#Charles realizing in real time that this turned him on

[dimlylittorch]

my mind is just bee bopping around at this point- my one brain cell is pinging between arcane, cod and marvel.

My Masterlist🌱

Logan Howlett x sweetheart!virgin!chubby!pre-op!transmasc!reader (if you can’t tell this is a niche that only fits me atp😭)

small synopsis: have you really lived if you haven’t had boy pussy before? - me to logan (this ended up being WAY sweeter than i expected?? like i was squealing while writing it) (8.6k+ words)

Warnings: smut, loss of virginity, pretty soft sex, words like cunt, clit, pussy, etc.

Only having recently joined the x-men, it had been a bit of a struggle trying to meet everyone and keep all of their names and powers straight. But there was one man you simply could not forget. Logan Howlett. The Wolverine. The sexy old man that smoked 5 cigars a day and gave zero fucks. Unfortunately, this qualifies perfectly as your type. He says daddy issues, you say yes sir.

Your mutation was on the more tame side of things. You wouldn’t be sent out on missions, but you still helped to keep the mansion running. You did just about anything someone asked of you, always eager and happy to help. That was one of the first things Logan noticed about you. You always had a smile on your face. And when you didn’t, it was only because you were focused. The second someone spoke to you, a smile quickly formed. The thing about it that really got to him? The fact that the smile was real. It wasn’t a courtesy smile. It never felt forced or fake.

The first interaction the two of you had left both of you ever so slightly flustered. Scott had been giving you a tour and as the two of you passed by Logan, he grabbed Logan by the shoulder and told him to say hi to you. He rolled his eyes at Scott, but when he looked down at you he felt something.. shift. He couldn’t quite place it. When your eyes met his you quickly smiled, reaching out your hand to him.

“I take it you’re the Mr. Howlett I hear so much about?” You smiled shyly as you looked up at him. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

He’d scoffed internally when he heard your words. But it was quickly followed by a fluttering of his heart- when he realized you were serious. You were being polite. That he wasn’t used to.

“Logan.” He said simply as he took your hand to shake it before slipping his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. Before you could say much of anything else, Scott started to guide you away down the hallway to continue with the tour. You and Logan’s eyes lingered on each other for a few moments before you finally broke away, following Scott’s lead down the hallway. Logan had huffed as he watched you walk away before turning away himself. He only made it a few feet down the hallway before his mutant hearing picked up your words to Scott.

“No one told me he was gorgeous” you laughed playfully as you weakly hit Scott’s arm, making him laugh. Your words made Logan freeze for a moment, quickly looking over his shoulder to see you and Scott turning the corner.

Ever since then? He could barely get you out of his head. Especially since your loud yet gentle laugh was ringing through his ears any time you were in the same building. How could anyone laugh so much? He doesn’t think he’s laughed as much in his whole life as you do in a week. His eyes always found your soft form, trailing along your body with interest. The two of you were complete opposites in his mind. Where he was hard, you were soft. Where he was rude, you were kind. You were everything he never thought he’d be. And of course, you felt the same way about him.

He’d started to memorize your routine whether it be intentionally or not. He always knew around what time you’d go eat lunch, or what time he’d see you chatting with Charles. He felt like he was going crazy at this point.. he was never one to obsess over someone. Not like this. There were small moments when the two of you would get to talk. It was a rarity, the two of you being completely alone. One he appreciated more than you knew.

The team had just gotten home from a long mission, Logan being one of them. It was the middle of the night when they arrived back at the mansion, and there you stood in sweatpants a sweatshirt and shoes, your hair ruffled, ready to help wherever help was needed. He had to admit- you were always a sight for sore eyes. But seeing you like this? All soft and cozy? It did something to him.

With your arms crossed over your chest you walked up to the ramp of the ship, eyes quickly scanning over everyone that got off. Pretty much everyone was unscathed, only a few with minor injuries which were quickly moved to medical. Logan was the last to leave the ship, wanting to ensure he at least got a chance to talk with you. When your gaze shifts to Logan as he walks down the ramp, a tired smile forms on your face.

“There he is” you say affectionately, as if talking to a beloved pet walking into a room to come see you. “You okay?” You ask softly as you glance over his tall form.

A small smirk forms at the corner of his lips at your words, nodding as he steps down. “Healing factor, remember?” He mutters.

Scoffing with a small smile, you shake your head with amusement. “Just because you can heal from every cut and bruise doesn’t mean you’re okay.” You say softly, reaching up to ruffle his hair slightly. “I know you’re all big and bad..” you say gently as you pull your hand away as soon as you’d touched him, as if catching yourself. “But if you ever need to talk after missions- or in general.. I’m here, yeah?”

He felt his heart skip a beat when you touched his hair. Christ, you’d hardly ever touched before. He couldn’t get over how nice it felt. “Yeah.” He repeats. “Cmon.. let’s get you back to bed.” He muses as his eyes glance over your attire once again, making you laugh softly.

As he walked you back inside, he saw how your arms were crossed over your chest and his eyebrow quirked. “You cold?” He questions.

Looking up at him and then following his gaze down to your arms, you chuckle softly. “No, no, I’m fine” you smile. “I just forgot my binder is all. When I heard you guys land I just threw some clothes on.. silly me.”

He stares down at you for a moment before he speaks again. “Binder?” He questions faintly.

Oh. Right. While he had lived a long time, you didn’t really know of any other trans mutants in the mansion.. it didn’t surprise you he didn’t know what a binder was. “Oh- sorry.” You chuckle. “It’s.. kind of like a bra. But for guys.” You say softly, hoping it was an answer enough without having to get into the whole transgender conversation at 2am.

Once you both went your respective ways, he showered and then got into bed. Opening his phone, he couldn’t help but look up the term. Binder. As he read, his eyebrows raised slightly. ‘Often worn by transgender individuals, transitioning from female to male.’ Well.. that answered a few of his questions. It made sense- you did have a bit of a higher pitched voice. He’d always just chalked it up to you being a feminine gay guy or something like that. But hey, Logan doesn’t mind. He’s too tired to give a fuck about what people want to do with their bodies, or how they want to live. If you said you were a guy.. well. You’re a guy. He was a simple man. And it seemed simple enough to him.

Your interactions grew more common, especially since he tried to make himself available to you whenever possible. He didn’t want to seem too eager by starting conversation- but he knew that if you saw him you would always walk up to him and say hi. You already had him wrapped around your little finger and you didn’t even know it.

Eventually, a mission does come along that you are sent out on. It’s fairly routine, but it’s more of an inside job this go around. Someone will need to be behind the scenes who is easily able to handle multiple things at once- and that’s something you had always been good at. Finally pulling your X-Men suit out of the closet was something you hadn’t expected. But it was nice to finally feel like part of the team.

Of course, Logan didn’t know until last minute you’d be coming along for this mission. He had a tendency to skip the briefings, thinking he would be just fine ‘in the moment’. So imagine the look on his face when he walks into the loading bay, seeing you in your tight leather uniform. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you in something that fitted- maybe a turtle neck or leggings at best. But even then, you tended to lean towards baggier clothing.

Whenever you see Logan walk over in his matching suit, you can’t help but grin and walk over to him. “Hey- look” you chuckle softly, glancing down between the two of you. “We’re all matchy-matchy.”

He huffs at your words, but in reality he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. The idea of something so soft being under that leather.. it did something to him. “Didn’t know you were coming with us.” He murmurs.

You smile softly, slipping your hands into your pockets. “Yeah.. they just needed someone for background work- nothing crazy.” You say sweetly. “Yknow- I didn’t really think black was my color” you muse as you glance down at yourself. “But I kind of like it. What do you think?” You grin as you do a little turn so he could see all of you.

He groaned internally when he saw the way the leather fit you, but he made sure to stay quiet. A smirk forms over his lips, reaching out to ruffle your hair. “Yeah, kid. You look cute.” He murmurs.

You practically feel your face flush at his words, but you smile wider hoping he’ll contribute it to you straining your cheeks. “Thanks Lo” you say sweetly like always. “Hey.. can I sit next to you on the ride there? I don’t know if anyone else would want to talk to me” you chuckle softly, rubbing the back of your neck.

He smiles softly when he sees your face flush, and nods. “Sure thing, kid.”

The mission was going smoothly, everything according to plan. There was only one problem. Due to some unforeseen circumstances.. you and Logan are stuck in some shitty motel room together. The mission was going to take longer than they had planned for, so they decided they needed to put you in a more semi-permanent spot for the time being. It needed to be inconspicuous, so a motel seemed reasonable. And of course, they didn’t want you without protection. So Logan volunteered was assigned to stay with you.

Walking into the motel with your bags in hand, you sigh when you see how cramped the space is. A bed and a bathroom.. that was about it. Getting a two bedroom would’ve been too conspicuous at least that’s what Logan convinced you of. Logan closes the door behind the two of you, locking the door and propping a chair underneath the handle as an extra precaution. Setting your bags down on the one table in the room, you look around with tired eyes before sitting in one of the crappy chairs.

“Sorry you’re stuck babysitting” you mutter as you rub your face tiredly.

Logan looks over at you with a small smirk as he checks and makes sure no where is bugged. “Don’t worry about that.” He shrugs. “I’m glad to have a little vacation here and there.”

Looking up at him with a soft gaze, you rest your chin in your hand as you watch his form and how it flexes as he moves. “Still.” You murmur. “It won’t be all that fun.. they just have me on my computer most of the time.”

Walking over to sit in the chair adjacent to your own, Logan sighs as he sits down. “I’m just glad I’m not stuck with someone who annoys me.” He mutters.

Before you can stop yourself, one of your usual snippy remarks slips past your lips. “Wish I could say the same” you murmured with a small smirk on your face. When he looks over at you with a raised eyebrow, you can’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry- I’m sorry!” you beam at him. “I promise I didn’t mean it.”

Logan scoffs with a small smile on his face, crossing his arms over his chest and faking a pout. “I don’t know.. you hurt my feelings pretty bad.” He says through a playful smirk.

Rolling your eyes you stand up, walking in front of his chair and leaning down slightly. Gently cupping his chin, you pull him forward so your faces are only a few inches away. “I’m very, truly sorry.” You say softly with a smile. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Logan’s breath hitches as he gazes up at you, his smile fading and his mouth open slightly. His eyes flit over your smile, your nose, your eyes.. god he could look at you forever.

Gazing down at him, you smile falters when his does. You feel your heart speed up when you realize how he’s looking at you. And you can’t help but stare back. Looking into his hazel eyes.. christ. He really was gorgeous.

Time stands still as the two of you look at each other, taking in every facial feature you can, committing it to memory. After a few seconds your thumb gently shifts, tracing over his beard. Your eyes shift down to his beard, a small smile pulling at the corner of your lips. To Logan, you looked so.. absorbed. Focused on everything that was him. Meanwhile he couldn’t help but stare up at you dumbly, watching your eyes shift to different features of his face.

“I can’t get over how pretty you are.” You whisper softly, and your voice rings in his ears. Did you have any idea what you were doing to him? He’d never felt frozen before. Not like this. He was too scared to move. Scared this moment would end and he’d never feel your touch again.

Logan swallows roughly, his hand tentatively reaching up to hold your hand against his face. After a small moment he turns his head slightly, his lips pressing against the palm of your hand as his thumb strokes along your hand. “Don’t look at me like that.” He pleads roughly as he looks up at you, holding your hand against his cheek once again.

When his lips touched your palm, you felt a jolt flow through you, shocking your system. When was the last time someone kissed you? Let alone in such a sweet way. Did he have any idea what he was doing to you? As you look down at him, you feel your heart skip a beat. And your brain finally starts to snap out of it. Any confidence you had is draining away.. when you realize how real this is.. you feel like you’re frozen in place.

When Logan senses your demeanor shift, he knows it’s now or never. A soft thing like you might scurry away, and he’d have to work so hard just to get close to you again. Before he can stop himself, he stands up and wraps his arms around your torso, pulling you close against him to keep you from falling backwards. His lips meet your own in a deep yet gentle kiss.. one that conveys his want, but gives you plenty of space to stop.

Your brain goes fuzzy when he stands up to tower over you, and you practically short circuit when his lips meet your own. His lips press against your own repeatedly, but it takes a moment for your brain to catch up. When it clicks, your body naturally responds, your lips pressing back against his. He groans appreciatively when your arms slip around his neck to pull him down closer to you, and you can feel how his back muscles flex from such a simple action. It drives you wild.. knowing he was so strong- but chose to be soft with you.

Your lips gently shift away from his own, moving to kiss the corner of his lips, pulling a faint growl from him. Your fingers slip into his hair to calm him as your lips move along his jaw line, pressing tender kisses along his beard. Logan holds onto you tighter, one of his hands shifting down onto your ass. When your breath hitches simply from his touch, he can’t help but bury his face against the crook of your neck and smile against your skin.

“Who do you think you are..” he whispers playfully as he kisses along your neck. “Calling me pretty and thinking you can get away with it.” He teases.

Before he can go any farther, he feels your palm cup his bulge forming in his jeans and he tenses in your hold as your lips press against the shell of his ear. “You’re beautiful.” You whisper against his skin, your tone soft enough to make his heart stop. It was the most genuine thing he’d ever heard.

He lets out a shaky breath against your skin, trying to gather himself.. but he was falling apart at the seams. “You’re going to kill me one of these days..” He replies weakly.

The two of you stand still for a few moments, both taking shaky breaths as you hold each other close. “I have so many things to say” you whisper weakly through ragged breaths as you continue to palm his erection.

Logan groans from your touch, placing faint kisses along your jaw. “Tell me.” He whispers back.

“I need you.”

And that.. that was what broke Logan. Before you can say anything else, Logan is pinning you down on the motel bed, his hulking form lying over your own. He slipped his hands into your own, pinning your hands up next to your head as he nips slightly at your jaw. “More.” He murmurs softly.

Letting your head fall back against the mattress, you let out quick, shaky breaths. “I can’t help but stare at you” your soft voice confesses weakly. “You’re the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen.”

Logan groans at your words, kissing along the column of your throat, making your back arch. “Again.” He growls slightly as he pulls his hands away from your own, pulling your shirt up so he can see your stomach.

As your face flushes heavily, you use your arm to cover your eyes slightly, trying to aid the pain of being so flustered. “I wish I was an artist.” You admit softly. “I’d paint you.. sketch you- I’d do anything to see all of you.”

Sucking gentle hickeys into the fat of your stomach, his hand pushes up the tight fabric of your binder to reveal your chest. “Fuck..” he chokes out as he reaches out to grab your breast, feeling the fatty flesh under his palm. “I’ve got.. the prettiest boy in the world” he says weakly. “Right under my palm.”

“L-Logan-“ you cry out faintly, your body arching into his touch. You never thought you’d be this sensitive.. but it was like every nerve that came into contact with him was set on fire.

