Tumgik
#***loosely translated from the French
Text
Considering the next episode (s3 ep8) is called "La Locker Room Aux Folles" in reference to the great musical of Le Cage Aux Folles.
I thought I'd bring this similarity up.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
195 notes · View notes
jupitermelichios · 5 months
Text
Today's fanfic writing adventures: reading adademic articles on human sacrifice in Gaul written in French, because dictionaries of mythology all include some weirdly specific details about how the sacrifices were carried out that I couldn't find an actual source for, and this french guy seems to be The leading expert.
I do not speak French
But that's okay, because he cites most of the authors he's drawing from in the original latin, rather than translating them
I also do not speak Latin
But after a couple of hours with translation software and vague memories of my french gcse (which included very few, if any, words relating to human sacrifice or pre-christian pagan religion) I can now confirm...
the article also doesn't cite an actual fucking source for this
6 notes · View notes
Text
*Reads a bit of meta on the translation of Sois sérieux, dit Enjolras - Je suis farouche, répondit Grantaire. as. "Be serious," said Enjolras. "I am wild," responded Grantaire.*
I think the most cursed translation would be Feral Actually-
1 note · View note
judasvibe · 1 year
Text
The other day I saw a flatshare fb ad that started with something like ‘minoritized person preferred’ though it didn’t detail exactly how little housework the person was gonna do
0 notes
imaginaryf1shots · 8 days
Text
Neighbour
WC: 2K+
Lando x reader
Summery: (REQUESTED) Your neighbour and you don’t get along, but what happens when your ex turns up to your house.
Warnings: Cursing, cheating, google translated french
A.N: Not my best work but I wanted to get something out
Masterlist
Tumblr media
You've been living in Monaco your whole life, went to school there, went to college elsewhere before coming back to Monaco. It's true that it's a hub for all the richest of people, plus all motorsport athletes and fans. On most days you don't mind any of that, but you're starting to hate your life there. A lot of people move in and out of the city all the time, some rich some not, some nice some not, your new neighbour is anything but nice.
He isn't always there but when he is, he makes sure you know it, and makes your life a living hell.
But he's the last thing on your mind right now, you're going out with your friends and boyfriend to go clubbing. It's the weekend and you're all wanting to let loose, it's been a long weekend and your neighbour is back in town, so that adds to the sleepless nights and headaches.
Lando was dragged out of his apartment to go to a club with Max and Kelly. He just came back to Monaco a few days ago and his friends wanted to have fun. P was having a sleepover at her friend's, so it was perfect.
Lando knows who you are, he definitely does, he's seen your glare and heard your shouting more times than he can count. Always screaming in French and never letting him let a word out before you're marching off. He has no idea if you think he speaks French, or if you’re just cussing him out. That gets on his nerves, who shouts and then leaves without any explanation or waiting for any response. It irked him to no end, did it make him blast his music a tad bit louder? Yes he did, but she started it, she's the one that annoyed him and kept shouting.
Lando is dressed to go clubbing with a chain around his neck, his curls wild and free to do as they want. He met with Max and Kelly there, he chose not to drive, knowing he'd be drunk by the end of the night, and the club wasn't that far from his house anyways. Walking in the club, he felt the vibrations going through him, his blood was pumping, itching to have a drink and hit the dance floor, maybe ask the DJ for a go. The mood was amazing, everyone was having fun as if there's no tomorrow, Lando was dancing with this random girl and Max and Kelly were having a good time. An hour in, Lando made his way to the bathroom at the back of the club, he drank so much and needed to pee to be able to drink some more. It was much quieter at the back of the club, the music was muted, the lights were a bit brighter, and surprisingly there weren't that many people around. Maybe this is why Lando heard it, there was shouting, in thick accented English, different accents, but both speaking English. Maybe he was nosey, or maybe he just wanted to make sure that everyone's okay, but he quietly made his way to the corner at the end of the hallway, leading to the emergency door, he peaked around the corner. Seeing the back of a female in a short dress and hair loose, his eyes running up and down her figure, shouting at a guy much taller and bigger than her, the guy's face was pinched in anger, his hand was moving around.
"I saw you! Why are you still denying it?" The female shouted, her anger and hurt vivid in her voice.
"You saw nothing, because nothing happened!" The guy shouted back and she huffed, Lando could imagine her rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms. "Love, please believe me, nothing happened."
"How can I? When I saw you! I saw you and you have no excuse." She sounded desperate now, Lando debated walking back but he couldn't get himself to just turn and walk away, something made him stay.
"It's dark here, you're mistaken, believe me, please, I only have eyes for you." The guys said and took a step closer, his hands landing on the female's shoulders, Lando could see her tensing. "I love you, you know that right?"
"I know." Lando almost missed her words, he knew she was about to forgive him, and even though he didn't know what happened, he knew the guy was bullshitting his way out of cheating, and she was falling for it.
"Then believe me." The guy leaned in for a kiss, but she turned her head to the side, and Lando saw her face, his eyes went wide and he dipped his head back out of sight. He just saw his annoying neighbour fighting with her boyfriend and he had no idea. He checked her out and even liked what he saw. He wants to bleach his eyes for checking her out. How could he find her attractive? Knowing that her boyfriend won’t hurt her, he went to his original destination. Standing in the urinal he does his business before someone walks in and stands at another urinal one down from him. Lando looks up and sees your boyfriend standing there, looking unbothered. He even got out his phone and dialled a number.
"Hey babe... yeah, I'm going to be late... don't wait up for me.... I know, I miss you too... don't worry, I have tomorrow off and I'm spending it all with you... yeah... whatever you want... I love you... see you tomorrow my love." Lando is standing there in disbelief, that asshole is two timing girls. He may not like you, he despises you even, but that doesn't give that guy rights to cheat on you.
Lando debates telling you, as the alcohol in his system seemed to disappear and he doesn’t drink for the rest of the night, but he did manage to spot you a few times dancing with your boyfriend with a smile on your face, his first time seeing you smiling. Completely unaware, and over the fight you two had.
He decides not to tell you, you'll figure it out.
And you figured it out, one text sent to you by mistake was all it took. Scott kept calling you at all hours of the day and night, you had to block him but he'd get a new number and start calling you again, it left you sleepless and more sensitive. This is why you're standing here in your pyjamas at Lando's door pounding on his door at 8 PM, it isn't that late but you haven't been sleeping well and just wanted to get
to bed, but the music coming from Lando's house just made it impossible to do so. It took Lando a minute before he answered the door. That minute felt like a lifetime to you, you really wanted to strangle him by the time he made it to the door.
"What do you want?" Lando asked, he now knew you spoke English, he was surprised to see you there. You never come to knock on his door, usually your confrontations happen when he's going out at the same time as you or one of you is coming in and another is leaving.
"S'il te plaît, baisse la musique.” (Please turn down the music.) You say in French pinching between your eyebrows in a desperate need to stop the headache.
"Don't speak French, love." You sigh it takes you a moment to register what he’s saying and it seemed for the first time you realise he doesn't, and frown to yourself.
"What?"
"I don't speak French." He repeats amused.
"But-But that means every time-“
"Yes, I understood nothing." You huff and push your hair out your face, your pyjama top rising with your hand movement, giving Lando's eyes free access to your skin, he bites his bottom lip lightly.
"Okay, can you please turn the music down a bit, I can't sleep." You ask him to choose to ignore the fact that he can't speak French.
"It's 8" Lengo frowns and you sigh, he then realises how tired you are. "I'll turn it down."
"Thanks" With that you turn barefoot and walk back to your apartment, closing the door behind you, all while Lango is watching you. He shook his head and went back into his apartment and turned the music off.
You don't interact much but Lendo has seen you in passing during the next week, he caught your phone ringing a few times, it seemed to ring a lot lately and you never seem to answer, always declining the call and then blocking the number, he can only guess that you found out.
Finding out that your boyfriend is cheating on you is never easy, but finding out it’s more than one woman, and more than one time is much harder. How could you be so blind? you don’t get why he’s still calling you. You could only guess that he’s been dumped by all the women he was stringing along. You were going through the breakup, not getting enough sleep, not going out, spending your days on the balcony looking over the city.
You were sitting there with a glass of wine, your head leaning back on the chair as you chilled. Blindly taking a sip of the wine, only to find the glass empty opening your eyes you groan. Begrudgingly getting up to refill your glass when you glance down and have to do a double take, Scott’s car is parked in front of your building, the ugly purple car, eye-catching even in a city like Monte Carlo. “Fuck.”
Your brain came to one conclusion, you have to escape. You run inside, through your apartment and outside to the elevator, only to find it already on its way up. Not a lot of floors in the building, turning and looking frantically, your eyes fell onto your neighbours door, you run there and ring the bell while knocking on the door, repeatedly. Lando opens the door, he doesn’t have time to think before he’s pushed back and his door is slammed, his vision is filled with your hair, you have only managed to push him back a step. you’re looking through the peephole not caring that you just barged into his apartment without any rhyme or reason, offering no explanation.
“What the fuck?” Lando whispered to himself, before he heard it, pounding on your door. Your breathing picks up pace, your eye glued to the peephole.
“Shit, shit, shit.” You mutter over and over again.
“What is happening?” Lando asks and it seemed like you didn't hear him, so he gently moves you to the side and it's then you come out of the trace you're in and blink up at him, he looks through your peephole and sees your ex standing there in front of your door, he's started shouting and calling your name. “What is he doing here?”
“I-uh- I don't know.” You say weakly and look up at Lando, eyes filled with tears, shaking you head you continue voice wavering. “I don't know, he's-he's been calling me and sending me texts and I've blocked him but-but…”
You trail off as Scott starts cussing you out, and throwing threats, your eyes went wider. Lando’s jaw clenched, his hand formed into fists. Lando puts his hands on the door handle and just before he twists it, you place your hand on his to stop him, you're shaking. “Please don't leave me here, don't go out, please.”
“Okay, okay, it's fine, I’ll call security and have him kicked out and he'll be off your visitors’ list.” Lando says and places his hand on your shoulders to calm you down, you nod at his words and Lando just pulls gently to the living room where you collapse on the sofa, your head in your hands. “They’re coming up.” Lando says after his call and sits at the other end of the sofa angled to face you, you look up and Lando takes you in, eyes red, lips raw from you biting at them you're not shaking anymore, but still over all a hot mess. His heart breaks for you, all the past transgressions forgotten.
“Thank you.” You tell Lando honestly, you're grateful he didn't kick you out or tell your ex that you're here.
“No worries, couldn't let you out to that asshole.” Lando clenched his fists just in thought of your ex being outside. “Do you want to drink something, water, tea, coffee?”
“Wine?” You ask and Lando chuckles before he gets a bottle of wine and two glasses. “Thank you.”
Lando pours you a glass, the first one you down in one go. The second one you nurse, by the third you're both talking, fourth your mind is off your ex, and then you're sleeping.
Lando hadn't drank as much as you had, he debated moving you to the guest bedroom, but he's slept on the sofa a few times before and he knows that It's comfortable so he just moves you so you're laying down with a pillow under your head and a light bedsheets over you. Lando finds himself sitting on the coffee table facing you, you look so innocent sleeping, snoring lightly, and once more he just takes you in. “Maybe you're not so bad after all.”
Once he catches himself pulling an Edward Cullen he gets up and goes to his bedroom, leaving you to sleep, but all he could think about is you.
All you could dream about is Lando
Maybe he's not bad after all.
879 notes · View notes
everythingne · 5 months
Text
christmas in monaco - cl16
Tumblr media
You are Charles Leclerc’s best kept secret. Twin of his best friend, a racing prodigy, and his secret girlfriend of two years. The first six months had been secret, just to make sure you’d actually survive a relationship, but then Max said something to Charles that made the idea of ever telling him impossible. So you end up here, half in your brothers apartment half in your soon to be fiancés, trying to celebrate two Christmases in one day.
verstappen!reader x charles leclerc, secret dating/brothers best friend
warnings/notes: cursing, jos is there for a bit in the beginning, poorly translated dutch and french, danny is in red bull bc i said so
next chapter..
