#CHARLES FUCKING DANCE

[secretagentsagainstwhatever]

OMFG Madame de Pompadour from doctor who is Lady Penelope from Thunderbirds?!!!

[alexturntable]

chat is this real

[medievalandfantasymelee]

Fathers and Sons

Match 6

Ser Jaime Lannister, Game of Thrones (2011-2019) VS. Lord Tywin Lannister, Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

These Father-Son Matchups are not part of Tournament Proper. They are one-off 24 hour Matchups purely for fun while we get the next Round of the Tournament set up.

[rcehb-art]

DO YOU GUYS SEE THE VISION?!?!?

Charles Dance as Raphael

[trappper-johnathan]

Klinger and Hawkeye are not included because that would be too easy. Klinger is THEE drag queen of the 4077th, and we all know Hawkeye would kill it, so they are the judges.

((btw I would love to hear why you chose who you did! And also if you think of any drag names the characters would come up with 👀))

[zxro-404]

I want to bite his head off carnally

[lord-antihero]

I look at that evil mfer and I start barking bro.

[talentforlying]

THE CONSTANTINE / MASTERS FAMILY: ( top to bottom )

thomas constantine (father, deceased)

mary anne constantine (mother, deceased)

cheryl masters née constantine (older sister, deceased)

john constantine (alive, for now)

the golden boy (twin, deceased)

gemma masters / constantine (niece, daughter of cheryl, alive)

[braime-brainrot]

Tywin Lannister being convinced that Tyrion is the disappointing child and the black sheep of the family only to find out what his other two children have been up to this whole time:

[x-heesy]

🅷🅴🅻🅻 🆈 🅰🆂🆂! 🇮🇹

Happy f- holidays, merry m- Christmas

December 25th, we are on alert

Still the anxiety rising, hey

I smoke like it's legal, hey

Tell me if anyone is normal

In Area 51, bro, there's Santa Claus, wow

Put the record on and you're dead, you wait for this piece more than the risen Christ

In my house the crucifix is ​​a memory

Son of God, I prefer abortion

I think I go to Mc, I put on a happy face like Arthur Fleck

I make a massacre if, again this year Michael Bublé sings on Italia 1

I smoke but don't mind it

There is the nativity scene that gives me a round of applause

People go where their noses take them

Especially if it is Pippo Baudo's

I ride with the revocation, eh

Widow type noise, huh

Christmas is upon us

Jehovah's Witness

If it gets me that bad

Maybe, maybe it will be Christmas

Even though it all seems the same to me

Every time I think about it I get Charles Manson, eh

I think I'm late today too, eh

I'm not on time for dinner

You know what the fuck I care about gifts

Or to see some stupid aunt

I hate Christmas like the Grinch, mh

'This flow kills you, it gives lessons, mh

I enter a cinepanettone, mh

With a shotgun, mh

New Year's Eve with a bang

I'm crazy, now I'm going to explode

I'm under your girlfriend's tree, I give her my cock with a bow

Hey, Santa Claus

Except one day a year he's just an old drunk

This year I made money and I will ask baby Jesus

What does he want as a gift, like Briatore

Well done, clown sings

All red bro, like Santa Claus

You who are around me, because you want a follow

I'll give you the likes, I'm Santa Cloud

I see you sad, maybe it's because you're not on Salmo's album

And if Santa Claus exists, I'm not the rapper of the year

If it gets me that bad

Maybe, maybe it will be Christmas

Even though it all seems the same to me

Every time I think about it I get Charles Manson

Nice gun, what does it shoot? Balls?

Better not be a tree, because he has more balls

When I come in, everyone goes, "Wow."

Between 'if I call God, he answers me: "Woof"

I don't give a shit, but at least

I always destroy myself when I have dinner

I ate a pandoro with Morgan

There was only icing sugar

Christmas makes you fat as shit

And waste the food we need

I don't pray to an angel, I'm not in Bethlehem

I don't envy the tree because it's broke

I'm sorry if you were alarmed

But you are as out of place as someone who goes on the subway and shouts: "Allah" with a gun

What a bomb of a gift

Your girlfriend, boar

Always eating

He's not Santa Claus

But such a big oaf

If it gets me that bad

Maybe, maybe it will be Christmas

Even though it all seems the same to me

Every time I think about it I get Charles Manson

They already ask me what I do on New Year's Eve

I wonder what I'll do on New Year's Eve

You didn't see us in your club, you're blind

Dinner at Mc, Jesus Crispy McBacon, huh

And at dinner with the relatives, mh

I introduce myself and take my leave, mh

"When are you going to give us the little ones?" (Eh)

I answer: "When I defrost them" (Wow)

I have a recurring dream that attracts me

Convince the Vanzinas to film Christmas in Syria

So perhaps we can see what is happening in Palestine

And on opening day, I shoot myself in the mouth in the front row

Merry Christmas, assholes

With my brains on De Sica and Boldi

We are as empty as your drunken talk

Give each other gifts, not our business, it's better if you leave

Fuck off kindly

The difference is there and you can feel it

I am always fresh, evergreen

You are always cool, always green

I'm going to shout "Happy New Year" at an Easter lunch

I already know it's in Santa's sack

Another great album from a talent dad

Happy f- holidays, merry m- Christmas

December 25th, we are on alert

Happy f- holidays, merry m- Christmas

December 25th, we are on alert 🚨

@bigbonzo @boanerges20 @faccaldo

CHARLES MANSON (BUON NATALE2) (feat. Lazza) by Salmo, Dani Faiv, Nitro

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

i mean, hannibals also almost 2 inches taller than will so theres that too :(

what do you mean you "understand Hannibal Lecter"? He literally abused Will for 3 seasons.. he's a bad person!

[kramlabs]

[medievalandfantasymelee]

THE HOT MEDIEVAL & FANTASY MEN MELEE

FIRST ROUND: 68th Tilt

Rodrigo Borgia, The Borgias (2011-2013) VS. Lord Tywin Lannister, Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Propaganda

Rodrigo Borgia, The Borgias (2011-2013) Portrayed by: Jeremy Irons Defeated Opponents: - Jacques le Gris [Adam Driver], The Last Duel (2021)

“Look, what is sexier than a man who purrs sexily and knows canon law? Okay, so maybe that's just me. But that smooth, seductive voice full of terrible, brilliant ideas...! And the way he runs his hands up his lover's calves, the hunger with which he looks at her, the way he uses his religious authority (and knowledge of canon law) to make an argument for why they should totally have sex despite the fact that she's on her period? Hot. The way he says (while caressing a statue suggestively) that perhaps they could worship as the ancients did -- with joy? Hot. The way he welcomes an invading army clad only in a penitent's robe? Ohhhhhh this over-dramatic OTT bastard, I love him so much.”

Lord Tywin Lannister, Game of Thrones (2011-2019) Portrayed by: Charles Dance Defeated Opponents: - King Henry VIII [Ray Winstone], Henry VIII (2003)

“Well, to quote my best friend: “he just makes my inner peasant want to kneel.” He commands every room he’s in through sheer force of will, is one of very few people in Westeros who makes a good ruler (which is different than a good man), and Charles Dance is of the generation of English actors who have Those Cheekbones”

Additional Propaganda Under the Cut

Additional Propaganda

For Rodrigo Borgia:

"He is a little shit and he dresses swagly and he fucks and we love him for it.”

For Tywin Lannister:

“Have you ever seen a man so powerful that you give up your own willpower to follow him into death? Here is that man. Once glance from his steely gaze will set you on fire and get you pregnant even if you don't have a uterus. Good luck”

“Oof… Just look at him… Tall, regal, with piercing eyes, a commanding presence, and an equally commanding voice.”

[mywritersmind]

HIDE YOUR NAME NOT YOUR TEAM - LN4

summary : In which a pretty red head catches Lando’s eye one night in mexico, a rude remark and laughable flirting stays on both of their minds. The last thing Lando expects is to see her again in the paddock, while he’s determined to figure her out, she’s determined to hide her name and why she constantly is spotted in orange.

listen up : panic attack, sexual comments, comedy!! lando norris x bosses!daughter.

word count : 5404

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I don’t usually go to these things. But Alexandra convinced me when she said I could borrow her dyson.

“I take it back.” I say as I get my drink, we’re sat at the bar, Charles already gone to find some drivers, “Let’s go back to the hotel! Girls night!” I beg her but she just shakes her head.

“You look too hot for that.” I sigh, I do look hot tonight. I’m in a black mini dress, sheer tights, and knee high boots that are the same shade of burgundy red as my hair.

Just as she says that, Rebecca, Carlos’ girlfriend, comes up to us, “Y/n! You never come out with us!” She hugs me and I smile. I never do but I do like hanging with my girls.

“I had to drag her here!” Alex sips her drink as Rebecca laughs. We’re in Mexico for the grand prix, something I also rarely find myself at.

“Don’t make that face! You deserve a day off.” I sigh, knowing they’re right.

“Alright.” I down the rest of my drink, coughing and turning to the bartender, “Three shots please! Surprise us!”

The girls squeal and as soon as I sit back down, I know it’s gonna be a good night.

I’m multiple drinks in, dancing with my friends, when Carlos and Charles sweep my friends away like it’s nothing.

