Jeux Olympiques - Tumblr Posts

Léon Marchand x female reader and the use of oc.

A Léon Marchand fanfiction.

Warnings: swearing, DNI if under 18, 18+, PnV, Voyager!!, no mention of protection, lack of research of swimming, hints of dubscon. Defo not proof read enough.

It was a warm July Wednesday in Paris, and the city was buzzing with excitement as the Olympics were in full swing. Noelle, a brown-haired blue-eyed journalist known for her blunt and outgoing personality, had flown in specifically for the event. Her mission: to report on the swimming competition and interview the athletes for an Irish magazine .

As she took her seat in the Aquatic Center, her eyes immediately locked onto the French swimmer Léon, a three-time gold medalist. His blonde curly hair shimmered with droplets of water, and his chiseled body moved with grace and power as he glided through the pool. Noelle’s heart skipped a beat; she knew she had to meet this man.

After a dazzling performance, Léon emerged from the water, his muscular physique on full display. He waved to the cheering crowd, his blue eyes sparkling with joy. Noelle felt a tingle between her legs as she imagined those eyes looking at her with desire. She forced herself to focus on the race, knowing she would soon get her chance to meet Léon face-to-face.

Finally, the race concluded, and Léon emerged victorious once more. As he stood on the podium, his medals glinting in the spotlight, Noelle felt her pulse quicken. She made her way to the mixed zone, where athletes and journalists interacted post-event. Her heart raced as she anticipated the moment she would come face-to-face with Léon.

And then he was there, standing before her, his skin still glistening with beads of sweat and his breath slightly ragged from the exertion of the race. Léon was even more breathtaking up close, his body a masterpiece of athletic perfection. Noelle introduced herself, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

"Léon, it's an honor to meet you, I'm Noelle . Congratulations on your win today. I'd love to ask you a few questions if you have a moment."

Léon's bashful smile took her breath away. "Bonjour, Noelle. The pleasure is mine. I would be delighted to answer your questions." His French accent sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt a twitch between her legs.

As they began the interview, Noelle struggled to maintain her professional demeanor. Léon's charm and good looks were distracting, and she found herself imagining what it would be like to run her hands over his sculpted body. She cleared her throat, forcing her mind back to the task at hand.

"So, Léon, tell me, how does it feel to be here in Paris, competing in your home country?"

Léon's eyes lit up as he replied, "It's a dream come true, truly magical. The support from the French crowd is incredible, and it pushes me to swim even faster."

Noelle bit her lip, her mind wandering to the night ahead and the possibility of a different kind of race—one that involved exploring each other's bodies. She shook her head slightly, determined to stay focused.

"I can only imagine," she said, her tone suggestive. "The pressure must be intense. How do you unwind after a stressful race?"

Léon's eyes darkened, and a hint of a smile played on his lips. "I like to take long, hot baths and just relax. Sometimes, I go for a run along the Seine to clear my head."

Noelle pictured Léon's strong legs pumping as he ran, his swimmer's body sleek and powerful. She fought the urge to reach out and touch his arm, her nipples hardening at the thought.

The mixed zone was beginning to clear out as the last of the journalists finished their interviews. Noelle knew this could be her only chance to make a more personal connection with Léon.

"Perhaps you'd like to show me your favorite running route?" she suggested, her voice low and inviting. "I could do with some fresh air, and it would be a pleasure to see the city through the eyes of a local."

Léon's bashful smile returned, and Noelle felt a surge of triumph. "I would love to. It's a date, then. Shall we say tonight at 8? We can run along the river and perhaps grab a drink after if you'd like."

Noelle’s heart pounded as she realized she was about to embark on a private adventure with the man of her dreams. "I wouldn't miss it for the world," she replied, her tone leaving no doubt as to her eagerness.

As they exchanged contact details, their fingers brushed, sending an electric current through Noelle’s body. Léon's eyes flicked to her lips, and she knew he was imagining kissing her as much as she was. The interview concluded, and they parted ways, both eager for the night ahead.

Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange,Noelle made her way to the meeting point. Léon was already there, a vision in casual attire, his blonde curls shining in the golden hour light.

"You look beautiful," he said, his voice husky as he took in her form-fitting yoga pants and tank top.

Noelle felt a rush of desire as his intense gaze swept over her. "You don't look so bad yourself," she replied, a playful smile on her face.

They set off, running side by side along the Seine. Noelle matched her pace to Léon's, their arms occasionally brushing as they ran. The city lights twinkled in the darkness, providing a romantic backdrop to their energetic endeavor. As they ran, Léon pointed out landmarks and shared stories of his childhood in Paris. Noelle listened, enchanted, enjoying the private tour and the intimate insight into Léon's life.

As they reached a particularly picturesque spot, Léon slowed to a stop, and Noelle followed suit. They were alone on the riverbank, the city's hustle and bustle feeling miles away. Léon turned to face her, his eyes burning with desire.

"Noelle, I've been wanting to do this all night," he said, stepping closer and cupping her face in his hands.

Noelle’s heart hammered in her chest as she leaned into his touch, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss. Léon tasted of mint and desire, and Noelle felt herself melting into him. Their tongues danced, and Noelle ‘s hands roamed over his strong shoulders and back, savoring the feel of his powerful body.

Breaking the kiss, Léon nibbled along Noelle’s jawline, planting kisses down her neck. Noelle tilted her head back, moaning softly as he found a particularly sensitive spot. Léon's hands moved to the curve of her hips, pulling her against him so she could feel his hardening dick against her belly.

"I want you, Noelle ," he whispered, his voice hoarse with need. "Let's find a more comfortable place to continue this."

Noelle nodded, breathless, as Léon took her hand and led her through the darkness to a secluded spot he knew of—a quiet park bench hidden among the trees. He gently pushed her against the back of the bench, his lips crushing hers as he kicked off his shoes. Noelle felt his hands sliding under her top, caressing her soft skin, and moaned into his mouth as his thumbs grazed the underside of her full breasts.

With a swift motion, Léon lifted her top over her head, breaking away from the kiss to admire her naked breasts. He lowered his mouth to her nipples, taking one, then the other into his warm mouth, teasing them with his tongue until they peaked into hardness. She arched her back, encouraging him to take more, her hands threading through his curls.

As Léon continued his sensual assault on her breasts, his hand slipped between her thighs, finding the wet center of her desire. He rubbed her clit in slow circles, his fingers sliding easily through her slickness. Her gasps continue , her hips bucking as pleasure shot through her.

"You like that, chérie?" Léon murmured, his breath hot against her ear.

"Oui, Léon, don't stop," Noelle pleaded, her head falling back as she surrendered to the ecstasy washing over her.

Léon chuckled, the vibrations buzzing through Noelle sensitive nipple, which he was still sucking and nipping at. His fingers worked their magic, slipping inside her tight channel, thrusting slowly as he brought her closer to the edge. Noelle’s body trembled, and she cried out, her orgasm crashing over her in waves of bliss.

As her contractions slowed, Léon straightened, pressing his body against hers and capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss. Noelle could taste herself on his lips, and it sent another pulse of desire through her. She wanted him inside her, filling her completely.

"I need you, Léon," she whispered against his lips. "Please, fuck me."

Léon growled, the primal sound sending a shiver down Noelle’s spine. He lifted her, positioning her against the bench, her ass on the edge, her legs wrapped around his waist. With one smooth thrust, he slid inside her, filling her completely.

Noelle moaned, her head falling back as she enjoyed the sensation of being stretched and filled. Léon's hands gripped her hips, guiding her as he began to move, his strokes deep and purposeful. Their bodies moved in unison, the bench creaking in rhythm with their passion.

"You feel so good, Noelle ," Léon groaned, his eyes locked on hers, glittering with intense desire. "Your pussy was made for my cock."

Noelle’s walls clenched around him at his words, and she met his thrusts with her own, eager for more. "Fuck me harder, Léon," she demanded, her nails digging into his shoulders. "I want all of you."

Léon growled again, his pace quickening as he gave her what she craved. The bench rattled with the force of their passion, the slapping of their bodies filling the night air. Noelle cried out with each powerful thrust, her breasts bouncing, her head thrown back in abandon.

Léon's fingers dug into her hips as he pistoned into her, his balls slapping against her ass with each fierce thrust. Noelle felt her core tightening again, her second orgasm building as Léon's cock hit all the right spots.

"I'm close, Léon, so close," she panted, her legs tightening around him.

Léon grunted, his eyes rolling back as he teetered on the edge. With a few more powerful strokes, he sent Noelle over the brink. Her walls clamped down on him as she cried out, her body shaking with the force of her release. Léon followed, his breath catching as he spilled himself deep inside her, their juices mingling in a heated rush.

Spent, they rested, their chests heaving as they caught their breath. Léon gently extracted himself from her, his arms supporting her as they straightened. Noelle felt his cum leaking from her well-fucked pussy, a testament to their passionate encounter.

Léon pulled her into his arms, and she snuggled against him, her head on his chest. They remained like that for several moments, enjoying the afterglow of their intense coupling.

"I should probably get going," Noelle said reluctantly, knowing the night had to end eventually. "I have an early start tomorrow."

Léon nodded, his hands gently caressing her back. "I understand. But perhaps we could arrange another... meeting? There's so much more of Paris I'd love to show you."

Noelle smiled, kissing him softly. "I'd like that, Léon. Paris is even more magical than I imagined, and I think a large part of that is you."

They parted ways, their clandestine tryst a secret they would both treasure. As she made her way back to her hotel, she knew this trip to Paris would be unforgettable, and it wasn't just because of the Olympics. Léon had shown her a whole new side to the City of Love.

End.

A Léon Marchand Fanfiction//

Strokes of Faith

Pairing: Léon Marchand x !female reader, Léon Marchand x original female character

Warnings: sexual content, unrelated storylines, uneducated in swimming practice nor routine, medical knowledge is not accredited, friends to lovers, drinking, mental health, injury. (Please let me know if I have forgotten any)

Dedication: to tumblr accounts for liking my first fic

---

Olivia’s heart raced as she approached the practice pool. The early morning sun had just begun to rise, casting a soft glow over the water. She loved these early sessions, not just for the tranquility but for the chance to see Léon at his best. He was already in the water, slicing through it with a grace that still amazed her every time.

“Morning, Olivia!” Coach Bob greeted her with his usual energy. “Ready to get to work?”

“Absolutely,” she replied, setting down her bag of medical supplies. She had volunteered to help Coach Bob with Léon’s training, bringing her nursing skills to the poolside.

Léon emerged from the water, his powerful strokes coming to a smooth halt. He pushed his goggles up onto his forehead, his wet hair clinging to his face. “Morning, Olivia,” he said with a warm smile.

“Morning, Léon. You look like you’re ready to conquer the world,” she teased, handing him a towel.

Léon laughed, a deep, infectious sound that always made her smile. “Just trying to keep up with the best coach and the best medical assistant,” he said, nodding towards Bob and Olivia.

As they settled into the session, Léon pushed himself hard, the strain visible on his face. Olivia watched closely, ready to step in if needed. It wasn’t long before Léon’s muscles began to show signs of fatigue.

“Take a break, Léon,” Bob called out. “Olivia, why don’t you give him a quick check?”

Olivia moved to Léon’s side, her hands gentle but firm as she assessed his condition. She checked his heart rate and pulse, her touch reassuring and professional. “Your heart rate is a bit high, but nothing too concerning,” she said. “Let’s focus on recovery.”

Léon nodded, grateful for her care. He lay down on a bench, and Olivia began to massage his tired muscles, starting with his shoulders and neck. Léon closed his eyes, the tension in his body slowly easing under her skilled hands.

“Feels amazing,” he murmured, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

“Good,” Olivia replied, her voice soft. “You work so hard; you deserve a little pampering.”

As she worked, Léon couldn’t resist teasing her. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on her neck, making her jump slightly. “Léon!” she exclaimed, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

“What? Just showing my gratitude,” he said with a playful grin.

Olivia shook her head, trying to maintain her professional demeanor. “You’re incorrigible.”

Léon’s grin widened, and he nipped playfully at her hip, making her laugh. “Consider it a bonus for your hard work.”

Their banter continued as Olivia finished the massage, the light-hearted teasing adding a personal touch to the routine. By the time they were done, Léon felt rejuvenated, ready to face the rest of the day.

---

The days passed quickly, and soon it was time for the World Championships in London. The entire team flew out, the excitement palpable. They worked tirelessly to get Léon in top shape, balancing intense training with moments of exploration in the city.

One afternoon, Léon and Olivia found themselves wandering through the streets of London, taking in the sights. They visited landmarks, tried local food, and laughed together, the bond between them growing stronger with each shared experience.

Back at the practice pool, the pressure was on. Léon was preparing for the final 200 butterfly, and Bob was pushing him hard. After a particularly grueling session, Léon collapsed onto a bench, his body aching from the effort.

Olivia was there in an instant, her hands soothing his sore muscles. “You did amazing,” she said, her voice full of pride.

“Thanks, Olivia,” Léon replied, his eyes closing as he relaxed under her touch. “I couldn’t do it without you.”

As she massaged his shoulders, Léon shared his thoughts on the intense training. “It’s tough, but it’s worth it. I just keep thinking about the finish line.”

“You’re going to do great,” Olivia assured him. “Just remember to take care of yourself.”

Léon opened his eyes and looked up at her, a smile playing on his lips. “I’ve got you to help with that, don’t I?”

Olivia laughed softly, her heart warmed by his words. “Always.”

---

The night before the final event, the team gathered to celebrate Léon’s two wins. The atmosphere was electric, the joy and excitement palpable. After the celebrations, Léon and Olivia decided to explore London’s nightlife.

They found a vibrant nightclub, the music loud and the energy high. Léon leaned in close to Olivia, his breath warm against her ear. “I miss being in Europe for the alcohol limit,” he teased, making her laugh.

They danced together, the rhythm of the music matching the pounding of their hearts. The connection between them was undeniable, and as the night wore on, the intensity of their feelings grew.

Léon pulled Olivia closer, their bodies moving in sync. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. The world around them faded away as they poured all their emotions into that fiery embrace.

Olivia responded eagerly, her arms wrapping around his neck as they lost themselves in the moment. The kiss was a release of all the passion and tension that had been building between them, a testament to the deep bond they shared.

---

The next morning, the team prepared for the long flight home to Arizona. Léon and Olivia sat together on the plane, their conversation flowing easily as they talked about everything from their recent experiences to their hopes for the future.

As the hours passed, Léon’s exhaustion caught up with him, and he fell asleep, his head resting on Olivia’s shoulder. She smiled softly, her heart full of affection as she watched him sleep.

Back at Arizona State University, the new year was approaching, and the student union had planned a series of house parties to celebrate. Léon and Olivia joined in the festivities, enjoying the lively atmosphere and the chance to unwind.

As the clock struck midnight, Olivia pulled Léon into a kiss, her heart racing with excitement. They spent the rest of the night dancing and celebrating, their connection growing even stronger.

---

In the weeks that followed, finals loomed, and the pressure of exams took its toll. Léon pushed himself hard, both in the pool and in his studies, but it wasn’t long before he caught a virus, forcing him to take time away from training.

Olivia took immediate action, using her nursing skills to care for him. She checked his vitals, administered medication, and made sure he got plenty of rest. Léon was grateful for her care, his admiration for her growing with each passing day.

As summer approached, the dorms closed, and Bob offered to let Léon and Olivia stay with him. They settled into a routine, traveling to the pool each day and enjoying their time together. Breakfasts became a shared ritual, a time to connect and prepare for the day ahead.

One evening, Léon suggested they take a day off and drive to Gilbert. They enjoyed a night out, with drinks and dinner, savoring the break from their usual routine. On the way home, Léon stole kisses from Olivia, his playful side shining through.

They returned to Bob’s house, feeling relaxed and happy. After getting ready for bed, Olivia realized she had left her phone charger in Léon’s room. She went to retrieve it, only to find Léon in the shower. Her heart raced as she decided to join him, the warmth of the water and their closeness creating an intimate moment.

They held each other under the stream, their connection deepening as they shared tender kisses. The evening ended with them cuddling in bed, their hearts full of affection and contentment.

---

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over Léon’s bedroom. Bob knocked lightly on the door, but when there was no response, he peeked inside. Seeing Léon and Olivia curled up together, peacefully asleep, he smiled and quietly closed the door, leaving them to their rest.

Later, as the aroma of breakfast filled the house, Léon and Olivia stirred. They stretched and smiled at each other, their bond stronger than ever. They joined Bob in the kitchen, ready to face the day with renewed energy.

---

The trio traveled to the pool for another intense training session. Léon pushed himself to the limit, his exhaustion evident by the end. Olivia was there, as always, to help him recover. She checked his heart rate and pulse, her touch gentle and reassuring.

As she massaged his muscles and stretched his neck and shoulders, Léon couldn’t resist stealing kisses on her neck and nipping playfully at her hips. Olivia teased him back, their banter lightening the mood.

With Olivia’s care, Léon felt his strength returning. They packed up their things and headed back to the house, their camaraderie and affection evident in every interaction.

---

Back at the house, Léon and Olivia settled into a cozy routine, enjoying their time together. They cuddled on the couch, watching movies and talking about their plans for the future. The bond between them grew stronger with each passing day, a testament to the love and support they shared.

As the summer continued, Léon and Olivia faced each challenge together, their connection deepening with every shared experience. The season was filled with moments of hard work, relaxation, and growing affection, creating memories that would last a lifetime.

In the quiet moments between training and daily life, Léon and Olivia found solace in each other’s arms, their love a constant source of strength and comfort. The summer was a time of growth and transformation, bringing them closer than ever.

Ask Box is Open!

(Check latest post! 16/9/2024)Hello My lovelies,

Officially happy to announce that my ask box is open, would be comfortable with Léon Marchand, However, i wouldn't mind writing for F1.

Flicker of splashes

✧✧✧ ─ Léon Marchand X Female!Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, No previous swimming knowledge!, Heated exchanges, Unrealistic time frame and settings. (let me know if i missed any x)

In the early morning light, the water of the Olympic-sized swimming pool at Arizona State University shimmered like a vast, still lake. The quiet was occasionally broken by the soft splash of a flipper or the gasp of an overeager swimmer. At the far end, a young man named Leon Marchand emerged from the locker room, his eyes scanning the area. His muscular frame was a testament to countless hours spent slicing through the water, and his focus was unyielding as he approached the starting block. Hailing from France, Leon was a new addition to the ASU swim team, known for his fierce determination and unmatched skill in the butterfly stroke.

Leon's hair was slicked back, revealing sharp features that mirrored the intensity in his gaze. He wore the standard-issue swimsuit of the ASU Sun Devils, a bold combination of maroon and gold that made him stand out against the stark blue of the pool. His teammates had already started their warm-up laps, their bodies gliding through the water in a harmonious ballet of athleticism. But Leon was not there to make friends or admire the view; he was there to win. He'd been recruited with the promise of a scholarship and the chance to prove himself on the international stage, and he wasn't about to let anyone or anything stand in his way.

Across the pool, Kate, an English swimmer with a reputation for her sharp wit and even sharper elbows, observed Leon from the corner of her eye. Her short, blonde hair bobbed in the water as she executed a perfect flip turn at the end of her lane. Kate was known for her speed in the freestyle events, and she had her sights set on breaking records. Her blue eyes narrowed slightly as she took in the newcomer's confident stride. Competition was what made her tick, and she felt a spark of excitement at the prospect of having a rival who might actually be able to push her limits.

The air was charged with the scent of chlorine and the faint aroma of coffee from the nearby cafe, where coaches and teammates chatted in hushed tones. As Leon took his place alongside Kate, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of irritation. He was good, really good, and that meant he was a threat. But Kate wasn't one to back down from a challenge. She had come to ASU to be the best, and she wasn't about to let some cocky Frenchman steal her thunder without a fight.

Their rivalry grew with every practice, every race, and every shared glance. They pushed each other, unspoken barbs passing between them like silent electric currents. Yet, beneath the surface of their hostility, there was a mutual respect, a recognition of the fire that burned in both their hearts. They were two of a kind, both driven by a passion for the sport that consumed them.

