norris, piastri, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russell, verstappen
cw: fluff, slight suggestive (verstappen), f!reader.
now playing: pretty boy by the neighborhood
______________________________________________
✹ lando norris
lando would be the type to act annoyed but absolutely loves it. he just won't admit it but you know it.
"hey, pretty boy", you whisper against his lips, leaving a sweet peck on it just to be met with a pouty and flustered lando. "i told you to stop calling me that!" he whines, but deep down he hopes that you'll never stop. you look at him with a playful smile, softly caressing his hair. "okay, i'll stop if it makes you uncomfortable", you wait impatiently for his reaction and as you excepted, lando start to panic. "i mean... you can but you know... just not in front of other people", he laughs nervously, hoping that his excuse is good and his cheeks start heating up. you can't help but laugh softly, pulling him close by the neck and lando pouts again, "stop making fun of me!", your smile softens and you plant another kiss on his lips, "sorry, you're just too cute, my pretty boy". lando's cheeks are now completely red and he tries to hide it by pulling you in a long and warm kiss, feeling the butterflies going crazy in his stomach.
✹ oscar piastri
oh my god, please don't do this to him. as soon as he hears the word, his brain starts malfunctioning.
"you did so good!", oscar pulls you for a warm hug, holding you as tight as he can. he loves seeing you after races and hearing how proud you are of him no matter what he do. you pull out, staring at him like his eyes holds stars and oscar can't help but feel overwhelmed by all the adoration he sees in your eyes. you put your hand on his cheek, stroking it softly. "i'm so proud of you, my pretty boy" and even though you mean it, a hint of teasing can be heard and oscar groans, pulling you in a new hug to hide his face in your neck "if you call me that again, i think i'm gonna die" he mumbles against your skin. you laughs, one of your hands slides in his messy curls, your fingers playing with it. you will never get over how cute your boyfriend is when you call him pretty.
✹ charles leclerc
he absolutely loves it and won't deny it, even if he gets a bit shy when you call him pretty. he can't control it, his heart gets warm and the butterflies in his stomach goes crazy.
you were getting ready for a cute date and charles was wearing a new shirt, with flowers on it. as soon as he's ready, you lock your arms around his neck and you look at him with a big smile on your face. after planting a sweet peck on his lips, one of your hands cup his cheek. "you're so pretty, baby", your voice is full of adoration and honesty and charles' smiles gets wider. "thank you, chérie", he says softly and he immediately pulls you for a gentle kiss, hoping that you didn't notice the way his cheeks has redden, but you didn't miss it.
✹ carlos sainz
he loves it, like really loves it. he finds it funny tbh. and he won't hesitate to give the word back to you.
"woah, what a pretty boy", you look at him showing you his brand new haircut. he laughs, posing in front of you a little more before joining you on the sofa, pulling you on his lap and placing a kiss on your nose. "got pretty for my pretty girl, we are such a pretty couple", you both giggles before sharing a kiss, laughing and smiling against each other's lips. but, even if he doesn't want to admit it, carlos can feel his heart beating a bit faster and a sweet feeling in his stomach when he hears you call him pretty.
✹ lewis hamilton
he would get so shy, make it seems like he doesn't like it and it annoys him but he can't hide it for long, he always ends up with a big smile on his face and a heart beating faster than it should.
"ahhh, stop it y/n", he whines as you continue to leave kisses all over his face, sitting on his lap. "but, you're so pretty!", you say, cupping his cheeks to look at him in the eyes. he groans, acting annoyed by pulling you out of his lap and you try your best to fight the smile creeping on your lips. you both know that he's just flustered and wants to hide his red cheeks. "come on, baby, let me finish my kisses", he doesn't fight you when you climb back on his lap but he crosses his arms, trying to hold onto his character and you laugh softly, going back to leaving small pecks all over his face. it doesn't take long before he finally smiles, his hands finding your waist to pull you close and kiss you back. he just can't resist you.
✹ george russell
he always tries to ignore the way it makes him feel and act unbothered but he can't fight the way his body warm and a smile instinctively forms on his lips. he just loves getting praised by you.
"baby, can you pass me the knife, please?" you ask, preparing the vegetables and george, who has been helping and watching you cook for an hour now, hand you the knife as fast as he can. you turn to face him, placing your free hand on his neck to pull him close, "thank you, pretty boy", you says softly and he places a kiss on your lips, smiling softly "you're welcome" he says, trying to sound as neutral as he can and you pout, acting disappointed, "what? you don't like when i call you that?", you know that he do. you just want to hear it. he looks at you, a playful smile forms on his lips. "i know what you're doing", he chuckles and pulls you for another kiss. you end up both laughing, george's heart feeling full.