I scoff, going to walk off the dance floor before a man stops me, “Wanna dance?” I almost laugh when I see who it is. I can tell he sees me thinking about it, “I promise I don’t bite.”

⋆༺

LANDO NORRIS

I noticed her when she was dancing with some guy who was out of his mind wasted. I saw her hair first, a dark cherry red with messy waves.

I don’t know if she’s here with friends but I do know that I want to know more.

She’s staring at me like i’ve just asked her to do a backflip, “Uh… no.” She shakes her head and walks straight past me.

What the fuck?

I haven’t had a girl reject me in a long time, but it’s not unheard of. Still, something about her is telling me to not give up.

“Wait! I’ll buy you a drink!” I hurry after her, she’s flipping her hair over her shoulder and eyeing me, “Please?”

“Please?” She laughs, “You can’t find any other girl besides me?” She hops up onto a bar stool and I lean against the counter, staying close.

“Maybe I don’t want to.” She narrows her eyes at me. “I’m Lando.”

“Yeah, I know.” This surprises me.

“Oh! Well then you know I'm not a creep, so you’ll let me buy you a drink?” She crosses her arms, she seems to be assessing me.

“Fine.” I get her a dirty martini and water for myself. “Thank you.”

“I’ll always be down to buy a pretty girl a drink.” I smile as she sips her drink, “I never caught your name-”

“Mhm…” She looks around the club, obviously not interested in what I have to say.

“Okay, Red.” She doesn’t even flinch at the nickname, “Why are you in Mexico?”

She hums, “Family.” she lets out a long breath.

I frown at her lack of interest, “That’s fun. I’m racing here this weekend.” She doesn’t respond, “Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I promise I'm not like whatever shit magazine you read.”

She looks at me after that and I immediately know I fucked up. Except instead of throwing her drink on me, she just laughs, “God, you’re an asshole.” And with that, she walks away.

⋆༺

YOU

Lando Norris hitting on me was not something I expected from that night.

But it immediately became worse once I remembered why I was in Mexico.

“Sweetheart!” My dad hugs me tight. Zak Brown is a lot of things but a shit dad isn’t one of them. He’s in all orange, contrasting my white dress. I smile as he pulls back, “I’m so happy you’re here!”

I have gone to four grand prix’s in my life. It seems a bit odd for someone who’s father is there almost every weekend, but we had a deal. I was a sort of trouble child, more in my teens when I wanted more freedom. I took some years off of school but I realized what I was wasting and got right back into college.

My dad said I couldn’t come to a grand prix until I finished school. I was annoyed at first, who wouldn’t want to spend their weekends partying with rich people and flying on private jets? But I sort of fell in love with my studies in fashion and had no time anyway.

But I recently graduated and am back in my papaya fathers reach.

“How are you doing? Excited to be back?” I nod as I walk up the paddock with him.

“Very! I’ve missed everything, especially my friends.” He smiles and I’m happy I can make him do that in public.

“I’m so proud. Oh!” I see my nightmare in neon and freeze, “Come meet one of our drivers, he’s a bit like you, I think.” My dad looks back at my frozen position and frowns.

“I forgot I have to grab food with Lily! New friend duties, right! Remember how happy you are that i’m making friends!? Bye!” I turn around and run.

I end up meeting up with Lily because as soon as I heard myself say it, I suddenly really wanted to see her. Lily isn’t new to the paddock, but I’ve only met her a couple times. We follow each other on instagram and have DM’d multiple times.

After our taco and gossip session, practice started and I know I should be watching, but I want to explore more. So instead, I walk around the Paddock alone.

I seriously missed this environment. One of my favorite memories from when I was a kid was my dad walking me around the paddock. I love the hustle and bustle of the paparazzi, fans, and drivers.

I also love the quiet in the paddock while the cars are on track. I make it back inside, finally finding a bathroom and after fixing my hair and makeup, I wander more halls.

I don’t want to admit I'm lost, but I definitely am. I’m about to call Lily and Rebecca but realize I am a strong independent woman! That and I'm a tad embarrassed.

I turn yet another corner and see the worst person for this situation. I realize he hasn’t seen me yet but when I go to turn he eyes me, “Red?” He looks genuinely shocked and I'm even more shocked that he remembers me!

I laugh awkwardly, not knowing what to say. He’s in his race suit, sweaty, and way too good looking with it unzipped. He runs his hand through his curls, has he always been this attractive?

Sorry! Dickhead. I don’t like this man. He’s an asshole.

“What the fuck?” Is all he can say.

“Hey!” I smile, “Thanks for buying me that drink the other night…” When I left him at the bar, I did not think about the whole MY FATHER IS HIS BOSS thing.

“What are you doing here?” I hide my paddock pass behind my back, “Seriously. You’re not some stalker are you?”

I roll my eyes, “No but I am lost.” I can’t ask him to point me to the Mclaren garage because then he’ll ask why so I go for the next best thing, “I’m looking for the ferrari garage!” I need to text Alex right now.

“I’m still confused- you said you were in town for family.” Fuck my life.

“Yeah! Well… Alex is like family to me! And she invited me. Alex as in-“

“Charles’ girlfriend. Yeah I know.” He moves his water bottle from one hand to the other, stepping closer. “But, why would I help you if you think I'm an asshole?”

Okay. Good point.

“Because you think I'm pretty?” I smile and I can tell he’s biting back a laugh. “And because you were being pretty cocky!”

He nods, “Fair enough. Come with me.” I didn’t expect him to give in so easily.

“Hey, why were you in here anyways?” He shrugs and keeps walking for a bit before answering.

“Needed a breather.”

I nod, walking with him in silence, he opens the door for me and the sun hits up straight on. “So… how's the whole driving thing going?”

He glances at me, “It's alright. Quali tomorrow.”

“Good luck. Although I kinda hope you don’t get first.” He raises a brow. “I’m a big Piastri fan.”

He looks genuinely hurt, “I didn’t even think you watched.”

I frown, “Why wouldn’t I? I mean, I'm here.”

“Yeah but you… nevermind.”

I stop, turning to him, “You have to tell me now!”

He grins, looking away and continuing to walk, “You just didn’t have a reaction when I hit on you.” I scoff, “I know, I know! Dickish.”

I can’t help but laugh, “Honestly… fair enough. If I looked like you with the whole famous rich thing. I’d be pulling left and right.”

He eyes me, “So you think i’m attractive.” My face drops and I look ahead, “Hey it’s okay we already know I think you’re hot!” God if my dad ever heard this…

“Just shut up.” He does.

Until he doesn’t, “You really a big Oscar fan?”

I’m happy that I got under his skin with that one, “What if I said I liked Verstappen more?”

“I’d leave your lost ass right here.” Lando says it so serious that all I can do is laugh. He looks proud after I look at him again. “Seriously though.”

“Ferrari girl through and through.” He rolls those gorgeous green eyes of his, “McLaren might be second best though. Plus that Colapinto kid…”

He rolls his eyes, “You can’t like Franco more than me.”

“What, you jealous?” He points to turn and when we do, I see the garages in view.

“Gonna give me your name yet? Or am I sticking to Red?”

I pull his same move and avoid the question, “Thanks for showing me back.”

“Is it bad I like it when you’re mean to me?” I groan and walk away, “Bye, Red!”

“Later, Norris.”

⋆༺

“He doesn’t know who you are!?” Lily and Alexandra scream at the same time, we’re sitting in my hotel room when I called an emergency girls meeting. Except Rebecca is with Carlos to celebrate a little after his pole.

I cover my face with my hands, “But why does it matter!?”

“He’s obviously is hot for you.” Alex shrugs as Lily laughs, rolling onto her back.

“Babe, No wonder he’s so interested in you! I mean- besides the fact that you’re hilarious and drop dead gorgeous- he definitely is intrigued.”

I shake my head, “More like plotting to get me back for calling him an asshole.”

“Wait! You called him an asshole!?” Lily laughs even harder, “I love you!”

“Genuine question though… why don’t you go for it?” I stare at Alex as if she has two heads.

“Go for it!? Lando Norris?” She nods, “No way! Besides the fact that my dad is his boss, he’s way too cocky, and he doesn’t even know my name, I still wouldn’t go for him.”

“That’s kinda part of the appeal.” Alex shrugs, “What!? He knows nothing about you but thinks your hot! Seems like enough to me.”

We end up crying laughing, the conversation straying from Lando and to all the on track drama.

⋆༺

I’ve been avoiding the McLaren garage like the plague. I was there this morning but stayed on Oscar’s side. After meeting him, falling in love with him (platonically of course), and seeing that Lando was completely locked into Qualifying, I took my first breath of calmness.

The boys went out and I popped over to talk to Pato. Quali was over way quicker than I expected, After Oscar’s P17 a weird energy was in the garage and as soon as I saw Lando’s car, I was out of there.

What game am I even playing? Maybe it’s a little hot that he doesn’t know who I am… I don’t know why. Plenty of people have bugged me because of who my dad is, but Lando doesn’t need extra grand prix tickets or me to spot him money.

I find myself in a large room, it’s filled with chairs and a couch facing them. I grin immediately, how the hell is this just open?

I obviously am going to take my chance and pretend to be a talented man! The couch is not as comfortable as I expected and I almost fucking jump off of it when someone walks in.

