away. “I don’t think you’ll ever realize just how remarkable you are, ma belle.”
Your eyes flutter shut without conscious thought as his nose brushes yours. Charles’ lips glide torturously against your cheek leaving a blazing trail to the very corner of your mouth.
The softest, most infinitely gentle press of satin flesh on flesh and then he’s pulling back — his ragged exhale warm and intoxicating against your tingling lips. You chase his retreat on instinct, but Charles is already withdrawing further with clear reluctance.
“I’m afraid I don’t trust myself to take things slow quite yet if I stay,” he murmurs in a strained rasp, pupils blown wide and dark. “But I do hope you’ll allow me to make this our new gelato tradition from now on ...”
It takes you several faltering attempts to find your voice again, chest rising and falling rapidly in the aftermath of that lightning bolt of affection. Finally, you manage a jerky nod, sliding one trembling hand over his where it still cups your cheek.
“I want that more than anything,” you confess in a hushed tone. “Just ... promise me we’ll see each other soon.”
He releases a shuddering breath of unbridled relief, dipping his forehead to rest against yours. “Soon,” Charles vows lowly. “I promise.”
You stare up into his earnest eyes. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Charles’ lips quirk in that lopsided grin you already adore so much. “I’m counting on it.”
With obvious reluctance, he finally steps away, snagging your hand to press one last searing kiss to your knuckles that has your heart stuttering all over again. Charles holds your gaze as you carefully back away towards the entrance, unwilling or unable to fully turn your back until the very last moment.
You chance a glance over your shoulder as you reach the front doors. Charles is still there, unmoving in a pool of streetlight beside his idling Ferrari, hands shoved in his pockets as he tracks your every step until you’ve slipped safely inside.
Exhaling a shuddering breath, you lean back against the cool stone wall, fingers coming up to ghost across your still-tingling lips almost disbelievingly.
When you finally muster the courage to peek through the glass once more, Charles has moved to lean against the side of his car, head tilted back as he stares into the lobby with an unmistakable softness etched across those chiseled features.
You can’t resist pressing your palm to the pane in a gesture you know he’ll recognize. Sure enough, Charles’ intense gaze instantly snaps to lock on you from across the quiet street, expression melting into pure adoration and wonder. His lips shape the same promise he uttered just moments ago — soon — as your own quirk in a delighted smile.
One last impulsive spark of inspiration has you playfully blowing him a single kiss through the barrier between you. Charles catches the invisible token easily, hand flying up to press over that broad chest as he throws back his head with a laugh that you can’t hear but imagine with vivid clarity.
You stand there transfixed, drinking in every last detail of him — the effortless elegance he carries himself with, the striking planes of his handsome face, and those beautiful eyes glittering with a thousand unspoken promises under the streetlamps.
Finally, with your own vow to reunite pulsing between you, Charles slides behind the wheel of his car. The powerful engine roars to life, twin beams from the headlights sweeping up to briefly wash through the windows of the lobby in a silent farewell before he’s peeling away into the night back towards the glittering city center.
You remain at the entrance for several long minutes basking in the memory of Charles’ phantom embrace still clinging to your skin. Only once his Ferrari has faded into the distance do you finally turn towards the elevator up to your apartment — every footstep lighter than air in the wake of an evening that lived up to even your wildest dreams of romantic splendor.
The simple joy and humble pleasure of a perfect scoop of creamy gelato will always hold untold meaning now as the spark marking the start of something beautiful blossoming between you and Charles.
And, as you finally drift off that night with a permanent smile etched across your face, you know without a shadow of a doubt that no flavor in the world could ever compare to the sweet indulgence of a life together just waiting to be savored and explored.
***
The warm spring breeze carries the sweet floral scents of the Brera Botanical Garden through the air as you stroll hand-in-hand with Charles. His fingers are laced through yours, his thumb gently stroking over your knuckles. You can’t help stealing glances at his handsome profile — the defined jawline, those soft kiss-curled lips, those kind green eyes that always seem to be smiling even when the rest of his face isn’t.
“What are you looking at?” Charles says with an amused grin, catching you staring again. You just shake your head and squeeze his hand tighter.
“Nothing. Just admiring the view,” you tease. Charles laughs that bright, infectious laugh of his that never fails to make your heart flutter.
You come to a stop beneath a blossoming cherry tree, pale pink petals floating down around you. Charles turns to face you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“Y/N … there’s something I want to talk to you about,” he begins, suddenly uncharacteristically nervous. You tilt your head curiously. “You know how passionate I am about racing, about Formula 1. It’s been my dream since I was a little boy.”
“Of course,” you nod, unable to stop a small smile. Charles’ love for motorsports is one of the many things you have come to adore about him.
“Well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately,” Charles continues, taking both your hands in his. “And I’ve realized that I want to have something else in my life too. A … passion project, you could say. Something that’s away from all the spotlight and pressure.”
Your brow furrows slightly as you try to imagine what he could mean. Charles has spoken before about potentially getting more involved in charity work or environmentalism on top of his racing career. But the almost childlike excitement dancing in his eyes tells you this is something different.
“I’m going to open a gelato shop,” he blurts out finally. You blink dumbly.
“A … gelato shop?” You repeat slowly. Out of all the possibilities, that was definitely not what you were expecting.
“Yes!” Charles grins broadly, clearly delighted by your surprise. “Think about it,Y/N. What’s more perfect than gelato made right here in the heart of Milano? And I’ve already found the ideal location — a little shop just across the street from here. Can’t you just picture it?”
He starts gesturing animatedly, that bright smile never leaving his face as he outlines his grand vision. You can’t help getting caught up in his infectious enthusiasm, even if the idea still seems a bit random.
“I’m going to call it Lec,” Charles says with a proud smile. You let out an undignified snort of laughter.
“Lec? Like your last name?” You shake your head in amusement. He looks almost offended by your reaction.
“No, no, not just my last name,” he corrects you seriously. “Lec as in … our last name. Yours and mine.”
The words hang in the air as realization slowly starts to dawn on you. You open and close your mouth dumbly as Charles takes a deep breath, sliding off the path onto one knee on the ground before you. With shaking hands, he pulls out a small black box from his pocket and flips it open to reveal the most stunning diamond ring you’ve ever seen.
“Y/N Y/L/N … you are my world, my everything,” Charles’ voice is thick with emotion as he gazes up at you. “I cannot imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else by my side. I want to wake up every morning and go to sleep every night with you beside me forever.”
Tears are already welling in your eyes, one hand pressed to your trembling lips as you listen to the beautiful words.
“Will you ...” Charles’ voice catches in his throat and he has to clear it before continuing. “Will you do me the greatest honor and become my wife? Will you marry me?”
The last few words come out in a rush of breath. You’re vaguely aware of several other people in the gardens who’ve stopped to watch, but all you can see is Charles’ face — hopeful and vulnerable and so full of pure adoration for you.
“Yes!” You finally manage to choke out through your joyful tears. “Oh my god, yes! Yes of course I’ll marry you!”
Pure relief and blissful ecstasy bursts across Charles’ face at your answer. With hands trembling just as badly as yours, he eases the glittering ring out of the box and onto your finger where it nestles perfectly, the diamond catching the dappled sunlight.
Before you can even look at it properly, Charles is on his feet again, pulling you into his embrace and spinning you around in a deliriously happy circle. You cling to him, laughing and crying at the same time as he peppers every inch of your face with kisses — your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose.
Finally, inevitably, his mouth finds yours in a long, deep, loving kiss that has your knees feeling weak. You get lost in the warmth of his arms around you, the gentleness of his hands cradling your face, the tenderness of his soft lips moving reverently against yours.
When you finally part, you’re both smiling so much it almost hurts, foreheads pressed together as you share the same breath. Charles brushes away a few stray tears on your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.
“I love you so much, mon cœur,” he murmurs softly. You mouth the words back to him before stealing another lingering kiss.
Hand-in-hand once more, Charles leads you out of the botanical gardens and across the street. You come to a stop in front of a quaint yet sizable storefront, the windows covered in brown paper and a faded For Lease sign still hanging crookedly in the door.
“Here it is,” Charles says, gesturing up at the building with undisguised pride. “What do you think?”
You take it in slowly, trying to envision what the space might look like once renovated and filled with cozy seating and the alluring scents of freshly-made gelato.
You picture the two of you working side-by-side behind the counter when Charles doesn’t have a race, laughing and bantering as you serve up delicious treats for smiling customers.
It’s such an endearingly normal, domestic dream compared to the fast-paced frenzy of the Formula 1 lifestyle. But standing here with your new fiancé, it feels absolutely perfect.
“I think … I think it’s going to be incredible,” you lean into Charles’ side and wrap your arms around his trim waist. He responds by kissing your temple and pulling you closer.
“Just think,” he says happily, his warm breath ruffling your hair. “We’ll be the owners of the best little gelateria in all of Milano.
“Sounds like heaven,” you smile. “Just be sure to make plenty of hazelnut and tiramisu for me.”
“Done and done,” he promises solemnly. “Though you know vanilla will always be number one in my book.”
“Oh really?” You arch an eyebrow challengingly. “Is that so?”
Without warning, you loop your arms around Charles’ neck and pull him in for a long, lingering kiss. You can feel him melting into your embrace, his arms snaking securely around your waist.
When you finally manage to pull apart again, you’re both slightly flushed and out of breath. Charles’ usually perfectly tousled hair is charmingly mussed from running your fingers through it. He looks at you with such naked affection and desire that your heart flutters.
“You know what?” He murmurs huskily, resting his forehead against yours. “I take it back. You’re definitely my favorite flavor. And I can’t wait to start this next chapter with you, mon amour.”
And with that promise lingering sweetly between you, Charles takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply once more, pouring every ounce of his devotion into the embrace.
You can taste forever on his lips.
When you finally part, grinning giddily at each other, Charles takes your hand and leads you back towards your next adventure. Whatever lies ahead, you know you’ll take it on fearlessly and joyously, side-by-side with the man you love more than anything in this world.
***
The reception hall is a whirlwind of joy and celebration as you take in the scene, your heart overflowing with love and happiness. The elegant decorations, the twinkling lights, and the smiling faces of your loved ones surrounding you all blur together in a beautiful haze.
You can scarcely believe this day has finally arrived — the day you’ve dreamed of for so long.
You turn to Charles, his warm green eyes sparkling with so much love, and your breath catches in your throat. He looks devastatingly handsome in his perfectly tailored tuxedo, his million-watt smile making your knees go weak.
This incredible man is now your husband.
“Hey you,” he murmurs, taking your hand and brushing his lips across your knuckles. “Having fun, mon amour?”
A joyful laugh escapes your lips as you nod enthusiastically. “More than I ever thought possible. I’m just … I’m so happy, Charles. I can’t believe we’re actually married!”
He chuckles, that rich laugh that never fails to make you melt. “Believe it, Mrs. Leclerc. You’re stuck with me forever now.” His expression softens as he cups your cheek tenderly. “I love you so much. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
You lean into his touch, savoring the moment. “I love you too, Mr. Leclerc. More than anything.”
