#mon daze

[belladazeblog916]

art collection!

here’s some of my ocs! Hope y’all like ‘em!

In order

Mono “Mon-Mon” (he has no last name) Bandit Abel

Claudia Ronshoku

Lemon Evergreen

Silvia Daze

Silver “Silvie” Daze

[koushirouizumi]

( For those who never quite caught it Yet...

The "Dark Chosen" {+'Mons!!} appear{ed} in "DAZE"! )

[pearlymel]

𓏲 ˖. sum. Neuvillette has this urge to show everyone you are his. And also to worship you as his beloved wife.

Warnings: NSFW, fem!reader, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, breeding, creampie, mentions of children, mention of petnames (Mon amour, Mon cœur, honey, etc.).

Wc: 2k

Notes: to my bestie who knows who they are, if you see this, no you didn't (you're blind you just don't know it.)

You feel like you're resting above the clouds with how comfortable you were in Neuvillette's arms, cradling you like you were the most precious thing, savouring each featherlight caresse of his hand around your thighs and stomach.

His face was buried in your hair, both the strands of your hairs mixing colours into the most beautiful shades and textures. You're too sleepy to listen to his soft whispers, but you can hear him talk... about some baby...

Baby... Wait, baby? He was referring to you, right? Surely.

"Wouldn't it be nice?" His soothing voice snapped you out of your daze, your body rolling around to face him. "Sorry, i wasn't listening." Your lips curl downward, which makes him kiss your sleepy eyelids with a soft chuckle.

"My apologies, i was discussing a certain fantasy to myself... How it would be lovely to see our little ones one day being in our arms."

It takes you a hot minute for his words to soak in. You blink twice, part your lips slightly in shock with the gears in your head moving ever so slow, "Honey, it's a lovely thought. Are you serious about this?"

He nods, “the satisfaction I feel at the thought of everyone realizing that you’re carrying my child makes me want to throw all my propriety out the window.” His hands moved down to your hips and he slowly rolled you onto your back, with him now on top. He kept a firm grip on your hips as he laid himself between you, his head resting on the area where your neck and shoulder met.

“I’m aching,” he muttered. “To see you bear our child, dear one. To fill you up completely.”

"To be filled?" You swallow thickly, the air was suddenly getting hotter, or was it just the heat of this summer that's making your neck all warm?

“Filled up to the brim, mon amour.” he spoke so softly, it was criminal to even have a sweet voice while speaking such words.

"A little vulgar, coming from the Iudex." You fail to bite back the urge to tease.

“My lady,” he spoke in a low, gruff tone this time, lifting his face to lazily kiss your jawline. “You of all people should know how you manage to make me lose my composure." Neuvillette muttered while peppering your skin with the marks of his lips.

All this baby talk was surely rubbing off you, and surely it wasn't because of his sweet talking or that you were ovulating...

"I need you." It was your turn to whisper, fingers finding their way to brush his hair and to wrap your arms around his neck. He continued peppering your neck with soft, sensual kisses, his hands slowly starting to caresse under your thighs, playing with the elastic band of your panties under your oversized shirt, tempted to just rip them off you.

"Are you trying to tempt me to take you right now?"

"Yeah?" You bat your eyelashes innocently at him, "i want you to fill me up like you said."

Oh, archons.

Neuvillette visibly shivered as he heard those words — your smile was as innocent as a lamb’s, yet the sultriness of your voice spoke of nothing but sin.

He claimed your lips in a deep, bruising kiss, his tongue seeking entry and exploring the sweet confines of your mouth. Neuvillette’s hands roaming across your body again, but this time they were more assertive — desperate, almost.

He wanted you. Needed you. In the rawest, most primal way possible.

"We can always go slow, no rush." Neuvillette relaxed a little at your words, his breath shuddering as the tension slowly left his body.

“Slow it is, then.” He murmured against your skin, as he slowly, painstakingly began to move himself down your body, pressing kisses down the expanse of your stomach as he continued to trail his way down. “You tell me when to stop if it hurts, alright?”

"Mhmm," you smile lazily at him while he looked up at you from his spot between your legs, his expression a mix of both tenderness and hunger. One tug down, and your panties were down to your ankles. His lips began trailing kisses up your inner thighs at first before licking a long stripe along your slick folds, and you were already trying your hardest not to crush his head with your thighs, even when that's all he'd ever want.

And when his tongue starts flicking and sucking on your already sensitive clit, like he was practically making out with your pussy, treating it with such gentleness and care, is when you also start being more vocal.

He made sure he was never hurried because this was an intimacy act he enjoys having the pleasure doing with you.

Neuvillette would occasionally glance at your face, watching your expressions closely for even the slightest hint of discomfort, but your face was only twisted in pleasure, eyes half-lidded while you panted softly as you stared up straight at the ceiling. It fills him with pride knowing you enjoy this just as much.

You don't notice how your fingers weave through his hair, not yet pulling, more like pulling him back so you could grind against his face. He was more than happy to accept your invitation, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he moved his lips closer to your core.

He began to move his mouth in earnest at the sound of your moans from above, his tongue working with determined flicks, sucking harder so he could finally taste the reward of your honeyed essence.

"S-so good to me—" you start panting heavier now, your hips rubbing against his mouth, and he found it impossibly alluring — the knowledge that you were deriving such pleasure from his mouth alone was driving him mad. To the point that it was hard to try not to hump against the bed mattress with how painfully tight and uncomfortable his pants felt.

Your husband wanted — needed — you to come. He wanted to feel you unravel on his tongue. He intensified his assault on your core, his lips, tongue and mouth working in tandem, determined to draw out every drop of ecstasy from your body.

"A-ah, wait—" your thighs twitch together when he starts sucking harsher on your swollen clit. You felt your throat already dry up, how you were on the verge of tears when you finally came with a shuddering breath.

Neuvillette took in every second of your climax, groaning in satisfaction as he felt you come undone under his ministrations. His mouth continued to work against you as you came down from your climax, greedily licking and tasting you as he continued to draw out the last throes of your orgasm.

His face emerged from between your legs, the evident glisten on his face from the slightest light from outside was enough to make you breathless.

"the sweetest treat," he murmured, his voice low and huskier than before as he began to make his way back up to your face. "So pretty, coming all on my tongue.." You don't say anything but bring a hand to the back of his head and pull him in for a sweeter kiss.

Finally.

He leaned in to meet your lips, groaning against his mouth at the taste of you that still lingered on his lips. He quickly deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entry as he claimed your mouth in another romantic dance.

Neuvillette was all too happy to satisfy your hunger, He was like a man possessed, as if he was trying to devour you whole — his kisses were hot, hungry, and full of want.

You helped him off his tight confinements so fast next, letting out a sigh of relief as the cool air hit his weeping flushed tip.

Not wanting to wait any longer, he inhaled sharply as he slowly, deliberately began to push himself inside you — his eyes fixed on your face, watching closely as your face contours everytime his fat tip would inch in your hole.

He let out a long, low moan at the sensation, his arms shaking as he held himself up above you, "so tight..." He continued to ease himself inside of you, every inch seemingly drawing out another low groan from his lips. It took all of his willpower to keep his pace slow and gentle, he was restraining himself, trying his damndest to go slow for your sake.

"s- so good," you whimpered, back arching off the bed, fingernails marking crescent on his skin while your other hand tore the bedsheet off the mattress from how much you were twisting it.

He was losing it. every sound and movement you made was driving him wild. He lifted one of your legs, holding it against his hip as he continued to push inside of you, deeper, deeper, making you unintentionally clamp down around him with each welcomed inch of his cock.

"H-hold on," he panted, his voice a low, strangled hiss, "don't... don't do that, or I'll... I'll..." He trailed off, holding your thighs in a bruising grip to ground himself from spilling too quickly inside of you, and he could, but he would never leave you unsatisfied.

"you okay, Neuvi?" You try teasing him a bit, this time tightening around him on purpose. His entire body shuddered violently at your action, a strangled moan escaping his lips as you tightened around him again like a vice. His hips instinctively jerked forward, seeking friction against you, and his control snapped.

"Mon cœur, you're teasing me..." he uttered in a hushed tone against your ear, "you're trying to drive me mad, aren't you?" You start to slowly rock your hips back and forth against him, taking his hand and interlacing your fingers together. "I'm just trying to please my lover." You hum back.

"I'm trying so hard to be gentle and patient... and you're not helping—mhm, at all."

"It's okaaay. Don't be gentle."

His restraint finally snapped, Neuvillette let out a low growl as he grabbed your hips and slammed himself into you. The sounds your moans and whimpers of pleasure were like music to his ears, he could vaguely feel your nails scratching down his back, the pain only adding to his ecstasy as his continues ramming into you like a starved beast.