-
Warm. That was the best way you could explain the way the bed felt as hot breaths fanned across your chest from the head tucked against your neck. One arm draped across your waist, pulling you closer as you stir and reach up to turn off your phone's alarm. The second arm sleepily comes to wrap around your chest, dragging you back into the warmth of your two year secret.
"No," Charles sighs, eyes still closed as kisses are peppered along your neck and jaw, "Don't go..."
"I have to, Char." You murmur, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you sit up and look at your still very sleepy boyfriend who blinks wearily at you and the sun that halos you, "We don't need Max getting suspicious as to why I'm never home."
"I wish we could tell him." Charles sits up next to you, a hand coming up to fix some loose hairs that were sticking up at odd angles against your head. You didn't answer, just humming. A year and a half ago, during the summer break, you and Charles planned on telling Max. He and Charles got along like a house on fire, there was really no reason you wouldn't have been able to tell your brother about your little blooming relationship.
And then Max had said something to you and Charles, moments before you had planned to tell him, about how you were strictly forbidden from dating any Formula racers. For no specific reason. You had played it off like a joke that night, but once you'd returned to Charles apartment a few nights later you realized just how much your brothers words had affected the both of you.
So, you agreed that night it was (questionably) better to keep it secret.
But Charles and Max knew each other like the backs of their hands. They had been destined from the start to be together, even back in the days of them literally hating each other on the track. You had tagged along with your brother, never driving because of your fathers beliefs, before moving away to live with your mother around the age of fifteen. You and Charles had only reconnected when he debuted in F1, and instantly clicked, even before he and Max did.
Somehow through the busyness of your brothers seasons, he had been distracted long enough for him to not catch on. It was even better when you had moved in with him in Monaco and established a good, core friend group you used as your excuse most times. All of them knew if Max called and asked, to say you guys were together last night since you told them every time you went to go see Charles. It felt foolproof.
“You really have to go?” Charles whines, sitting up finally and stretching his shoulder out, “You can’t stay for breakfast or anything?”
Humming out a maybe as you check the time, you roll to your side and then curse, giving Charles a quick peck on the lips before shoving him off of you and down onto the bed. He crashes amongst the blankets and such tangled together from the way you both toss and turn, nearly whacking his head on the headboard as you scamper to your feet and the cool breeze through the window makes goosebumps run along your skin. Leaning down, you grab your jean shorts off the floor and a hoodie you think is one of Charles' old ones you'd been wearing around.
“Ow?!” his voice echoes behind you and you throw a sorry over your shoulder, scrambling to find your bag and other items in his apartment. Half of your life was here, so you were able to find a spare pair of your socks in his drawer.
Getting to his feet, Charles grabs his shirt from the floor and tugs it over his head as he asks, “What is happening?"
“My dad is visiting today and I forgot I had to leave early!" You curse, jumping to slip on one of your sneakers and bending to fix the parts of the shoe that fold under your heel, "Fuck fuck fuck—!”
"Jos?" He inquires, pausing mid movement to scrunch his face at you. As far as Charles was aware, you and Max had some sort of huge blow up fight with your father and now you both no longer spoke to him.
"No, Charlie, my secret second father." You deadpan, turning around as you toss your bag over one shoulder, "Yes, Jos! Who else?!"
"Sorry!" He apologizes and comes besides you to give you a kiss to your hairline as he wipes a bit of fallen makeup off your cheek, "I thought he wasn't visiting this year?"
You know he means to say, I thought you and Max emancipated from him.
"I thought the same." You huff as you step back from his grasp to find your car keys on the bedside table.
He knows you mean to say, Max can't say no to him. It's a problem.
Charles just hums in response, and when you throw your purse over his shoulder and capture his lips in a quick goodbye kiss before rushing out of his apartment, a small smile peeks across his lips. Soles squeaking in the dew covered grass, you make your way to your parked car. Searching the streets as you walk and dipping between two cars when a guy who slightly looks like he could be Max passes, and then you continue down the road.
Monaco was small. It was a little country, beautiful and bursting at the seams with life, but still so small. So, seeing Max, especially if you were out and about, was likely. Every precaution was taken, and luckily your best friend Jolie lived in the apartment building next to Charles', so you could just park your car there to not raise suspicions.
Getting in your car you slam the door, cursing when you see the missed calls and messages from Max.
And... Daniel?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"I'm back!" You shout, shutting the front door and taking off your shoes and setting them on the shoe rack as you walk in. There's a tense feeling in the apartment and you set your backpack on the ground as Jos smiles.
"Ah, Y/n, how are you?" He says and you cross the room to give your father a quick hug.
"Fine fine, I slept in on accident, otherwise I would've gone with Max to get you at the airport." You sit on the couch next to Max, who's jaw is locked tighter than you've seen it before. The two of you share a look of 'why is this guy here' before your father waves off your words.
"It's fine, how's the degree going?"
"Good good, I'm working on finishing up my degree in Sports Management right now. Charles has been trying to set me up with an internship for Ferrari since Red Bull filled their internships for the season already." You cross one leg over the other and your father nods. Luckily your able to hold civil conversation with him until he takes a rideshare back to the airport. You and Max groan, flopping down on the couches as soon as he's gone and you bury your head in your hands. A typical Verstappen household afternoon.
-
It's fucking hot in Abu Dhabi. Though not as bad as Qatar, you're still sweating through your thin sundress. Wandering into Red Bull's paddock you're greeted by your brother, and then quite literally--and not anyway discreetly, escorted to the drivers room by none other than Daniel Ricciardo who claims he has a sports management question for you.
You know it's not about sports management when he locks the door to the drivers room and turns to you with eyes wide, mouth open in some sort of half grin half shocked expression.
"Charles fucking Leclerc?!" He hisses when you make a vague motion for him to explain and a groan leaves your throat involuntarily. You had been so safe for two years and of course it's Daniel of all people who figures it out. The only other guy who your brother trusts with his life.
"Danny you can't say anything, also why were you even in Monaco?" You snap back, poking Daniel in his throat right above his Red Bull logo on the collar of the fireproofs, your nail digging into the skin there.
"I was stopping by for media stuff," He puts his hands up, stepping back from you, "and how about you answer my question about Charles?"
"I was just--there?" You try and Daniel crosses his arms and looks at you with the most incredulous look in his eyes, head cocked and everything as he laughs.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"Well, I--augh, okay," You groan, sitting on the back of the couch in the drivers room, "this isn't exactly easy to say. I'm kinda not trying to tell my brother about this?"
"Woah woah, Max doesn't know?" If Daniel could look more shocked at this point, he does.
"No and he can't know because he'd kill Charles." Your voice is small, frustratedly bringing heat to your cheeks. Other than your small group of friends from Monaco, and some from back home, you hadn't told anyone about this yet, "Do you promise you won't say anything?"
"I can pretend I saw nothing if that will make you feel better?" Daniel offers and you shake your head curling your hand around the edge of the dress you wear.
"Charles and I..." You huff, crossing your ankles, "have been dating for... two years now? I practically live at his apartment in Monaco when I'm not with Max and Kelly. And Max, apparently, doesn't want me dating any drivers so we... can't exactly... tell Max."
"Two and a half years? You've kept this a secret for two and half years and I'm the one who figured it out?" Daniel scoffs, "Honestly, Y/n, I'm impressed."
"Thanks? But I... I don't know what to do, Danny! We wanna tell Max so bad, but if I do I risk ruining everything!" You bury your head in your hands, groaning, "I can't lose Charles, but I can't lose Max either."
"Do you really think Max was serious about that rule?" Daniel asks, sitting next to you, "Because you're a fully grown adult, so like... how much control does he really have over who you date?"
"Well, I am viewed as an extension of my brother so therefore he gets a bit of a say. And if people find out the baby sister of Max Verstappen is dating Charles Leclerc?"
"Point taken." Daniel hums, "Media nightmare."
"Yep." You stand, pacing the room as you talk with your hands, something you'd picked up from Charles at some point, "there have been a thousand times I've wanted to say something! Thousands! Everytime the two of them are together, I can't ever imagine Max being upset about it. But then I get that little gnawing feeling in my gut. I just... can't do it. Because... if I do, and it ends in disaster, I don't know if I'll be able to handle it."
"And if it doesn't end in disaster?" Daniel inquires after you pause. You turn slowly to face him, watching as he tilts his head to further push his question. You've dreamed of it. Finally being able to tell Max everything about it, Charles had made it clear to you he was itching to tell his practical best friend too, and it would clear the main argument you and Charles had.
You laugh, "I'd be the happiest person alive."
--
y/nverstappen made a new post !
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by maxverstappen, danielricciardo, lewishamilton, and 238k others...
y/nverstappen: mon nounours <3 j'adore les fêtes
maxverstappen: who?????
⤷ maxverstappen: also when the fuck did you learn french?
⤷ y/nverstappen: i have a tutor or two
user1: omg baby verstappen has a boy???
danielricciardo: 'i can't say anything' and yet u CAN post that. ITS NOT EVEN SNEAKY??
⤷ y/nverstappen: a moment of weakness i admit. ALSO YES THE FUCK IT IS DANIEL
⤷ user2: danny tell us what u know
charlesleclerc: babys first rolex?
⤷ y/nverstappen: im too afraid to wear it !! i dont want it to break or get lost or stolen 😵‍💫
lewishamilton: rolex + bracelet combo perfection
user3: i need to know who shes dating.
charlesleclerc made a new post!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by y/nverstappen, arthurleclerc, danielricciardo, and 289k more...
charlesleclerc: deux ans de toi, mon étoile. pour toujours.
maxverstapen: two years?? and I don't know her???
⤷ charlesleclerc: look i can keep a secret, surprisingly.
danielricciardo: good man
user1: CHARLES SOFT LAUNCH???
arthurleclerc: oh so you left out the part where you've been dating her FOR TWO YEARS??? CHARLES???
⤷ charlesleclerc: oops !
user4: 'two years of you, my star. forever' im going to SCREAM
liked by charlesleclerc
carlossainz: am i allowed to say who she is yet?
⤷ charlesleclerc: no and i still owe you for not locking the door
⤷ user2: HELP???
⤷ user3: poor carlos has been scarred for life.
⤷ carlossainz: honestly it was kinda funny
2K notes · View notes
dinogoofymutated · 24 days
Note
You want X-Men requests? Well, I think I've got a few kicking around for our favorite Cajun.
Ok, so this is NSFW but like...imagine overstimulated Gambit to the point where he can only speak garbled French? Idk, I think that's super hot.
Tumblr media
YES OMG YES. I absolutely love this idea I ran with it SO QUICK! I'm Southern, but not necessarily the Cajun flavor of Southern, so I tried to use a translator/dictionary for Cajun-French. There's not really a translator for cajun dialect specifically, so forgive me for some mistakes. I tried my best ;-;
Tw: MDNI. NSFW. Creampie, Overstim, Praise kink (kinda). Reader written while picturing AFAB but no genitals specified. No pronouns specified. Soft dom!reader
Tumblr media
Anyone looking outside-in on Gambit's relationships would think that the man is a player, due to his flirty nature, and he could be to an extent, but you know otherwise.
Remy LeBeau was a lover boy. Sure he showed out a lot by flirting, but at the end of the day it's you he's coming home to. The moment someone tries to make a move on him and flirting goes to touching, you know he's shutting that shit down quick.
He was all talk, and you were happy to find out that extends to the bedroom.
Now having said this, it's not that Remy was a liar. He's incredible at sex, but at the end of the day when he's with someone he truly loves, his walls come down. Loverboy was putty in your hands the moment you decided to grace him with your love and praise.
"Plus, donnez-m'en un de plus, s'il vous plaît." Remy is trembling underneath you, head tossed back into the pillow and twitching inside you still as he cums hard. His hands are clenched around your thighs, grip loose enough for you to grind on him slowly as he comes down from his high.