A throat clears behind you, and you whirl around to see Arthur, your new brother-in-law, grinning mischievously.
“If you two lovebirds are done making everyone else nauseous, it’s time to cut the cake!” He teases, jerking his head towards the lavish gelato cake that sits on the dessert table.
Charles throws his head back with a laugh. “You’re just jealous that you don’t have someone as amazing as my wife to make gooey eyes at.”
Arthur rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Whatever. Get your butts over there before I eat the whole thing myself.”
With a wink at you, Charles takes your hand and leads you towards the dessert table, the crowd of guests parting like the Red Sea to let you through. Your heart does a little flip as the magnificent gelato cake comes into view — a towering masterpiece of creamy gelato in vanilla, hazelnut, and tiramisu, all artfully swirled together and decorated with fresh fruit and chocolate shavings.
“It’s perfect,” you whisper in awe, giving Charles’ hand a squeeze.
He pulls you into his side with a content smile. “Not as perfect as you.”
The crowd applauds as you approach the cake, and a chorus of cheers and wolf whistles rises up. Straightening your shoulders with a grin, you pick up the gleaming cake knife and lock eyes with Charles, suddenly feeling bold.
“Ready to do this, husband?” You ask with a teasing lilt.
His eyes blaze with undisguised desire. “More than ready, wife.”
Together, you slice into the towering gelato cake, the creamy filling oozing out and already making your mouth water. Once you have a generous slice on a plate, you scoop up a spoonful and lock eyes with Charles again, arching an eyebrow in challenge.
His pupils dilate as he catches your meaning, a low growl rumbling in his throat. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, mon cœur.”
“Who says I can’t finish it?” You take a step closer, holding the spoonful of gelato up temptingly.
Charles tips his head back with a groan. “You’re killing me here.”
“Good thing you have me to bring you back to life then,” you quip, pressing the spoon to his lips.
He opens obediently, letting you slide the gelato into his mouth with agonizing slowness. His eyelids flutter shut as the flavors explode over his tongue, and he actually moans — deep and guttural and utterly sinful.
A choked sound comes from somewhere in the crowd. “Oh please, get a room!” Joris, Charles’ best friend and best man, calls out with a mixture of amusement and mortification.
Charles doesn’t even open his eyes, simply raising one middle finger in Joris’ direction as he savors the last of the gelato. When his tongue finally darts out to catch a stray bit on his lips, you feel an unexpected flare of heat low in your belly.
Okay, two can play at this game.
Deliberately holding Charles’ heated gaze, you dip your finger into the gelato drippings on the plate and slowly, so slowly, bring it up to your lips. You let the very tip of your tongue dart out to catch the sticky sweetness, swirling it around luxuriously. His Adam’s apple bobs as he watches you, jaw tense.
That’s it.
You slip your finger into your mouth fully, hollowing out your cheeks as you suck the gelato off with an utterly obscene sound. Charles’ knees actually buckle, and he grips the table behind him for support, pupils blown wide.
“You are so dead,” he growls under his breath, low and dangerous.
Unable to stop yourself, you let out a breathy giggle, drunk with a dizzying cocktail of desire and sheer bliss. Charles takes a half step closer, his eyes burning into yours. You quickly scoop up another fingerful of gelato, desperate to keep pushing those buttons and draw out that delicious intensity.
But before you can bring it to your lips, quick as a flash, Charles is on you. He drags you flush against his solid form, his free hand cupping the back of your neck to angle your mouth up to his. The scorching kiss steals the breath from your lungs, leaving you dizzy and clinging to his lapels for purchase.
When he finally breaks away, his eyes are blazing with unconcealed want.
“You missed a spot,” he rasps.
Then he’s ducking his head, and with one torturously slow lick, he clears the stray bit of gelato from the tip of your nose. The heat of his tongue on your overly sensitive skin makes you whimper.
The catcalls and whistles from your guests fade into white noise as you melt against your husband, lost in the endless depths of his hungry gaze. Screw being appropriate — you’ll give them all a show to remember if you have to.
“Fuck, I love you,” Charles rumbles, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire.
Before you can respond, he’s kissing you again — deep and thorough and all-consuming. You sigh into his mouth, bunching the fine material of his tuxedo jacket in your fists to pull him even closer. His hand slides from your neck into your hair, cradling your head reverently as he pours every ounce of his love and passion into the kiss.
An eternity later, he breaks away with a ragged breath, resting his forehead against yours. “I think it’s time to get out of here, don’t you?”
You can only nod breathlessly, already imagining the deliciously wicked things he has in store. As if in a trance, you allow him to take your hand and lead you towards the exit, shouting and wolf whistles following in your wake.
Just before you slip out of the hall, you hear Pierre Gasly’s teasing voice behind you.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, you two!”
Charles pauses only long enough to call over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“But there’s nothing you wouldn’t do!”
Then he’s sweeping you into his arms with a playful growl, carrying you into your new life together as man and wife. Peals of laughter and cheers chase you down the hall, but you only have eyes for each other in this perfect moment.
You’re married to the love of your life. You have forever with this incredible man. And if the wedding is anything to go by, forever is going to be deliciously amazing.
Literally.
988 notes · View notes
obsessivevoidkitten · 9 months
Text
Sweetest Nectar
Yandere Sundew Plant Man x Gender Neutral Luna Moth Fae Reader CW: Noncon, no pain, drugging, aphrodisiac nectar, lured in, bondage, reader done gets violated by the tentacles, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, reader rides that dick like a cowboy, making out, french kissing, general yandere behavior, seed oviposition Word Count: 1.4k (Comm I got late last night. Wrote half before 5am this morning and the rest tonight. The name Lasio comes from the sundew subgenus Lasiocephala. Hope you all enjoy <3)
The only sound you could hear was that of the wind as it whooshed by while you fluttered without a care in the world through the purple sky. Partly cloudy, a nice breeze, no bothersome humans in this realm at all. A lovely summer evening in the realm of the fairies.
You were a luna moth type fairy. Your large pale jade wings and antenna serving as a dead give away. Not that it mattered when you were away from the land of the humans. When you were on Earth you could easily disguise yourself though, so it was never a problem. But here you were totally free to be as nature intended.
You flitted between the great flowers, many as great as trees, collecting various types of nectar to feed on later. You went at this task for a couple hours before deciding to feed on your spoils in a nice clearing near the crystal creek.
After a nice day fluttering all about it was nice to sit down and begin to relax. You sipped from one of your many vials of nectar and enjoyed the birdsong all around you. It was so peaceful here. A true paradise. You tried to spend as much time as possible here, avoiding the human world as much as possible.
With a heavy sigh you willed yourself up and readied yourself to collect more nectar and maybe some pollen for tomorrow. It took much to sustain you. It seemed you were in luck. As the wind shifted, before you even took to the sky, you caught the alluring scent of nectar.
It was the most alluring floral scent you had ever experienced, there was probably quite a lot of fresh high quality nectar. Your antennae were twitching like crazy and even though you had just had a snack you had to wipe away drool from your mouth because you were salivating so intensely.
You leapt up and began flying towards the wondrous aroma at once.
It didn’t take long for you to find it. A long vine with lovely red globules of nectar. You tried to collect one but found that they were quite a bit sticky. Terrifyingly sticky… no matter what you did you couldn’t get free. What’s more you found yourself wrapped in the vine the more you struggled.
Soon you found yourself covered in the sticky goop, its heady aroma practically drowning you. Your head grew dizzy as a heat pooled in your crotch.
Just what was this stuff?
You were stuck for a while longer and found yourself actually grinding into the sticky vine that held you, you knew you should be trying to think of a way to escape… but you were so horny… you needed to cum so bad. It was all you could think about. Your antenna vibrated with agitation at your inability to get yourself off in your current predicament, with your hands held uselessly at your sides.
Once you started to cry it became evident just what mess you had found yourself in exactly.
A man stepped out of the brush. A plant man with long sticky tentacles sprouting from his head and another mass of them branching out from his tail. They were green at the base, transitioned into a lemon yellow, and were tipped with the red globules you found yourself ensnared in.
Due to your drug-like effects of the sap you had been coated in you did not even realize the danger that you were in.
“Ah~ Pl-please help! I need help. Stuck.” You kept fidgeting. You needed to touch yourself so badly!! You couldn’t even put together that this man standing before you was the one who had trapped you in the first place.
“Of course cutie! I’m your new boyfriend, Lasio. And I wouldn’t be a very good boyfriend if I didn’t help you out~”
You did not even question what he had said, you were just too needy by that point.
At Lasio’s whim the sticky nectar became slick and slippery, but before you could get your hands to your aching crotch the vines of his tail wrapped around you tightly and drew you closer. You whimpered due to being denied the use of your hands but it quickly turned into a moan as the tip of one of the vines dipped into your pants and rubbed you thoroughly.
It pressed and massaged your entrance and you cried and begged for more. He was inclined to oblige you. The slippery appendage slid into deeply, coating your insides with the potent fluid that had already made you lose control.
You writhed and squirmed in pure sexual bliss, more stimulated than before.
But Lasio didn’t stop there, he brought your squirming form close and stilled you with a touch, his hands holding your head steady as he kissed you deeply. His tongue slipped past your lips and caressed your tongue before exploring your mouth. It was dripping with the same sweet substance that had covered your body and been deposited into your hole.
You sucked at it eagerly as you moaned softly. You absolutely couldn’t get enough.
When Lasio withdrew his tentacle like vine from you you were ready to cry in protest. It left you so empty and hollow. So needy to be filled up. Then you saw why he had removed himself from you. His cock was fully erect. It was bright yellow with a sweet looking bead of amber nectar dribbling out.
There was nothing you wanted more in this world than to be plowed by your brand new boyfriend. And there was nothing in the world that Lasio wanted more than to sink his cock into you and fill you with his seeds.
Lasio sat down on a soft patch of grass. He grabbed you gently with one of his tails and guided you over to him then pulled you down into his lap.
You understood what he needed and sat down on his cock, your well lubed hole taking him just as perfectly as his cock filled that void in you. You steadied yourself with your hands on his muscular green pecs. Your antenna twitched and lightly touched him as he grabbed your hips in his strong hands.
The sensation was indescribable as you moved yourself up and down on his prick, riding him and doing most of the work in your desperation for release. With a dazed and far away look you stared at him but you weren’t really paying much attention to anything other than the physical sensation of impaling yourself on his dick.
Lasio pulled you close and nipped at your lip gently then pressed his lips against your passionately. Reveling in the feel of your soft lips against his had him almost as intoxicated as you were.
You rode his cock until you were simply too spent to keep moving. You had already cum several mind shattering times by that point but even in your exhaustion you were no less desperate to continue making love with your wonderful partner.
“You’ve done so well for me, let me take over now my sweet moth.”
Lasio, priding himself on being the very best boyfriend ever, would never deprive you of your needs. He grasped your ass firmly and thrust into you over and over. You melted into his chest, body pressed against his with your face nestled comfortably into his neck as he thrust into you. This entire time he hadn’t yet came but he was getting close, his movements gradually became fast and sloppy as he chased his own release.
