PRINCE OF MONACO ୨୧
♡: following his victory at the monaco grand prix, charles comes home late, back to you, drunk on moët champagne & love.
notes: charles leclerc/reader, established relationship, suggestive content & touches, alcohol, humour, use of french phrases, domesticity & fluff, baths, nudity but no explicit details or sexual activity, charles is a lovedrunk fool in this.
word count: 1.9k
a/n: more cha content out of my own indulgence <3 i wrote this at 11pm & it's a little ridiculous but this is also me projecting my manifestations for him to win his home grand prix this weekend. love you all mwah ᥫ᭡
♡ ✧ 。*・.
The sweet aroma of your Miss Dior: Eau de Parfum in damask rose and incense against pink peonies, clean linen sheets mussed about the inviting embrace of the bed, café au lait from a drained mug on the nightstand beside sweet-smelling lilies, and white, lace stockings abandoned and draped over the velvet loveseat.
Charles' claim of 1st at the Monaco Grand Prix was most blessing, and the perfect excuse for a long night of a plentiful of Moët & Chandon champagne, honorary chants, and celebratory reverie: announcing him the 'prince' of his beloved home, a victory he has been yearning for, since forever.
You had remained with him through the week, watching and admiring through every practice session from your usual seat, enjoying luncheon together and laughing over the usual lovey-dovey or noncommittal subjects as a means to distract him from his nerves before qualifying – the kind of thing he doesn't admit to but you know is only human – and your never-leaving gaze throughout the Grand Prix itself.
Until you got to watch from below with love hearts in your eyes when he stood on that podium, in his true and most divine stature whilst the crowds called for him and the Monégasque anthem resonated like the music of the heavens.
Now, it is quiet in the apartment you both call home, all minimalist but comfortable interior in a palette of white, créme, beige and hints of colour against the décor that define it as yours: the polished trophies before the white-varnished piano, heavy and velvet curtains stirring lazily about closed balconies of their rocaille-esque motifs, the abandoned sweater forgotten on the sofa, your rose crocheting yarn on the coffee table beside a copy of last month's Vogue.
Peaceful and content, stood before the ornate mirror in the en-suite of polished marble and quiet luxury, humming some gentle and absent tune to yourself as you comb your hair – dressed down to the comfortable, white gossamer silk of your négligée – whilst the only tune that resounds being the hushed television down the hall.
It is only a minute later that you are interrupted from your daydreaming by the sound of the mahogany front door as it draws open and closed. The familiar clink of keys set down on the oak furniture in the foyer, shuffled footfalls a little less balanced than usual, quickly silenced against the sound of a familiar voice like melting caramel on the subtle, slurring song of inebriation.
"Chérie?"
Hair comb set down on the neat counter beside the porcelain embellished basin, you absently gnaw at your lower-lip whilst silent feet wander the parquestry of the flooring through the flat in your approach to the source of your boyfriend's return, tucking a hair behind your ear, "Charles, I'm–"
The words are lost on the edge of your tongue the second you emerge from the bedroom's suite, down past the plush sitting area to be met by the sight of him where the corridor joins the rest of the homely setting.
"Bonsoir, bébé."
Even when he is slightly hair-tousled with damp, brunet strays falling about his forehead and the linen of his shirt slightly wrinkled, Charles is a handsome man, devastatingly so; the kind of beautiful that renders the air from your lungs a little even when you hold back light laughter at him now.
From his posture, an effort of an elegant curve to his physique like he is trying to be some suave, pretty flirt from those old, romance comedies you watch, where one elbow is propped against the wood arch of the threshold – the only thing evidently holding him upright – whilst his flushed cheeks strain a little on a dimpled, lazy and contagious smile.
"Hello, Charles."
"Ma belle, I missed you, I'm home," With something close to a brief pout and an attempt at a wink, the man lets his lovely eyes dance down and along your own figure in a lingering admiration and a slow, drawn-out smirk that looks both laughable and far-too-endearing, lithe fingers absently adjusting his loosened shirt collar as you come closer.
"I can see that," In response, you try not to appear amused though it is perceptible on the curve by the corner of your sweet mouth when his eyes follow the subtle shift of your hips as you draw forward until your arms fold around his midriff, breathing him in: champagne and cologne, hints of warm amber and rosewood. "You're drunk."
His arm falls around your shoulder comfortably as he sways against you, kissing the crown of your head like a useless reassurance when he murmurs a lieu of words in the thickened curl of his accent, "Non, ça va, je–"
"Charles." Your face shifts with a look, the both of you stumbling a little backwards where his weight almost has you falling on the edge of a floral rug, a hushed, noncommittal sound close to a chuckle falling from the man as he buries his face into the side of your neck with the punctuation of an open-mouth kiss.
"D'accord, d'accord."
"Stupid," You mutter affectionately, rolling your eyes fondly despite knowing all too well what has him so distracted, the warmth of his mouth and the gentle rasp of his five o'clock shadow tickling the underside of your jaw and the sensitivity there, a purr reverberating from the back of his throat as a response.
"Are you hungry– would you like anything?"
"Just you, chérie, I want to..." The Monégasque trails off momentarily like he is disputing internally with his own dialogue, lightly calloused palms feeling the curve of your waist through pale silk before pausing at your derrière absently – tracing his tongue against the edge of pearlescent teeth – as the two of you move further through the sitting room, his voice a whisper, "Je veux te baiser, mon ange."