"Remy, I can't understand you." You say softly, cocking your head at him as you brush some hair out of his face. He leans into your touch, chest still heaving. He mumbles something else you can't quite catch, before repeating "donnez-m'en un de plus, donnez-m'en un de plus." Again and again.
"Reeemmmy~" You smile, rocking back against him just slightly to make him groan and curse, before leaning forward to kiss him on the chin. He tries to catch you in a real kiss, but you don't let him, choosing to hover over his lips teasingly. "English, please, sweetheart."
"Je commence Cher, don't tease." Remy whines, leaning forward again. You let him kiss you this time, unable to stop yourself from giving into Remy's charms. You grind onto him a little more to hear him moan and gasp into the kiss, and his grip on your thighs gets a little tighter. He mumbles again in Cajun, and you shake your head at him. He'd been trying to teach you, but you still weren't quite fluent. You decide you should ask him to teach you bedroom phrases soon. It'd make this a whole lot easier- but you wouldn't lie, you almost enjoy teasing him like this.
"One more, Cher. Please. Please, give me another one." Remy finally grunts. He looks at you with those pretty eyes of his, all blurry with his pupils dilated. You can't help but lean in and kiss him a few more times. You lift your hips, before sinking back down onto his cock with a little more force this time. He gasps out a broken "merci! merci," tears starting to trail down his cheeks as you start to ride him again.
"Oh- Only because you asked... so nicely." You moan. It's a struggle to get the words out, fighting your own oversensitivity, but hearing Remy crumble beneath you is worth how sore you would be in the morning ten times over.
574 notes · View notes
theostrophywife · 5 months
Text
la petite mort.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: regulus black x reader.
song inspiration: greedy by tate mcrae.
author's note: you guys, the wonka press tour is going to be the death of me. timothee looks so hot and therefore it gave me extra inspiration to finish this little piece.
Tumblr media
Regulus Black was first and foremost a gentleman.
Before you started dating, Regulus was adamant about courting you properly. Your boyfriend was a bit old-fashioned that way, but you absolutely adored it. During your first date, Regulus took you out to the fanciest restaurant in town, opened the door for you, pulled out your chair, and didn’t even blink twice before sliding his card down when the check came. 
Ever since then, Regulus spoiled you rotten. Every day, he walked you to class, carried your bag and books, and even left sweet little notes for you to find throughout the day. In the eyes of the public, Regulus Black was the picture of the perfect gentleman, but in private, your boyfriend was anything but.
There was a dark side to Regulus. A side that you took great delight in awakening. Tonight, you were more determined than ever to push your boyfriend to his limits. 
It was a typical Friday night. You and Regulus were at his dorm for your weekly study date. Except you really weren’t in the mood to study. You were laying on your stomach on his bed, absentmindedly flipping through the potions manual in front of you. The assignment was to translate the text from French, but you hardly had more than a few sentences transcribed on your parchment. You were much too distracted at the moment. 
While the manual failed to capture your attention, Regulus did not. Your boyfriend was sitting across the room reading some obscure tome about dark magic. He leaned over the wooden desk, the sleeves of his shirt rolled just past his elbows, which gave you the perfect view of the veins on his forearms. His green and silver tie hung loosely around his neck, exposing the perfectly kissable column of his throat. 
Unaware of your ogling, Regulus twirled his wand between his fingers as his features pinched in concentration. Those angelic curls grazed his impossibly high cheekbones, drawing your attention to the smattering of freckles across his nose. As he read, Regulus mouthed the words silently, his lips curving around the vowels in the most delicious way. His green eyes burned intensely, illuminated by the warm glow of the lantern beside him. 
Abandoning your assignment, you dragged yourself off of the bed and sidled up behind him. Regulus melted into your touch as you massaged his shoulders. He looked up and the light hit his eyes just right, golden spears bursting through the rich green hues like a kaleidoscope. 
Regulus grabbed your chin and dragged your face down to his, planting a sweet kiss against your lips. You hummed against his mouth, eager to deepen the otherwise chaste kiss. You felt him smile at your enthusiasm before he gently tugged at your hair, forcing you to look at him once again. 
“Did you finish your translations, my love?’ 
You shook your head. “No, I think I need a study break.”
Regulus tutted. “Come show me what you’ve done so far and I’ll tell you if you’ve earned one.”
You pouted. It wasn’t very often that Regulus denied your request. Usually, he bent over backwards just to make you happy, so when he didn’t immediately grant you what you wanted, you couldn’t help but act like an absolute brat. Patience had never been your strong suit and Regulus knew that. 
Your boyfriend watched with an amused smirk as you retrieved your manual and parchment with a little frown on your face. You set the studying materials down on his desk and crossed your arms. 
“Where am I supposed to sit?”
Regulus patted his lap. “Right here is fine, darling.”
He almost chuckled at how quickly your mood brightened after that, but he didn’t want to give himself away. Regulus knew exactly what you wanted and he had every intention of making you work for it. You made yourself right at home on his lap, rubbing your arse against his crotch. He would’ve been embarrassed at how hard he already was underneath you, but Regulus had absolutely no shame when it came to his girl. 
“Why don’t you read what you have so far, mon amour?”
You began by reading the ingredients, which listed the main components of the potion. Those were easy enough to translate given that the terms were quite similar in each language. Regulus urged you to continue and you had no choice but to fumble through the instructions, which you had undoubtedly mucked up after getting distracted by him. 
“Faire chauffer à feu doux,” you said reluctantly.
Regulus shook his head. “Faire chauffer à feu fort,” he corrected in perfect French.
It was rather pathetic how hot and bothered you were over boiling instructions, but you couldn’t stop squirming at how attractive it was to hear your boyfriend speak the language of love. Regulus bid you to continue, which you did rather distractedly. 
You struggled through the next few sentences, pressing your thighs together every time Regulus corrected your pronunciation. “You have to roll your tongue, darling. Like this.” 
After Regulus demonstrated by rolling his tongue and sounding out the word flawlessly, your skin felt so hot that you were surprised you hadn’t burst into flames. As you stuttered over the next few sentences, you felt Regulus shuffle underneath you. He slowly unbuckled his belt and slid off his pants. You stopped mid-sentence when he lifted up your skirt. 
Regulus slapped your thigh so hard that the action made you jerk in his lap. “I didn’t say you could stop. Keep reading, love.”
“Trancher de la racine aux pointes—“ you stammered lamely through the words as his hands roamed underneath your skirt. 
You held your breath as he palmed you through the cotton fabric. Regulus smirked when he felt how wet and needy you were for him. He pulled your panties to the side, not bothering to take them off as he caressed your slit. Coating his index and middle fingers with your arousal, Regulus spread your wetness all along your folds. 
A pathetic little whimper escaped your lips. Regulus grabbed your chin and turned you towards him. “I told you to keep reading,” he growled. “Start that section over and don't stop or I’ll make you regret it. Do you understand, princess?”
With a nod, you continued to decipher the next section. Regulus hummed in approval as he lifted your hips. You gripped the parchment as your boyfriend positioned you over his length before thrusting his cock inside of you without warning. 
You bit your lip to keep your moan in. “What are you doing, Reg?” 
Regulus chuckled darkly. “You didn’t think I’d let you get away with acting like a spoiled fucking brat, did you?” You gasped as he sheathed himself in your warmth, filling you to the hilt and nearly making you squirm with pleasure. “You wanted my cock so I’m giving it to you, but I’m not moving until you finish your assignment.” 
The whine that escaped out of you made him smirk. “Now be a good girl so you can get your reward, yeah?” 
Your boyfriend stayed true to his word. Every time you translated a phrase correctly, Regulus rewarded you with a slow thrust. He grunted as he drove deeper into you, whispering praises of encouragement in your ear. 
“My smart girl,” Regulus declared proudly, littering kisses against your neck. “Keep going, baby. You want more, don’t you?” 
The growing need for him distracted you. When you pronounced a word wrong, Regulus pulled all the way out until only his tip teased along your folds. You whimpered at the loss, loathing the hollow and empty feeling it left you with. 
Regulus grabbed you by the throat. “Salé means savory, sucré is sweet. I’m disappointed. I know you know this, darling. Let’s refresh.” He pressed his lips against yours and you ached to kiss him, but you knew that he wouldn’t be pleased if you did so without permission. “Say it with me. Salé.” 
You swallowed thickly as he spoke the words against your mouth. The smooth way that the word rolled off of his tongue made you clench around him. Regulus smirked as you repeated the word, slightly stuttering while you struggled to stay still. 
“Salé.” 
“Does it turn you on when I speak French, mon amour?” You nodded silently, not trusting yourself with words at the moment. “I know it does, gorgeous girl. I can tell by the way your pretty little pussy is clenching around my cock. Poor thing, you must be aching to be fucked, aren’t you?” 
Tears pricked at your eyes. You wanted him so badly that it actually hurt. Regulus wiped the errant tear away with his thumb. “One more, darling. Surely you can manage.” He tilted your chin up and spoke the last word against your lips. “Sucré.”
“Sucré,” you repeated obediently.
“What does it mean?” 
“Sweet.” 
“Just like you, pretty girl.” Regulus kissed your cheek. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now you can have your study break.” 
You sighed in relief when Regulus finally kissed you. The chaste kiss from earlier was gone. Instead, he claimed your mouth with his tongue, leaving open mouthed kisses that had you tugging at his curls for more. He smiled as you grinded into him, making him grunt in pleasure as you lowered onto his length.
“So eager, aren’t we? Where do you want me, mon amour? Here or on the bed?”
“Neither,” you gasped into his mouth before glancing at the desk behind you. 
He chuckled when he realized what you meant. “Is this what you were thinking about, love? Couldn’t focus on your work because you were imagining me bending you over that desk?” 
You nodded. “Yes,” you breathed. “Please, Reg. I need you so bad.” 
“Fuck, you’re so pretty when you beg.” Regulus shifted and patted your thigh. “Come on, darling. Bend over for me. Let me fuck you on this desk until you cry.” 
Regulus watched with lust blown eyes as you bent over the wooden desk. He flipped your skirt up and palmed your ass, the cold bite of his rings sending shivers down your spine. You bit your lip as Regulus loosened his tie. He smirked as he slid it off his neck. 
“Put your arms behind your back, mon cœur.” 
You eagerly obeyed his command. Regulus pinned your wrists together and bound you with his tie. Pressing your cheek against the wood, he stripped you of your shirt and kissed along your spine. Regulus leaned over and slipped a hand underneath your lacy bra, squeezing your tits as he positioned himself behind you. His other hand guided his cock at your entrance. Regulus slipped in slowly, giving you inch after delicious inch. 
“Merde,” Regulus cursed. “You feel so fucking good, princess.” 
Once he started moving, you were reduced to a blubbering mess. Regulus was relentless as he fucked you from behind, his fingers digging into your hips while he drove in and out of you. The parchment and quills that were neatly laid out on his desk clattered to the ground with every slam of his hips. The desk rattled against the wall while he fucked you into oblivion. 
You pressed your cheek against the wood, the sound of your moans bouncing off the walls while you begged for more. “Baise-moi fort, Regulus.” 
Regulus hissed, thrusting into you with force just like you asked. The line between pain and pleasure blurred. Warm tears coated your cheeks as he pushed your body to the limit. Regulus pulled your hair and tugged him towards you for a sloppy kiss. Your legs shook underneath you as he slapped your ass. You could feel the imprint of his rings brand itself into your skin. He timed his thrusts with each smack, making you wetter and wetter by the second. 
He brushed your hair back, kissing your cheek. Regulus placed his hand on your stomach and pressed down just as he rutted into you. “Feel that, princess? This is what I think about all day. Burying myself so deep inside you that you can’t even form words.” You babbled in response, whatever words you were trying to form came out entirely incoherent. “Have I fucked you dumb, darling? You should know better than to ask me to fuck you harder. You know I have no control when it comes to you, Y/N.” 
You cried as he slammed into you. “S’too much, Reggie. I—I can’t take anymore—“
Regulus only laughed. “That’s too fucking bad, princess. You begged like a whore, so you get fucked like one too.” He licked a stripe against your neck before leaving love bites on every surface of your skin. 