Neuvillette's strokes would be powerful, rough, bordering on brutal, as he sought to breed you with his seed. He would grip your hips, holding you steady as his cock throbbed with every thrust. nothing but ragged pants and grunts filled the air, his body straining with the effort of holding back his release, he was close, so close to finding his release, but he needed to watch you fall apart first.

He let out a growl as he felt your teeth sink into his skin, his cock continuing to kiss the deepest and sweetest parts inside of you, making your eyes instantly roll back. his pace becoming brutal as he slammed into you relentlessly, his voice nothing more than a ravaged whisper against your ear.

"Come for me, love. Let go."

As he felt you come for him with a strangled cry of his name, he followed after, burying his face deep into your neck as his own release came over him, a thick load shooting straight into your womb, it's so much— creamy ropes of cum that quickly filled you to the brim.

It was hot and dizzying.

with his seed slowly seeping out of you, he immediately tried pushing himself deeper into you, if that was even possible, keeping it all plugged in, "S- so much for you, my sweet." He gave your hand a gentle squeeze as he comfortably laid on top of you, his other hand tracing down to your hips and belly.

"shall we start thinking of baby names, hm?"

Do you guys think he moans in french (sorry)

[baeshijima]

— “hands off! i’m taken!”

for the first time in your drunken daze, you don't recognise your own husband.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 983 wc, fluff, (attempts at) humour, mentions/reference of alcohol consumption

A/N : neuvillette is in pain (emotional) while you are in pain the morning after (literal).

it’s not often neuvillette finds free time amongst the seemingly endless piles of papers on his desk. when he does get some free-time, he always makes sure to treat you out to the places you most recently show interest in. however, these evenings out more often than not result in you having one too many drinks. (“it’s a rare evening date!” you would tut, waving a finger at him while your free hand holds the wine glass.)

he worries for you and your health after all, and he most definitely doesn't want you to experience these so-called "hangovers" you bemoan about as he coddles you through it all the mornings after.

and so what better way to help prevent such a tragedy than by putting a stop to it prematurely?

“hands off! i’m taken!”

…or so he thought.

regardless, that doesn’t change the fact neuvillette now stands in the middle of one of the (now quite humid) private rooms in the upper floor of hotel debord, clutching his stinging hand close to his chest while staring at your huffing form in a mixture of hurt and shock. he blinks once, twice, thrice as he slowly begins to process your words — or, lack of.

“pardon?”

“i said,” you stress, narrowing your gaze at him as you begin to sit up, “hands off! i’ll have you know i’m happily married to the loveliest, most beautifulest man in teyvat and i don’t need some… some meddlesome old creep trying to get in between that.”

were this quite literally any other day besides one you were drunk on, neuvillette would be jumping for joy over the moon (metaphorical… probably) and documenting this moment in his diary he keeps safe and secured in a locked drawer under his desk, positively cooing and sighing in pure adoration at your adorable self.

(he also doesn’t have the heart to tell you beautifulest isn’t exactly a real word, but he’s flattered all the same. and it makes you that much more adorable in his eyes.)

alas, this isn’t any other day. no, instead it is a day which marks his drunk spouse being unable to identify their own husband, and your intoxicated words render him silent. 

now, don’t get him wrong, he’s glad you are, for a lack of better words, raring to defend your marital status and honour when intoxicated. however…

‘meddlesome old creep’? is that how he appears? he thought he looked quite dashing this evening, what with the way you sang his praises after he got himself dressed and questioned if you were actually married to one another.

then again, he supposes it’s still accurate to say you’re still questioning whether or not he is your husband. just not in the joking manner you initially did.

seeing how you’ve begun to grow a little restless with his prolonged silence, neuvillette awkwardly clears his throat and begins in what he hopes is a tone which masks the minor betrayal your words caused. “i’m glad you feel that way about our marriage, mon cœur, but—”

“stop!” neuvillette’s mouth instantly ceases movement. “how… how dare you, a stranger, call me that! just who… who do you think you are? my husband?”

“actually, i am.”

you blink at him. “you’re what?”

“i am your husband. neuvillette.” in all honesty, he doesn’t know why he’s nervous. perhaps it’s your scrutinising gaze causing him to sweat, taking him back to the first days when he could finally put a name to the emotions you brought out from within him — ones which have never weakened, but only seem to grow stronger as the days pass by. his hands clam up, and he’s glad you can’t see him wiping his palms against the fabric of his clothes from where you sit. even when you’re drunk, you tend to remember the most random moments. more often than not, they end up being in some relation to him.

(neuvillette laments the times where you only remembered his brief loss of composure.)

after a few more agonising seconds of staring, you speak up once more. “you’re lying.”

there are many things neuvillette wishes to say in response — such as showing your wedding rings, pulling out the small polaroid of you both nestled within his inner coat pocket, recalling the first day you met, the first day you talked, the first “thank you” you ever said to him, the first—

quickly, he snaps himself out of this spiral. just in the nick of time too, for you open your mouth to say something else. “my neuvillette is cute and lovely and pretty and everything a person could only dream to have.”

is he not cute right now? is he not lovely and pretty right now? is he not everything a person could only dream to have right now? what makes the him through your drunken lens so different to the him in your memories?

against his better judgement, he decides to ask the big question.

“then… may i ask what i am?”

“a liar.” and, as if to rub salt in the wound, you add, “i don’t like liars.”

neuvillette feels as though he could cry.

(when you awoke to a pounding headache the next morning, the last thing you expected was your husband brooding on the edge of the bed, his back facing you as he mumbled something along the lines of, “i would lie for you… not to you…” though it was a little hard to tell amidst the incessant pitter-patter of rain against the window.

despite racking your brain in an effort to figure out what caused him to be in such a state in the first place, the only things you remembered from last night were him wiping his hands on his clothes, as well as him looking as though someone slapped him across the face.

yeah. perhaps it is best you don’t tell him that.)

mon cœur = my heart, which can be read as my sweetheart/other half/life, etc.

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[uluvjay]

Tipsy- C. Leclerc

Charles Leclerc x fem! Reader

In which you take care of a slightly drunk charles

Warnings?; Kissing, being under the influence, fluff, kinda suggestive, I apologize for any errors!

“Mon Amour!” You heard through the speaker as you answered Pierre’s call.

“Hi char” you smiled at the sound of your boyfriend’s slurred voice.

“I need you to come get him, he keeps asking for you and complaining he’s gone to long without kisses” Pierre groaned as he more than likely fought away your boyfriend’s hands.

“Tell him I’m on my way” you laughed as you heard Charles whines in the background.

Pulling up to the crowded entrance of the club you found Pierre holding up a noticeably drunk charles who seemed to be talking his friends ear off.

The sight of your car had charles immediately perking up, pointing to your car excitedly as Pierre began making his way to the passenger side door.

“Hi Chéri” Charles blushed as he made it into the seat beside you.

“Hi baby” you giggled at his dazed face, eyes tired but looking at you with the utmost love.

“Here’s his phone and wallet” Pierre spoke, handing you Charles belongings before buckling his friend in and bidding both of you goodbye as he shut the door.

“Are we going home?” Charles asked after a few beats of silence.

“Yes”

All you got in return was a small hum of happiness before you felt one of his ringed hands place itself on top of your thigh.

You had thought he had fallen asleep until you turned to check on him once you reached a red light, turning to find at him already looking at you.

You went to speak but got cut off by his lips attaching to yours, his hand that had been on your thigh now held tightly onto your jaw as his lips moved against yours.

You could taste the vodka and mixers on his tongue and while the taste made you slightly quiver, you didn’t pull away until the car behind you honked and you noticed the light had turned green.

“No, no, baby come back.” He whined as you pulled away from his lips.

“Lights green Char, I’ll give you plenty of kisses once we get home.” You smiled softly as the now pouting man beside you.

He behaved for the rest of the short car ride and kept quiet up until the doors of your elevator shut. The second the doors were sealed and the metal box began its journey up to your floor, Charles had your body pinned against the wall behind you and his lips locked on yours.

It was sloppy and you were positive that his lips had missed yours a handful of times but you couldn’t find yourself to truly care.

He whined when you pulled away from his lips at the sound of the elevator dinging to signal that you had reached the floor of your apartment.

“Come on big guy, let’s get you inside.” You giggled as he wrapped his arms around your waist and followed close behind you.

He didn’t let go even as you made it into the bathroom, turning yourself around in his arms you grasp his cheeks in your hands making him look at you.

“We have to brush your teeth baby.” You smiled.

“Nooo, can’t we do that tomorrow? Just wanna go to bed.” He whined.

“No we have to do it now.” You laughed as you slipped from his arms and put some toothpaste on his toothbrush.

“No” he shook his head as you brought the toothbrush to his lips.

“Yes char, please.”

