bon allez, les sexualities headcanons parce que je suis en train d'y penser (aka: bulletpoints of several internalized homophobia/repressed sexualities/lack of awareness of sexualities other than gay or straight)
John: Bi, préférence majeure pour les femmes. J'ai hésité à le mettre hétéro, puis j'ai réalisé que c'était plus marrant s'il aimait les filles et les garçons et avait une crise existentielle à ce sujet dans son adolescence, jusqu'à ce qu'il se dise qu'il est hétéro car il préfère les meufs. Puis un jour il discute de ça avec Éléna qui lui apprend que la bisexualité existe
Éléna: Pan queen. Just look at her. Elle a séduit homme et femme et a été séduite par homme et femme... même si au final elle avait déjà choisi avec qui elle passerait sa vie
Mary: Hétéro, mais genre. cool avec l'idée de se taper une meuf. Genre sexuellement elle est juuuuste un peu bi, et a pu avoir des aventures avec des filles qu'elle trouvait particulièrement canons. Ado elle n'a eu aucune hésitation à expérimenter et c'est comme ça qu'elle se connait si bien
Steve: Hétéro Ace. Je peux pas expliquer, he just gives off ace energy
Valur: Aro Bi. J'ai besoin d'au moins un aro dans le lot, et Valur has the vibe
Jane: Bi, même si elle a moins expérimenté que Mary
John Sr.: Bi, ses deux seules relations c'est un secret boyfriend ado, puis Jane
Claudine: Greyromantique Bisexuelle. Ça l'a 100% aidée à se convaincre encore plus qu'elle était faite pour servir le mal; une femme qui a envie de relations sexuelles sans pour autant être amoureuse, c'est au mieux une pute, au pire un démon ; cqfd, elle est mauvaise
Mique: Pan Greyromantique Greysexuel. Est-ce parce que mes favs se doivent d'avoir un peu de A? oui. Est-ce parce que je peux imaginer Mique n'ayant jamais ressenti l'Amour dû au fait qu'il n'a jamais eu la possibilité d'être suffisamment proche de quelqu'un à cause de Cécil? Aussi
Cécil: Pan. Rien à dire je trouve juste qu'il mérite d'avoir eu un peu de toxic yaoi à un point de sa vie, mais clairement pour qu'il soit le seul avec un gosse il doit avoir eu une meuf un jour (<- dit comme si j'avais pas déjà toute une histoire autour de lui et la mère de Mique)
Doug: Bi; parce que Perséphone, obviously, mais aussi whatever the fuck he has with Klaus
Klaus: Gay. Look me in the eyes. Tu peux pas me dire qu'il n'est pas l'image de l'internalized homophobia. Le nombre de fois qu'il doit préciser qu'un truc n'est pas gay. L'attitude tryhard pour être un vrai mec et l'arc d'accepter son pouvoir (aussi toxic masculinity ça. ~métaphores~). Le fait que son histoire d'amour avec une femme c'est parce qu'il la séduit pour obtenir l'accès à des informations confidentielles. Le fait qu'il pense pas du tout à elle après qu'ils soient séparés fin saison 3, et qu'il n'y a aucune réunion des deux en saison 5. Aussi whatever the fuck he has with Doug
Miss Moore: Lesbienne. ok alors ça paraît pas immédiatement logique car elle était à fond sur Klaus, MAIS! Quoi de plus gay que de montrer une attirance envers le mec clairement inaccessible? Elle s'en était jamais rendue compte, mais après que ce soit fini avec Klaus elle pourra le réaliser
Mégane: Hétéro. Rien à dire, hormis que c'est dommage pour celles qui n'auront jamais aucune chance avec elle
Jennifer: Bi, préférence pour les hommes. En soit elle était consciente qu'elle aimait bien les filles aussi, et a même tenté une fois ou deux. Cependant ça n'a jamais duré longtemps car elle avait peur d'être dans une relation avec une fille. Comme elle préfère les mecs elle a pu ignorer tout ça, mais après le fiasco John et Jean Micheng, elle avait plus trop envie d'être en couple, surtout avec des mecs. Donc elle s'est retrouvée à retenter des petits coups d'un soir avec des filles. Au final, elle évitera d'être en couple, mais sera nettement plus confortable avec sa sexualité (she gets all the sex friends. all of them.)