With a blush dusting the edges of your cheekbones at the obscène words, you offer a half-apologetic smile whilst stroking back his tousled hair, "How about we get dressed down and settled first, at least?"
Initially, he seems reluctant to offer any hint of acquiescence but he eventually nods a little with a vague sound of acknowledgement, fingertips still feeling over your figure as you walk the path together before reaching the bathroom, the door falling shut gently.
Even when the reality of the presence has you accepting tonight shall be long, the man is undoubtedly his most entertaining and equally sweet as romanticised prophecies when he is intoxicated.
"Mm," It is the only indication you are given when Charles' touch falls upon the lace edges of your négligée, drawing it down the curve of your shoulder slowly as he traces the shell of your ear with his mouth, "You're wearing my favourite."
A soft laugh leaves the depth of your chest – a hushed affirmative sound in reply – before his hands come to cradle either side of your jaw tenderly whilst his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek, the kiss that follows his gentle persuasion more loving, his lips parted softly.
Just as quickly as the almost peaceful, drawn-out intimacy begins, it ends when he gives some hushed, breathless sound of sheer enjoyment whilst his hips absently meets yours until you feel the edge of the basin behind, a palm splaying over his chest just enough to encourage him from pausing.
"We can have a nice bath first and then I might consider your suggestion, monsieur," You offer gently in hushed humour, undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt whilst sealing your sentence with a chaste kiss near his chin.
"I'd much rather have you."
"So romantic," Muttering the words quietly, your nose brushes the bridge of his own fractionally where you see the slight glaze of liquor in his eyes, like gentle moss and warm oak, his mouth shifting almost proudly with momentarily met gazes.
"Only for you, mon cœur, I could write you sonnets of love, la mélodie de tes yeux–"
"Okay, Romeo Montague, how about you wash first?"
The initial hope had only been to coax him into the warmth of the bath waters amongst a touch lavender oil that threatens to lull him further into quiet and peace, wash his hair from your seat and prevent the possibility of any difficulty, though clothes are mutually forgotten on the marble floors and small, white-cotton rug when he guilts you into joining him.
"Charles," A whisper of his name though the cadence of your voice lacks the intent of reproach, bodies close together as he guides you into a comfortable situation about his lap whilst you work nimble fingers through his dampened hair slowly, hoping to distract him from anything but washing and settling down from the dizziness of too much alcohol.
"You smell nice," He mumbles indulgently against your shoulder, tracing a kiss on the jut of your collarbone in the dreamy lull of his voice as though lost in the figments of his own thoughts, "Like les fleurs..."
"And you smell like a bottle of Moët."
The man offers a lowered tune of disagreement, a palm idly stroking the curve of your thigh and down the inside of your knee beneath the warm water as you lather the product through his tresses, holding back a smile when he responds drunkenly like some smitten, hopeless lover of the poets:
"Non, c'est seulement le parfum des nuages."
It is the kind of sweet words that would usually have your cheeks warming or laughing like some conjured image of him in your mind, rifling through books of poetry because you cannot fathom him thinking of such phrases alone, though the moment his lips find the curve of your throat and the sensitive area beneath your jaw, it is harder not to succumb to the gentle temptation and let him have his way, a sigh falling from you.
"What are you doing?"
"Loving you." He says the words so easily, like it is the simplest, most natural truth he could ever admit, the warmth and wetness of his mouth trailing the lines of your throat and across the arch of your shoulders.
"You're ridiculous."
"Ridiculously in love with you," He sounds proud of himself. Then, he is guiding the two of you, bodies pressed flush against one another as you are moved back, the weight of him familiar and the pressure of his mouth meeting yours slowly, "Let me love you, s'il vous plaît, ma chérie."
There are the smallest fragments of his soul and the secrets of his heart within the way his body moves, the gentle touch and the softness, the vulnerability and the passion even in the humour of his intoxicated mannerisms; how he makes love and the manner he holds you after, and there is an undeniable and irrefutable trust you hold for him alone.
a/n: i apologise. this came straight from the recesses of my tired & dreamy mind but i wanted to share, sending love ᡣ𐭩
is there any tom riddle fluff i just need some of them rn 😷😷🥲🤍
✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 … fem!reader x ollie bearman ✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 … in which ollie makes his F1 debut, his girlfriend is there to support and the two quickly become fan favourites. ✰ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 … no warnings!! badly cropped photos of other f1 couples bc I needed to use them :/ ✰ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 … after finding out ollie bearman and I share a birthday, he would not leave my head and this is the result!! as always I hope you like it <3
formulawags
formulawags: ollie bearman and his girlfriend, y/n, entering the paddock on friday and saturday. ollie is set to make his F1 racing debut today after the news broke that Carlos Sainz will not be fit to race this weekend due to appendicitis
… (view all comments)
racingirly: you’re telling me I just discovered this cutie and on the same day I have to find out he has a gf? 😔
⤷ user44: sucks to be you. the F2 girlies winning rn because we know and love y/n
⤷ user51: so real. people have been missing out if they don’t know y/n. her and ollie are easily the cutest couple I’ve ever seen.
⤷ racingirly: well can we get a rundown? how did they meet? how long have they been dating? what does she do for a living?