“No”

“Yes”

“No”

“No”

“Yes-Hey! That’s not fair.” He whined at your trick.

“You still said yes so open up.” You breathed a breath of relief when he finally huffed out a sigh and opened his mouth.

After brushing his teeth you guided him to your shared bedroom, pulling the covers back on his side of the bed you told him to take his clothes off.

“You love getting me naked don’t you.” He giggled as he pulled his tight shirt over his head.

“Just take your clothes off Charles.” You laughed with a shake of your head.

“M’ just saying, you’re always impatient to get me out of them when the ti-ow!”

You did your best to hold in your laugh as he face planted onto the carpet of your bedroom floor, his foot that was still stuck in his pants held in the air while the rest of his body sprawled out on floor.

“It’s not funny.” He whined as he turned on his back and ripped the pants off before standing up in his feet, hands on his hips while he scowled at you.

“You’re right I’m sorry baby, why don’t you come get into bed and I’ll give you a ton of kisses as my apology.” You smiled.

“Mmmm..okay.” He shrugged making his way yo his side of the bed and climbing in.

A proud smile took her your face as you watched him get comfortable under the covers however it was quickly wiped away when hands curled around your hips and pulled you down onto the bed.

“Charles!” You scolded as you turned your body to face him.

“What?” He giggled from his spot next to you.

“What the hell was that!”

“Wanted you next to me.” He shrugged, “now where’s my kisses?”

-

[mv1simp]

Into It ♥️ Part 2 of 3

Max Verstappen x Girlfriend!Reader

and she don’t really like it (but she needs me, yeah)

the one in which you’re newly dating your gorgeous boyfriend, max verstappen, after months of pining and flirting. he’s the perfect gentleman, so romantic and treats you just right! now how do you tell him that you’re desperate for mad max to come out and rail ur insides without sounding like a freak 😚

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, dom/sub, size kink, Charles used as a plot device to make Max jealous soz, orgasm denial, classic kinky shit, 4k WC

PART ONE HERE ♥️ PART THREE HERE ♥️

That’s how you found yourself on a girls’ night out in Monaco’s new hottest club, downing three shots in a row. Woah, woah girl!! your best girlfriend exclaimed, what’s the occasion? You huffed and avoided eye contact, prompting her to lean in conspiratorially, trouble in paradise with your boy Maxie? This time you glare at her in response and she grins in satisfaction, knowing she's caught you.

A few more shots later and you were drunkenly rambling about your tales of sexual frustration to her, about all the attempts at seducing your boyfriend, all the unfulfilled fantasies. She laughs, so you’re saying you’re upset your boyfriend acts too sweet to you to be rough with you in the bedroom? You nodded glumly, squishing your face against the bar countertop. I’m the worst girlfriend ever. I don’t deserve an angel like max!

Your girlfriend rolled her eyes at your melodrama. Girl, no. We all need to get dicked down hard. You need to be straight up with him. Besides - she smirked - he’s the most chaotic driver on the grid. I’m sure he can provide everything you want and much, much more.

Squinting, you tried to make sense of her words through your drunken thoughts. Logically you knew she was right - you should just tell Max honestly what you desired so badly - but even imagining how he might react when he obviously considered you to be his sweet, innocent girlfriend made you feel too embarrassed, even now. More drinks, you declared promptly. Your girlfriend shrugged, handing you another shot. Cheers to that!

An hour later you found yourself on the dance floor, having the time of your life. Twisting and grinding the night away, initially with your friends but at some point you stumble across Charles and Lando, who had joined your group at the club. Giggling, you threw your arms right around Cha, who you had known from living in Monaco the last few years. Chaaa!!! It’s so good to see you!! You’ve had such a fantastic year in Ferrari, I’m so proud of you-

Charles chuckled good naturedly at your drunk ramblings, wrapping an arm around you to steady you. He made eye contact with Lando, gesturing to his phone, to which the other boy mouthed already on it - having texted Max to come pick up his normally very responsible, well behaved girlfriend who had hilariously gotten far too wasted. Charles guides you away to get you a drink - water, sorry mon cherrie - he sweetly apologises as he takes the beer can you had grabbed instead and replaced it with a clear bottle. You pouted, struggling to stand up straight, and leaned right into him, arms around his shoulders, letting him feel all of you. And he definitely could, given your choice of outfit tonight - a silky long sleeved minidress hugging your body perfectly, with a low cut sweetheart neckline giving the taller man a perfect view of your cleavage. Charles’ eyes widened in surprise - in all his years of knowing you, you had never acted like this before. He reached for your waist again to steady you as you start to lean to one side again.

Unfortunately, this was exactly the picture Max found you two in.

Before Charles could even put a finger on you, a strong arm wraps around your waist from behind, yanking you backwards against a firm chest. You stumbled, confused, and tipped your head up only to come face to face with your boyfriend. Except even in your drunk daze, you could tell your boyfriend looked absolutely furious. You vaguely hear him snarl something aggressively towards Cha - Keep your fucking greedy hands off her - To which the monegasque driver innocently raised his hands in defence, attempting to explain, but Max doesn’t give him a chance as he leans down and tosses you over his shoulder, making you yell out in surprise. Maxie, you gasped as he quickly navigated you out of the club towards his Aston Martin Valkyrie, his fast pace making you dizzy - Maxie, slow down, I didn’t say bye to Cha-

A hard smack on your ass cuts you off, making you squeal and eyes boggle at the unexpected rough treatment. Max had never, ever used his force on you like that. Oh, we’re way past the point of that, Princess. I’m taking you straight home, Max growls as he drops you into the passenger seat, jaw clenched as he clicked your seatbelt in. He tossed a bottle of water in your lap as he started the car and speeds off. You gulp it down greedily, desperately trying to sober up a bit and process where on earth this behaviour from your usually sweet boyfriend had come from.

By the time he parked in his garage, you had started to think a bit clearer and felt nervousness build up, realising you’ve started your first real fight as a couple. Maxie- You try again as you entered the elevator up his penthouse together, Maxie, I’m sorry, I got too drunk- But your boyfriend didn’t even meet your gaze, still staring ahead furiously as you stumbled after him through the front door. You called out again as he stalked off, reaching a hand out to grab his t-shirt and pleading for him to tell you why he was so mad, you had said you were sorry, you just had a bit too much to drink - and he whirled around, letting the full impact of his anger implode onto you.

Why am I so angry? Are you seriously fucking asking me that right now? Max spat, stalking towards you and making you back up against the kitchen wall, doe eyed. What do you think? What would you do if your girlfriend leaves in the middle of the night and you find her fucking dry humping your mate in the middle of a club for all of Monaco to see? Huh? Your eyes had gotten wider with each sentence Max had yelled at you, inching back further and further until you were trapped with the hard kitchen wall to your back, Max’s arms caging you against it as he glared down at you. Maxie, you say guiltily, taking a deep breath to focus on de-escalating the fight instead of the freakish butterflies you felt in your belly seeing his harsh intensity directly focused on you for once. I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have done it and it genuinely didn’t mean, I only want you-

The tall blonde scoffs, rolling his eyes and making it clear he didn’t believe a word coming out of your mouth. Oh, don’t give me that bullshit now, Schat he sneered, his usual favourite nickname for you now said with a bitterly sarcastic tone, making you half excited at the cruel change in his attitude and half panicked because you had never expected he would get this angry at you. You’ve been acting weird for the past month, half the time I swear you’re trying on purpose to delete my sim racing data, and then leaving your laundry all over the apartment when you get mad at me for not putting a single pair of socks away, and now tonight with Charles? Why did you have to act so pathetic and put yourself all over him?

You take a sharp breath in as Max’s words hit you right in the heart. He’s still glaring down at you, arms caging you in and making it clear he demanded an answer from you. His words had shocked you - all your efforts, all the attempts at trying to turn him on had apparently gone completely unnoticed? And instead he just thought of you as pathetic? You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore, your deepest insecurities now coming out given your already oversensitive emotional state after getting so drunk tonight.

Why? WHY? you scream up at Max, unable to control the hot tears that fill your eyes in response to his words. Max flinches reflexively, not expecting you to become so upset, and you shove him away with your full strength. You barely manage to push him back a couple centimetres as he concedes, but that was all you needed to slip under his arms and away from his intense gaze, not wanting him to see the fresh tears that had started dripping down your cheeks now, the tequila in your system amplifying your emotions. Wiping them off, you spin back around and resume your yelling - Well maybe because I wanted to actually make you mad for once, Max! Maybe because I actually wanted you to treat me with the passion and intensity you treat everything else around you, and yes, maybe it was a stupid way to get your attention tonight, but I thought making you jealous would finally make you lose control and just fuck me hard for once!