Before you can say anything else, he pulls you up to pull your shirt and binder off, tossing them aside. Gently laying you back down, he shifts onto his knees as his lips meet your breasts, his tongue gently swirling along your nipples. He pulls away for a moment with ragged breath. “Keep talking” he orders softly. “Keep being sweet to me.”

When you look down at him and your eyes meet, it feels like all of the air has been knocked out of your lungs. God he looked ethereal like this. While Logan keeps eye contact, he tweaks one of your nipples with his hand while his lips wrapped around the other one sweetly. Throwing your head back once more, you struggle to gather your breath. “I- I think about you- at night” you gasp out as his mouth shifts downcast, along the plush of your stomach until he reaches your pants. “I fall asleep- t-to the thought of you” you confess weakly.

As Logan makes quick work of unbuttoning your pants and sliding them off of you, you can hear how his breath catches at your words. “I know.” He says through ragged breaths. “I can hear you.. every time you say my name. Whether it be when you’re touching yourself or dreaming..” he murmurs lowly as he pulls your briefs down. “I always hear it.”

Logan feels how you tense when you realize he hears everything you do in your room at night. He can’t help but smirk as he pulls your briefs off completely, grabbing your legs and hooking them over his shoulders. “Gonna give you what you’ve been begging for at night baby” he groans when he presses his nose against your soft boycunt, sniffing deeply and making you squirm. He sees how flushed your face is, and he can’t help but smile as he presses tender kisses along your inner thighs. “You stay so quiet, sweet thing” he muses between kisses. “But ya decided to crush on the one mutant with super hearing, hm?” He chuckles lowly. “You tried so hard.. I could hear it. How you muffled yourself the best you could.. wasn’t good enough baby. Not for me.” He whispers against your soft skin.

Your thighs clench around his head as he places a small lick along your folds, and you can practically feel the smirk on his lips. “I’ve wanted to taste you for weeks” he groans softly as two of his thick fingers move to part your folds. “Fuck baby boy..” he murmurs as he gets a full view of your leaking cunt. “You got this wet just from me?” He mutters under his breath.

Letting out a shaky breath, you can’t help but nod shyly, keeping your head back against the mattress. “You’re really hot” you whisper faintly in reply as his hot breath fans over your fluttering hole.

He chuckles deeply at your words as he pulls your folds back to reveal your little bud, perking up and pleading for his attention. He hums as he leans forward, pressing a small kiss to your clit, making you flinch at the feeling. “Christ..” he breathes at how sensitive you are. “I think this is the prettiest pussy I’ve seen, baby.” He says affectionately as he presses a kiss to your leaking entrance, making you whimper. “Couldn’t have imagined how sweet my boy’s cunt would be.” He murmurs as he licks his lips.

Taking shallow breaths as you try to gather yourself, you can’t help but ask the question that’s been burning in the back of your mind. “Do.. you get with trans guys a lot?” You ask tentatively.

He pauses at your words, his gaze shifting up towards your face. “Never..” He murmurs. “Never really considered it before. Hope ya don’t mind.. I haven’t met a lot of trans folk in my time.”

Leaning up slightly to meet his gaze, you sigh softly. “You still see me as a guy.. right?” You question softly. “I mean- I know it’s kind of hard with a cunt staring you in the face-“ you start to ramble, but he quickly leans forward and slips his tongue past your tight hole to shut you up. When you choke out a moan and lay back down completely, he chuckles.

“Best of both worlds if you ask me” he muses. “Always liked soft things like you.. and I can’t deny there’s a bit of a preference for cunt on my end.” He fans against your folds. “But to get a sweet boy on top of it all? I’d say that’s the cherry on top.”

Sighing softly, you let out a faint breath of relief. “Glad I can be of service” you joke breathlessly with a small smile on your lips.

Chuckling faintly, Logan slips a finger into his mouth with a smirk before he prods at your tight hole, pushing in as gently as he can. When you groan weakly he starts to press small kisses along your thigh, his finger getting sucked in as deep as it can go. “Christ baby.. you really need to get fucked, hm?” He smirks. “Sucking me in like it’s nothing..”

Reaching downwards, you slip your hand into his hair and tug ever so slightly. Logan has to pull away from your cunt for just a moment, biting his lip with a groan. A flustered smile crosses your lips as you look down at him, eyes completely infatuated with him. “You’re so soft” you murmur softly as you feel his fluffy hair in your palm.

Logan looks up to meet your gaze, a fire lit in his soul with how nice you were being to him. God, just about every hookup he had wanted a quick and dirty fuck.. and here you were praising him. “Just for you” he murmurs, his words containing a small promise. Leaning back down, he starts to suckle your clit sweetly while his finger pumps in and out of your hole at a tantalizing pace.

Hissing slightly from the combined pleasure, you tug on his hair a little harder, and his arms wrap around your thighs, holding you in place. “A man like me doesn’t deserve a heaven like this” he whispers against your plush skin, gently retracting his finger and pressing a sweet kiss to your fluttering hole.

Letting out a weak breath, you gently sit up and reach for the fabric of his shirt, slowly unbuttoning the flannel with shaky hands. When you notice how he tenses at your action, you quickly pause and your eyes meet his own. “Can I?” You whisper softly. “I.. I want to return the favor.” You smile faintly.

Letting out a faint sigh, he sits up and moves to rest on his knees, letting you unbutton his shirt. Smiling shyly, your gaze shifts to his hairy chest as you remove his flannel. He watches closely and notices how your pupils dilate at the sight of his well built body. He can’t help but smirk as you look at him like he was a statue in a museum.. full of fascination. A little part of you wanting to touch. Gently grabbing your hand, he pulls it to rest against the dark curls in between his pecks. “Do whatever you want, baby.” He says lowly against your ear. “It’s all yours.”

Your eyes are glued to his bare body as you carefully pull his shirt off, grabbing it before pulling it into your chest, looking down at it as a small smile forms. “I love this one on you.” You whisper softly.

He smiles affectionately at your words as he gazes down at how cute you are. You were gazing down at his shirt like it was the most precious thing in the world. Reaching forward, he gently puts his hand on the flannel and pushing it out of the way. As soon as you look up, his lips meet yours in a sweet kiss. Letting go of his flannel you grin against his lips as he wraps his arms around your back. Shifting to where he falls to lay on his back on the motel bed, he pulls you with him to straddle him.

Laughing sweetly as you sit up, you can’t help but run your hands through the dark curls of his chest, admiring how warm he felt. He watched affectionately as you take in his form, eyes exploring his body like no one had before. After a few moments he can’t catch himself before his hips roll upwards slightly, sending his clothed erection to rut against your bare cunt.

“Shit” you gasp out at his movements, your mouth hanging open slightly at the feeling. You sit still for a moment, trying to get past your flustered state. Rubbing your hand along his side, your eyes shyly meet his own. “Could.. could you do that again?” You ask softly.

He grins at your words, quickly bucking up his hips so the rough fabric hits your boycunt just right. “Ohh, fuck yeah” he groans as he lets his head fall back against the mattress. “That’s the stuff.” Blushing heavily you experimentally roll your hips against his own, pulling a groan from him. “God.. you’re going to be gripping my cock like a vice. Can already tell.”

As his words send a heat through you, you can’t help but make quick work of his zipper and jeans, doing your best to pull them back, leaving mainly his boxers visible. When you hesitantly palm his erection, you see how he grips the sheets with a groan. Unable to wait any longer, you gently pull him out of his boxers, heat blooming in your core when you see how fat his cock is.

“Logan..” you whisper breathlessly, but before he can look up and answer you, you’ve already moved back, leaning down and starting to lap at his dick. Logan’s hips flinch at the feeling of your hot tongue, doing the best he can to keep himself still.

When you provide little kitten licks to his tip, he lets out a gravelly moan, but you could hear his resolve fading. “Holy fuck, baby” he says through clenched teeth. “You’re so good- so good.”

Little beads of precum started to form at his tip, which you hesitantly tasted. He sits up slightly, his eyes dilating when he sees how your small hand barely wraps around his cock. It’s clear you don’t want to overwhelm yourself, your eyes closed in concentration as you wrap your lips around the head of his dick, sucking softly before letting your tongue travel around the shaft.

You keep your eyes closed as you try to focus on his dick. You wanted to cement him into your memory, carving out a portion of your mind that would be dedicated to him and only him. Where you could recall how heavy his cock was against your tongue, how his abs against your plush stomach made him groan, or how his tongue felt against your little bud. He was just so perfect. You couldn’t stop thinking about it while your tongue traced his cock. His beautiful brown eyes, stoic personality- his protective instinct? How he always checked on you? It made your head spin. You never thought you’d have him like this.

Logan couldn’t help but run his fingers through your hair, ever so slightly pushing you down further so you’d lap at the base of his cock. When he feels a few cold droplets fall around his groin, he grunts and looks down, struggling to keep his eyes open. But within a few seconds, his eyes are open and alert as he stares down at you with wide eyes. You were crying. Your eyes were closed as you licked along his veiny cock, tears dripping down and gathering at the base. He quickly sat up, using your hair to pull you off of him gently. “Baby- baby, what’s wrong?” He said slightly panicked.

You’re a little confused when he pulls you away and starts to speak, your mind foggy and vision slightly blurry. “hm?” You hum faintly as he pulls you onto his lap, his hands quickly cupping your cheeks and wiping your tears away. When you register his worried gaze, you start to come back a little, moving your hand to wipe at one of your eyes. You look down with slight confusion to find that you had been crying. Crying on his cock when he hadn’t even done anything- jesus.. it was pathetic. Your cheeks quickly heat up when you realize how stupid you looked. “N-nothing” you stutter out quickly as you try to wipe your tears away completely, eyes downcast and unable to meet his own. “My- my body is just- being dumb.” You murmur quietly.

He huffs at your words, not taking that for an answer as he lifts your head up to face him. “Did I hurt you?” He asks, his voice much softer than usual. “You gotta be honest with me, bub.”

You quickly shake your head no, hating that he even considered he was to blame. “No- no. I don’t.. I don’t know why I’m..” you trail off, embarrassment flooding your body.

His eyes never leave your own, his thumb tracing over your cheek gently as his other hand falls to your hip. “Was it overwhelming?” He asks faintly. “I.. I know I’m bigger. Than average, I mean.” He murmurs.

You quickly shake your head, your eyes landing on his own. “I was just- thinking.” You murmur quietly. “While I was.. you know.”

His head tilts slightly, his hand shifting to brush his fingers through your hair. “You shouldn’t have to think, bub. M’supposed to take care of ya.” He sighs softly. “What’s going through that head of yours?” He asks.

You look downcast, leaning against his hand when he rubs your head. As you look down, you start to realize that your bare cunt is against his cock- but you’d ruined it. He wasn’t all that hard anymore, not nearly like he was. When his question registers, you sigh faintly. “Just.. about you.” You confess in a whisper. “You’re so.. warm.” You murmur. “And safe. And pretty.”

A faint scoff slips past his lips, a tiny smirk at the corner of his mouth. “So? You started crying because you like me so much?” He teases. But what he doesn’t expect, is for you to look up at him with a guilty look in your eyes. Christ.. he couldn’t catch a break with you. First you praise him more than he’s ever been praised, and now here you are crying because he’s too perfect? Fucking hell. When he sees the genuineness in your gaze, he stills for a few moments. “Baby.. ya can’t be serious.”

You look downcast once again, and you feel tears starting to form in your eyes, which you quickly start to wipe away. “It’s- it’s different.” You say quietly in your own defense. “I’m different.”

His eyes narrow for a moment in thought. “..different.” He repeats faintly. When you nod, he leans his head back against the headboard as his eyes trail over your naked form, his hands moving to knead at your thighs. “Different or not.” He murmurs. “I still want you.”

A weak smile forms on your lips for a moment. “I’ve never sat in someone’s lap.” You confess softly as you gesture down to how you’re seated on top of him. “No one’s ever seen me naked. Not like this.” You murmur with a shaky sigh. “No one’s ever.. held me.” You whisper, placing one of your hands over his own. “Made me feel warm. And safe.”

His body tenses when he listens to you speak. You were a virgin. And not just physically- it sounded like it was emotional too. No boyfriends to hold you? Cuddle you? Keep you close like you’re their personal teddy bear? The thought made him a little sick. Knowing you’d gone for so long without touch. Without another thought he wraps his arms around you, pulling you to lay completely against his chest. “Baby.” He whispers against your ear as he starts to rub your back. “sweet boy.” He adds faintly. “No wonder you were crying. I- I should’ve held you. Should’ve held you first.”

Your body tenses when he pulls you close, but you very slowly start to relax against him. God he was warm- like a heater. You couldn’t help but melt against him, your legs spreading as you rested against him completely, your bare chest against his own. “s’okay.” You murmur faintly. “i just wanted to touch you.. didn’t matter how.”

He sighs faintly as he holds you close, tucking his face into the crook of your shoulder. “Can’t get over how sweet you are.” He murmurs against your skin. The two of you stayed like that for a few small moments, but you can’t ignore the ache between your legs anymore. You tentatively press your lips to his collar bone, the kiss featherlight. You wanted him so badly- but you didn’t want to ruin the moment. A small smile crosses his lips when he feels your lips, and one of his hands travels down your back. “I can feel you dripping” he smirks against your ear. “No point in being shy now, yeah?”

You sigh softly, your cheeks burning hot against his skin. “can we?” You whisper tentatively.

He smiles softly, pulling his arms from around you to rest on your thighs. Leaning back slightly, he reaches down as you lift your hips, jerking himself a few times before aligning with your entrance. “Do you trust me?” He says as he looks up at you, his voice full of care.

Your hands rest on his chest, trying to ground yourself with a shaky sigh, your eyes closing. “With my life, Logan.” You say breathlessly.

His breath hitches and he gently guides you down with his other hand, heavy hold on your hip. You hiss slightly as his tip prods at your tight hole, and he lets out a groan. “fuck baby” he huffs. “need this pussy wrapped around me, yeah?” he grunts as you sink down a little further.

Your eyes are tightly shut, trying to calm down your breathing as you feel the little burn of his tip slipping in. It’s clear you’re trying to focus, and Logan can feel how tight you’re clenching around him. “f-fuck” you whimper, your thighs shaking as you try to go slow. When he feels how tense you are, his brows furrow slightly with concern. You needed to be relaxed- you needed to enjoy this. He needed to take care of you. Before he can slip in any deeper, he gently pulls you off of him, much to your surprise. You look down at him with concern as you rest on his thighs. “Lo?” You ask softly. “Did I do something wrong?”

He shakes his head no, lifting you up slightly so he can get onto his knees. He lets your back fall against the mattress as he shifts up as close to your boycunt as he can get. “Gonna take care of ya” he grunts as he puts his hands under your knees on the backs of your thighs, holding them up so he can position himself correctly. When he lets your legs go you sigh softly, letting them wrap around his waist. “I think you’ll like this much better.. I can get as deep as you want- all ya gotta do is ask.” You nod gently, watching as he moves to lean over you, his eyes closing as he grabs his cock, lining it up with your hole once again. “This time-“ he murmurs as he presses in slightly. “It’s for real, baby.”