He grunted and his spasming cock flooded you with more than just semen but also many small literal seeds. The feeling of his dick twitching inside you made you squeal before going limp against him. Finally you felt sated as you wrapped your arms around Lasio and kissed him lovingly.
“Mmm, I bet you’ll grow my seeds just as well as you took my cock~”
Of course you would! You’d happily bear your lover’s children. As many as he needed you to! For once an insectoid fae had tasted of the sundew man’s nectar and then got themselves seeded by him their love for one another would be eternal.
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nonuify · 5 months
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ᝰ.ᐟ 🐈‍⬛ — J.WW ; ! soon to be mrs
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nsfw is included ! minors do not interact 18+. old money au ! [ smut, fluff & degrading kink oop- ]. idk why inspired by this song lol ꩜. | wc ; 1.8k.
“ who would’ve thought that you were to be with one of the most wealthiest men on earth? but being the wealthiest sure means being the busiest here you are sitting bored in the classiest bar in paris while being on a business outing with your dear fiancé. ”
if you told yourself four years ago that you are engaged to jeon wonwoo of jeon industries you would’ve laughed your ass off.
but now here you are sitting right beside him.
he had displayed his affection to you by holding your thigh with his veiny hands, his fingers brushing slowly on the delicate surfaces of your skin. but he was also giving more attention to the business man in-front of him and you.
now you would bang your head to the wall of boredom but you must admit that it is refreshingly breathtaking to your ears hearing the man talking business with his elegant french accent but you would’ve loved it more if your dear lover was making love to you in the penthouse owned by him.
but of course here he was not giving the attention that you’ve been needing all these two hours. trying squeezing your thighs together to relive some friction but eventually becoming a failed attempt the reason being your fiancé, giving you a blank stare for a moment meaning to warn you but you didn’t give a flying shit anymore you just wanted to get your brains fucked out.
a low sigh escaping your lips from clear frustration following a roll from your eyes which caused the french man to speak up “mademoiselle it must be tiring for being a wife of such a busy man” a chuckle out his lips while taking a sip from his martini, a giggle also left your lips with a response “well if I may say yes it is tiring but wonu always makes it up to me” a wink flew to wonwoo making him smile.
“by making up I’m sure you mean hurting his credit card” a hearty laugh from the client.
“well no, but the answer well… let’s just say it isn’t appropriate for a business scene like this” a smirk forming on your lips, enjoying every moment of this, but as your eyes shifted to your lover you couldn’t say the same, his eyes widened as he almost choked from his alcoholic drink from the words the graced your mouth.
but smoothly saved the awkward silence by saying “I think my darling angel here has had too many drinks” he chuckled but did not mean he found it funny one bit.
instead he was frustrated maybe even abit jealous if he may add he knew that bastard of a client was flushed when y/n said that, not to mention he dared to check his fiancé out too many times for his liking.
“well.. it was nice meeting you mr.aucalir but i think i need to take care of y/n here” he said putting a hand around your shoulder, signaling for you to get up from the comfy space of the chairs you were both sitting in. “ it was a pleasure having a drink with you mr.jeon & certainly a delight to have known soon to be mrs.jeon here” he said kissing you hand while you giggled away also went afar from the business man you just chatted with, coming close to wonwoo’s black porsche 718 spyder RS, his looks weren’t the only thing that was breathtaking but also his taste in cars.
the feeling of the seats leather warmed your skin but once you sat done his hand also warmed the flesh of your thigh once again but this time he gripped it tight, you knew you were in for a ride once you got home.
“wonwon you know i was joking my love?” batting your eye lashes at the male who was driving the car, but unsurprisingly you were meant by silence from him but the car sped faster, wonwoo knew your bratty little tricks and he wasn’t gonna give you what you desperately wanted easily.
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after of what seemed like a decade of a car ride you finally stepped into the penthouse you guys had lived into for a short-period stay in paris, the simple yet sophisticated well decor gave the housing unit a warm yet elegant vibe, you’re admiration for the designing of the penthouse was cut short when your fiancé pinned your arms above your pretty little head to the wall leaving no space between your bodies, he wasn’t touching you thoroughly yet your panties soaked when he did the simple movement “nonu I didn’t mean to word it out like that I swear it was only for fun” you pouted, knees weakened as he stared into your pretty trapped hands around his & saw the big diamond rock around your finger, memories flowed when he asked to be his forever, then moved his beautiful orbed eyes and looked at yours with so much lust yet so much love.
“I think it’s about time you shut your dirty little mouth for me how about that doll?” he spoke as he left his lips dangerously close to yours eventually kissing you passionately.
his hands moved letting yours freed but went to your hips grabbing them, you wrapped your legs quickly around his waist, knowing this session was heading to the bedroom you slept in.
your roberto cavalli dress you’d previously had worn was now on the floor as you were on the bed, back on the silk mattress & now wonwoo was on top of you, taking off your classic black little thong a wet spot was felt by his hands causing him to laugh “dumb baby gets wet by anything don’t you?” throwing you a smug smile, “you were the one who-“ you get cut off, your own panties gagging you “that motherfucker” you thought as now you can’t do nothing but whine against the thong that was in your mouth.
“didn’t I tell you it’s time to you shut your mouth angel?” kissing your neck leaving purplish-redish marks against it, you knew he loved marking you, it was a way he would prove to the world you were his and his only.
you would be lying if you said that didn’t make you even more wet, whining & moaning louder as your lover moved from your neck to quickly ripping your black bralette that obviously matched your thong.
he groped one of your breasts in one hand with the other he bit & roughly kissed it.
he knew how sensitive your nipples were and oh boy you were in for a very long night, with each kiss the rougher on your poor nub, “mm those boobs were made for me weren’t they angel” he smiled against one of them as you would only moan loudly enjoying every bit of this moment, wonwoo the moved down to your wet sex, hot breathes against it.
kissing your inner thighs first then eventually after more teasing he sucked on your clit , your hands never moved faster down to his hair at that second, his eyes on yours as he licked & kissed away down there, you could only watch and was helplessly gagged by the panties as even your moans were painfully to let out by that you knew if it made you uncomfy he would remove it in a matter of moments.
but luckily you liked it no. loved it deep down you both know you were a little masochist.
“aww my dumb girl is struggling” he faked a pout then went back to tongue fucking your hole, stretching your tight little cunt out until a knot formed in your stomach feeling an orgasm coming, whining loudly as you tugged on his hair more harder, rolling your eyes you finally you came on his face.
panting heavily till you calmed down a little. momentarily after that he took the panties from your mouth & threw it somewhere around the dark natured bedroom, you begged him “please please nonu please fuck me I promise I’ll be a good girl “ as tears formed falling from your eyes, giving him the best puppy eyes ever “but I let you came no?” disappointed as you began to cry more, thinking of an idea of letting him into fucking you, you got on all fours pressing your ass on his clear raging boner “such a pathetic cocksleeve” but he smiled at how desperately you wanted him he found it cute even.
you heard his belt being taken off, you couldn’t be happier after hearing that you could scream you were getting what you wanted all night long “t-thank you s-so much nonu!!” how cute his cute little angel “always so polite when I give you my cock, I guess you are my good girl” he chuckled kneading the flesh of your ass then spanking each side of your cheeks loving the sight of it jiggling.
teasing you, sliding his dick against your folds, you whined pushing backwards to hope you would get him inside of you quickly, but he answers by grabbing your head and pushing down on the mattress with one hand and pushing his cock in your tight hole with the other.
make-up that took hours for you to finish was totally ruined.
your knuckles turned white from how you gripped at the mattress “w-wonnwon!!” moaning loudly feeling as he stretched you out completely by his big cock, “fuck a-always so fuckin’ tight f’me” he groaned thrusting slowly for you to adjust to his size then picking up the pace, skin slapping & lewd noises was filled with in the room.
“mm fuck this cunt was made f’me isn’t it princess, m’gonna wife you up ” you only muffled a mm! yeah! loudly as a response, too fucked out to respond correctly.
“gonna cum with me angel?” his thrusts sped up feeling his high he moaned and said again “cmon baby come with me s-shit” both moaning in unison riding your high together till he came & you squirted out on his cock.
loving the feeling of his warm seed in you, you whined after he pulled out and lied down on the bed with you “fuck that was really hot baby, squirting all for me” he pushed the hair out your face and leaves kisses all over your face, saying precious compliments on how you did good for him, “mm love you nonu” you hugged him lying with him soon into going into the world slumber “love you more angel” he smiled pulling you close to him.
the tingling thought of tomorrow & the day after & after because what was awaiting is the best life you could wish for as long as it’s with jeon wonwoo.
! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ this is so bad I’m so sorry- but thank you for reading >ᴗ< !!
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chigirisprincess · 8 months
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Doctor's Orders ೀ
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— Wriothesley
⊹ Details. 18+ minors dni, gn!afab!reader, werewolf!wrio, doctor!reader, reader is from liyue, wrio has boxing injuries, bratty and slightly tsundere reader, banter, teasing, power imbalance, boss!wrio and subordinate!reader, semi public sex, oral sex (reader giving), top!wrio, bottom!reader, vaginal fingering, hair pulling, pussy spanks, knotting, creampies, wrio speaks in french, french petname, french dialogue. ⊹ Run time. 5.0k ⊹ Note. This was originally a part of an event ask game held back in October ,,, Oopsies! But!!! It's finally finished and much longer than it was meant to be but this idea has been rotting my brain since September!! Enjoy lovelies <3
❝After a particularly grueling boxing match, Wriothesley finds himself on the receiving end of a scolding from his subordinate and doctor. Though he supposes he can't be too bothered when your next treatment has you on your knees for him.❞
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The Duke’s office smells strongly of antiseptic and sweat. It smothers the usual scent of weathered parchment and fragrant tea that fills the room. The lack of windows and airflow makes the room grow stagnant, and your clothing clings uncomfortably to your skin as it’s dampened by the muggy humidity that claims the Fortress of Meropide. Rolling your neck out, you quickly glance upwards at the man who sits like a kicked puppy before you. His shoulders are slumped forward and he withers under your steely gaze.
It was unusual. Despite his newly elevated status and gruff demeanour, Wriothesley liked to talk, often far more than he should. Now, he remained silent in your care, save for the few pained grunts and whines as you dabbled disinfectant across his split knuckles. His brows are furrowed as he watches your deft fingers wrap gauze around his splintered skin. Your mouth opens and closes as you search for something comforting to say to him but you come up empty.
Not that you had said much to the man since being called from the infirmary to his office.
“All done,” you murmur, setting his nearly limp hand back into his lap, “Do you mind tilting your head for me?”
You nod to gesture at his split lip before turning away to rummage through your medical bag. There wasn’t much left but you had enough to finish patching him up. Soon, you’d need to visit the surface and replenish the infirmary supplies. Your lips dipped into a frown at the thought. Your scarce trips to the surface always seemed to be troublesome in one way or another. Taking Wriothesely’s stubbled chin between your thumb and forefinger, you sigh softly before dabbing at the gnarled gash that cut through his bottom lip.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile,” the Duke quips with a lopsided smile.