There was nothing your boyfriend loved more than claiming your body like this. He smiled as you whimpered, knowing that you’d be marked and bruised for days to come. Though your cheeks were stained with tears, Regulus knew you could take more. Your body told him everything he needed to know. The way you fluttered around him indicated that you were close. He was definitely pushing your limit, but Regulus had a habit of coaxing you out of your comfort zone to provide the most mind-blowing orgasms that you’ve ever experienced. 
“Cum for me, mon amour.” 
White hot heat surged through your veins. You moaned his name while the orgasm crested like a wave, washing over your body like a biblical flood. For a second, it felt like your soul had left your body entirely. The phrase la petite mort flashed in your mind. The little death, the French called it. 
Just when you thought that the high was finally leveling out, Regulus picked you up and placed you on the desk. He untied your wrists before kneeling between your legs. Regulus smirked as he kissed along the inside of your thighs. Those pretty eyes flashed with mischief as he bit into your flesh. 
“Hang on, pretty girl. I’m not done with you yet.” 
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as Regulus lapped up your arousal. He kissed and sucked at your wet cunt like they were hauling him off to Azkaban at any given moment. Your boyfriend grunted when you tugged at his luscious curls, utterly turned on by your roughness. When Regulus looked up at you through thick, dark lashes with his mouth dripping with your cum, you couldn’t help but shiver at the sight. 
You loved seeing Regulus like this. You loved knowing that only you could awaken this dark and dangerous side of him. 
“Oh god, Reg,” you keened, arching against his mouth. “Fuck, I love you.” 
Regulus hummed in approval, spelling out his initials against your folds. The curve of R.A.B. branded itself into your core in the most erotic way possible. The message was clear. You belonged to Regulus and Regulus alone. 
As he worked, Regulus pumped himself between his fingers. You could feel him edging towards release just as a second orgasm washed over you. Regulus looked up when you tugged at his hair. 
“Don’t cum yet, baby,” you said hoarsely. “Not until you’re inside me again.” 
“Mon dieu, you kill me when you say things like that.” Regulus hissed as he wrapped your legs around his waist. The groan that escaped his lips as he slipped inside of you again was downright vulgar. “My filthy fucking girl. I love being inside of you.”
You whimpered in response, bringing him closer as he pounded into you again and again. “I love when you fill me up, Reg. You’re the only one who can make me feel like this. You’re the only one who can fuck me like I need. Gods, you’re perfect.” 
“You feel so fucking good,” Regulus whispered against your lips. “Gods, I’m so close.”
“I know, Reggie. I know.” You kissed him, sighing as you canted your hips to match his rhythm. “I want to feel you cum inside of me, pretty boy.” 
Regulus grunted, his thrusts growing sloppy and desperate. Your words sent him over the edge and he came with a gasp, biting into your shoulder to keep himself from waking up the dungeons. You held him as the orgasm seized his body, whispering sweet nothings into his ear and following the praise with adoring kisses. 
Your heart warmed as he gazed lovingly up at you. He pulled out slowly, peppering kisses all over your face but never taking his eyes off of you. The way Regulus looked at you made you feel like you were the only girl in the world. 
“Reg?” you murmured. 
“Yes, my love?” 
“I think I like studying after all.” Regulus chuckled against your skin, his curls tickling your neck. “You’re excellent at inspiring motivation.” 
“Anything for you, mon amour. I was a goner the second you called me pretty boy.” 
“Is that so?” You teased, kissing the tip of his nose. “Well, you are, you know. You’re my pretty boy.” 
“Don’t say that unless you’re ready for another round.” 
“I’m always ready for you, Reggie. I can’t get enough.”
Regulus picked you up bridal style and carried you to the bed. “Je t'aime de tout mon cœur, my cheeky girl.”
“I love you too, Regulus Arcturus Black.” You smiled and kissed his temple. “With all my heart.”
Tumblr media
953 notes · View notes
ineffable-suffering · 6 months
Text
INEFFABLE META MASTERPOST
Because I'm slowly losing count and need to organize. So, here's all my self-written metas or ones that I reblogged with my own added theories and commentary! In rainbow colours, naturally.
1 – Aziraphale, I love you. But you lied. And here's why. My most lengthy and proudest meta about the Final Fifteen and why I think Aziraphale lied on purpose. (Also: The absolute darling @esthermitchell-author bravely fought their way through it and wrote up some more interesting points and different takes on what I came up with. If you want to go down a S2 rabbit hole with us, go read it here.)
2 – Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator (links below) A three-part meta in which I try to analyse and explain that all of the minisodes in Season 2 are not objective narrations but actually Aziraphale's memories.
Part 1: The Story of Job
Part 2: The Story of wee Morag
Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941
3 – The Jane Austen Ball and why it was never about Nina and Maggie A meta in which I go into unnecessarily great detail about how the Whickber Street Meeting Cotillion Ball was meant to be Aziraphale's confession to Crowley.
4 – Crowley & Aziraphale were never free (reblog) A reblog of @baggvinshield's post in which I explain why miscommunication is the single biggest ineffable enemy in Season 2.
5 – In Defense of Aziraphale (double reblog) A double try at explaining why I think Aziraphale's POV in the Final Fifteen is just as horrible as Crowley's and why I don't think him "choosing" to go back to Heaven was the only point of his character journey.
6 – The Art of Miscommunication: Ineffable Edition A meta in which i once again explain why miscommunication is the single biggest ineffable enemy in Season 2.
7– Season 2 Bookshop Shot Meta A meta where I briefly loose my mind because of a single bookshop frame in Season 2.
8 – What if it wasn't Aziraphale and Crowley who performed the 25 Lazarii miracle? A mini-meta in which I propose the theory that Jimbriel helped with the miracle to hide himself away from Heaven & Hell.
9 – Things in Good Omens Season 2 I still find weird (reblog) A reblog of @ok-sims and many other great OPs' thoughts on the weird loose strings in Season 2 and what unanswered questions I still have myself.
10 – The Deleted Bookshop Scene (reblog) A reblog of @skirtdyke's video and @i-only-ever-asked-questions' smart thoughts on it, with my own overly-excited 'what that could have meant for the "It's too late" line'-theroy.
11 – The Bentley Handle Easter Egg A meta I can proudly say has been liked by none other than Mr. Neil Gaiman himself about Crowley's Bentley handle that might have existed before the Bentley ever did.
12 – The F*cking Eccles Cakes A meta where I briefly loose my mind because of a pastry. (Addendum: People said very smart things in the comments of the post!)
14 – Re: "You go too fast for me, Crowley" A meta in which I make myself sad by connecting that infamous line to Aziraphale assuming Crowley wanted the Holy Water as a suicide pill.
13 – Trauma-Dumping on your plants: The Anthony J. Crowley Chronicles A meta on why Crowley treats his plants the way that he does.
14 – Demonic Mental Health Awareness Post In which I talk about why I want to get Crowley a therapy voucher.
15 – The Curious Incident of The Flaming Sword in Good Omens A meta on why the Flaming Sword has no deeper meaning. Or does it? (Updated: here's a reblog from @queerfables who did a wonderfully exellent job at calmly explaining all the swordy questions I was yelling about! Consider this meta solved.)
16 – Ceci n'est pas une plume A meta in which I'm a bit of a nerd for language and also explain why learning French and magic the human way says so much about Aziraphale as a character.
17 – The meaning of "I forgive you" A meta in which I explain what both "I forgive you"s mean and why Aziraphale will always fight for what is right until he wins. Also, the lovely @sharksbeerr translated it to Chinese on Weibo!
18 – Memory, or the lack thereof, in Season 2 A little reblog on how memory is a big and unresolved, leaky-bucket theme in Season 2.
Addendum:
The one non-spoiler-y ask I could come up with about S2 that was actually answered by Neil, yay!
Also, this wholesome little post I added to that Mr. Gaiman also reblogged. :‘)
*** This is a work in progress and will get updated every time I post a new meta! ***
506 notes · View notes
xxblairexxss · 8 months
Text
Who are you? p.2
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader
Theme : Fluff, I think
Word count : 2.9k
Warning! Poorly translated French
Part 1 Part 3
It was your second time meeting the country’s gem boy but it surely wasn’t a smooth one.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
"I’m gonna put you here. Oh my God! I’m so excited!” You squealed and dipped your hand into the large box of new clothes that had just been delivered. Linda was all ready for your little haul, like she always was while putting her face mask on. "I bought this dress!"
"It’s so cute! Try it on!”
"What? Right now?" You were in jeans and a crop top, waiting for your VIP driver to pick you up as promised or as you were forced to agree two days ago. You didn’t know if he was the right on time person or someone who never bothered to check the time, so you got yourself ready for the day early because you surely couldn’t survive another round of humiliating yourself in front of the country’s precious gem again.
"There’s like 20 minutes left. He’s not going to knock on the door any second. Quick, try it on! I want to see how it is on you!” Linda assured.
"Fine. Give me a second.” You took out the dress from the packaging, stripped yourself until you were left in your underwear, and slipped the dress on.
It was pretty, as you pictured it would be but it was tight. Too tight.
You definitely picked the wrong size that you couldn’t even walk properly in it.
"Damn! You look good!” Your best friend’s eyes widened as you walked into the frame, completely ignoring your suffocating expression. "Why is the upper part a little loose?"
"I picked the wrong size! I can’t even zip up the back.” You whined and tried to reach the zip part. "Oh, I got it.” You pulled it up, roughly three quarters from the full length, and gave up when it put you out of breath. "Nah, it’s too tight."
"It looks so freaking beautiful! You would be getting all eyes if you ever wore that in public!"
"Only after I change it to the right size because now—oh no." You frowned, tugging on the zipper a little harder. It won’t budge.
"What? Y/N, what?"
"It’s stuck!" You cried and tugged on the zipper again. "What am I supposed to do?"
"How can you get stuck in the dress?” Linda, being the most amazing friend you could ever ask for, burst out laughing.
"It’s not funny! I need—" You whirled your head towards the door as the bell rang. "Fuck! He’s here. What should I say?"
"Ask for his help!” Linda suggested as she wiped the tears from her eyes.
"He can’t see me looking like this! Are you kidding me? Talk to you later.” You ended the call before she went into another round of laughter as the bell rang once again.
"Hey?" Charles tilted his head, brows arched as you opened the door with the chain on, which only allowed him to see you from the small gap. "Your appointment is in 5 minutes."
"I’m going with someone else. Sorry for troubling you.” You moved your face away as if the door would hit you when he pushed the door back.
"I thought you had made an agreement with Charles Monaco?”
"I don’t have time for a joke!” You shut him up and groaned. "I can’t go out like this."
"Like what? What is the problem this time?"
"Like this!" You whined.
"In case you didn’t realise, I can only see your head. What do you actually want to show me?” He heard the chain went loose as you closed the door.
"This.."
Charles stepped back when you opened the door all the way, much wider this time, revealing your little dress that grasped every curve of your body. "Dang, you tryna hit the club with that sprained wrist?"
"No, I’m going to punch that pretty face of yours." You stepped aside as he walked in. Just like everyone else’s first time being in a new area, he started looking around, waiting for you to elaborate further on your problems. You, on the other hand, were unable to look at him or bring up the topic, though it felt like you were going to faint anytime soon for the lack of oxygen.
"So? Your problem is?” He took another glimpse of you before checking his watch. "There’s no sense of urgency in that gorgeous body of yours, I see."
You locked your gaze on your feet and mumbled. "I’m stuck.."
"You what?" His brows were drawn closer, frowning at you.
"I’m stuck in this dress!” You squeezed your eyes shut, preparing yourself for the humiliation that was about to come.
"How the heck did you get stuck in the dress?" Charles wanted to laugh, and he knew you knew he was going to make fun of you too, but seeing you in the dress with your wrist secured in a bandage wrap made him feel bad. "Turn around. Let me see."
"Go ahead." You looked up and glared at him.