Burt: Gay. No comment
Stan: Bi, préférence pour les hommes. S'était convaincu qu'il était straight parce qu'il aimait bien les femmes (comme ça il a pas eu besoin de trop penser qu'il aimait les mecs aussi). Puis Burt happens
Karin: Aroace. He lives for the adrenaline and the rush, nothing else matters
Anne-So (Kyle): Trans Pan Poly. Ça c'est juste canon. Elle était intéressée par Mégane ET The Lord. Clairement elle espérait un trouple, but alas
The Lord: Bi. Just look at him. He kissed boys. You know it.
Hoodwink: Bi; diversity wins! Your husband cheated on you with women AND men! Somehow il faisait des commentaires homophobes quand-même. Puis il s'est retrouvé à Villain City et a dit un truc. "Mec je t'ai vu avec Roger hier". Ça l'a calmé. Les menaces de se faire tabasser et les critiques ont aidé quand-même.
Mac Kormack: Pan Greyromantique Greysexuel. Comment tu expliques qu'il a jamais eu l'air d'avoir des relations romantiques ou sexuelles alors qu'il a plusieurs siècles? That's right. aro/ace spectrum.
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snowballs - cl16
pairing: charles leclerc x nanny!reader (fem)
summary: in which you bake cookies with charles and his daughter but still end up on your knees
warnings: some cute fluff?, 18+, slight smut, oral (m-receiving), bad french (please correct me!!! i don't speak french), not proofread
word count: 1,342
author's note: merry christmas eve (ya filthy animals) lmaooo. also loling at the title. leaving this here for y'all. single dad Charles has me in a complete chokehold. this is not a part 2, just a little Christmas themed drabble if you wanna call it that. if you didn’t read THIS yet, then go do it.
french edits made by @dannyramirezwife !!! (my angel)
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
THE AIR WAS filled with the sweet scent of pine and cinnamon, instantly putting you in a festive mood as soon as you arrived today. Soft, twinkling lights adorn the walls and windows, casting a warm and inviting glow throughout the space. Throughout the apartment, the sound of classic Christmas tunes plays softly in the background.
The kitchen, where all three of you stood, was pure chaos. Bowls varying sizes are strewn across the countertops, each bearing the remnants of different stages of the baking process. A mixing bowl, its sides smeared with sticky remnants of cookie dough, sits next to a flour-dusted measuring cup. Multiple trays of already baked cookies, sat cooling atop the stove. It truly was a mess.
“Papa! Vous ne pouvez pas manger ça!” You can’t eat those! She exclaimed in fits of laughter. Her face was absolutely covered in ingredients. No doubt from sneaking licks of cookie dough and frosting when she thought that nobody was looking. Flour coated her hands and arms, and some had found its way to her rosy cheeks.
“Ils sont pour le Père Noël!” They’re for Santa! You agreed with her. Swatting him with one of the Christmas themed hand towels that was nearby, before returning to decorating the cookies that lay in front of you.
Charles emitted a resounding gasp, skillfully weaving of feigned anguish. His reaction unfolded with a theatrical flair; a symphony of emotion portrayed through a dramatic hand gesture that traversed the journey of his fist to his chest. It mimicked the palpable sensation of being struck, an artful display of simulated injury. “Un autre homme reçoit tout cela?” Another man gets all of these?
With an indulgent smile, you playfully orchestrate a slow, deliberate roll of your eyes in response to his theatrics. Unfazed by the charming display, you redirect your attention solely to the task at hand – meticulously adorning the remaining cookies with festive embellishments. The ambiance in the room becomes a delightful blend of shared amusement as you all work hard finishing them all.
Charles soon excused himself to his bedroom to gather a call regarding some car testing that happened earlier this week.
As you were on the verge of releasing a hearty sigh, ready to vocalize your exhaustion, your attention diverted to the drowsy four-year-old near you. Her delicate features were gently pressed against the countertop, closed in the embrace of slumber. A wave of endearment washed over you. Suppressing a giggle, you marveled at the sheer adorableness of the scene, momentarily setting aside your fatigue to savor the precious sight before you.
Tenderly, you gathered her into your arms, cradling her like a precious bundle. With each careful step echoed through the familiar path leading to her room, where the soft glow of ambient light revealed the traces of a day well spent.