Max’s startled look is almost priceless, his baby blue eyes going wide like a deer in headlights as the argument takes a complete 180 from where it had been earlier. But you don’t stop there -

So I’m sorry I made myself look like the pathetic girlfriend of the golden boy, Max Verstappen. I just didn’t know what to do! I tried to get dressed up for you in my nicest lingerie, or make you mad at me so that you had an excuse to punish me however you wanted. But apparently it just wasn’t enough because you never noticed and still treat me like I’m some little precious doll that might break, like I can’t handle seeing you when you’re mad or upset or aggressive. So I guess I am pathetic, so desperate to try so hard to seduce you because I just wanted you to be yourself when you obviously just don’t think I’m hot enough to make you desire me in that way -

Woah, woah woah - okay, this deprecating self talk had gone on way too long for his liking, Max thought, as he closed his mouth that had dropped open in surprise as you finally released the tension and secrets he could tell you had been building up. Schatje, he murmured, approaching you gently, all his earlier anger crumbling away as he wipes your tears.

His strong hands grasped your waist and easily lifted you onto the marble top counter behind you, the twinkling Monaco city lights streaming in through the glass panels behind you. You sniffle, still refusing to meet his eyes, so embarrassed that all your feelings had rapidly come out of you like that. Max lovingly tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. For such a smart and accomplished woman, you can be so incredibly stupid sometimes He starts, quickly continuing when he sees the indignation on your face -

So stupid because I can’t believe you think there is any version of me that doesn’t think you’re the most fucking beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes upon, the only woman who has me wrapped around her pretty little finger. You know I would give you the world, schat, all you have to do is ask me for what you want.

I know, you say, sighing miserably, I know you’ll give me anything I want, you treat me so well, Maxie, and I’ve been the one who’s been having all these dirty thoughts every time I see you shirtless or driving on the track.

Max chuckles, his eyes shining brightly and cheeks flushed from your confession about how crazy he makes you feel. You’ve been holding back on me, liefje he teases, gently rubbing his thumbs across your dusty pink cheeks. Tell me, what naughty ideas has my girl been hiding from me? What’s driving you so wild about seeing me drive?

Your cheeks darken as you struggle to come up with a half coherent response despite your weeks of fantasising. I - um, well, sometimes - sometimes, when a race is going bad and you’re getting really angry on the radio and racing so aggressively against the others, it just really, uh, turns me on? you mumble, eyes purposely looking at his toned chest to avoid eye contact. And it makes me think about what it would feel like to have all that power up against me instead, to help you relax by releasing all your energy out on me instead of holding it in…as you trail off you hesitantly look back up, certain that you had freaked your boyfriend out by your inner thoughts. Instead, you find Max’s ice blue eyes locked intently onto yours, swirling with that stormy darkness you had caught glimpses of before.

Schatje, Max says, his voice low as he steps closer into your space, your soft thighs parting to accomodate his large frame. Are you telling me you’ve been wondering if I can fuck you the way that I like to drive? Aggressive and completely in control? You feel your cheeks flush again at his direct question, and you nod in response to his question, squeaking out a nervous yes.

Max’s eyes darken, lips quirking into a smug smirk you had seen many times on post race interviews and podiums but rarely within your home. He jerks you forward with one arm, pressing your soft tits up against his own firm chest, your legs instinctively tightening around his hips as he stands directly in front of you. So, Schat, you like it when I’m getting angry at you, huh? It all makes so much sense now. The way that you’re always biting your lip and squeezing your thighs together everytime I’m arguing in the garage. You look so innocent, but you’re actually just a dirty little girl, huh? acting like the sweetest WAG on the grid - but you’re just a desperate cocktease, aren’t you?

You let out a breathless gasp at the new sense of superiority in Max’s words, a condescending smirk still on his lips. Your ego rises up hotly and you shake your head in defence, Nuh uh, Maxie, that’s not, I’m not-

He cuts you off by suddenly dropping his hands from your waist and instead curling them around your chubby soft thighs, forming a tight grip easily with his large fingers. Doesn’t matter what you say, baby. The proof is right here. He flips your minidress up, exposing the cute white lacey thong underneath, his ring finger easily hooking around thin material and pulling it to one side. There’s no hiding the sheer wetness coating your cute pink pussy, so much so that there’s strands of it connecting to the thong as Max pulled it back. Bingo, he chuckles darkly. You’re squealing at the gesture as your intimate parts go on full display for him, trying desperately to close your legs with your full strength but Max’s bruising grip on your thighs is unrelenting for once. He laughs at the sight, angling his long fingers forward to teasingly flick against the entrance to your core. Your needy little pussy is already dripping for me, huh schat? It got so wet seeing me get all angry and jealous, didn’t it? Did you get even wetter when I yelled at Charles for touching you? Or maybe it was when I had to smack that fat ass of yours to shut your whining up?

Your eyes go wide as you look up at him in shock, hearing filthy words you never thought you would hear from your sweet Maxie. Your head is starting to spin from his deep voice as he continues his teasing with a cocky look. Oh, liefje. I’m going to fuck you so hard tonight you won’t even be able to remember your own name. You’re going to tell me every single dirty fantasy you’ve had, and you’re not going to stop until I’m completely satisfied with you.

Before you can even reply, Max is lifting you up off the counter and into his arms, navigating you both easily to the large plush sofa facing his penthouse balcony and sitting down comfortably. He pulls you on top of him, bringing your still clothed core to rest directly on top of his muscled thighs. You find yourself face to face with his chest even in this position, having to tilt your head up to look at the much taller Dutchman. He grins smugly, the very picture of a Chesire cat as he looks back at you, large palm resting securely on your plump ass.

So, mein liefje? You going to tell me what you’ve been plotting up? Beg me to fill you up and treat you like the little slut you’ve secretly always been? he demands. You bristle at his arrogant tone, not replying to him after you had already made so many embarrassing confessions. But you can’t deny the wetness that keeps dripping from your core, making a mess all over his pants. Your boyfriend notices your stubborn efforts to keep yourself composed and smirks. That’s how you want to play it, love? He croons at you. That’s ok. I can play this game with you. All. Night. Long. It’s my turn to tease you after all the fun you’ve had prancing around in your tiny slutty outfits, rubbing your ass up on me in the middle of the night and driving me crazy having to hold myself back since you couldn’t be a good girl and just beg for it.

And with that he tenses his thighs up into you, bouncing his leg, making you moan suddenly from the blissful stimulation. He speeds up his pace and you find yourself grinding down onto him, eyes fluttering shut as the feeling your pleasure start to build up -

And come crashing down when Max abruptly stills, startling you into grabbing onto his biceps to steady yourself as you almost topple over. Your - loving, adorable, currently irritiating - boyfriend flashes a cheeky smile at you. Max, you whine, but he continues to look at you expectantly and you huff, caving in and gathering the confidence you had left over from your earlier shots.

Your eyes trail down to his chest, one very common thought of yours immediately springing to mind. I guess I really like how you’re so much bigger than me, you murmur, blush starting to return to your cheeks. You’re so big and sooo strong, always lifting the heaviest things easily and I think a lot about how good it would feel to have your big hands on me, holding me down, moving me in anyway that you wanted for your own pleasure. Your hand moves slowly down his front as you speak, and Max rewards your honesty by smoothly removing his shirt, his muscular chest now on display for you. You continue your exploration and trace across his wide shoulders, feeling your heart speed up at the stark difference in your sizes. And, I think about how sexy you sound when you get angry, cause your Dutch accent slips through and makes it even hotter, and I wondered how you would sound if you gave me orders and told me exactly how you wanted me to please you.

Max’s breathing is getting deeper, revealing that your boyfriend is not as unaffected by your words as he is acting. You bite your thick lips as Max’s hands find their way to your ass again, now simultaneously pushing you down onto his leg while pushing his thigh up at the same time. Yeah, schatje? Like this? You want me to show you just how much stronger I am than you, just how hard I’ve had to hold back in case I hurt you?

His fingers unzip the back of your satin dress, allowing it to easily slide off your shoulders, exposing your perfect tits for him while his other hand navigates between your thigh, easily ripping your thong off on one side and pulling it up your smooth leg to let it dangle on your ankle. His hands set the pace as he easily bounces you up and down on his large thighs, making you moan sweetly in pleasure, then squeal as his mouth latches onto your pretty brown nipple that he had been hungrily eyeing. He licks and kisses aggressively at your boobs, leaving a smattering of hickeys as he went and you can’t control how loud your moans get anymore. Ohhh, Maxie, that feels so good~

He bites down on a nipple, then leaves a gentle lick on the bruise he left, and you feel a lightning bolt shoot straight to your pussy at the feeling 💕 He smirks in satisfaction, noticing the blissful expression on your face. Fuck, you like it rough, don’t you baby? Love when I use your little body however I want? You whine in agreement, all earlier inhibitions completely out the window as you’re lost in the pleasure Max makes you feel. That’s all he needs to escalate this again. His hands grab onto your satin dress, this time easily ripping it into two and tossing it onto the floor. You squeal, eyes wide at his casual display of strength as his palms find their way to your exposed jiggling ass, laying a powerful smack on them as you continue to hump his thigh. Oh! Ohhh, Maxie, mhhmm, feels so good!