⤷ user44: they’ve been dating for two years now but they’ve known each other their whole lives. childhood friends. she’s the same age as ollie so she’s currently in uni. don’t know where or what she’s studying tho
⤷ user51: she goes to university of Oxford and she’s studying engineering. that’s why ollie refers to her as “his little genius”
⤷ user90: how do you know all of this?
⤷ user51: her and ollie went live one day at like 2AM and answered a bunch of questions while baking cookies
olliebearman
liked by georgerussel, charlesleclerc, and others.
olliebearman: P7 not bad at all. was an honour to drive for @scuderiaferrari this weekend. hope you feel better soon @.carlossainz and thanks for the tips @.charlesleclerc.
… (view all comments)
dennishauger: has a photo with charles and george but still puts his girl plucking his eyebrows at the front
⤷ olliebearman: priorities man.
formula2: our little ⭐️
yourusername: I love you so much. Beyond proud of you!!❤️
⤷ olliebearman: I love you❤️
paularon: does plucking the eyebrows make you weigh less or what?
⤷ olliebearman: something like that
user70: stop I love them so much. ollie having so many photos of this weekend and posting one of his girlfriend doing his eyebrows means so much to me
yourusername
liked by olliebearman, paularon, and others.
yourusername: F1 debut weekend!! there’s so many things I could say but I’m going to keep it short🥲 I’m so beyond proud of my 🧸man. I’m in awe of him every day and he never fails to amaze me. you’re incredible and I love you so much ollie❤️🥺
… (view all comments)
olliebearman: you mean the world to me. thank you so much for always being my #1 supporter. I love you ❤️
⤷ yourusername: ❤️❤️❤️
paularon: reward kisses huh
⤷ yourusername: always 😌
charlesleclerc: it was very nice to meet you y/n! make sure to come visit the paddock and say hi whenever you’re travelling with ollie! 😊
⤷ user40: STFU😮
⤷ user81: y/n are you breathing?
⤷ olliebearman: she is not. guess I’ll have to do CPR
user52: stop cause I just know ollie was teasing her a bunch about her crush on charles this weekend
⤷ olliebearman: I can not confirm or deny🫡
"she toes the line between them, he says he‘s new at this. there‘s holy ground beneath them and sparks fly when they kiss"
better than the movies by lynn painter
♯ PRACTICE MAKES IT BETTER ; theodore nott
PAIRING! theodore nott x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS! struggling with the local slang, you feel out of place until you meet theodore nott, the silent slytherin (based off this req.!!)
WORD COUNT! 2.3k
WARNINGS AND TAGS! fluff, kissing + lmk !
NOTES! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :)
HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!
AMERICA WAS VIBRANT AND DIVERSE. The music scene was thriving with genres like grunge, hip-hop, and pop dominating the airwaves. To you, it was a place of contrasts and boundless possibilities. It was a land where towering skyscrapers stood next to historic buildings, and where you could find everything from bustling cities to quiet, open countryside. The diversity was striking; every state feels like its own little world, with different cultures, foods, and ways of life. It was a country where you could experience all four seasons, with hot summers, cold winters, and vibrant springs and autumns. The sheer size and variety made it feel like there was always something new to explore, whether it was a national park, a music festival, or just a quirky little town.
Then you moved to England.
Leaving behind the familiar sights and sounds of America, you stepped into a new world of magic and centuries-old traditions.
The first thing you noticed was the climate change. England's weather was full of frequent rain and cloudy skies. You had to get used to bringing an umbrella everywhere with you.
Hogwarts in Scotland was completely different from Ilvermorny, which resided on Mount Greylock. The towering buildings of the castle intimidated you a bit as you were used to the more modern school, but you were excited for the change of scenery.
The stone corridors, moving staircases, and enchanted portraits had captivated your imagination. The castle itself was full of new discoveries. Sure, you missed your old friends dearly, every one of them, but the owls worked hard and you managed to make new friends here.
As an exchange student from America, walking the hallowed halls of Hogwarts was a totally new experience. The ancient castle with its sprawling grounds, enchanted staircases, and hidden passageways was like stepping into a dream. But it wasn't just the magical environment that threw you off balance; it was the British slang that seemed to pop up in every conversation.
During your first week, you found yourself constantly bewildered by the new expressions. At breakfast, when a cheerful Hufflepuff asked if you wanted a "banger" with your eggs, you hesitated, unsure if it was an insult or a menu item. When a Ravenclaw mentioned being "knackered" after a long night of studying, you had to suppress a laugh, thinking it sounded more like a sound effect from a comic book than an expression of exhaustion.
The confusion was endless: "snogging" instead of kissing, "knickers" instead of underwear, "blimey" instead of a simple exclamation of surprise. You did your best to keep up, but the nuances of the language often left you feeling like you were missing the punchline of a joke. To put it simply, you were lost.
One afternoon, you were sitting in the library, poring over a stack of books for a Transfiguration assignment, when you heard a familiar voice behind you.
"Ciao, piccola," Theodore Nott drawled, sliding into the seat across from yours. His presence was effortlessly welcomed, with his cool demeanor and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. He was a strange boy at first, never letting anyone, but when you warmed up to him, he was a totally new person.