He peers up at you for a moment, his pale blue eyes flickering up and down your face as your frown deepens into a scowl.
“You’re an idiot,” the words fly faster out of your mouth than you mean for them to.
Your shoulders tense up as you prepare for a tongue-lashing from your boss. If he’d been a lesser man, you likely would have been sent packing long ago but Wriothesely stares at you long and hard, his long black lashes brushing the tops of his cheeks as he blinks at you. Maybe you’d think he looks rather pretty beneath the scars and bruises with such expressive eyes and doll-like lashes had you not run your mouth. Still, your mind lingers near the shores of murky waters as it begins to consider that he is attractive. Attractive in a way that should he ever wish to leave his life beneath waves behind, he’d find no shortage of suitors knocking down his door, all vying for a crumb of his attention and affections.
Objectively speaking, he was rather good-looking. This you knew, though it was something you refused to allow yourself to acknowledge in all of the years you resided in the fortress. He was your superior, one whose rugged outward appearance projected a far more intimidating and unapproachable mirage than you assume he would have liked. It stunned you into a skittish silence that lasted six months and only ended once you caught him deep in thought over which tea he was going to pick. By the time he had chosen a packet of soothing chamomile, the kettle of boiled water that sat adjacent to his tea cup had cooled and needed to be warmed once more.
“Your Grace, you have my sincerest apologies. I did not-”
“Come now, you don’t have to lie to me,” Wriothesely laughed, his ears twitching with delight, “Though, I must admit I think you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone here who agrees with you.”
You stiffened, your mouth agape with shock, “That is not what I meant, your Grace,” you sputter, drawing your hands away from him. Your mind teeters and you’re nearly thrown off kilter when he laughs again. Had you not been so wrought with surprise, you might have felt insulted, “It’s just … I advised against any formal or informal boxing matches with your shoulder still recovering and you didn’t listen!”
Your shoulders tremble with emotion, it may have been annoyance but you were far too aggravated by how prettily he looked as he stared at you with an amused smirk as you scolded him. Blood dribbles down his chin as his grin widens, aggravating his wound further. Shaking your head at him, you resist the urge to roll your eyes in an act of defiance. It would do little to aid in your plight and your words would deaf upon his fuzzy ears.
“And if I may be frank, because you pushed yourself past your limit, you got your ass handed to you!”
The smug smirk that sits on his stupidly pretty mug makes your skin erupt with goosebumps. He seems far too amused at being scolded and it sets a fire in your belly ablaze, frustration bubbling over the lip of the pot where your emotions are typically stuffed into. Crossing your arms over your chest, you scowl at Wriothesley.
“Oh? You think I lost because I was injured?” He laughs, bemused by how your face is twisted up in annoyance, “I let ‘im win, he needed it far more than I did.”
Your silence only spurs his grin to grow even wider.
“Come now, you think that was my limit?”
Wriothesley asks as if it should be obvious to you as if you should know his body as well as you know his own. Did the other medics around the fortress know him so intimately? Were you supposed to?
Shaking your head to push away those pesky thoughts you sighed, “Yes,” a lump settled in your throat as he stared unabashedly at you, “Do you really expect me to believe you allowed yourself to be beaten to a pulp so your underling could have an ego boost?”
He shrugs his shoulders, slowly lifting one of his hands to curl a single finger around one of your belt loops. His slate blue eyes slide up the length of your torso before settling on your face, “I must admit I’m a bit disappointed in your lack of faith,” he remarks, sending you a playful pout, “But I suppose I could show you where my limits lay, so next time we can skip the scolding and go straight the good part.”
“The good part?” You echo.
“Yeah, you know when you kiss me better.”
Your jaw fell open in shock, eyes widening as you struggled to form words. All that slipped past your lips was a strangled sort of laugh, “What?” You managed to pant between breaths. Your cheeks warmed at the thought, your skin prickling uncomfortably as salacious images filled your mind.
“I’m just playin’ with you,” Wriothesley says, though the expression he wears as he peers up at you is devoid of the same playful lilt it previously had.
Something akin to adoration pools within the depths of his eyes. Your stomach curls in on itself and the urge to look away fills you but you can’t force your eyes away from him. The sight of him is burned beneath your eyelids, almost against your will. Maybe you’ll allow yourself to revisit it late at night once you’ve escaped his clutches and laid your head to rest. Wriothesley’s long, sharp canines bite into the plush flesh of his bottom lip as he bares his teeth to you. The finger that is hooked around your belt loop tugs against the fabric to bring you closer to him. Your feet, heavy like lead weights, trip over themselves as he puppeteers you closer to him. 
“Are you?” You question with a tilt of your head, your throat running dry and your belly fluttering with nerves “I’ve worked beneath you for years, I’ve heard just about every joke you’ve ever told, you didn’t sound like you were joking.”
His long, fuzzy tail tickles your thigh as it thumps up and down. Though Wriothesley is able to school his expression down he’s betrayed by his body and its need to act on baser instincts.
“Don’t tell me you’d prefer if I was beneath you, literally?”
Your lip curls upwards as his cheeks fill with blush. It felt good to tease him despite your racing heart and the fear that it may soon stop. Heat blankets your clammy skin, leaving pin prickling goosebumps in their wake. His thick, sturdy thighs trap yours between them. The tip of his finger unfurls and trails up your navel, lightly brushing the sliver of skin above your waistband that reveals itself when you bristle in surprise. 
“I like it when you scold me,” he confesses, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip, “It’s hot.”
Pressing his calloused thumb to your tummy, he rubs a circle into the flesh just beneath your belly button. Your pussy clenches in anticipation but your brows furrow in something akin to shame. It is shameful, how the slight brush of his bare skin against yours has set your being on fire and plunged you deep within a pit of desire. Your skin prickles as you pathetically lean into his touch.
Cocking your head to the side you try to steady your wobbling voice, “Oh yeah?” You ask, hoping the slight lilt is infused with more confidence than you were capable of possessing, “Does it turn you on?”
You try not to cringe over how your voice crackles with nerves like an old, worn speaker system.
“Maybe it does, but can you blame me?”
You couldn’t not when the sight of him glistening with sweat and dabbled with splattered blood after a boxing match filled your head with thoughts that were far better suited for those Inazuman light novels that your coworker Marguerite often indulged in when Sigewinne didn’t have her tending to patients. The sound of your blood rushing past your ears distracts you from his question as you become acutely aware of how your heart throbs painfully beneath your rib cage. If you didn’t know any better you might’ve thought you were dying from the rushing sense of urgency that quickly filled you. Your fingers twitched by your sides, they ached to press against your pulse point for confirmation that this was real and the Fortress hadn’t yet imploded, sending you straight into some dreamlike afterlife.
The soft call of your voice breaks you away from the murky, spiralling depths of your mind, “Sorry,” you murmur, chewing on your bottom lip, “What did you say?”
“Distracted?” He asks, his voice irritatingly smug, “Come now, I haven’t even touched you and you’re already so dumb for me?”
“Shut up.”
The words fly past your gritted teeth with ease despite his seniority. You peer down at him with furrowed brows and annoyance laced between the buttons of your dress shirt. You blink in shock, still half estranged with yourself and your behaviour. Wriothesley smiles at you, cupping your face with an achingly tender touch. Try as you might, you can’t will yourself to hate his touch. Your tummy dips into a summersault as your nerves crawl up your throat to clog up your vocal chords. 
“Archons … You're so cute when you try to be mean,” he muses, biting his lip despite the splintered skin. You’re about to chastise him, but he smooths his thumb across your bottom lip. Dragging the flesh downward, he exposes your bottom row of teeth to him.
Shaking your head you hiss,“I’m not trying  … You’re just so annoying!” smack his hand away, you try to keep your stony resolve from crumbling beneath the weight of his heated gaze.
“So I’ve been told.”
You don’t when you dipped your chin down, but you’ve begun to crouch lower so your face is level with his. His warm breath fans across your nose and cheeks. The minty scent of the gum he chewed on all the way to his office lingers on his breath. 
“Liar,” you whisper.
The tip of Wriothesley’s nose brushes against yours. Your breathing slows for a moment, the air collecting in your chest as you hold it. You don’t have to see his expression to know there’s a rather pleased smirk on his lips. You sigh, it’s a bit too heavy to be seen as simply a sign of your resigned fate. In the end, it’s you who closes the small gap between your mouths, ending this silly game of chicken and kissing him. It’s better than you could have ever imagined. 
Wriothesley tugs you into his lap with an eager fervour, his lips never once leaving yours. His hands slip down to grope your thighs in spite of the thick, unmoving material of your dress pants. He’s warm, surprisingly so. Heat melts off the bare skin of his torso, your face feels hot. You’d rather blame it on him than accept the flush that’s dripping down your neck and leaving you dabbled with clammy perspiration. 
“Everyone here loves you,” you grit, your chest heaving as you breathe, “They adore you, I hear the praises they sing for you every day.”
His canines poke against your bottom lip as he nips the flesh, “Are they? Hm, I hadn’t noticed,” he smugly muses, “Do join in? Or, are you strictly an observer?”
Pressing your thumb into the battered, bruised flesh of his shoulder, you give him a pointed look.
Wriothesley winces, “Mon petit agneau,” he growls in warning, “I don’t think you want to do that.”
“Why? You know I’ll just stitch you back up.”
Tangling your fingers into his hair, you pull him in for another kiss. His tail thumps wildly about, slapping against the side of your body as he crushes you into his chest. The sharp edge of his teeth prick your lips as he works to pry your mouth open and lick his tongue inward. He groans into your mouth when your fingers find the base of his ears. They twitch in your hold. You can feel his cock harden against your crotch as you experimentally smooth your fingers around the sensitive flesh.
“That’s what doctors do, isn’t it?” You ask, swiping your tongue across your lip. It tastes metallic but you’re unsure if he’s split your skin or reopened his wound, “They put you back together and make you feel good?”
Wriothesley’s lashes flutter as his eyes roll back slightly, “Kinda hard to do that when you’re purposely trying to get me all riled up.”
He pushed you onto your back before you were able to spin together a response. The sofa he keeps in his office is as uncomfortable as it looks. A rouge spring digs into your spine but it does not yet pierce the fabric, keeping you safe … for now.
“Archons above, have you always been such a brat?”
When he looms over you like this, Wriothesley appears oddly predatory. What’s strange is not how quickly perspective can switch but rather how little fear fills you up. It’s thrill that pours into your lungs and leaves you sputtering in anticipation. Your legs spread a little wider to invite his body to slot between your thighs. 
You don’t think when your hands fly to unbutton your shirt, “I’m not,” you smoothly reply, “Don’t pout like a petulant child when I’ve bested you at your own game.”
His teeth glint in the low light.
“You think you’ve bested me?” He questions, grumbling something beneath his breath. You’re unsure what he’s saying, it’s something in his native Fontainian tongue. It sounds rather pretty, you almost want to ask him to repeat himself for the chance to hear it again but he cuts you off in the gruff common tongue you share.