"Go ahead, what, silly? I’m trying to help you." He stood there like a statue, waiting for you to turn around because there was no way he would move to your back. He was nearly charged with an attempted murder two days ago, and he definitely didn’t want to take another leap in the dark. And he just met you. No woman would be comfortable enough to show the back of her body to a random guy.
"Go ahead and laugh at me."
"I don’t have time for a laugh, Y/N. We are late! They kept spamming my phone with calls. Just turn around.” He sighed.
You pursed your lips, gathering your hair in one hand as you turned your back on him, waiting for him to fix the zipper.
Charles was astounded. His hands went a little clammy as he saw your half-bare back. The way the body line became more obvious as you moved your arms even by a little bit, stunned him.
"Quit staring!"
"Oh, sorry." He muttered and took a step forward. The zipper was indeed stuck at the spot, as he had to tug on it a little hard to move it down. "Is this okay?"
You just wanted to dig a hole to hide yourself. Nothing could mortify you more than this. Not only did you not recognise the country’s athlete, he was here in your house with your exposed back for him to see. You felt his touch on your back as he pulled the zipper down and had to pray that you weren’t sweating from it. "Yeah, that should be fine. Let me just take this.” You turned around and quickly picked up your jeans and top that you had worn before and scurried to your room to change.
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
"We should be able to take your bandage off in two weeks! Until then, please take the medicine if there is any discomfort. If it lasts more than 2 days, give us a call or just come here for a further check-up."
"Oh! Can you.." You took out your phone and went to the notes. "..change the phone number to this one? It’s mine, so it should be easier.” You grinned and handed the phone to the staff.
"No." Charles took the phone away before it reached the staff’s hand.
"What is wrong with you? I’m so sorry. I don’t know this guy and why’s he acting like this.” You sent a glare to the driver and smiled again towards the staff. "Can you just use this phone number, please?” You took the phone back and handed it back, only for it to be in Charles’ hand again.
Your mouths were wide open as he proceeded to speak in French to the staff, completely ignoring you as if this didn’t have anything to do with you at all. The staff nodded and took the phone in his hand as he handed it back to you right away.
"What did you say to her?” You finally asked as you got into the car, after being stopped ten times by his fans for autographs and pictures.
"Oh, I told her she could remove my phone number and proceed with everything in the future with yours.” He arched a brow and smirked, which made you pull your face. "What are you doing?"
"It seems like everyone wants to take a picture with you. I should take my chance too!” You brought up the phone, angled it to where you and Charles were in the frame, and clicked on the snap button. "Gotcha!"
"You need to pay for that.” He turned the engine on and pulled on his seatbelt.
"Yeah, right. Don’t try to scam me. You didn’t ask for money from the fans earlier”. You stared at the picture you just took and cackled at his expression.
"That’s because they asked for my permission. You didn’t. They could sue you."
"Funny!" You pulled the seatbelt as the car started to move and waited for him to pull a face, but he didn't, so your lips went into a straight line. "Wait, are you serious?"
"Yeah. Do I look like I’m playing around?” He turned the blinker on before turning right.
"Do I still get sued if I just keep the pictures on my phone?”
"No, I don’t think so. I can ask my manager about that.” He tilted his head to the right and bit his lips to keep himself from laughing as he saw you gripping your phone with the picture on the screen.
"I’ll just keep it in my photo album. Wait, where are we going? You missed the turn! My apartment is there!”
"Relax! I know!" He kept his gaze forward and proceeded in a straight line.
"Then why aren’t you turning around? I’m calling the police.”
"And tell them what? Charles Monaco is kidnapping you? They won’t do anything.” He turned the blinker again and headed left; your apartment was no longer in sight as he went further away. "You owe me something. Remember when I told you I was in a rush after accidentally hitting you? I had a haircut appointment."
"So we are going to a hair salon? I haven’t been to one since I moved here.” You touched the part of your hair with your free hand while keeping your gaze on the window.
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
Charles pulled the door open, allowing you to walk in first as he followed behind. The place was spacious, neat, and decorous. It reminded you a lot of your local hair salon. There were a few people inside getting their hair done, with a few workers walking by.
"Boujour! Est ce que je peux vous aider?" (Hello! Can I help you?)
"Um.." You turned around, waiting for him to take over.
Charles walked all the way to the hairdresser as she hugged him and kissed him on both cheeks. The middle-aged woman then looked over to you and gave off a smile as she said something, as if asking the guy to take a seat while she walked back to get something.
You quickly made your way to Charles and tiptoed to whisper in his ear. "Is she your fan too?"
He looked at you and chuckled. "No, she’s my mom.”
"Are you being real? Stop joking around!”
He twirled the chair around and shrugged. "I’m being serious! She gave birth to me, Y/N."
"Oh.." You breathed out. The woman came back, and you stepped aside as she started working on the haircut while you took a seat on the couch at the back where you were facing them and still within the radius where you could hear them talk, though you didn’t understand anything except for the constant repetition of this one word.
"Elle pensait que je m'appelleais Charles Monaco." (She thought my name was Charles Monaco)
"Vraiment? D’où vient Charles Monaco?" (Really? Where did Charles Monaco come from?)
"Je ne sais pas, mais c’est mignon." (I don’t know but it’s cute)
For the next 20 minutes, you had been playing a game where you had to match the colours of the items together and hit the goal in order to go up to the next level. It was very distracting that you lost track of time and managed to go up to 50 levels ahead until he called your name.
"Making yourself at home? Should I pick you up tomorrow?” He laughed as you quickly stood up and walked over to him. "I’m just kidding."
"Charles!" His name was called out and you tilted your head,nodding at the older woman as she approached both of you with something in her hand. "Ceci est pour vous." (This is for you)
She handed you a small bag full of cute hair clips and kept on patting your arm as she said something to her son. "Ramenez-la à la maison en toute sécurité." (Bring her home safely)
"Thank you so much for these!”You grinned and turned to see that he was looking at you with a smile plastered on his face.
"Take care! Come if you need any haircuts, love!” She hugged you before making her way to treat her other customers as you left the store and headed back to the car with him.
"Oh my God, it’s so cute!" The soft pink hair claw caught your attention the most, so you picked it out and wrapped your hair around it, making your hair into a bun while looking at yourself through the sun visor. "It’s so cute, isn’t it?"
"You look cute with your hair up. Anyway, sorry for dragging you all the way here." He muttered.
"Give me a second. Where is it?" You frowned and dug your fingers inside the bag to find the matching pairs for the strawberry hair clips. "Oh, it’s okay! I got cute hair clips.” You shrugged it off and pin the matching clips to your face framing bang.
"I’m sending you off after this because I have a plan with my friends for dinner. Is it okay for you?” Charles found himself beaming at the sight of you trying every clip on, despite having your hand wrapped up in a bandage.
"What do you mean, is it okay for me? You are supposed to drop me off after your haircut.” The hair clips on your hair were taken off as you dropped them into the bag and left with just the hair claws to keep your hair up.
"Do you not have any plans with your friends?" He asked, picking a random topic to carry a conversation.
"Oh, I don’t have any friends in here.” You replied and played it off with a chuckle. Moving to a new country all on your own was such a new adventure for you that you barely had any time to find some new friends. Your mom kept on saying you weren’t able to find one because you kept on living in your own bubble, but how exactly did you start a friendship with someone who was never in the same school, class, or even neighbourhood with you? D9 you just go to their table and introduce yourself because surely no one would just barge their way into your life just to be friends? "You can just drop me there. I can walk my way up on my own because my hand is the one fully wrapped like a mummy. My legs are all safe and working very well." 
He chuckled as you gave a thumbs up before gathering your stuff in one hand and opening the door as he stopped by the side of the road.
"Are you sure you don’t need my help?"
"Yeup! All good. I don’t want to trouble you anymore.” You pushed the door closed and turned back to head to your apartment.
"Hey, Y/N?"
"Yeah?" Turning around, you bent down a little just to catch his gaze from inside the car.
"We are friends, right? I can be your first friend here in Monaco." 
"I’m not sure if you want to be friends with me. I’m not an athlete. I can’t even run 100 metres without dying.” You cracked a joke, but he wasn’t laughing along with you.
"I’m not just friends with athletes, silly. No one’s trying to challenge you to a 100-metre race."
"I’m not rich too.." You mumbled.
"Okay, I really want to know how your brain works because there is not a single hint of logic in everything you are saying right now. Do people in your country print out their bank statements first before accepting a friendship? No one’s flashing their wealth in here!"
You laughed at how frustrated he was. "Okay, sure! We are friends!"
"Which means I can text you, right?”
"Good luck in finding my phone number, Charles Monaco! Bye!" You waved and made your way back without looking back, thinking that would be the last time you would hang out with him again.
Without knowing he had your phone number saved on his phone with the help of the hospital’s staff earlier.
✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl @boiohboii @formula1mount @judespoision @alwaysclassyeagle @scenesofobx @mrsmaybank13 @vildetry06 @harriesgolden
✧.* tag list for p.2 @styles-sunflower @needtokeepfeelingsincheck @lexiecamposv
If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!
947 notes · View notes
cumulo-stratus · 8 months
Text
Communication Issues
Tumblr media
(GIF NOT MINE)
Plantonic!BAU team x french!reader
Description: reader is from France and lived there until he was 11/12 and then moved to america and his first language is french. He also has a little bit of an accent. Basically reader is new to the team and it is their first late night back home on the jet with him. And basically they learn that when hes tired he reverts back to his mother tongue.
CW: possible swearing, I can't think of anything else
A/N: I'm thinking of making a series about this, like just funny scenarios related to the reader being French, if y'all have any ideas let me know! Also reader is gonna be loosely based off me when im rly tired cus i get kinda giggly/floppy/goofy. ( also sry it's short)
French, translation
3rd person POV:
after a hard, and long case the team was very ready to go home. They had found a 9 yr old girl and rescued her from a man holding her in his basement to torture her. And even though it took the profilers almost 3 full days with almost no sleep to find her. To say they were tired was understatement. It was almost 2 am when they trudged onto the plane, all tired physically and emotionally. Y/N was the last on the plane and decided to take the couch to get some sleep. Just as he was sitting down Reid plopped down next to him. (Y/N and Reid liked to sit next to each other so they could read together)
“Désolé reid, je veux lire avec toi, mais je suis trop fatigué pour ça” (sorry reid, i wanna read with you but im too tired for that) you said to him, slightly slurring your words. “Huh?” Spencer looked up at you with a small crease between his eyebrows. The switch in language caught the rest the rest of the team off guard as well (evidently by the looks on their faces) you peered at them just as perplexed and asked “Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?” (Whats wrong?).
“Dont worry guys I’ll talk to him” said spencer with a little giggle at his new friends antics. Morgan gave spencer a little knowing look and eyebrow wiggle at his conversation with Y/N, despite having no idea what they were saying. “Mon biche, tu parle français maintenant, pas anglais.” (Darling, you’re speaking french right now, not english) says spencers with a small smile. a look of understanding dawned your features and you said “je suis?! Oh c'est pas grave, Oh, tu n'as besoin que de me comprendre de toute façon.” (I am?! Thats okay, you’re the only one who needs to understand me anyways) you say with a wink ad a giggle. Spencers cheeks went red and emily gave him a questioning look. “Y/N, tu fais quoi?” (y/n, what are you doing?). you just gave him a mischievous look before putting your head on his shoulder and snuggling into him to fall asleep. The rest of the team got bored of making fun of the pair and began their own conversations or trying to sleep. But after a minute or two the team heard and hushed but strict “shhhhh!” coming from their resident genius. “You guys are so loud! hes asleep!” said spencer’s while he gestured vicariously to the sleeping figure drooped over his left side. “hush up pretty boy, your little boyfriend over theres out cold dont worry about it.” said derek with a teasing smile. spencers cheeks turned even more red than before if hat was even possible and started stuttering about the sleep man not being his boyfriend. “okay, okay, hes not your boyfriend,” said derek with his hands up in surrender after spencer kept spluttering on about y/n not being his boyfriend.