You gasp weakly when you feel that burn in your pussy as it tries to accommodate him. Before you can even really comprehend the pain, his lips meet your own in a deep kiss, making sure you’re distracted from any discomfort. His other hand shifts down to your boycunt, his thumb gently tapping your little bud, trying to not get you too overwhelmed too early. “Logan” you choke out when he manages to press in almost halfway. “it- it won’t fit” you say quickly, but his thumb on your clit starts to calm your mind.

He presses a gentle kiss to your chin before drifting down to leave hickeys on your neck. “You were made for me, sweet thing” he whispers. “I promise it’ll fit.”

Logan swears he’s seen heaven at this point. The way your tight, warm walls engulf him are driving him to the brink of insanity. You’re squeezing him like a vice, and he can feel how goddamn wet you are. Out of all the people he’s fucked, he knows this one is different. The grip of your boycunt is like a loving hug, and the way your eyes flutter closed makes his lower stomach twist into knots. Could he even remember a time he knew a man this perfect? Sure, he’s had a few guys choke on his dick every now and then.. but this was something different entirely. He could feel himself submitting to you- even though he was taking the lead. Everything in his being was screaming at him to make you feel good. His legs wanted him to pound into you, his arms wanted to hold your legs back to make sure he could reach your deepest spots. It took everything in him to hold himself back, to make sure he didn’t overwhelm you.

Hearing your soft cries of his name made him clench his teeth. He’d never been overly fond of his name, but hearing it from your lips made it sound like the most beautiful thing in the world. He said your name over and over like a prayer as his arm wrapped around your torso, his face burying itself into the crook of your neck. “so fucking good- you’re so good” he groans against you as he starts to suck hickeys into your skin. He made sure the pumps of his hips were loving, grinding against you as carefully as he could, ensuring you could feel every inch of him over and over again. “ya feel me?” he grunts against your ear, making you mewl. “that’s right kid- this cock is all yours. Never givin�� it to anyone else.” He groans.

Your arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, holding him as closely to you as possible. He could tell how much you craved his touch, the warmth that his body offered, and he made sure to give you everything he could. “logan!” You gasp out, making him clench his teeth. “holy shit- don’t stop- please don’t fucking stop.” You pleaded into his ear.

He chuckled at your words, slowing his hips just enough to drive you crazy. The tender grind of his crotch against your puffy clit left you dizzy, your thoughts melting into nothing but him- exactly what he wanted. “Good boy” he breathes against your ear. “Keep takin’ this cock, yeah? Fuckin’ hell- never realized how bad I needed you, bub.” He sighs against your skin as one of his hands shifts to your chest, squeezing the soft flesh under his palm. He audibly groans when he feels how pliable you are for him, your head resting against the mattress as his hips roll into your own. He smirks at the sight, shifting his head down so he can take your nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the peak.

You hiss at the contact of his hot tongue against your chest, the contrast sending a shiver down your spine. “Logan-“ you gasp as your hands shift into his hair, tugging on his strands to try and ground yourself. His lips let go of your chest with a pop, a grunt leaving him when you tug on his hair. It makes him buck his hips up, the hardest he’s done it yet. He freezes when he feels you gasp- had he hurt you? Did he get too eager? Before he can say anything, your hands cup his cheeks and bring him to meet your gaze. “do that again.” You said quietly, the order making him smirk.

“Yes sir.” He chuckles as he hikes up more onto his knees, giving him the leverage he needs to really fuck you good- just like he wanted to. He was thankful they were in some shitty motel instead of the mansion. There would’ve been no hiding the sound of his hips slapping against yours, or how your moans were getting progressively louder. And he couldn’t stop himself from moaning himself- your cunt just felt so good wrapped around his cock, squeezing it for all it was worth. “shit-“ he chokes out as his hand slips down to rub against your puffy clit, watching as your eyes roll back slightly. “i knew baby- i knew my hand couldn’t even come close to the real thing, yeah? So goddamn tight.. gonna milk me dry?” He grunts.

You nodded mindlessly, lost in how his cock kept hitting right up against that perfect spot inside of you, making your body tense up with ease. “Mhm” you whine in reply, your fingers tugging on his hair as your body clenches up around him. “Lo-“ you gasp weakly. “fuck-“

“That’s it” he coaxes as his thumb speeds up on your clit. “Cmon bub.. almost there. So close, yeah? You’ll feel better after you make a mess on me” he smirks as he places kisses along your collar bone, admiring the embarrassment radiating from your face. Before he can say anything else to tease you, he feels your boycunt clench up around him impossibly tight, stealing his breath away. He quickly grunts, crashing his lips against your own in a needy kiss as he tries to keep his hips moving, but he knows it’s a losing fight. You’ve got him locked down tight, cumming around his cock like you owned it. “Holy fuck, kid” he groans, his arms slipping around your form, holding you close to his chest as he braces himself.

As your mind went hazy from your release, you barely registered Logan pulling his cock out of you and rutting against your boycunt like a dog in heat. As you started to come to your senses you realize how he’s babbling against your neck as he chases his own high. “Holy hell, bub-” he chokes out. “this cunt- goddamn it’s mine.” He huffs. “fuck I’ve needed you- where the hell have you been all my life?”

Watching him with a fucked out look, you gently pull his chin forward to kiss him. But this time- this time it’s different. He feels himself cum the second you start kissing him like you love him. Like you care about him. Like he’s precious to you. His hips stutter before he lets his lower body fall onto yours, unable to form a coherent thought as you grace him with your lips against his own. You can feel the hefty rise and fall of his chest, his lungs trying to keep up with the rest of him. “Do you need some water?” Your soft voice whispered as you gazed up at him.

That look? That look was something he would never be able to forget. That look of soft dominance that came ever so naturally to you. You were smaller and weaker than him, but here you were concerned for his comfort. He was dominant, sure. He could command a room with ease, make himself the center of attention whenever he needed to. But you felt it was your responsibility to care for others without a second thought. And that’s something he could never imitate. You’re a good person through and through- and he couldn’t believe he was allowed to have you like this.

“I should be asking you that” he murmurs as he lets his head rest against your chest.

Sighing contentedly, your fingers gently trail through his hair. “You did all the work.” You huff with a tired smile. “Ten out of ten, by the way. Would fuck again.”

He snorts with laughter, sitting up to pull himself off of you. He sits back on his knees, looking over his handy work. Your abdomen painted white, chest rising and falling in tandem with his anxious heart. “Well” he smirks. “I’m always around.” He teases as he slips off of the bed, walking into the small motel bathroom. “Don’t move too soon- you might be a little weak” he calls out as you hear the sink start to run.

You slowly sit up, glancing down at how his cum shone on your skin, the trail being muddled from the rolls of your stomach. A small smile spreads on your face as you turn to look at yourself in the cheap mirror on the wall. Maybe it was your imagination.. but you felt it. That little afterglow that radiated off of you- maybe just for you to see.

After a few moments, Logan walks out of the bathroom but stops short in the doorway, watching how you admired yourself in the mirror. His smirk softened as he leaned against the doorway, clearing his throat slightly. “If you need a minute I can leave you two lovebirds alone” he teases, referring to you and your reflection. His heart flutters when he hears your laugh, and he makes eye contact with you through the mirror. “What’s got you all.. smiley?” He murmurs as he walks over to the bed, sitting near the headboard so he can get a good look at you.

You turn to look him straight on, your head tilted slightly like a puppy’s would be. “I just..” you whisper. “I don’t feel guilty.” You smile.

His smile falters, and understanding starts to set in. He gently pulls you into his arms, guiding your back to rest against his chest. He tenderly takes the warm cloth he had in his hand and starts to wipe you up, his lips against your shoulder. “I think you’re the first person that hasn’t regretted sex with me.” He murmurs faintly. “I’m bad news, kid.” He sighs.

You let your eyes close as he takes care of you, cleaning you up as gently as he could. His words make you scoff, a small smile on your lips. “Logan.. our entire lives are bad news.” You say softly, your eyes opening as you turn to look into his eyes. “You really think I’m adverse to risk? We’re doing a sting operation right now for god’s sake” you snort. Before he can reply, your eyes widen and you push yourself off of the bed, landing on wobbly feet. You catch yourself on the nightstand, a string of curses leaving you as he looks at you with confusion. “The mission!” You hiss, digging in your bag for your computer. When you check the time.. only thirty minutes has passed. Breathing a sigh of relief, you close your computer, tossing it onto the bed. “It’s only been thirty minutes? Seriously?” You huff.

Logan grins at you, lying back against the pillows. “Sex really doesn’t take that long. Unless you want it to, of course.” He smirks.

You smirk back, walking over to your bag and pulling out an oversized shirt you brought to sleep in. “I think I’m out of commission for the night” you chuckle. “But- if you say please I’ll let you take me to that diner down the road in the morning.”

Before you know it he’s up and behind you, his hands slipping around your waist. “That’s the gentlemanly thing to do.” He grunts against your ear. “Do I look like a gentleman?”

Turning in his arms, you look up at him lovingly. “Give me a week” you hum. “I can make it happen.”

He huffs, capturing your lips in a kiss. When he pulls away, one of his hands slip up to cup your chin. “Fuckin’ hell..” he breathes. “You’ve already won this war, you know that?”

You tilt your head with a smile. “I didn’t know there was a war to win.”

“Mhm.” He hums, letting his forehead rest against your own. “You’ve got a mutt in your corner now, bub.” He murmurs. “Throw me a bone and I’ll bark.”

RAHHHH I FINALLY FINISHED IT‼️ I really hope you guys enjoyed! This is officially my longest writing ever. Reblogs and notes are extremely appreciated!! I look at every notification I get :)

[alexturntable]

excuse me?

[retrosabers]

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐔𝐌𝐄’𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌.

logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: the scent of you is driving logan crazy.

contains: mild 18+ content. MINORS DNI. mentions of masturbation (m&f), a steamy little make out, and implications of future smut

word count: 1.8k

a/n: not me trying to capitalize off the hugh jackman renaissance and revive my dead blog…anyways, this is my first time writing for logan! hope you all enjoy <3

i feel like we don’t talk enough about logan’s enhanced sense of smell.

the man can catch a whiff of someone the second they walk into the room, even the building sometimes if their scent is strong enough. it’s especially heightened when he realizes he’s attracted to you. at first he thought maybe it was because you were always wearing perfume, the aroma lingering around the mansion wherever you traveled. but then it became such an intense, all encompassing sensation that he knew it was something deeper.

his suspicions are confirmed one night as he walks past your room. if the faint whimpers he heard weren't enough confirmation of your activities, then the scent that fills his nostrils seals the deal.

you’re touching yourself. and he can smell your arousal.

it makes something stir in his stomach. the animal-like urges he always tries so hard to keep at bay threaten to make their way to the surface the longer he stands frozen in the hallway. logan attempts to shake the heat that spreads across his skin as he makes his way back to his own room, but it only ends with him cumming hard into his hand an hour later.

the next day, when he catches you on your way out of charles’ office, you offer him the same kind, beaming smile you always did. then that damned smell fills his nostrils again and his fists curl at his sides once you’re out of eyesight.

there’s only one explanation for it.

you’re ovulating.

which means there’s no escaping his desires unless you stay out of reach.

so for his sake and yours, he decides to just avoid you completely until the week is over. he can’t risk caving to those urges and doing something stupid and irrational.

of course you’re completely oblivious to it. you think that he’s just being weird, going through another rut of being a standoffish loner like he was when he first arrived at the mansion. because after about a week, he’s back to being a bit friendlier, to being the logan you had grown to call a close friend.

then the cycle seems to repeat itself and you notice it’s just you he’s avoiding.

you try and wrack your brain to think of anything you could’ve done to warrant this kind of isolation. you hoped if something upset logan he would just talk to you about it instead of playing this childish game of hot and cold.

after a couple months, you decide you’ve had enough.

cornering him was a difficult task. but you were observant enough to know certain parts of his routine, including exactly when he would be lingering in the common areas after all the kids had gone to sleep. after two failed attempts of trying to catch him in the kitchen, you finally managed to find him alone and unsuspecting.

“why have you been avoiding me?” you blurt, wanting to cut right to the chase. you’re expecting him to flinch a little bit, perhaps even be stunned.

but he knew you were coming. logan knew it was only a matter of time before you noticed his schtick.

still, he decides to look for an excuse, any excuse, to cover up the real reason.

“m’not avoiding you” he grumbles halfheartedly around the rim of a beer bottle. taking an extra long swig, he finally turns to look at you; leaning against the doorway with your arms folded and a look akin to annoyance plastered across your pretty face.

you cock your head to the side, clearly unimpressed with his answer.

“a few days ago, i watched you back out of a room the minute you realized i was in it,” you start to list off, counting with your fingers. “last month you avoided the wing where the gym was altogether while i was going through a new training regimen.”

logan winces at the memory. the scent of your pheromones was intoxicating. so much so that he couldn’t step foot anywhere near the gym without feeling like he needed to rub one out.

“and the month before that,” you huff out a sad laugh, voice suddenly soft and quiet. “you didn’t even say goodbye before you went off on that mission with scott and jean.”

guilt overtakes him quickly at the pain in your tone.

you’ve never looked smaller as you pick at a loose thread on your sweatpants. “did i do something wrong?”

“no,” logan reassures, jumping out of his seat at record speed, though still trying to maintain some distance. “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“then what is it? you sigh exasperatedly, desperate to put an end to this nagging feeling that’s been eating away at you. “logan, you know if something’s bothering you, you can tell me.”

and he wants to. he so badly wants to, maybe even see if you’ll offer to help him out. but you’re you. the sweetest, kindest thing he’s ever known and he’ll be damned if he lets his curse of a mutation ruin whatever relationship the two of you have.

but then you’re inching closer and his skin starts buzzing again. his senses are consumed by you. by the way you look up at him with big, wide eyes, the softness of your skin as you reach to place a comforting hand on his forearm. it's all too much, and he finds himself pulling away from you with a grunt.

it hurts to see him retreat from you so aggressively. his jaw is clenched tight, his fists at his sides even tighter as the veins in his arms bulge bigger than you’ve ever seen before. he looks pained. like he’s fighting something internally.

“logan,” you approach him cautiously, unsure of what exactly to do. “what’s going on?”

his eyes squeeze shut at the sound of your voice. “just, please go back to your room.”

“i’m not leaving you like this.”

“m’not asking you,” he grits out, almost like a growl. “i’m telling you. go back to your room.”

now he was starting to piss you off. you narrow your eyes, leaning your hip against the counter.

“or what?”

suddenly he’s crowding your space, chest heaving up and down as he stares at you with pupils so wide his eyes are nearly black. logan’s voice is scarily level when he utters his final warning.

“or i’m gonna do something i regret.”

when you shift closer to him, his nose twitches with a sniff. the raise of your brow doesn’t go unnoticed, and he knows that you’re not leaving this room until you get to the bottom of what he’s been hiding.

that’s when something inside logan decides to throw caution to the wind, just for a minute.