"Hi, Theo," you greeted him with a smile playing on your lips. Theodore had been one of the first students to approach you, his Italian heritage a surprising connection. He often teased you in his native language, enjoying the way you fumbled with the unfamiliar phrases. A nuisance, that he was.
"Come va la tua giornata?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. ("How's your day doing?")
Already hearing this phrase a few times, you learned to understand its translation. With a sigh, you ran a hand through your hair. "It's been . . . interesting. I'm still trying to understand half of what everyone says here."
Theo chuckled, the sound rich and warm to your ears. "British slang getting to you?"
"You could say that," you admitted, leaning back in your chair as you watched his amusement at your misery. "I feel like I need a translator just for conversations."
"Well, if you think British slang is confusing, wait until I teach you some Italian slang," Theo smirked at the idea that appeared on his mind. "It's a whole different level."
Now this got your attention. "Teach me, then. It can't be that difficult from the British slang."
Over the next few weeks, Theodore Nott became your informal language tutor. He started with simple phrases, weaving them into everyday conversations until you began to pick them up naturally. He taught you how to greet someone with "Ciao, amico!" instead of a formal "Buongiorno," and how to say "Andiamo!" when you were ready to go.
One rainy afternoon, as you sat together in the Great Hall, Theo decided to test your knowledge. The rain tapped persistently against the high, arched windows, casting a muted gray light across the large hall. The enchanted ceiling mirrored the sky outside, swirling with dark clouds and flashes of lightning that illuminated the space completely. Despite the dreary weather, the Great Hall buzzed with the soft hum of student conversations, punctuated by the clinking of silverware and the rustling of pages.
Theo, seated across from you at the Slytherin table, leaned back casually, a mischievous glint in his eye. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, framing his sharp features. You had grown accustomed to his teasing, the way he delighted in challenging you with phrases in Italian, watching with amusement as you thought through the unfamiliar language. Today was no different, his eyes scanning the hall as if seeking inspiration for his next test.
You had been in the midst of revising for an upcoming Charms exam, your notes spread out around you in a chaotic array of parchment and textbooks. The soft light from the floating candles above cast a warm glow on the pages, making the ink shimmer slightly. As Theo's gaze returned to you, you knew another one of his lessons was coming.
"What would you say if you were really tired?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
Theo's questions were always a blend of practical and playful, designed to push you just a little further each time. He spoke with the ease of someone completely comfortable in his skin, his words flowing like the rain outside, steady and sure. His Italian phrases, though foreign at first, began to weave themselves into the mind of your understanding.
Your responses grew more confident, the hesitation in your voice diminishing with each passing day. You found yourself thinking in Italian at times, the language slipping into your thoughts as naturally as your own. Theo's delight was evident, his eyes lighting up whenever you got something right, his praise sincere and heartfelt.
The rain outside showed no signs of letting up, but within the Great Hall, a warmth lingered.
You thought for a moment, then confidently replied, "Sono stanca morta." The phrase rolled off your tongue more smoothly than before, each syllable a small victory in your journey to master his native language. The meaning — "I'm dead tired" — was all too familiar after long days filled with classes and studying.
Theo laughed, the sound rich and genuine, echoing softly in the near-empty Great Hall. His laughter was like a reward, a confirmation that you were getting it right. Silver eyes sparkled with approval, the corners of his lips curling into a smile that made your heart flutter. The warmth of his reaction was comforting against the dreary, rain-soaked afternoon outside.
"Well done!" His voice was filled with genuine pride and delight, making you feel accomplished. His praise was never out of place; it was always heartfelt.
Your heart swelled with a mix of pride and joy. Learning Italian was not just about understanding a new language, but also about bridging the gap between your worlds. Each phrase, each word, was a step closer to understanding Theo better, and a way to connect on a deeper level.
He leaned forward slightly, his eyes searching yours, waiting for your next move. "And if you wanted to compliment someone on a job well done?" His question was another gentle challenge, pushing you to dig deeper into your newfound vocabulary.
"Bravo!" you answered without hesitation. The word felt natural, a perfect fit for the context. As you spoke, you couldn't help but smile, the simple word carrying a world of meaning and mutual respect. Seeing the approval in Theo's eyes, you felt a surge of confidence.
Theo's smile broadened, and his expression softened with pride and admiration. The approval in his eyes was more than just about your grasp of the language; it was about your willingness to immerse yourself in something new, to share a part of his heritage, to make an effort to connect.
The atmosphere around you felt lighter, the earlier tension of the day's studies dissolving into a shared moment of triumph and connection. The Great Hall, with its towering windows and ancient stone walls, seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in your own little world of language and laughter.
The candles above flickered gently, casting a warm glow that danced across Theo's features, highlighting the pride in his eyes.
One day, as you walked together by the Black Lake, the cold water reflecting the moody sky, Theo turned to you, his expression thoughtful. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the ancient trees that lined the shore, their branches swaying rhythmically as if in silent conversation. The scene was picturesque, the expanse of the lake stretching out before you, a serene contrast to the bustling life within the castle walls. It was quiet out here, and you liked this spot.
"You know, you've picked up Italian slang faster than I expected," Theo remarked, his voice carrying a hint of admiration and surprise. His thoughtful tone blended seamlessly with the natural sounds around you, creating a moment of perfect harmony.