He's breathing heavily and I recognize something’s wrong immediately. He’s pulling off the velcro of his race suit, unzipping it and pacing. “Lando.”

His head shoots up immediately, just staring at me, “Fuck Red, why are you everywhere?” His breath is labored and shaky.

I stand slowly as he slides down the wall, pulling his knees to his chest and leaning his head back. I’m confused because he seemed fine twenty minutes ago. P3 was not bad especially for where they are right now.

I start to say something but he just shakes his head, “I can’t.” He points to his throat and I realize he can’t breathe.

“I like your hair.” I say quickly, he looks so shocked when he looks up at me, “You look really good with it.” He keeps breathing heavily.

“Huh?”

“Although, you should ditch that fuck ass hat.” He tries to laugh but he’s still struggling. I slowly sit in front of him, “Seriously, who told you to wear that?”

“I- I have to.”

I roll my eyes but my hands are shaking. I’m not a stranger to a panic attack and seeing it happen to someone in front of me is a little scary, “Free will? I mean we all know you have it with the amount of times you whip out your middle finger.”

He laughs again, breathy, but his breathing seems to be getting slower.

“You definitely have free will.” he chokes out, “Saw you- today. Flirting with Lewis.” He got me there.

“Okay! Have you seen him? Who wouldn’t!?”

He shakes his head, “He’s way older.”

“Some people might find that hot.” He side eyes me, “Don’t worry I'm still into guys my own age.”

He’s smiling, nodding. We stay silent for a moment, his head resting against his knees as he catches his breath. He finally slides his legs out in front of him and I scoot next to him.

I tap my neck to ask for permission and he understands immediately, nodding. My hand slips to his neck, feeling his pulse.

“I used to have panic attacks a lot last year.” I explain as I feel his heart underneath my touch. He doesn’t say anything, just looking into my eyes. I swallow, “Your heart is going crazy.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, “Yeah I don’t think that’s because of the panic attack.”

I give him a look, “Seriously? Even in distress you’re a flirt.”

He licks his lips, “You’re good at calming people.”

“All I did was talk, not that hard.” My hand is still on his neck. “Are you okay?”

He swallows, looking away just as I drop my hand back to my side, “Mhm. Thank you.” His hand goes to mine as if it’s nothing. I’m shaking. He rests his head against the wall, closing his eyes, and squeezing my hand. “I think I owe you another drink, Red.”

⋆༺

It’s not until after more press and the conference is over, when Lando finds me again.

“Let me buy you dinner.” I raise a brow, “Come on, as a thank you.”

“You already said thank you.” I sip my water as he frowns. He’s out of his race suit and into jeans and a McLaren shirt.

“Just let me take you out.”

“Are you feeling okay?” I reach up and press the back of my hand to his forehead, “Oh no! Seems like you have a case of aiming high.” He mocks me as I cross my arms.

“Red, If you’re that high, I'll take my McLaren rocket ship and meet you.” I laugh at his words.

“A bit late on the whole rocket ship thing.” He sighs.

“We’ll have fun. Please. Why not?” He goes through five emotions in two seconds.

“You’re sinister, evil, and orange.” My eyes stray who who’s also orange and walking quickly up to us, “Shit.” I don’t mean to say it out loud.

Lando turns around quickly, then back to me, “Don’t tell me you’re scared of Zak. I’ll introduce you-”

“No! I’m not! I gotta go!”

“Wha- Red!” I walk away so fast that I don’t see the man rounding the corner.

“Y/n?” Oscar looks at me confused, “Alright?”

“Hi!” I quickly move past him but he follows.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lando is trying to introduce me to Zak Brown.” I say simply as we turn another corner and Oscar frowns.

“Zak Brown as in your dad Zak Brown?” I look at him, nodding. Then he laughs, “He doesn’t know who you are?”

“Nope. Sort of a long story but I'm in too deep now.” I cross my arms and he starts laughing harder.

“I’m completely here for this- Just one question though… how the fuck does he not know who you are? You’ve been in the garage.”

“He’s blind and I'm a mastermind?” I shrug and of course, Lando finds us.

“Red! No!” He groans when he sees Oscar, “Osc, Don’t convert her into a you fan i’m trying so hard to get her to like me!” Oscar laughs harder, covering his mouth and looking at me.

“I don’t need to be converted! I’m already an Oscar fan!” Lando frowns as I shake my head.

“Don’t worry mate, everyone’s an Oscar fan.” He pats Lando on the shoulder before leaving. “See ya…” I can tell he’s about to say my name but he stops himself.

Lando narrows his eyes at me, “He knows your name?” I bite my lip and walk away. “Hey wait! Any thoughts about tonight?”

I glance back at him, “Don’t you have a race to be preparing for?”

He smirks, catching up to me, “Wanna know my pre race ritual?” I push him away from me, “I’ll give you a hint.” He winks and my stomach does a weird flip.

“You’re never gonna stop, are you?” I place my hands on my hips, looking up at the man.

“Tell me to, and I will.” I stay quiet, his eyes meeting mine and the corner of his lip quirking up. Someone calls his name but his eyes stay on me, smiling. He leans down and taps his knuckles against his hand, “Bye, Red.”

⋆༺

Although Lando has been running around my head, I still have other duties besides being flirted with. I’m at dinner with my dad, it’s been a while since it’s been just the two of us. And I will say, I missed it.

He’s busy and obviously distracted but i’m grateful for any time I get with him. We’re in the Paddock but everybody is gone except for a few engineers and workers.

“Tell me about your weekend! I haven’t seen you much in the garage.” He takes a bite out of his salad, looking down at his texts.

“I’ve been around.” I shrug, drinking my lemonade, “It’s good to be back. But I have been sneaking off with my friends a bit…”

He smiles, “I’m glad. Even if you aren’t cheering us on.” I laugh, “You will be watching from the garage tomorrow, though.”

I nod, “Yes yes, I know.”

We get into a conversation about the issues with my apartment and how he thinks I should move back home. I get the feeling that he’s worried about tomorrow and suddenly wonder if he’s like this every weekend.

My dad gets a call which ends our dinner early, “I gotta grab my bag then I'll head to the hotel.” I kiss him on the cheek and make my way to the garage.

There’s a few people hanging back, some looking at screens and someone laying on the floor, looking at Lando’s back wing.

I grab my purse, rummaging around in it to make sure my phone is there. “You sure you’re not stalking me, Red?” That damn voice makes me jump.

He's sitting on the floor next to his own car, his arms and black shirt dirty. Was he… fixing his car?

I raise a brow, “What are you doing?” He takes the rag next to him and wipes off his hands, standing up.

“What are you doing?”

I cross my arms, “Stealing information for ferrari.” He smirks, shaking his head and walking past me to grab his water.

“Instead of having dinner with me? You need to sort your priorities out.”

I flip my hair over my shoulder, “Do you work on your own car often?”

“I can’t do much but I do like to see how it looks.” He shrugs, leaning against the wall and glancing at the people working, “You seriously not gonna tell me who you know at McLaren? You obviously have an in.”

He waves to the people who are packing up and walking out. We are now alone.

I hum, knowing there’s no chance I'm about to tell him who my ‘in’ is. He laughs a bit, “Alright, stay mysterious. Wanna sit in it?” I almost think I didn’t hear him correctly.

“What?” He nods, standing and walking over to his car, “Come on, don’t tell me you’ve already driven one or something.”

I smile, shaking my head and walking towards him, “No. I used to kart but I’m actually shit at it.” He laughs, beckoning me closer. “Won’t you get in trouble for this?”

He brings his finger to his lips, shushing me as I stand in front of him, “Okay put your foot here,” he points, “And hold onto this.” He points again and I do as I'm told.

I hate to admit it, but I am quite clumsy. When I slip a bit, his hands go to catch me instantly. Thank you driver reaction practice.

He lifts me down into the seat, his hands regretfully leaving me. I look up at him, “For once, you look tall.” His smile drops, leaning over me.

“You’re one to talk.” He scoffs and starts pointing at things. I try to listen but his hand is right in front of my face and I’m genuinely surprised how much I don’t know.

“You’re so far down.” I hum, holding my hands out as if I'm driving, “My back already hurts.” He smiles and kneels next to me.

“You look good in here. Seems like a complete hazard though, even if the car isn’t on.” I tilt my head up to look at him. A curl is falling perfectly in his face. “I didn’t wear the hat as much today, what’d you think?”

I smile at the fact that he listened to my bullshit, “How are you, by the way?”

He nods, avoiding my eyes and messing around with something on the car, “Fine.”

“So the whole panic attack thing was just for fun?” He eyes me, biting his lip.

“Thank you again, It was kinda embarrassing but you made me feel better.” I chew the inside of my cheek, smiling softly at his expression. He looks tired, but a big step up from earlier.

I’ve seen Lando a million times. He’s on posters, all over my feed, in my dads photo dumps, billboards, ads… But none of that can compare to the real thing.

He shoots up so fast that I’m about to laugh and ask what he’s doing, but he starts talking to someone. “Lando!” It’s my dad. Alarm bells ring in my ears as my hand goes over my mouth. Okay. He can’t see me, I know that at least. “I thought you’d already left!”

Lando laughs awkwardly, I think he’s standing in front of the car now. “Uh! Wanted to make sure everything’s good with the car. Guess I lost track of time.”