Max chuckles at your endearing desperation, delivering slap after slap to your quickly reddening asscheeks as you bounce on him. He delivers another slap, this time leaving his hand there to possessives squeeze the flesh while his other hand wraps around your throat to pulls your lips forward onto his. You moan into the sloppy kiss, so unbelievably turned on at this domineering side of Max. His fingers glide across your ass, teasing your dripping heat from behind and you feel your orgasm quickly approaching. You greedily bury your hands in his soft hair as his tongue swipes across yours, when Max suddenly stands up, pushing you off him and onto your knees on the fluffy carpet. You blink up at him, dazed at the change in position, only to find a wicked smirk on his face as he steps out of his pants, letting his thick and very hard erection swing out, his tip landing just in front of your plush lips.

You feel your face flush, because truly you had not gone down on your boyfriend very much at all. He would often be the one to worship you, lounging for an easy three quarters of an hour in between your legs, his tongue lapping at your wet heat. Your boyfriends’ thoughts mirrored yours exactly, and he leaned down, his hand cupping your chin and forcing a thumb into your mouth. You wanted me to use you, isn’t that right? To be a little fucktoy for me, and let all of my stress out at? Go on, schatje, you know what to do.

You immediately began suckling at his thumb, eyes wide, mascara smudged sexily, and looking up at him sooo obediently that he feels himself get even harder. Fuck yeah, that’s a good girl. He swiped his thumb across your tongue before hooking it around one corner of your lips, stretching it uncomfortably wide to the side. Open that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart. It’s time to teach you how to put it to good use.

You could tell Max was just getting started from the pleased smirk on his face as he watched you get more and more desperate to have him. Fuck, you were in for a long night.

—————————————————————————

A/N: Part 3 is out! Tysm to all of you for the unexpected response!! So glad so many of you liked it, glad I can feed all you thirsty souls hehe 🤭 Comment to let me know what you think cause it’s been a while since I’ve done this! Lmk if you have any ideas/prompts for our manz u want me to write 🫶

[pucksandpower]

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)

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.

[shoyoist]

now that i've read your sub julien fic i need a lil thirst for him to DOMINATE u in bed

I like to imagine him fuckin u in front of the mirror all messy <3 sorry but i cant act normal after his spread came out i love himm

──── 𝐋𝐎𝐖-𝐊𝐄𝐘 : julien loki

content: gn!reader, dom julien + mirror sex, lots of praise and sweet talk, multiple orgasms, mind-break(?) a few generic french terms of affection. a/n: literally never passing up a chance to write for a dark-skinned poc lmaoo thank you for sending this in nonnie!

sometimes, you think julien is so fucking agonizing. but in the best way — if that makes sense.

he's got those gentle eyes, that low-voiced hum, those firm hands. all the right words and all the best moves. he hypnotizes you so easily, like he's a magician and you're a pretty little pet he's picked out from his audience.

he could bite right into you, and you wouldn't even know it. because he'd be murmuring soft, sweet nothings into your skin the entire time, and the tone of his voice is enough to tip you into a daze — you'd let him do anything he wanted.

like you're doing right now.

julien has one hand wrapped around your throat, like a pretty bow-tie that's just a little too tight. his other hand squeezes at your chest, holding your body pressed firmly to his, coaxing little whines out of you with feather-light, teasing brushes of his fingertips at your sensitive nipples. you're sat in his lap, bouncing like a bobble-headed doll while he fucks up into you.

"look, chéri," he nods to the full length mirror propped up by the bed, facing your bodies. he holds your throat a little tighter, kissing the side of your neck gently as he groans with you. "lovely."

you know he doesn't even mind if you don't look, knowing that by this point you're too high on the pleasure he's giving you to respond properly — but your eyes flit to the reflection waiting before you anyway, as obedient as ever for him.

julien sits at the edge of the bed, you in his lap with your legs spread nice and wide so he can watch the way his cock slides in and out of your messy hole. both your bodies glow with a sheen of sweat, and if you look close enough, you can see tear streaks lining your face. "j—julien," you whine. "'m close. getting close."

"yeah? gonna cum for me again?" he chuckles, pressing another soft kiss to your neck. "so easy tonight."

he says that, but that's only because he's gentle with his words. magician's silver tongue. the way he's fucking you has you out of your mind — he's the one that's got you ragdoll-limp in his arms, and he's teasing you, calling you easy. "mh— julien."

your moan is sweet, but julien doesn't sound impressed when he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. "ah, shhh. use your words, love."

the pace of his cock in and out of you doesn't relent, and you're only able to let out another moan in response. his hand slips down from your chest to the space between your legs anyway, touching you just the way you like it.

"hhn, please. nearly there." you let out, and his fingers press just slightly harder, pushing you to the edge immediately. he'd tell you to hold the orgasm and wait till he allows you to cum, but he knows you're past that point. there's no playing with you anymore, fucked out and dumb on his cock.

so he pulls the high out of you like a man at a magic show with a top hat and a wand, letting go of your throat so he can press at your chest and whisper in your ear to breathe deeper and slower, knowing the orgasm lasts so much longer when you're relaxed and dozey. "there you go, mon trésor... so good for me."

his voice comes out just slightly cracked, feeling you flutter around him, tight and warm and wet. you're really so damn good.

"you can take some more, can't you?" he hums, finally bringing his hand back up, cupping your face and turning your lips to him for a kiss. "make me feel good?"

"mmm," you nod, and julien knows you're doing it mindlessly. he sees the tears in your eyes, the blank look in them. he lets out a little laugh, grabbing your hips to adjust your body. he knows you're all his for the taking. as long as he keeps giving you kisses and talking to you sweetly, you'd let him do anything.

"alright, baby." he feels his cock twitch within you, ready to empty another load inside. his grip on your body tightens once more, turning you towards the mirror. "eye-contact with yourself while i fuck you, now. good."

[bedoballoons]

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂

{༻~NNN~༺}

CW: NSFW MDNI!! Reader intentionally makes the guys fail no nut november! Includes: Hand jobs, blow jobs, unprotected s*x, riding, breeding kink (Albedo and Tighnaris) and readers afab! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon amour)

(Includes: Lyney, Albedo, Tighnari, and Xiao)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

"M-mon amour, please slow d-down I'm going to-ahhhahhh!~"

Your thumb flicked over his tip, gathering his precum in the palm of your hand that wrapped around his cock so nicely, he was truly under your spell and you couldn't help but take advantage of it, "Lyneyyyy, cum for me, I'll lick it up just for you~" Your words were dirty, filled with lust while you gazed into his dazed eyes...he knew he'd lost the moment you'd touched him, how could he ever deny his release when you were involved.

𑁍༄Albedo:

"Albedoooo you know you want to, pleeeaaase? Wanna be filled with you, w-wanna carry your love with me~" You moaned into the short blondes ear, his cock so deep inside your tight walls and throbbing after all the teasing you'd been doing, he was so close to loosing to you and you craved it more than anything else.

"N-no can't loose. It's o-only the first day-nghh!"

"Awwwe but won't y-you just for me~" Your cunt clenched around him, your words sending shivers throughout his body...he lost any hold he had on himself, thrusting up into you as his hot seed poured into your womb, leaving you breathless.

𑁍༄Tighnari:

"I-i knew it, I knew you'd find a w-way to make me loose." Tighnari held your body tight against his, hips snapping into yours while tears of joy dripped down your face and your wetness enveloped him. You didn't think your plan would work...but apparently begging him to fill you with him was all he needed to loose it all, "P-please n-need you, n-nnnnghhh p-please!"

"You'll get y-your wish, n-now take it~"

𑁍༄Xiao:

Your tongue slowly ran up the underside of Xiaos member, your eyes locked onto his while he moaned breathlessly, unable to handle even just your teasing....sure he was a stoic adeptus, but he buckled at the knees when your pretty little mouth was wrapped around him. "Y-you are pure evil, m-making m-me loose so easilyyy hnngh!"