But it was during a particularly intense training session, when the tension between them reached a boiling point, that something unexpected happened. Leon's powerful kick sent a spray of water into Kate's face, and she emerged from the pool, spluttering and furious. Wiping the water from her eyes, she spun around to face him, her voice cutting through the air like a knife.

"What the hell was that?" she snapped, her British accent sharp as a tack.

Leon smirked, his own eyes glinting with mischief. "Just trying to cool you down, Kate," he said, his French accent lilting over her name in a way that made her even more irritated.

Their coach, a stoic man named Jenkins, stepped in before the situation could escalate. "Alright, you two," he barked. "Save it for the competition."

And so they did. But the seeds of something more than rivalry had been planted, and as they trained together, competed against each other, and shared their love for the water, Leon and Kate found themselves drawn into a dance of desire and challenge that neither could ignore.

The swim meet against Yale was fast approaching, and the pressure was on. The ASU team had been preparing for weeks, their bodies pushed to the brink of endurance. In the final moments before the mixed relay, Leon and Kate shared a look that was a mix of nerves and excitement. They were the anchor legs of their respective teams, and this race would be the decider. The crowd roared as the first swimmers took their marks, the air thick with anticipation.

Leon dove in, his muscles propelling him through the water with the grace of a dolphin. He took the lead early on, setting a blistering pace that seemed untouchable. Meanwhile, Kate waited on the edge of the pool, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched the race unfold. When it was her turn, she dove in with a ferocity that surprised even herself, her arms and legs moving like pistons as she chased after the Yale swimmers.

The race was tight, and as they reached the final exchange, Kate and Leon's teams were neck and neck. The tension in the air was palpable as the two swimmers reached out to touch the pads and start their final sprints. But disaster struck for ASU; a miscommunication between teammates caused a delay in the handoff, and Leon's team took the lead.

Furious, Kate slammed her fist against the side of the pool as she watched Leon pull ahead. The crowd's cheers only fueled her anger, and she turned to her team, her eyes blazing. "We can still do this," she shouted, her voice echoing through the cavernous space. "We're not going to lose because of a mistake!"

Leon heard her words, and something shifted inside of him. He knew he could win this race, but he also knew that Kate's spirit was something to be reckoned with. He pushed himself harder, his strokes becoming more powerful as he approached the final meters. But just as he was about to touch the pad and claim victory, Kate's hand shot out of the water, her fingers brushing against his ankle. It was a move that was against the rules, but in that moment, it didn't matter. The connection was electric, and for a split second, they were no longer enemies, but two athletes bound by a shared passion.

The race ended in a tie, but the real victory was the spark that had been ignited between them. In the aftermath of the meet, as the teams cooled down and the tension slowly dissipated, Kate approached Leon, her expression unreadable. "We should talk," she said, her voice low and serious.

Leon nodded, his heart racing. He knew what she meant, and he felt the same way. They had both been playing a game of cat and mouse, hiding their true feelings behind a facade of rivalry. But now, with the water still dripping from their bodies and the scent of victory and defeat mingling in the air, they could no longer deny the attraction that had been simmering beneath the surface.

In the quiet of the emptying pool area, Kate reached out and touched Leon's arm, her hand lingering there for a moment before she turned and walked away. Leon watched her go, his eyes never leaving her retreating figure. He knew that from this point on, their relationship would never be the same. The question was, could they navigate the choppy waters of love and competition without letting one drown the other?

Their conversation took place later that evening, under the warm glow of the outdoor lights that illuminated the deserted pool. The air was cool, a stark contrast to the heated emotions they had shared in the water. Kate spoke first, her voice a mix of frustration and curiosity. "Why did you do that?" she asked, referring to his actions during the race.

Leon leaned against the side of the pool, his eyes never leaving hers. "I didn't mean to win," he admitted. "I just… I wanted to feel your touch." His confession hung in the air, and for a moment, it was as if they were the only two people on Earth.

Kate's expression softened, and she took a step closer. "That was dangerous," she said, her voice quieter now. "But also incredibly thrilling."

They stood there for a moment, the unspoken understanding passing between them like an invisible current. Then, without warning, Leon reached out and pulled Kate into his arms, their wet bodies pressed together. The kiss was as fiery as their rivalry had been, a mix of passion and challenge that neither of them could resist. It was a declaration of war and a peace treaty all in one, a promise of what was to come.

As the days turned into weeks, their relationship grew in intensity. They trained harder than ever, pushing each other to new heights. Yet, there was also a tenderness that began to emerge, a gentle touch here, a shared smile there. The tension between them was no longer just about winning; it was about wanting to be the best for each other.

But as the swim season progressed, so did the stakes. The national championships were approaching, and their love story was about to face its greatest test. Would they be able to balance their newfound love with their burning desire to win? Or would their competitive spirits drive them apart just when they needed each other the most?

The night before the nationals, Kate lay in bed, her thoughts racing like a river in flood. She knew that tomorrow, she would not only be racing against the best swimmers in the country but also against Leon. She felt a strange mix of excitement and dread, knowing that she had to face her fears and her love all at once.

Leon, in his own room, felt the same. He had never wanted to win so badly and never felt so conflicted about it. Yet, as he closed his eyes, he saw Kate's face, her eyes alight with determination, and he knew that no matter what happened in the pool, she was already his champion.

The following morning, the air in the stadium was electric. The stands were packed with screaming fans, and the pool gleamed like a giant, aquatic battlefield. Kate and Leon met each other's gaze across the water, and for a moment, it was as if they were the only two people in the world. Then the starting gun fired, and they were off, their bodies moving in perfect harmony with the water.

The race was a blur of color and motion, each stroke a silent declaration of love and war. They pushed each other, challenged each other, and ultimately, it was Kate who touched the pad first, breaking the tape with a triumphant smile. But as she turned to face Leon, she saw that he was not far behind, his eyes shining with pride and admiration.

In that moment, as the crowd roared and confetti fell around them, Kate realized that she had won more than just a race. She had found someone who understood her, who knew her strengths and weaknesses, and who loved her for all of it. And as they embraced, their hearts beating in sync, she knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together, as equals and as champions.

Their relationship grew stronger with each passing day, each practice a silent negotiation of love and competition. They learned to balance the delicate scales of their emotions, to support each other in victory and in defeat. The bond that had been forged in the heat of the pool had transcended the boundaries of the sport, becoming something deeper and more profound.

But the swimming world was not without its challenges. Jealous teammates and whispers of favoritism followed them like shadows, and the pressure to win grew heavier with each race. Yet, Leon and Kate remained steadfast, their love for each other fueling their determination to succeed. They became each other's rocks, each other's air, and each other's inspiration.

The national championships were a whirlwind of emotion and adrenaline. Medals were won and lost, records were shattered, and through it all, Leon and Kate's eyes never left each other's. They were no longer just rivals; they were partners in a dance that was both fierce and beautiful. As they stepped onto the podium together, holding hands and basking in the glow of their success, they knew that they had found something much greater than gold.

In the end, it was their shared passion for swimming that had brought them together, but it was their love for each other that made them unstoppable. They had proven to themselves and to the world that sometimes, the greatest rivalries can become the most powerful alliances. And as they looked into the horizon of their futures, they knew that no matter how rough the waters got, they would always have each other to keep them afloat.

The whispers and jealous glances from their teammates slowly faded away as Leon and Kate's bond grew stronger. They had learned to navigate the treacherous waters of their relationship, turning every challenge into an opportunity to grow. They became an unshakeable force in the swimming world, inspiring not just their peers but also those who watched them from the stands.

But it wasn't all smooth sailing. There were moments of doubt, of fear that their love would somehow taint their competitive spirits. They had to learn to separate their personal lives from their professional ones, to keep the fire of their rivalry alive without letting it consume them. It was a delicate dance, one that required trust and communication.

Yet, as they stood on the edge of the pool, their eyes locked, ready to dive into the cool water for yet another race, they knew that they had found a balance. The water was their battleground, but outside of it, they were each other's sanctuary. And as they pushed off the starting blocks and sliced through the water, their hearts pounding in unison, they swam not just for themselves, but for the love that had transformed their lives.

Their story became the stuff of legends at ASU, a tale of passion, rivalry, and love that transcended the boundaries of the pool. As they graduated and moved on to compete internationally, they carried with them the lessons they had learned from each other. They were no longer just swimmers; they were a team, a force that could not be denied.

And when the time came for them to swim in the Olympic games, the entire world watched as they glided through the water, their strokes a testament to their journey. Whether they won gold or not, they had already achieved something far greater: a love that had made them both better athletes and better people. And as they touched the wall together, their hearts swelling with pride, they knew that no matter what the scoreboard said, they had already won the race that truly mattered.

Would like to say thank you to @laeana, @scottstr3et, @sashasedah, for giving me the push to write for Léon.

Hey!!! So I saw you opened your requests for Leon ! Could I request one? Maybe one where he and the reader is out and he notices her and likes her but thinks her friend is her boyfriend so he doesn’t come up to her but they meet again somewhere else and he finds out that the guy is just a friend and he asks her out. The date goes well and they go back to his/her place and it finishes with a smut 😏😏 if you are confortable with that !! Also could I add my own OC? If yes my name is Emma and I have brown hair, blue eyes and freckles and glasses!!! Thank you so much ♥️♥️♥️

✧✧✧ ─ Reading between the silver lining

Léon Marchand X Female!Reader, !Original Female Character

Warnings: SMUT, PnV, Mature themes, DNI if under 18!, No former knowledge of swimming nor american college. Enjoy!

I was very excited to start my requests, Here we go! I hope i captured the vision you had in mind x

"What do you think of the new menu?" Kyle asked, his eyes skimming over the freshly printed pages.

Emma looked up from her phone, brown hair falling into her face. She pushed her glasses back up her nose. "It looks good. But I can never decide," she said with a laugh, revealing a sprinkle of freckles across her cheeks. "I'm going with the usual, I guess."

"You and your predictability," Kyle teased, shaking his head.

The bell above the cafe door chimed, signaling a new arrival. A young man, tall with dark hair, walked in. He scanned the room, and when his eyes met Emma's, they lingered. She blushed, her blue eyes flickering away from his gaze.

"Who's that?" Kyle whispered, leaning in.

Emma shrugged. "Dunno. He's cute, though."

The stranger, Leon, took a seat a few tables away. He ordered a black coffee and pretended to read a book, stealing glances at the girl with the infectious smile and the guy who seemed too comfortable with her to be just a friend.

The cafe hummed with the low murmur of conversation and the clinking of spoons against porcelain. The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans filled the air, mingling with the sweet scent of baked goods. Outside, the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow through the windows.

Leon couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as he watched the pair. They seemed so at ease with each other, finishing each other's sentences and sharing quiet laughs. He wondered if they were a couple, if the universe had already paired her off. But something in her gaze, a hint of curiosity when she'd caught him looking, made him hopeful.

Emma's eyes met Leon's again, and she felt a strange pull. She'd never seen him before in this town, but there was something familiar about his smile. It was like a puzzle piece she hadn't known was missing. She nudged Kyle under the table. "What's his deal?"

Kyle followed her gaze. "Well, he's not checking me out, so I'm guessing he's not into guys," he said with a smirk. "But seriously, he seems to have a thing for you."

Emma's heart skipped a beat. Was it possible that this handsome stranger was interested in her? And if so, what would she do about it? She'd heard enough rumors about herself and Kyle, and she didn't want to lead anyone on. But the way Leon's eyes danced across her face made it hard to ignore the flutter in her stomach.

As the minutes ticked by, the tension grew. Would Leon come over? Would he leave without saying a word? The air was thick with possibility, and Emma found herself holding her breath.

Their conversation grew quieter, their smiles more tentative. The air in the cafe seemed to still, waiting for something to happen. The moment hung there, delicate and untouched, like a perfectly frozen snowflake about to melt.

Leon's frustration grew with every sip of his now-cold coffee. He'd never been one to approach a girl without confidence, but Emma's presence had him tied in knots. He watched as her brown hair caught the light, and her blue eyes sparkled with mirth at something Kyle said. He knew he had to do something, or he'd never forgive himself for letting her slip away.

Summoning his courage, he took a deep breath and stood. As he approached their table, the clatter of cups and the murmur of conversation grew distant. All he could hear was the thud of his own heart.

But just as he opened his mouth to speak, Kyle's laugh rang out, a little too loud, a little too forced. It shattered the spell, and Leon's resolve crumbled. He mumbled something about needing to go and retreated, his eyes never leaving Emma's until the door closed behind him.

Emma watched him leave, feeling a strange mix of disappointment and relief. She didn't know what she would have said if he had come over, but the fact that he hadn't felt like a missed opportunity. She turned to Kyle, who was watching her with a knowing smile. "What?" she asked, feeling her cheeks redden.

Kyle leaned back in his chair, his eyes twinkling. "You know what. You're totally smitten."

Emma rolled her eyes, but she couldn't deny the truth of his words. "It's just… I don't know. He's cute, and he seems nice."

Kyle's smile softened. "And you think because people assume we're a couple, you can't be interested in anyone else?"

Emma sighed. "It's not that. It's just… complicated."

Kyle reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "Look, Em, I'm your best friend. I'm not your boyfriend. You can like whoever you want. And if you want, I'll help you figure out how to talk to this Leon guy."

The offer was sincere, and Emma felt a warmth spread through her. "Thanks, Kyle," she said, smiling gratefully.

They sat there a moment longer, the cafe's ambiance washing over them like a comforting blanket. The sun had set outside, leaving only the warm glow of the streetlights to play on the windows. Emma took a deep breath, feeling a new determination settle in her chest. Maybe tomorrow she'd come back and see if Leon was here again. Maybe she'd work up the nerve to say hello. Or maybe she'd wait and hope that fate had other plans.

The next morning, Emma woke up early, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. She threw on a sundress that brought out the blue in her eyes and tied her hair back in a loose ponytail. It was a new semester, time for new beginnings. She grabbed her backpack and headed out the door, her thoughts still lingering on the mysterious man from the cafe.

The college campus was a buzz of activity. Groups of prospective students and their families shuffled from one building to the next, guided by eager tour guides. As she arrived at the meeting point for her tour, Emma's eyes scanned the crowd. And there he was, Leon, standing tall and handsome among the sea of faces. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, the world around them stopped.

The tour guide, a bubbly redhead named Linda, began her spiel about the school's rich history and state-of-the-art facilities. But Emma's attention was elsewhere. She couldn't help but steal glances at Leon as they walked through the quad. He was dressed in a simple white t-shirt and jeans, but the way the fabric hugged his muscular frame made her heart race. His eyes never left hers, and she felt a thrill run down her spine every time their gazes locked.

The tension between them was palpable, like a tightly wound spring waiting to snap. Every time they stopped at a new location, Emma felt the urge to break away from the group and talk to him. But she held back, unsure of what to say or how to approach him without making a fool of herself.

The tour wound through the library, the science building, and the student center. At each stop, Emma found herself lingering just a moment longer, hoping that Leon would make the first move. But he remained a silent observer, his eyes speaking volumes but his mouth saying nothing.

Finally, they arrived at the last stop, the college's picturesque amphitheater. As Linda wrapped up her speech, Emma felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. She turned to find Leon standing there, his eyes searching hers.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and smooth. "I noticed you at the cafe yesterday. I just wanted to say, I think you're beautiful."

Emma's cheeks burned as she took in his words. She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. All she could do was nod, her eyes wide with surprise.

Leon chuckled, a sound that sent a warm rush through her. "I'm Leon," he said, holding out his hand.

"Emma," she managed to choke out, placing her hand in his. His grip was firm, but gentle, sending a jolt of electricity through her.

The group began to disperse, and Emma knew she had to say something before she lost her chance. She took a deep breath and looked up at him, her heart pounding in her chest. "Would you like to grab coffee tomorrow?"

Leon's smile grew, a genuine light in his eyes. "I'd love to," he said, squeezing her hand before letting go. "Tomorrow it is."

And with that, they parted ways, the promise of a new connection lingering in the air. Emma felt a mix of excitement and anxiety as she walked back to her dorm, her thoughts racing with what tomorrow would bring.

The next afternoon, Emma arrived at the same cafe, her heart thumping in her chest. She spotted Leon at their usual table, a book laid open in front of him, a cup of black coffee steaming beside it. He looked up as she approached, his eyes lighting up with a smile that made her stomach flutter.

"Hey, gorgeous," he said, standing to pull out her chair.

Emma couldn't help but blush as she sat down. "Hi," she said, her voice a little shakier than she'd have liked.

They ordered their drinks and fell into an easy conversation, sharing stories of their families, their hometowns, and their hopes for the future. Leon talked about his love for basketball and how he'd always dreamed of swimming for the for the college team, the Sun Devils.

"But you're totally not a jock," Emma said playfully, raising an eyebrow as she stirred her latte.

Leon laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made her insides warm. "What makes you say that?"

"You read," she said, nodding at the book he'd brought with him. "I thought all athletes just listened to podcasts and stuff."

He rolled his eyes, but his smile never wavered. "Not all of us," he said. "I actually love literature. I'm just trying to keep up with the stereotype out there."

The conversation flowed effortlessly, and the hours melted away. They talked about their favorite books, their shared love for indie films, and their mutual disdain for overcooked pasta. Leon was charming and attentive, his gaze never leaving hers unless it was to laugh at something she said.

As they sat there, the sun began to set, casting a warm glow through the windows. The scent of freshly baked cookies filled the cafe, and the clatter of cups and spoons grew quieter as the last of the customers left.

"So, about that swim team," Emma said, playing with the edge of her napkin. "What's it like, being a college athlete?"

Leon leaned back in his chair, his eyes taking on a faraway look. "It's intense," he admitted. "But I wouldn't trade it for anything. It's like being part of a family."

"Sounds amazing," she said, meaning it. "But also, like a lot of pressure."

"It can be," he agreed. "But it's worth it for the love of the discpline."

Emma nodded, taking in his passion. It was clear that he didn't just swim; it was a part of who he was. And for some reason, that made him even more attractive to her.

As the night grew later, Leon reached across the table and took her hand. "Thank you," he said, his eyes earnest. "For giving me a chance, for not writing me off as just another jock."

Emma felt a warmth spread through her at his touch. "You're not just a jock," she said, her voice soft. "You're so much more."

Their first date had been nothing short of perfect, a blend of humor and depth that left Emma feeling seen in a way she hadn't in a long time. As they stepped out into the cool evening air, she couldn't help but wonder where this newfound connection would lead them. And as Leon walked her back to her dorm, his hand in hers, she knew that she was ready to find out.

They stopped outside her building, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. Without a word, Emma reached up and pulled him into a kiss that was anything but gentle. Her lips crashed into his, her teeth catching his bottom lip in a way that made him gasp. He was taken aback, but only for a moment, before his arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer.

They kissed against the rough brick of the dormitory, the sound of their breaths mingling with the distant chatter of students walking by. The night air was electric, charged with the excitement of a first kiss that held the promise of so much more.

Leon's hands found their way into her hair, and Emma felt herself melt into the warmth of his embrace. Her heart hammered in her chest, her body alive with sensation. It was a kiss that said everything she hadn't been able to put into words, a declaration of interest that was as raw as it was thrilling.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathless and smiling, Emma felt a rush of exhilaration. "I've wanted to do that since the moment I saw you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Leon chuckled, his eyes dark with desire. "I had a feeling," he said, his thumb tracing the swollen line of her bottom lip. "But I didn't want to assume."

They stood there for a moment longer, their foreheads pressed together, before Emma stepped back. "I should go in," she said, her voice shaky. "But I had a great time."

Leon nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "Me too," he murmured. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Emma nodded, her cheeks still flushed from their passionate embrace. "Tomorrow," she promised, before slipping inside the building, her heart racing.

The next day, Emma found herself counting the minutes until she saw Leon again. She'd never felt this way about someone she'd just met, but there was something about him that just clicked. They had plans to study together at the library, but all she could think about was the way his eyes had searched hers the night before.