I hear my dad laugh, rummaging around, “Get some sleep, kid.” I think we’re in the clear until I hear sneakers squeaking, “You haven’t seen a girl come in here, have you?”

My heart rate skyrockets as Lando clears his throat, “Nope. But I've been pretty distracted with the car.”

“Alright well… I have someone to introduce you to tomorrow! Get some rest and drink water!” The door shuts and I hear Lando sigh heavily.

I stand up and messily get out of the car, “I thought for sure I was dead!” Lando says, running a hand through his hair and shivering, “Sorry about that.”

“No worries! I don’t want to get you in trouble though so I should go…” He nods, looking a bit disappointed.

“Want me to walk you out?” I can’t help but smile softly at the soft way he says it.

“I know my way, Thanks though.” I grab my bag, thanking god my dad didn’t see it before, “Rest up.” I mock my dad as Lando chuckles.

“With you on my mind, that’ll be difficult.” I pretend like my cheeks aren’t on fire and open the door.

“Dream about me, then.”

⋆༺

The party environment of the Mexican Grand Prix is all I needed today. I’m in a white dress with marigolds embroidered at the bottom, a flower in my hand from one of the people who are painted.

I laugh with Rebecca and Alex as we walk through the paddock, their boyfriends already getting ready for the drivers parade.

I haven’t told them about last night. I mean, what is there to tell? I swipe my lipgloss on, checking my makeup in the reflection of Rebecca’s glasses.

“Is Carlos nervous for today?” I ask her as she smiles at his name.

“I think so, but I’m really hopeful for a good result.” we continue walking, “Hopefully I don’t jinx it.”

“Hey, Y/n.” Alex nudges me, “Someone just arrived.” She winks as we all turn to look at the Paddock entrance behind us.

Lando Norris.

He’s wearing a Quadrant crewneck and a big smile. He signs something for a tiny fan and hurry’s past the photographers.

He almost walks past us, but he does a double take. He looks happy, I’m glad. “Rebecca, Alex.” He doesn’t stop walking as he politely greets them. His eyes meet mine and his expression changes, “Hey, Red.”

I smile softly before he turns and practically runs away, “Yup! He’s in love.”

I swat Rebecca’s arm as she laughs, “Goodbye!”

“No!” Alex laughs, “Come get coffee!”

I shake my head, “I told Pato I would grab breakfast with him, I’ll see you later!”

I smile at the two of them as they wave and we split up, me going to McLaren and them to Ferrari.

⋆༺

Breakfast is good, we watch the drivers go around and laugh at George who is shivering like a leaf. I say goodbye to him as soon as the drivers parade ends.

I need to see my dad before the craziness begins. “Dad!” I smile as he sits on the pit wall.

“Sweetie!” He smiles and waves me over, letting me sit with him.

“Ready for today?” I ask as he looks over data.

He nods, “Definitely!” He crosses his fingers and I smile, looking over the data with him. He knows I have no clue what we’re looking at so he explains it to me.

I lean in to look at the tiny words when my dad gets distracted, “Oh!” I hear him say but i’m trying to decipher this code still, “I have someone for you to meet!” I’ve met a million different people this week so I smile and stick out my hand like usual, “Lando! This is my daughter Y/n.”

I stare at him. His smile drops for a second, then a look of panic washes over him before he takes a breath and shakes my hand.

“Nice to meet you.” I almost whisper it. He’s looking at me and I feel like I'm about to get swallowed whole.

His face contorts again, he looks like he’s finally cracked me, “Pleasure” My dad looks away and Lando takes that second to narrow his eyes, a smirk still on his face.

I drop his hand as my dad looks at us again, “I think Y/n has been avoiding the garage! I would have introduced you days ago!”

Lando’s jaw ticks, “Not a McLaren girl?”

I can’t help but smile, “Ferrari through and through.”

My dad shakes his head, “Don’t mind her odd preferences…” he’s about to say something else but gets pulled away by someone in orange.

Lando just looks at me, my cheeks hot as he examines me. I expect him to be mad, but he just smiles, “Y/n, huh?” I nod shyly, “It’s pretty. It fits you.”

“Okay! Lan you gotta go!” My dad claps a hand on his shoulder, dragging him away.

“Good luck!” I say quickly as he shoots me a devious look. I take a breath I didn’t know I was holding in, and watch him leave.

⋆༺

The race has me on the edge of my seat for all 71 laps. I accidentally gasp way too loud at Lando being pushed off track and maybe start clapping when it’s announced that Max got two penalties.

The whole time I have a feeling that Lando will be on that podium, but definitely not in third.

My manifestation comes true when Charles goes off track and Lando zooms by.

Ten laps to go and I don’t think I've taken a deep breath in twenty. But the moment Lando passes the finish line, the garage claps and I sigh in relief.

I hug my dad but I watch the podium ceremony from the side, smiling as the boys get sprayed with champagne while laughing.

I see Rebecca with tears in her eyes and when I look back to the podium, I see Lando looking at me. He's grinning, holding his bottle of champagne and pouring it into his mouth before winking at me.

If he’s still acting like this after he found out my dad is his boss, then I am unexplainably screwed. And I couldn’t be happier about it.

After the podium, I walk back to the garage, but Lando catches me first, pulling me into a hidden area. He’s soaked in champagne and grinning like an idiot, “Have fun out there?” I ask, crossing my arms.

He nods, “Think i’m cool yet?”

“A bit… maybe when I watch you win.” His smile grows, his chest rising and falling quickly.

“Go out with me.” I laugh at his words, “For real this time! Y/n.” He says my name like a prayer and I never want it to stop.

“I guess I sort of owe you.”

He nods enthusiastically, “Y/n Brown. What a name… I knew you had an in!”

I shake my head, “I’m sorry. But it was fun messing with you.”

He sighs in defeat, “I feel much better that I know who you are. Although I almost passed out when the words ‘daughter’ left Zak’s mouth!” I laugh with him, champagne dripping down his curls still.

“You did really well today.”

He bites his lip, “Think of how much better I'll do knowing you’re screaming my name in the garage.” I swat his arm but he swerves and plants a kiss on my cheek.

My jaw drops as he pulls back, “I’ll pick you up tonight!” he starts walking away, backwards, “I’ll text you!”

“You don’t even have my number!” I yell after him but he just winks and blows me a kiss. Just as I turn back around and roll my eyes, I see my dad in front of me, arms crossed as my eyes go wide.

He sighs, looking like he already has a headache, “What the hell did I miss?”

[imaginedisish]

Hungry Like the Wolf (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Loved this request. Thank you so much anon! Here is the *jealous sex* with Logan. Inspired by "Hungry Like the Wolf" by Duran Duran. Enjoy!

Summary: You're cornered by a scum-bag frat-boy while on a mission in a club, and Logan gets possessive, deciding he needs to remind everyone who you're really with.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Oral (f!receiving), fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up), rough/jealous sex, jealous!Logan, softdom!Logan, implied!age gap, creepy unnamed OC who doesn't fuck off, Logan gets a little (very) possessive, breeding kink?(if you squint), mention of alcohol, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 3,513

This has to be the most ridiculous mission Charles has ever sent the team on. 

Music pulses through your body, the bass of the song shaking the dance floor and the walls of the club. Everything feels blurred, unstable, just out of your grasp. Colored lights flash rapidly, and you look around hoping to find Logan out of the corner of your eye. Naturally, he’s nowhere to be seen, and neither is the rest of the team. 

“A club? You’re sending us to get information from a club?” Logan spat, furrowing his brows. 

Charles tilted his head to the side, taking a deep breath. “I assure you all, this is well thought out. The information on the sentinels will be placed by the informant on a napkin underneath a martini at the bar at promptly 12:45 AM.”

Logan shook his head, and Scott scoffed. “What is it, big guy? Afraid to have a little fun for once?” “Shut the fuck up, four eyes,” Logan said back. You couldn’t help but laugh at his gruffness, at the way he put Scott in his place. 

“Enough,” Charles commanded. “The club is called Nightmoves. Be there by 12:20 AM, no later. Is that understood?” Charles looked to you, Scott, Jean, Logan, and Jubilee individually, and waited for each of you to nod. 

“Fine,” Logan huffed. 

But now you’re here, alone, somehow separated from the team. You look at the watch on your wrist: 12:44 AM. Shit, you think to yourself, glancing at the bar. You see a hooded figure alone on the far-left side, and you start to make your way over. The person picks up a martini glass, places a new napkin underneath, and walks away. You look back down at your watch: 12:45 AM. 

You rush over to the bar, pick up the martini glass, and grab the napkin. The white, thick paper has small numbers scrawled on the back of it in neat, black ink—a set of coordinates. You smile, folding the napkin carefully, and stuffing it into the front pocket of your leather pants. 

“Hi there,” an unfamiliar, male voice calls from behind you. You turn around to find a young, 20-something-year-old frat boy ogling you, his eyes trailing up and down your body. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before. Would’ve remembered.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes and smile politely instead. “First time here,” you shout over the music. “And probably my last. I’m heading out, so if you’ll excuse me—” 

“Let me buy you a drink,” he cuts you off, stepping closer to you. 