(small time skip)
As the plane landed people began packing up their things and getting ready to get off the plane. But y/n and Spencer had moved and when the team looked over they found the two agents passed out on top of each other and snoring lightly.
THE END
470 notes · View notes
slut4navia · 3 months
Text
ma chérie part 1/2
with your free hand you grabbed her chin to tilt her head down. “do you remember our safe word? or are you so fucked out from my thigh that you cant remember what it is?”
“you wanted this ma cherie, now take it.”
content: dom!reader x sub!navia, thigh humping, choking, degradation and praise kink , pw very loose plot, the french (french is my third language let me know if any translations are incorrect !), the implementation of teapot mailboxes solely for plot reasons, a quick silly moment cuz i think sex is a bit silly
word count : 1242
⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑
the drag of her clit felt heavenly against the rough fabric of your jeans. it had been months since you two were last in the same city and as her letters to you got increasingly desperate, your focus had shifted from saving natlan to fucking the headlights out of your girlfriend. you had told her to come along with you on your travels but you both knew she couldn’t—the spina di rosula needed her more than you did and you both knew it… but in this very moment, nothing else had mattered to you two as you replaced your lips with your hands and squeezed down on the marks you had left on her neck.
“plea- ah fuck- pleaseee pleaseplease let me cum (y/n) wan’ it so bad i-i can’t,” she moaned out as she threw her head further back, her whole body shivering. “i cant take it anymore!” despite her cries, her hips never stopped rocking back and forth, making even more of a mess to your clothed right thigh.
what started as a steamy makeout session had soon turned into her grinding down on your jeans, and much to your surprise, you had found out she wasn’t wearing underwear under her skirt. you both knew that the second you two would be back into each others arms that this would happen, but she had not expected her punishment for her behaviour to take this long. she had assumed you would crack, or better yet, forget about the punishment you had wrote about in your last letter.
but unfortunately (or very fortunately) for her, it had been an hour since she was first in your arms, and every time she had tried to escalate the situation, you would whisper in her ear the filthiest shit she had ever heard to send her mind reeling—and god was it ruling her up further. the formerly small patch of desire from her pussy had quickly doubled, your thigh now sticky with her fluids and your shirt permanently wrinkled from the sweat of her hands. whenever she would slow down, you would grab her ass and move her yourself as if she was just a doll. she wasn’t allowed to cum either, you told her if she did you would get up and leave on the spot. you both knew you wouldn’t, but it was more fun this way if those were the conditions.
with your free hand you grabbed her chin to tilt her head down. “do you remember our safe word? or are you so fucked out from my thigh that you cant remember what it is?”
if you didn’t know her better you would be concerned. if you didn’t know her better you would lift her hips off your jeans and shower her in hugs and kisses and cuddles, but you know navia, and you know this is exactly what she wants.
“you wanted this ma cherie, now take it.”
tilting her head back to face you, you get a better look of her tear stained face and her bruised lips. fuck she looks good.
“je veux te-hah-laissez m-moi jouir s’il vous plaît s’ilvousplait (i want you, let me cum please) please baby plea-fuck!” she moans out as her hips once again falter their rhythm. she’s close again and you both know it; you can always tell when her grip on you strengthens and her melodic moans hit new highs. getting a better look at her face reveals just how desperate she is.
you can’t decide whether to focus on her watery eyes… or maybe her shaky, bruised lips and messy hair… of course there are the marks littered across her neck like a choker. you could get lost in her infinite beauty. to you, this is when she looks her best- when she wears her heart on her sleeve, her slick on your leg, and her body is gliding against yours.
“you’re going to have to do a better job at convincing me after that shit you pulled my love” you say with a stern look on your face.
“please,” she whispers, her face mere inches away from your face, lips just centimetres from each other. you flick your eyes back to hers.
“are you going to behave?” you breathe out, volume so low that if she wasn’t listening so attentively she could’ve missed it. as soon as you slide your hand from her chin to brush down her breasts does navia begin grinding on your leg again- all before your hands find space on her hips, pushing her along.
“yesyes oui god yes i would do anything for you right mon amour. n’importe q-quoi!!!” she cries out like you were a genie that had just granted all three of her wishes.
“no matter what? be careful what you wish for love,” you say with a predatory smile as you boop her noise. you place that hand on the swell of her back and push her towards you to both re-angle her hips (and clit) and put your lips beside her ear. she responds with a loud moan and you swear you can feel her heartbeat through her dripping heat.
“i’ll be the best-nghh-i’ll-i’ll be your best g-girl,” she mumbles, relaxing into your shoulder. you bite back a moan as she leisurely drags her nails against your thighs.
“i think it may be time for your reward, pretty girl. but do not ever mail your undergarments to my teapot mailbox ever again. i can’t believe,” you paused to let out a breather chuckle, the only thing that could hide the small moan of your own, “i can’t believe tubby had to get in the middle of that.” as if a flip had been switched, both you and navia slip out of the scene you had been in as she stills her hips and smiles up at you.
“tubby shouldn’t be allowed to go through your mail sweetie. did you know that’s actually illegal and could get you char-“ navia starts before you interrupt her.
“do you want to cum or not before we both get distracted,” you giggle and a chuckle escapes the blonde before her hips start moving with a new found vigor.
“yes (y/n) i’ll never do it again… now can i please cum,” navia whines, you can feel her full body shaking with anticipation and need—maybe now she deserves it.
“yes ma chérie you’ve been so so good to me tonight,” you whisper in her ear while grabbing her ass with both hands to help her get there.
“thank you g-god thankyou fuck thank you so much baby thank youthankyou,” she babbles as the movement of her hips begins to waver. “thank you… thank-ah- tahnk youthank-”
the palm of your hand makes contact with her ass cheeks and you can feel her body tense. “there you go, let yourself go you deserve it. that’s it that’s it.”
you’re favourite view is looking up at her while she cums. her messy honey coloured hair glitters from the sunset outside and her eyes are the most perfect shade of blue you’ve ever seen. so watery and desperate while also relaxed and happy- navia in all her divine glory. her soft pale skin contrasts so beautifully against the purple hickies and finger prints you have littered all across her body. you could stare at her like this all day.
fortunately for the two of you, your night together has only started.
⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑
(part two coming eventually i’m back at university and busy as fuck with work but i’ll try to finish something soon! - bear)
262 notes · View notes
Text
a big german newspaper (die zeit) recently published a more critical article on the so called „verrichtungsboxen“ (literally: boxes of execution; boxes on the street where prostituted women and sex buyers can go to consummate the sexual acts; anyone who knows german will know this is a gross terminology, fitting for a gross concept).
while the fact these boxes exist is in itself a tragedy, the letters to the editor are giving me hope that there are sane people left in this country - even though from their names and writing style i would guess they are of the older generation, pension age.
heinz wohner: „if you dont get a visceral reaction of disgust and shame looking at these obfuscating boxes called ‚eco toilets‘ and the image of what is going on in them, you have to be extremely cold. calling what is being done to these women for little money ‚work like any other‘ is sugarcoating the issue.“
wolfgang wendling: „maybe there are women who voluntarily prostitute themselves, but the majority is doing it out of necessity and under pressure. calling the oldest trade in history a profession like any other is pure mockery. its not an honor to call our country europe‘s biggest brothel. but it‘s true. we should be ashamed that women are being exploited, humiliated and abused before our eyes. the more severe the poverty is in the country of origin, the cheaper you can have them. we should finally stop this, which is the only appropriate action for a civilised country.“
brigitte kosfeld: „the photo of these boxes alone speaks volumes on the inhumane practices hidden behind the liberalisation of prostitution. when the law was introduced, there were convinced social democratic women who were holding speeches on ‚prostitution as a profession‘. the intentions behind the law might have been honorable, but the reality has always been deeply anti-woman.“
professor claudia reuter, phd: „the liberalisation of prostitution in germany has failed in all regards. according to a french study, the average life expectancy of a prostitute is 33 years. babbling about self-determination in this case is inhumane. the state is not supporting prostitutes’ workers rights and their health, but their economic and sexual exploitation. its about time for the swedish model: protection for women and consistent punishment for sex buyers and pimps.“
joachim kasten: „social democrat august bebel already wrote in 1879 (…) that ‚honorable family men‘ were contributing to uphold the system prostitution with their money. according to him, they were generously let off their responsibility to disappear in anonymity. apparently today we are still where we were at the end of the 19th century.“
sabine moehler: „the description [in the article] of typical injuries prostitutes have reminded me very much of those women in physically abusive relationships show as well. a man who abuses, humiliates and demeans a prostitute in any way will do the same to his partner, wife or lover as soon as he doesnt like her behavior. (…) even reading about this is upsetting me a lot.“
and of course the one sex buyer who just had to write to the editors, peter müller: „its one sided to use the misery in berlin street prostitution with sex on public toilets as a reason to debate the liberalisation of prostitution. there are many brothels were the ladies are treated with respect. of course working as a prostitute harbors certain risks - but there are women who freely choose this job, and in my experience, some of them are doing it with passion and love. the regular prices are not the dumping prices you mentioned (5-10 euros) [note: which is indeed normal in street prostitution] but actually 80-100 euros for half an hour - not to mention those dont include extras and humiliating sex practices. i met women who earn better in prostitution than some employees in germany.“
loose translation and highlights by me.
264 notes · View notes
leclercsloveletter · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
CL16 | friends or not (pt 2)
Tumblr media
Summary: You love Charles, but he keeps you treading on the line between friends and strangers. The humiliation and frustration finally got to you.
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem reader
Words count: 2060
Warning: Google translated French
Author's note: Thank you for your support on my first ever fic here! I’m so shock everyone wanted a part 2 so I stayed up til 4AM for this🫶
Tumblr media
Life without Charles is just normal life 90% of the time, other than the fact that you allow yourself to see other people. You wish it was easy to indulge in others after him.
Charles lingers as the silent architect of your thoughts, he made a home in your gut and sucked you dry of the ability to spare anyone else half the intimacy you gave him. The touch of others only serves as a poignant reminder of the electrifying chemistry your body once had with him. So when Lando's rough hand rests on your waist, it weighs like an anvil, sinking you onto the floor of the FIA's gala.
Going out with your somewhat ex's coworker isn't the brightest idea, but Monaco is a small place. Once you get roped up into the circle of drivers and their little games, it's hard to get out with your dignity intact. Besides, Lando was one that you can confidently rely on. He was there and he was listening when Charles decided you weren't worthy of his time. Maybe he was waiting for you to break so he could come in, and snatch you up like a vulture for himself, it doesn't matter anymore.
"Darling, are you alright?"
"Yea I'm good Lando, I'm just dreading a bit"
You appreciate Lando breaking the flow of conversation just to check up on you. He let out a sigh before holding you closer
"Y/n, it's okay. I asked so he would be seated at the other end of the table. I know we aren't a committed item yet and it's not in my position to say this but, be mine for tonight, please?"
He held one of your hands in his, giving it a small kiss. He was so kind, so charming, so convincing that you smile back and nod. Lando leans in for a quick kiss that you reciprocate, ignoring every fibre in your body that's screaming from someone's gaze at the other end of the room.
Charles's and your body are in tune in a mysterious way, so when he walks into the gala with his new girl, the air in your lungs thickens into syrup. With his crisp suit, new haircut, and a girl he seems to care more about, Charles looks like a vessel of the Charlie that once had you. Except for the cufflinks you gave him when he won in F2, you wonder if his girl knew. But you already promised Lando that you would be his for tonight, to give him the undivided attention that anyone deserves from their partner. So you lean in closer to him and let his words flow through your head.
Time passes, the alcohol kicks into your system has dulled out and now waiting to be excreted. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom, someone was in there too.
"Oh hey, you're Lando's girlfriend?"
She was beautiful, elegant, and kind. In a red dress that hugged her body exactly where she wanted it to be, her posture so proper it put ballerinas to shame. A girl worthy of Charles's time.
"That's me, I'm Y/n L/n. I see you with Leclerc?"