“How foolish you are.”
The metal of his belt clinks as he yanks it open. You’re about to scold him to be mindful of his knuckles but blood soaks through the gauze before you’re able to. His handcuffs jingle loudly as he tosses them to the floor, his belt going with it. Goosebumps prickle your heated skin as the fabric of your shirt falls away from your body. You shiver, nearly flinching as your pants and underwear are tugged down your legs. His palms are calloused, weathered with the signs of time and age, they’re rough against your supple thighs. They drag over your skin in quiet contemplation as Wriothesley sizes you up. 
“Am I, though?”
You sharply inhale when you catch sight of his hard, dribbling cock. He slowly strokes his length, his crystalline eyes boring into yours. There’s a small twinkle of mischief that pangs against the surface of his eyes, begging to be let out as you gawk at him. Precum spills over his knuckles and spatters across your pelvis with each shallow thrust of his hand.
Licking your lips, you cast your gaze upwards, “J'ai besoin de toi,” he mutters with a haggard breath of his own, “You drive me crazy, you know that?”
You shake your head, feeling a bit shy under his gaze.
“Well, you do.”
“Maybe … Maybe, I should do something about that then?” You suggest, reaching out to encase his hand within yours.
Wriothesley snorts a bit as he chuckles in agreement, “You should.”
Paying no mind to the small wince that he attempts to disguise with a throaty grunt, you wrap your fist around his cock. It throbs in your hold, a few more beads of precum flicking onto your belly. 
“I’m sorry,” you apologise as you dip your head down to press your pursed lips to the weeping, red tip, “So, very, sorry.”
“Are you? I think you could do a bit better.”
Humming in contemplation, you squeeze the base of his dick, slowly allowing your tongue to loll out from between your lips to lick at his sweat salted skin. Wriothesley’s nails dig into the worn fabric of the sofa behind your head. The tendons and muscles in his arms flex and throb in the corner of your eye. You nearly moan at the sight alone, his raw strength further stirring up the embers that crackled deep within your tummy. The musk of his sweat fills your nostrils, adding to the intoxicating, heady mixture of precum that dabbles your tongue.
He curses under his breath, tossing his head back as he groans. A bead of sweat dribbles down the column of his neck and gathers within the deep crevice of his collarbone. It was truly criminal that skipped out on so many of his boxing skirmishes. If you hadn’t, you might have realised how gorgeous Wriothesley truly was, ages ago.
Swirling your head around the sensitive tip of his cock, you slowly guide his length into your mouth. Tears gather in the corner of your eyes as your mouth stretches to accommodate his girth. 
“That’s it, fucking take it.”
Wriothesley’s eyes roll back into his head for a moment before they’re settled back onto the sight of you swallowing his cock down into your mouth. The intensity that glimmers amongst them makes you squirm, a whimper gathering in the back of your throat. The vibration around his length stirs forth another set of moans that tumble past his lips to form a twinkling melody of music for your ears.
Your hand strokes his shaft, accommodating whatever you struggle to fit into your mouth. The tips of your fingers stroke at the bulbous knot that sits at the base of his cock and occasionally his full, tender balls. You can feel him twitch in your mouth when you focus your efforts on his head, your lashes fluttering to blink away the tears that have continued to pool along your lash line.
“So fucking good,” he grumbles, his chest rumbling with each syllable, “Archons above … I need to be inside of you.”
Wriothesley decides at the drop of a hat. You whine at the loss of weight and warmth filling your mouth when he swiftly pulls away to settle between your spread thighs. His tail tickles your bare skin as he shoves his muscular, scarred arms beneath your torso to press your chest against his. You can’t help but giggle when his thick, scraggly chest hair grazes against your nipples. His stubbly cheek rubs your jaw and neck raw as he settles his face in the crevice. 
“Please,” you croak with wanton need, “Please, fuck me.”
His free hand snakes between your bodies. Wriothesley cups your quivering cunt, the heel of his palm grinding into your clit as he sinks a finger into your weeping hole. 
Your jaw falls slack as pleasure courses through your veins, “Be patient,” he laughs, his fanged teeth nipping at your shoulder, “I’ve gotta stretch you open first, fuck, you’re so wet for me.”
“Mhm, all for you.”
The rough material of the sofa rubs uncomfortably against your skin as you shift to bring Wriothesley closer to you, but you don’t care. Any of the day's worries slip between your fingers like the sand on the beaches of Yaoguang Shoal where you spent your youth splashing around without a care. Desire pools beneath your bodies and bathes your tangled limbs in liquid gold. It washes away your gathered worries and fears, leaving your body prickled in warmth.
You think there’s irony in the magnetic heat that flickers in and out between where your flesh meets his, being so deep beneath the ocean’s surface that the walls were often cold to the touch. He was cold to the touch, constantly shrouded in elemental residue from his frigid cryo vision.
Sweat dribbles down your brow, the apples of your cheeks burn.
“Oh yeah?”
Your vision blurs for a moment as you nod your head. Wriothelsey’s hair hands limply around his face, it brushes against your forehead when he dips his head to take in the sight of your puffy, wet pussy.
“Yeah.”
It’s cloyingly sweet, the lilt of your voice. You nearly choke on it. Goosebumps follow in the wake of the blanket of embarrassment that flew over you. He pays the way you nervously chuckle no mind, instead cradling the side of your face as he stretches you open with another finger.
“I want more,” you moan between pursed lips, your eyelids fluttering shut, “I can take it.”
The rough pads of his fingers and the stretch just barely satiated your appetite but, your palate had been wet by bulbous knot that teasingly sat pressed against your thigh.
Wriothesley presses a kiss to your sweat dabbled hair line, “I know ya can,” he murmurs, licking his lips as your body trembles beneath him, “But just let me be a gentleman, huh?”
“The gentlemanly thing to do would fuck me instead of making me beg for it.”
“Begging?” That sparks his interest, there's a devilish twinkle in his eye, “I didn’t know begging was on the table.”
Pleasure ripples through you as the heel of his palm grinds against your clit at just the right angle, causing your head to spin with wanton need.
“It’s not, I have enough self respect not to beg for cock.”
“Do you though?”
His smirk makes your need triple in size which in turns makes this game all the more maddening. You question it yourself– your resolve, you already asked politely but were you above begging. If you ruminate on the thought any longer you might’ve just found the answer to be no.
Wriothesley complies nonetheless, giving your pussy a few firm, wet slaps before slipping his hand upward toward your pubic bone. His fingers leave a trail of your arousal on your skin, it dries quickly and leaves you shivering from the cold. Spitting into the palm of his hand, he strokes his cock. Precum oozes out, flicking onto the sofa cushions. Your throat bobs as you swallow, a bundle of nerves gathers at the centre of your chest as he presses the tip of his cock against your pussy. Your cunt squelches lewdly as he slides his length between your sticky folds, light grazing your clit before he settles against your hole.
“Hurry up!” You find yourself saying though your stomach remains clenched in anticipation.
Rolling his eyes, Wriothesley shakes his head, “You have to savour it.”
Still, you feel your cunt stretch open to accommodate the girth of his dick. Your jaw falls slack as the wind is knocked out of your lungs, his visage is a mirror image. Not in mockery, but in relief. A satisfied sigh passed Wriothesley’s split lips as he slowly pushed his cock in deeper. 
Wriothesley winces as you dig your nails into the meat of his shoulders, you sigh at the sight of his tensed expression, “Come now push yourself too hard,” you gasp between two wanton moans, “If you do that means I’ll have to patch you up again, would you really want to punish me with more work?”
Your taunts are cut short but a shudder that wracks through your body as he bottoms out. His thick knot teases your whole, just barely stretching you out before Wriothesley begins to thrust. Your nose brushes against his as he leans down, lips ghosting over yours.
“Either way you’ll do it with a smile,” he muses, pecking you on the mouth, “And say “Yes sir””.
You would.
You liked your job and were all too happy to work when needed even at the cost of your own sanity.
“Whatever,” you snip, burying your face into his shoulder blade to hide your smile.
Heat laps at your core, trickling into your chest. It leaves you hot all over. Your cunt throbs with need as you inch closer to orgasm. His cock feels like it’s in your stomach, the fat head uncomfortably kisses your cervix with each shallow thrust.
Pressing your teeth into the firm muscle of his shoulder, you allow a squeal to roll through your throat. You can feel yourself gushing around his length as he mercilessly bullies that spongy spot deep inside you. Warmth coats the apples of your cheeks as the cushion beneath your ass soaks up your juices. 
“Je suis à toi,” Wriothesley hisses into your hairline.
The sofa's wooden arm crackles within the palm of his hand as he roughly grips it for purchase. Your heart leaps, there’s something oddly thrilling about the display of raw strength, you’re hardly pressed to consider the fact that the Fortress couldn’t afford to replace it.
Your hands drift upward to tangle into his sweat soaked strands of hair. Your fingers twist the locks between them. 
“Tire-moi les cheveux!”
Wriothesely’s chest rumbles as he moans, his rhythm faltering slightly when you unabashedly yank at his tresses, “Harder,” you whimper, your shoulders shaking as pleasure thrums through your veins, “Please Wrio, I need it.”
You can feel yourself teetering on the precipice of orgasm, his sweat is dappled upon your tongue. 
“Et t'as l'air bien, tu te sens bien.”
“Wha-”
Your confusion is cut off by a moan which is then followed by a flurry of curses that you didn’t know you had in you. The obscene sound of wet skin slapping together smothers any other questions that may dare to dribble down your lips. 
You choke on a gasp as your orgasm washes over you, much like the first time you dove into the frigid waters in search for your place of employment. You’re dunked in a disorienting sea of cold that electrifies every nerve ending in your body. Tremors wrack through your spine and your eyes roll back into your head before you force them shut.
“Wrio,” you moan, your nails clawing at his scalp.
His tail curls possessively around your thigh, snaking its way around your hip to the small of your back. The sofa creaks, scraping loudly across the roughed hardwood floors as Wriothesley’s thrust takes on a new vigour. The hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention as his claws tear through the fabric behind your head.
“I want you to knot me!”
Wriothesley’s head bobs in what you assume to be agreement, “Je suis à toi,” he repeats, more to himself than to you.
Your lungs burn from how you hold the air in the centre of your chest, your lips rounded and jaw locked as Wriothesley slowly pushes his knot into you. He growls when your nails break skin as you claw at the nape of his neck. The tinges of pain slowly dissipate with each passing, excruciatingly long second. Your walls flutter, struggling to accommodate for the instruction.
“Fuck,” you curse, your chest heaving as you such in a ragged breath.
Wriothesley all but collapses on top of you with one last week thrust before he cums. His stubbly jaw scratches at your skin as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. Though his knot is supposed to plug your hole up, you can feel some of his thick, sticky cum oozing out of your cunt and lathing across his pelvis.
“What did it mean?” You ask once you’ve regained your breath, your words slightly minced from how your cheek laid flat against his broad shoulder.
“Hm?”
Pausing to lick your chapped lips you wildly gesture around his back though he can’t see you, “The Fontainian, what did it mean?” you clarify, “You said quite a lot.”