You take a step back, bumping into the counter of the bar. “I’m alright. Really, I’m not staying—”

“Aw come on, I don’t bite,” he persists. “Unless that’s what you’re into.”

You scoff, disgusted. “Listen, and fucking trust me when I say this, I am not into you. Got it?”

“Hard to get, I like that.” You audibly groan at his ridiculous, disgusting comment, trying to step towards the edge of the bar to make your escape. But he reaches his arm out, his knuckles brushing against your bare shoulder. “You know you want me, baby. Don’t try to—”

The man stops short, his jaw dropping. You take another step to the side, bumping into someone unmistakably warm and familiar. “I think she’s made herself clear, bub,” Logan says from behind you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and tugging you in closer. 

“A-and who are you?” The man rolls his eyes. “Her father or something?”

“Fuck off, bub,” Logan growls, backing you away from the man. “You’re a disrespectful piece of shit. She told you no, and yet you kept badgering my girl.” 

The man swallows harshly, wracking his brain for something to say, for some excuse. “W-well maybe she wanted it!”

“Wanted it?” You groan, rolling your eyes. “Fucking prick.” Logan tugs you away, flipping the guy off with his claw. The frat boy responds by yelling Fucking freaks! shrilly over the synth-pop blasting through the speakers. 

“You okay?” Logan asks, his lips at the shell of your ear as he guides you through the club. “Did he hurt you? Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine, really,” you assure. “Just a fucking weirdo.” But Logan isn’t letting up. His arm is wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you close while guiding you through the crowded club. “I-I got the napkin,” you say, but Logan doesn’t answer. Just when you think he’s heading out the door, he takes a sharp left towards a dimly lit hallway.

He lets go of his grip on your waist, reaching for your hand instead, his fingers intertwining with yours. He doesn’t say a word as he walks past a set of doors—the bathrooms, the coat room, and an office. He looks behind him before trying the knob of a closed door. The knob twists and Logan pushes the door open, pulling you inside with him. 

“Logan, what are you—”

He shoves you against the door as the room envelops you in darkness, his hands fumbling on either side of your head for a light switch. There’s a click, and the light switches on, revealing a spacious broom closet. Logan cages you in, his chest heaving, his forehead pressing against yours. 

You bring your hands up to his neck, but he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head. “Lo,” you whisper, his lips just inches from yours. You can see the jealousy in his eyes, the possessiveness, the protectiveness. He knows you can handle yourself—knows that you’re even more powerful than he is. And Logan isn’t normally the jealous type—he trusts you endlessly. But something set him off tonight—he’s almost feral. He works his jaw, looking down at you under dark, lust-filled eyes. He grips your wrists tightly.  

“Need you now, pretty girl,” he growls. “Nobody touches you but me.” His lips capture yours, hungry, needy, desperate. He’s swallowing you whole. “My girl.” His teeth graze your bottom lip. Everything is rushed and hazy, rough and impatient. “Fucking mine.” 

“Yours,” you mumble against his lips. “Only yours.”

One of his hands releases its hold on your wrists and slides down your body, toying with the straps of your tank top. “Gonna fuck you, pretty girl,” Logan husks, his fingertips trailing across your collarbone, teasingly tugging at the neckline of your top. “You want that?” “Y-yes,” you stutter, your knees buckling as he palms your breasts, massaging gently, brushing over your nipples. “Please.”

 His hand glides down to the hem at the bottom of your top, slipping underneath. His fingers trail over your bare skin, across your stomach, and up to your breasts. He smirks darkly at the realization that you aren’t wearing a bra. He hums, pulling your shirt up the rest of the way, revealing your chest to him. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he praises, teasing your nipples with one hand while the other still pins your wrists tightly against the door. “Want everyone to know who you belong to,” he husks, pinching a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and then repeating on the other side. 

“Y-you,” you moan, rocking your hips against Logan’s, searching for friction, for some kind of relief. “Always want you.” You grind down on his thigh impatiently. 

“Need me that bad, huh?” Logan teases, pushing his hips against yours. You can feel his erection straining through the denim of his jeans. “Don’t think I’m too old for you?” He asks, half serious. “Don’t think that guy can fuck you better than me?”

“N-no,” you stammer, your chest heaving against his. “Th-that guy was an idiot,” you breathe, struggling to find your words as Logan’s hand slips down your body, suddenly palming your heat. “I just want you, Logan.”

His fingers brush over your all too-clothed cunt, toying with you. “I know, darlin’,” he soothes. His hand reaches up to the waistband of your pants, working at your button and zipper. He lets go of his grasp around your wrist as he drops to his knees. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leather pants, pulling them and your panties down with one fluid motion. He spreads your legs with the palms of his hands as he settles between your thighs. 

“Lo,” you whine, his face so close to your cunt that you can feel his every breath. A shiver runs down your spine, anticipation and heat growing in your already aching core. “Please,” you beg. “Need you, always need—”

And then he’s lapping at your clit, burying his face inside your cunt. His tongue laves through your folds, savoring you, exploring you. “Tastes so good, beautiful,” Logan mumbles against you. “Always so sweet, so perfect.”

You curse under your breath, holding back your moans as Logan’s hand trails up your inner thigh, climbing towards your folds. His teeth graze your clit as he pulls the bud between his lips and sucks roughly. His fingertips nudge your slit open, spreading your slick. 

“Wanted to fuck you on that bar,” Logan husks. He finally thrusts two fingers deep inside you, down to his knuckles. “Wanted everyone to know who you’re with, who makes you feel good.” He slides all the way out only to shove his fingers back in. 

“F-fuck,” you whimper as Logan pumps in and out. “Logan.”

“That’s right, pretty girl,” Logan grunts against you, his tongue drawing tight circles around your clit. “Wanna hear you say my name again.”

“L-Logan,” you pant, his thrusts growing faster, his fingers dragging along your inner walls, hitting that sweet spot deep inside every time. He takes your clit back into his mouth, sucking roughly again. You bite your lip, holding back your moans. 

But Logan notices. His tongue slows to a stop, his fingers suddenly still inside you. He looks up at you, squirming against him, searching for relief, and he smirks. “No holding back, princess,” he demands, watching your hips rock against his fingers. “Wanna hear you. Want everyone to hear how good I make you feel.”

You nod, swallowing harshly as his fingers pull out, adding a third finger as he slams back into you. “Fuck!” You groan. Logan’s tongue laps at your clit again, flicking the bud mercilessly. His name falls from your lips like a chant, a prayer, a hymn. 

“Doing so good for me,” Logan praises, the vibrations of his voice rocking against your core. “Such a good fucking girl.” Your walls flutter around his fingers as he sinks deeper, still working you open with every thrust. 

“L-Lo, I’m so close,” you groan. His teeth graze your clit as he smiles against you, taking the bud between his lips and sucking again—longer this time, and harder. You can feel yourself slipping, falling apart under his touch. “Please, I wanna come, Lo.”

“Yeah?” He mumbles, his gaze finding yours. You can see the starvation in his eyes, that possessiveness from before. “Wanna feel you come on my fingers, pretty girl.” Your muscles contract at his words, your knees buckling as pleasure courses through your veins. “Wanna taste it.” He pumps in and out, harder, deeper, his tongue still drawing those delicious, tight circles around your clit. 

His voice darkens. “Wanna be the only one who ever gets to do this to you.”

And then your orgasm crashes into you, wave after wave, destroying you and building you back up. It’s overwhelming—your legs trembling as Logan continues to lap at you, to consume you, to commit your taste to memory. You cry out his name as you come, melting into the door as he works you through it. 

Logan’s pumps slow until his fingers are still inside you. He gently pulls out, leaving you feeling empty. His tongue licks long stripes through your folds and up to your clit, savoring every last drop of you. 

“Lo,” you whine, bringing your hands down to his head. You tangle your fingers into his hair, and he hums against you. “Lo,” you call again, and he finally looks up, his face pulling away from your cunt. “Need you now.” 

Logan smirks, standing up and unbuckling his belt. “Need you too, beautiful,” he huffs, letting the belt fall to the floor as he works at his button and zipper. “Always fucking need you.” He tugs his jeans and his boxers down his legs. He drags his beater up and over his head, casting it to the ground. 

He suddenly hoists you up, leaning you against the door, his hand gripping your ass, the tip of his cock nudging against your entrance. “Please,” you beg, trying to sink down onto him, but he holds you back, pushing your hips into the door. 

“So fucking impatient,” Logan teases, suddenly thrusting into you, bottoming out, splitting you open. 

Your arms wrap around his back, and he presses his forehead to yours. He’s deep inside you, unmoving. “Lo,” you whine. “P-please, m-move.”

“Wanna feel you first,” he grunts, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “So fucking tight,” he murmurs, his lips meeting yours again. “So warm, fuck.” He finally pulls out and thrusts all the way back in, somehow deeper this time. 

“Logan,” you moan, digging your nails into his back. “Fuck me, please.”

He slides out, his cock dragging along your walls, and slams back in. “Like that?” He grunts, filling you up. “Want me to fuck you into this door?” You hum a soft yes, and Logan rams into you, his hips snapping roughly. 

“It feels so good,” you whimper, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing along the walls of the closet. “Only want you, Lo.”