✹ max verstappen
he gets all nervous and doesn't know how to act anymore. like, if you want to make a mess of this man, just call him pretty.
max have been acting flirty all day, enjoying teasing you and seeing you all flustered in front of other people. you tried your best to keep your cool all day, playfully punching him from time to time or just laughing it off. but when you two end up alone at the end of the day, you're finally able to get your revenge. you start making out, getting more and more touchy and needy. "take off your shirt, pretty boy", you whisper in his ear, and max almost startle. a playful smile forms on your lips and you don't even have to look at him to know that his cheeks are now red. after a good minute of no reaction from him, you finally meet his eyes, giving him a confused look. "is everything okay?", you try to hide your teasing tone but max doesn't miss it, a playful grin finally forming on his lips and he chuckles; "naughty girl".
______________________________________________
✰ 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🫡
pairing: lorenzo berkshire x fem!slytherin!reader
genre: fluff, sweetheart enzo, brief suggestive content, enzo is a big softie basically
summary: in a world filled with men, there’s lorenzo berkshire, a sweetheart and gentleman
Lorenzo Berkshire was a sweetheart.
Everybody knew that the down to earth Slytherin couldn’t hurt a fly even if he wanted to, and weirdly did not fit the stereotypical mean Slytherin persona despite hanging with Draco and his friends.
In fact, a lot of things that Lorenzo did were out of the ordinary for his crowd of people. Whenever Draco would pull a first year by their backpacks so their bodies would fling back, Lorenzo always muttered an apology after, offering the first year a cookie the next day. It was just who he was; he was a sweet boy, and that often meant he was also very clueless.
Sure, he was smart in his classes, but in everything else? Lorenzo was practically the virgin of all virgins.
“Her eyes are up here Enzo,” Pansy teased, watching as Lorenzo’s eyes finally shifted off your chest to look at Pansy in the eyes.
“Huh?”
“Well I know they’re nice,” you tease further, “but it’s rude to stare, y’know.”
“Oh,” Lorenzo’s eyebrows furrow, clearly confused. He’s either great at playing the dumb role or he genuinely has no idea what you and Pansy are inciting.
“What do you mean?” Lorenzo then moves his hand over to touch the gold colored necklace on your neck. “I was just looking at the new necklace you got. It’s nice.”
Oh. You didn’t think anyone would notice your new necklace. You bought it over the holidays when you went back home with your family, and had just started wearing it now.
“Thanks Enzo,” you say, placing a kiss on his cheek. He pulls back flustered, but he mutters a you’re welcome under his breath.
“LO BOY!” Lorenzo is quickly pulled into a headlock by no other than Draco Malfoy, who seems to find his friend struggling hilariously funny. “Oh what’s wrong Lo? Got your head in a knot?”
“Boys.” You and Pansy mutter, rolling your eyes as you both get up from your seats, heading to the much more quiet Great Hall.
- - -
The next time you see Lorenzo is in your Potions class. He’s on the left of you, and you’re almost falling asleep at the boring lecture of your professor. He always seem to talk more than actually teach how to mix potions.
“Pssst,” Lorenzo mutters to your partner as he hands her a slip of paper. “Be a peach and pass it to Y/N?”
Your partner, who has developed a little crush on Lorenzo only blushes, accepting the piece of paper and tapping you on the shoulder.
“Here,” she says, “it’s from Lorenzo.”
Your eyebrows quirk up, slowly unfolding the crinkled paper.
Your hair is pretty today
You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile. Lorenzo just knew how to swoon a girl over, didn’t he? He doesn’t even have to try and your knees would still feel weak.
So my hair isn’t pretty on other days?
You scribble down, passing it back to your partner who passes it to Lorenzo.
His eyes grow wide when he reads it, opting to shake his head quickly.
“Not what I meant,” Lorenzo mouths.
“I know,” you mouth back, giving him a smirk. “Thank you Enzo.”
And you both end up more pink than the potions that were made in class that day.
- - -
“What do you even do in your free time?” Theodore asks, poking Lorenzo’s cheek repeatedly to annoy him. “Like read?”