"Yeah, I'm Charlotte, nice to meet you."
You shake hands, and although you both look well groomed, nails and hair freshly done, you can't help but feel humiliated by her. You both exchange some words and follow each other on Instagram before she returns to her table and you find a stall to sit in silence. Jealousy is a fitting word, humbled is one too, there were so many noises buzzing through your head at once. You need a smoke before going back into that room.
Paris is cold at night, the jacket hung loosely on your shoulders was supposed to be nothing more than a decoration so you shivered when pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up. You shoot Lando a text so he knows you're fine and just need a break from the event, he replies with "Gotcha darling, stay warm" and a cutesy emoji, you feel bad for him.
"Still haven't quit smoking Y/n?"
Oh that voice, the voice that makes you want to drop everything to punch him in the face and then kiss him through the blood.
"I think I'll be committed to it until it takes me out, Charles."
"So, how's life?"
The 3 words take you right back to that night in Monte Carlo, it wasn't that long ago, but in your misery, it felt like the previous life.
"Doin' pretty well, got me a cute boy. Doing my master's degree right now, new job, new car, what a life."
"You miss me so much you swoop down to date my friend Y/n?"
"Bold of you to assume everything is about you."
You replied sharply, the embers of the cigarette gazing at your fingertips before you threw it over the balcony you were standing on. The audacity he has is astonishing sometimes, you turn to him
"My life before was all about you, everything I did was for you. Now? I want nothing to do with you Leclerc, I'm sorry that your coworker likes me and he actually cares for me when you weren't around."
Charles was frozen to the ground, he didn't expect such an outburst, not that he would ever. You look at him for a moment, stunned that after everything, all the changes and pain you went through, he made no progress. You walk past him to go back inside, not without putting a hand on his shoulder with a sigh
"Charlotte seems nice, treat her well."
-
Lando was shocked when you told him you're moving to Milan to finish up your last year of master's. He was borderline begging for you to stay despite the whole non-committed thing you guys have. It's funny how you ran away from a situationship to have a new one that lasted more than a year, at least this one was healthier.
"Lando hun, I'm sorry. But I can't stay in Monaco for now, I need something else just for a moment. I'll keep in contact yeah? I'll update you on Pierre and Yuki too."
You hold him tight, there are no tears but only a shared understanding that you both won't work out and mostly, he knew you need to get away from Charles. Neither you nor Lando can live under that shadow, it's merciful that you let each other be. Even when you have to deny the attraction you held for the driver. Packing was easy enough, with boxes of stuff already being shipped to Italy and pictures of Pierre unpacking and messing with your decors in the new flat have been sent.
Your phone buzzes menacingly
"I heard you're moving to Milan, safe trip."
"Thank you, Charles, will tell Pierre you said hi."
Even in moments like this, he taunted you. He's everywhere in your apartment, at the same time, left nothing behind but you. You know when the plane lands in Milan, it will be a true new life. Maybe fate will let you live there, somewhere in Sicily or Naples sipping on limoncello and wearing a wide-brimmed hat.
"Motherfucker, Pierre you didn't tell me Milan was going to be hot as hell?!"
"I thought you checked the weather?! Don't blame me?!"
Banter with Pierre flows smoothly, if there is someone who complimented your insanity, it's Pierre. It's scary how he also possessed the ability to read you like a book, Frenchmen have superpowers you guessed. What you didn't expect however was sitting on the balcony of your new apartment over a glass of wine while he questioned your motive for moving to Milan.
"I know you won't just move here if you still can tolerate his existence Y/n. What was the final straw?"
"There was none, Pierre, it's just nothing was working out and I need a change-"
"Ferme ta gueule Y/n, I knew you both too well for you to think I would believe that"
You pull your legs up to your chest, getting cozy on the beanbag before chugging the whole glass of wine. Pierre has been out of the loop so you told him everything, the catch-up dinner when you broke it off with him, the gala where you both brought someone new and that balcony conversation. Even the little ones like him acting so nonchalantly and saying hi to you on the street or the "safe trip" text. Pierre listens without judgement, although if you add your own hesitancy in there, you would deserve every colourful insult he could think of.
"And do you wanna know the funniest thing is? He never realised where he went wrong, he never truly understood why or how. I'm the villain in his story because I broke his heart. Meanwhile, he shattered my fucking entire existence."
"Do you still love him then?"
"I do Pierre, with every breathing moment."
-
You have to go see Monza, Pierre and Yuki basically dragged you there despite your objection of "I will support you at home on TV". So now you're walking around in the hospitality area, munching on some rather good croissants. Pierre shot you a text to come down to the paddock which you reluctantly agree to.
"Come down with us!! @ AlphaTauri paddock right now."
The AlphaTauri paddock is a bit of a walk away, so naturally, you passed by the Ferrari's. Seeing his face plastered on the paddock wasn't a fun experience but it's fine you said. Until the actual model of those pictures caught you off guard.
"Hey"
Every cell on your body screams the fire you thought you diminished lit up like the Olympic torch. You turn around to see Charles in his race suit, painfully beautiful and surprisingly alone.
"Hi Charles, I'm on my way to Yuki and Pierre. Good luck for today."
Before you can leave, he grabs your arm and you let him pull you back. For the first time, he actually tried to hang on to you.
"Uh, I'm free tonight, I want to talk but over dinner of course. Will you?"
Saying no to Charles Leclerc is like forcing you to shoot an elderly lady in the head. It's impossible and unnatural for you to even consider denying him of anything. And it didn't help when he added
"S'il vous plaît?"
Charles was never one to ask you for something with "please". Your body was always given in a heated clash of tongue and teeth, your soul is even worse. But something shook in you, Charles saying "please" like he's begging for you to spare him your time. The time that you deserved.
"Alright, usual time?"
"Usual time"
He won in Monza that day.
-
"So, how's life?"
Same question, every time, like clockwork. But this time you're in Monza, next to some random canal reflecting the city on its ever-moving water.
"I'm sorry"
"You what?"
Charles' words stunned you. You don't know how to feel, isn't this what you were waiting for? Him to be sorry so you can run back into his arms and love him once more?
"I'm sorry for being hot and cold, I'm sorry for leading you on Y/n. I'm sorry for not seeing your side and wasting your youth. I always wanted us but I was stupid to fuck it up. So please-"
"Stop right there."
Charles looks up in shock, his eyes are almost brimming with tears. You release a breath you didn't know you were holding.
"Thank you for apologising, I don't forgive you, Charlie. I don't think I can. So if you're asking me to leave it all behind and act like you didn't throw me down the trenches then don't. However..."
Your heart beats so loudly, that you can feel the blood rushing and the fire coursing through your veins.
"I believe in redemption. So hi, my name is Y/n L/n"
You give out a hand for him to shake, vision starting to blur from tears. Charles stares at your outreaching hand for a moment before grabbing it with speed and strength, as if you would regret it any moment.
"Hi, I'm Charles, Charles Leclerc."
"Like the F1 driver? I think we will be great friends then"
Monza never shines brighter, maybe even more than Monte Carlo.
"I hope so too"
Tumblr media
Tag list for this fic: @janeholt3
184 notes · View notes
certainlynotasimp · 10 months
Note
HIIIII! Okay so this idea has been living rent free in my head. But what if Miguel was away on a mission, and Sunny saw it as an opportunity to go ahead and jam out with headphones/earbuds/AirPods. Sunny’s a pretty good singer she just.. doesn’t like bringing it to people’s attention much. And I recommend listening to Can’t Tame Her by Zara Larsson. Sunny’s having the time of her life singing and dancing. Miguel gets back, and Sunny’s still jamming out until she eventually turns around and practically screams seeing him just standing there and all embarrassed 😂 what happens after that is completely up to you.
Dance With Me
Tumblr media
(Miguel O'Hara x Female Reader)
A/N: I'm BACK!! lol. I'm so sorry for the long wait on your request and I absolutely love this song!! Such a bop. I honestly changed some details of your request and I added some details that my lovely Latinx spiderlings mentioned.
A/N: If you guys wanna read some more of my stuff, check out my master list. I have closed the tag list, but if you guys want live updates, a meeting place for simps, and maybe get your ideas added to fics, then come join the discord!
WARNINGS: Grumpy x Sunshine, Female Reader/ Female Pronouns, Pregnancy, Fluff, Embarrassing situation, and Deepl Translated Spanish ((Y'all let me know if the translations are better with this new site some of y'all recommended.))
~~~~~~~~~
“¿Segura que vas a estar bien sola, mami?” Are you sure you're going to be alright on your own, mami? Miguel mumbles as he looks at his love standing by the oven. His eyes cautiously watch her hips sway softly as she hums softly to herself and makes her French toast. Her swollen stomach makes her movements seem more imbalanced.
“I’m sure, Miggy.” The heavily pregnant woman reassures her love. The woman turned back to her worried lover as he stood by the door in his blue spider suit.
Hitting the third trimester of pregnancy has led to Miguel becoming more of a protective force than he was before. He already had to fight his stubborn little sunshine to be benched during the first two months of her pregnancy, which resulted in the compromise of her moving into this apartment to appease both of them. Now in the sixth month of bringing this new little life into the world, the man had to basically be pried away from his apartment in order for him to go on missions outside of his dimension.
For example, if there wasn’t another Spot on the loose again, Miguel would be content with staying home with his girls and gorging on the trashy romantic comedies that she kept playing on repeat. Of course, he would never voice his disdain for the films. Not when he gets to see her eyes light up in delight as her voice floods the apartment in laughter.
“You really don’t need to worry about us, mi amor.” She calmly assures him as she wraps her arms around him. Her bump made it difficult for her to embrace him, but the little flutter of feet against his abdomen made up for it. “We always know that Papi will always keep us safe.” She mutters as her bright smile cuts through Miguel’s heart.
Cupping her face, Miguel whispers softly, “¿Qué hice para merecerte?” What did I do to deserve you? He presses gently kisses on her forehead, cheeks, and lips as she giggles at the feathery light affection. Miguel knees down and pressed a firm kiss on her bump while whispering, “Pórtate bien, Estrellita. No quiero que le causes muchos problemas a tu mami mientras no estoy.” Be good, little star. I don't want you to cause your mommy too much trouble while I'm gone.
A strong kick meets Miguel’s lips unexpectedly as he chuckles at Maria’s attempt to tell her father to get on the road. 
Standing up, He gives his love another kiss before heading out. As he swings away, the pregnant woman looks down at her bump and mumbles.
“Now that Papa is gone, we can have some fun.” 
~~~~~~~~~~
“Lyla, si vuelves a mandarme a algún sitio así, te pondré en el monitor de bebés de Mayday.” Lyla, if you ever send me anywhere like that again, I will put you into Mayday's baby monitor. Miguel seethes as he limps out of the portal with the rest of the team.
The mission was a lot more difficult than the team was briefed on. They knew that The Spot was involved, but Lyla didn’t mention Doctor Octavious and a Prowler would be there as well. Miguel had handled the two while the others worked to capture The Spot, but the task wasn’t easy as the large claw marks along his sides and heavy bruising proved. Luckily, they managed to capture the enemies, but everyone receive a significant amount of damage. 
Lyla laughs as she plays with some weird virtual version of a toy Gwen had yesterday. The annoying popping of the rubber bubbles causes Miguel’s already sour mood to worsen as she muses, “ No need to fuss, Miggy. You guys are still alive and ready to kick ass tomorrow.”
“I don’t think being alive is a good thing right now…” Pavitr groans as he plops onto the floor as Hobie grumbles beside him about his destroyed guitar.
Jess rolls her eyes as she plops herself in Miguel’s normal spot by the monitor and throws Miguel a knowing glance.
“Why don’t you head on home, Migue?’ Jess offers which causes him to look at her a little surprised. “You need to be home with Sunny. Believe me, I understand how uncomfortable she is right now.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.” Miguel argues, “What about your-”
“My husband can handle Little Bit while I finish this report.” Jessica shuts him down as she shoots him a familiar glare he recognizes from his own mother. God, he hopes his sweet sunny doesn’t develop a glare like that. She would have him running for his money.