“I know, pretty girl,” Logan soothes, his free hand slipping between your bodies and finding your clit. He begins to draw tight, rapid circles around the bud. “F-fuck, you’re mine. This is my fucking pussy, isn’t it?” “Yes,” you whisper as he fucks into you. “All yours. Always.”

Logan groans as he thrusts deeper, harder. His pace is insatiable, unrelenting, frantic. His thumb strokes your clit, adding more pressure with every swipe. You know he’d do anything to get you there, to have you falling apart in his arms. You know he wants to make you come again and again—to prove to you that he’s all you need—to make you feel good. No, better than good. Whole. Perfect. Satisfied. 

Your walls flutter around him as he flicks your overstimulated clit. “A-already close,” you whine as Logan plunges into you, his hips snapping against yours. 

“I know, beautiful,” he coos, pinching your clit. “Can feel you squeezing me.” He thrusts in and out, pushing you closer to that edge. Your walls flutter again, and Logan bites your pulse point, licking soothingly once he’s finished. “Let go for me, pretty girl.” It’s a demand, not a request. “Wanna feel you come.” 

It’s all liquid heat and warm thick honey, the tension snapping as you come undone again. But you know Logan isn’t finished with you yet. You know there’s more to come. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you moan a string of curses and Logan’s name. 

“That’s it,” Logan says softly, pressing a kiss to that spot just underneath your ear. “Taking me so well, letting me make you feel good.” His thumb is still on your clit, drawing those tight little circles while his hips pound into you. “I know you’ve got one more in you, princess. Know you can take it.”

“It’s s-so much,” you choke, the tension already building back up at the bottom of your belly. “I-I…” You trail off, fucked out beyond belief. He’s still splitting you open with every thrust, filling you to the brim. 

“It’s okay, princess,” Logan whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. The intimacy sends a pulse of pleasure to your core. “I’ve got you, just wanna make you feel good.” You curse under your breath as he ruts into you, working at your clit.  

You know you can’t last much longer. Not with the way his eyes watch every moan escape from your lips, or the way his hips roll against yours, searching for more, always finding a way to sink deeper. He wants all of you, always. And you’re more than happy to give yourself to him time and time again. 

“You feel so good,” you whine, your muscles contracting and releasing as his cock pumps in and out. “Only you, Lo.”

“F-fuck,” Logan moans, his pace faltering, his hips stuttering. He flicks your clit, edging you along. You know he’s close, his cock throbbing inside you, twitching as your walls squeeze him. “Wanna fill you up,” he husks, shoving himself deeper. “Wanna make you mine.”

“I’m all yours,” you whimper. Logan pinches your clit, circling roughly, and the current drags you under. It’s more intense this time, stars flooding your vision as you let go. Your orgasm wracks through your body, leaving you a quivering mess as Logan finishes inside you, painting your walls. 

You share one breath, your chests heaving together as Logan’s cock stalls inside you. He strokes your clit as he fills you up, riding out your orgasm, easing you down from your high. His fingertips slip away from your bud and trail up your body, his arm wrapping around your back. He pulls you into his chest, holding you close, his cock still half-hard inside you. 

“I love you,” he whispers into the crook of your neck, his possessiveness and jealousy are replaced by the softness he reserves just for you. “So fucking much.”

“I love you too, Lo,” you whisper back. You can hear the bass of the music pouring through the club, and you suddenly remember the mission at hand. “We should go. The others are probably worried.”

“Don’t care about the others,” Logan mumbles, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Just care about you.”

You smirk, shaking your head, trying to wiggle yourself free from Logan’s iron grip. “Really, Lo. We need to leave. I have the napkin in my pocket. It’s the coordinates to—”

He cuts you off, pressing a kiss to your lips as he settles you back down. He pulls up his jeans and boxers, starting the process of putting everything back in its proper place.

“Relax,” he mutters, sinking down to the ground. He grabs a roll of paper towels from a nearby rack and rips off a sheet, cleaning your inner thighs. He throws the sheet into the garbage and pulls your pants and panties back up your legs. 

Logan tugs your tank top down over your breasts and swipes your hands away as you reach to button and zipper your pants back up. He takes over the task for you, bringing his hands to your face once he’s done. His thumbs gently brush underneath your eyes, likely clearing away whatever mascara or eyeliner smeared while he was fucking you. 

“You okay?” He asks once he’s done, his arms wrapping around your back and pulling you into his chest. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, letting him hold you for a second before slipping your hand into your front pocket to make sure the napkin is still there. You let out a sigh of relief when you brush your fingertips against the coarse paper. “Never better.”

“Good,” Logan whispers, letting you go and grabbing his belt and beater from off the floor. He pulls the beater up and over his head, and then slides the belt through the loops of his jeans, securing the buckle. He grabs your hand, his eyes looking deeply into yours. “Ready?” He asks, and you nod. Logan twists the knob of the door and pushes it open, the pulsing music and lights of the club flooding your senses.

You walk towards the entrance, and find Scott, Jubilee, and Jean surveying the club, likely looking for you and Logan. 

“Let’s go,” Logan shouts over the music, getting the team’s attention.  Scott steps towards Logan. “Where did you go?” He yells. “We were getting worried.”

Logan reaches into your front pocket, and you can feel the heat rising to your chest as he squeezes your thigh and pulls the paper out. “She got the napkin. That’s all that matters.” 

You know Scott is rolling his eyes underneath those glasses. Jean smirks and shakes her head, and Jubilee laughs. You make your way to the exit, pushing through the doors and into the quiet of the parking lot. 

“You know, Logan,” Scott chides as you walk to the car. “I heard some guy talking about a freak flipping him off with a silver claw. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” He asks, condescension and sarcasm heavy in his voice. 

You look at Logan and he smirks. “Had to put an asshole in his place,” he says nonchalantly, his arm wrapping around your waist. He presses a kiss to your temple. “My girl,” he whispers against the shell of your ear so only you can hear. 

His. 

Nobody else’s. 

tags: @galacticglitterglue @buck-angel31 @alsoprettyinpink @annabelldoesstuffz @starrdustss @figsnpassionfruits @spiderset @ilysmdovie12 @prettyseaveins @silversprings-mp3 @fanfic-writing-barbie @movhoney @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @manipulatour @pedrohoe04 @derbygracie @honeyfewr @evasmlp @rammakela @cosmiccandydreamer (if I forgot to add you I'm so sorry)

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - ANNUAL GALA

A/N: A new smutty one-shot. I tried. I don't think it's good. But let me know what you think.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Avenger female reader

Warning: smut

My stories are written for mature audiences - 18+!

Words: 4200+

Important note: Hugh Jackman!Wolverine (which means he's tall as fuck!)

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - ANNUAL GALA

Tony Stark had invited Charles Xavier and his X-men to an annual gala he held in New York. There were many reasons for that. The Avengers and X-men worked together during difficult missions and unexpected alien threats. Also, he wanted to prove to regular citizens and high-profile politicians that mutants were not the enemy. This was the perfect opportunity for both groups to strengthen their bonds and work relationships. 

That’s how Logan had found himself, in a fancy all-black tux, standing at the bar with a drink in his hand. His glare could kill anyone who rubbed him the wrong way. He wasn’t fond of these gatherings, and yet here he was. His eyes were searching for any threat, ready to fight anyone who would seem too suspicious to him.

“You didn’t have to come here, you know,” Hank chuckled when he approached Logan at the bar. “Nobody forced you to come here.”

Logan rolled his eyes and sipped on his whisky. “I know how important these things are,” he growled. “Charles wanted me to be here, so I’m here.” 

“Uh-huh,” Hank rolled his eyes. He ordered a drink. When the bartender had given him the drink with shaking hands, he had to chuckle. Some people were spooked by his blue fur and beasty look. “Isn’t it because you are waiting for a certain someone?” 

Logan sighed, defeated. Hank knew damn well that his friend had built some connection with a certain female Avenger. There was no denying he was waiting for her. “You really wanna go there, furball?” He tried to avoid the question. 

“Oh, come on, Logan. Everyone can see how you are smitten with that woman,” he chuckled. “It’s kinda nice.”

“I am not smitten,” he denied. Fuck, but even Charles constantly made comments and teased him about it. “By the way, shut your mouth, McCoy. I don’t want to hear shit from you. You’ve been eyeing that reporter from News 1.” 

That made Hank roar with laughter. He sipped his drink and turned to the crowd, watching people mingle around, talk and drink. “I’m not denying that. She’s pretty, we like to talk about science. You, on the other hand, keep denying everything. But we are not blind.”

Logan wanted to throw the drink at Hank. He would, if they’d be back in the mansion. He opened his mouth to snap back at him. But the energy shifted to the grand stairs. Logan’s eyes travelled there, wanting to know what the fuss was about.

Yelena Belova and Y/N Y/L/N walked down the stairs with linked arms. Both looked beautiful in their evening gowns and perfect hair. Yelena had a green satin dress. Y/N chose a sparkling black dress that hugged her figure perfectly, with a slit on her left thigh. 

Oh, if he could, Logan would drool like a dog. It was one thing when she wore that damn tight suit during missions, but this made him hard instantly. Fuck. Maybe this was the day he would have a heart attack. And she’d be the cause of it.