“i can smell you.”

curiosity morphs into confusion at his admission. you shake your head.

“i don’t understand.”

then, the man’s gaze travels to the waistband of your pajama pants, the tension in his jaw growing more taught by the second. his hands flex at his sides, trying to keep him grounded and calm as he finally admits what’s been driving him mad.

“i can smell you.”

the emphasis on the last word takes a minute to register. logan watches as the gears turn behind your eyes, catches the exact moment of realization as your gaze softens and your lips part.

oh.

oh.

slowly things start to piece together. how logan’s behavior seemed to fall around the same time these past couple months. a few weeks before your cycle.

he wasn’t avoiding you because he was angry, or upset. he was avoiding you because you were fucking ovulating.

logan expects you to flee, to be completely weirded out and steer clear of him for the foreseeable future. what he’s not expecting, is the words that come out of your mouth.

“i can help you with that if you want.”

you say it with such nonchalance, such casualness that he wonders if you’re even really grasping what you’ve said.

the wolverine shakes his head. “trust me, you don’t want this.”

he doesn’t quite believe his own words as he watches you close the distance between your bodies. something you’ve been desperate to do for as long as you can remember.

the thin fabric of his tank top and the soft cotton of your t-shirt is the only thing standing between you both. your chests are mere centimeters from touching and logan can feel the heat radiating from your bodies as his confession hangs heavy in the air. then that fucking smell comes back tenfold and he groans.

“you don’t get to make that choice for me,” your voice is sickly sweet, dripping with desire as your fingers ghost over the waistband of his jeans. he feels like a horny teenager as he preens at the barely there contact.

logan breathes your name, a last stitch effort to get you to run, though he knows it’s futile. if there’s one thing he knows about you, it’s that you're stubborn. unmoving in your ways.

and that when you want something, you don’t stop until you get it.

your hand comes up to cradle the side of his face, a rather gentle touch he wasn’t anticipating. his eyes flutter shut as you swipe your thumb over the expanse of his cheekbone.

your words are barely above a whisper. “i trust you, logan. completely.”

that’s all he needs to hear before he throws any sense of self control out the window.

he surges forward and captures your lips in what is possibly the most heated kiss you’ve ever experienced. you nearly stumble over at the sheer force of it. logan’s large hands fly to your waist, yours to the back of his neck as his tongue prods for entrance into your mouth. it’s messy, almost primal as you let him ravish you like he’s been thinking about for weeks.

you moan and he swallows the sound greedily, desperate to hear it again, and again, and again. when his lips move to press against the column of your throat, you know this is going to escalate into exactly what you hoped it would.

“logan,” you breathe out as he focuses on your pulse point, his hands wandering further south to knead at the globes of your ass. “not here.”

“why not?” he mutters, all smirky and smug as he continues to press wet hot kisses against your neck.

“because i would prefer if you didn’t fuck me where our friends eat.”

he laughs, a deep vibration felt against your chest as you absentmindedly grind your core against his. it makes him bring his mouth back up to yours, stealing one final kiss before he pulls away.

looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. and by god you might just let him.

pressing a playful smack against your backside, he gently nudges you in the direction of the corridor.

“lead the way sugar.”

thanks for reading! <3

[pucksandpower]

Nothing to Prove

Charles Leclerc x Vettel!Reader

Summary: it’s a tale as old as time — every female sports fan has been told to “prove” her fandom at least once in her life — but the man quizzing you quickly learns the error of his ways

The Miami sun beats down relentlessly as you make your way through the bustling paddock, your destination the familiar red and white of the Ferrari motorhome. The air buzzes with pre-race excitement, mechanics and team personnel darting about like worker bees in a particularly colorful hive.

You’re so focused on navigating the crowd that you almost don’t notice the young man who steps directly into your path, phone held aloft. His grin is a touch too smug for comfort.

“Excuse me, miss,” he says, voice dripping with false politeness. “Mind if I ask you a few questions for my TikTok?”

You hesitate, torn between ingrained courtesy and a gnawing sense of unease. “I’m actually in a bit of a hurry-”

“It’ll only take a minute,” he insists, already hitting record. “So, tell me, what’s your favorite thing about Formula 1?”

The question seems innocent enough, but there’s something in his tone that sets your teeth on edge. Still, you decide to play along for now. “Well, I love the strategy, the technology, the way the whole sport pushes the boundaries of what’s possible-”

He cuts you off with a laugh. “Come on, be honest. It’s the hot drivers, right? That’s why most girls watch.”

You blink, momentarily stunned by his blatant misogyny. “Excuse me?”

“No judgment!” He says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I get it, they’re all rich and fit. But let’s see how much you really know. Who won the 1976 World Championship?”

You open your mouth to answer, but he barrels on.

“What’s the difference between understeer and oversteer? How many points do you get for fastest lap? Come on, if you’re a real fan, this should be easy!”

Your initial discomfort has morphed into full-blown anger. “Look, I don’t have to prove anything to you. My knowledge of the sport isn’t-”

“Ah, so you can’t answer,” he says, triumphant. “Just as I thought. Another pretty face here for the-”

“Is there a problem here?”

The smooth voice comes from just behind you, followed by the warmth of a familiar body pressing against your back. Strong arms wrap around your waist, and you instinctively lean into the embrace.

The TikToker’s eyes go wide as saucers as he takes in the newcomer. “You’re ... you’re ...”

“Charles Leclerc,” your boyfriend finishes for him, voice deceptively mild. “And you are ...”

The young man sputters, clearly thrown off his game. “I’m ... I mean... I was just asking your girl here some questions about F1.”

Charles’ arms tighten fractionally around you. “Is that so? Because from where I was standing, it sounded more like an interrogation.”

You turn your head slightly, meeting Charles’ gaze. His green eyes are blazing with a protective fury that makes your heart skip a beat.

“It’s fine,” you murmur. “He was just leaving.”

Charles raises an eyebrow at the TikToker, who’s looking increasingly desperate to be anywhere else. “You heard the lady.”

But the young man, perhaps realizing his video is about to become internet gold, rallies. “Wait! I mean, no offense, but how do we know she’s not just with you for the fame? Can she even name your teammate?”

You feel Charles tense behind you, but before he can speak, you’ve had enough. You step out of his embrace, squaring up to the TikToker.

“Carlos Sainz Jr.,” you say, voice hard. “Currently P4 in the championship. And since you’re so keen on quizzing people, James Hunt won in ‘76, understeer is when the front of the car doesn’t turn enough while oversteer is when the rear steps out too much, and you get one point for fastest lap if you finish in the top ten. Any other burning questions?”

The TikToker gapes at you, clearly unprepared for this turn of events. Charles, for his part, looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh.

“I ... but ...” the young man stammers.

You press on, building up a head of steam. “Oh, and fun fact — my brother has four World Championships. But I’m sure you knew that, being such an expert and all.”

The TikToker’s face drains of color as realization dawns. “Your brother? You’re Sebastian Vettel’s sister?”

Charles can’t contain his amusement any longer. He laughs, the sound rich and warm. “I tried to warn you. You’ve awakened the beast.”

You shoot him a mock glare. “You’re not helping.”

He holds up his hands in surrender, still grinning. “Far be it from me to interfere with your righteous fury. Please, continue.”

The TikToker looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. “I ... I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize-”

“That women can be genuine fans?” You interrupt. “That we might actually understand and love the sport for its own sake? Or just that you shouldn’t make assumptions about people based on their gender?”

He winces. “All of the above?”

Charles steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. The touch is gentle, but there’s steel in his voice when he speaks. “I think it’s time for you to go. And delete that video while you’re at it.”

The young man nods frantically, fumbling with his phone. In his haste to retreat, he trips over his own feet, sprawling ungracefully on the ground. Charles moves to help him up, ever the gentleman, but you put a restraining hand on his arm.

“Let him sort himself out,” you mutter. “A little humiliation might do him some good.”

Charles chuckles, pulling you close. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

As the TikToker scrambles away, face burning with embarrassment, you allow yourself to relax into Charles’ embrace. The adrenaline of the confrontation leaves you feeling a bit shaky.

“You okay?” Charles asks softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You nod, letting out a long breath. “Yeah. Just ... frustrated. Why do people still think like that?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I wish I knew. It’s not fair, the assumptions people make.”

“It’s not just about me,” you say, turning to face him fully. “It’s about all the female fans out there who get treated like this. Who get quizzed and belittled and have their passion questioned at every turn.”

Charles nods, his expression serious. “You’re right. It’s a bigger problem than just one idiot with a TikTok account.”

“Sometimes I wonder if it will ever change,” you admit, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you.

Charles cups your face in his hands, his touch impossibly gentle. “It will,” he says with conviction. “Because of people like you who stand up and call it out. Who refuse to let ignorance go unchallenged.”

You lean into his touch, allowing yourself a small smile. “When did you get so wise?”

He grins, some of his usual playfulness returning. “I have my moments. Don’t tell anyone though, it’ll ruin my reputation.”

You laugh, the tension finally starting to dissipate. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Charles leans in, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m proud of you, you know,” he murmurs. “The way you handled that ... it was impressive.”

“Yeah?” You ask, a hint of vulnerability creeping into your voice.

“Absolutely,” he says firmly. “You were brilliant. Fierce. Passionate.” His voice drops lower, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Incredibly sexy.”

You swat his arm playfully. “Behave yourself, Leclerc. We’re in public.”

He affects an innocent expression that doesn’t fool you for a second. “I’m always on my best behavior.”

You snort. “That’s what worries me.”

Charles laughs, the sound bright and carefree. It never fails to make your heart soar. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. “Come on, let’s get to the motorhome. I think we both could use a moment of peace before the craziness really begins.”

As you walk hand in hand through the paddock, you can’t help but reflect on the incident. It leaves a sour taste in your mouth, but there’s also a spark of hope. Because for every misogynistic TikToker, there are countless fans — of all backgrounds — who love the sport for what it is. Who appreciate the skill, the strategy, the sheer spectacle of it all.

And maybe, just maybe, standing up to ignorance one interaction at a time is how change really happens.

Charles squeezes your hand, pulling you from your thoughts. “What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?”

You smile, leaning into him slightly as you walk. “Just thinking about how lucky I am. To be here, doing what I love. To have people in my life who support me and believe in me.”

He brings your joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “The luck goes both ways, mon cœur. You make me better, on and off the track.”

As you approach the Ferrari motorhome, its bright red a beacon in the sea of team colors, you feel a renewed sense of purpose. There will always be challenges, always be those who try to tear others down. But with love, determination, and a refusal to back down from what’s right, anything is possible.

Even changing the world of Formula 1, one small interaction at a time.

[httpsserene]

Lando smut driveroom after hia dnf🫠🫠

𝐝𝐧𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬

summary: what goes down in their driver’s room with you after a dnf. content warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. hurt/comfort (in a way). sexual propositions. angry sex (implied). depressed charles. mercedes f1 team slander. sir kink. periods. face-sitting, vaginal sex, masturbation, voyeurism, blowjobs, cunnilingus, shower sex (light or implied). pairing: the grid x fem!reader (1,4,16,44,55,81) genre: drabbles.

from serene: river baby, this one’s for you xxx we all know what inspired this one lmao !!! oh, i will not be doing extended fics for any of these, they are just quick drabbles as a little writing exercise for me! (okay, okay, okay, fine i’ll finish toasty part two i promise it'll be released soon)

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𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧, 𝐦𝐚𝐱 #𝟏

You’ve never found Max’s skill for talking endlessly annoying or draining. In fact, you can recall telling him that hearing him eagerly explain about racing or other topics that interest him is attractive, multiple times. However, you’re not sure if you can withstand much more of him rambling through a retelling of every single lap he raced before he had to retire, looking for any possible point where he could’ve done something different to prevent it. 

The two of you are sitting on his small couch, pressed side to side, and you’re offering small nods of agreement and hums of understanding during his pauses between words that echo in the small private room. His helmet was shoved in a random cubby, his balaclava draped on top of it but, he hasn’t made any other progress in taking off his race gear. His gloves are still covering his hands as he fiddles with the straps around his wrists, his race suit and boots still properly secured, the smell of sweat and gasoline–the scent of man alluring to your nose–the heat of his body radiating against your side instigating the warmth that floods your cheeks, and the sound of his lisp curling seductively around his speech prompting less than pure thoughts as your heart flutters and thighs press together.

Max is unaware of the sudden twist in your thoughts as he verbally attempts to calculate just exactly where he could’ve improved his outcome, his voice rumbly with an undertone of displeasure, when you cut him off.

“Let me make it better,” you offer.

The Dutch driver cocks his head at you, his expression confused and humored, “How can you make my DNF better? I do not think you can go back in time and—”

“No, Max,” you interrupt, teeth tugging at your bottom lip gently, “Let me sit on your face.”

Visibly, you see his breath catch and eyes widen. His mouth opens and closes as he tries to formulate a response, tongue flicking out to dampen his lips as he thinks—before his pupils blow large, and he swallows audibly.

“Oh,” Max starts, finally tugging his gloves off and tossing them to the floor, then moving to undo the strap of his race suit, “That would make it better.”

𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 #𝟒

He’s pacing the small length of the room angrily, ranting about his retirement loudly enough that you know it’s seeping through the thin walls. You stare at him with a slightly concerned gaze, getting slightly annoyed as his race suit tied low on his hips threatens to smack you in the face every time he turns around. 

You’re well aware that Lando is quick to anger and brood as he freely makes everyone aware of where the blame needs to be placed. But, the dark and unyielding look in his eyes leads you to believe that he’ll be a little too real to the press today and you would hate to have to deal with a simultaneously enraged and ashamed Lando once he realizes what he said. Then, you’ll have to comfort him as he overthinks his words and doom scrolls through Twitter to see what people are saying about him. You would like to sleep tonight, so you can’t have him embarrass himself today. Thankfully, Lando’s a man, a very simple man at his core. 

You stand up from the couch and pull off his hoodie that you stole. Lando continues to rage and pace, not aware of your movement. You undo the buttons of your shirt, shrugging it off to stand in your bra and jeans. Lando doesn’t notice your state of undress until he spins around to find you topless and shimmying your jeans down your hips.

“Um,” Lando stutters, eyes fixed on your tits, “Why are your clothes off?”

“Get over here and fuck your anger out,” you command, “So when you talk to the press, you don’t say the stupid shit you're telling me now.”

Lando mumbles and pouts offended as he scrambles to lose his race suit, “‘s not stupid shit.”

You roll your eyes and reach out to tug him forward strongly, humming as the length of his body knocks against yours, easily stuffing your hand down his fireproofs and kissing on the meat of his neck, “mhm–I’m sure it isn’t.”

𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 #𝟏𝟔

The room is silent as Charles blankly stares at the wall, you’re not sure if he is aware of your hand comfortingly scratching along his back. He only offered words of exhaustion and depression as he slipped quietly into his room and curled next to you as he dissociated from his retirement.