You laughed, the sound bright and carefree, echoing across the still waters. Nudging him playfully, you replied, "Maybe I had a good teacher." The playful banter was a reflection of the easy camaraderie that had developed between you, a testament to the countless hours spent learning and laughing together.
Theo's smile softened at your words, a tender expression that seemed to light up his face. His gaze lingered on you, the depth of his affection and pride evident in his eyes. The way he looked at you made your heart flutter, each shared glance made your knees tremble. Like you were the only girl at Hogwarts.
"Maybe," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with a warmth that enveloped you. "Or maybe you just have a knack for languages." His words were a gentle compliment, a recognition of your efforts and abilities.
The path around the Black Lake was peaceful, the occasional ripple disturbing the otherwise mirror-like surface of the water. The air was crisp and fresh, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and damp earth. As you walked side by side, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you, the rest of the universe fading into the background.
Your footsteps synchronized, a silent dance of familiarity and comfort. The conversations flowed effortlessly, alternating between Italian lessons and shared dreams, each word weaving a tapestry of understanding and companionship. Theo's presence was a constant, steady and reassuring, his thoughtful insights and quiet encouragements a source of strength.
The sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the landscape. The twilight hues painted the sky in shades of pink and orange, a breathtaking sight that added to the magic of the moment. Theo's silhouette against the backdrop of the setting sun was a picture of serenity and quiet strength, a reminder of the stability he brought into your life.
Before you could fully process what was happening, the Slytherin boy took a small step closer, closing the distance between you. The warmth of his presence enveloped you, his proximity sending a gentle thrill through your body. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against yours, the touch sending a spark of electricity up your arm.
In that moment, with the golden light of dusk casting a magical glow around you, Theo leaned in. His movements were deliberate, filled with a tender hesitation. As his lips met yours, the world seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of pure, unadulterated connection.
The kiss was gentle at first, a soft press of lips that spoke everything you needed to know. The taste of his lips, the warmth of his breath, the gentle caress of his hand against your cheek — it all combined to create a sensation that was both exhilarating and deeply comforting.
Theo's hand moved to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. The kiss deepened, becoming more confident, more insistent. Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. The connection between you intensified, the kiss becoming a language of its own, expressing everything words couldn't.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. The world slowly came back into focus, the sounds of nature reasserting themselves around you. Theo's eyes, still holding that mix of affection and awe, met yours. A soft, contented smile played on his lips.
"Grazie, Theo," you said softly, your voice filled with gratitude.
"For what?" he asked confused, his brow furrowing slightly.
"For being patient with me. For this. For . . . everything."
Theo's eyes softened, and he reached out, intertwining your fingers in one. "No worries," he replied, his voice just as soft. "I'm glad I could help."
F1 DRIVERS AS ROM-COMS ♡‧₊˚
ALEX ALBON - to all the boys i’ve loved before!
CARLOS SAINZ - letters to juliet!
CHARLES LECLERC - the princess diaries!
DANIEL RICCIARDO - my big fat greek wedding!
FERNANDO ALONSO - mamma mia!
GEORGE RUSSELL - dirty dancing!
LANCE STROLL - pretty woman!
LANDO NORRIS - wild child!
LEWIS HAMILTON - the wedding singer!
LOGAN SARGEANT - aquamarine!
MAX VERSTAPPEN - mr. & mrs. smith!
OSCAR PIASTRI - 10 things i hate about you!
˖°𓇼 bf!percy who asks his mom for help on what to do for valentines day. bf!percy takes you to the beach even though he takes you regardless. bf!percy who takes you to montauk specifically, renting out the little cabin he and his mother used to go to. bf!percy who immediately drags you to the sea, half-pushing you into the waves in his excitement. bf!percy who controls the sea so that the waves are fun but not too big or scary for you. bf!percy who teaches you how to surf because he can control the intensity of the waves. bf!percy who hires a boat to take you to the nearby island. bf!percy who guides you to the deep-ish part to go "scuba diving", which is really just watching fish (the fish ask about you). bf!percy who asks for a favor from his dolphin friends and takes you dolphin-riding during the sunset. bf!percy who runs around in the sand and tumbles in the surf with you, laughing as you squeal at the water licking your feet. bf!percy who kisses you any chance he gets, your lips a little chapped because of the salt. bf!percy who sits with you at night, listening to the song of the sea with the stars shining above. bf!percy who brings you into the cabin, telling you stories that his mom told him when he was a kid and, in turn, listen to your own. bf!percy whose hand crawls over to yours like a hopeful crab, taking it in his grasp and caressing it softly.
"stay away from me!" you squeal, feet slapping against the wet, firm sand beneath your feet, leaving little indentations that are soon defaced by a bigger pair of footprints.
the sea water clinging to your skin is turned cool by the seaside air, making you shiver. you take deep breaths as you run across, the tinge of salt reaching your lungs as you try to get away from the boy with a hermit crab reached out in your direction.
in moana fashion the water assumes the shape of a hand, wrapping around your ankle and pulling you down. the waves cushion your fall, leaving you crawling around in the sand as percy, cackling, squats down beside you with the creature in his palm.
"arnold wants to say hi," he says, smugly. your eyes narrow in faux annoyance, but you can't help the affection swelling in you at this stupid, crooked smile and the wind tousling his hair.
"i don't want to say hi to arnold."