His blood started to boil when many men gave her attention. Once the women left the stairs, they were surrounded by testosterone. Yelena was a pretty lady, too. He had to admit that. Y/N was something different. She felt like a dream, a secret naughty fantasy that he wanted to come to life. 

“Close your mouth or you’ll swallow a fly,” Hank said. 

Logan drank the rest of the whisky in one go, eyes never leaving Y/N’s figure on the main floor. Hell, even her teammates danced around her. Where did this jealousy come from? 

He thought about the day they met. It was an accidental mission, where the Avengers were also present. While Charles and Captain Amerika talked after the finished mission, Logan’s eyes were focused on the woman who caught his attention. 

Their first interaction was amusing. Y/N tried to save his ass when a group of soldiers surrounded him. Logan was on the ground, guns pointed at every piece of his body when she came out of nowhere, shooting down the soldiers, snapping their necks with bare hands. Her kicks were strong, her punches were deadly. 

Once the threat was eliminated, she turned and looked down at Logan. “Are you done napping?” she asked him with a grin. 

He huffed. “I had it under control,” he huffed. He got up on his legs, the adamantium claws had already retracted back to his skin. Y/N watched it happen like a hawk but didn’t comment on it. 

“Of course. You almost got killed by ten men. Yeah, you had it under control.” 

“I can’t die, princess,” he squinted at her. “It wouldn’t be the first time a firing squad would try to kill me. In the end, it would always just tickle.”

Y/N tilted her head. A smile played on her lips. “Well, if you are done bragging, let’s move. There is still more to come and I would like to be in bed with a book in my hand by ten.” 

That was just their first interaction. And with that, something bloomed between them. Friendship? Or was it something more? Every mission became exciting. He couldn’t keep the dumb smile on his face once he saw her in the field.

Logan ordered another whisky. A grin spread on his lips when he thought back to their first meeting. He learnt her name later. First, it was just her last name. Rogers barked orders when he said it. Her first name came at a different time when they all shared the same coms for better communication. 

“She’s coming here,” Hank warned him, which brought Logan back to reality. 

With every step, he could notice more details about her. The material of the dress, how deep her cleavage was, how her breasts popped out, the red lips, the earrings, the fact that she was like a fucking angel. All she needed was wings. And, she was coming to him alone. Fucking finally. 

“Wolverine,” she purred his name. “I can’t believe you are here. Who put a gun to your head and forced you to attend this magical evening?” There was a teasing smile on her lips. 

Don’t look at her tits, he thought. Don’t look at the tits that want to spill out of that dress. Fuck!

“I heard there was an open bar,” he said. “So I decided to come and drink Stark’s liquor.” 

She licked her lips, suppressing her chuckle. “No other reason?” I raised a brow. “See your friends, swoon ladies or play pool with the boys?”

See me?

He kicked in the rest of the drink and put the glass on the bar. His eyes noticed the crowd gathering in the middle of the hall. A slow music started to play, inviting everyone to dance. Logan’s hand reached forward. It was now or never. “Or I came here to dance with ya, princess.” 

One second and her hand slipped into his. “Oh, so you dance, you say? Lead the way.” 

Logan proudly walked her into the crowd of dancing people. One hand rested on her lower back, other held her right hand. He knew what he was doing. After all, this was the first dance of his life. Y/N was impressed by that. They started to dance to the string music. 

He sniffed her sweet perfume, the shampoo she used. That woman would be the death of him, Logan was sure of it. They kept dancing, not talking. His eyes were on her, locked in a gaze. He had been close to her before but not like this. She was like a magnet, pulling him closer to her. Her lips inviting, her touch soft. 

The more he looked at her, the more he wanted to spill out what was going through his mind. “You look beautiful tonight,” he admitted. “Fuck, you look beautiful every time I see ya.”

She chuckled. “Even in my suit during a fight?” she raised a brow. 

“Hell yes,” he nodded eagerly. “Princess, when you walk to the field in that suit, fighting fearlessly, I have trouble focusing. Once you did a trick with your thighs, choking an enemy with them, I almost lost it there.” 

Y/N’s hand left his. She brushed it up his arm and rested it on his shoulder. “Oh, so that’s the effect I have on you, eh?” she teased the Canadian. “Care to say more?”

Logan’s hand joined the other on her lower back. He pressed her closer to his body. The height difference was evident between them. Even with her high heels, she was shorter than him. “Fishing for compliments?” 

“From you? Yes,” she smiled. 

He moved closer to her, leaning. In his mind, he was ready to press his lips against her. He needed to kiss her like he needed to breathe. This was his chance to taste her.

A third hand landed on Y/N’s shoulder. “Y/N, Logan,” they heard someone say their names. The moment was ruined. He wasn’t able to kiss her like he wanted. On the other hand, he wanted to slash anyone who interrupted them.

With a growl, he pushed away, eyes finding Captain Rogers, accompanied by Hank. “What?” he asked them grumpily. He didn’t care it was rude. They ruined something special. 

“We need you in the conference room,” said Steve. “We have a situation.” 

Y/N sighed, stepping away from Logan’s hold. “What’s going on?” she switched to a work mode. She gave Hank a polite smile to acknowledge his presence. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. alerted us about Trash industries,” said Steve. “Come, we’ll show you.” 

“Charles?” Logan’s eyes shifted to Hank. 

“Already with Stark,” he said. 

All four of them walked together from the grand hall. Yelena and Sam joined them on the stairs. The blonde woman was yapping about being taken away from a cute woman and a fine drink. 

“I just fucking got here. Already some shit is happening,” she kept cursing under her nose.

Logan kept close to Y/N. He missed her body being so close to his. He hoped they'd be able to continue. The conversation was intriguing. He remained by her side while walking through the hallway and to the upper levels of the compound. 

Her fingers brushed against his hand. It wasn’t an accident. No. Her fingers purposefully stroked the top of his hand. Instantly, his fingers moved. His pinkie hooked around hers for a second. It was a mutual sign. 

The group entered the conference room, meeting the rest of the Avengers and Charles. One by one they took a seat except Logan. He stayed on his feet, a step away from Y/N’s seat. A hologram appeared in the middle of the table. 

“We got a new location on Trask Industries, but this time, these fuckers had decided to work with some Hydra scums,” Tony started to talk, showing footage they managed to get from satellites. “Or so it appears. we are not quite sure.” 

“The public wouldn’t like that,” Charles commented. “They try to present themselves as a serious robotic corporation. Why would they jeopardise their public status if they start working with a public enemy?”

“That is trying to hunt down mutants and annihilate them,” Y/N commented. “Don’t want to imagine what’s going on behind closed doors. It can’t be nice.”

“Is it really Hydra?” Natasha asked. 

“It appears,” Steve chimed in. “Or something adjacent.” 

“So what? We’re just gonna sit here and wait for more details?” Logan scoffed. “The longer we wait, the more work they get done. I say to strike and kill them all.” 

Y/N licked her lower lip and grinned under her nose.

“We need a strategy, Logan,” said Charles.

“Not everyone can get sliced and heal with a snap of fingers,” Tony added sarcastically. “Chill, wolvie. Besides, we’ve sent Vision to have a look at the place. He’s a droid, a powerful one made out of vibranium.” 

Y/N turned her head to Tony. “That doesn’t mean he’s indestructible in this world,” she frowned. “New weapons are being developed every day to destroy mutants, to stop the Avengers. I hope Wanda went with him. They are stronger together.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Of course, she’s with him. Do you think I’d be able to stop her? I’m not crazy.” 

“Trask Industries are still working on the damn sentinel program,” Hank stepped into the conversation. “With Hydra’s help, who knows what they’ll be able to create together. The thought alone is scary.” 

Tony ended the hologram. Steve took the word. “I know we are supposed to be here at the gala, but I suggest a good night's sleep and be ready. If you’d like, we have spare rooms in here for you. You can stay here for the night if we need to leave.” 

When Steve said that, Y/N gently turned her head to the side, wondering what Logan would say to that. 

“I’ll gladly accept the offer,” Hank smiled. “At least I’d get to talk to Bruce for a little while and have a look at his labs. I’ll also alert the others at school.” 

“Howlett?” Tony raised a brow. 

Logan’s eyes moved from Y/N’s exposed shoulders to Hank and then to Tony. “Sure, why not? At least I don’t have to drive from place to place.” 

“I guess we are staying,” Charles smiled. “Thank you for your accommodation.” 

The meeting ended. Natasha and Yelena went back to the gala. Y/N talked to Hank for a few more minutes while he was waiting for Bruce. Steve and Tony took Charles back to the grand hall. Logan waited outside the conference room. Because no one was present, he took a cigar out of his jacket and lit it up. Three puffs later Y/N stepped out of the conference room with Hank. 

“Already smoking?” Hank sighed. 

“So what? Got a problem with that, bub?” 

“Always the charmer,” Hank shook his head. “Nice evening, Y/N. I’ll see you later,” he said once he saw Banner approaching the group. 

The moment Logan and Y/N were alone, they faced one another. “Are you heading back to the gala?” Logan asked. 

She hummed, thinking about it. “I’m not feeling like going back there. Honestly, those fancy parties are not my cup of tea. Wanna grab a drink in our lounge room? Stark has the fanciest shit there. You’re gonna love it.” 

Logan smiled at her. “Lead the way, princess.”

. . .