You’ve tried everything. You cooed soothingly, you complained about the result, and you even loudly expressed how terrible you think the car and Ferrari are and he didn’t say a single word. He simply continued to stare at the wall, his suit and helmet still on, visor down, and expression unreadable. Anxiously, you shifted next to him, not used to experiencing Charles this out of it. And suddenly, the idea came to you. Breaking the silence, you suggested giving him head to relieve his stress. Charles said no. Your brow furrowed perplexed at his denial; he’s never rejected a blowjob before. You took it one step further and offered to let him fuck it out of you (you were previously adamant on the “no sex in the driver’s room” rule because sound carries), and you were sure the Monegasque was about to say yes before he shook his head violently like he was forcibly removing the thought, and mumbled something along the lines of, “I don’t deserve it.” 

That is something you will not let slide. Charles doesn’t need to punish himself after he’s already out of the race, but if he won’t allow himself to indulge in you, you’ll strongly encourage him to.

“Okay, Charlie,” you whisper, “If you’re sure.”

He doesn’t zone back in until he hears your whimpers seep into the air, snapping his head to look at you. He finds you with one hand tugging at your nipple and your other hand shoved under your skirt—from the movement, he can guess that you’re two fingers deep. You hear Charles choke audibly and you can’t help but toss your head back and giggle, the laughter turning into a moan of pleasure as your fingers pass over a sensitive spot.

“I-I think–merde,” Charles cuts himself off as he stares at your show, “I think I’ve changed my mind.”

The helmet stays on.

𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐨𝐧, 𝐥𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐬 #𝟒𝟒

You’re unsure if Lewis is even mad about his retirement. The man seems mentally deranged as he laughs gleefully about ending his race early. Understandably, he is complaining about the bottoming of the car and the hell it’s wreaking on his back–so, maybe the joy is justifiable, your man is…older.

The thing is, Lewis switches from rambling about his back pain to complaining about Mercedes and repeating how he can’t wait for a change in scenery at Ferrari. In the Mercedes motorhome. Loudly. You know he’s doing it on purpose based on the vengeful look in his eyes. He recalls almost every single moment the team dismissed his critiques and suggestions, every single moment they didn’t appear at his podiums, every single moment they thought he wouldn’t leave, every single moment they took him for granted. And, Lewis is more than welcome to express his grievances—but you would still like him to leave on good terms as Toto did promise you a custom G-Wagon (not that Lewis can’t get you one himself; you would just hate to see him ruin his connections).

Lewis also can’t help being hot. He sits comfortably splayed out on his couch, a towel tied loosely on his hips from his shower, chest bare as beads of water fall downwards and get caught in the maze of his toned abdomen, his tattoos become art pieces as you appreciate the sight fully. He continues to partake in his amusing one-man conversation as he clasps his chain around his neck—and you break.

“Let me suck your dick,” you blurt out, cheeks flushing, surprised at your own words, “...sir?”

Lewis pauses, raising an eyebrow at you from where you’re leaning on the room door. 

“Well, I don’t know why you’re still standing over there if that’s what you want. Kneel.”

The sound of your knees hitting the floor sings in the air, “Yes, sir.”

𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢, 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 #𝟖𝟏

Oscar’s already sequestered himself away in his room before you were able to intercept him on his way. The mechanics are lowly gossiping about how mad he was when he pulled himself out of the car and they watch after you in fear as you make your way to your boyfriend.

Oscar? Mad? He’d never take it out on you, there’s no reason for the mechanics to be worried. Except when you enter the room, the vibes are peculiar. Oscar’s calmly folding his race suit, boots tucked away into their proper place, standing in just his fireproofs—they compliment his body well, extremely well. He turns to look at you and there’s a smile on his face as if he hasn’t retired from a race. He opens his arms for a hug, and you hesitate for a moment before fulfilling his request. His arms wrap around you warmly and he nuzzles his face into your hair, pulling back briefly to press a kiss on your forehead before tightening his embrace. It feels more like he’s comforting you than you’re comforting him. He walks the two of you backward to his couch and pulls you down to sit on his lap. 

Somehow, Oscar brightens more, “Hi, baby,” he grins, hands moving to fiddle with the hem of your shirt.

“Uhh, I’m sorry about your race?” Your tone of voice is unsure.

“Oh,” he laughs dismissively, “It happens sometimes–it was listed in the job description.” His right hand slips underneath your shirt as he speaks, moving calmly to tug the cups of your bra down underneath your chest, squeezing lightly at the plush weight in his hand. 

You’re convinced he’s severely concussed, but it doesn’t stop you from arching towards him, your hips rolling forward unconsciously, “Ummm— ‘s there a-anything I can do to help?”

Oscar’s hand draws out of your shirt and halts the grind of your hips in a flash, he coos at you, “Aw, that’s so sweet of you to offer…let me fuck your tits—please?”

What were you going to do, tell him no?

𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐣𝐫, 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 #𝟓𝟓

You’re going to slam your head on the corner of the sink and hope it knocks you out. You’ll do it if means the sounds of Carlos’ whining stop. He forcibly pulled you up on the counter of the sink and told you to stay put as he showered so he could talk it out to you.

Naively, you thought the sound of the shower running would muffle his words and you were wrong. On any other day, you would be fine to support him through his complaints but your period is due to start in a couple of days and the irritation and sore muscles are already affecting you. Originally, you were eager to watch Carlos shower—that’s a sight plenty of women and men alike would kill you for. Then, the glass fogged with steam depriving you of something to ogle. And, if there’s one thing a woman is experiencing besides pain, sensitivity, and anger before her period, it’s being horny. You rationalize your thought process as you get undressed; Carlos gets some stress relief and you get to hear moans and grunts of pleasure instead of his huffing, grumbling, and whining. 

You slide the glass door open and closed as you step in the shower, completely bare except for the necklaces, earrings, and anklet with the #55 charm he gifted you randomly, “Carlos, por favor, be quiet.”

The Spanish man’s mouth is agape as he stares at you, frozen in the middle of his motion of scrubbing soap along his arm, “¿Qué?”

You roll your eyes, tugging the soapy cloth out of his hand and setting it on the shower shelf, “There’s better things you could be doing with your mouth.”

Carlos blinks, returning to the present and sinking to his knees in the too-small shower. 

He stares up at you with his big, sweet, lust-drenched, brown eyes, his hair a mess from the spray of the shower, and his voice cracking as he speaks, “Yes, definitely.”

© httpsserene2024

[imagine-you]

Think I Only Want You Under My Mistletoe [Logan/Reader]

Summary: In which you need a fake date to your parent's Christmas party, Logan volunteers, and you realize that maybe your unrequited crush isn't so unrequited after all. May include: Fake Dating, Real Feelings, Meddlesome Friends, Terrible Parents, and Mistletoe. Word Count: 5.5k Author's Notes: Part of my In Another Life, Perhaps 'verse. In which they're stuck in a Hallmark Movie Universe??? Either way, Merry Christmas, y'all! 🎄

Read on AO3

"Ugh," you groaned, letting your face fall into your hands. You figured it was better than hitting your head against the table in the hopes that your situation would suddenly change.  

"What's wrong?" Ororo asked, studying you across the break room table.  

“My whole life,” you grumbled, knowing you were being childish, but glad that none of your students were around to see it.  

You had managed to get a brief moment of respite from the teenagers roaming the halls of the X-Mansion by retreating to the makeshift teacher's lounge located in a room tucked away near the kitchen. All of you had worked to make it your own space.  

Hank had lugged in a refrigerator and at some point a microwave had shown up on someone's repurposed nightstand. Charles had offered to pay for whatever the staff might have wanted, but all of you seemed to want to fill the room with personal touches and effects. So, someone had dragged in an old table that must have been stored in the attic and other people stole desk chairs from unoccupied rooms. Over time, a coffeemaker had been added along with a small cabinet full of snacks. There were also photos along the wall, candid and professional shots of the staff.  

Your favorite was a group shot where most of you were making a goofy face. Your eyes were always drawn to Remy doing bunny ears behind Logan’s head and Logan in the middle of snarling at Remy to cut it out, but there was just the tiniest bit of a grin peeking at the edges of Logan’s mouth.  

He swore he hated you all, but you knew better. He was part of the family and there was a reason he had stuck around despite his own protests.  

The lounge was one of your favorite places to be and it was even better when you were joined by your fellow teachers and friends. It was a bonus perk knowing that none of the kids were allowed. You loved teaching and you loved all the bright, young students taking up residence in the mansion, but it was nice to get a break from time to time.  

 Especially when you needed a safe place to vent your frustrations about every wrong turn your life seemed to take.  

“No, really, what’s wrong?” Ororo asked again.  

"My parents," you sighed, sliding the invitation you received earlier that morning across the table so she could read it.  

"What's the big deal, sugar?" Rogue wondered, leaning over Ororo’s shoulder so she could read the paper as well. "Sounds like a good time." 

"Every year, it's always the same," you explained, reaching out to grab the invitation when Ororo handed it back. "My parents invite me to their Christmas party and I go because I love them, but I end up having a miserable time." 

"If it's so miserable, why bother going?" Logan asked from where he was leaning up against the table that held the coffeemaker and microwave. He was sipping a beer and looked relaxed in a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. You had a fleeting thought that Logan looked really good and you hoped Charles or Jean hadn't managed to catch that.  

Charles had only grown more meddlesome in his old age and you certainly didn’t need him trying to set you up with Logan. And Logan had been infatuated with Jean for as long as you had known him. You really didn’t cherish the idea of her knowing she had something you desperately wanted.  

"It's complicated," you tried, but rolled your eyes when Logan simply arched a brow at you, unimpressed with your attempt at deflection. "My parents aren't so fond of mutants," you finally conceded, unsurprised at Logan's snort and shake of his head.  

"I might be missing something here, but you're a mutant, aren't you?" Remy asked as he dropped down into the chair at Rogue's side. He let his arm stretch across the back of her chair and you noticed the way she leaned into him, careful not to let her skin brush against him.  

You hadn't noticed Remy enter the room, since you had been so focused on Logan. You shrugged your shoulders, staring morosely at the rest of your sandwich. "Yeah," you sighed, meeting Remy's gaze. "They love me. They do," you insisted at Remy's incredulous look. "But they want me to be normal. I only see them a couple times a year, since I'm usually here with the X-Men, and every year at Christmas, without fail, I show up without a date like an idiot. And then my parents try to set me up with some normal human guy as if that will make me somehow more acceptable to them." 

"That sure sounds a lot like conditional love, sugar," Rogue mused, quirking an eyebrow at you. "Why don't you just skip out on the party this year? Save yourself the hassle?" 

"Because as much as they've royally fucked me up with all their anti-mutant bullshit, I still love them. I can't help it. So, if I have to suffer through another year of trying to ward off some random jackass' advances while my parents stand there smiling as if they can't see how uncomfortable I am? Then I'll deal with the torture if I can make them happy for a few minutes." 

Silence invaded the room and you suddenly got the sense that every person in the room was staring at you. You didn't realize until you said it out loud just how fucked up your situation with your parents really was, but you were so deep into it that you didn't know if you'd ever be able to claw your way free.  

"Well," Ororo started, leaning forward across the table and placing a hand on your arm, as if trying to offer you comfort. "If you want them to stop meddling, then show up with a date. Break the cycle." 

"But that's the problem," you protested, crossing your arms over your chest. "I'm not dating anyone, so I don't have a date." 

"Well, it's not like it's got to be a real one, darling. Why I'm sure Remy would love to go with you. Your parents will sure get a kick out of him," Rogue offered, reaching out to settle a gloved hand on Remy's shoulder.  

Remy offered you a smirk before holding out his hand with his palm turned up. You furrowed your brow as you rested your hand in his and laughed when he pulled your hand close and kissed it.  

"It would be my pleasure," he vowed with a wink.  

You glanced from Remy to Rogue and then back again, realizing they were completely serious. You knew your parents would flip when they met Remy. He was charming, but chaotic, and sure to piss your parents off. If his red, glowing eyes didn't give away that he was a mutant, then you were sure it would only be a matter of time before he blew something up.  

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad showing up with a date. Remy was your friend and you knew that he would do whatever it took to make sure you weren't cornered by some asshole who had been misled by your parents into thinking you were on the market. You felt safe with Remy and maybe for once you might actually enjoy one of your parent's Christmas parties.  

 "Alright," you decided, nodding your head as you drew you hand back. "Yeah, that sounds like--" 

"I'll do it," Logan interrupted, startling you.  

You had completely forgotten he was practically standing right behind you. You turned in your chair to look at him. You were surprised to see him studying you, expression intent.  

"What?" You blurted, sure that you had misheard Logan.  

"I'll be your date," Logan offered before casually raising his beer and taking a sip, as if he hadn't sent your heart into a frenzy.  

"You don't have to," you assured him, not sure how you would be able to handle Logan as a date to your parent's Christmas party. It wasn't that you didn't want to go with Logan, because you absolutely did. The problem was that you had had a pathetic crush on him the moment you first laid eyes on him, but Logan was notoriously head over heels for Jean. 

 Even though she was married to Scott, you had heard time and again from practically every person on the X-Men that Logan had been in love with her from the first moment he met her. So, you wouldn't be able to handle a fake date with Logan, because you would spend the whole time desperately wishing that it was real.  

"I want to," Logan insisted, finally standing up out of his slouch against the table that had been converted into a coffee bar. He rolled his shoulders, like he was preparing for a fight, and you wondered why he was being so adamant about being your date.  

"That's sweet of you, Logan, but Remy already offered, and--," you tried before you were cut off by Logan again.  

"I'll do it," Logan stressed, a hint of a growl in his voice as he stared down Remy like he was challenging him to something.  

You glanced from Logan to Remy to Logan again.  

"What the hell is going on," you muttered, shooting a bewildered look at Ororo and Rogue to see if they were as confused as you were.  

Rogue looked amused and Ororo was watching Logan with an arched brow. But neither one seemed to be questioning the events that were playing out before them.  

After what seemed like hours of intense eye contact between the two, Remy finally held up his hands in surrender. He shot you a wink, ignoring Logan's grunt of protest.  

"I'm sure our Logan will do a fine job playing your paramour," Remy added, reaching out to run his fingers along your arm. "But if it doesn't work out, you know where to find me." 

Logan grumbled something under his breath before he strode over. He snatched the invitation off the table, succeeding in separating you and Remy, before he skimmed over the page.  

"How long will it take to get there?" Logan asked, glancing down at you.  

"It's about a three-hour drive from here," you told him, trying not to focus too much on the fact that Logan was so close to you that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. The fabric of his sweatpants was dangerously close to brushing against your arm and you had to force yourself to stay absolutely still, because you weren't even sure what you would do if you allowed yourself to move.  

"Be ready to leave by four tomorrow, then," Logan ordered before he placed his empty bottle of beer on the table between you and Remy and left the room.  

You stared at the door for a moment before finally turning your gaze on the three people patiently waiting for you to break free of your stupor.  