“Oh, nothing, don’t worry about it.”
His blaisé tone has those familiar embers of annoyance flickering to life though you were too exhausted to argue. The fur of his tail drags uncomfortably against your sweat damp skin as he possessively holds you close.
“You know me, I always worry.”
“You don’t need to,” he reassures, planting a kiss to your neck, “Everyone adores you.”
It’s almost second nature the way you roll your eyes and huff.
“At least I do.”
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coralinnii · 2 years
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forgetting your jacket and wearing someone else’s  feat: Sebek · Rook · Idia · Kalim genre: fluff, jealousy note: not gender-specific reader, no pronouns used (except maybe gendered French words in Rook's part but unsure), established relationships, reader is not part of Scarabia in Kalim's part, reader is implied to be smaller than Jack in Rook's part
I'm not sure how satisfied I am with this one because this was honestly quite a challenge for me. I haven't read book 6 yet so Idia may not be too accurate to his canon character? But still, I hope you guys enjoy it
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Would definitely scold you for forgetting to wear your jacket. No matter how warm or how cold, Sebek always wears his school uniform neatly and with pride, his honour as Malleus' guard on the line. A sloppy appearance reflects a sloppy character, he believes.
You didn’t feel too bad when he was reluctant to give you his jacket upon request. You shouldn’t force someone just because you’re a little cold. 
Fortunately for you, a classmate of yours noticed your shivering and offered his own for the time being, saying he has a spare for Flying class. You thanked your good luck as you graciously accepted. Now Sebek won’t feel bad about not giving you his jacket, right? 
With your newly acquired jacket, you managed to survive the first half of the school day and went to find Sebek in the cafeteria during recess. You waved at him happily as you approached his table but he did not return the greeting. 
He felt a sense of bile in his throat when he saw you in a jacket that did not fit you at all. The shoulders were too wide and the sleeves engulfed you. Sure, you looked cute but he doesn’t like it. He initially thought that it was because he didn't like how unfitting it was on you. 
“Human, where did you acquire that jacket? It doesn’t suit you at all” 
When you answered how someone offered his jacket to you, the bile was more prominent. The way you snuggled into another boy’s jacket, the oversized fabric enveloping you like a warm cocoon. Sure, he was hesitant over handing you his jacket before, but knowing someone else provided for you hits him in a sore spot as your boyfriend. He wants to be the one to take care of you, to be your ever reliable knight. 
Quickly, Sebek stood up from his seat and started to remove his own jacket. Without looking at you, he asked you to remove the jacket you have and put his on. 
“But I’m comfy” 
“Please, I…I beg of you” 
You did as he asked and after quickly putting away his lunch tray, he escorted you back to your dorm to get your own jacket and to quickly return the jacket of that generous classmate of yours. 
“The idea of seeing someone else take care of you… as your boyfriend, I will not stand for it!”
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A masterful huntsman, Rook Hunt is not an easy man to track. Not to mention the fact that he’s a third year and Pomefiore’s vice Housewarden, you figured that searching for him this early in the day would be a fruitless endeavour. 
Luckily, you did find Jack who, despite his grumbles over your absentmindedness, offered his jacket to you. Happy, you promised that you returned it with a favour to the beastman. 
However, the atmosphere around you seemed odd to you as the school day went on. Other students, particularly the beastman students, were busy whispering and gossiping behind you which confused you and honestly got a little bit on your nerves. 
All those unpleasant feelings quickly disappeared when you spotted a familiar feathered hat in the distance. Without a word, you quickly rushed through the crowd to give your boyfriend a hug from behind. 
Or least, that’s what you planned if it weren’t for Rook quickly turning to encase you in his arms instead. 
“I thought I heard your adorable footsteps running towards me. What a wonderful surprise!”
You laughed, thinking you should have known nothing gets past Rook. You tried to step back but realized that Rook maintained his grip on you, inspecting you with a look of curiosity. 
The hunter looks over your newly acquired jacket. The shoulders are much too bulky to be yours. He noticed the Savanaclaw emblem on the sleeve which would explain the jacket's size considering how the majority of those students are. However, he caught the scent of something -  of someone - familiar. A certain tall, gruff beastman to be precise. 
“Mon amour, is this perhaps… Jack Howl’s jacket?” 
“Oh, how did you know?” You exclaimed as you told Rook how you were cold today and Jack offered his jacket to you this morning. 
“So that explains the whispering I’ve been hearing” Rook thought as he carefully traced the lapels of the jacket clearly not tailored for you. There’s a charm to see you in a new look like this but the hunter himself is experiencing a new emotion, a burning feeling in his chest that compels him to rip away the offending fabric. Is this jealousy? Perhaps a possessive urge to reclaim his spot that feels threatened by a newcomer? 
Oh, what a beautiful new experience you have given this admirer of beauty. Rook happily revels in this feeling he has never experienced before until meeting you. 
“How wonderfully kind of him. Let us find him, I must share my thanks for caring for my beautiful trésor~” 
There’s a part of you that feels like it would not be a good idea to bring Rook to your friend, but you decided to brush that anxious feeling away. After all, the smile on Rook’s face convinced you that there was no harm (poor choice, really). 
Hidden from your sight, Rook’s fingers slightly twitched in anticipation as the two of you went to look for the white-haired freshman. Rook truly did want to offer his thanks to the beastman…with some helpful tips for surviving a hunter. 
“One must be very careful in the wild. It is not smart to leave marks near a hunter’s territory”
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You didn't even bother to try asking him, this man isn’t even on campus. Even if he was, you doubt he would give you his jacket, probably claiming it’d be “such a normie cliche”, leaving you to find other means to find warmth. 
Thankfully, you found the kind-hearted Silver who was gracious enough to lend you his school jacket for the day. With all the interesting types of students you have encountered on this campus, your flame-haired boyfriend included, Silver is odd himself for simply being such an outlier case of a typical student here. 
The day went off normally, and you decided to visit Idia in his room before heading back to your dorms. You hope you could spend some intimate time with him, some cuddling and perhaps a kiss or two. 
Too bad your boyfriend had other plans, which was apparently playing video games while purposely ignoring you. His back is turned towards you and every time you get close to him, the gamer has the audacity to scoot AWAY from you. 
“Idia, please tell me what’s wrong before I actually get mad” 
“...that jacket” You heard him mumble which confused you further. You asked to repeat himself. 
Which led your introverted boyfriend to yell out, surprising you. “You're wearing that jacket! And it had to be that guy who’s practically an otome game target!” 
Idia was sulking the entire day as he saw you through the security camera accepting Silver’s jacket. He wanted to scream and call foul-play on that but instead he reluctantly faced reality. Of course, Silver will be that type of guy. The mysterious but kind knight archetype with good looks to boot. Idia wouldn’t be surprised if he was some kind of long lost prince. 
“Well, I would love it if my boyfriend would give me his, if he wasn’t allergic to coupley stuff” there was some snark in your tone but you never really want to pressure Idia to do something he doesn’t want. You would love to show off your relationship with Idia but you wanted to respect his comfort.
Idia knows that, and he’s grateful for you for not pushing him too far out of his comfort zone. But still, knowing someone acting like that with you, all sweet and caring, leaves a sour taste in Idia’s mouth.
There was a short pause between you two, letting the mood settle before saying anything else. Then, Idia quietly asked, “Do you want to share jackets…with me?” 
“Absolutely” you gasped excitedly and without another word, Idia turned to his computer and started searching the Internet for worthwhile jackets in his sizes and yours. If you have more jackets then you won’t have to go around asking for someone else’s.
Also, even he can’t resist the giddy feeling of seeing his amazing lover wear something that’s special only to you and him, not that he would admit it out loud. Too cringe.
“If we’re doing the lame normie stuff, we’re doing it our way. And no sharing with anybody else, right??”
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Kalim would absolutely offer you his jacket, his vest, his shirt, heck even his pants without question. Whatever you want, he would give it up no questions asked. But you were surprised how you couldn’t find your boyfriend at first, until he texted you he had to be called in for a Housewarden meeting with Crowley which leaves you to wait for him in the cold. 
Luckily, a classmate of yours from Scarabia saw you shivering and offered his jacket to you. Afterall, you were his Housewarden’s beloved so he wanted to make sure you’re warm for Kalim’s sake. You were touched by this sentiment and accepted the jacket, promising to return it after meeting with Kalim.
Kalim ran to hug you as soon as he saw you as he left his meeting, enveloping you in his warm embrace with a grin on his face. In his excitement, it took a while for him to register your slightly new look. 
“Did you join Scarabia? Are we in the same house now?!” Kalim excitedly asked which you laughed at his silliness. 
When you explained the story about the jacket, Kalim was really glad. He thought about how lucky he is to have such kind people in his dorm that was so happy to help out his beloved, he must reward them later! The white-haired man was happy that you were cared for in his short absence. 
But, what is this other feeling in his heart? This heavy feeling in his chest that slightly aches when he saw how you adjusted the jacket on you, bringing it closer to your body like a comforting blanket. He felt unsatisfied, almost fearful of your attachment to this jacket. 
Was he jealous? 
Kalim shook off his thoughts as he removed his soft beige cardigan and the jacket you have. You watched him confused as he draped his cardigan over you, replacing the heat from your classmate’s jacket to his.  
“Kalim?” 
“I just thought you’d be comfier if you had my cardigan instead. It’s really soft!” he grinned as he pulled the large cardigan to wrap around you like a cute burrito. 
And to be fair, Kalim’s cardigan WAS comfier. Probably made with the highest quality and taken the best care by you assume Jamil. You happily snuggled into its warmth, reveling in the cloud soft coat, missing the loving looks from your sunshine of a boyfriend. 
Yea, he definitely likes seeing you in his clothes better. 
Don’t be surprised to see packages of luxurious coats and sweaters from yours truly. You two can match!
“If you’re ever cold, you can always come to me first! I’ll make sure to keep you warm!”  
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sexilene · 5 months
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husband!rafe and your kids attempt to prepare you a mother's day surprise! 💐
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rafe sets down your daughter so she's sitting on the table after helping her put up some pastel ribbons, hearts and banners for decoration so he can walk over and check on the pancakes your son was in charge of.
"hey bud, those pancakes are lookin' a little...come on dude" he looms over the boy and put his hand on top of the little backwards baseball cap over your sons head. 
"it's supposed to be mickey mouse!"
"well it looks like a sad bear...think mom will think they're cute?" rafe makes a face and turns his head to see more of the "sad bears" already on a plate.
"what do i know!?" your son shrugs and drops a few more chocolate chips onto the cooking pancake.
"ehh s'alright we'll just cover'em in syrup, whipped cream or something" rafe reasons with himself when your son arm swings back after trying to flip like a chef, ironically the most decent looking pancake flies to the opposite wall and splat! its ruined. 
"aw man!" your son whines and rafe gasps dramatically. "careful!! jesus!!" he rushes over to clean the mess on the wall when your daughter screams and points to the oven. both rafe and your son's heads turn quickly to where she's pointing. "what? what's wrong baby?" rafe asks all panicked.