"aw, he's hurt!"
"he pinched my toe!"
"you stepped on him!" he snorts, thrusting his hand into your face where the blue-shelled hermit crab was, and you could feel the creature's distastful look at you.
"percy," you whine. "set me free!"
he shrugs. "well, alright, then." he sets down the crustacean to run off and relinquishes his hold on your ankle. his green eyes sparkle with amusement as he watches you push yourself up, only to widen in surprise when you run in his direction and body slam him down onto the sand.
percy's hands instinctively place themselves on your waist as the breath is knocked out of his lungs. unstopppable laughs are ripped out from him as you assault his torso with sandy punches, a huge smile on your own face as he attempts to salvage his face.
"my hair!" he complains, the black waves literred with grains of sand.
"your hair?" you demand, incredulous. "my hair!" well, sure enough, the salt in the air and water had turned it dry and crunchy.
he catches your wrists. "i like your hair." percy pulls you in, getting up, and kisses you softly.
you pull away, face scrunched up. "you're salty."
"i'm salty? you're salty!"
dividers by: @strangergraphics and @ianrkives
──── blahaj / shark !
pairing ! Percy Jackson x fem!reader content warning ! silly smut, fluff, very short!!
"Why'd you go all quiet, huh?"
Percy — all sweaty and huffy from the sweltering heat that was currently surrounding the both of you — stopped his movements for a moment, to take a much-needed breather, and to check in with you!
Your wide eyes staring up at him did little to not immediately start grinding into your fluttering walls again…, but Percy tried to think with his head for the moment, and not the one that was desperately twitching inside of you.
"Can’t when he’s watching us…" you answered softly, almost silent enough to have him miss what you just said.
"Uh— what?" He’s not sure who you mean, his own eyes going wide as he thinks someone is watching the both of you in such an intimate moment. Although he doubts there are many creeps around camp— but you can never be sure, yea?
The son of Poseidon quickly looks out the window then, or tries to, anyway, because the curtains are drawn. Like always when he decides to devour you under the sheets.
"Pretty girl, I really don’t know what you mean, please."
You were killing him here, speaking seemingly nonsense when he all but desperately clung to the last little bit of sanity, before he would have to either pick up the pace again or slip out of you…
And Percy certainly didn’t want the latter!
He watches as you become all blushing under his gaze and sheepishly point to the side of his bed. And there, staring into your soul — soaking everything up that was happening, or at least that’s what it felt like for you — was this huge plush shark. The one you'd brought him from Ikea that one time…
A slight snort passes through his lips as he follows your pointed finger, and he has to lean down for a moment to press his forehead against yours. You meant the shark! Of course, you meant the shark…
"But pretty girl," he slowly grins against your skin again, making your breath stutter in the best way possible. "I like when he sees m' taking care of his mommy, hm?"
"Perce!" — "okay, okay. fine..."
Defeated, and with much effort — because he really, really doesn't want to slip out of you now — Percy stretches his arm over your head and half-heartedly turns the poor plush shark around, so that he's no longer 'watching'.
"Better, hm?" a kiss is gently placed to your forehead and your eyes flutter close at his softness, before his gentle caresses turn deliciously rough again, and you're left gasping and clawing...
"Yea, there we go..., lemme hear you, pretty girl..."
summary: remus and you had been dating for a while now but he never told you about his condition, worried about your reaction only to learn that you never cared
pairing: remus lupin x reader
warnings: none!
the lake reflected the moon, with only the stars providing any additional light. these were the sweet moments in which life seemed simple, easy and carefree. everything in this atmosphere you were inserted in screamed peace. your boyfriend besides you was what finally brought you to reality again. you smiled to yourself, your gaze lingering in his face. you felt his hand squeezing yours the moment your eyes met.
I might be in love with you, you thought to yourself. you felt the grip on your hand tightening
oh, you said it out loud. when you were about to apologise yourself, afraid you had made him uncomfortable you felt remus shifting besides you. your brows furrowed in confusion when you felt his body on top of yours, pressing your back against the grass.
“what are you doing?” you asked, shoulders shaking with laughter. remus didn’t answered you for a few seconds. he just stayed there, careful to not hurt you, his arms embraced you, breathe getting lighter. you pressed your lips together
“rem, are you-“ you tried to say, not finishing your sentence due to his interruption
“please don’t say that,” remus gulped “you’d wish you haven’t said that. believe me, okay?”
you furrowed your brows again, trying to make sense of his words. how could you regret loving him? remus sat down besides you, eyes shifting everywhere but never meeting yours. you saw the conflict in his eyes, whatever it was about he surely didn’t wanted to talk about it
“I just,” he sighed ”maybe if you knew me for what I…” remus shook his head as if he tried to brush the idea of his mind, looking like he was on the verge of crying “I will not ask where you came from and neither should you”
you smiled softly “I would not ask and neither would you” you reassured, hands cradling his face “we should just kiss like real people do”
aaron warner family headcanons
The Warner Family.
pairings: dad!aaron warner x mom!reader
summary: get to know more about the warner family!
warnings: fluff, domestic, ooc, domestic shenanigans, protective aaron warner …
🪩:: voicemail ; read my other aaron warner fics here.
Aaron found out about it when he heard some crying in the bathroom at the middle of the night, noticing your lack of presence beside him, he got worried and walk towards the bathroom.