“Like read?” Lorenzo mimics back. “Yes, I read. You should too Teddy, it’d be good for you.”
Theodore rolls his eyes, “I don’t need to read. And don’t call me Teddy.”
When you arrive in the dining hall, Theodore and Lorenzo already make a space for you to sit in between them. Usually, Pansy and Draco would be sitting across from the three of you, but today, they were off doing Godric knows what.
“Pans and Draco not here today?” Lorenzo asks, still focusing on the assignment he was finishing up before dinner ends.
“Nope,” you say, popping the p. “No idea what they’re doing.”
“Oh,” Theodore chuckles, “I have a few ideas.”
That makes the two of you burst out laughing, and Lorenzo finally looks up from his paper.
“What?” He asks. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh Enzo,” Theodore places a hand on his friend’s back, “never change.”
Lorenzo rolls his eyes, shrugging Theodore’s hand off. “Whatever that means.”
When Theodore finally heads off to the Slytherin common room, you and Lorenzo are left alone, the small conversations of the other students surrounds the two of you.
“Working hard on that assignment,” you say quietly to Lorenzo, bringing up your hand to pull a few strings of hair that were poking his eyes.
“Well someone’s gotta be the smart one in our friend group,” he says teasingly.
“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not smart?” Your hands start to wander, coming to each of Lorenzo’s sides to tickle him. He was especially ticklish around his abdomen.
“H-hey! Stop that!” He laughs, pushing your hands away. “Okay okay, we’re both the smart ones.”
“And Pansy,” you add.
“And Pansy.”
- - -
When you walked out to the lake that sat across from the Slytherin common room, you didn’t expect to find Lorenzo feeding the ducks. He was crouching, softly throwing a few pieces of crushed up bread at the ducks that now surrounded him.
“What are you doing Lo?” You ask, walking beside him.
“Not too loud,” Lorenzo says, “you’ll scare them away.”
He continues doing what he does before he runs all out, deciding to finally turn to you and throw an arm around your shoulder. “Evening.”
“Evening Enzo,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It was out of habit, and you did it regularly, but it didn’t stop Lorenzo from blushing every time it happened.
“I was feeding the ducks,” he explains, although it was pretty clear what he was doing. “I like them, they’re nice and pretty. Draco sometimes throws rocks at them, so it’s kind of my way of apologizing for him.”
You ruffle Lorenzo’s hair slightly, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. “Oh Enzo, you sweetheart.” But he doesn’t hear you, instead, choosing to admire the scenery of the lake.
- - -
“You know what’d be funny?” Mattheo says, already laughing before he could get out the rest of his sentence. “If we pied the girls. Pansy and Y/N.”
Lorenzo’s ears perk up at this, but he keeps quiet. Why was his friends always looking to get into trouble?
“They’d totally kill us,” Theodore comments.
“That’s why we have to do it.”
The boys had already gotten two pies and their plan figured out before Lorenzo could stop them. He watched as they hide it behind their backs, approaching you and Pansy who were both engrossed in your conservation.
“Wait,” Lorenzo mumbles, quickly following his group of friends. When he sees their hand from their back move as they speak to you and Pansy, he steps in front of the two of you, getting hit straight in the face with the two pies.
“Huh..” Lorenzo says, wiping away the whipped cream that was covering his eyes. “Key lime.”
“Enzo,” you say, knowing that this was probably one of Mattheo or Draco’s dumb ideas again. “You guys apologize to Lorenzo right now.”
The three boys sigh defeatedly, muttering a quiet sorry to their brunette friend who’s still wiping the whipped cream from his face.
“Why’d you do that Enzo?” You ask him as the two of you sat down on the grass. You’d finally got all the whipped cream off his face with a towel, and although Enzo won’t admit it, he was kind of grateful he did end up getting pied. After all, a pretty girl was cleaning him up after all, and not just any pretty girl, his close friend.
“Cause you’re too pretty to get pied.” He shrugs, which makes you smirk.
“Too pretty?”
“Well yeah,”
You laugh at Lorenzo’s honesty, and finally, you lean in to give him a kiss on the lips instead of the side of his cheek.
“Did you just-”
“Shh,” you say, grabbing ahold of his hand. “Just let me appreciate you right now. In a world full of just men, you’re a gentleman Enzo.”