When she finally saw him, her heart skipped a beat. He was sitting at their usual table, a stack of books in front of him, his dark hair slightly disheveled in a way that made him look even more attractive. As she approached, he looked up and smiled, the same smile that had captivated her the moment she saw him.

They spent hours poring over textbooks and notes, their legs brushing together under the table. The occasional glance and touch sent a thrill through her that she couldn't ignore. It was clear that their connection was more than just physical; they enjoyed each other's company on a level that went deeper than attraction.

As the night grew late, Emma found herself lost in his eyes, forgetting all about the assignments that lay untouched between them. "Leon," she whispered, her voice filled with longing.

He leaned in, his breath warm against her cheek. "Yes?"

"I don't want to wait anymore," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I want you."

Leon's eyes searched hers, a silent question hanging in the air. And when she nodded, he didn't hesitate. He leaned in and kissed her again, his hands cradling her face with a tenderness that took her breath away.

The library was forgotten as they stumbled out into the night, their kisses growing more urgent with every step. They didn't stop until they reached her dorm, their bodies pressed against the door, their hearts beating in time with the promise of what was to come.

It was the start of something beautiful, something that neither of them could have predicted. And as they broke apart, Emma knew that she'd found someone special in Leon, someone who saw her not just as Kyle's friend or the girl from the cafe, but as Emma, a person worthy of love and passion.

With trembling hands, she led him into her dorm, the excitement building with every step. The room was a mess, a whirlwind of textbooks and clothes, but she didn't care. All that mattered was the way he looked at her, the heat in his eyes that said he wanted her just as badly as she wanted him.

They barely made it to the couch before their kisses grew more intense, their hands exploring each other with an urgency that was both thrilling and terrifying. Emma felt the fabric of her dress give way as Leon's hands slid up her thighs, his touch setting her skin alight. She gasped as his fingers found the edge of her panties, his touch sending waves of pleasure crashing through her. His mouth however was fulfilling her like a man starved.

And then they were on the bed, the softness of the mattress giving way beneath them. Leon took his time, kissing and caressing every inch of her body, leaving her trembling with need. When his mouth found hers again, she could taste the desperation in his kisses, the need that mirrored her own.

Their clothes were discarded in a tangle of fabric, their bodies coming together in a dance that was both new and familiar. He was gentle but firm, his movements sure and deliberate, as if he knew exactly what she needed. And when he finally entered her, Emma felt a rush of emotion so strong it was almost overwhelming. It was more than just physical; it was a connection that went soul-deep.

Leon's eyes never left hers as he moved inside her, their bodies in perfect sync. She felt a building pressure, a coil of pleasure that threatened to consume her. And when she came, it was with a cry that seemed to shake the very foundations of the earth.

But Emma wasn't one to be outdone. With a fiery determination, she rolled him onto his back and took control, her mouth exploring his body with a hunger that surprised even her. She took him in her mouth, savoring the taste of him, feeling his body tense beneath her. And when he came, it was with a groan that echoed her own release, a sound that seemed to seal the bond between them.

As they lay tangled together, their breathing ragged and their hearts racing, Emma felt something she hadn't felt in a long time: contentment. This was what it was like to be truly seen, truly wanted. And as she looked into Leon's eyes, she knew that she'd do whatever it took to hold onto this feeling, to keep him in her life.

The next few days passed in a whirlwind of classes, late-night study sessions, and stolen moments together. They were insatiable, their connection growing stronger with every touch, every whispered confession.

One could argue a cup of coffee, a gay best friend and a touch of curiosity could always satisfy the most grueling of passions, lust.

end.

Thank you Emma (Anon) for your ask xx

would loveee a léon marchand fanfic in which they’re both olympic athletes!! it would be so cute them cheering each other on!

✧Hearts of Gold✧ ─

Léon Marchand x Female! Reader

Hello Anon, Thank you ever so much for this exciting request. I will admit I had lots of fun writing this! I hope I did created your idea well !

Warnings: Established relationship, time frames, unrealistic timings and settings, no prior knowledge of swimming nor equestrian. Enjoy!

The Olympic Village was a microcosm of the world’s most intense emotions—a mix of fierce competition and deep camaraderie. For Léon Marchand and Camille Durand, it was a place where dreams could either flourish or be shattered. But the couple, who had been together for three years, were determined to make these Olympics their greatest triumph.

Léon, the golden boy of French swimming, was aiming for four gold medals. Camille, a rising star in equestrian, had her sights set on three. They were each other’s biggest supporters, and their love had only grown stronger under the pressure of competition. Now, in the heart of the Olympic Games, their bond would be tested and celebrated as they chased their dreams together.

---

**Day 1: 400m Individual Medley - Léon’s First Event**

The aquatic center buzzed with energy as spectators filled the stands, the air thick with anticipation. Camille found a spot close to the pool, her heart racing as she watched Léon prepare for the 400m individual medley, one of his strongest events.

She could see the focused determination in his eyes, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed as he shook out his limbs, preparing his body for the grueling race ahead. Camille’s fingers gripped the railing in front of her, her knuckles turning white as she whispered a silent prayer for him.

The buzzer sounded, and Léon exploded off the starting block, diving into the water with a grace that took Camille’s breath away. The race was intense from the start, each swimmer pushing themselves to the limit. Léon was in second place after the butterfly, but Camille wasn’t worried—she knew he was holding back, saving his energy for the latter half of the race.

As the swimmers transitioned into the breaststroke, Léon began to pull ahead, his powerful strokes propelling him through the water with unmatched speed. Camille’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched him close the gap and then surge into the lead during the freestyle. The crowd’s roar was deafening as Léon touched the wall first, securing his first gold of the Games.

Camille’s eyes filled with tears of pride as she watched Léon climb out of the pool, his chest heaving with exertion. He looked up into the stands, searching for her, and when their eyes met, the world seemed to melt away.

She was the first to rush down to the poolside, and as soon as Léon was close enough, she threw her arms around him, uncaring of the water soaking her clothes. “You did it, Léon!” she exclaimed, her voice choked with emotion.

Léon held her tightly, his wet hair clinging to his forehead as he laughed, the sound rich with relief and joy. “For you, Camille. I did it for you.”

Their lips met in a kiss, one filled with all the love and support they had for each other. It was a promise of more to come, of standing by each other through every victory and defeat.

---

**Day 2: Dressage - Camille’s First Event**

The next day, it was Léon’s turn to be the nervous spectator. Camille was a vision of elegance and poise as she entered the equestrian arena, her horse, Étoile, moving beneath her with a grace that took Léon’s breath away. Dressage was Camille’s passion, a discipline that required absolute harmony between rider and horse, and Léon knew how much this moment meant to her.

Léon stood at the edge of the arena, his heart in his throat as he watched Camille guide Étoile through their routine. Every movement was fluid, every transition seamless. The bond between Camille and Étoile was evident in every step, every turn. She looked so calm, so in control, but Léon knew the intensity behind her focus, the fire that drove her to be the best.

As the final movement ended, there was a moment of silence before the arena erupted into applause. The judges’ scores flashed on the screen, and Léon’s heart soared when he saw that Camille had earned the highest marks. She had done it—gold.

He couldn’t contain his excitement as he rushed to meet her. Camille was just dismounting when Léon reached her, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around in a joyful embrace. “You were incredible, Camille!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with pride and admiration.

Camille’s laughter was like music to his ears, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “I had to match your gold somehow,” she teased, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

Léon kissed her back, his heart swelling with love. “We’re unstoppable together,” he murmured against her lips. “I love you, Camille. More than anything.”

“I love you too, Léon,” Camille replied, her voice filled with emotion. “And I’ll always be here, cheering you on, just like you are for me.”

---

**Day 4: 200m Butterfly - Léon’s Second Event**

The days blurred together in a whirlwind of competition, but each event brought Léon and Camille closer. They supported each other through the highs and lows, their love strengthening with each shared experience.

The 200m butterfly was Léon’s next challenge, and Camille was once again on the edge of her seat, her heart racing as she watched him step onto the starting block. This race was one of his specialties, but the competition was fierce, and Camille could feel the tension in the air.

The race began, and Léon dove into the water, his powerful strokes cutting through the waves with precision. Camille held her breath as he battled it out with the other swimmers, the lead changing hands several times. By the final lap, it was neck and neck, and Camille could barely contain her anxiety as Léon pushed himself to the limit.

In the final few meters, Léon found an extra burst of speed, surging ahead to touch the wall just a fraction of a second before his closest competitor. The crowd erupted in cheers, and Camille’s heart soared with pride. Another gold for Léon.

She was at the edge of the pool before he even climbed out, her heart racing as she saw the triumphant smile on his face. “You were amazing, Léon!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him the moment he was within reach.

Léon’s chest was still heaving with exertion, but he pulled her close, his wet skin cool against her own. “I could hear you cheering me on,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “It gave me the strength I needed.”

Camille kissed him, pouring all her love and pride into the kiss. “And I’ll always be here, Léon. Always.”

---

**Day 5: Cross-Country - Camille’s Second Event**

Cross-country was Camille’s second event, and it was one of the most demanding. The course was challenging, the terrain rugged, but Camille and Étoile were more than ready. Léon watched from the sidelines, his heart pounding as he saw Camille navigate the course with skill and precision.

Every jump, every turn was a test of endurance and trust between Camille and her horse, and Léon could see the bond they shared in every movement. Camille’s face was a picture of concentration, but there was also a look of pure joy—she loved this, the thrill of the challenge, the connection with Étoile.

Léon’s breath caught in his throat as Camille and Étoile approached the final jump. The entire stadium seemed to hold its breath as they soared over the obstacle, landing perfectly on the other side. Camille crossed the finish line with the fastest time of the day, securing her second gold.

Léon’s heart swelled with pride as he ran to meet her, catching her in his arms as she dismounted. “You did it, Camille! You’re incredible!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with awe.

Camille’s eyes were bright with tears of joy as she hugged him tightly. “I couldn’t have done it without knowing you were here, Léon,” she whispered. “You give me strength.”

Léon cupped her face in his hands, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “And you’re my inspiration, Camille. I love you so much.”

Their kiss was tender, filled with the deep love and connection they shared. Together, they were unstoppable, their hearts beating as one.

---

**Day 7: 4x100m Freestyle Relay - Léon’s Final Event**

The 4x100m freestyle relay was Léon’s final event, and it was the one he wanted the most. He had already won three golds, but this one was special—a team effort that could bring France another victory.

Camille was in the stands, her hands clenched tightly together as she watched the relay unfold. Léon was swimming the anchor leg, and as the race progressed, it became clear that it would come down to the final few seconds. The tension was unbearable as Léon took off, his powerful strokes propelling him through the water with incredible speed.

The French team was trailing slightly, but Léon dug deep, finding a reserve of energy that pushed him ahead in the final meters. The stadium erupted in cheers as Léon touched the wall first, securing his fourth gold medal of the Games.

Camille felt tears of pride and joy stream down her face as she watched Léon climb out of the pool, his teammates surrounding him in celebration. He had done it—four gold medals. When their eyes met across the crowded pool deck, Léon broke away from his team, making his way to her.

Camille was waiting for him with open arms, and as soon as he reached her, she pulled him into a tight embrace. “You did it, Léon! Four.

---

The Olympic Games had been an unforgettable whirlwind of emotion, competition, and triumph for Léon Marchand and Camille Durand. Their love had been their strength, carrying them through the intense highs and lows of the competition. Together, they had won seven gold medals for France—four for Léon and three for Camille. But as the final day of the Games approached, there was one last moment that would make these Olympics truly unforgettable.

---

**Day 8: Show Jumping - Camille’s Final Event**

The atmosphere in the arena was electric as Camille prepared for her final event: the show jumping competition. She had already secured two gold medals in dressage and cross-country, and now, all that stood between her and a third gold was this last event. Léon watched her from the stands, his heart racing, not just with anticipation for her performance, but for what he planned to do afterward.

Camille looked stunning in her riding gear, her face a mask of concentration as she guided Étoile, her beloved white stallion, into the arena. The crowd fell silent, all eyes on the duo as they approached the first jump.

Léon held his breath, his hands clasped tightly together as Camille and Étoile moved through the course with incredible precision and grace. Every jump was flawless, every turn smooth and controlled. Camille and Étoile were in perfect harmony, moving as one through the difficult course.

As they approached the final jump, the entire arena seemed to hold its breath. Léon’s heart pounded in his chest, and when Camille and Étoile cleared the jump flawlessly, the crowd erupted in cheers. She had done it—Camille had secured her third gold medal of the Games.

Léon felt a surge of pride and love as he watched her dismount, her face glowing with happiness. But even as she was surrounded by her teammates and the press, Camille’s eyes sought Léon’s in the crowd, and when they met, she smiled, a smile that made Léon’s heart swell with emotion.

---

**The Proposal**

As Camille was handed her gold medal during the podium ceremony, Léon was already in motion. He had planned every detail of what was about to happen, and with a deep breath, he walked onto the arena floor, carrying a small velvet box in his hand.

Camille’s heart skipped a beat when she saw Léon approaching her. The crowd was still cheering, their excitement for her victory filling the air, but suddenly, everything else faded away. All she could see was Léon, his eyes shining with love and something else—something that made her pulse quicken.

As Léon reached her, the arena fell into a hush, the spectators sensing that something special was about to happen. Camille looked at him, her heart in her throat, as he took her hand in his.

“Camille,” Léon began, his voice steady but filled with emotion, “these past few weeks have been the most incredible of my life, and not just because of the medals. You’ve been by my side through every race, every challenge, and I’ve never been more sure of anything than I am of this.”

He dropped to one knee, and the crowd gasped in unison. Camille’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears as Léon opened the velvet box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring.

“Camille Durand,” Léon said, his voice trembling slightly as he looked up at her, “I love you more than anything in this world. Will you marry me?”

For a moment, Camille couldn’t speak, her heart so full of love and joy that it felt like it might burst. The world around them seemed to disappear, and all that remained was Léon, down on one knee, asking her to spend the rest of her life with him.

“Yes,” she finally whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. “Yes, Léon, I’ll marry you.”

The crowd erupted into cheers as Léon slipped the ring onto her finger, rising to his feet to pull her into his arms. Camille laughed through her tears, wrapping her arms around his neck as their lips met in a kiss that felt like the beginning of forever.

The cheers of the crowd surrounded them, the cameras capturing every moment, but Léon and Camille were lost in their own world, their hearts beating as one. As they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, they knew that this moment was more precious than any medal they could ever win.

They had come to the Olympics as athletes, determined to make their mark on the world. But they were leaving as something even more—partners, ready to face the future together, hand in hand, with a love that would last a lifetime.

**The End**

hii so i was wondering if you could write for leon x y/n ? maybe one where she is also french? if that’s not too much to ask🤍

✧Les Ondes de l'Amour✧ ─ Léon Marchand x Y/N

Hello Anon, Thank you for your request! I'm not fluent in french, only learning I have is from secondary level education. I hope this is to your expectation, x

Warnings: Not fluent in French, Established relationship, creative intervention to fit plot.

The golden sun cast a warm glow over the pool at the Centre National de la Natation in Paris. The air was thick with the scent of chlorine, and the rhythmic splash of swimmers practicing their strokes echoed around the massive facility.

You were sitting by the side of the pool, your legs dangling in the cool water as you watched the elite swimmers glide through the water with precision. Among them, your eyes were naturally drawn to one in particular—Leon Marchand.

Leon had captured the world's attention with his incredible talent, and today, he was training hard, as usual. Every stroke, every kick, was a testament to the hours of dedication he poured into his sport. But when he saw you sitting there, a smile broke through his usually focused expression.

You waved, a small gesture, but it made his heart skip a beat. As he finished his lap and surfaced, he swam towards you, water streaming down his toned muscles. The way he moved, graceful yet powerful, never ceased to amaze you.

"Tu t'amuses bien, chérie?" Leon asked playfully, resting his arms on the edge of the pool beside you.

("Are you having fun, sweetheart?")

You smiled back at him, your eyes reflecting the warmth of his. "Comment pourrais-je m'ennuyer en te regardant? Tu es impressionnant, comme toujours."

("How could I be bored watching you? You're impressive, as always.")

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Tu sais bien que je le fais mieux quand tu es là."

("You know I do it better when you're here.")

There was a teasing tone to his voice, but you knew there was truth behind it. Your presence always seemed to bring out the best in him, something you both silently acknowledged.

"Alors, tu es prêt pour les championnats?" you asked, tilting your head slightly as you looked at him.

("So, are you ready for the championships?")

"Je le suis. Mais seulement si tu es là pour m'encourager," Leon replied, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

("I am. But only if you're there to cheer me on.")

You blushed slightly, the soft touch sending a flutter through your heart. "Bien sûr. Je serai là, juste à côté de toi, comme toujours."

("Of course. I'll be there, right beside you, as always.")

"Ça me rassure," he said softly, his gaze locking with yours. For a moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this intimate bubble of calm.

("That reassures me.")

Leon leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tu sais, Y/N, quand je suis dans l'eau, je pense souvent à toi. Ça m'aide à me concentrer, à me pousser plus loin."

("You know, Y/N, when I'm in the water, I often think of you. It helps me focus, to push myself further.")

Your breath hitched slightly at his words. Leon was not one to open up easily, but with you, he always seemed to find the courage to share his thoughts and feelings.

"Je pense à toi aussi," you admitted, your hand moving to rest on his, still slick with water. "Tu es une source d'inspiration pour moi."

("I think of you too. You're a source of inspiration for me.")

"Alors, nous nous inspirons mutuellement," he said with a soft smile before pressing a gentle kiss to your hand.

("Then, we inspire each other.")

The moment was broken by the sharp sound of a whistle, calling Leon back to the pool. He sighed, looking over his shoulder before turning back to you.

"Je dois y retourner," he said, a hint of reluctance in his voice.

("I have to go back.")

"I know," you replied, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'll be right here, cheering you on."

With one last lingering look, Leon pushed off the edge, diving back into the water with renewed energy. As you watched him swim away, your heart swelled with pride and affection. You knew that no matter where life took you both, you would always be there for each other—your love as steady and powerful as the waves that Leon so expertly conquered.

---

Later that evening, you and Leon returned to his apartment, a cozy space filled with reminders of his journey as a swimmer. Framed medals and photos adorned the walls, telling the story of his accomplishments. The scent of dinner filled the air—a simple but hearty meal of pasta and grilled chicken, something quick and nutritious to fuel his intense training.

As you sat down at the small dining table, Leon poured you a glass of sparkling water, the bubbles fizzing softly. "Tu as bien aimé l'entraînement aujourd'hui?" he asked, settling into the chair across from you.

("Did you enjoy the training today?")

"Oui, c'était impressionnant. Tu es toujours tellement concentré," you replied, twirling some pasta around your fork.

("Yes, it was impressive. You're always so focused.")

Leon shrugged modestly, a small smile playing on his lips. "J'essaie. Mais c'est plus facile quand je sais que tu es là pour me soutenir."

("I try. But it's easier when I know you're there to support me.")

You reached across the table, placing your hand over his. "Je serai toujours là, Leon. Tu n'as pas à t'inquiéter pour ça."

("I'll always be there, Leon. You don't have to worry about that.")

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and affection. "Ça compte beaucoup pour moi, tu sais?"

("That means a lot to me, you know?")

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. Dinner with Leon was always filled with easy conversation and quiet moments of connection. Tonight was no different, but there was an added layer of excitement in the air. Tomorrow, you were both heading to Toulouse to have dinner with his parents—a step in your relationship that felt both significant and special.

---

The next day, after a smooth train ride, you arrived in Toulouse. The city had a different pace from Paris, more relaxed and warm, much like the Marchand family itself. Leon’s parents had invited you to their home, a charming house just outside the city center. The garden was in full bloom, with vibrant flowers adding a splash of color to the cozy surroundings.