"dad! the oven!" your son backs away from the pancakes as the oven pours out black smoke, the french toast on fire. "what is that!?" your son furrows his eyebrows and runs to open a window. "its the french toast- or it was." rafe's face hardens in concentration, hoping the fire alarm wouldn't go off and wake you up, he grabs a towel to start to "put out the fire" or "cool it down" but that just makes the fire worse causing the alarm to ring. your daughters hands fly to cover her ears as she sits there watching, your son grabs the water in the glass jar on the table and hands it to rafe who splashes it on the flaming french toast. 
"what's going on!?" you walk into the kitchen in you nightgown, picking up your daughter and holding her on your hip. the alarm still ringing, you turn your head to see your son stood on a chair trying to get the smoke away from the alarm to get it to stop. "go back to bed mama! everything's fine!" rafe shouts over the ringing and closes the oven quickly, he takes your daughter into his arms so he can shoo you away. 
"kay guys, what do'we got?" rafe sighs after sorta cleaning up the mess and sits on the table with his kids. "we've still got the pancakes." your son points to the now broken plate with ruined pancakes due to the commotion earlier. 
"uh nah bud, we've gotta scrap that." 
"i have bubblegum grampa gave me for easter!" you daughter lights up as she offers. "no princess, you keep your bubblegum, we'll think of something else." rafe smile and smooths his hand over her messy baby hairs.
"well there's vanilla ice cream in the freezer and at least a few chip's ahoys in the pink jar." you son's eyebrows shoot up at the realization. "and strawberry wafers above the fridge." the boy points to where the wafers where supposed to be hidden. 
"right, that works..." rafe smiles and picks up your baby girl to place on his hip and give a bunch of kisses to. 
"oh my goodness! whats this!" you smile brightly sitting in your bed, pausing the movie you were watching as you see your little family come through the door, your daughter runs up to your side and hands you a card she made with glitter and lace. "thank you baby this is very sweet." you place the card against your heart momentarily, rafe walks up and places a silver tray on your lap with little scoops of ice cream, wafers and cookies. "happy mothers day mama" rafe smiles, quite proud of the little breakfast they managed to come up with last minute. 
"thank you baby" you continue to smile, reaching your hand out to place on rafe's cheek as he bends down to give you a kiss. "there's more ice cream if you want s'more after, happy mother's day!" your son says smiling showing all his teeth and handing you a bouquet of casablanca lilies and a few of his baseball cards that he considers presents, you giggle and reach over to embrace him as well.
"s'very nice of you guys, so many beautiful mother's day presents!" you tell your kids.
"its not over yet, i've got s'more gifts for you in the living room." rafe grins and hands you a spoon for the ice cream. "i love you do you know that?" he asks and you nod.
"i do, and i love you, all of you guys very much. what happened in the kitchen earlier? everything okay?" 
"i just wanna say again, i love you so very much." rafe smiles innocently ❤️
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i wanna marry himmm
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Baldwin IVs love language
I thought about how one person could possibly win over Baldwins heart and decided to write about the ways I think he enjoys to be cherished as a partner. Hope you enjoy!
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I think Baldwin prefers three out of the five love language types: Quality time, words of affirmation and physical touches. Let me explain why:
Quality time: Baldwin definitely enjoys to spend some alone time with his significant other. It doesn't matter if you sit together after a long day and you listen to him talking about the political situation in the kingdom, you two sitting comfortably next to each other while you both read a book, or even meet up to eat dinner together: this is his favorite time of the day. Spending time with you,getting to know you is THE most important thing for Baldwin. For most of his life, he usually spend the evenings either alone or with work but ever since you came into his life, he looks forward to each end of a day when he can finally join you and just cherish your company. I really think due to the leprosy and the limits of physical love that comes with it, Baldwin falls in love with a mind,not looks. So if you talk to him about philosophy,history or some good stories of French knights,he will absolutely fall for you. He really needs this time to make sure that he stays grounded, to remember he found a home in you.
Words of affirmation: While Baldwin definitely stands his ground in political discussions and acts as a remarkable ruler on the outside (and the inside!), I think he also has a very vulnerable side to him. How could he not? Carrying the future of the whole kingdom on his shoulders while suffering from an incurable disease that may or may not be connected to the wrath of God? Baldwin definitely has his moments when he is sure that he can't continue like this. Shallow moments when the anger he feels about this situation does seem to get to his head. He usually spends these moments alone in his private chambers because he doesn't want to show anyone how he much the world hurts sometimes, but after some time, he would definitely let the mask down (haha) in front of you. It may take a while for him to be really comfortable to show anyone how he truly feels but as soon as he accepts you as his safe place, he WILL let his guard down. You accepting this side of him, listening to him rambling, drying his tears feels like heaven on earth to him. He loves to hear words of support from you, how he is a good king and how proud you are of him. But sometimes it's enough for him to just listen to your breath while he lays on your chest and accept his tears.
Physical touch: Listen to me, this man is touch - starved for what seems like forever. Every day of his life consists of people avoiding his presence, avoiding his touch, fearing him. And he isn't even angry about this,how could he? They fear the leprosy and he completely understands this. He himself still can't believe sometimes that God brought this upon him and the way this illness is destroying every part of his body is utterly disturbing. Yes, sometimes he feels like a rotten corpse that somehow still clings to life. He would never EXPECT anyone to willingly touch him, although he silently hopes that he will feel physical love again...somewhen. So when you softly touch his hand while you both play chess, he is sure that he can hear the blood rushing through his veins. His heart is beating faster than ever and although he can't exactly FEEL you, seeing someone closing the physical gap is enough for butterflies to fly in his stomach. The thought alone that you don't FEAR him, that you don't think him ugly or nasty but,on the contrary, long for his touch may be the best feeling for him. So every time you draw him in for a soft hug, kiss his mask or lay your hand in his, he feels like the luckiest man on earth. He will always make sure that he and your shared physical touches aren't a danger to you tho; the last thing he wants for you is to share this unholy illness with him.
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sugawhaaa · 6 months
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hi!! i just read your skz reaction abt their s/o being insecure abt their body,, and i was wondering if you could do that same thing for piwon??
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!!P1harmony reaction!!
Your insecure about your body
Warnings:: talking about body types and insecurities, the hyung line are the only smutish ones (obviously I'm not crazy)
Genre:: doggy style (theo) blow job (jiung) oral f/receive (intak) hickeys (soul)
A/N:: sorry theos is rlly personal 😭 I have a hideous birthmark on my lower back and I've been insecure about it since I was like 5. I've grown out of the insecurity for the most part but it just went along with the fanfic too good. And once again sorry some are longer than others I'm trying not to be biased but sometimes the stories change the length of the one-shot ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡
⭐️KEEHO⭐️
(Body hair)
You sat on the side of the pool with a summer hat, sunglasses, and a cover-up that hid your entire body. Not a single speck of skin could be seen from a considerable distance. Keeho in the pool swam over to you and put his arms up on the side of the pool.
"Why did you come if you're not gonna swim?" Keeho asked half genuine half teasing. You scowled at him. "Oh is it that time of the month?" He asked genuinely in a low voice.
"No," you shook your head and took off your sunglasses. The bright summer sun lit up Keehos face.
"What is it? If your shy there's no need to be. It's just me and the members," he put a hand to your thigh and you bit the inside of your lip.
"The party was just so sudden I didn't have time to shave," you explained as you looked at the water. You looked back at keeho to see his eyebrow raised.
"I get that you're insecure about that...but c'mon baby, you know no one here cares, and even I have body hair pretty much everywhere," he explained as he gestured to his body. He hopped up on the side of the pool with you.
"But your a man," you explained and you could see Keehos blood boil at your words.
"Listen. I don't give two flying French fucks if you have body hair, man or woman. It's natural okay?" He explained and you finally heard him out. He put his hand around your waist before leaning in to kiss you. Soul then sprayed Keeho with a water gun. Keeho shot a glare at him before turning back to you. "If you don't want to swim that is okay. But me and all the member would love for you to join us," he smiled before getting back in the pool and attacking soul.
You thought carefully about Keeho's words and caved in. You took off your hat and cover-up and set it on a bench on the deck. You jumped in the pool with a splash and Keeho smiled at you from the other side of the pool while drowning Soul.
🌹THEO🌹
(Body hair, scars, acne, birthmark)
Theo looked at you with a small grin as you panted on the bed, tired from your past orgasm. Theo sat beside you playing with your hair with his fingers that were not covered in your arousal. "Hey baby, I had an idea," he said in a soft, low voice. You look up at him waiting for him to continue. "How about we try a new position? Doggy style?" He proposes with a light smile. You are just about to say yes before stopping yourself. He'd see your back the whole time and your back is not a pretty sight. Lots of hair and pimples plus the worst of all an ugly hairy birthmark.
"Sure just let me get my shirt," you said leaning for your shirt on the end of the bed. Theo grabbed your wrist.
"Why?" He looked at you with a serious expression but his eyes were soft and twinkling.
"Uhm..." you had to quickly come up with an excuse on the spot. "People say it makes it more pleasurable," you lied with pink cheeks. Theo raised his eyebrow at you.
"What's the real reason?" He asked with a light smirk, his hand still wrapped around your wrist.
"Fine, I'm insecure about my back," you explained looking at his hand. Theo was taken aback. He let go of your hand but you didn't reach for your shirt.
"Why? Is it because of that birthmark?" He asked in an unimpressed tone. You nodded and Taeyang sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you I don't care," he pulled you onto his lap. "All I care about is hearing your desperate moans as I pound into you," he whispers in your ear and the butterflies in your stomach fly down south. "Harder Theo ~" he says mimicking your voice in a whisper. "The way you beg for me and my cock. You're just so obsessed with how good I make you feel~" Theo continues to whisper in your ear and your face turns red. "So what will it be? Will you let your insecurities win and I don't get to fuck you up, or you let me win and I make you see stars~?"
🍪JIUNG🍪
(Glasses)
You finally had Jiung right where you wanted him. On the bed, his back against the headrest, and his dick standing straight up. You wrapped your hand around his length and looked up at him. One of his eyes squinted shut as he looked down at you. You thought for a moment.
You wanted to give him a blow job but your glasses would get in the way, they're so big and would slip off your face if you bobbed your head but you also want to see Jiungs face and reactions. Jiung noticed your thinking face and patted your head drawing your attention. "Something wrong baby?" He asked in a sweet voice.
"I don't like my glasses. They're ugly and get in the way. I can't even give you a blowjob," you sigh and put your hand to your chin. Jiung chuckles before gently tucking some loose hair behind your ear.
"Your glasses are adorable," Jiung smiled. "And don't worry about going too fast so your glasses slip off. It's fine, take a nice pace, and don't worry about me, I'm sure it'll feel good," Jiung smiles with his eyes. You think before smiling back at him. He always knows just what to say to make you feel better. "Plus when I cum it won't get in your eyes," Jiung laughs and you slip your lips over his tip. Jiung whimpers and covers his mouth. "Fuck that's good," he smirks.