And Lorenzo only smiles, knowing he’s finally got the girl of his dreams.
bet you’re thinking she’s so cool ˖⋆࿐
the soul of siara ♡ stephanie garber novels, pink and brown color combo, plushies, spring rewatches of to all the boys i’ve loved before films, gold jewelry, thoughts of julian santos, living like steph bohrer, deer and puppies, finding the beauty in people, bagels at least once a week, old romcoms, cd collections, bows bows bows, dreams of paris and new york and london, beagracie, baking sweet treats, heart bursting with love
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”
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
SLEEPY DAYS ꪆৎ CS55
blurb . requested . fluff and comfort
He runs his hands along the sheets, the material pulls through his knuckles as his fingers drag up the pillows in hopes of running through your soft hair.
The confusion comes easily when he doesn’t feel you in bed next to him, the frown comes even easier, as he rubs his eyes, all blurry and mussed up from sleep, and sees your back straight, sitting half awake on the edge of the bed looking just about ready to get up and presumably shower.
He whimpers, pushing his body across the large bed to your side and caging your waist in his strong albeit tired arms.
You jump, the feeling of cold hands squeezing you shocks you a bit and wakes you up more.
“Why are you awake?” He rumbles, groggy and disconcerted, nosing at your nightgown still laying down.
Your fingers squeeze his on your waist, threading one hand through his fingers and stretching the other behind your back to run through his hair and neck, it’s slightly uncomfortable, but it brings great comfort to have him near you in the mornings again.
“I have pilates to get too.”
He squeezes your hand and presses a kiss to your tailbone, voice dropping an octave lower.
“But don’t you wanna sleep with me? I’ve missed you so much mi vida, it was torture waking up and not being with you in the mornings, you just can’t leave me.” He whines a little towards the end and you muffle a laugh, gasping when he pinches you playfully.
“Please dolcezza, you’re all I need, and i’m afraid pilates doesn’t need you just as much I need you.”
His hold on you gets tighter if possible, practically cocooning you in him, you know that he’d bury you in him and keep you there forever if he could.
You smile kissing his knuckles mumbling an okay, squealing as he pulls you up half asleep and rolls you into him, forging yourself into practically one singular entity.
He smears kisses over your face, all sticky with sleep and sweetness, grinning at the peals of soft laughter that he pulls out of you.
“Además, puedo ayudarte con un tipo de pilates mucho más divertido más adelante.”
Oh he’s sure pilates doesn’t need you nearly as much as him.
⋆⭒˚.⋆
love note , this was super fun to do !! thank you so much for the request angel, i hope you loved it <33
bisous 𖤓 carlos sainz 𝒙 leclerc!reader.
❨ summary. all he wanted was a kiss, it’s not his fault the paparazzi caught it, and it’s totally coincidental that your brother’s going to kill him. ❩
❨ faceclaim. @/claudiamariewalsh on instagram <3 ❩
❨ notes. i had sm fun doing this! though it did exceed the limit i was looking at, becoming a bit long, but i do wanna do a part two to this because imo the charles x carlos beef is gonna be really funny!! i hope you enjoy xx ❩
⋆⭒˚.⋆ instagram.
liked by charles_leclerc and 30,987 others.
yourinstagram. wined and dined xo
view all 11,345 comments.
username when god has favourites 😩
username holy shit
charles_leclerc mon poupette! tellement jolie.
yourusername je t’aime cha xx
username my brother is a dick compared to charles lmao
arthur_leclerc bet you were smelly.
yourusername bet you came out of a gutter.
username now that’s more like my brother
username not carlos creeping in the likes 👀
username girl bffr he’s like 6 years older than her??
username so lol #zaddy
username don’t ever say ‘zaddy again’.
landonorris wined, dined and sixty-nined.
charles_leclerc get out.
yourusername ew you weirdo
landonorris so it’s funny when kevin in the office says it??
yourusername he has rizz, unlike you.
maxverstappen1 real.
landonorris i hate you.
francisca.cgomes so stunning my girl 😻
yourusername love u forever keeks <33
username someone look at me like she does in the third pic 😭
carlossainz55 espléndida
yourusername 🤭❤️
charles_leclerc ???
arthur_leclerc ???
landonorris ???
username lando what??
landonorris felt a bit left out there 🤷♂️
⋆⭒˚.⋆ twitter.
⋆⭒˚.⋆ instagram.
carlossainz55 added to their stories.
seen by yourusername and 800,567 others.
yourusername replied to this story.