Leon opened the front gate for you, leading the way up the stone path. As soon as you stepped inside, you were enveloped in the comforting aroma of home-cooked food. His mother, always gracious, greeted you with a warm hug, while his father shook your hand with a smile.

"Bienvenue, Y/N! On est tellement contents de te voir," his mother said, guiding you into the living room.

("Welcome, Y/N! We're so happy to see you.")

"Merci beaucoup. Je suis ravie d'être ici," you replied, genuinely touched by the warmth of their welcome.

("Thank you so much. I'm delighted to be here.")

Dinner was a lively affair. The table was laden with a spread of delicious French dishes—ratatouille, coq au vin, and a fresh baguette that Leon’s father had picked up from the local bakery that morning. As you all sat around the table, the conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and stories.

Leon’s parents were clearly proud of him, but they were also keen to learn more about you. They asked about your work, your family, and your hobbies. The warmth in their eyes made you feel like you were already a part of their family.

As the evening wore on, Leon’s mother brought out dessert—a tart au citron that was as beautiful as it was delicious. Over the sweet treat, the conversation turned to lighter topics, and you felt completely at ease.

"Leon nous parle souvent de toi," his mother said, her eyes twinkling. "Il est tellement heureux quand tu es là."

("Leon talks about you often. He's so happy when you're around.")

You blushed slightly, glancing at Leon, who was smiling softly at you. "Je suis heureuse aussi, surtout quand je suis avec lui."

("I'm happy too, especially when I'm with him.")

His father raised his glass, a gesture of celebration. "À vous deux. Que votre bonheur continue de grandir."

("To you both. May your happiness continue to grow.")

"À nous," Leon echoed, clinking his glass against yours with a loving smile.

("To us.")

After dinner, you and Leon took a stroll through the garden, the cool evening air refreshing after the warmth of the house. The stars were beginning to twinkle in the night sky, and the sounds of the city felt far away, leaving just the two of you in a peaceful bubble.

"Merci d'être venue ce soir," Leon said softly, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you walked.

("Thank you for coming tonight.")

"Merci de m'avoir invitée. Tes parents sont adorables," you replied, leaning into him.

("Thank you for inviting me. Your parents are lovely.")

"Je savais qu'ils t'aimeraient," he said with a smile, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Comme je t'aime."

("I knew they'd love you. Just like I do.")

Your heart swelled at his words, and you stopped walking, turning to face him. "Je t'aime aussi, Leon. Plus que tu ne le sauras jamais."

("I love you too, Leon. More than you'll ever know.")

He cupped your face in his hands, his touch gentle and warm. The soft glow of the garden lights cast a golden hue on his features, highlighting the tenderness in his eyes. "C'est tout ce que je voulais entendre," Leon whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

("That's all I wanted to hear.")

Slowly, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both sweet and passionate. It felt like time stood still, the world around you fading into the background. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of you and the love you shared.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathing softly in the stillness of the night. Leon's thumb brushed gently across your cheek, as if trying to memorize every detail of your face.

"Je veux que tu saches que je suis sérieux à propos de nous," Leon said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Je ne peux pas imaginer ma vie sans toi."

("I want you to know that I'm serious about us. I can't imagine my life without you.")

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings. "Moi non plus, Leon. Je suis tellement heureuse de t'avoir trouvé."

("Neither can I, Leon. I'm so happy to have found you.")

The night felt almost magical as you both stood there, wrapped in each other's arms. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring you together, and now that you had found each other, there was no turning back.

Eventually, you made your way back inside, where Leon's parents were relaxing in the living room, enjoying a quiet moment with their coffee. They looked up as you entered, their smiles warm and knowing.

"Ça a été une belle soirée, non?" Leon's mother asked, a twinkle of affection in her eyes as she glanced between the two of you.

("It was a lovely evening, wasn't it?")

"Oui, c'était parfait," you replied, exchanging a meaningful look with Leon.

("Yes, it was perfect.")

His father nodded, setting down his cup. "Vous êtes toujours les bienvenus ici. N'oubliez pas que cette maison est aussi la vôtre."

("You're always welcome here. Don't forget that this house is also yours.")

Touched by their kindness, you smiled and thanked them both. It was clear that Leon's parents had embraced you as part of their family, and that meant more to you than words could express.

As the night drew to a close, you and Leon said your goodbyes and made your way back to his apartment. The journey was quiet, both of you lost in your thoughts, but it was a comfortable silence, one filled with the contentment of knowing that you were loved and cherished.

Back at the apartment, you curled up on the couch together, Leon’s arm wrapped around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. The day had been long but fulfilling, and now, in the quiet comfort of his home, you felt at peace.

"Je pense que mes parents t'aiment plus que moi," Leon joked, breaking the silence with a playful smile.

("I think my parents love you more than they love me.")

You laughed softly, tilting your head to look up at him. "C'est parce qu'ils savent que je vais bien m'occuper de toi."

("That's because they know I'll take good care of you.")

He grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "Et moi de toi."

("And I of you.")

The rest of the evening passed in a blissful haze, the two of you simply enjoying each other’s presence. As you drifted off to sleep in Leon’s arms later that night, you knew without a doubt that this was where you were meant to be—right beside him, in a life filled with love, laughter, and the promise of a beautiful future together.

girly you know how much i’m a sucker for fluff 😭😭 i NEED a friends to lovers with leon omg ??

✧A Love That Grows With Time✧ Léon Marchand x Y/N

Warnings: Friends to lovers, overload fluff, bunnies and unicorns worth of fluff.

Dearest @taiylors16, i have filled this fic full of gummies, clouds and so much more for your 'Fluff Haven', love you dearly. x

Part One: Innocent Beginnings

The first day you met Léon Marchand was a day of new beginnings. You were eight years old, your family had just moved into the quiet, tree-lined neighborhood in Toulouse, and everything felt new and unfamiliar. You stood on the front lawn of your new home, watching as your parents unloaded boxes from the moving truck, when your gaze was drawn to the house next door.

There, in the neighboring yard, a boy with messy brown hair was splashing around in a small inflatable pool. His laughter, bright and carefree, floated through the summer air, drawing you in like a magnet. You found yourself inching closer, curiosity getting the better of you.

The boy noticed you watching and immediately grinned, waving you over with the kind of enthusiasm that only children seem to possess. Without a second thought, you dropped the doll you’d been holding and ran over to the fence that separated your yards.

"Hi! I’m Léon. What’s your name?" he called out, still splashing about in the water.

"I’m Y/N," you replied, your shyness momentarily forgotten in the face of his friendly demeanor.

"Do you want to play?" Léon asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

You nodded eagerly, and before you knew it, you were climbing over the fence to join him. The afternoon passed in a blur of water fights, silly games, and laughter so loud it echoed off the houses. It felt like you’d known Léon forever, like he was the missing piece to your puzzle. From that day forward, you were inseparable.

The long summer days were filled with endless adventures. You and Léon would race your bikes down the quiet streets, pretending you were in the Tour de France. You’d build forts out of cardboard boxes, imagining you were explorers discovering new lands. Every day was a new story, a new game, and every day, Léon was there, right by your side.

You spent most afternoons at his house, where his mother would always have snacks ready for the two of you. Léon’s house quickly became your second home, a place where you felt completely at ease. The two of you would spend hours in his room, sprawled out on the floor with toys and games, chatting about anything and everything.

One day, as you both lay on the grass in his backyard, staring up at the sky, Léon turned to you with a serious expression. "We’re going to be best friends forever, right, Y/N?"

You looked at him, surprised by the sudden seriousness in his voice. But when you saw the earnestness in his eyes, you smiled and nodded. "Yeah, forever."

And just like that, a promise was made—a promise that would shape the course of your lives in ways neither of you could have predicted.

Part Two: Growing Together

As you and Léon grew older, your friendship only deepened. By the time you were in middle school, you were more like family than friends. You had a bond that was unshakeable, built on years of shared memories and countless adventures.

Léon had started swimming competitively, and it quickly became clear that he had a natural talent for it. Every afternoon after school, he’d head to the local pool for practice, and more often than not, you’d be right there with him, cheering him on from the sidelines.

You’d sit on the bleachers with a book or your homework, but your attention was always on Léon. There was something mesmerizing about watching him glide through the water, his movements smooth and effortless. You admired his dedication, the way he pushed himself to be better every day. Even at twelve years old, he had a determination that was rare, and you couldn’t help but feel proud of him.

After practice, Léon would always find you waiting for him outside the pool. You’d walk home together, talking about everything and nothing. Those walks became your favorite part of the day, a time when it was just the two of you, no distractions, no interruptions.

One evening, after a particularly tough practice, Léon emerged from the locker room, his hair still damp and a tired smile on his face. You handed him a towel, as you always did, and he took it with a grateful nod.

"You know, you don’t have to wait for me every day," he said, though there was a hint of something in his voice—hope, maybe, or gratitude.

"I know," you replied with a shrug, trying to play it cool. "But I want to."

Léon smiled, that same warm, easy smile that had drawn you to him all those years ago. "What would I do without you, Y/N?"

The question was casual, but something about it made your heart skip a beat. You brushed it off with a laugh, but later that night, as you lay in bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You and Léon had always been close, but lately, there was something different between you, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

You were fourteen now, and with each passing day, the world around you seemed to change. School was more demanding, your social circles were expanding, and new interests were beginning to take shape. But through it all, Léon remained the one constant in your life. He was the one person you could always count on, the one person who knew you better than anyone else.

As the school year went on, you started to notice things about Léon that you hadn’t before. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the way his voice deepened when he talked about something he was passionate about, the way he always seemed to be there for you, no matter what.

You found yourself thinking about him more often, wondering what it would be like to hold his hand, to be more than just friends. But every time those thoughts crept into your mind, you pushed them away, afraid of what they might mean.

After all, Léon was your best friend. He was the person you’d grown up with, the person who knew all your secrets, who had been there through every high and low. The last thing you wanted was to ruin that.

But as much as you tried to ignore it, that feeling—that flutter in your chest whenever he smiled at you, that warmth that spread through you whenever he said your name—refused to go away.

And then, one evening, everything changed.

Part Three: The First Kiss

It was a warm summer night, the kind that seemed to stretch on forever. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers, and the sky was painted in shades of pink and orange as the sun dipped below the horizon.

You and Léon were walking home from the pool, as you always did, your conversation light and easy. The day had been perfect—Léon had broken his personal record in the 100m freestyle, and you’d been there to witness it, cheering him on with all the pride and excitement you felt.

As you approached your house, something in the air shifted. The easy banter between you quieted, and a comfortable silence settled in. You could feel the soft breeze on your skin, the rhythmic sound of your footsteps on the pavement, but most of all, you could feel Léon’s presence beside you, warm and steady.

When you reached your front gate, you turned to face him, suddenly aware of how close he was. The streetlamp cast a golden glow on his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes as he looked at you. For a moment, the world seemed to stop, and all you could hear was the pounding of your own heart.

"Léon," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t even sure what you were going to say, but you knew you had to say something, anything to break the tension that had been building between you for weeks.

But before you could continue, Léon took a small step forward, closing the distance between you. His hand reached up, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. The touch was soft, almost hesitant, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

"You know," he said, his voice just as quiet, "I’ve been wanting to tell you something."

Your breath caught in your throat. "What is it?"

Léon’s gaze held yours, and in that moment, you could see everything—every emotion, every thought, every unspoken word that had been building up between you for so long.

"I think… no, I know," he began, his words careful and deliberate, "that I care about you more than just as a friend. I’ve felt this way for a while, but I didn’t want to say anything because I was afraid… afraid it might change things between us."

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your mind racing to catch up with what he was saying. Could it be? Did he feel the same way you did?

But before you could respond, Léon continued, his voice growing softer, more vulnerable. "But now, standing here with you, I can’t keep it to myself anymore. I… I really like you, Y/N."

For a moment, you were speechless, too overwhelmed by the rush of emotions surging through you. But then, without thinking, you took a step forward, closing the gap between you even further, and you whispered, "I like you too, Léon."

The relief and joy in his eyes were undeniable, and before you knew it, he was leaning in, his lips meeting yours in the softest, most tender kiss you’d ever imagined. It was a kiss that spoke of years of friendship, of shared memories and unspoken feelings, of a love that

Certainly! Here’s the continuation of the story, extending into their adult years, where their relationship blossoms into a loving, romantic partnership.

---

Part Four: Love in Full Bloom

As you and Léon transitioned into adulthood, the bond that had been formed in your childhood grew into a deep, enduring love. Both of you were now in your early twenties, navigating the complexities of life, careers, and relationships. But through it all, your love for each other remained a constant source of strength and joy.

Léon had become a prominent figure in the world of competitive swimming. His dedication and talent had propelled him to international success, and he was now a well-respected athlete with a busy schedule. Despite the demands of his career, he always made time for you, understanding that your presence was just as important to him as his training and competitions.

Your own career had taken off as well. You had pursued a path in graphic design, and after a few years of hard work, you had established yourself as a respected designer in your field. The long hours and creative challenges were fulfilling, but what truly made your days bright was the knowledge that you had Léon by your side.

One evening, after a particularly intense day at work, you came home to a surprise. Your apartment was softly lit with candles, and the aroma of a delicious meal wafted from the kitchen. You dropped your keys on the entry table, a smile spreading across your face as you walked towards the source of the enticing smell.

"Léon?" you called out, your voice filled with both surprise and delight.

"In here," came his voice from the kitchen.

You stepped into the kitchen to find Léon, wearing an apron over his casual clothes, stirring a pot on the stove. He turned to you with a grin, his eyes sparkling with affection.

"Hey," he said, his voice warm and inviting. "I wanted to do something special for you tonight. I know you’ve been working hard and I thought you could use a little break."

Your heart melted at his thoughtfulness. "This is amazing, Léon. You didn’t have to."

He shrugged, a playful smile on his lips. "Of course I did. You deserve it."

He finished preparing dinner, and together, you sat down at the table, a spread of homemade dishes that showcased his surprising culinary skills. The meal was delicious, and as you ate, you talked about your day, your hopes, and your dreams. It felt like a perfect moment, a reminder of how lucky you were to have Léon in your life.

After dinner, you moved to the living room, where the candles provided a soft, romantic glow. You settled onto the couch, Léon sitting close beside you, his arm draped around your shoulders. The comfort of his presence was everything you needed after a long day.

"I’ve been thinking," Léon said softly, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your arm. "About how far we’ve come."

You leaned into him, your head resting on his shoulder. "Me too. It’s been quite a journey, hasn’t it?"

"Yeah," he agreed, his voice filled with warmth. "From playing in the backyard to this. I never imagined it would turn out like this."

You looked up at him, your heart full of love. "Neither did I, but I’m so glad it did."

Léon’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside had faded away. The connection between you was palpable, a bond forged through years of friendship and deepened by the love you now shared.

"Do you remember when we were kids," he said, his voice low and tender, "and we used to lie on the grass, looking up at the clouds and making up stories?"

"How could I forget?" you replied with a smile. "Those were some of my favorite times."

Léon’s hand found yours, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I’ve always felt like we were meant to be together, like we were two pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly."

Your heart swelled at his words. "I’ve felt the same way. Even when we were just friends, there was always something special between us."

He squeezed your hand, his gaze never leaving yours. "And now, as we’re building our lives together, I can’t imagine it any other way."

You leaned in, closing the distance between you until your lips met in a soft, lingering kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of all the years you had spent together, of the love that had grown from a childhood friendship into something profound and beautiful.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were smiling, your hearts full and content. Léon’s fingers gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, and he looked at you with an expression of pure adoration.

"Y/N," he said softly, "I love you more than I can put into words."

You smiled, your heart overflowing with happiness. "I love you too, Léon. More than you’ll ever know."

The evening continued in a haze of love and contentment. You talked about your future, your dreams, and the life you were building together. Every moment felt perfect, a testament to the strength of your bond and the depth of your love.

As the night drew to a close, you found yourselves wrapped in each other’s arms, lying together on the couch. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over the room, and the soft music playing in the background provided the perfect soundtrack to your cozy evening.

You snuggled closer to Léon, your head resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. He kissed the top of your head, his embrace warm and comforting.

"This," you whispered, "is exactly where I want to be."

Léon’s arms tightened around you, and he kissed your forehead gently. "Me too, Y/N. Me too."

As you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s love, you knew that no matter what the future held, you would face it together. Your journey from childhood friends to lovers had been a beautiful one, filled with moments of joy, laughter, and unwavering support. And as you held Léon close, you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the love that had grown between you—one that was strong, enduring, and beautifully perfect.

And so, Léon and Y/N’s story continued, a testament to the power of friendship, the beauty of love, and the joy of sharing a life with someone who truly understood and cherished you.

could you maybe write an imagine with Leon and like his childhood best friend who became his girlfriend and they are just private but he mentions her during an interview and everyone on social media etc turns mental because of that ( for the face claim maybe Alexandra saint mleux ? )

✧The Quiet Confession✧ Léon Marchand x Y/N, Face claim, Alexandra Saint-Mleux.

Hello Anon, I Adore Alexandra so i was very excited to write this fic, Enjoy!

Warnings: Unrealistic Time line and settings, No knowledge of either peoples personal lives and mature themes.

The studio was buzzing with excitement as Léon Marchand took his seat across from the interviewer. The gold medal draped around his neck glinted under the bright lights, a tangible reminder of his recent victory. Léon was no stranger to interviews, but today felt different. It wasn’t just about the race or the medal—it was about opening up in a way he rarely did.

The interviewer, a seasoned journalist known for her ability to get athletes to reveal more than just stats and training regimens, greeted him with a warm smile. “Léon, thank you for joining us today. Congratulations on your incredible win! How are you feeling?”

Léon smiled back, his easygoing demeanor evident as he adjusted the medal around his neck. “Thank you. It’s still sinking in, to be honest. I’m just trying to soak it all in.”

The conversation flowed smoothly, covering his training, the pressures of competition, and the support of his family and teammates. But then, the interviewer shifted gears slightly, her tone more personal. “Léon, you’ve been a public figure for some time now, and your fans really admire how grounded and humble you are. What’s your secret? What keeps you centered amidst all the success?”

Léon paused, his expression softening. He knew this was coming, and while he was usually private about his personal life, something inside him felt ready to share just a bit more. “Honestly, it’s the people who’ve been with me from the start. My family, of course, but also… someone very special who’s been by my side through everything.”

The interviewer’s eyes lit up, sensing a scoop. “Someone special? Can you tell us more?”

Léon chuckled, glancing down at his hands as if gathering his thoughts. He could picture *Y/N* in his mind—her smile, the way she had always been there for him, from the early days of swim meets to the long nights of training. She was his anchor, his constant in a world that often felt overwhelming.

“Well,” he began, his voice filled with affection, “she’s actually been my best friend since we were kids. We grew up together, and she’s always been my biggest supporter. Over time, that friendship turned into something more, and now, she’s my girlfriend. We’ve kept it private because, well, it’s nice to have something that’s just ours.”

The interviewer tried to keep her composure, but the excitement in her eyes was clear. “This is the first time you’ve mentioned a relationship publicly. How does it feel to share that?”

Léon smiled, a mix of nerves and happiness washing over him. “It feels good, actually. She’s been such a big part of my life, and I think it’s time people know that. But we’re still going to keep most of it private—she deserves that.”

The interviewer nodded, clearly understanding the balance Léon was trying to strike. “Of course. Can you tell us her name?”

Léon grinned, shaking his head slightly. “I think I’ll keep that part to myself for now. But yeah, she’s incredible.”

---

As the interview aired, the internet erupted. Social media platforms lit up with fans reacting to Léon’s quiet confession. For years, there had been speculation about his personal life, but now there was confirmation—and everyone wanted to know more.

Twitter was abuzz with excitement. “Did Léon Marchand just casually drop that he has a girlfriend???” one tweet read. Another user posted, “Léon’s been hiding a whole relationship and we didn’t even know! Who is she?! #LuckyGirl.”

Fans began scouring the internet for clues, dissecting old interviews, and poring over any photo where Léon might have been seen with a girl. They found pictures of him at various events with a childhood friend, a girl who had always been in the background, quietly supporting him. The speculation intensified—could this be the mystery girlfriend?