"What the hell just happened?" You wondered, still trying to catch up.  

"What happened," Remy started, leaning back in his seat and placing his arm along the back of Rogue's chair again, "my beautiful, clueless friend, is that Ororo here owes me twenty dollars." 

"What," you muttered, watching helplessly as Ororo handed Remy the money she evidently owed him.  

"It was only a matter of time," Remy continued, tucking the money away in his pocket. "Logan's wanted you for years." 

You scoffed, ready to deny it, but shut up at Ororo's eye roll.  

"I thought he would never make a move, but Remy had far more faith in Logan than I did." 

"A move? What move? There wasn't a move," you insisted.  

"Swooping in and stealing you away from a fake date with my Remy? That was a move," Rogue assured you, grinning at you. "It was only a matter of time. Everyone knows about Logan's feelings except for you."   

"There are no feelings, because he's been pining for Jean for years," you reminded them. You stood up, grabbing the invitation off the table, and fixed them all with a determined look. "You're all wrong, you know that? Nothing's going to happen between Logan and me," you told them before leaving the room.  

You clutched the paper in your hands and tried to ignore the fact that you really, really wanted something to happen between you and Logan.  

The next afternoon, you were nearly done getting dressed when someone knocked on your door. You glanced at the clock, realizing it was nearly four, and rushed to pull on your jacket as you walked to the door.  

You opened the door and stood, stunned, at the sight of Logan dressed in a dark t-shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket. This was as close to dressed up as Logan got and you didn't get why he was going to all the effort just for you or your mutant-hating parents.  

"Did you shave?" You blurted, noting that his usual scruff was a little more contained than usual.  

Logan shrugged his shoulders, stepping to the side and gesturing for you to lead the way. You narrowed your eyes at him as you passed him, making for the front door of the mansion. Logan reached out and stopped you with a hand on your elbow, steering you towards the garage instead.  

"Are we taking your bike?" Temperatures were quickly dropping outside and you didn't exactly want to freeze your ass off even if you would be pressed up against Logan.  

"Nope," Logan answered, not bothering to clarify until he was standing right beside Scott's car.  

"Are we stealing Summers' car?"  

Logan held up the keys, flashing you a quick grin. "Asked for permission this time," he informed you before rounding the car and pulling open the passenger side door. He stood there, watching you expectantly, before you finally forced yourself to move.  

"Thanks," you told him, gifting him with a smile, before settling into the passenger seat.  

Logan gently closed the door for you before moving towards the driver's side. It wasn't long before he was pulling the car out of the garage as you put your parent's address into the navigation system. Christmas music faintly played, filling the silence between you, and you kept shooting nervous looks over at Logan. His shoulders were tense and his hands periodically clenched the steering wheel tight. You couldn’t tell if he was regretting his decision or feeling just as anxious as you were.  

The silence began to feel excruciatingly awkward, but you didn't know how to fill it. You spent so long staring resolutely out the window that you didn't even notice when you began to drift off, your head lolling back against the headrest as your eyes closed.  

"Y/N," Logan called, his hand on your shoulder cautiously shaking you awake.  

"What?" You grumbled, reluctantly opening your eyes and squinting over at him.  

Logan looked enraptured, a soft smile on his face as he studied you.  

"We're here," he told you, prompting you to look out the windshield to the sight of your parent's home. Logan had parked the car in the long, winding driveway. There were already several cars parked along the side of it, which only made the driveway seem longer. "So, your family's loaded, huh?" 

"Yeah," you groaned with a grimace. "Why do you think they keep trying to marry me off to all their rich friend's sons? They want their legacy to continue or whatever bullshit goes on in their heads." 

"Damn," Logan sighed, shaking his head. "Good thing you won't have to worry about that this year, huh?"  

You nodded your head, finally making yourself look at Logan again. You reached out, tentative, and placed your hand on his arm. "Logan?" 

"Yeah?" He asked, staring down at your hand before turning slightly in his seat to face you.  

"Thanks," you said, pulling your hand away when you realized you had been touching him for way too long to be normal. "For doing this," you clarified, ignoring the way your cheeks flushed at his attention. "You really didn't have to, you know." 

Logan stared at you for one drawn-out intense moment and you fought the urge to look away. You inanely felt like you were in a predator's sights, which was stupid because Logan would never hurt you, but you still felt like you were being hunted. 

"Yeah, I did," he finally responded, his gaze lingering on you before he glanced away.  

Before you could question him, Logan got out of the car. You stared at the closed driver's side door for a moment before you took a deep breath and opened the passenger door. Logan met you just as you were getting out and he closed the car door for you.   

He held out his arm and you linked yours with his as you headed up towards the house. You had to stop yourself from swaying into Logan's side. There was a feeling rising within you that you weren't sure how to contain. It was anticipation and longing and fear, because if you fucked this up, then what would you do? It would be awkward living and working in the same place as Logan and you hated the idea of avoiding him all to save yourself some dignity.  

Before you were ready, you were standing on your parent's doorstep, hesitant to announce your arrival.  

"What's wrong?" Logan asked, nudging you in the side with his elbow.  

"We can leave," you blurted, avoiding his gaze. "We can leave and just skip this year and they never have to know I was here." 

Logan sighed before unhooking his arm from yours and wrapping it around your shoulders. "I've got you," he promised. "Now ring the damn doorbell." 

"That was almost sweet," you muttered, grinning at Logan's snort of amusement.  

You reluctantly reached out to ring the doorbell, wincing at the chime you had heard throughout all your childhood. It meant you were home and not where you really belonged at the X-Mansion. You were still debating the merits of just making a run for it when the door opened and you were met with the sight of your mother.  

She looked genuinely happy to see you, which was really one of the only things that was keeping you rooted to the spot. But then she realized you weren't alone and she turned her attention towards Logan. The warmth in her smile faded into something more polite and suited for company.  

"Oh, you brought a friend," your mom observed, the corners of her mouth turning down in disapproval.  

"I brought a date," you corrected her, trying not to startle when Logan dropped his hold on your shoulders and instead grabbed your hand. Feeling Logan lace his fingers through yours felt like the greatest thing ever and you hated that he was only doing it for show.  

"And who is this?" Your mom asked, already dismissive of Logan despite knowing nothing about him.  

She knew one thing, you thought, doing your best not to scowl at your mom. She hadn't picked Logan for you, so of course he wasn't good enough.  

"Logan, ma'am," he introduced with a nod of his head.  

"And how do you know my daughter, Logan?" Your mom interrogated, staring him down as if she could make him disappear if she concentrated hard enough.  

It was then you realized your mom was refusing to move until she got her answers. Your mom hated being perceived as rude and you knew she must really not want Logan there if she wasn't even going to pretend to welcome him.  

"Y/N and I work together and--" Logan cut himself off and shot you a wary look. You shook your head, letting him know not to tack on that you practically lived together as well. "We work together," he settled on with a small shrug of his shoulders.  

"Are you one of those?" Your mom asked, gesturing briefly towards you.  

You felt Logan tense up at your side and knew that trouble was fast approaching. Logan smiled at your mom, practically baring his teeth, and cocked his head to the side. "A mutant?" He supplied, practically not blinking as he met your mom's unimpressed stare with one of his own. "You could say that, sure," he added with a dangerous smirk that sent warning bells ringing in your head.  

You tightened your hold on Logan's hand, lending him your own brand of moral support while also hoping to shut him up. "Mom, it's cold out here," you hinted, quirking an eyebrow at her. “Maybe you should invite us in.” 

"Right," she muttered before stepping aside. "Why don't you and your...date," she practically sneered, "come in?" 

"Thanks," Logan told your mom, offering her a wide, unsettling smile. "Your hospitality is appreciated." 

You had never really seen Logan like this before. Maybe once or twice when he was in the same room as Scott and Jean and he wanted to get under Scott's skin. But this was somehow different and terrifying and just a bit thrilling.  

Logan was doing his damnedest to stand up for you while also pretending to respect your mom. You could tell your mom was disappointed in you, but you didn't even care. You found yourself wishing that bringing Logan as your date was real, but you would take what you could get. You would just have to enjoy Logan's attention for as long as you had it. 

Logan urged you forward with a hand on the small of your back and then helped you shrug out of your coat. “You weren’t kidding,” he muttered under his breath, sounding irritated. “You’ve put up with this shit your whole life?” 

“Yeah,” you answered, knowing it was starting to look really pathetic on your part.  

Your mom had retreated into the living room. You could see her talking to your dad and she pointed towards you and Logan. Your dad scowled before schooling his expression into something more neutral.  

"Shit," you hissed, before grabbing Logan's arm. "Let's go somewhere else," you suggested.  

"I go where you go," Logan promised, letting you lead him towards the dining room where you knew you would find a buffet-style spread of food.  

At the very least, this was something your parents always got right. Logan looked exhilarated as he piled a plate with all kinds of food, ranging from strips of steak to scalloped potatoes to slices of honey glazed ham.  

“Now this is a spread,” he approved, taking a bite of stuffed mushroom.  

“Eat up,” you told him, grinning at him. “You’ve earned it.” 

After eating and then drifting from room to room in a bid to avoid your parents, you realized that Logan was intent on keeping his word. He stayed right there at your side, letting you introduce him to your parent's friends and their kids with a smile on his face and a hand on the small of your back. 

You were beginning to feel flustered having Logan in your space, so you retreated to the one place you knew you could drop the facade for just a little bit and gain a tiny bit of your sanity back.   

You ended up hanging out with the children that had been left in a room near the back of the house. You had always hated being a kid at your parent's parties, because it meant you were stuck in a room with other kids and basically ignored for the rest of the night. But now, as an adult, it was the only true refuge to be found at your parent’s house during a party. 

You ended up entertaining them with your powers. You helped some float using your forcefields and you turned invisible and let them try to find you. All the while, Logan stood at the entryway of the room, watching you with a fond little smile that set off a fluttering in the pit of your stomach.  

After half an hour of Logan's undivided attention, you decided to give yourself a break. You planned on staying with the kids, so you doubted your parents would even find you. The plan was foolproof and would give you the time to calm your racing heart.  

"Hey, would you mind getting me a drink?" You asked Logan, glancing up at him from where you were crouched on the floor and letting Mrs. Hudson's granddaughter draw what you thought might be a unicorn on your arm.  

Logan nodded his head, pushing off the doorframe he had been leaning against. He looked so fond and you couldn’t take it anymore. 

"Any preferences?" 

"Surprise me," you told him with a grin, feeling just the slightest bit bold and playful.  

“You got it.” Logan winked before leaving the room, doing nothing to help you feel any more in control of the situation.  

"Are you and Mr. Logan getting married?" Mrs. Hudson's granddaughter asked you, adding what you assumed was blood beneath the unicorn's hooves. Either that, or she had run out of green for grass and was making do with what she had on hand.  

"Mr. Logan doesn't like me like that," you told her, obediently turning your arm over when she tapped it and shook a blue marker at you.  

"Yes, he does," she answered, as if it was that simple. She started shading in a sky and you hoped it would be easy to wash off later.  

"Well, isn't that adorable," someone drawled from the doorway.  

"Fuck," you breathed, instantly recognizing the voice.  

"That's an uh-oh word," Mrs. Hudson's granddaughter reprimanded you.  

"Sorry," you told her, patting her on the shoulder before standing up. You reluctantly turned to see your ex standing there. "What're you doing here?" 

"Your parents invited me," Timothy told you, studying you. "God, you look great." 

"Shit," you groaned, realizing that Timothy had been the person they were going to try to set you up with this year.  

"That's another uh-oh word," Mrs. Hudson's granddaughter informed you with a disapproving frown.  

"Right," you agreed before walking towards Timothy. "Maybe in front of the children isn't the best place for this conversation."  

You brushed past Timothy, hating that you were in the same room as him, much less signing yourself up for a confrontation. You had been convinced for three years that Timothy was the one until he told you that he would rather adopt children than risk you passing on any of your 'mutant genes' to them. It had crushed you, realizing that Timothy didn't fully love you at all, and you had packed up all your things and joined the X-Men.  

If anything, it should have made your parents hate Timothy for driving you away. Instead, they seemed to think he was the one who got away for you and you would never do any better.  

You stopped in the entryway of an empty guest room and turned to face him.  

"Look, I don't know what my parents told you, but I'm here with a date. I'm taken, alright? I don't want to get back together." 

"Oh, come on," Timothy said, moving forward until he was in your space. "There's no date. You don’t have to lie to me to make me want you more. I want you. I always have. And now we're here and there's a really good reason why I should kiss you right now," he continued with a quick glance up.  

You tried not to wince as you also took a chance and looked up at the frame of the doorway. "Mistletoe," you observed, hating that you had the worst luck. "It wasn't on purpose." 

"I already told you that you don't have to lie to me," Timothy claimed before bringing a hand up and cupping your cheek. "I'm all yours, babe. Just say the word." 

"Leave," Logan growled, approaching the pair of you from down the hallway. He had two wine glasses in his hands which he quickly set down on a table displaying family photos.  

"Who the fuck are you?" Timothy asked, barely even budging from his spot in front of you.  

"My date," you helpfully informed him just as Logan unsheathed his claws.  

"What the--" Timothy started just as you pushed him away with a forcefield. He went stumbling back, shooting you a look of betrayal. "You swore you'd never use that against me." 

"When we dated, sure," you reminded him. "But we're not together anymore. And we never will be again," you stressed, hoping he would get the message.  

When Logan kept coming towards the two of you, not bothering to put away his claws, Timothy's eyes widened.  

"Move it, bub," Logan snarled, looking like he was moments away from sinking his claws into Timothy. 

"Okay, okay, I get it, whatever. Tell your boyfriend I'm sorry," he rambled, practically scrambling to get away from you and Logan.  

You watched him scurry away, a grin tugging at your lips. "That was great," you exclaimed, turning back towards Logan. You nearly jumped when you realized that Logan was now standing right in front of you.  

He packed the claws away and reached up to frame your face in his hands.  

"What are you doing?" You whispered, your heart suddenly pounding so hard you were sure Logan would be able to hear it going crazy.  

"There's mistletoe," Logan reminded you, his voice soft and intimate. 

"We don't have to," you assured him. "I mean, it's just a dumb tradition, right? It's--" 

"What I want," Logan finished for you, expression intent and serious. His thumb gently swept along your jaw and you didn't even have time to process the fact that Logan wanted to kiss you before his lips were pressed against yours.  

Your brain went haywire trying to figure out what to do. You brought your hands up, unsure where they should land, before you settled them on Logan's shoulders. You were worried you would fuck the moment up by not responding, so you poured all your feelings into the kiss. You had wanted Logan for so long and if this was the only kiss you got from him, then you wanted it to be something you remembered for years to come.  

Logan's touch remained gentle, but his kiss was searching and all-consuming. You nipped lightly at his lips, testing for a reaction, and shivered when Logan moaned and reeled you in closer.  