⤷ mon coeur 🫶🏼
⤷ je t’aime tellement !!
landonorris replied to this story.
⤷ did you wine her and dine her??
⤷ ;) ;)
charles_leclerc replied to this story.
⤷ i bought yn a ring so similar for her 21st!
⤷ what a small world eh mate?
⋆⭒˚.⋆ text messages between yn and charles.
⋆⭒˚.⋆ text messages between yn and carlos.
⋆⭒˚.⋆ instagram.
liked by carlossainz55 and 47,222 others.
yourinstagram sunny days ☀️
view all 24,432 comments.
username SOFT LAUNCH I REPEAT SOFT LAUNCH !!
username carlos crying in the likes lol
username someone check on big bro charlie 😭
charles_leclerc poupette???
charles_leclerc que se passe-t-il?? ( what’s going on? )
charles_leclerc you didn’t say BOYS were gonna be on this trip!!
yourusername is my hair not pretty?
yourusername you haven’t complimented it yet?
yourusername it’s healthier and you haven’t noticed :((
francisca.cgomes you should be ashamed charles_leclerc
pierregasly absolutely sick of you charles !!
landonorris even i noticed her stunning hair! it’s smoother!
maxverstappen1 disgusting behaviour
charles_leclerc ??? no ??
yourusername oh?? it’s not healthier? i’m not pretty anymore?
francisc.cgomes HOW DARE YOU charles_leclerc
charles_leclerc NON poupette desolee
yourusername don’t talk to me.
username me when i dream
gigihadid 😻😻
arthur_leclerc stunning hair btw
yourusername love u tur
username he’s being nice??
arthur_leclerc too bad it doesn’t help the ugly face lol
username nvm
charles_leclerc pick up the phone poupette
charles_leclerc you’re very pretty !! you’re hair is so shiny !!
charles_leclerc we’ll go shopping soon poupette 💌
yourusername okay charlie love u 🥰
arthur_leclerc i want a new ps5
charles_leclerc get it yourself.
carlossainz55 hermosa
username poor boy
username mans desperate fr
username not when she’s soft launching mate 😭😭
carlossainz55 added to their stories.
seen by charles_leclerc and 1,678,432 others.
yourusername replied to this story.
⤷ photographer of the year !
⤷ very much thought you were gonna use the pic of me falling.
⤷ love u
charles_leclerc replied to this story.
⤷ girls’ hair get better every day.
⤷ looks oddly similar too tbh
⤷ where’d you say you were vacationing again mate?
charles_leclerc can no longer view your stories
landonorris replied to this story.
⤷ shiny hair 👀
⋆⭒˚.⋆ twitter.
⋆⭒˚.⋆ text messages between yn and kika.
⋆⭒˚.⋆ twitter.
⋆⭒˚.⋆ texts between yn and charles, and charles and carlos.
yourusername added to their stories.
seen by carlossainz55 and 986,444 others.
charles_leclerc replied to your story.
⤷ poupette you’ve never done anything wrong in your life.
⤷ i’m not mad, call me please
⤷ desolee bebe
⤷ i have that new chanel you wanted ❤️
landonorris replied to your story.
⤷ so unserious lmao
pierregasly replied to your story.
⤷ charles is going to buy the entire mall y/n !!
⤷ tell him you’re not mad at him
⤷ DONT LISTEN TO KIKA
francisca.cgomes replied to your story.
⤷ tell pierre to piss off
⤷ let charles buy you what he wants.
⤷ omg tell him you want a ferrari !!
⤷ IN PINK !!
carlossainz55 replied to your story.
⤷ mi vida your brothers texting me again
⤷ it’s very weird he’s apologising now??
⤷ he’s asking me if you want a pink ferrari??
⤷ bebita you should have told me you want a pink ferrari??
⤷ with a matching bag okay my love 🩷
arthur_leclerc replied to your story.
⤷ TELL CHARLES YOU WANT A PS5
⤷ LO TOLD ME TO FUCK OFF
⤷ STOP TELLING ON ME Y/N
lorenzotl replied to your story.
⤷ i’m very happy for you mon chou ❤️
⤷ ignore arthur he doesn’t need a new ps5
⤷ he makes his own money.
⋆⭒˚.⋆ instagram.
carlossainz55 added to their stories.
seen by charles_leclerc and 1,410,333 others.
charles leclerc replied to your story.
⤷ who do you think you are buying MY sister a pink ferrari
⤷ you be with her, okay. you date her, okay. but buying her things?