Instagram was filled with posts tagging Léon, with fans expressing their excitement and curiosity. “We need to know more about her!” one comment demanded. Others were more supportive, understanding why Léon had kept his relationship private. “Respect their privacy, but OMG, I’m so happy for them!” one fan wrote.

Back at their apartment, Léon and *Y/N* sat together on the couch, scrolling through the reactions. *Y/N*’s heart raced as she read the tweets and comments. She had always known this day might come, but seeing it unfold in real time was overwhelming.

“I didn’t think it would blow up this fast,” *Y/N* said, her voice a mix of amazement and anxiety. She looked at Léon, who was calm as ever, his hand resting on her knee.

“I knew people would be curious,” Léon admitted, scrolling through his phone with a small smile. “But I didn’t realize they’d go this crazy.”

*Y/N* chuckled, leaning her head against his shoulder. “You just casually mentioned me on national television, Léon. Of course, they’re going crazy.”

He laughed, wrapping an arm around her. “Yeah, I guess I did. But I’m glad I did. I’m tired of hiding how much you mean to me.”

Her heart swelled at his words, but there was still a part of her that felt nervous. “Are you sure you’re okay with all this? With people digging into our lives?”

Léon turned to her, his expression serious but loving. “I’m more than okay with it. We’ve been through so much together, and I want people to know how important you are to me. But if it ever gets too much, we can handle it. We’ve always done things our way.”

*Y/N* nodded, feeling a bit more reassured. She had always admired Léon’s ability to stay grounded, no matter what life threw at him. And now, she realized, he was offering that same strength to her.

As the night wore on, the buzz online didn’t die down. Fans continued to speculate, creating theories about who *Y/N* was and sharing their excitement over Léon’s revelation. But inside their cozy apartment, Léon and *Y/N* found peace in each other’s company, away from the noise and the frenzy.

“I guess we’re officially out in the open now,” *Y/N* mused, looking up at him with a smile.

Léon grinned, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Yeah, we are. And you know what? I wouldn’t change a thing.”

*Y/N* leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Me neither.”

They spent the rest of the evening wrapped up in each other, the world outside their windows a distant hum compared to the warmth they shared. Léon knew that life would get crazier from here, but as long as he had *Y/N* by his side, he was ready for whatever came next.

And so, as the world buzzed with excitement over Léon Marchand’s quiet confession, the couple at the heart of it all remained steady, secure in the knowledge that no matter what, they would face it together.

I saw you were open for Leon marchabd suggestions are you able to write one where they are both Olympians from France and everyone has been shipping them and thinking they are a couple but they have always denied it and just said they are close friends then when he wins his gold medal the camera cut to him running to celebrate with her and kissing her and later on you see them having to answer questions about it to the media and getting all nervous

✧A Splash Of Gold And Love✧ Léon Marchand x OC

Hello Anon! Thank you for your Ask!. I hope my imagination meets your expectation x

warnings: established couple, both athletes, no prior knowledge to either sport, mature themes, press conference

The crowd at the Olympic Aquatics Center was on its feet, the roar of cheers and applause echoing through the arena. The French team had been holding its breath all evening, knowing this race was different. This was Léon Marchand’s race.

As Léon touched the wall, the world seemed to hold its breath for a moment, waiting for the scoreboard to confirm what everyone already knew. **1st place.** Gold. The time blinked on the screen, and the arena erupted. He had done it. Léon Marchand was an Olympic champion.

Gasping for breath, Léon hoisted himself out of the pool, water streaming down his muscular frame as he struggled to comprehend what had just happened. His vision was a blur of lights, colors, and faces, but one face stood out among them all.

The cameras cut to the stands where Sophie, France’s star diver and Léon’s best friend, was on her feet, screaming in triumph. She was surrounded by their teammates, but her eyes were only on Léon. She had always been his biggest supporter, his rock, and his closest friend. Together, they had shared the grueling highs and lows of their Olympic journeys.

The world had long speculated about their relationship. Articles, social media posts, and even their own teammates had teased them, convinced there was more between them than just friendship. But Léon and Sophie had always laughed it off, insisting they were just friends, bound by a shared passion for their sports.

But tonight was different.

Without thinking, Léon bolted from the pool deck, his legs pumping beneath him as he sprinted toward Sophie. He heard the gasps of the crowd, felt the eyes of millions watching, but none of it mattered. She mattered.

In a flash, he was in front of her, her wide eyes searching his, and then, before he could second-guess himself, he kissed her. It was soft, almost tentative at first, then deeper, full of all the emotions they had kept hidden for so long. The arena around them seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of them in that moment, as if the world had stopped spinning.

The crowd went wild. The cameras zoomed in, capturing the scene as the commentators tried to process what they were seeing. Léon and Sophie pulled away, their foreheads resting against each other’s, both of them breathless, but for different reasons now.

“I guess we can’t deny it anymore,” Sophie whispered, her voice shaking slightly as she tried to process what just happened.

“Not a chance,” Léon replied, grinning like a fool.

---

Later that evening, they sat together at the press conference, the bright lights and flashing cameras making them feel more exposed than they ever had in competition. Léon’s gold medal hung around his neck, but it was the questions about their kiss that dominated the room.

“So, are you two officially a couple now?” one reporter asked, a knowing smile on her face.

Sophie’s breath hitched as she glanced at Léon. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her palms were sweating. She hadn’t expected this. This was different from diving off a 10-meter platform into a pool; this was diving headfirst into something unknown and very public.

Léon, sensing her nerves, gave her hand a reassuring squeeze under the table. “We, uh…” he started, but Sophie’s mind was racing too fast to process his words. She could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on her, waiting for her response.

“We, um…” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes,” she finally managed to say, her face flushed. She felt like a deer caught in the headlights, her usually calm demeanor nowhere to be found. “We are… a couple,” she added, her words stumbling over each other as she tried to keep her composure.

The room buzzed with excitement, cameras flashing as more questions were thrown at them. Léon chuckled softly, the tension breaking as he looked at Sophie with pure affection. “You’ve all been right this whole time,” he admitted, trying to take some of the pressure off her. “We’ve been denying it for so long, but tonight, I guess we couldn’t hold it in any longer.”

Sophie nodded along, her hand gripping his tightly under the table as if it were her lifeline. The press conference continued, but Sophie’s mind was a blur. She answered questions with as much poise as she could muster, but every now and then, her voice would waver, her nerves getting the best of her.

As the night wore on, and the questions finally subsided, Léon leaned over to Sophie and whispered in her ear, “You did great.”

Sophie let out a shaky breath, leaning into him, the cameras catching every second of the moment. “I was so nervous,” she confessed, her voice trembling.

Léon smiled, his arm slipping around her shoulders to pull her closer. “I know, but we’re in this together now. We’ve been a team for so long, and now, we’re going to be the best team of all.”

Sophie smiled back, a little more confidently this time. “Together,” she said softly, “we’ll take on the world.”

And with that, they stepped out of the spotlight, ready to face whatever came next—together.

hiii!! this is request for my bestfriend who’s totally smitten over Léon LMAOOO. sooo her name is Léa ( she’s also french ) and she would looooooove a friends to lovers with Léon.I hope it’s okay for you to write about this 🥰 I think she also follows you on here HAHAHA

✧Colours of the water✧ ─

Léon Marchand x Female! Reader, X OC (Léa)

Hello Anon (and Léa), This was absolutely okay to write, it was super long, I would be a liar if I didn't say I got carried away... Enjoy!

Warnings: Stranger, friends to lovers, school, no prior knowledge of being an artists nor swimmer, oc, heated kisses. let me know if i missed any x

Léa’s fingers smudged the edge of her canvas, blending shades of blue into a deeper, more vibrant hue. The art studio at Lycée Ozenne in Toulouse was alive with quiet chatter, the scratch of pencils on paper, and the occasional exclamation of triumph or frustration from her fellow students. It was a sanctuary for Léa, a place where the outside world melted away and she could lose herself in her art.

Today, her canvas was dominated by swirling blues and greens, a depiction of the ocean that was both peaceful and turbulent, much like her thoughts. She was drawing from memory—images of the Mediterranean Sea from a family trip the summer before, the way the water had seemed to stretch endlessly, a shimmering canvas of its own. But there was more to it than that. The water in her painting wasn’t just the sea; it was infused with something deeper, more personal—a reflection of her growing fascination with the element, and with someone who seemed to belong to it.

She glanced down at her sketchbook, open beside her on the workbench. It was filled with studies of water, of movement, of light playing on surfaces. And then, almost unconsciously, her hand had started sketching him—Léon Marchand, the star of the school’s swim team, the boy who cut through water as if he were born to it. Page after page of her sketchbook bore his image: the curve of his muscles, the determined line of his jaw, the intense focus in his eyes when he was in the pool. It had started as an artist’s fascination with movement and form, but Léa knew it had become something more.

“Another day of Léa’s blue period?” teased Nancy, her best friend and fellow art student, as she leaned over to take a look at Léa’s canvas. Nancy’s voice was light, but there was a knowing edge to it.

Léa chuckled softly, trying to dismiss the question. “I guess I’m just drawn to the color. There’s something about it that feels… calming, like the ocean.”

Nancy raised an eyebrow, her expression sly. “Or maybe it’s because of all the time you spend watching the swim team practice.”

Léa felt the heat rush to her cheeks, and she quickly looked away, focusing on her painting with renewed intensity. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Nancy laughed, not unkindly. “Sure you don’t. You just happen to stroll by the pool every day after classes. It’s purely a coincidence that the team practices then, right?”

Léa couldn’t suppress a smile, even as she shook her head. Nancy wasn’t wrong, but Léa wasn’t ready to admit it out loud. There was something about watching Léon swim that captivated her. The way he moved through the water, so effortlessly, as if he was more at home there than on land, drew her in. And though she told herself it was just an artist’s fascination with movement, she knew deep down it was more than that.

“He’s talented,” Léa finally admitted, as she added another brushstroke to her painting. The water in her landscape was beginning to take shape, with swirling currents and hidden depths.

Nancy tilted her head, studying her friend with a mischievous grin. “Talented? Léa, the guy is practically a fish. I’ve seen you sketching him in your notebook. Don’t try to deny it.”

Léa bit her lip, caught in the act. She had indeed filled pages of her sketchbook with quick, rough sketches of Léon—his powerful strokes, the curve of his back as he dove into the water, the intensity in his eyes as he focused on the end of the pool. Each sketch was a study in motion, in the way his body seemed to meld with the water, becoming one fluid, unstoppable force.

“He’s just… interesting to draw,” Léa said, a little defensively. “There’s so much energy in the way he moves. It’s like he becomes one with the water.”

Nancy smiled gently, sensing that there was more to Léa’s interest than just an artist’s fascination with movement. “Maybe you should talk to him.”

Léa shook her head quickly, her stomach flipping at the mere thought. “No, no. I’m sure he doesn’t even know I exist.”

Nancy tilted her head, thinking. “You never know. I mean, he might surprise you. Plus, you’ve been drawing him for weeks. Maybe it’s time to take the next step.”

Léa considered this, her heart fluttering at the thought of actually speaking to Léon. But she quickly dismissed it. Léon Marchand was popular, always surrounded by his teammates and friends. He probably had no idea who she was, just another face in the crowd.

But that didn’t stop her from thinking about him. When she wasn’t working on her art, she found herself daydreaming about what it would be like to talk to him, to get to know him. There was something about his quiet intensity that intrigued her, something that made her want to understand what went on behind those focused, determined eyes.

With a sigh, Léa set down her brush and wiped her hands on a rag. “I should probably get going,” she said, glancing at the clock. “I have to walk by the pool on my way home, and I’d rather not run into the team.”

Nancy grinned. “Oh, sure. You wouldn’t want to accidentally bump into Léon or anything.”

Léa rolled her eyes, but there was a smile on her lips. “See you tomorrow, Nancy.”

As she packed up her supplies and slung her bag over her shoulder, Léa couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. Maybe Nancy was right. Maybe she should take a chance, step out of her comfort zone. After all, art was about taking risks, about exploring the unknown.

And who knew? Maybe there was more to Léon Marchand than just swimming.

***

Léa walked through the campus, her thoughts swirling as she tried to shake off the conversation with Nancy. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the grounds. The cool evening air was a welcome change from the stuffy art studio, and Léa took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air.

As she neared the pool, she could hear the faint sounds of splashing and the rhythmic calls of the coach. The swim team was still practicing, their dedication evident in the long hours they put in. Léa hesitated, considering taking a different route, but something stopped her. Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was the small voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Nancy’s, urging her to take a chance.

She found herself walking closer to the pool, her footsteps slowing as she neared the fence that surrounded it. Through the gaps in the chain-link, she could see the swimmers cutting through the water, their movements powerful and precise. And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, her eyes found Léon.

He was in the middle of a lap, his body slicing through the water with an ease that took her breath away. Léa watched, captivated, as he reached the end of the pool and flipped underwater, pushing off the wall with a burst of energy. For a moment, it was as if time slowed, and all she could see was the water swirling around him, the play of light on his skin, the sheer power and grace in his movements.

And then, as if sensing her gaze, Léon looked up.

Their eyes met, and Léa’s breath caught in her throat. For a split second, she considered turning and walking away, pretending she hadn’t been staring. But something in his expression stopped her. There was no irritation, no annoyance—just a hint of curiosity.

Léon pulled himself out of the pool, water streaming off his body as he grabbed a towel and wiped his face. He said something to his coach, who nodded, and then, to Léa’s surprise, he started walking toward her.

Panic surged through her. What was she supposed to say? What was he going to say? But before she could make up her mind to flee, Léon was standing in front of her, towel draped over his shoulders, his dark hair dripping water onto the pavement.

“Hi,” he said, his voice warm and surprisingly soft. “You’re Léa, right? From art class?”

Léa blinked, taken aback. “Uh, yeah. How did you…?”

Léon smiled, a small, boyish grin that made her heart skip a beat. “I’ve seen you around. Plus, Nancy is in my history class. She mentioned you once or twice.”

Léa mentally cursed Nancy and her big mouth but managed a small smile. “I didn’t realize you knew who I was.”

“Of course I do,” Léon said, his tone casual, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “You’re always sketching near the pool. You’re really talented.”

Léa felt her cheeks heat up again, and she ducked her head, suddenly shy. “Thanks. I, um, didn’t think anyone noticed.”

Léon chuckled, a deep, rich sound that made her stomach flip. “Hard not to

..

Certainly! Here's an extended version of **Chapter 2: Unexpected Encounters**. I'll focus on building Léa and Léon's friendship through more detailed interactions, shared moments, and the beginning of a deeper connection. This chapter will delve into their budding relationship, highlighting how their shared interests and differences draw them closer.

---

The warmth of Léon’s smile lingered in Léa’s mind long after she left the pool that evening. As she walked home, her thoughts kept drifting back to their conversation. It had been brief, but it was enough to ignite something inside her—something that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. Léon Marchand, the school’s swimming prodigy, had not only noticed her but had also complimented her art. And what was more, he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know her.

The next day, Léa found herself replaying the encounter in her head as she sat in her morning classes. Her teachers’ voices became a distant hum as she sketched absentmindedly in the margins of her notebook. Little doodles of water droplets, waves, and even a rough sketch of Léon swimming filled the pages. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she barely noticed the bell ringing, signaling the end of the period.

It wasn’t until Nancy nudged her that Léa snapped out of her daydream. “You’re really out of it today,” Nancy said, her tone laced with curiosity. “Did something happen last night after you left the studio?”

Léa hesitated for a moment before deciding to tell Nancy the truth. After all, Nancy had been the one encouraging her to make a move. “I… I actually talked to Léon yesterday.”

Nancy’s eyes widened in surprise. “You what? No way! What did he say? How did it happen?”

Léa blushed at the excitement in Nancy’s voice. “It wasn’t a big deal. He just… recognized me and came over to say hi. He said he’s seen me around and that he thinks I’m talented.”

“Of course he thinks you’re talented,” Nancy said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “But still, that’s huge, Léa! Did you talk about anything else?”

Léa nodded, though she wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the conversation. “He said he’d like to see more of my work. I guess… I guess he’s interested in art?”

Nancy’s grin widened. “See? I told you! He’s into you, Léa. This is your chance. You should invite him to the studio, show him what you’re working on.”

Léa’s heart fluttered at the idea, but the thought of spending more time with Léon also made her nervous. “I don’t know… What if he’s just being polite?”

Nancy shook her head, undeterred. “Trust me, guys don’t go out of their way to compliment a girl’s art unless they’re genuinely interested. You should totally take him up on it.”

Despite her nerves, Léa couldn’t deny the thrill of the possibility. Maybe Nancy was right. Maybe Léon’s interest was more than just casual curiosity. And maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something new.

***

After school, Léa found herself heading toward the art studio with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. She had spent the entire day trying to muster the courage to approach Léon again, and now that the moment was here, her stomach was in knots. What if he didn’t remember their conversation? Or worse, what if he had changed his mind?

She reached the art studio and hesitated at the door, her hand hovering over the handle. Just as she was about to push it open, a voice called out from behind her.

“Léa!”

She turned around to see Léon jogging toward her, a bright smile on his face. He was still dressed in his school uniform, but his hair was slightly damp, as if he had just come from the pool.

“Hey,” Léa said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Were you looking for me?”

Léon nodded, coming to a stop in front of her. “Yeah, I was hoping to catch you before you went home. I wanted to see if I could check out your art, like we talked about yesterday.”

Léa’s heart skipped a beat. He had remembered. “Oh, sure! I was just heading in to work on something. You’re welcome to join me.”

Léon’s smile widened. “Great! I’ve never actually been inside the art studio before.”

Léa pushed open the door, leading Léon into the spacious room filled with easels, canvases, and art supplies. The familiar smell of paint and charcoal greeted them, and Léa felt a sense of comfort wash over her. This was her space, her sanctuary, and sharing it with someone else—especially someone like Léon—felt both intimate and exciting.

“This is where the magic happens,” Léa said with a shy smile as she guided him to her workspace. Her canvas from the day before was still propped up on the easel, the swirling ocean scene halfway complete.

Léon’s eyes widened as he took in the painting. “Wow, Léa. This is amazing. The way you’ve captured the movement of the water… it’s almost like you can feel it.”

Léa’s cheeks flushed with pride. “Thank you. Water has always fascinated me—the way it moves, the way it reflects light. It’s challenging to capture, but it’s also really rewarding.”

Léon nodded, his gaze still fixed on the painting. “I can see that. It’s like the water is alive, almost like it has a personality.”

Léa smiled, appreciating his thoughtful observation. “That’s exactly what I was going for. Water is so dynamic, so full of life. I wanted to show that in my work.”

Léon turned to her, his expression sincere. “You’ve definitely succeeded. I’m really impressed, Léa. You have a gift.”

Léa looked down, feeling a bit overwhelmed by his praise. “I’m just doing what I love.”

“And it shows,” Léon said softly.

They stood in silence for a moment, the air between them filled with unspoken words. Léa could feel her heart beating faster, and she wondered if Léon felt it too—this strange, new connection that was forming between them.

“So, do you have any other pieces you’re working on?” Léon asked, breaking the silence.

Léa nodded, eager to share more of her work with him. “Yeah, I’ve got a few sketches in my notebook. They’re not finished, but you’re welcome to take a look.”

She reached for her sketchbook, flipping it open to a page filled with rough drawings of water—waves crashing against rocks, raindrops falling on a pond, a river winding through a forest. And there, among the sketches, were the drawings of Léon swimming, his form fluid and powerful.

Léon’s eyes lit up as he recognized himself in the sketches. “Are these… me?”

Léa blushed, feeling a little self-conscious. “Yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I’ve been watching the swim team practice, and I just… found your movements really inspiring.”

“Mind?” Léon said, his voice filled with awe. “Léa, these are incredible. I had no idea anyone was paying that much attention to what I do in the pool.”

Léa smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “You make it look so easy, like you’re one with the water. I couldn’t help but be inspired.”