You pulled away just long enough to kitten lick his tip with a smile, "If I'm pure evil and you're the conqueror of demons....doesn't that mean you should conquer me too~"

"Aghnnm!"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[eelnoise]

Hey I love your writing! Any chance you’d be willing to do a Sanji and Zoro threesome where they get all competitive about sharing you but maybe they end up making out a lil as well? 😍😍😍 pleasepleaseplease

OMG!!!! the way I had to dash to my pc and write this???!!!! (well, half it. may or may not have finished it during my workout on my phone so pls ignore any formatting issues!! 🙃🙃)

thank you so much for the request, i loved writing it! i hope it helps with your day, too!

emmêlé

zoro x sanji x reader

cw: threesome, double penetration, semi-public sex, praise, degradation, biting, slight zosan

You’re lost in a daze. What started as a late evening in the kitchen with Zoro and a couple of glasses of wine had turned into something else entirely. Sanji, who was cleaning up after dinner, had gotten into it with Zoro, starting with some sort of comment about not liking the way he manhandles you around on his lap.

“Shut up,” Zoro spits in an annoyed huff. “She loves it, don’t you baby?”

“Even if she does, you should be more gentle with her.” Sanji snaps back, pointing angrily at Zoro.

“She’s not fragile, cook.” Sanji’s title rolls from the swordsman’s lips like a threat - low, cold, and full of irritation.

The men speak as if you aren’t there, and before you know it, you’re sandwiched between them in the middle of the kitchen.

Zoro holds you in the air between them with ease, his large and calloused hands tucked under your knees and spreading your thighs wide open as he pounds into your ass - stretching you out in a way that makes your toes curl while Sanji’s nimble fingers hold onto your waist, slowly thrusting into your pussy and moaning low into your ear.

Both of them have their own pace; Zoro’s rough and forceful, the sound of his thighs hitting your ass echoing around the room loudly. Sanji takes his time, wanting to feel each inch of your pretty pussy around him and to really enjoy you.

“Mon amour,” Sanji purrs into your ear as you rest your head on his shoulder, languishing moans and cries of ecstasy warming the crook of his neck. “Si charmant, si bon~” Fuck, you love when he speaks French, especially like this. His words are like candy - sweet and delicious and all for you.

Zoro, in comparison, is much more quiet. His forehead rests on the back of your neck, heavy grunts and groans of his own pleasure almost inaudible amidst yours and Sanji’s - the latter’s constant whimpering and murmurs in his native tongue quickly getting on Zoro’s nerves. He wants to hear you, needs to hear just how fucking good you sound stuffed and filled like this. 

Sanji is denying him that.

“Fuck,” Zoro growls, moving his head to look at the culprit of his discontent. “You’re too god damn loud, cook.” His brow furrows, but his brutal pace doesn’t let up - if anything it speeds up. Zoro’s grip on your legs tightens, instinctively pulling you closer to his chest in a possessive manner. He ignores your sobs, still staring intently at Sanji with an air of annoyance.

“A gentleman- ah!” Sanji’s words are cut short by a long and filthy moan from the way your pussy flutters around his cock. His eyes close for a moment as he picks up his pace, fucking you closer to the rate that Zoro is. Once his eyes snap back open, he meets Zoro’s glare with one of his own. “A gentleman always indulges on a meal so freely given.”

Zoro clicks his teeth in irritation, his gaze turning to your pathetic and limp form between them. “At least we both know who makes you feel the best, right princess?” He rumbles into your ear, his deep voice sending sparks flying through your veins. Zoro chuckles darkly and bites down on your shoulder with enough force to make you cry out. “And who makes you scream their name.” 

“Sex is more than just primal lust, moss-head.” Sanji spits out, the hands around your waist digging into your plush skin. “Do you believe him?” He asks you, voice noticeably softening when he sees your fucked-out and glazed-over expression. “Sounds to me like he doesn’t know how to really appreciate you, sweetheart.” 

Words have long left you, reduced to nothing but weak and hoarse moans and attempts at vocalization. Unable to answer, the two continue to absolutely ruin you. Both of your arms are wrapped around Sanji’s shoulders, holding onto him tightly and clawing at the flesh of his back. 

“She loves being treated like a slut.” Zoro says, snapping up into you hard for a few moments. You tighten around the two cocks in you at his words, unable to hold back an absolutely salacious yelp. “See? Fuckin’ lives for it.”

Sanji shakes his head, one of his hands coming to the back of your head and petting your hair gently.  His touch is soothing, and you hum into it with a weak smile - a quick moment of peace. He smirks smugly at Zoro, as if having proved a point. 

Your breathing grows heavier still, and with a series of grunts and whines you know you're on the precipice of pleasure. "S-shut up and don't s-stop!" You manage to whisper out in a huff. 

Sanji's moans escalate in tandem with yours. He loves how you feel around him and just knowing that he's playing a part in pushing you over the edge makes his cock throb wildly inside you. "Ma chérie, you sound heavenly." He murmurs, continuing to drip words of praise in both languages for you.

Zoro isn't having any of this. Sanji has to shut the fuck up if he's to hear you cum. He doesn't care how much you like it, even if the soft affection is pushing you further into your release. You tumble over into euphoria with a shout, nails slicing into Sanji's skin and lulling your head backward onto Zoro's shoulder. 

As the pleasure floods you, Zoro's at his wit's end with just how loud the cook is. He props one leg up onto a chair and releases his grip on your left thigh, letting it fall to his own to keep you as steady as possible to ride out your high before grabbing the back of Sanji's head forcefully and bringing him closer. "Shut the fuck up and let her sing, cook." He growls and shuts him up the only way he knows how to at this moment - by harshly pressing his lips to Sanji's. 

Sanji's eyes widen, and he wants to pull away but can't bring himself to. Zoro's kiss is rough and it's full of teeth and tongue, and that combined with how fucking good you're squeezing his cock - he cums. His moans are muffled by the lip lock, but the way he's spilling into you endlessly indicates just how much the act has subdued him, mind, body, and soul. 

You take the opportunity to kiss along Sanji's jawline, each mumbled whimper and whine from the man above you makes you giggle. It's cute to see him melt, and you never get tired of it. 

Zoro breaks the kiss with a smirk. "Now," he growls, turning his attention back to you. "Back to filling you the fuck up."

[sv5hive]

keep the lights on | charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: none!

word count: 694

notes: lets act like this isn't the first time i've posted since july guys thanks! not proofread at all it's like midnight pls.

masterlist!

placing the copious amount of snacks and popcorn on the table, you plopped onto the sofa and snuggled up to your boyfriend.

"so, what did you pick?"

you looked ahead of you to the screen and began reading the summary, brows pulling together tighter with every word.

"a horror movie? are you sure, charles? i thought you hated these kinda things."

"well, i haven't watched many of them, but i know you're a fan of them, so what's the harm in trying?"

the grin on your face grew at his effort as you nodded along to his words, still doubtful of his ability to sit through it in its entirety.

"alright, but you're not gonna be scared and get nightmares after, are you?"

"me? no, if anything i'll be your knight in shining armour tonight if you get scared!"

the movie began playing as you pushed yourself deeper into charles side with a knowing smirk, the screen casting a dim glow onto your faces.

"ok, if you say so."

and in all fairness to charles, he did manage to hold out for almost an hour before you noticed him flinch at a particularly unnerving jump scare. nudging him gently, you turned the volume down and whispered softly into the darkness.

"charles, you ok?"

he turned to you slowly, an almost dazed look in his eyes. and you weren't sure if it was the lighting or your vision, but his skin seemed positively pale.

"hm? yeah, yeah i'm fine."

you raised an eyebrow at his half-hearted response, wondering if he was regretting his choice (albeit a romantic gesture).

"are you sure? we can watch something else if you want, i think i saw harry potter earlier-"

he quickly brushes you off and grabs the remote to raise the volume again, rubbing your thigh gently.

"shhh, i'm ok. it's almost done anyways."

he turns back to the movie but you let your eyes linger on him for a few seconds longer, searching for any doubt but not finding any. hesitantly, you start watching again. and you really did mean to keep an eye on him, but found yourself getting sucked into the movie as time went on.

the room sunk into darkness as the credits began rolling and a dull silence filled the air. reaching for the tv remote, you looked over to your boyfriend next to you.

"so... what did you think?"

seeing the ghostly look on his face, you started to wonder whether a horror movie was really the best choice at this time of night.

"charles, you ok? you look a little...uhm..."

"me? oh i'm fine, mon coeur. see, i told you i would be fine! it's just a movie after all!"

he puts the bowl of popcorn on the side and stands to turn the lights back on. you sit up and turn to watch him curiously.

"are you sure? it's ok if you're scared it's meant to do that!"

he shakes his head, adamant that he wasn't affected by the chilling scenes.

"i am not scared. but, we are absolutely sleeping with all the lights on tonight. and that has nothing to do with the movie, before you ask."

you bite back a grin and look at charles pointedly.

"oh really?"

he nods his head rapidly, sitting back down on the sofa next to you.

"yep. and also, one of us has to stand outside the bathroom if the other one is using it."

this time you couldn't help it and let out a loud cackle.