⤷ and a matching bag???
⤷ you piece of shit.
⤷ when i said we were brothers i didn’t mean this!
yourusername replied to your story.
⤷ ma vie 💌
⤷ je t’aime tellement <3
arthur_leclerc replied to your story.
⤷ y/n wants a ps5!!
⤷ brother 😃😃
francisca.cgomes replied to your story.
⤷ you picked up the correct bag for her!!
⤷ she also likes chanel and hermès !!
⤷ you’ll be outdoing charles in no time !!
⋆⭒˚.⋆ twitter.
⋆⭒˚.⋆
❨ disclaimer. i do not own any of the images above, all were found on pinterest, this is purely for fun and nothing is based on real life ❩
summary: in which Carlos and Y/N is baby sitting Penelope and Leo, suddenly Carlos calls his wife pretty which makes her all cute and giddy <3
pairings: Carlos Sainz x Pregnant Wife!Reader
warnings: none, pure fluff like fr
word count: 1,439
a/n: we r so close to 900 aaaa ily allllll u deserve to be fed with thisss also should i make a carlos sainz x pregnant wife reader series!?!!? also penelope's nickname as we all know is "p" <33
[re edited version, added: taglist, taglist form, and feedback form]
masterlist
Being pregnant was two things for you, awesome and horrific.
Cause who the fuck told you that it would be this horrendous? And a whole rollecoaster ride. First trimester was pure hell, that's what you would yap and yap all night and day long to your husband. What's great about him is he would always say "Ay mi amor you know if I could just take the pregnancy for you, I would." He'd chuckle, which made you a laughing mess.
Meanwhile, second trimester was a more chill, God how you thanked everyone who told you that. Now you were 6 months in, so close, so close Y/N. You'd repeat to yourself.
Boy were you thankful to have a husband like Carlos cause honestly your whole pregnancy consists of being mean to him, pouting like a kid, and being his big baby.
Like one night, the cold air brushed against your whole body making you shiver. A loud whine and groan escapes your mouth, eyebrows furrowing and mouth with a full on pout as you open your eyes seeing your husband take all of the duvet in. Not even leaving space for his beautiful pregnant wife!?!
You didn't say you anything, you just sat there pouting like a kid with your arms crossed while you stared at him. Carlos has a strong feeling and urge to suddenly wake up which he never really gets especially at 3am but boy did he had the feeling. He opens his eyes lazily, eyebrows furrowing like yours as he sees you pouting and glaring at him.
He groans. "mami?" he says in his groggy but still hot voice.
You didn't even answer him, you just pouted and gave him a playful but still slightly rough smack on his shoulder as you turn around to face the wall.
A chuckle comes out of Carlos's mouth, he loved his wife. He really did, even if it was one of these times. He smiles happily still sleepy as he wraps the duvet around your body while his hands gently pulled you in closer to him. He wraps his arms around your belly, gently rubbing it knowing that finally his beautiful wife is warm and happy as he mumbles words.
"You saying something?!" you snap, still with a pout on your face but that soon melted away feeling your husband's warm touch but most especially the duvet of course.
"That i love you." He utters, pressing kisses against your neck.
You smiles happily, putting your hands on top of your husband's which was still on your baby bump. "I love you too." you mumble as you drift off to sleep.
Few weeks later, you get a sudden text from Max and Charles asking if you could babysit P and Leo. You didn't hesitate to say yes, you loved the two of them, you and Carlos have been babysitting them for quite a while since Charles and Max always had these "best friend" times together. You beg to disagree, you were always team lestappen.
What you didn't expect is too see the two kids, yes Leo is considered a kid cause he is a freaking kid even if he's a dog and we love him. Anyways, you thought Max and Charles would be there to accompany them inside but instead when you opened the front door you saw P smiling happily like the little girl she is with her pink backpack and Leo wagging his tail and his tongue out.
"HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII" P exclaims happily with a bright smile as she opens her arms.
Your jaw dropped but you changed it to a smile, seeing the two of them. "Hiiii!" You match P's energy as you lean down to pick her up in your arms and Leo in the other.
P smiles happily seeing you as she wraps her arms around you and gives you kisses all over your cheek which she always does and so does Leo. You giggle, feeling the warmth of the kisses of the two kids, small licks of Leo on your left and P's kisses on your right.