Léon looked at her, his gaze intense. “I’m flattered. Really. No one’s ever seen me that way before.”

Léa’s heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice. She could see now that Léon wasn’t just being polite—he genuinely appreciated her work, and that made her feel more confident in her abilities than ever before.

They spent the next hour talking about art and swimming, sharing stories about their passions and the challenges they faced. Léa learned that Léon had been swimming since he was a child, following in the footsteps of his parents who were both accomplished athletes. He told her about the pressure he felt to live up to their expectations and how he found solace in the water, where everything else seemed to fade away.

In return, Léa shared her own struggles with self-doubt, how she sometimes questioned whether her art was good enough, and how she often felt overshadowed by the more extroverted students in the art program. Léon listened intently, offering words of encouragement that made her feel understood and appreciated in a way she hadn’t experienced before.

By the time they left the studio, the sun had set, and the campus was bathed in the soft glow of twilight. Léa and Léon walked side by side, their conversation continuing easily, as if they had known each other for years instead of just a few days.

As they reached the edge of the campus where their paths would diverge, Léa felt a pang of disappointment. She didn’t want the evening to end, didn’t want to say goodbye to this new, exciting connection they had forged.

“Thanks for showing me your art, Léa,” Léon said, his voice warm. “I had a great time.”

“Me too,” Léa replied, smiling up at him. “I’m glad you came. It was nice getting to know you better.”

Léon hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say something more. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, “Would you maybe want to hang out again sometime? I’d love to see more of you”

..

---

The days that followed their shared evening in the art studio were a blur of stolen glances, whispered conversations, and a growing tension that neither Léa nor Léon could ignore. What had started as a simple interest in each other’s passions had evolved into something deeper, something neither of them was quite ready to put into words.

But they didn’t need words. Their connection spoke for itself in the small moments—the way Léa’s heart raced whenever she saw Léon waiting for her outside the studio, or the way Léon’s eyes would light up whenever he caught sight of her in the hallway. They began spending more time together, finding excuses to meet after classes, whether it was to walk home together, take a stroll through the nearby park, or simply talk about everything and nothing at all.

One Friday evening, Léon invited Léa to the pool after hours, when the swim team had finished practice, and the place was quiet. It was a bold move, and one that had Léa’s heart pounding as she agreed. The idea of being alone with Léon in the dimly lit pool area, with nothing but the sound of water lapping at the edges, was both thrilling and terrifying.

Léa arrived at the pool to find Léon already there, sitting on the edge with his feet dangling in the water. The overhead lights cast a soft glow over the surface, creating rippling reflections that danced on the walls. He looked up as she approached, his face breaking into a smile that made her stomach flutter.

“Hey,” he greeted her, his voice echoing softly in the large space.

“Hey,” Léa replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she walked over to join him. She sat down beside him, her legs folded beneath her as she dipped a hand into the cool water.

For a moment, they simply sat there in comfortable silence, the tension between them palpable. Léa could feel the warmth radiating from Léon’s body, the proximity sending her senses into overdrive. She had never been this close to him before, and the awareness of his presence was almost overwhelming.

“Do you ever get tired of the water?” Léa asked suddenly, her voice breaking the stillness.

Léon glanced at her, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Sometimes. But it’s also where I feel most at peace. It’s like… everything else fades away when I’m in the water. The pressure, the expectations, the noise. It all just disappears.”

Léa nodded, understanding all too well what he meant. She felt something similar when she was painting, when she could lose herself in the strokes of her brush and the colors on her canvas. But there was more to it than that, something deeper that she couldn’t quite put into words.

“It must be nice,” she said softly, “to have something that makes everything else disappear.”

Léon’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, his expression intense, as if he was searching for something in her words. “It is,” he replied, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But I think I’ve found something else that does that too.”

Léa’s heart skipped a beat at the way he was looking at her, the meaning behind his words clear. She felt a rush of emotions—fear, excitement, anticipation—all mingling together in a heady mix that left her breathless.

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, Léon reached out, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. The touch was soft, tentative, as if he was testing the waters, but it sent a shiver down her spine all the same.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do that,” Léon murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

Léa’s breath caught in her throat, her pulse racing. “Léon…”

But he didn’t let her finish. In one fluid motion, he closed the distance between them, his lips finding hers in a kiss that was both gentle and demanding, as if he had been holding back for far too long and couldn’t wait another second.

Léa’s eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into the kiss, her hand coming up to rest on Léon’s chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath her fingertips. The world around them seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of them, the warmth of his lips against hers, and the sensation of his arms wrapping around her, pulling her closer.

The kiss deepened, the initial hesitancy giving way to a growing hunger as they lost themselves in each other. Léa had never felt anything like this before—this intense, overwhelming need to be closer to him, to feel every part of him. It was as if something had been unlocked inside her, something she hadn’t even known was there, and now it was impossible to ignore.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to steady themselves. Léa’s eyes fluttered open to find Léon staring at her, his gaze filled with a mixture of surprise and something deeper, something that made her heart skip another beat.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” Léon admitted, his voice low and rough with emotion.

Léa couldn’t help but smile, her own feelings mirrored in his words. “Me too.”

For a moment, they just sat there, caught up in the intensity of the moment, neither of them wanting to break the spell. But eventually, Léon pulled back slightly, his hand still cupping her cheek.

“I want to see you again, Léa. More than just at school or in the studio. I want to spend more time with you… outside of all this,” he said, his voice full of sincerity.

Léa’s heart swelled at his words, a warmth spreading through her chest. “I’d like that too, Léon.”

He smiled, a real, genuine smile that made her feel like she was floating. “Good. How about tomorrow? We could go to the park, take a walk, and just… talk. Get to know each other better.”

Léa nodded, excitement bubbling up inside her at the thought of spending more time with him. “That sounds perfect.”

They lingered for a while longer, neither of them quite ready to leave the moment behind. Eventually, they stood up, their hands brushing against each other as they made their way out of the pool area, the tension between them now tinged with something new—hope, anticipation, and the beginnings of a deeper connection.

***

The next day, the sun was shining brightly as Léa made her way to the park where she had agreed to meet Léon. The air was crisp with the scent of autumn leaves, and the sky was a brilliant shade of blue. It was the perfect day for a walk, but Léa’s mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of Léon to fully appreciate the beauty of her surroundings.

She spotted him almost immediately, leaning against a tree near the entrance to the park, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he watched her approach. The sight of him made her heart skip a beat, just like it always did, but there was something different today—something that made her feel both excited and nervous all at once.

“Hey,” Léon greeted her with a smile as she walked up to him.

“Hey,” Léa replied, her own smile mirroring his.

They started walking side by side, the path winding through the park shaded by the tall trees overhead. The conversation was easy, flowing naturally as they talked about everything from their favorite books to their plans for the future. Léa found herself opening up to him in a way she hadn’t with anyone else, sharing her hopes, her dreams, and even her fears.

Léon listened attentively, his responses thoughtful and sincere. He shared his own dreams with her—his desire to one day compete in the Olympics, his love for swimming, and how he sometimes felt trapped by the expectations that came with being a prodigy. Léa could see the passion in his eyes when he talked about swimming, but also the weight of the pressure he was under.

“I know what it’s like to feel like you have to live up to other people’s expectations,” Léa said softly as they sat down on a bench overlooking a small pond. “It can be overwhelming, especially when it feels like no matter what you do, it’s never enough.”

Léon looked at her, his expression intense. “Exactly. It’s like… everyone expects me to be this perfect athlete, to always win, to never make a mistake. But sometimes I just want to swim because I love it, not because I have to prove something.”

Léa reached out, placing her hand on his. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Léon. You’re already amazing, just as you are.”

Léon’s eyes softened at her words, and he turned his hand over to intertwine his fingers with hers. “Thank you, Léa. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

They sat there in comfortable silence for a while, their hands still clasped together, both of them lost in their own thoughts. The connection between them had grown stronger, the spark that had been there from the beginning now fanned into a flame that was impossible to ignore.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the park, Léon turned to Léa, his gaze searching. “Léa, I don’t want to rush things, but… I really like you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

Léa.

Hi! I saw that you were making fanfics about Leon Marchand. Maybe you can make one where the reader is a very anxious person and he comforts her before her olympic competion (you can choose any sport you want). And she end up winning and After gotten her medal, she just hug him ? (Sorry if i made any mistakes, english is not my first language) I don't have any oc but can you make the reader be in the estonian team ! Thanks you and i hope you have a great day/night !

✧✧✧ ─ Calm Before the Storm

Léon Marchand X Female!Reader

Hello my dearie, I hope you're well. I have chosen gymnastics if that's alright, I liked going for the super Fluff. Enjoy Mwah!

Warnings: Fluff, No knowledge of Olympic Village going ons, Friendship, I have NO Gymnastics knowledge, Mature themes.

The familiar hum of the arena buzzed around you, the sound of spectators, coaches, and the occasional outburst of applause echoing through the corridors. The rhythmic beats of your heart were louder, though, pounding in your ears as you sat on a bench in the warm-up area. Your hands trembled as you tried to take deep breaths, your mind racing with the what-ifs and the weight of the moment. The Olympic Games—your Olympic Games—were at their peak, and you were minutes away from the most important performance of your life.

Representing Estonia was a dream come true, but the pressure was crushing. You’d trained your entire life for this, yet now, with everything on the line, the anxiety was threatening to consume you.

“Hey,” a familiar voice cut through the fog of your thoughts.

You looked up to see Léon Marchand standing there, his swim cap still in hand, a gold medal already draped around his neck from his event earlier that day. He smiled, that easy, reassuring grin that you’d come to rely on during these stressful days in the Olympic Village.

“Léon,” you managed to say, though your voice wavered.

He sat down beside you, close but not too close, giving you the space you needed. “You looked like you could use a friend right about now.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “I just... I can’t seem to calm down. What if I mess up? What if...”

“Hey, hey, slow down,” Léon interrupted softly, placing a hand on your knee. “Take a deep breath with me.”

You tried to follow his lead, inhaling deeply, though your breath hitched halfway. He noticed and smiled softly, waiting until you tried again. This time, it was a little easier.

“Look,” he said, his tone steady, “I know how you’re feeling. Maybe not the exact same way, but I’ve been there. Everyone here has. This is the Olympics. It’s supposed to be overwhelming, but it’s also supposed to be the moment you’ve been dreaming about. You’re ready for this. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

His words were a balm, slowly easing the tension that had wound itself tight around your chest. You focused on his calm demeanor, the way he spoke as if this were just another day, another competition, not the pinnacle of your career.

“Remember when we talked about why you love gymnastics?” he continued, his voice gentle. “You told me it’s about the feeling of flying, of losing yourself in the movement. It’s about the freedom. Don’t let the pressure take that away from you. This is your moment to do what you love.”

You nodded, the knot in your stomach beginning to loosen. “But what if I fail?”

“And what if you don’t?” he countered. “What if this is the best performance of your life? Either way, you’re going out there and giving it everything. That’s all you can do. And no matter what happens, you’ve already made your country proud. You’ve made me proud.”

His words sank in, anchoring you to the moment. You took another deep breath, steadier this time, and felt the panic recede, leaving determination in its place.

“I guess you’re right,” you said, offering a small smile.

“I’m always right,” Léon teased, earning a soft laugh from you. “Now go out there and show them what you’ve got. I’ll be watching.”

With one last reassuring squeeze of your knee, he stood, offering you a hand to help you up. You took it, feeling a renewed sense of confidence as you rose to your feet.

As you walked towards the arena, the noise of the crowd grew louder, but instead of being overwhelming, it now felt like a distant hum, something separate from the clarity in your mind. You turned back to Léon, who gave you a thumbs-up and a wink before disappearing into the sea of athletes and coaches.

The competition itself felt like a blur, each movement ingrained in muscle memory, each routine executed with a precision you hadn’t felt in years. When you finished, the crowd erupted in applause, but it wasn’t until you saw your scores flash on the screen—scores high enough to secure a medal—that it truly hit you.

You’d done it.

Later, standing on the podium with a medal around your neck, the national anthem of Estonia playing in the background, you searched the crowd. When you found Léon, he was grinning, pride shining in his eyes.

As soon as the ceremony ended, you bolted off the podium and straight into his arms. He caught you easily, laughing as you buried your face in his chest, the reality of what you’d just accomplished sinking in.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

“For what?” he asked, pulling back slightly to look at you.

“For believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

Léon smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Always.”

And in that moment, you knew that no matter where your career took you next, you’d never face it alone.

I want and I need a Leon M. passionnate and sensual smut with a fem!reader. I want a plot of course but u can decide which one

love u and thanks 🩷

✧Even a clock must stop✧ ─ Léon Marchand x OC, Safi, Léon Marchand x !Black Reader

@safi03, GIRL GET READY!! There is so much SMUT. Get ready to get rowdy!! super glad to have a deep chat to get this fic PERFECT!! Enjoy, as I certainly did!

Warnings: SMUT,SMUT!! Enemies to lovers, dirty talk, PNV, Watersports, Mature Themes, Rough scenes, 18+, Minors DNI.

ENJOY!

Leon emerged from the pool, his muscles rippling with water droplets that caught the artificial light. He glared at the clock, irritation seeping into his bones. Training had gone on longer than expected, and his rival, Safi, had once again outswum him. As the university's star swimmers, their competition was the talk of the entire sports department.

Safi strutted over, her long, toned legs barely touching the wet tiles. Her dark hair was slicked back, revealing a smug smile that never failed to grate on his nerves. "Looks like you're going to need to put in some extra laps tonight, Leon," she taunted, her voice dripping with sweet victory.

Leon's jaw clenched as he toweled off. "You just got lucky, Safi," he retorted, tossing the towel onto the bench with a bit more force than necessary. "I'll beat you next time."

Their coach, a stern woman with a sharp tongue, called them over for feedback. They listened, exchanging glances that spoke volumes of their mutual disdain. Safi's eyes narrowed, her full lips pursed in concentration as she took in every word. Leon's posture was rigid, his arms crossed tightly across his broad chest.

The tension between them was palpable, a silent battle of wills. They both knew that their rivalry was the key to pushing each other to greatness, but it also meant they couldn't stand to be in the same room without sniping at one another.

Leon couldn't ignore the way Safi's eyes followed him as he moved, the way her gaze lingered on his physique. It was infuriating, and yet, a part of him reveled in the attention. He was aware of her attraction to him, and it fueled his desire to best her in every way possible.

Safi felt the same, her body reacting to his nearness with a heat she couldn't explain. Her hatred for him was as potent as the lust simmering just beneath the surface. Every time he looked at her, she felt exposed, vulnerable, and it made her want to win even more.

The coach's words grew fainter as their silent exchange grew more intense. The air thickened with unspoken desires, a dance of aggression and attraction that neither of them could resist. Without warning, Safi leaned in, her voice a seductive whisper, "If you're so sure you can beat me, why don't we settle it now?"

Leon's eyes snapped to hers, surprise and challenge warring within. "You're on," he said, the words leaving his mouth before he could think better of it.

They made their way back to the pool, the water a stark contrast to the heat of their rivalry. The chlorine scent grew stronger as they approached the edge, the echoes of their footsteps bouncing off the tiles. The atmosphere was charged, a heady mix of adrenaline and something else entirely.

Without a word, they dove in, their bodies slicing through the water with a grace that belied their mutual contempt. The race was on, and it was more than just for pride. It was a battle of wills, of dominance, of desire. Every stroke brought them closer, every kick of their legs a silent declaration of war.

Their eyes met across the water, the blue of Leon's burning into the brown of Safi's. The hatred was there, but so was something else, something primal and undeniable. The race was tight, their bodies gliding through the water like sharks hunting prey. The air grew thick with the anticipation of their inevitable collision.

As they reached the final stretch, Safi's hand touched the edge of the pool first, but only just. Leon's hand was a mere inch away, the tension in his body a coil ready to snap. They both knew this was far from over.

They surfaced, panting and glowing with exertion. Safi's eyes glinted with something that was definitely not just triumph. "Looks like I still have the upper hand," she murmured, her voice low and taunting.

Leon couldn't argue. He was so close to victory, so close to finally shutting her up, but she had once again bested him. He felt the anger boiling in his chest, but it was accompanied by a strange feeling of excitement, a thrill that was definitely not anger.

They climbed out of the pool, water streaming down their bodies, mingling together in a way that was almost intimate. The air was electric, the tension a living entity that danced between them.

Leon stepped closer, so close that their bodies almost touched. "This isn't over," he breathed, his voice a growl.

Safi's smile was a challenge. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

And with that, they turned and stalked off to their separate locker rooms, the echoes of their footsteps a promise of what was to come. The night was still young, and their rivalry was about to take a very steamy turn.

Leon's frustration grew as he peeled off his wet swimsuit. He couldn't shake the feeling of Safi's eyes on him, the way she had looked at him with something other than contempt. It was as if she had seen right through his bravado and found the raw need beneath.

In the locker room, Safi felt the same. Her body hummed with energy, her pulse racing from the adrenaline of the race and the undeniable attraction to her enemy. She knew she had pushed him, and she liked it.

As they both stepped under the hot showers, the water cascading over their taut muscles, they couldn't help but imagine the other's hands instead. The heat of the water did little to cool the fire that had been kindled between them.

Their paths crossed again as they were both leaving the locker room, towels wrapped around their waists. Safi's eyes traveled over Leon's toned body, and she licked her lips, unable to tear her gaze away. Leon caught the gesture and smirked, feeling a thrill of power.

"Looks like you can't get enough of losing," he said, stepping closer, their bodies almost brushing.

Safi's eyes flashed. "I don't lose," she countered, her voice low and dangerous.

Without another word, Leon reached out and grabbed the edge of her towel, pulling it away in one swift motion. Safi gasped, her eyes wide with surprise and something else.

Leon's smirk grew as he took in the sight of her naked body, her skin flushed from the shower and the heat of their encounter. "Care to make a wager?" he asked, his voice husky with desire.

Safi stepped closer, her own towel dropping to the floor. "You're on," she whispered, her voice filled with a challenge that was now tinged with lust.

Their bodies collided, the hatred and passion merging into a fiery embrace. Hands roamed, exploring the contours of muscles honed from years of competition. Lips crashed together, teeth clashed, and tongues danced in a battle of dominance.

The sound of the showers faded into the background as they kissed, their bodies pressed so tightly that it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. The steam enveloped them, a physical manifestation of the heat that had been simmering for so long.

Their kiss grew more frantic, their hands moving with a purpose that had nothing to do with swimming and everything to do with claiming what they had both denied themselves for too long. The rivalry had turned into something else entirely, something they hadn't seen coming but couldn't resist.

As the night went on, the line between love and hate grew blurrier, their actions speaking louder than any words could. They had crossed a threshold, and there was no going back. The pool, once a battleground, had become a playground for their most primal desires.

Their bodies moved in a rhythm that had nothing to do with the strokes they used in the water and everything to do with the passion that had been building between them. The tension that had fueled their rivalry now fueled their passion, a potent mix that left them both gasping for breath.

In the harsh light of the locker room, their bodies tangled together, they found themselves in a race of a different kind, one that had no clear winner or loser, only the sweet release of giving in to what they had both been fighting for so long.

And as the water rained down on them, mingling with their sighs and moans, they realized that perhaps their rivalry was never just about swimming. It was about this, about the raw, intense connection that had been there from the start, just waiting for the right moment to ignite.

Leon's hands gripped Safi's hips, pulling her against him as he claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss. She could feel his hardness pressing against her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him closer. The sound of their bodies slapping together echoed in the tiles, a symphony of desire that only the two of them could understand.

"You're mine," he growled, his teeth grazing her ear. "Say it."

"Never," she panted, her nails digging into his back. "I'm no one's but my own."

Their words were like gasoline on a fire, driving them both wild with need. He took her challenge, his hands roaming her body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Safi arched into his touch, her breasts bouncing against his chest as he squeezed and pinched her nipples.