"charles, my love, i know you only watched it for me and i thought it was really sweet of you but please, you don't have to torture yourself like that. i am just as happy to watch harry potter or cars with you."

charles breathes out a deep sigh of relief and runs his hands over his face at your words, a nervous smile on his face as he declares his own confession.

"oh thank god. i almost threw up in my mouth when the serial killer popped up out of nowhere. and i wasn't kidding earlier, i want all the lights on tonight."

[recluselecter]

Card Spring

gambit x nonverbal! reader

WARNINGS: gender neutral reader, extreme spoilers for episode 2, badly written dialogue for Remy, grief, the reader goes nonverbal, not proofread, complete fluff, self indulgent, I needed comfort.

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!!!!

After Storm leaves, a nonverbal reader sticks to their room, playing with old cards she’d given them. Gambit decides to teach them some tricks to try to cheer them up.

My eyes focus solely on the cards in my hands. The red and black letters and numbers flash as I try to spring them from one hand to the other. At least one always finds its way on my blanket. My legs crossed, they fall into the space in my lap, semi-contained until a knock forces me out of my daze. The cards fly from my hands, scattering on the mattress and falling to the floor. I sniffle, climbing down desperately to gather them as quickly as I can. The door opens as I find my favorite card, one that Remy had painted. The Ace of Hearts is painted over, the black paint hiding the original art. A bright red heart is centered, an anarchy symbol in the middle. I tucked it into the deck silently, my chest tightening as I find the Ace of Spades, the one Ororo had painted. The light blue is combined with white lightning that intersects to create an ‘A’. Her line work was made up of words she wanted to convey to me. She spoke of our friendship, our sibling-hood, the reasons why she gave me the deck. Tears fell for the fourth time that day when I saw the card.

The Ace of Clubs and the Ace of Diamonds both lay on the bed, unpainted. Logan and Rogue were supposed to paint theirs, but never got around to it. Logan’s had a thin white base coat, the letters still seen through the first and only coat. He’d gotten bored, and got up and left Remy, Ororo, and I at the table where we were painting. 

“Cher?” Remy’s voice shocked me out of my thoughts. I looked up, finding him in my doorway, a concerned look on his face. He must’ve saw my red and puffy eyes, and decided to enter. I finished gathering my cards, and nestled myself back into the nest of blankets I’d made. He sat down on the edge of my bed tenderly, his usual joking demeanor gone. “Jean says you’re not talkin’?” I didn’t look at him, instead opting to try to spring the cards again. I tried with my hands closer than before, being more careful to not let them fall. I still failed.

“Like that nonverbal thing you was talkin’ about?” He tilted his head, trying to see my reaction. I nodded, semi-successfully springing in the meantime. I lost a few cards, but not nearly as many as the previous attempts. Remy’s eyes fell to my hands, recognizing the deck immediately. He watched me struggle for a minute before scooting closer to me. He used some spare blankets to make himself a nest, and leaned in to watch my “technique.”

“Mon ami, what is this hand doing?” He sighed, pointing at my left hand. I demonstrated how I was catching the cards with the hand, and he shook his head. “You want your pinky out like this,” he stuck out his own hand, showing how he would hold the deck himself. “That way, the cards can’t fall out your hand.”

When I tried the way he showed me, I lost less cards. I smiled a little, testing the new hold. After a minute, he nodded. “Good! Now, that other hand? Needs work.” He pulled his own deck from his pocket, explaining how to hold the cards so that there was air between each card, making it easier to make each individual card spring on it’s own. “This makes the cards not go all choppy. Makes it smooth!” I nodded, observing his hands closely. 

Half an hour passed, and my tears were dry, and I had a decent deck spring under my belt. I smiled at Remy, and he grinned back. “On the road to becomin’ me!” He went quiet for a minute, watching me practice before he spoke up.

"It's gonna be okay." He said quietly. "We're gonna get 'er back." I looked down at my cards, nodding sullenly. "She's gonna be okay." I wiped my tears away and sniffed. She would want me to be strong about this. Remy smiled when I tucked my cards into their box and removed myself from my nest.

"You want some beignets?" He grinned when I nodded, and threw his arm around my shoulder. As he led me out of my room, I tucked my deck into my pocket, deciding to use it as a reminder of who I was fighting for in the battles to come.

[trendywaifus]

Have you seen the Clorinde leaks? Omfg, she's so HAWT. Gentle sex and getting breed by her is a need. 🤤

I SEEN HER DRIP MARKET AND OMGGGGG SHES SO FINEEE, JUST ONE NIGHT

her light purple eyes trains on the pretty, dazed look on your face. “ so beautiful, mon coeur. “ clorinde pants, steadily rocking her hips against yours. her cockhead rubs against a spongy spot of your slick walls repetitively, eliciting series of prolonged moans from you. strong arms hugs you tighter as you clench around her, cumming on her thick length for the third time tonight.

“ i’m so proud to call you mine. “ clorinde mumbles, letting out a soft groan while she pulls her hips back and fills you up with inches again. she places a gentle hand on your stomach, still holding intimate eye contact with you. “ please, make me a mother. “

[alastorsbookie10228]

Could you do hazbin hotel (romantic) (you pick which characters! I primarily would like husk and angel) x reader that really loves PDA and just make it wholesome and fluffy

OMG GUYS MY FIRST ASK ANFIHFOHVKVEQHOV (i'm literally giggling and kicking my feet)

Hazbin Hotel men + PDA

includes: Alastor, Husk, Angel Dust, Vox, Lucifer

i made all gender neutral

(Vox is NSFW)

Alastor is a very reserved, "no touchy" kind of guy. he usually is kinder and more polite to the people he knows (and gets along with), and when you and him started dating, he started to let down his guard. at first, he was still reserved, but he slowly adapted. when no one's around, he'll hug, kiss, and hold you like nobody's business! (literally lol)

"dear?" Alastor said as he walked over to you in your now shared room. "yes?" you respond, looking over at him. "what is it?" wordlessly, he walked the rest of the way towards you and looked down at you, his ever present smile faltering to a small grin and his eyes hooded. he leaned down and kissed your cheek, his hand placed on the other side of your face. you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him, smiling as his arms snake around your waist. "i love you" you mumble into Alastor's shoulder. "and i love you, mon cher" he responds, sealing the deal with a kiss on your lips.

Husk is...probably not super opposed to PDA, but i feel like he isn't all about it either. he'd be more affectionate in private, or when he's drunk. especially when he's drunk.

"hey babydoll" Husk says to you as you sit on one of the bar stools. you turn to look at him, a small smile on your face as you think "uhm...what?" he smiles at you with a dazed expression as he leans forward. "gimme a kiss, hun" he says, resting his elbows on the wood of the bar and his head on top of his hands. you blush slightly and lean in, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. he watches as you pull away and looks at your lips. "another one, baby" he says and smiles as you lean back in. this goes on for hours. just take the poor baby to bed at this point.

now...we know he's affectionate in public or private. PDA is his way of living, hun.

"hey baby" he says as he sits by you on the couch. he grabs your chin and turns your face towards him and presses a long kiss to your lips. "how was your day, toots?" he asks, laying his head on your shoulder. "it was good. and yours?" you ask and look over at him. "meh. Val had me fucking randos all day. i'm exhausted"

*30 minutes later*

you lay next to Angel in his bed, Fat Nuggets laying between you both, snoring soundly. your head was rested on Angel's chest fluff as he ran his fingers through your hair, his bottom set of arms secured around your waist. he tilts your head up and kisses your lips. "good night, baby" he says with a small smile. "i love you"

Vox is very loving, and he'd want to love on you all hours of the day...but the stupid meetings always get in his way. so that kind of means that he can't really have you latched on to him. so he'll make do with what he has. you.

Vox sat in his chair, watching the screen in front of him. the meeting was only 10 minutes in and he'd already missed you. he missed how your mouth felt wrapped around his length. he decided to send you a text.

7 minutes later, and you were back where he wanted you. under the desk, mouth stuffed with him. you slowly bobbed your head and watched as he held back his moans, tightly gripping his desk.

once that meeting was finished, he grabbed you by the hips and picked you up, slamming you into the chair and plunging his length into you.

okay, now we're talking. so Lucifer isn't opposed to PDA, but he isn't sure he's good at it. he often blames himself for Lillith's absence, and he fears it was because he wasn't good enough. he's just a little baby that needs reassurance that he's good enough...and that his ducks are good enough, too.

Lucifer sat in his office, painting a duck. he hadn't moved in almost 2 hours. you were starting to get concerned. you walked into the room and knocked on the door. "Lucifer?" you say softly and see his shoulders slump slightly. you walk over to him. "honey, you okay?" your worry only increased as you saw the small liquid droplets that were on the desk below his head. he looked up at you. "honey, am i good enough?" he asked, his voice soft and weak. your eyes soften as you kneel down next to him and grab his face. "of course you're good enough, Lucifer. you're the best thing that's ever happened to me!" you lean forward and kiss him, softly smiling as you feel him wrap his arms around you. "i love you" he mumbles against your lips.