By the time you pulled away, you felt like Logan had thoroughly claimed you. You nearly couldn't catch your breath, torn between giddy anticipation and fear that this was all about to come crashing down around you.  

You met Logan's eyes, unsure of what you would find there. You froze for a moment, sure that you were wrong, but you let yourself take the time to really look at him. You couldn’t afford to mess this up. There was way too much at stake. 

Logan was watching you like you were the only thing in the whole world. He was looking at you with affection and want and something that looked a lot like love to you. It was exactly what Remy, Rogue, and Ororo had claimed Logan had been doing all along.  

"I've really got to thank Remy," you muttered, realizing that he had been right that Logan had been making a move by agreeing to be your fake date. Except, Logan did have real feelings for you, but you were the only one who hadn't been able to see it.  

"What?" Logan growled, his grip briefly tightening on you. "You're really thinking about Remy right now? After what just happened, he’s what’s on your mind?"  

You shook your head, smiling at Logan. Logan had absolutely no reason to be jealous, because even if he might not be aware of it, there was no one who could ever compete with him. No one else had ever made you feel the way Logan made you feel. You felt like there was a warmth taking root in your chest and it was lighting you up inside. It was all Logan. His touch, his kiss, and his affection had you feeling invincible.  

As long as you had him, you truly could do anything. Including deal with your parents and their intolerance and shitty choice of suitors for you.  

Logan had volunteered to be your date and had spent a whole evening putting up with your parents and their snooty, prejudiced friends all for you. Logan had run off your ex and then kissed you like he wanted nothing more than to keep doing that for the rest of his life. Logan wanted you just as much as you wanted him and you felt like you were on top of the world.  

You didn't care that this had started out as fake, because now it was real and there was really only one thing you wanted to do now that you knew you had Logan.  

"You've got nothing to worry about. You're all I want," you assured him before reeling him back in for another kiss underneath the mistletoe.  

It wasn’t exactly the Christmas you had expected to have, but it was turning out to be the only one worth celebrating. 

Logan was truly the best gift you had ever received. 

All Logan Taglist: @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @slightlymediocree @snowyminty @i-wear-wet-socks313 @shizzybarnaclee

Series Taglist: @ayamenimthiriel @the-gentle-spirit @wolflover-20

If you would like to be added to the all logan or the series taglist, just let me know!

[neferaskingdom]

♡ Closetgate: The Max-tastrophe | MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader [Face Claim: None]

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Summary: Max finds himself in a very tight situation—literally. Lando is summoned for an emergency extraction, Charles serenades about honor, Y/N fights for her life trying to prove that nothing happened and the boys plan Max's funeral, but hey at least they finally kissed?

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Part 4 of my wheel-to-wheel but still in denial series: Masterlist

Y/N never expected this to happen. One moment, she was causing chaos on Instagram with that elevator pic—harmless fun, right? But Max’s confession came out of nowhere, and now she was standing in her apartment, heart pounding.

She barely had time to process the fact that she’d just invited Max over, let alone get ready. Y/N looked down at her oversized, mismatched pajama set, which sported a giant, ridiculous “I Paused My Game to Be Here” T-shirt. Definitely not the “I’ve just confessed to liking my childhood rival” look she was going for.

She barely had time to question her life choices before there was a knock at the door. When she opened it, Max stood there, leaning against the doorframe like he wasn’t about to change everything. He gave her that classic smirk, but something felt different tonight—softer, more uncertain.

“Did you run here or teleport?” she asked, unable to hide her surprise.

“I might have broken a few traffic laws,” he joked, walking in like he hadn’t just sprinted across town. He glanced around her apartment, then at her, still wearing her gaming shirt. "Nice shirt, by the way," he smirked.

She rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Verstappen. I didn’t expect you to break the sound barrier to get here.” Max chuckled, plopping down on her couch like he belonged there. "You texted, I ran. It's the natural order of things."

"You actually came," she blurted, mostly because she didn’t know what else to say. The second the words left her mouth, she realized how ridiculous they sounded. "You told me to," Max shot back, stepping inside without missing a beat. "What, did you think I’d say no?"

"I don’t know! Maybe?" she stammered, closing the door behind him. "This whole thing is weird!" 

"Weird how?" Max turned to face her, looking genuinely confused. "Because I confessed or because you didn’t see it coming?"

Y/N groaned, throwing her hands up. "Both! Max, we’ve spent most of our lives arguing over who’s funnier and which one of us sucks more. And now you’re telling me you like me? You don’t just drop that bomb and act like everything’s normal!"

Max shrugged, trying to act casual, but there was something in his eyes that made Y/N’s stomach flip. "I’m not saying it’s normal. I’m saying it’s real. We joke around because that’s us. But I like you, Y/N. I’ve liked you for years. I just didn’t want to mess up what we had."

Y/N’s mind was racing. She couldn’t reconcile the Max in front of her with the one who used to relentlessly call her out on social media. “So, what? You’ve been secretly into me while roasting me all these years? And I’m just supposed to be like, ‘Yeah, cool, let’s date now?’”

Max smiled, but it wasn’t his usual cocky grin. It was softer, more vulnerable. "I get it. It sounds insane. But I’m serious. When I saw that post, Y/N… I thought you had someone else. And it hit me harder than I expected. I realized I didn’t want to just be the guy you bicker with online. I wanted more than that."

She stared at him, still processing. "So, you’re telling me this now because of one random photo?"

"It wasn’t just the photo," Max said, stepping closer. "It was the idea that I’d waited too long. That I might have missed my shot."

Her heart skipped a beat. This was getting real, fast. Y/N crossed her arms, more to protect herself from the flood of emotions than anything else. "Max… I don’t know what to say."

Max chuckled lightly, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck—a nervous habit she’d noticed over the years. "You don’t have to say anything. I just couldn’t keep pretending anymore."

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. There was something so raw and honest about him right now, and it was messing with her. This was Max—her partner in social media wars, her favorite person to annoy. And now, he was standing in her living room, confessing feelings that she didn’t know how to handle.

Finally, she let out a breathy laugh. "You’re really bad at timing, you know that? I was just getting used to us hating each other."

Max’s smile widened. "We never hated each other, Y/N."

"Sure felt like it sometimes," she muttered, though there was no bite behind her words. She was too busy trying to sort through the tangled mess of emotions in her head.

"Come on," he teased softly. "You know we’ve always had a thing."

"A thing?" Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so insulting each other in public and trolling each other on Instagram was just our way of flirting?"

Max stepped closer, and this time, there was no teasing in his voice. "For me, yeah. That’s always been part of it. But it’s more than that."

Max says with a shrug. “I like you because you're chaotic and you keep me on my toes. Plus, I figured all the teasing was basically foreplay.”

Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?!” She grabbed a throw pillow and launched it at him. “That is not how that works!”

Max laughed, catching the pillow and tossing it aside. “Hey, if it’s not, it should be! We’ve been bantering for years—it’s basically flirting with extra steps.”

She facepalmed, letting out a frustrated groan. “This is so not how I expected this conversation to go. You’re taking all of this way too casually!”

Y/N’s heart was beating so loud she was sure he could hear it. "Max, this is a lot. I didn’t… I didn’t expect this."

"I know." His voice was soft now, almost unsure. "But I had to tell you. I’ve been holding it in for so long, and I thought—"

"That you’d shoot your shot now?" she cut in, trying to lighten the mood even though her head was spinning.

He grinned, finally relaxing a bit. "Exactly. You can’t blame me for that, right?"

She bit her lip, trying to hide a smile. "I guess not. But… Max, I—"

He raised a hand, stopping her. "You don’t have to say anything right now. I just wanted to be honest. For once."

Y/N sighed, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on her. "But here’s the thing… I kinda, sorta like you too." The words slipped out before she could stop them, and she immediately wanted to crawl into a hole.

Max blinked, then his smile widened into something she’d never seen before—completely genuine and warm. "Kinda, sorta, huh?"

She rolled her eyes, though her heart was flipping. "Don’t make this weird."

"Too late," Max said, stepping even closer, his voice playful but soft. "You’ve already made it weird."

Y/N groaned. "You’re impossible."

"And you like me anyway," Max shot back with a grin, his face just inches from hers now.

Y/N sighed, her defenses finally crumbling as she looked up at him. "Yeah, I guess I do."

Y/N sat down beside him, feeling the weight of the situation settle in. She looked at him—his stupid grin, his messy hair, his absolute lack of any chill—and suddenly it all clicked. This wasn’t some weird joke or prank. Max actually meant every word.

"Okay," she said slowly, still processing. "But I reserve the right to make fun of you for the rest of our lives."

Max grinned, scooting closer. “Deal. But you should know, I’m not backing down. Now that I’ve made my move, I’m all in.”

“God, you’re so dramatic,” Y/N muttered, but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Well, you kinda like me that way,” he teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” she rolled her eyes. But deep down, she knew he was right.

Before she could say anything else, Max leaned down, his lips brushing hers in the softest, most unexpected kiss. It wasn’t the kind of kiss that swept her off her feet or made fireworks explode, but it was perfect. It was exactly what she didn’t know she needed.

When he pulled back, he was still smiling, his hand lingering on her cheek. "Told you we’ve always had a thing."

Y/N was too flustered to argue, her mind still reeling from everything that had just happened. "Okay," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. "But don’t think this changes anything. I’m still gonna kick your ass at karting ."

Max chuckled, pulling her into his arms. "I wouldn’t expect anything less."

They kissed again, and this time it was longer, more intense. Y/N felt herself melting into Max’s arms, his hands gently resting on her waist as he pulled her closer. She could feel the warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart under her fingertips as her hands slid up to his chest. His lips were soft but insistent, and there was a tenderness in the way he kissed her, as if he’d been waiting for this moment far longer than she had imagined.

Her hands slipped up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and Max responded instantly, deepening the kiss in a way that made her head spin. For a few blissful seconds, all the banter, the teasing, and the chaos of their lives disappeared, leaving only the two of them and the unspoken tension that had always been there, simmering beneath the surface.

When they finally pulled apart, slightly breathless, Y/N looked up at him, trying to steady her pounding heart. Max's lips were still curved into a small, satisfied smile, and his thumb absentmindedly traced the side of her hip.

“You know,” she started, trying to regain her composure, “if you’re going to stay, I could, uh, make some space on the couch.”

Max raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning in full force. “You want me to spend the night?”

Her face heated instantly, but she refused to let him see her squirm. “Don’t get too excited, Verstappen.” She poked him in the chest, narrowing her eyes playfully. “No funny business. It’s gonna take a hell of a lot more than a last-minute confession for me to invite you to my bed.”

Max chuckled, his laugh low and sending a ripple of warmth down her spine. He leaned in, his voice dropping to that maddening, teasing tone she was starting to realize she might actually like. “Oh, I wasn’t planning on funny business, Y/N.” His lips brushed her ear, making her shiver slightly. “I’m gonna wine and dine you, take my time. By the time I’m done, you’ll be begging me to come to bed.”

Y/N’s eyes widened at his words, and she smacked his arm, trying to play it cool, though her heart was practically doing somersaults. “Begging?” she repeated, a disbelieving laugh escaping her. “You’ve officially lost your mind.”

Max, completely unbothered, grinned like the cat who caught the canary. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“God, I’m going to regret this,” Y/N muttered, though a smile tugged at her lips.

“Only if I don’t get the chance to prove you wrong,” Max shot back smoothly, his arm casually wrapping around her waist as if they’d done this a hundred times before.

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through her. “Fine. You get the couch. And maybe—maybe—we’ll see about that whole wining and dining thing later.”

Max leaned back, stretching out on the couch with that same cocky grin. “Challenge accepted.”

Text Message between Y/N and Lando:

y/n: LANDO I’M GONNA DIE. y/n: LIKE ACTUAL DEATH. COME TO MY APARTMENT NOW.

lando: huh??? lando: it’s 8am, woman chill lando: also why is this my problem

y/n: CHARLES IS HERE y/n: HE SHOWED UP AT 7AM AND HASN’T SHUT UP FOR AN HOUR y/n: He’s on a WHOLE monologue about "family honor" y/n: I AM GOING TO JUMP OUT THE WINDOW IF YOU DON’T HELP ME

lando: and again lando: why… is this my problem? 💀

y/n: BECAUSE MAX IS HIDING IN MY CLOSET, LANDO y/n: IF CHARLES FINDS HIM HERE, I’M GONNA NEED TO WRITE A EULOGY y/n: HELP

lando: … lando: hold up HOLD UP MAX IS WHERE NOW???

y/n: CLOSET. MAX IS IN THE CLOSET. y/n: LIKE. LITERALLY HIDING IN MY CLOSET RIGHT NOW BECAUSE CHARLES IS RANTING ABOUT THE ELEVATOR PICTURE

y/n: AND IF CHARLES FINDS HIM HERE HE’LL LITERALLY COMMIT MURDER!!!

y/n: HURRY UP AND GET HERE I NEED A DISTRACTION y/n: HE’S GOING TO KILL US BOTH AND THEN DRAG OUR BODIES THROUGH THE STREETS OF MONACO

lando: LMFAOOO NOT MAX HIDING IN THE CLOSET LIKE HE’S IN A TEEN ROMCOM 💀 lando:  YOU AND MAX?? 

lando: Wait so like. Did you two… y’know? 👀

y/n: NO NO NO IT’S NOT LIKE THAT, I SWEAR. y/n: WE DID NOT HOOK UP. NOTHING HAPPENED. y/n: but if charles finds him he’s not gonna believe that, you KNOW how dramatic he is

lando: Then why’s he in your closet, huh?

lando: You’re telling me you two were just doing nothing at 7am, and now he’s hiding from your overprotective brother??

lando: This is sus af 💀

y/n: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD NOTHING HAPPENED. y/n: He came over to… uh… talk? y/n: BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT!! HURRY THE HELL UP BEFORE CHARLES GOES FULL "BIG BROTHER PROTECTOR MODE" AND THINKS THE WORST

lando: Soooo Max just "talks" now? Sure, sure. Just casually talking at 7am at your apartment. lando: I bet he was gonna give you a "lecture" of his own, wasn’t he? 😉

y/n: I’M GOING TO BLOCK YOU IF YOU DON’T STOP.

y/n: HURRY UP, LANDO.

lando: yeah your brother’s gonna yeet Max into the Mediterranean Sea 💀 lando: this is absolutely gold lando: I’m grabbing popcorn, one sec

y/n: STOP JOKING I’M SERIOUS LANDO y/n: CHARLES IS GOING ON ABOUT “RESPECT” AND “TRADITION” LIKE WE’RE IN A DAMN PERIOD DRAMA y/n: HURRY UP AND GET HIM OUT OF HERE. CHA IS LITERALLY OUT HERE RAMBLING ABOUT "RESPECTING FAMILY HONOR."

lando: Fiiiine, I’m getting out of bed. lando: But seriously, Max? Who would have guessed? That’s hilarious. You could’ve picked a better hiding spot tho 💀

y/n: YOU THINK I HAD TIME TO COORDINATE A BETTER PLAN WHEN CHARLES SHOWED UP OUT OF NOWHERE???