"Fuck," she cursed, the word a breathy plea that sent a shiver down his spine. He dropped his towel, his erection standing proud and demanding. Safi's eyes locked on it, a mix of hunger and defiance.

"You want it," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. "Say you want it."

"I want you to make me scream," she shot back, her voice filled with the same need that was driving him mad.

Leon didn't need any further encouragement. He positioned himself at her entrance, the tip of his cock nudging against her slick folds. "Ready to lose?" he taunted, his eyes gleaming with lust.

Safi's response was to tighten her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Ready to make me yours?" she countered, her voice a sultry dare.

With a roar, Leon slammed into her, the force of his thrust pushing her back against the cold tiles. Safi gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head as pleasure shot through her. They moved together, their bodies speaking a language that had nothing to do with words and everything to do with need.

Their dirty talk grew more heated, a back-and-forth of taunts and demands that only served to drive them higher. They were lost in each other, their rivalry now a dance of passion that neither could resist.

Leon's hands found her breasts, kneading them roughly as he thrust into her. Safi's nails scored down his back, leaving a trail of red that only made him more wild. "Harder," she begged, her voice a whip that urged him on.

He obliged, his strokes becoming more intense, more demanding. Safi's legs tightened around him, her heels digging into his ass as she met him thrust for thrust. The water beat down on them, turning their skin slick and their movements frantic.

Their bodies were a blur of motion, their breaths harsh and uneven. The tension grew, coiling tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable. They were so close, so close to the edge.

"Come for me," Leon ground out, his voice thick with desire. "Prove to me you want this as much as I do."

Safi's eyes snapped open, meeting his with a fiery intensity. "Fuck you," she spat, and with that, she shattered around him, her orgasm ripping through her like a tidal wave. Leon followed her over the edge, his own release a roar that echoed through the locker room.

As they stood there, panting and spent, the water cascading over them, they knew that nothing would ever be the same again. The line between love and hate had been irrevocably blurred, and they had no choice but to embrace the chaos that came with it.

Leon leaned his forehead against Safi's, his breaths coming in ragged pants. "This changes nothing," he murmured, trying to convince himself as much as her.

Safi's eyes searched his, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Everything," she corrected, her voice low and filled with a satisfaction that went beyond the physical.

They dressed in silence, the tension between them thick and heavy. They both knew that their secret tryst would only add fuel to their rivalry, but they couldn't deny the connection that had been forged in the heat of their passion.

The following days were a dance of avoidance and longing. They pushed each other harder in the pool, the unspoken challenge in every stroke. Yet, every time their eyes met, there was a spark, a promise of what awaited them when the lights were off and the water was still.

Their next encounter came sooner than either had expected. After a particularly grueling practice, the pool was empty, and the rest of the team had retreated to the showers. Safi leaned against the side, her eyes locked on Leon as he approached, his muscles rippling with the effort of his final laps.

"You're still thinking about it, aren't you?" she purred, her voice echoing in the vast space.

Leon didn't bother to feign ignorance. "Every. Fucking. Second."

Without another word, she slipped back into the water, her body gliding through the ripples like a siren's call. He followed, his need for her overriding any sense of propriety.

Under the water, their bodies met again, the cool liquid caressing their heated skin. The kiss was as explosive as the first, their tongues battling for dominance as their hands roamed and claimed.

This time, there was no pretense of a race, no wagers to be won. This was raw, unbridled lust that could no longer be contained. They surfaced for air, gasping and panting, their eyes never leaving each other's.

"I want you," Safi said, her voice barely a whisper. "I want to feel you inside me again."

Leon's response was to pull her closer, his hand slipping between her legs to tease her clit. Safi's head fell back, a moan escaping her lips as she writhed against his touch.

They made their way to the pool's edge, the water lapping at their thighs. Leon bent her over the side, the cold tiles pressing into her skin as he entered her from behind. The sensation was exquisite, a mix of pain and pleasure that had her begging for more.

Their movements grew erratic, their breaths mingling with the sound of the water. Safi's hands gripped the edge, her knuckles white with the effort of holding on as Leon pounded into her.

"Harder," she gasped, her voice a desperate plea.

Leon complied, his hips slamming into hers with a force that had them both teetering on the edge of oblivion. The water splashed around them, a testament to their passion.

When Safi came, it was with a scream that echoed through the empty pool. Leon followed her, his own release a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the building.

As they collapsed into each other's arms, their bodies slick with water and sweat, they knew that their secret would have to remain just that. But in the dark of night, when the water was still and the lights were out, they would continue their clandestine war of love and lust.

Leon and Safi couldn't keep their hands off each other, their training sessions turning into a silent war of touches and glances. They pushed each other to their limits in the pool, each victory a delicious taste of triumph that only made the inevitable surrender that much sweeter.

After one particularly intense practice, Safi waited for the others to leave before approaching Leon. "Meet me in the weight room," she said, her voice a seductive dare. He nodded, unable to resist the challenge in her eyes.

In the dimly lit room, the smell of sweat and iron hung heavy in the air. Safi was already there, a towel slung low on her hips, her skin glistening with the promise of a different kind of workout. "You've been holding back," she accused, her voice low and sultry.

Leon stepped closer, the space between them charged with tension. "I have not," he countered, his voice a gruff whisper.

"Prove it," she taunted, her eyes never leaving his.

Their next encounter was as explosive as the first, their bodies colliding with the same intensity that their personalities did. They fucked with the same ferocity that they swam, each stroke and touch a declaration of war and surrender all at once.

Leon bent Safi over a bench, her legs spread wide as he took her from behind. The sound of the weights clanking together was a metaphor for their tumultuous relationship, a symphony of passion and power that only grew more intense with each passing moment.

Safi moaned, her nails digging into the padded leather as Leon's hands gripped her hips. "Is this what you wanted?" he growled, his thrusts punctuating his words.

"Yes," she panted, her voice a mix of pleasure and defiance. "This is what I've always wanted."

Their rivalry had turned into something else entirely, a dance of desire that neither of them could resist. They hated each other, and yet, they craved each other with a need that was all-consuming.

Their trysts grew more frequent, stolen moments in the pool's shadows or the secluded corners of the gym. They were like addicts, unable to get enough of the high that came from their illicit encounters.

But as the university's swim meet approached, the stakes grew higher. The tension between them grew thicker, each practice a battleground for their hearts as much as their pride. They both knew that their secret could cost them everything if it was ever discovered.

And yet, they couldn't stay away from each other. Every time they were apart, the need grew stronger, a hunger that could only be satiated by the taste of victory and the feel of skin on skin.

Their final race was the most intense yet. The crowd roared, their names a chant that echoed through the water. They pushed each other, their eyes locked in a silent battle as their bodies moved in perfect sync.

As they reached the final lap, Safi felt Leon's hand brush against her thigh, a gentle caress that sent a bolt of electricity through her. She knew what it meant, and she responded in kind, their fingers tangling together for a brief moment before they broke away, sprinting towards the finish.

When Safi's hand touched the wall first, Leon couldn't help but feel a strange sense of pride. She had won, and yet, he had never felt more like a winner.

They climbed out of the pool, their bodies shaking with exhaustion and desire. The air was thick with the scent of chlorine and want. And as they stared at each other, water droplets clinging to their lashes, they knew that their story was far from over.

Their rivalry had become a twisted web of love and hate, a tale of enemies to lovers that would continue to unfold in the most unexpected of places. The pool was no longer just a battleground for their pride; it had become the birthplace of a love that neither of them had ever dared to dream of…

Hey lovely!!!!! Let me say that I am so thankful that you write for Leon and that I loooooooooove your stories so for! Could I send in a request? Maybe where Y/n (French if possible cause I am also French) joins him in the US and they move in together after sometime doing long distance? And just super fluffy!!! No rush though! Take care of yourself!!!! ♥️♥️♥️

✧Reunis pour Toujours ✧

─ Léon Marchand x OC, Léon Marchand x Reader

@frenchgirlinlondon Bonjour ! I hope this lives up to expectation, merci my darling.

warnings: established couple, not fluent in French, fluff!!, no use of time nor setting.

It had been a year since Léon had left France for the U.S., chasing his dream of swimming glory at Arizona State University. The long-distance had been tough, with late-night FaceTime calls and endless texts, but nothing could replace the warmth of being together.

Today, that was finally going to change.

Y/N looked out the window of the taxi as it pulled up to Léon’s apartment complex in Tempe, Arizona. The sun was shining brightly, and palm trees lined the street—a stark contrast to the familiar Parisian boulevards. The moment the car stopped, Y/N felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. This was it. A new chapter in their relationship.

Y/N stepped out of the taxi, pulling a suitcase along. The door to Léon’s building opened almost instantly, and there he was—tall, broad-shouldered, with that familiar mop of curly hair and a smile that could light up the darkest of days.

“Mon amour!” Léon called out, rushing down the steps. He wrapped Y/N in a tight embrace, lifting them slightly off the ground.

“Léon!” Y/N laughed, burying their face in his neck, taking in the scent they had missed so much. “Je t’ai tellement manqué,” they whispered, their voice muffled against his skin.

“Tu n’imagines même pas,” he replied, pulling back slightly to look at them. His brown eyes were filled with a mixture of love and relief. “Finally, no more time zones, no more screens between us.”

Y/N smiled, their eyes welling up with happy tears. “Je suis tellement heureuse d’être ici, avec toi.”

Léon kissed them gently on the forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. “Moi aussi. Let’s get you inside, I can’t wait to show you our place.”

Together, they carried Y/N’s suitcase up the stairs. Léon opened the door to his apartment—a cozy space filled with a mix of modern furniture and personal touches. On the wall was a photo collage, mostly of the two of them—memories from France and moments from Léon’s life in the U.S.

“Welcome home,” Léon said softly, watching as Y/N took in the room.

“Our home,” Y/N corrected, smiling at him. They placed their suitcase by the door and walked over to the couch, where Léon had laid out a few of their favorite snacks from France—a thoughtful gesture that made Y/N’s heart swell.

They sat down together, Léon’s arm draped around Y/N’s shoulders, pulling them close. “This feels surreal,” Y/N said, their voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” Léon agreed, his fingers gently playing with Y/N’s hair. “But it’s real. We’re here. Together.”

Y/N turned to look at him, their faces just inches apart. “What do we do now?”

Léon grinned, leaning in to press a soft kiss to their lips. “Now, we make this place ours. We create new memories, explore this city, and just… be together.”

Y/N nodded, a smile tugging at their lips. “J’aime ça.”

They spent the rest of the day unpacking, Léon showing Y/N around the apartment. The kitchen had a small dining table with two chairs, perfect for cozy breakfasts. The living room had a large window that let in plenty of natural light, and the bedroom was simple yet comfortable, with a queen-sized bed that looked like it had been made with care.

“C’est parfait,” Y/N said as they walked into the bedroom, running their hand over the soft bedspread. Léon came up behind them, wrapping his arms around their waist.

“I’m glad you think so,” he murmured, resting his chin on their shoulder. “Because I want this to be our space, where we can relax after a long day, where we can just be ourselves.”

Y/N turned in his arms to face him, their hands resting on his chest. “I’m so happy to be here with you, Léon. I know it was hard being apart, but it made this moment even more special.”

Léon smiled, leaning down to kiss them softly. “Every second was worth it if it brought us to this moment.”

They stood there for a moment, just holding each other, savoring the feeling of finally being together after so long. The challenges of long-distance seemed like a distant memory now that they were in each other’s arms.

As the day turned into evening, they curled up on the couch together, a soft blanket draped over them. Léon had his arm around Y/N, their head resting on his shoulder as they watched a movie. But more than the movie, Y/N was focused on the steady rhythm of Léon’s breathing, the warmth of his body next to theirs.

“Je t’aime,” Y/N whispered, looking up at him.

Léon smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to their forehead. “Je t’aime aussi, pour toujours.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, everything was perfect. They were together, and nothing else mattered.

As they drifted off to sleep that night, Léon holding Y/N close, they both knew that this was just the beginning of their new life together. No more distance, no more longing—just endless days of love and happiness.

hey! love your leon writing, it’s really great to read. thank you for your work, keep it up!

i was also hoping you could write a something with a gymnast!reader where she’s seen him compete and vise versa. thanks <3

✧Partners in Performance ✧

─ Léon Marchand x OC, Léon Marchand x Reader

Hi Anon, Thank you lots and lots for your ask, super cool idea to mix gymnastics into the mix with Léon !

Warnings: Established relationship, I haven't been to the village nor events in the Olympics (Paris '24), not fluent in French, Fluff!

---

Y/N tightened the straps on their gymnastics grips, their focus sharp as they prepared for their next routine. The gym was filled with the familiar sounds of chalky hands clapping and the rhythmic pounding of feet on the mats. It was competition day, and the energy was palpable.

But Y/N’s thoughts weren’t entirely on the upcoming performance. Instead, their mind kept drifting to the tall, curly-haired swimmer who was probably wrapping up his own practice at the pool. Léon Marchand, the rising star of French swimming, had been a constant presence in Y/N’s life, both as a competitor and as something more.

They had met at a sports camp two years ago, each working tirelessly to refine their craft. What started as a friendship rooted in mutual respect quickly blossomed into something deeper. They understood each other in a way few others could—how the pressure of competition could weigh heavily, how victories were both exhilarating and fleeting, and how the grind never really stopped.

“Ready?” Their coach’s voice pulled Y/N out of their thoughts.

“Ready,” Y/N replied with a nod, rolling their shoulders back and taking a deep breath. This was their moment.

The announcer called their name, and Y/N stepped onto the floor, the apparatus shining under the bright lights. The music started, and with it, Y/N’s routine—a carefully choreographed blend of strength, grace, and precision.

They flowed through the movements, each leap, turn, and flip executed with a combination of power and elegance. As they completed their final tumbling pass, landing with a controlled but firm stance, the crowd erupted into applause. Y/N smiled, their heart racing with the thrill of nailing the routine.

After saluting the judges, Y/N jogged off the floor, a sense of accomplishment washing over them. As they grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from their brow, their phone buzzed in their gym bag. They fished it out and saw a message from Léon.

**Léon**: *J’ai vu ta performance en direct. Incroyable, comme toujours.*

(I watched your performance live. Incredible, as always.)

Y/N’s smile widened, warmth spreading through them. Léon had always been their biggest fan, even when he couldn’t be there in person. They quickly typed back.

**Y/N**: *Merci, mon amour. J’aurais aimé que tu sois ici, mais savoir que tu regardes, c’est presque aussi bien.*

(Thank you, my love. I wish you were here, but knowing you’re watching is almost as good.)

There wasn’t much time to bask in the moment, though. The rest of the competition still loomed, but Y/N felt a renewed sense of determination. They weren’t just performing for themselves; they were doing it for Léon too.

---

Later that evening, after the competition had wrapped up and Y/N had collected their medal—a hard-earned silver—they finally had a chance to unwind. The hotel room was quiet, and as they settled into bed, their phone buzzed again. It was a video call from Léon.

Y/N answered immediately, and there he was—his handsome face filling the screen, eyes bright with pride.

“Salut, championne,” Léon greeted, his voice warm and full of affection.

“Salut, champion,” Y/N replied, feeling a flutter in their chest. “How was practice?”

“Tough,” Léon admitted, running a hand through his damp curls. “But nothing compared to what you just did. I watched your entire routine, Y/N. You were amazing.”

Y/N blushed slightly, still getting used to the way Léon’s compliments made their heart race. “Thank you. I wish you could have been there.”

“Me too,” he said, his expression softening. “But soon, we’ll both be competing in the same city. I can’t wait for that.”

“Neither can I,” Y/N agreed. “I miss watching you swim in person. Videos don’t do it justice.”

Léon chuckled. “Well, I’ve got a big meet coming up. Maybe you could come watch?”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “I’d love that. What’s the meet?”

“It’s in a few weeks, actually,” Léon said. “The nationals. I’ve been training hard for it.”

“I’ll be there,” Y/N promised. “Front row, cheering you on.”

Léon’s smile was radiant. “Knowing you’ll be there makes it even better.”

They talked for a while longer, sharing details about their training and upcoming competitions, each finding comfort in the other’s voice despite the miles between them.

---

When the day of Léon’s big meet finally arrived, Y/N was in the stands, heart pounding with anticipation. The aquatic center was buzzing with excitement as swimmers warmed up and spectators filled the seats.

When Léon’s event was called, Y/N’s breath caught in their throat. They had seen him swim countless times before, but it never ceased to amaze them. The way he moved through the water was almost otherworldly, each stroke powerful and fluid.

As the race began, Y/N leaned forward in their seat, eyes glued to the pool. Léon surged ahead, his movements precise and controlled, and Y/N’s heart swelled with pride. When he touched the wall and the scoreboard flashed his time—first place—Y/N jumped to their feet, cheering loudly.

Léon looked up into the stands, and when his eyes found Y/N, his face broke into a wide grin. He pointed up at them, a silent acknowledgment that this victory, like so many others, was shared.

After the medals were awarded, Léon found Y/N in the crowd, pulling them into a tight embrace despite the fact that he was still dripping wet.

“You were incredible,” Y/N said, their voice muffled against his chest.

“Only because you were here,” Léon replied, pressing a kiss to their temple. “I told you, didn’t I? We’re better together.”

Y/N laughed softly, looking up at him. “Yeah, we are.”

As they walked out of the aquatic center hand in hand, Y/N couldn’t help but feel that, no matter where their sports took them, as long as they had each other, they would always find a way to shine.

Could you please write a Leon x Reader where they are celebrating the closing ceremony together? Especially highlighting his opportunity to extinguish the Olympic Cauldron. Thank you! He looked so hot in a suit. Woo! 🥵 The gardens were the perfect romantic setting too. Love that you are writing for him.

✧The Final Flame ✧

─ Léon Marchand x OC, Léon Marchand x Reader

Hey Anon, I hope enjoyed the closing ceremony as much as i did! i must admit i will miss the Paris Olympics A LOT! Enjoy x

Warnings: Established relationship, recount of events displayed on tv, inaccurate time frame ( some say Léon is still walking)

Enjoy!

The stadium roared with applause, the electric atmosphere of the closing ceremony reverberating through the crowd. You stood amidst the excitement, eyes locked on the center stage where the star of the evening was about to make his appearance. Léon Marchand, the golden boy of the games, was moments away from performing one of the most symbolic acts of the night—extinguishing the Olympic Cauldron.

As the crowd quieted, a spotlight illuminated Léon. He stood there, looking effortlessly dashing in a perfectly tailored suit that accentuated his athletic build. His usually tousled hair was neatly styled, but there was still a hint of that carefree charm that made him so captivating. The suit, a deep navy that contrasted perfectly with the flames behind him, made him look every bit the hero of the evening.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and admiration as he took the stage, the weight of the moment clear in his focused expression. He had already captured the hearts of millions with his record-breaking swims, but tonight, it was his presence, his calm poise, that held everyone’s attention.

The final speaker’s words echoed through the stadium, a reminder of the incredible feats achieved over the past weeks. Then, the moment arrived. Léon was handed the ceremonial torch, its flame a symbol of passion, perseverance, and unity. The crowd hushed, all eyes on him as he approached the cauldron.

You held your breath as he paused for just a moment, his gaze flickering over the crowd before landing on you. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips—one that only you would notice. It was a smile that spoke of shared memories, of countless hours of training, of every moment leading up to this one. Your heart swelled with emotion, knowing how much this meant to him.

With a steady hand, Léon tilted the torch towards the cauldron. The flames that had burned so brightly throughout the games began to flicker and fade, the light dimming until it was finally extinguished. The crowd erupted into applause, but Léon remained still for a moment, letting the gravity of the act settle over him.

He turned to face the audience, the applause growing louder, but his eyes sought you out in the crowd. Even in this moment of triumph, he was grounded, his thoughts always returning to you. As the applause began to fade, he stepped down from the platform and made his way towards you.

When he finally reached you, the noise of the crowd seemed to fade away. His hand found yours, the warmth of his touch grounding you both in the present. He leaned in, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

"Thank you for being here," he murmured, his eyes soft with affection.