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

Mon I think Aaron got a pair of old man (dilf) style reading glasses and at first he’s embarrassed to wear them with the team bc he knows Morgan or Dave will tell him he’s getting old BUT when he wears them at work he notices you get unable to focus in the team meeting and you’re all dazed basically until he takes them off and tucks them away but bonus point that this interaction makes him feel very desired and wanted 😵‍💫 and maybe he’ll show them off to you in private later 🤫

The Glasses

Warnings: Pining?? Sort of?? Maybe idk. Nothing smutty but there are some implications. This is like borderline nsfw? Maybe??

Word count: 1.1k

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!bau!reader

A/n: Omg yes. We love dilf glasses on Hotch. He already looks so pretty and desirable but something about glasses on him is different and I need it. I wouldn't say this fic is necessarily nsfw. But I might be willing to write a part two where it becomes smutty. I'll leave this as sfw unless I come to the conclusion that it should be marked otherwise.

Tags: @criminalskies

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle

You're completely distracted and it's all his fault. Him and his downright slutty glasses. The first time you saw him wearing them it was a very brief sighting as he had taken them off after just a few seconds of you being in the room. And ever since then you craved to see him wearing those glasses again. They often made an appearance in some of the very inappropriate fantasies you have about your boss. They'd even worked their way into your dreams at night.

The case the team is currently working has been dragging on for a couple of days now and you've gotten basically nowhere with it. The fact that you're sitting across from Hotch as he reads a file with his glasses on is not helping you concentrate on the case in the slightest. And it's stirring something up deep inside you the more you stare at him. Aaron wearing those glasses and looking all serious as he reads is making you very horny if you're being totally honest.

"Y/l/n? Y/l/n. Y/n." You hear Hotch speak your name in a stern tone and you feel his hand grasp yours and he squeezes it. You snap out of your trance. "Hmm? Yeah, what is it, Hotch?" He furrows his brows as he looks at you and pulls his hand away now that he has your attention. "Are you okay? You've been distracted. Every time we sit here looking through files, you seem to be distracted. Is something going on? Are you alright?" Concern is clear in his voice.

What you want to say is "No, I'm not alright. I'm horny and it's your fault because you're wearing dilf glasses that make me want you more than ever. You're very distracting and if you don't put them away right now I'll launch myself over this table and kiss you before dragging you to my hotel room." But you figure that's not really the best thing to say to your boss right now. So you settle for giving him a smile and a nod before looking back down at the file in front of you as you try to force yourself not to look at the beautiful man sitting across from you.

You stare down at the papers but even though you're not looking at him anymore, you still aren't actually focusing on the words on the page because you're so concentrated on not looking back up at Hotch to steal another glance at those glasses. Though eventually you can't help it and do it anyway. You can't really stop yourself as you look back to him.

The glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he scowles down at his papers. You sigh out loudly by accident. No one else is really paying attention to you aside from Emily and Derek sending each other smirks when they notice just why you're so out of it. But the loud sigh makes Aaron look at you again. His glasses are down far enough that he's looking over the top of them to make eye contact with you.

"Y/n, are you sure you're fine?" He asks, sounding even more concerned now.

"What? Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired is all."

He stays silent as he observes you for a moment before nodding and going back to his reading.

This continues as the team starts throwing ideas around. Aaron keeps an eye on you throughout it and he knows your excuse of being tired, while partially true, is definitely not the main reason for your behaviour and he just can't pinpoint exactly what it is. But he realises it must have something to do with him as you can't keep your eyes off of him, and only him. You're not having this problem with any of the other team members. Not Derek, not JJ, not anyone but him.

He goes back to your previous statement about being tired once everyone goes back to sifting through the numerous number of old reports and files from the precinct as you all try to come up with a group of suspects.

Hotch speaks up when he feels your eyes on him again. "Would you like me to get you a coffee? I know what they have here isn't very good, but it might wake you up a bit." He glances up at you as he waits for your response. "Yeah, sure. That's probably just what I need."

He nods and stands, in the process he removes his glasses and sets them down on the table. He notices how your eyes follow the glasses and that's when pieces start coming together in his mind. He figures he'll test it out when he comes back.

He leaves and comes back a few minutes later with your cup of coffee and sets it down in front of you. You thank him and he nods then sitting back down. This time, leaving his glasses off. In fact, he actually puts them away so they're out of sight entirely.

This seems to change things. You're more focused on the work. You still give him the occasional glance but you're not full on staring at him with drool practically spilling out of your mouth like you had been earlier.

He leaves the glasses put away and he tries his best to read without them like he used to. He'd known he had needed glasses long ago but he refused to wear them because he didn't want his age to show. He knew he would get some teasing remarks about it from Dave and Morgan. But eventually, it got to the point where he could hardly do the reading part of his job. So he reluctantly had his eyes checked and soon he was wearing glasses that made it far easier to read.

He didn't like the glasses in the slightest. They made him feel old and he didn't like that. But the way you looked at him when he was wearing them, that did something to him. It made him want to wear them.

Unable to work without them, he gets them back out and puts them on. It's hard not to notice the way you immediately look back up from your work. He pretends not to see it.

Over the next half hour you can't help but watch him like he's the most interesting thing you've ever seen. You're fixated on him. And now he is sure it's the glasses that are doing it. He has to bite back a smile. Knowing you apparently find him so attractive with them on makes him feel good inside. He doesn't understand why you would like it, but it's extremely clear that it's doing something for you. He's tempted to show up at your hotel room later to explore this further and see just how much you like them.

[servingrobin]

prompt 16 SCREAMS Sanji. Or 2 for Zoro! Whichever you vibe with more

Ahhh you are so right and this flowed like nothing else

I may also have to write Zoro for 2 as well so expect that posted soon!!

Warnings: dirty talk, the dreaded L-word, mentions of cream pie (wrap it up fellas)

It was your first date. You’d been flirting ever since you’d joined the Sunny, Sanji’s endless compliments wearing you down into a puddle.

When he saw his attention might just be reciprocated he went crazy, left you flowers in every room, handfed you chocolates and sweet treats anytime you even mentioned you were hungry, was in front of you at the barest hint of an enemy.

You lapped up every second of it, you thought his overly chivalrous nature was adorable and every interaction just made you like him more. And when he finally asked you on a proper date - hand flourishing a single red rose towards you, it had been the quickest yes of your life.

Which is how you ended up here, splayed out on his bed as you hand threaded through his blonde locks. His head bobbed up and down as he licked stripes across your nipples, suckling and worshipping both breasts like a priest at the alter.

Sanji’s licks grew more frantic until he finally surged up and captured your lips in a searing kiss, teeth and tongue and hot breath mixing into a lustful daze. Sanji pulled back only briefly to drag the tip of his cock along your folds, gathering the wetness there. He gently pushed against your hole and paused, head just barely entering you.

“May I, mon amour?” His blue eyes were earnest and you let out a giggle, wrapping your legs around him to guide him inwards.

Sanji let out sigh of pure ecstasy as he sank into you to the hilt. He stayed in place a few moments to enjoy the sensation before beginning to lazily thrust, thoroughly enjoying every languid drag against your walls.

He stared down at you with adoration and he steadily increased his rhythm, building to a fast drum of thrusts, his balls smacking obscenely against you every time. Sanji grunted with the exertion, becoming louder by the second.

“That’s it my darling, such a good girl for me.” He was muttering as he pounded into you, lost in the sensation of your body.

Your own climax grew in hot flashes, coiling tighter and tighter with every movement. You squealed out as you felt yourself reach the precipice, legs squeezing even tighter around Sanji’s waist, hands reaching to grasp his hair.

You uttered his name like a prayer as your orgasm crashed through you like an ocean wave, spasming through your body. Sanji groaned as he felt your walls flutter around him and drove as fast as he could, hips growing erratic as he chased his own orgasm.

“That’s it mon coeur, just there, squeezing me so good, just like that….w..where should I come my love?” He bit out through his chanting, eager to reach his end but waiting for your consent.

“Come inside me Sanji.” You breathed out, body still flaring with shockwaves of pleasure as he fucked you.

“Oh…just there….good girl taking it so well…. I…. I LOVE YOU!” Sanji’s declaration was a hasty shout as he pumped into you, furiously filling you with warmth.

He loosened his grip with a few last lazy thrusts, and collapsed into the crook of your neck. You weren’t sure if had even realised what he’d said, and your entire body was too gelatin to do much other than sway his hair to the side and peck his forehead.

“I love you too my sweet chef.”