There, he saw you, in front of a mirror having a breakdown.
He approached you and asked whats wrong.
“love?” he said softly, as he hugged you from behind and caressed your hair, “My love, whats wrong?” he asked you worriedly.
“aaron..” you trailed off as you continue to sob. He hugged you tightly and kissed your forehead , pulling away as he make you look at him, “what is it, angel? You can tell me.” he urged you.
“I’m pregnant.” you blurt out.
With the lack of reply, you panicked.
“I missed my period recently and I feel kinda shit lately so me juliette and nazeera bought an pregnancy test earlier and I tested all 7 of them and they are all positive, I don’t—”
As you were rambling, he quickly hugged you tightly and lifting you up to the ground as he span you around. You laugh softly at this gesture as he peppered kisses to your face and hair while he whispered sweet nothings.
“Its okay. We will be okay. Don’t worry. We got this, yeah? I love you. Thank you. Thank you, I love you so much, My love.”
at the first stage he got nervous about being a dad and have some self doubt but later got over it as he saw you patying your belly despite it still not visible.
he got more protective over you and never ever let you do things.
you guys told your friends by a guess the word game. They all cried.
He bought a book about being a dad and take notes on pregnancy books to help you out.
Baby proofs the every part of the house immediately.
He went to every appointment with you
He never ever made you feel guilty for your cravings.
Oh you want a food from a store hours away? Just wait.
A hellspawn food combination that you want? He will eat it with you.
Massage? Done.
A food from a different country? He ordered his men to get it ASAP.
Want some sweets especially made by your husband even though you have never tasted his baking? He learned how to bake immediately!
You guys did an gender reveal in the most fun way.
You did it as both kenji and juliette worn a baby costume with 'boy' written in the blue bib for juliette while 'girl' in a pink bib for kenji
They both FIGHT to determine who wins to know the gender
They even go overboard as they jumped into the swimming pool racing each other to the finish line
Kenji won.
So, its a girl!
You guys decorated her room immediately
You did ALOOOTTTT of shopping!!!!!
Your husband just spoils you rotten as you keep buying cute toys, plushies, and pretty cute clothes!!!
“my love, don't you think its a bit too much?” “I am sure the little princess do not need that much clothes, honey.”
he gave up as soon as he saw some cute baby clothes + a matching one.
When you guys did a baby shower its so emotional like omg you guys are gonna be parents!
You and Aaron planted a tree so it grows with baby dior!
teenager!dior safe place is the tree, she goes there to lay down, read and to relax when stresses!
Your friends wrote letters for dior to read when she reached the age 7, 11, 13, 15, 16, 18, 20, 21 and 22!
You and aaron made her a gmail account as you guys constantly wrote her some letters and random things there for her to read in the future
When you went into the labor he desperately wished to take away your pain and was crying with you. He comforted you as he cares your hair and gives you kisses.
“shh, its okay, baby. Im here. Im not going anywhere. ”
“you got this, my love. You are doing so well.”
“Aaron! I can't do this—”
“yes, yes you can, darling.”
He really can't bare to see you in so much pain even though he had seen so much worse
He was very gentle and was crying when he held your baby girl in his hands. His princess, his girls, his universe.
After the labour, you were barely allowed to do things in the house, he only let you rest while he take cares with everything.
You guys had an 3 months lockdown, not allowing anyone to visit the baby
Always keeping an eye for baby monitors
You and him do an rock, paper scissors when it comes to changing baby Dior diapers (he lets you win, sometimes.)
Dior have your eyes so he is a victim to those puppy dog eyes. He can't say no to you, what more to his princess especially with your eyes?
Learns to do her hair!!
Dior first words is not 'momma' or 'dada' it was Kenny. Kenny. You and aaron felt betrayed.
Despite with the nickname, kenji teared up and always paraded the moment (to your husband dismay) he grows to adore the nickname when she keep calling him that
He sometimes forget that he played dress up with baby di so sometimes he go to work with tiara, ribbons, those princess accessories on him.
“Refrain from laughing, there is nothing funny about this matter.” “uh...theres something on you, sir.” “oh.”
Sometimes they were to scared to point it out
Kenji, nazeera and juliette made fun of him not until they were a victim of the dress up
At one point, kenji kidnapped baby dior and was later banned from seeing her for 2 months (barely a month in dior throwed a tantrum wanting to see her uncle kenny)
Baby dior played with your make up when she misses you! She wanna look like you because she misses you so much
Dior is an nature girlie! Aaron believes his angel is a reincarnated of persephone/artemis
Baby dior wears her pants backwards. She believes that “tails” should be at the back. You and Aaron gave up on the fight.
You guys had an motto that if its not hurting anyone or themselves, don't fight it. Let them.
One time you guys thought she was playing phone call but turns out she was in an hour real call with james.
Seashells hunting !!!!!
Everytime you guys went to a beach aaron always buy a big beautiful seashell then hides it in the sand for her to find!!! And her reactions always makes you and him melt!!
he also buries some treasure chests
He made an contract of no boyfriend until shes 30 and made baby dior sign with her prints with paints. He framed it.
You scold him for that and he just shrugs lol
teenage!dior have you in her closefriend and private insta!!
she collects shells and glue them to a cardboard and gifts it to you!