"You were incredible," you whispered back, squeezing his hand. "I'm so proud of you."

He smiled, that same boyish grin that had won your heart so long ago. "Let's get out of here," he said, nodding towards a quieter exit away from the press and the crowd. "I want to celebrate with you."

As you slipped away from the stadium together, the weight of the ceremony gave way to a sense of relief and joy. Tonight was just the beginning of new memories with Léon, and you couldn’t wait to see what the future held for both of you.

heyy bestie!! i noticed you’re also an f1 fan (as am i) i was wondering if you could write an f1 driver reader! x leon marchand! preferably a ferrari driver (forza ferrari always)🤞

✧Scarlett Red in a Ferrari ✧

─ Léon Marchand x OC, Léon Marchand x Reader, f1 driver reader! x leon marchand!

OMG OMG @scottstr3et, I AM SO EXCITED. I adore F1 (Mclaren Girlie at heart) this was so much fun!! i really hope you love this as much as i did!.

Warnings: f1 driver reader! x leon marchand!, Strangers to lovers, silverstone, F1 and swimming crossover, Fluff!

The roar of the Ferrari engine was a symphony Y/N had dreamt about for years. Every twist and turn of the Maranello track felt surreal, as if they were floating on a cloud made of horsepower and adrenaline. This was their first official day as a Ferrari driver—a dream so vivid it felt almost tangible, like the very wheel they were gripping.

"Y/N, how’s the car feeling?" the engineer's voice crackled through the radio, breaking their reverie.

Y/N's heart pounded in sync with the engine. "It’s responsive, stable... feels perfect. Ready to push it."

"Copy that. Let's get you warmed up with a few laps."

Y/N pressed down on the accelerator, feeling the immense power surge through the car as they exited the pit lane. The sensation was overwhelming—an intoxicating blend of fear, excitement, and sheer determination. The car danced through the corners, gripping the asphalt with ease. Every vibration through the steering wheel communicated the car's every nuance, and Y/N responded instinctively, as if the car was an extension of their body.

But with the thrill came pressure. Driving for Ferrari wasn't just about skill; it was about legacy, and Y/N knew the weight of that responsibility. The team was expecting results. The Tifosi—Ferrari's passionate fanbase—were expecting miracles.

As Y/N completed the first few laps, the rhythm started to set in, nerves slowly morphing into confidence. It was during the cool-down lap that the thought crept in—could they really do this? Compete at the highest level, under the brightest spotlight?

"Good job, Y/N. Bring it back to the pits," the engineer's voice instructed, breaking through their thoughts.

Y/N eased off the throttle, guiding the car back into the pit lane. After parking and stepping out, the intense heat from the car mixed with the cool Maranello air, creating a strange but comforting sensation. The team was gathered around, checking data, and analyzing every second of the run.

Y/N took off their helmet, running a hand through sweat-dampened hair. The sight of the Ferrari crew bustling about with purpose made their heart swell with pride. They were really here.

"Solid run out there," the team principal said, clapping Y/N on the shoulder. "We’ll go over the data, but things are looking promising."

"Thanks," Y/N replied, trying to keep their voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through them.

As they walked away from the car, the reality of their new life started to settle in. This was just the beginning of a grueling season—one that would test them mentally, physically, and emotionally. But Y/N was ready to face it head-on. After all, this was their dream.

The season opener in Bahrain was fast approaching, and Y/N was putting in extra hours at the simulator, fine-tuning their understanding of the car. The Ferrari hospitality suite buzzed with activity as preparations were in full swing, but Y/N's focus was singular.

"You're going to wear yourself out before the race even starts," a familiar voice teased.

Y/N turned around to find Charles Leclerc leaning casually against the doorway, a small smirk playing on his lips. The Monegasque driver had been with Ferrari for a few seasons now, and his presence in the team was both comforting and challenging—a benchmark to measure oneself against.

"Just making sure I’m as prepared as possible," Y/N replied with a smile. "Can’t leave anything to chance."

Charles chuckled. "Smart, but don’t forget to live a little. The season is long, and you need to find balance."

Y/N nodded, appreciating the advice. "What about you? How do you find that balance?"

Charles shrugged. "I go home, spend time with family, or just do something completely unrelated to racing. It helps keep the mind fresh. You should try it."

Y/N knew he was right. The pressure of being a Ferrari driver was immense, and they needed to find a way to manage it without burning out.

"Actually," Charles continued, "there’s a swimming event this weekend in Monaco. I know you're new to the team, but you should come. A lot of the drivers are going, and it could be a good way to unwind before the chaos starts."

Y/N hesitated. Swimming events weren’t really their scene, but the idea of taking a break and bonding with other drivers was appealing. Plus, Charles had a point—getting out of the racing mindset, even briefly, could be beneficial.

"Alright, I’m in," Y/N finally agreed.

"Great. It’ll be fun, I promise," Charles said with a grin. "And who knows, you might meet some interesting people."

---

That weekend, Y/N found themselves in Monaco, surrounded by a different kind of athlete. The energy was more relaxed, yet still competitive. The event was packed, with the audience buzzing as swimmers took to the pool. Y/N was impressed by the sheer physicality of the sport, the way the swimmers cut through the water with such grace and power.

Charles had been right—this was exactly the kind of break they needed.

"Hey, you made it!" Charles said, walking up to Y/N with a drink in hand.

"Yeah, you were right. This is a nice change of pace," Y/N replied, watching as the next race started.

As they were talking, a swimmer emerged from the pool, his dark hair slicked back and water dripping off his muscular frame. He pulled off his cap and goggles, revealing a strikingly handsome face, his intense blue eyes scanning the crowd. There was something magnetic about him, a confidence in the way he carried himself that caught Y/N's attention.

"That’s Leon Marchand," Charles said, noticing Y/N's gaze. "He’s one of the top swimmers in the world right now. Won a bunch of medals already."

Y/N nodded, trying to appear nonchalant. "He looks like he was born for this."

"He probably was," Charles replied with a chuckle. "Come on, I’ll introduce you."

They made their way over to where Leon was toweling off, the crowd around them buzzing with excitement. When Charles approached, Leon looked up, a friendly smile breaking through his focused expression.

"Hey, Charles! Good to see you," Leon said, his voice warm despite the exhaustion of the race.

"Leon, this is Y/N. They’re new to Ferrari this year," Charles introduced them with a casual wave.

Y/N extended a hand, trying to ignore the sudden flutter of nerves. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Leon replied, his handshake firm but not overpowering. His eyes lingered on Y/N's for a moment, and there was a spark of recognition, like he was trying to place them.

"You did great out there," Y/N said, trying to fill the silence.

"Thanks. I’ve been putting in a lot of work lately. You’re with Ferrari, right? That must be intense."

Y/N nodded, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious under Leon's gaze. "Yeah, it’s been a lot, but I’m ready for the challenge."

"I’m sure you are," Leon replied, his smile widening slightly. "It’s not every day you meet someone who drives at 300 kilometers an hour for a living."

"Well, it’s not every day you meet someone who swims like a dolphin," Y/N shot back, surprising themselves with their quick wit.

Leon laughed, a genuine sound that made Y/N's heart skip a beat. "Touché."

As the conversation continued, Y/N found themselves drawn to Leon’s easygoing nature and the way he seemed genuinely interested in their world. They talked about the pressures of their respective sports, the rigorous training schedules, and the sacrifices they had to make to stay on top. There was an understanding between them that transcended words—a shared recognition of what it meant to be the best in your field.

When the evening wound down and the crowd began to disperse, Leon turned to Y/N, his expression softening. "I’m glad we met today. Maybe we could hang out sometime, when we’re not both in the middle of our crazy schedules?"

Y/N felt a warmth spread through them at the invitation. "I’d like that."

As they exchanged numbers and said their goodbyes, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like something significant had just begun. Maybe Charles was right—finding balance didn’t mean stepping away from the competition; it meant finding someone who understood it just as much as you did.

The weeks following their encounter with Leon were a whirlwind. The F1 season kicked off with a bang, and Y/N was thrust into the chaos of race weekends, media commitments, and constant travel. Yet, amidst the frenzy, there was a constant thought that kept them grounded—Leon.

They’d texted sporadically at first, brief conversations about their respective sports and the occasional joke. But as the races piled up and the pressures mounted, those texts became a lifeline for Y/N. Leon had a way of making them laugh, even on the toughest days, and his encouragement was a steady source of support.

It wasn’t long before they found themselves looking forward to hearing from him, their conversations becoming more frequent and personal. They’d talk late into the night, sharing stories about their childhoods, their dreams, and their fears. The connection between them grew stronger with each passing day, even though they hadn’t seen each other in person since that day in Monaco.

One evening, after a particularly grueling race in Spain where Y/N finished just off the podium, they found themselves alone in their hotel room, scrolling through messages when Leon’s name popped up on the screen.

**Leon:** Tough race today. You did well, though. P4 is still a great result. You should be proud.

Y/N smiled at the message, the frustration of missing out on the podium slightly easing as they typed back a reply.

**Y/N:** Thanks, Leon. It’s tough to come so close, but yeah, I’ll take it. How’s training going for you?

**Leon:** Intense as always, but I’m getting there. Actually, I’ve got a bit of a break coming up next weekend. What’s your next race?

**Y/N:** Silverstone. Big one. The British fans are something else.

**Leon:** Sounds amazing. Would you mind some company?

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. The thought of having Leon at Silverstone, cheering them on, filled them with a warmth they hadn’t felt in a long time.

**Y/N:** I’d love that. It’ll be chaotic, but having you there would be awesome.

**Leon:** It’s a date, then. I’ll be your personal cheerleader.

Y/N grinned at the message, their mind already racing ahead to what it would be like to have Leon there. The idea of him being in the crowd, supporting them, made the upcoming race feel even more significant.

---

Silverstone was electric. The air buzzed with excitement as the fans poured into the stands, draped in the Union Jack, chanting for their favorite drivers. For Y/N, this race felt different. The pressure was there, of course, but it was accompanied by a sense of anticipation they hadn’t felt before.

Leon arrived on Saturday, just in time for qualifying. Y/N met him in the Ferrari hospitality suite, and as soon as they saw him, they couldn’t help but smile. He looked relaxed, dressed casually in a polo shirt and jeans, but his presence had an immediate calming effect on Y/N.

"Hey, you made it!" Y/N said, pulling him into a quick, but warm hug.

"Wouldn’t miss it for the world," Leon replied, his smile just as bright as Y/N’s. "This place is insane. I’ve never seen anything like it."

"It’s definitely a different kind of crazy," Y/N laughed. "Come on, let me show you around."

They spent the next hour exploring the paddock, with Y/N introducing Leon to various team members and fellow drivers. Leon was a hit—his easygoing nature and genuine interest in the sport winning everyone over. Y/N could tell he was fascinated by the intricacies of F1, asking questions about the car setups, race strategies, and what it felt like to drive at such high speeds.

When it was time for qualifying, Leon took his seat in the Ferrari suite, watching intently as Y/N climbed into the car. The qualifying session was intense, with Y/N pushing the car to its limits around Silverstone’s fast, flowing corners. The roar of the crowd was deafening as Y/N crossed the line, securing P2 for the race.

Afterward, Y/N found Leon waiting for them, a proud smile on his face. "P2! You were incredible out there!"

"Thanks, but it’s only half the job," Y/N replied, still buzzing from the session. "Tomorrow’s the real test."

"You’ve got this," Leon said, his confidence in Y/N unwavering. "I’ll be cheering you on the whole way."

Y/N felt a surge of emotion at his words. Leon’s belief in them was like a shot of adrenaline, fueling their determination to deliver on race day.

---

Sunday morning dawned bright and clear, the perfect day for racing. The atmosphere at Silverstone was electric, with over a hundred thousand fans packed into the grandstands, their cheers echoing around the historic circuit.

Y/N felt a mixture of nerves and excitement as they prepared for the race. They could feel the energy in the air, the sense that something special was about to happen. And knowing Leon was there, watching, only intensified those feelings.

As the race began, Y/N got off to a strong start, maintaining their position in the top three. The battle for the lead was fierce, with every lap pushing the drivers to their limits. The corners flew by in a blur, the roar of the engine drowning out everything else.

Leon watched from the suite, his heart pounding as Y/N fought for every inch on the track. He’d never experienced anything like this before—the sheer speed, the danger, the skill it took to control such a powerful machine. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

As the race entered its final stages, Y/N found themselves in a tight battle for the lead. The car ahead was fast, but Y/N was faster, and with a few laps to go, they made their move, diving down the inside at Stowe corner to take the lead.

The crowd erupted as Y/N crossed the line in first place, the checkered flag waving them home. It was a moment of pure elation, a victory that meant the world to them.

After parking the car and jumping out, Y/N was greeted by their team, hugs and cheers all around. But it was Leon they sought out first, their eyes scanning the crowd until they found him making his way through the throng of people.

As soon as their eyes met, Y/N broke into a run, their heart pounding with joy. Leon caught them as they reached him, pulling them into a tight embrace. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in that moment of pure happiness.

"You did it!" Leon exclaimed, his voice full of pride and emotion.

"I couldn’t have done it without you," Y/N replied, their voice thick with emotion. The adrenaline of the race was still coursing through them, but it was mixed with something else—a deep, overwhelming feeling for the man standing in front of them.

Without thinking, Y/N leaned in, capturing Leon’s lips in a kiss. It was spontaneous, driven by the rush of victory and the connection they’d been building over the past few weeks. The kiss was brief but intense, a moment of pure passion that took them both by surprise.

When they pulled back, Y/N saw the surprise in Leon’s eyes, but also something else—something that mirrored the emotions they were feeling.

"Wow," Leon whispered, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "That was... unexpected."

Y/N laughed, their heart swelling with affection. "Sorry, I just... I couldn’t help it."

"Don’t apologize," Leon said, his hand cupping Y/N’s cheek. "I’m glad you did."

Before they could say anything more, the team was calling for Y/N to head to the podium. Y/N looked back at Leon, their eyes locking once more.

"Stay close, okay? I want you to be there when I get off the podium."

"I’ll be right here," Leon promised, his smile warm and reassuring.

With one last squeeze of Leon’s hand, Y/N turned and headed toward the podium, the cheers of the crowd ringing in their ears. As they stepped onto the top step, the weight of the moment hit them—the culmination of all their hard work, their dreams, and the support of the people who believed in them.

And as the national anthem played and the champagne flowed, Y/N’s thoughts were with Leon. They knew this was just the beginning of something incredible, both on and off the track.

When the podium celebrations were over, Y/N quickly made their way back to Leon, who was waiting just where he’d promised. Without a word, Y/N pulled him into another kiss, this one slower, more deliberate, a promise of what was to come.

As they finally pulled away, Y/N rested their forehead against Leon’s, their smiles mirroring each other.

"Looks like I’ve got another reason to love racing," Y/N said softly.

Leon chuckled, his eyes shining with happiness. "And I’ve got a new favorite driver."

Together, they walked away from the podium, hand in hand, ready to face whatever the future held.

Hey!!! I just had an idea for a Leon fanfic! Could you maybe write a fanfic x y/n based on the song ‘boyfriend’ by Dove Cameron if you know the song! If not it’s fine !!! 💖💖

✧I could be such a gentleman✧

─ Léon Marchand x OC, Léon Marchand x Reader

Hello Anon, thank you for your ask! I listened to the song on loop when writing haha! It was very original thank you x

Warnings: friends to lovers, based on ‘boyfriend’ by Dove Cameron, fluff, no establishment plot :)

Enjoy!

---

The pool had always been your sanctuary, a place where you could lose yourself in the rhythm of your strokes, the water wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. But lately, it had become something else—something more charged, more alive. And that had everything to do with Léon Marchand.

You and Léon had been friends for as long as you could remember. You were both competitive swimmers, always pushing each other to go faster, to be better. You had a bond that others admired, one built on mutual respect and an understanding that only came from hours spent in the water together.

But recently, you had begun to notice things that you hadn’t before—like how the sunlight glinted off his wet skin as he climbed out of the pool, or how his laughter, deep and resonant, made your heart skip a beat. You noticed the way his eyes lingered on you just a bit longer than they used to, and how he always seemed to find a reason to stand close, his arm brushing against yours.

Today was no different, and yet, everything felt different. You stood at the edge of the pool, towel draped over your shoulders, watching Léon as he finished his laps. His movements were fluid, effortless, the water parting for him as if it knew he belonged there. You couldn’t help but admire him, not just for his skill but for the way he carried himself—confident, but never arrogant.

As he reached the wall and lifted himself out of the pool, your breath caught in your throat. The way his muscles rippled under his skin, the way he ran a hand through his wet hair—it was almost too much. You quickly averted your gaze, but not before he caught you staring.

“Enjoying the view?” Léon teased, his voice warm and slightly breathless as he reached for his towel.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, and you forced yourself to meet his eyes. “Just making sure you’re not slacking off,” you shot back, trying to keep your tone light.

He laughed, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “I wouldn’t dream of it, especially with you watching.”

There it was again, that hint of something more in his voice. It was enough to make your pulse quicken, but you pushed the feeling down, reminding yourself that this was Léon—your friend, your training partner. Anything else was just…complicated.

But Léon wasn’t making it easy. He stepped closer, close enough that you could see the droplets of water still clinging to his skin, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his body despite the cool air.

“You know,” he said softly, his eyes locking onto yours, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About us.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to read his expression, but Léon was always good at keeping his emotions in check. Still, there was something in his gaze that made your breath hitch—a vulnerability that you hadn’t seen before.

“Us?” you echoed, trying to keep your voice steady. “What do you mean?”

He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he was about to say. “I don’t want to just be your friend anymore, Y/N. I want something more.”

The words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. This was what you had been both hoping for and dreading—because as much as you had thought about what it would be like to be with Léon, you were terrified of what it could mean. What if it ruined everything? What if you lost the one person who knew you better than anyone else?

“Léon…” You started, but he held up a hand, cutting you off.

“Just hear me out,” he said, his voice urgent, as if he was afraid that if you didn’t let him finish, he might lose his nerve. “I know it’s a lot to take in, and I don’t want to mess things up between us. But I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and I can’t keep pretending that I don’t feel something more for you.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “What if it doesn’t work out?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “What if we ruin everything?”

Léon’s expression softened, and he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. The touch was light, tentative, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you. “What if it does work out?” he countered gently. “What if we’re missing out on something amazing because we’re too scared to take the chance?”

His words hung in the air, full of promise and hope. You wanted to believe him, but the fear of losing him, of losing what you already had, held you back.

“Y/N, I could be a better boyfriend than anyone else,” Léon said, his voice steady, his eyes never leaving yours. “I know you, and I know how to make you happy. I’d never take you for granted, never hurt you. I’d be there for you, always.”

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice, at the raw emotion in his eyes. This was Léon, the same person who had been by your side through everything, who had seen you at your best and your worst. The idea of losing him was unbearable, but so was the thought of never knowing what it could be like to be with him.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the distance between you, your hand slipping into his. “I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “But I don’t want to lose you either.”

Léon’s eyes softened, and he squeezed your hand, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re not going to lose me,” he promised, his voice full of conviction. “We’ll figure this out together.”

And in that moment, as he looked at you with such tenderness, such certainty, you realized that maybe this was worth the risk. Maybe Léon was right—maybe what you could have together was something extraordinary.

With a deep breath, you stepped closer, your free hand resting on his chest. “Okay,” you whispered, the word barely audible over the sound of your racing heart. “Let’s do this.”

Léon’s smile widened, relief flooding his features as he pulled you into a gentle embrace. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close, and you felt a sense of peace wash over you. This was right—this was where you were meant to be.

As you stood there, wrapped in Léon’s arms, you knew that this was just the beginning. There would be challenges, there would be moments of doubt, but you also knew that you would face them together. Because with Léon, you weren’t just taking a risk—you were taking a chance on something real, something that could last.

And as he pulled back to look at you, his eyes full of warmth and affection, you knew that you’d made the right choice. This was more than just friendship—this was the start of something beautiful.

---

**The End.**