Miguel silently thanks his friend as he leaves, opting to swing home instead of the portal. Deciding to pick up some takeout from her favorite restaurant on the way.
~~~~~~~~
As Miguel approaches the door to their apartment, the soft buzz of pop music filters through the thick walls of the building. His eyebrow quirks up as he softly opens the door. The young black and white mass of fur greets with silent chirps as Miguel shushes him. He closes the door quietly as he kneels down and scratches behind the cat’s ears. 
“¿Qué hacían nuestras chicas mientras yo no estaba, Moony?” What were our girls doing while I was gone, Moony? He coos as he stands up and places the bags of food on the counter.
Moony runs off as the soft voice he loves fills the apartment. 
“Don't need no one, she can dance on her own
Club is closin', but she ain't goin' home
Night is still young, where the hell will she go?
Nobody knows nobody knows”
The hyper-pop music boomed from the sound system as Miguel rounds the corner and his face splits into a bright grin. His red eyes soften as he watches his pregnant love freely dancing around the living room with a pint of ice cream in her hand. His worn sweater consumes her frame as she twirls and blurts out lyrics.
“Can't tame her magic energy
She's so magnetic, pulls you in every time (every time)
Every time (every time)
But she don't care, she gonna do what she wants (she wants)”
Watching her ridiculously move with a large bump almost made Miguel chuckle, but he didn’t want to disturb her yet. He waits for her to twirl one more time before stalking toward their bedroom. 
She continues her private concert as she shoves a spoonful of ice cream before using it as a microphone. The utter giddy from these past few months filled her being as she sings out.
“And you can't tie her down
When the night comes around (around)
Said she gonna party all night (all night)
And you can't change her
Can't blame her, can't tame her”
A pair of warm arms wrap around her waist as her heart stops in her chest for a moment before a warm purr rumbles in his chest. She relaxes as her purring lover mumbles, “Parece que tuviste un día divertido, mi amor.” You look like you had a fun day, my love.
“I did.” I giggle as she can feel his hips sway to the music with hers, playfully dancing with her. His warm hands gently rub her stomach as their little one happily greets her father with little kicks. “She’s gonna be ready to fight crime by the time she gets out of there.” She jokes through a particularly hard kick. The mother was now sure that Maria is gonna be as strong as Miguel with the bruises she was starting to have.
“Bien. Quiero que aleje a todos esos niñatos de ella hasta que tenga treinta años.” Good. I want her to fight all of those little boys away from her until she's thirty. Miguel grumbles as he thinks about his little girl possibly dating little punks in the future.
“Papi, she’s not even here yet and you’re already so protective.” She giggles as she turns around in his arms. Her eyes light up as she’s met with her grumpy boyfriend’s bare chest and low-hanging joggers, but a pout appears as she sees the large claw marks and bruises running on his sides.
“Por supuesto que sí.” Of course, I am. Miguel smiles mischievously as the music transitions into a familiar upbeat tune that causes his love’s concern to fade to amusement. “Tengo que proteger a mis hijas y mostrarles cómo los hombres de verdad tratan a sus hijas.”  I have to protect my girls and show them how real men treat their girls.
A whirlwind of laughter fills the room as Miguel starts to pull her into the Cumbia. Her moments of imbalance missteps were soothed by his strong hands as he catches her. The couple spend their evening in each other’s arms dancing and loving their growing family.
~~~~~~~~~~~
taglist:
@ameliadraws @tojisrightnut @whyareyoubored @silly-lovestruck-em @luvil1y @chims-kookies @himesuedi @22carolina08 @chaoticevilbakugo @boredwithlifeatthispoint @hoshhoshh @isaidoop @pheroineux @rosiepetalss @aniya7 @savannahlynnes @boldlypessimistic @dilfaddiction @xsuvs @bunnybopug01 @tanakaslastbraincell @brivers @mistermouseshideyhole @paranoiac-666 @reypolaris @beeframon @sofiahowland376 @bby-lupin @thesrtuggleisveryreal @arminarmout15 @mintellaine @maddsunn @sleepyamaya @meshuao @scaraza @nobarasgfriend @kurxxmi @lemoonandlestars @pix-stuff @galaxieshearme @sunshiines-stuff @iytatsworld @corpsebridenightamare @p-rspective @almostjollypizza @celestiayxl @christinaatyourservice92 @marisolpusheen @hereliespumpkin @lordelvr @shadowlover321 @internal-soundtrack @lotustv @0sftom0 @whosace16 @namjoons-crabssss @baefys-world @namioom @20forty9 @cicithemess2000 @hailssss222 @cityofvoldemort-blog @snow30285 @serenssuga @miguelluvrinnit @sammywammy1 @dameronshandholder @moonlight-fox @miwagila @alexthebootyeater420 @mariaatp @10-jiku2 @uselsshuman @cookiezxx @randomhumans-blog @mothsicn @gingerdissapointment @outspokenmatters @cookieshakr @alex-river1 @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @luna-usagi-chan @icantsleeplol809 @tiredweeb7 @4ishere @i-heart-marvel @mooomeadows @king-julian6201 @local-mr-frog @superbjealousy @wonwuz @lokisnumber1whore @deloe18 @all4koo @gothicgay14 @perrins161 @ghost-with-a-teacup @addictedtothefictionalworld @stevenknightmarc @loxbbg @some-lovely-day @thisisanaccountokaydus @keepingitlokiii @stevenknightmarc @maxi-ride @juneonhoth @fa1rybubbl3z @strxngegirl @iytatsworld @dilfrs @stfugenderfuck @ben-is-a-hoe @coralineyouareinterribledanger @fallinallinmendes @im-sure-its-fine @mirophobic
662 notes · View notes
beebee18 · 2 months
Text
My life?
Chan x Reader
(Inspired by @cheeseceli )
Super self indulgent (had a dream about it)
Reader speaks English and Hindi. (She's me)
Genre: Major fluff, curious Chan, whipped Chan.
(Not proof read)
Would LOVE some feedback, it's my first piece to ever be posted on here. Thank you for reading 🎀
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
He loved listening to you speak Hindi/Urdu. He thought it sounded sweet from you. True you did speak Hindi softer than English, you just thought that the language is 'softness' personified.
So when you were on your phone with you mom, he sat down beside you smiling to greet you. You smiled back and kept speaking into the phone now thinking to cut the conversation short as Chan was finally home, at 2am mind you.
"Accha maa abhi rakhti hoon, raat ke 2 baj rahe hai idhar." You say into the phone
(Okay mom I'll hang up now, it's 2 at night here.)
"Haa beta, so jaana and tell Chan I said 'Hi'." She says.
(Okay baby, go to sleep...)
"Haa bol doongi, love you." You says lastly, your finger hovering over the screen to end the call.
(Yes, I'll tell him...)
"Love you mere jigar ka tukda." With a kiss into the speaker she hangs up as you turn to face Chan.
He looked at you with awe and a little preplexed.
"Bed?" You asked getting up and stretching, looking at him for response.
"Bed." He nods taking your hand and leading you to cuddle you to death. (probably)
Next morning was something else...
"I want to call you something in Hindi, like a nickname. " He says from the dining table chair, as you prepare breakfast.
"Is there a special reason?" You ask plating the French toast now.
"No reason, I just want to." He says pulling you into him, smushing his face into your chest. You giggled at him.
"Okay" You replied, moving back to sit down next to him.
(Later)
"What about 'love'?"
"Pyaar."
"Princess?"
"Rajkumari."
"Angel?"
"Pari."
"I don't love any of them." Chan whined, looking up at you from his head placed on your lap. Doe eyes on complete display with utter annoyance glazed over them.
"You don't have to use them Channie, just call me 'baby' or something. I really don't mind." You assure him, not wanting to make him feel worse.
"But you call me 'jagi' sometimes and it makes me feel all tingly. I wanna do the same." He says, a little sad.
"Oh, what did your mom call you last night? Right before she hung up." He says sitting up straight and turning to you.
"Jigar ka tukda?" He nods violently at your words.
"Chan that means 'piece of my liver', it's not very endearing when it's translated but it's the sweetest thing in Hindi. Also, that's more of a parent-child nickname." You say as his expression turned from excited to grossed out to sad, again.
"Do you think we'll find something cute in animals?" He asks clearly determined to find a suitable name to call you.
"Maybe, I don't know." You shrugged.
"Bunny?"
"Khargosh...nope."
"Agreed, pup?"
"I'd rather you don't call me that at all."
"I was just teasing. Butterfly?"
"Titli."
"Why does it sound weird?" He asks as his face scrunches up.
"You're just saying that cause all you hear when I say it is 'Tit'." You giggle pinching his cheek.
"I do." He laughs, a light blush covering his neck.
"Let's pause this topic here, I'm hungry." You say to him pouting.
"Let's go out, I know this dude, that is an a-mazing chef." He gets up from the sofa pulling you up with his hand in yours and walking towards the door.
A few minutes later you were inside the cuties dorm.
"So by 'going out' you meant the dorms?"
"I meant, anywhere but home."
"And by 'a-mazing chef' you meant Minho?"
"Yep." He pops the 'p' at the end, kisses your temple before informing you that he's gonna go annoy Felix in his room.
You sit down beside Seungmin and Jeongin on the sofa as they play Mario Kart, very focused.
They greet with smiles and nods and hums.
You don't say much either as they seemed engrossed and you didn't wanna see them whine about loosing because of you later at lunch.
"Lunch is served." Says Minho standing in the middle of the dorm in an cartoonish voice.
Everybody settled on the dining table, Minho began to describe the meal he had prepared as the maknaes looked impatient to dig in.
Jeongin taking a bite as soon as Minho finished so everyone could start eating, earning an eye roll from Minho making Chan laugh a little.
"Jaan, could you pass the salt."
You pass the salt to him before fully processing what he said and freezed...
"What....did you call me?" You look at him, a little shocked but also curious.
"Jaan, do you like it?" He asks, looking at his plate, a little shy now as the boys were looking at you both in interest.
"Do I like it?? Channie that's like the best nickname anyone could ever use!!" You smile the widest with a blushing face and kiss his cheek while hugging his side, almost falling down.
He hugs you back of course (saving you from face-planting) laughing to himself.
A gagging sound from Seungmin brought you back to reality, as you looked around you saw a smirk from Felix.
"Did you use Google?" The first thing you asked as soon as you were out of the cuties dorm as your curiosity got the best of you.
"I didn't, jaan." Be says glancing at you with a proud smile before looking back to the road.
Everytime he used it, it felt unreal.
Did he even know the meaning. Of course he did. He wouldn't use such a word all the time without knowing the meaning right?
"Do you know what it means?" You ask, wondering how he found out about it if not for Google.
"Yeah, means you're my life." He answers grinning wide, glancing at you again to gauge your expression. You looked just about ready to be a ripe tomato wanting to melt away.
"How do you know it?" You couldn't just leave it, he could've seen it on the internet somewhere, Hindi wasn't exactly an unpopular language.
"Okay fine, I called your mom and she said she didn't have any but your dad always uses the word for her, so I asked her for the meaning." He says parking the car and coming around to open your door for you.
"So now you're besties with maa?" You snicker at him and walk towards your apartment door.
He's right behind you, his hands on your waist walking into the flat with you and kicking the door closed behind him.
"Can't blame me jaan, you're besties with my entire family." He says kissing your cheek and plopping down on the sofa, patting the space next to him.
"Hayee meri jaan, mera to dil aa gaya." You say kissing him and snuggling in his chest.
(My life, you've got my heart)
"I'm too tired to look for the meaning today. Let's sleep." He says kissing the top of your head and leading you to the bedroom.
"Old man needs his sleep." Seungmin's jokes rubbing off on you was not something Chan was pleased about as he mumbled a 'sure old woman' before pulling you into bed, into his chest to waft away into dreamland.
"Jaan, meri jaan." A soft whisper left his lips before kissing your temple and falling into a deep sleep.
104 notes · View notes