Arriving at her bed, you marveled at the cherubic expression on her face. Softly, you attempted to wipe away the remnants of flour that adorned her tiny arms and face, a silent acknowledgment of the shared joy in the day’s baking escapade. Deciding that it was best to let her sleep than to wake her to bathe her now. The sheets could always be washed later. In that quiet moment, you sat on the floor beside her bed, just smiling at her. The room became a sanctuary, where the gentle act of care echoed the love woven into the fabric of the night.
Unbeknownst to you, Charles stood silently in the doorway, quietly observing the intimate scene before him. A swell of emotion gripped his heart as he beheld the tender scene – there you were, alongside his daughter, the warmth of familial connection radiating from your shared moments. In that unspoken exchange, a poignant desire filled his heart, longing for the sense of family that seemed to effortlessly bloom in your presence. His heart was full of want for you.
“Sugar crash?” His voice, soft and unexpected, caught you off guard, prompting an instinctive flinch. As you turned your head, you found Charles slowly approaching, his tall figure standing gracefully behind where you were seated. His captivating green eyes remained fixed on you, their beauty holding a silent intensity, never once wavering from your presence.
“Oui,” you softly smiled. “Je devrais aller nettoyer,” I should go clean up. You stood to your feet as Charles pressed a soft kiss to his sleeping girl and brushed her hair out of her face.
Back in the kitchen, it truly looked like a tornado had hit the room. Standing amidst the culinary chaos, you contemplated where to even begin when, suddenly, a pair of hands playfully seized your waist, diverting your attention.
“Tu me rends fou,” You drive me crazy.
His lips pressed softly into the swell of your neck, his tongue pressing against your cookie batter covered skin. “Tellement doux,” So sweet.
Your stomach clenched with butterflies as he spun you around, holding you close to him. Slowly, he brings his index finger to the corner of your mouth, wiping a speck of dough off you and bringing it to your lips.
He doesn’t even need to tell you before your opening your mouth, wrapping your tongue around his finger to lick it off. You stare up at him in the process, witnessing the color of his eyes darken as you release his finger with a ‘pop’.
“Je te rends toujours folle?” Still drive you crazy?
You observed the Adam’s apple in his neck bobbing with a pronounced gulp. The veins in his neck stood out prominently, evidence of his teeth being clenched.
You slowly made your way to your knees, trailing your hands down his body, feeling his taut muscles through the confines of his sweatpants. You skillfully looped your fingers into his waistband, pulling them down to free his hard length. Not too far away, was some spare cookie dough on the island of the kitchen. To which, you reached one arm up and grabbed, spreading some of it onto him, a smirk graced your lips as you heard him groan.
“Mon dieu,” My God. He physically had to lean forward, hunching over you, in order to grip the kitchen counter top as soon as your tongue met him.
You moaned at the taste of him and the cookie dough.
He half-chuckled as his hips bucked further into your mouth, chasing after his pleasure. He inhaled sharply, trying to relax, but you were eager and adamant on getting him there. You were so so so eager to please him.
Your hand gripped him, collecting the spit on your fingers, spreading it all over his hot skin, while you suckled gently at his sensitive tip.
“Mmm, fuck,” He couldn’t get full words out as you sunk him deeper into your mouth, his tip scraping the walls of your throat. The burning in his stomach was rising as he watched you eagerly take every inch of him. You moaned at the taste of him, the vibrations pushing him even closer to the edge.
His face was completely flushed now as you bobbed up and down, essentially choking on him. Keeping your voice down, you pulled off of him again.
“Je te veux partout sur ma langue,” Want you all over my tongue. Your whimpery tone sent him over the edge almost instantly.
“Fuck, fuck,” he repeated. The muscles of his arms bulging as he gripped the edge of the countertop tightly. Your eyes were wet with tears, but you were satisfied as he filled your mouth. Your tongue ran over the tip once more, licking up every drop, before he took a step back from you.
You grinned lazily at him as you stood to your feet. His chest was rising and down deeply as he tried to catch his breath.
“Complètement fou,” Fucking crazy. He murmurs, pulling you in for a sweet kiss.
“Il est temps de nettoyer!” Time to clean! You clap your hands together, devious to escape his touch.
But you both know, that he won’t let you off the hook that easily.
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