🍓INTAK🍓
(Going down on you but you say no bc u didn't shave)
Intak pouts at you when you refuse. "Please~ you always like it so much when I eat you out why are you saying no all of the sudden?" He asks with doe eyes. "Are you on your period?" He asks as he looks between your legs at your underwear to see if there's a string or pad.
"No!" You laugh and close your legs.
"Then what wrong?" He asked sincerely, looking up at you eagerly.
"It's just...I didn't shave there yet. I was going to yesterday but I ran out of time and-" you explained but Intak cut you off.
"How many times do I have to explain I don't care! If anything I like it better when you don't shave. I get to bury my face in your little pussy," he said with a smile as if he was talking about puppies or something cute. You blush and shake your head.
"But isn't it uncomfortable?" You look away and close your legs. Intak sighs before opening your legs again.
"No, now let me eat you out~!" He whined and you finally complied. You kept your legs open as he slid off your panties. He did as he said and buried his face into your folds, attacking your clit. You arched your back and grab his hair. He pulled back and smiled. "See it's not all that bad," he smirked.
🎀SOUL🎀
(Lips/mouth)
There's no doubt that you probably have the most innocent and cute-looking boyfriend ever but he doesn't always act like that with the girl he is head over heels for. He was lying on top of you as you played animal crossing on your switch. He noticed your low-cut shirt, his cheeks dusted pink. He hesitantly leaned down and kissed your chest, leaving a small purple hickey. You whimper very softly and looked down at him.
"What are you doing?" You whisper. You don't want his parents to hear during your first visit to his house. Instead of replying, he kissed your neck, sucking on your skin hard. You whimpered softly and sat down your switch. You put your hand on his head, feeling his soft blue and blond hair. "Shota..." you said softly as your face grew hot.
Soul grinned as he backed away from your neck. He leaned into your lips and you planned on just giving him a peck on the lips but he wanted more. He tried to turn it into a make out session but you put your hands on his chest and pull away. Soul instantly apologizes.
"I'm sorry did I take it too far?" He says softly with sympathetic eyes. You held your fingertips to your lips. You shake your head.
"No, it's just..." you look at him and he seems curious as to what you'll say. "I'm just kinda insecure about my lips and my kissing abilities," you chuckle and Soul tilts his head.
"How are you insecure? Like I mean your lips are plump and..." he blushes as he stares at your lips, "and I mean skill level doesn't matter, it's just how you feel," he smiles and you can't help but giggle at his innocence.
"My lips are always chapped and I often forget to brush my teeth and tongue," you explain and soul chuckles.
"My teeth are far from perfect either," he smiles and shows his crooked teeth. "And my lips are always cracking," he explains as he runs his fingers along his lips. "But I still give you hickeys with these teeth and I still kiss you with my lips," he smiles. "Because it feels good, it makes me happy," Soul grins as he hugs you. You think for a moment taking in his words. "So, do you want to feel happy or leave it as is?" He asks eagerly.
You kiss his forehead and he blushes. You smile at him before kissing him, his tongue sliding into your mouth. You moan softly into the kiss. He then bites your lip and tugs on it before letting go.
"Feels good doesn't it~?"
🍒JONGSEOB🍒
(Flat chest)
Your prepping for a date with your boyfriend. You look at yourself in your mirror and put a lip gloss on your lips. Jongseob quietly opens the door a bit watching you get ready. You have some music playing and you hum along as you put mascara on your lashes and curl them. You start singing along and Jongseob smiles as he admires you and your singing.
You brush your hair one final time before looking at yourself in the mirror. You turn to look at yourself from the side, your chest is still as flat as ever. You sigh and run your hand along your body. You adjusted your bra trying to make your chest appear bigger. Jongseob looked confused and continued to watch you. You put your hands on your hips with a grumble. You put in some bigger pads to your bra to make it look more full but it still doesn't look right. That's when Jongseob knocks on the door and you turn around. His elbow on the door frame as you look at him.
"Can I come in?" He asks as if he wasn't already basically standing in your room. You sigh and nod. He walks in and closes the door. He sits on the edge of your bed. "Do you think I don't notice?" He asks with his arms crossed.
"Well, you're supposed to notice!" You raise your voice but Jongseob is unbothered. "I do it so I seem hotter! To enhance my feminine features, make you like me more, make butterflies in your stomach go wild," you explain but Jongseob continues to go unbothered. You step closer to him. "What do you think all of this is for!?" You grab your concealer and gesture to it aggressively. Once you are finally close enough Jongseob kisses you. You're taken aback and fumble over your feet. Jongseob pulls back from the kiss and looks at you with doe eyes.
"That kiss was for you. Not your make up, not your height, not your hairstyle or color, not for how big or small your ass is, not for your chest, it was for you. My girlfriend," he stated before smiling and you look down at him surprised. "Here, why don't we wash up, change into our pajamas, and cuddle up and watch a movie?" He says as he caresses your cheek. You think for a moment before sighing.
"Your right..." you look at the floor before smiling at him. Jongseob smiles back and you can't help but laugh.
"Why are you laughing?" He asks pretending to be mad.
"Ever since you kissed me my lipsticks been on your lips," you laugh and Jongseob looks at you surprised before wiping his lips. He looks at his hand to see glittery lipgloss and pink lipstick.
"Why didn't you say anything!"
"Because you were being so serious!" You laugh.
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cheriladycl01 · 7 months
Text
My girlfriend jousts! Charles Leclerc x SouthKoreanOlympicFencing! Reader
Plot: Charles Leclerc finally dates outside of his friendship circle, nobody in the paddock has met you yet. He invites you to your first race and tries to explain your job to everyone...
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You walked next to your boyfriend F1 driver Charles Leclerc. It was your first time in the paddock with him and you were very nervous. You'd never met his team-mate Carlos Sainz, or any of the drivers for the matter.
You reached out to take his hand which he took happily, pulling it up and kissing the top of your hand.
"There's no need to worry! Everyone's going to love you!" he smiles down at you, you rub your thumb over his knuckles as a comforting gesture for yourself.
You both swiped in and he didn't leave your side, no matter how many people came up to talk to him. Weather it was the likes of Will Buxton, wanting to talk to him about the car, or a fan asking for a signature on a Ferrari cap or one of his fellow drivers offering him quick good lucks for the weekend as they rush off to whatever media duties they have.
"Come on, lets go find Carlos! I'll introduce you to Rebecca" he smiles as you both head over to the Ferrari motorhome. You can tell everyone really is like family there, Charles walks you round introducing you to all the mechanics and the social media staff. Literally anyone he can find he goes up to, and he knows their names and is asking them about their families.
"Oh! Yes this is my girlfriend Y/N. She's much cooler than me... she jousts for her job!" he exclaims using the worst way possible to describe what you do.
"Excuse me?" the man laughs, not really understanding what Charles was trying to explain your job as.
"I'm a South Korean Olympic Fencer. I competed in the 2021 Olympics in Tokyo. Charles just finds it funny to tell people i joust like some medieval brute!" you smile at the mechanic who laughs nodding.
"I knew i recognized you from somewhere, just couldn't put my mind too it where I support Italy!" he smiles and you nod at him.
"So what's it like being a fencer?" he asks.
"I enjoy it, there's obviously a certain level of talent too it and dedication but i've also found its rather artistic" you smile while explaining how you've linked your training schedule up to Charles' with Joris so you can get fitter before the next games.
You'd placed silver which had been incredible but like most olympians or people in sort you wanted that gold. You'd noticed major improvements in the way you'd fenced since you'd gone to training with Charles. You basically copied his everyday routine. You ate what he ate and you exercised like he did.
Next up Carlos came jogging over Rebecca as graceful as ever floating behind him greeting everyone that she passed.
"Omg hello! You must be Charles girlfriend. He and Carlos have told me all about you!" Rebecca smiles but you struggle to understand her because of the strong Scottish accent. It took you months to get around the way Charles spoke that you actually found it easier if you both spoke in French, which you'd learned at school. But you eventually both got around that curve-ball.
"Hello. It's nice to meet, both of you. Charles has also told me lots about you!" you admit smiling at her, she pulls you into a hug which you kindly accept and try to not make the first contact awkward.
You all ended up having lunch together in the Ferrari hospitality talking about everything and how you'd be flying back to Korea next week. Carlos said how he was upset that the Korean International Circuit wasn't on the roster anymore and that he'd never driven round it and might never get too.
Charles was very touchy all day, every time he left you to go do something team related he either held onto you while you walked him to wherever he needed to be. You'd wait and he'd rush straight back out pulling you into a hug kissing your neck and burying his head into the crook of it.
"What's wrong Jagiya (Baby)?" you asked looking to him and holding him.
"I just want to go home with you" he sighs, you can tell its not been a good day with the media considering they kept asking about his DNF in last weekends race.
"Mmmmm and we will. But I think you have some more friends to introduce me to" you grinned at him.
He introduced you to Lando and Oscar, who you both enjoyed their vibe. You found it easy to make conversation with Lando and his upbeat energy and Oscar had very funny and comedially timed inputs and ad libs to the conversation but also had a comforting silence you enjoyed.
He also introduced you to Pierre saying how they'd been best friends since they were very young and they'd come all the way through Karting together.
Pierre asked his girlfriend Kika to come over and introduced the two of you. Being similar ages you both got on having similar sense of humors and were into the same things.
You spent the rest of the day walking round the paddock with her, until someone caught you for an interview. It seemed to be Sky News, you'd been privy to Sky News before when they captured you in the Olympics.
"So Y/N it's your first time here! How have you found the energy of the paddock?" he asks.
"Yes, it's been very faced pace I think I've met and spoken to more people today than i have in my 23 years I've been around!" you joke laughing with the presenter.
"And how does it feel, as a Silver Olympic medalist to be around a sport like this?" he asks.
"Yeah, I mean from a very young age I was active and enjoyed different types of sport. My mum really wanted to pursue Taekwando as it's our national sport but I was never an aggressive person. I tried football and then when i was sent to a boarding school I was enlisted for fencing and I just stuck with it!" you answer politely.
"So, as i'm from the UK I would assume that your Premiere League Team is Spurs?" he asks hoping you liked football still to this day.
"Yes, I do. I try watch them at any opportunity i can! Sometimes and don't tell Charlie but I've skipped qually to watch them play" you say biting your lip a little.
The quick interview wraps up and it was safe to say that afterwards Charles Leclerc was now having to share his girlfriend with everyone online who had fallen in love with her personality.
"You look cute here!" Charles says latter that night a still from your interview on the TV where he'd paused it. You were laughing at something the interviewer had said and you hand was over your face covering it while your sharp eyes crinkled from your smile.
"Mmmm today was fun! I'd like to come to this more often!" you smile at him, flopping down onto the bed and playing with the collar of his red team shirt.
"Yeah? You would?" he asks and you nod before pulling him into a hug.
y/user
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Liked by charlesleclerc and others
y/user: Amazing weekend at my first race! The Scuderia was very exciting. Thank you for the time @scuderiaferrari
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charlesleclerc I love you ❤️ thank you for coming 🔥
2 hours ago
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