The lights were dimmed in the lounge room. Logan was nursing an expensive drink Y/N poured him. He made faces, eyed the liquid, humming and nodding. “This is some good shit,” said after a while. “Wealthy people can afford stuff like this. Also, Charles prohibited any alcohol at school.” 

Y/N chuckled, sitting in an armchair with her drink. “It makes sense. It’s a school. Of course, he doesn’t want any alcohol there. Does he let you smoke?” 

He huffed. “That he ain’t gonna do shit about it. No matter how much he threatens to turn me into a six-year-old girl.” 

“Aw, that’s adorable. I’d like to see that,” she put a wide smile on her face as she sipped her drink. “Maybe I’d brush your hair, put pink ribbons in it.”

Logan kicked the drink in and stood up from the couch. His eyes noticed a few photos around the place - from parties and group shots to professional photos of the team. They were like a family. What mostly caught his attention was Y/N. She was an Avenger, part of a superhero team. He huffed. Fuck, she was a damn Avenger. 

“What?” she questioned. A second later, she was by his side, eyes on the same photo of the team. “That was after Ultron almost annihilated the whole world. We celebrated our survival. Stark puked into his helmet,” she laughed. 

“Disgusting,” he frowned. “I must say, you look like one happy family,” he commented. 

Y/N hummed. “Maybe,” she shrugged. “I love them all to death.”

“But?” he raised a brow. 

She shrugged. “Will I sound ungrateful if I say I hate being in the spotlight?” she made a face. “I can’t do photoshoots, the damn galas and shit forever. I hate attention. I’d rather be like you.”

“Me?”

She nodded. “Teaching mutant kids, living life out of the spotlight. Even though it’s not easy, in my eyes, it’s simpler. Not have to deal with this shitshow.” 

Logan’s fingers found her hair. He brushed them away from her face. His mouth opened, ready to say something - anything - but instead, he grabbed her by the neck, pulled her closer to his body and crashed his lips against her. It was like an invincible string, pulling them together. He couldn’t help it.

It wasn’t slow, gentle. Quite the opposite. Logan’s tongue explored her mouth, tasting every corner he could reach. It was hungry, possessive. One hand held her tightly around her waist while the other slipped from her neck, down her back until it reached her ass, taking as much of her cheek into his palm. 

Both arms wrapped around his neck. A moan escaped her lips when the kisses moved to her jaw and down to her exposed neck. 

“I need to have you,” Logan growled between the kisses. “Fuck, pretty baby.” 

“My room,” she sighed. “We can’t give Stark or Rogers a heart attack if we do it here. Although, it would be funny.” 

Logan pushed away, staring into her eyes. He went back for her lips, only to bite her lower lip, pulling at it. “Lead the way, princess,” he growled. “And hurry, or I will take you here, where anyone can see us.”

Y/N grabbed him by the hand, taking him away from the lounge room. Logan moved her to his side and kept a hand on her smaller back. He needed to feel her, to be sure she was real and not a damn dream.

It took them a good three minutes to get to her room on the upper levels. The moment she closed the door, her hands were on Logan’s jacket, taking it off, letting it fall on the floor. Both of them stepped on it, not caring. His lips smashed against hers, all tongue and teeth. Grunts and moans echoed around them as they moved closer to the bed. 

“I wanna rip this dress off,” he said, hands grabbing both of her covered breasts into his palms, squeezing them. 

Y/N undid his tie. “No,” she chuckled, unbuttoning his white shirt. “Too fucking expensive. Here,” her fingers quickly found the zipper on her left side. She pulled it down and the dress loosened. That was Logan’s sign to pull down on it. 

“Fuck, princess,” his eyes rolled when she stood there in nothing but a black lacy thong. Her breasts were on full display, nipples stiff, just for his eyes. “Fucking perfect.” 

Before he could latch onto her hardened nipples, she forced the white button-up down off his body, hand grabbing onto his muscles, fingers brushing over some of the hair on his chest. She stood on her tiptoes to find his lips in another hungry kiss. 

His tongue dove into her mouth, caressing hers in the process. He felt her hands moving down to his belt, unfastening it. “Impatient?” his voice hoarse.

She pushed him onto her bed. He fell with a loud thud. The adamantium bones almost broke it in the process. “Shit, sorry,” she gasped, forgetting about his weight. But instantly, she climbed on top of him. Y/N pressed her breasts onto his chest as she needed to kiss him again and again. 

Logan switched it up, rolling them so she was under his body. “Now, let me ravish you before I give you my cock,” he said, lips already trailing kissed down her chest, over her breasts. His mouth took a nipple into his mouth, sucking on it, biting it. Her other nipple was teased by his thumb and index finger. 

“Fuck, Logan,” she whimpered. 

His mouth then travelled south. His tongue left a wet trail down her stomach to the hem of her thong. He kneeled on the edge of the bed, taking her leg up in the air, kissing it from the thigh up to her ankle. “I should leave these heels on, darlin’. So fucking sexy. Fuck, and I will.” 

Y/N huffed. “Logan, please, I want your mouth on me.” 

“Ah, already begging. I love it,” he grinned. He put her leg on his shoulder. His fingers brushed down down her leg to her clothed pussy. With two fingers he brushed her over her hidden folds and clit. She practically purred. “Pretty sound.” 

“Come on, Logan, do something.” Y/N was becoming frustrated. He kept teasing her, rubbing circles over her clit. “Don’t be a fucking tease. Not now.” 

A dark laughter escaped his throat. “Patience, darlin’.” He moved the thong to the side, exposing her pussy to the cold air. He saw her clench around nothing. “What a pretty pussy, princess. So wet and ready for me.” And he buried two fingers inside her heat. 

Y/N moaned once his two thick fingers penetrated her. “Shit. Ah.” 

He pulled them out and put them straight into his mouth, tasting her. “Delicious,” hummed. “I’m gonna feast on you. Not now. Now, I need to feel you around my cock, princess.” 

Logan grabbed her thong and pulled it off her legs, leaving her completely exposed to his eyes. He made sure to leave those heels on. “Fucking gorgeous.” He stood up to get rid of his pants. 

The moment he unzipped them, she knew he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. “Shit, Logan, commando?” she raised a brow. His length was already hard, ready for attention. The tip of his cock was angry red, already leaking precum. 

She was ready to reach for him, take his cock into her mouth and guide it into her mouth. Logan was faster. He pushed her back on the bed, shaking his head. “No, no, darlin’. I’m gonna fuck you now. And next time, I will let you have a taste of me.” 

“Next time?” she smiled. 

Logan leaned closer, his head above hers. “You think this a one-time thing? Oh, pretty girl. No, no.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. 

“Good,” she gave him a bright smile. 

He pumped his length a few times before he positioned his cock to her opening. Slowly, he pushed inside until her hungry pussy took him all in. He cursed, groaned when her walls clenched around him. Once he was buried to the hilt, Y/N sank her nails into his chest, leaving red trails down to his belly button. They immediately disappeared, healed.

“Feel so good, princess. So tight,” he moaned as he started to move. At first slow, enjoying every stroke, watching her face like a hawk. He loved how her eyes rolled, how she gasped for air with each thrust or how she squeezed her breasts. She was fucking perfect. 

His thrusts fastened. He watched her breasts bounce as she kept fucking her. His grunts were louder, more vocal. Logan’s right hand found her neck. He wrapped his fingers around it, squeezing it. And that move made her clench hard around his cock. “Shit, Y/N,” he called her name. “Keep doing that and I will fucking cum inside you.”

Logan’s other hand sneaked between their bodies and found her clit. He started to rub it slowly, changing the movements. 

“P-please,” she gasped. “I need to cum, Logan.”

He smiled. “Yeah, pretty girl? Gonna cum around my cock?”

Y/N nodded, moaning and shaking under him. “Please, please,” she begged. 

“Come on, princess. Cum around my cock. Squeeze me with your sweet pussy,” he demanded. “Wanna feel you when you cum. Shit… Ah… Fuck…”

A few more flickers of his finger was what she needed to reach her peak. Her mouth formed a perfect O, her voice suddenly gone when the wave of pleasure hit her body like a train. Her back arched as he helped her through her orgasm. 

“Fuck, baby, yes,” he grunted. “Milk me dry.” 

A few more thrusts and he spilt inside her. His hot cum painted her walls. He growled like an animal, trying to prolong his climax with every movement. His body shook and then he stopped, panting. 

His eyes found hers. There was a post-orgasmic haze in them. A smile played on her lips. She was perfect, beautiful. Logan quickly leaned down and stole a kiss from her.

“Damn, princess,” he chuckled. “Such a good girl.” 

Those words made her clench around his length again. He grinned. “You like it when I call ya a good girl? Good to know.” Slowly, he pulled her semi-hard cock out of her and rolled next to her, catching his breath. 

Y/N rolled to him, resting her leg over his body. Her fingers drew patterns on his chest, moving through the hair delicately. “This was fun,” she smiled. “It’s been a while since I had a good orgasm.” 

He raised a brow. “Next time, I’ll make you cum on my fingers,” he grabbed her hand and pressed his lips on her fingers. “Then on my tongue and around my cock,” he hummed. “I will fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

She grinned. “Is that a promise?” 

“Fuck yeah, princess.”