"Maxie and Uncle Charlie went out again, maybe they're on a date." P giggles that was followed by a huff from Leo, the pup sure did agree to his older sister.
"I swear, your dads have more dates than me and your uncle Carlos." You mutter, making P laugh as you close the front door. Once you closed the door, Carlos came right downstairs with a smile on his face.
"If it isn't my two favorite kids." He chuckles, approaching you guys closer as he quickly gives P a peck on her cheek and eventually taking Leo from your arms.
You smile, watching Leo lick Carlos all over his face. Your head turns to P as you smile at her, gently putting her down to the couch while she lays down comfortably, inhaling the fresh air and the coldness of your house that she loved.
While P laid down comfortably on the couch and Leo and Carlos are having a sweet moment, you head over to the fridge to grab the puppuccino you saved just for Leo.
"Didn't Charles say no more puppuccinos for Leo mi amor?" Carlos chuckles, seeing you with the small cup on your hand.
"Yeah but this little cutie deserves to be spoiled." You giggle, kissing Leo on his head as you hand Carlos the puppuccino to give to Leo. "And you pretty girl." You smile, sitting next to P on the couch. "i made you cookies."
Those cookies lasted not even five minutes for P, she really loves your baking especially your cookies. As the hours passed, all four of you just stayed and chilled on the couch while watching tv. P was nestled in your lap, her head laying down against your baby bump that she loved caressing.
"You're big." She giggles, giving pecks on your baby bump as she eventually looks up at you with those cute little eyes of her.
"Yea, i sure am." You laugh, sighing softly. Lately, you've just felt so soft-hearted, you don't know why. You've been clingy to Carlos and he's absolutely into it. You really don't know but it's definitely a cute look on you.
You didn't even notice Carlos's soft gaze on you. He was staring at you like a teenager in love as he caresses Leo with his hands who was now asleep. Carlos was so happy to have you especially when you got pregnant. He loves and adores you so much that in most days you don't even notice his loving stares.
"You look pretty." He smiles softly, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek as he looks at you and that cute little sundress of yours.
It was like your world stopped and your heart melted so much. It's not that Carlos doesn't say you look pretty, in fact he does say it everyday but something was just different today. You felt the loving presence of your husband and his love for you.
You pout cutely, eyelashes fluttering as you smile at him. "What did you say?" You ask him softly, knowing damn you well you heard him but you wanted to hear that word again.
"I said you look pretty mi amor." He smiles, scooting closer next to you, his other arm wrapping around your shoulder as he places a soft kiss on your cheek.
You couldn't help but smile and giggle, you were like a little girl getting a doll. "He said i look pretty!" You say to P with pure happiness and joy.
"You are pretty!" She giggles, moving to your side to give you a kiss on your other cheek.
Carlos smiles at the beautiful sight but he wonders why that was your reaction even if he always said it everyday. "I always say that to you everyday mi amor." He says with a confused look but still with a smile on his mouth.
You smile, leaning your head on his shoulder. "I know you do, it's just it feels different now and i don't know i just love you so much that i feel so happy and giddy even if all you said was that i looked pretty."
He smiles, pressing a kiss on your forehead. "I love you more."
After being together for so long you still loved your husband and his cute but small actions that gave you butterflies even if it was just a simple "you look pretty." Still, you couldn't contain your excitement. "He said i look pretty!!" You squeal once again to P who was matching your energy.
@pear-1206 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @euphoricchills @charlesleclerx @inchident-jpg @amethyst-bitch @dr4g0ngirl @likedbygaslyy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @httpstoyosi @evermore55 @bibissparkles @lokideservesahug @darleneslane @shelbyteller @spookystitchery @bearryyy @justtprachisblog @alliwantisadonut @papaya-twinks @casperlikej @funnelcakeee @xoscar03 @snapeeballsack @silverxxs-world @thearchieves @destinyg237 @juliee4everial @thebasicbiatch @67-angelofthelordme-67 @tallrock35 @sya-skies @hockeyboysarehot @iloveyou3000morgan @sugaspawsmari @aymfsts @khaylin27 @be-your-coffee-pot @yettobedetermined7 @dhanihamidi @formula1simp @bokutos-babyowl @peachiicherries @youdontknowmeshh @nyramylove @annispamz @formulaal @scout-likes-sharks @valentine @oliviah-25
[remaining taglist for those who weren't tagged bc of the limit]
taglist form
feedback form
♯ 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."