She wants a sibling so one day she just go “I want a baby sister or brother 🥺”
Keeps wishing on a well for it
Aaron is 100% in he just goes “Princess, ask mommy :)” “me too, baby. Let’s just ask momma for it, hm?”
Well, let’s just say she always get what she wants…
authors note: I had fun doing this Omg I wanna make it a series, do you guys want it? Please let me know!!! Feedbacks and reactions are very much appreciated!!!
(Aaron Warner) tag list 🏷 : @ravisinghs-wife @ab-baybay @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @cosmicswan
If you want to be added to my A.W tag list plz let me know in my inbox ! 💌
Summary - After Charles wins a race and everyone takes notice of how he runs straight to you
Warnings - Swearing
FaceClaim - Gracie Abrams
Type - SMAU
Requested - No - Yes
Liked by - Charles_Leclerc and 87,828 others
Tagged | @/Charles_Leclerc
F1.News - Charles wins in Singapore !!!!! Bringing Ferrari back to the top step where it belongs ❤️
View all comments
User1 - FORZA FERRARI
User2 - and a night race as well, makes it even better
User3 - Only he could end Max’s steak
User4 - Y/n looked so proud of him 🫠
User5 - OMG FR
User6 - As a Ferrari fan, this was needed
User7 - Okay but did anyone else see the way Charles just ran to Y/n 😭
User8 - Yes omg it was so adorable
Liked by - Charles_leclerc, Lilymhe and 2,009,927 others
Tagged | @/Charles_Leclerc
Yourusername - Words can’t explain how proud I am of you baby, you did amazing out there today ❤️
View all comments
User9 - AW
User10 - I need love like theirs
User11 - Girl we all do
User12 - Write another song about him now
Liked by author
User13 - Y/N WHAT?
Charles_Leclerc - Thank you, Mon Ange. je t'aime
Yourusername - je t'aime ❤️
User14 - HER LEARNING FRENCH FOR HIM IS EVERYTHING
User15 - Okay but the way Charles RAN to Y/n
User16 - FR LIKE ON ONES SPEAKING ABOUT IT
User17 - The fact that he just pulled up and jumped out of the car and ran to her 😭
User18 - Like before getting weighed or taking off his gloves or helmet even though he probably got in trouble
User19 - This man’s so in love omg 😭
User20 - Literally my parents
GracieAbrams - Mom and dad
Yourusername - You’re older than me sweetheart
GracieAbrams - Idc you’re my mom and dad
Charles_Leclerc - Okay daughter
GracieAbrams - Charles gets it
Yourusername- Awh my own family
User21 - CRYING THIS IS SO CUTE
Liked by - Charles_ Leclerc, GracieAbrams and 4,912,001 others
Tagged | @/Charles_Leclerc
Yourusername - “I once believed love would be burning red, but it’s golden” Is a lyric I wrote once for my song daylight, that you all loved so much, but some were confused because they thought me and Charles split cause he’s literally the personification of the colour red and blah blah, it was funny experience for us both honestly. But when I wrote that lyric, I wrote it in a way meaning that my entire life I’ve believed that love was red, burning with desire and eventually the colour fades out and disappears eventually, kind of like a flame. But when I met my Charles, that whole view I had on love changed, he showed me that love didn’t have to disappear or eventually fizzle out, that it could be something solid and everlasting, something golden. So, to celebrate Charlie’s recent win, I’m deciding to release I song I’ve had in the vault for a while now, it’s called, “The Alchemy”. This song is for you of course, but also for Charles, for being my alchemist who showed me something can last forever. “The Alchemy” is out now, I love you all, enjoy ❤️
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User22 - WHAT YHE FUCK THIS IS SO FUCKING CUTE
User23 - I told you whores that daylight line had a different meaning
User24 - THE LRYICS OF THIS GO CRAZY TF
User25 - FR THEYRE SO CUTE
User26 - LIKE “The sign on your heart says it’s still reserved for me”
User27 - I need someone who loves me the way Charles loved Y/n and the way she loves him
User28 - Now we know why she says about him turning things to gold so often, he make her life golden 😭
User29 - The song and caption are so cute but nobody’s focusing on THE. PICTURES. 😭
User30 - They’re adorable 😭
GracieAbrams - if they ever break up I won’t believe in love anymore
User31 - She’s so real
User32 - Same Gracie
User33 - Me two
Yourusername - Me three
User34 - “Where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me.” SHE ACKNOWLEDGED HIM JUST GOING STRAIGHT TO HER AFTER HIS WIN, I LOVE THIER LOVE ONG 🥲🥲
Charles_Leclerc - je t'aime tellement mon ange 🤍 (I love you so much, my angel)
Yourusername - je t'aime plus, pour toujours 💕 (I love you more, forever)
User35 - If my future partner doesn’t learn my native language for me I don’t want them
User36 - They’re too cute
Liked by - Yourusername, LandoNorris and 1,991,992 others
Tagged | @/Yourusername
Charles_Leclerc - Red used to be everything to me, but now idk. I like the sound of gold. je t'aime, mon ange 🤍
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User37 - The only relationship ever
User28 - He’s in love love
User29 - They both are 🥲
Yourusername - I love you and your ability to make things golden.
Charles_Leclerc - I love you so much more, mon ange 🤍
——