lando: You could’ve gone with like… under the bed? Maybe pretend he’s a delivery guy? 😂 lando: Closet’s too obvious, mate. Rookie mistake.

y/n: OKAY, SPYMASTER LANDO, HOW ABOUT YOU FOCUS ON GETTING HERE AND NOT ON MY HIDING STRATEGIES?

lando: wait sooooo lando: MAX REALLY STAYED OVER?? 👀 lando: I’M TELLING YOU, I KNEW THERE WAS SOMETHING BETWEEN YOU TWO. YOU DON’T HIDE IN CLOSETS FOR JUST ANYONE, SIS

y/n: WE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING LANDO. I SWEAR TO GOD. y/n: BUT IF YOU DON’T GET HERE, CHARLES IS GONNA ASSUME THE WORST AND START DIGGING A GRAVE

lando: fine fine I’m coming 💀 lando: this is too good tho, I’m never letting you live this down lando: if Charles finds Max it’s gonna be like “sooo, Max, wanna explain why you’re hiding in my sister’s closet like a serial killer?”

y/n: LANDO. I WILL BLOCK YOU. y/n: JUST GET HERE NOW, BEFORE I HAVE TO FAKE MY OWN DEATH TO ESCAPE THIS SITUATION

lando: can’t wait to see you try to explain why Max is suddenly living in your closet 😭😭 lando: tell Charles Max is helping you with a home renovation or some shit 💀 lando: I’ll be there soon to save your ass

y/n: IF YOU DON’T HURRY, IT’LL BE MY FUNERAL YOU’RE COMING TO. y/n: I’M NOT KIDDING, LANDO. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

lando: Yeah yeah I’m on it.

lando: But if Max survives this, I wanna be best man at the wedding 🥂

lando created a group

lando added Y/N, max, daniel, george and alex to the group

lando has changed the name of the group to “Drive to Survive: Closet Edition”

lando: EMERGENCY GROUP CHAT. STOP EVERYTHING. 🚨

george: Bro, it’s like 9AM. What now??

alex: Bro, what is it this time?? Did you lose your keys again? 💀

daniel:  Lando, I swear to God, if this is about you locking yourself out of your car again, I’m leaving the group chat.

lando: NO. BIGGER. MUCH BIGGER. lando: I had to save Max’s life this morning. 😳

max: lando, if you even—

lando: MAX WAS HIDING IN Y/N’S CLOSET THIS MORNING.

y/n: LANDO, I SWEAR TO GOD—

george: HOLD ON. Max was hiding in what now?? george: MAX. HIDING. IN Y/N’S CLOSET?! 💀

alex: WAIT WAIT WAIT. MAX?! IN HER CLOSET?? alex: Sounds like an F1 driver version of "Narnia." 🦁 alex: But instead of a lion, you found… Max?

daniel: Wait, hold on. HOLD UP.

daniel: Max was hiding? In Y/N’s closet?

daniel: Were you two… busy? 👀

daniel: This is starting to sound like the setup to a very different kind of movie, if you know what I mean… 

lando: RIGHT?! Closet boy Max out here sneaking around at 7AM.

y/n: NOTHING HAPPENED. y/n: CHARLES SHOWED UP OUT OF NOWHERE AND MAX HAD TO HIDE OR HE’D BE DEAD.

lando: She’s underselling it. Charles was out here talking about "honor" like we were back in medieval times.

max: she’s not wrong, charles had murder in his eyes talking about Y/N’s hypothetical boyfriend

george: So, you’re telling me Max was hiding in Y/N’s closet because big bro Charles was about to lose his mind? george: LMAO Max, mate, you were this close to becoming roadkill at the next race.

george: This is gold. Max, you hiding like a teenage boy sneaking out of a girl’s room?! How much were you sweating?

max: look, it was either the closet or death by leclerc

alex: Soooo... you were hiding because…? 👀

alex: If Charles finds out, he’s definitely running Max off the track next race. alex: Or worse, he’ll crash right into him. 💀

daniel: Run him off the track? Charles would straight-up crash into Max next race, no questions asked. 💀

george: Mate, can you imagine? Lap 20: "Verstappen crashes after mysterious contact with Leclerc." 🤔

george: "Sources say Charles Leclerc was last seen revving his engine and screaming about his sister’s honor."

daniel: Bro, I can already see the headlines: "Verstappen DNF—Cause: Leclerc Rage." daniel: Max would be like, "I’m innocent!" while Charles just revs the engine like, "Try me bitch."

lando: Charles would be all smiles in the press conference like, "It was an unfortunate incident…" lando: Meanwhile, Max’s car would still be smoldering in the background.

max: ngl, he’d probably reverse just to make sure it’s done right 😬

alex: "Accident," sure, Charles. I’m sure brake checking Max into the wall was totally accidental.

daniel: Sooo… why were you hiding, Max? 👀 daniel: Closet redecoration? Or were you two getting cozy? 😏

lando: Oh, come on, there’s no hiding in closets unless something was happening. Let’s be real here. 👀

max: look, i was just… you know… max: avoiding death by overprotective brothers. that’s all.

george: Sure, Max. Just avoiding "death"… by hiding in her closet. Sounds innocent. Totally.

alex: Did you fold her clothes while you were in there, or just admire the view? 😂

daniel: Oh, we’re calling it "admiring the view" now, huh?

max: you guys have dirty minds, jesus

lando: Bro, you were literally in her closet. This is peak suspicious behavior.

y/n: NOTHING HAPPENED. y/n: STOP MAKING THIS WEIRD. 🙃

lando: Y/N, babe, you don’t just shove someone in your closet for no reason. There’s something here.

daniel: Yeah, like… what were you two really doing before Charles showed up? 👀 daniel: C’mon, no one hides someone unless they’re in the middle of… something.

y/n: I swear to god, if one more person suggests anything—

max: maybe i was just there to give her fashion advice 🤷‍♂️

george: OH, so that’s what they’re calling it now? "Fashion advice." Sounds steamy.

daniel: So what’d you suggest, Max? "Less clothes"? 😏

y/n: I’M LITERALLY GOING TO MUTE THIS CHAT. NOTHING HAPPENED.

lando: Uh-huh. Sure. lando: You don’t just casually invite Max over to give you "advice" in the early hours of the morning unless something’s going on. Just saying. 😉

daniel: I mean, I’d hide Max too if he showed up like that… 👀

alex: "Like that"? Sounds like Max was already halfway to being undressed. 💀

y/n: YOU GUYS ARE THE WORST.

max: you get used to it after a while

lando: Okay, okay, jokes aside… are you two, like, officially a thing now?

max: yeah, y/n and i… we’re seeing where this goes. officially.

george: OMG, IT'S HAPPENING. MAX AND Y/N ARE OFFICIALLY A THING. 🎉

lando: SOUND THE ALARMS, EVERYONE. lando: We’ve got ourselves a new grid couple. 👀

daniel: Ahhh, the "closet inchident" seals the deal. Love it. You Leclerc’s sure do love your Inchidents

alex: Soooo… have you told Charles yet? Or do we get to keep this secret and watch the chaos unfold?

y/n: ABSOLUTELY NOT. NONE OF YOU SAY A WORD. y/n: Do you WANT Max to end up in a wall at Monza?!

george: Max already looks like he’s preparing his will. 😂

max: pretty sure charles will crash into me on lap 1 if he finds out too early

daniel: I mean, Charles is gonna "accidentally" forget how to brake if he finds out Max’s been sneaking around his sister. 💀

lando: Yeah, next race? You’re gonna see Charles giving Max the death stare before they even get to Turn 1.

max: I’ll be lucky if I don’t get run off the track before lap 10

alex: Charles be like, "Oh sorry, did I cut across your line? Total accident, mate."

george: Imagine Arthur joining in, double-teaming Max on the straights. 💀

alex: "Sorry mate, but family’s family."

daniel: Max, if Charles finds out you were in her closet, he’s coming for you both on and off the track. No question.

lando: I can see it now—Max and Y/N in the paddock: "Charles, listen, it’s not what it looks like!" Meanwhile, Charles is just revving the engine, ready to take you out. 😂

max: and here i thought the danger was over when i left her apartment

alex: Bro, the danger just began. Charles is about to add "track rage" to his skillset.

daniel: "Oh, Max? Never heard of him. My car just had a mind of its own today." daniel: RIP Verstappen 1997-2024 💀

lando: You’ll go down as a legend, Max. "The man who was brave enough to date a Leclerc and live to tell the tale."

max: that’s if i make it past monza

y/n: YOU’RE ALL DRAMATIC.

george: Dramatic? Us? No way. george: I’m just saying, you better have a solid excuse ready when Charles finds out.

y/n: We’ll tell him eventually. Just… not now. y/n: And until then, if any of you open your big mouths, Max’s blood is on your hands.

daniel: So, what’s the plan? Keep hiding Max in your closet until you tell Charles? 💀

y/n: technically, yes.

y/n: But until then, NONE OF YOU SAY A WORD. LET ME HANDLE THIS.

lando: I mean… if I accidentally let it slip, is that on me or on the fact that Max was literally hiding in a CLOSET? 🤔

max: thanks lando, really appreciate it

daniel: Don’t worry, Max, we’ll make sure your funeral’s nice. Real classy. 💐

alex: I’ll bring flowers. Something dramatic, like roses. 🌹

george has changed the name of the group to “Max's Funeral Planning Committee"

george: Should we do slow-mo highlights of Max’s best overtakes at his funeral? Maybe some sad violin music?

lando: I’m picturing Max’s ghost standing next to Charles, watching the replays like, "Really? This is how I go out?" 💀

y/n: YOU’RE ALL INSANE. STOP JOKING ABOUT THIS.

george: We’ll make sure it’s an open casket. But, you know, open… after Charles crashes into it.

y/n: I’M BLOCKING ALL OF YOU.

lando: Can’t imagine how you'd even explain Max’s sudden appearance in your wardrobe to Charles. "He’s just helping with interior design, bro!" 😂

max: okay okay, enough. max: but for real, don’t tell charles anything yet.

daniel: Sure, we’ll keep the secret. For now. But we want front-row seats when you break the news.

y/n: Let me handle it before anyone here decides to run their big mouth.

lando: Big mouth? Me? Never. 😉

george: You know, this whole "keeping it secret" thing feels very Romeo and Juliet.

lando: Yeah but without the poison, please.

daniel: More like, Romeo hiding in Juliet’s closet while her brother lectures her for an hour. 😂

alex: "Romeo, why are you still in that closet?" alex: "Shhh, Charles will kill me."

max: i hate you all

alex: Don’t worry, Max. We’ll be at the next race, just in case Charles accidentally loses his brakes. 😂

y/n: You’re all the worst. 🙄

lando: Max, you better not be hiding in anyone else’s closet anytime soon. lando: Or else this group chat’s gonna have to upgrade to "Max’s Closet Chronicles: The Sequel."

y/n: Don’t give him ideas.

george: Max: Professional F1 Driver by day, Closet Houdini by night. 😭

max: i hate you all

y/n: Welcome to the club.

daniel: This is gonna be legendary.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[mrsfancyferrari]

Our Doggie

Summary: 4 moments of you, the proud mom and Lando Norris, the protective dad of Chase Norris, the dog.

Song: Miguel - Sure Thing

Part 1 Author’s note: Happy birthday to my favourite boy! Please like, reblog and share this! <3

Word count: 5.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

The sun hung high over the bustling Formula 1 paddock, casting a warm glow against the vibrant team banners fluttering in the light breeze.

The aroma of fresh coffee and fuel mixed in the air, tickling your senses as you navigated through the crowd, Chase nestled contentedly in your arms.

Lando walked closely beside you, his signature grin plastered on his face, a look of particular joy you loved to see.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked, glancing down at Chase, who was blissfully oblivious to the world around him, his tiny paws resting lightly against your chest.

“Absolutely!” you replied, adjusting the fluffy cream-colored fur of your little dog. “I mean, if the internet exploded over how cute he is, I can't wait to show him off in person again,”

Lando chuckled, his laughter filling your heart with warmth. “I still can’t believe how many fans have taken an interest in Chase. I mean, he’s adorable, but it’s not like he’s driving a car,”

You shared an amused glance. “True, but I think we both know he steals the show everywhere we take him. With those big eyes? He’s irresistible.”

As you made your way towards the McLaren hospitality area, the familiar sight of Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc caught your eye.

To your surprise, both drivers were squatting beside their own dogs—Lewis with Roscoe, a distinguished-looking bulldog, and Charles with Leo, a spirited miniature longhaired dachshund. It was a rare sight to catch them both not in race mode, but at play.

“Hey, you two!” you called out, waving your free hand. “Look who we've brought along!”

“Oh wow, it’s Chase!” Lewis exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he stood up with Roscoe. The bulldog ambled over with a curious snort, eyes fixated on Chase.

“Is that our little Instagram star?” Charles teased, his accent thick with amusement as he crouched down, already reaching out towards Chase. “I’ve seen more of him than myself lately.”

“Guilty as charged!” you laughed, beaming with pride. “And this little guy is ready for his paddock debut for real.”

Lando stretched out his arm and playfully nudged you. “But first,” he leaned in conspiratorially, “let's see if these two dogs can keep up with the fastest little dog in the paddock.”

You raised an eyebrow at Lando. “Fastest? You realize he’s like, what? Two pounds?”

“Let’s not underestimate Chase. He’s a champion at heart!” Lando shot back, petting Chase’s head lovingly. “Right, buddy?”

Before you could respond, Leo dashed forward, tail wagging enthusiastically, and nudged Chase’s paw.

Chase blinked up at the Dachshund, seemingly unsure at first but then quickly warming up to the new canine friend. You felt a smile spread across your face; this would be fun.

“Looks like they’re already sizing each other up,” you said to Lando, who watched proudly.

Lewis rose, laughing. “I think all we need now is a proper doggy playdate. What do you say for a few minutes?”

“Absolutely,” you affirmed. “This could be a whole new Instagram series for me.”

The three of you found a patch of soft grass a short walk from the bustling hospitality area. The sun-kissed spot gave the dogs plenty of space to romp while the energy of the paddock buzzed pleasantly in the background.

As the dogs began to play—Chase scampering after Leo, who darted with boundless energy and charm—you leaned into Lando, who slung an arm around your shoulders. “You know, I didn’t expect today to turn out like this. It’s kind of nice, isn’t it?” he murmured, his eyes glinting with affection.

“It really is,” you said softly, wanting to freeze this moment in time.

You looked over at the three furry friends, enjoying their newfound friendship, and you couldn’t help but laugh as Chase surprised everyone by catching up to Leo and tugging playfully at his tail.

“As long as they don’t dig up the paddock or cause chaos,” Lando added, chuckling.

“Who would have thought you’d become a dog dad this quickly?” you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

Lando feigned distress. “Me? It’s all your fault! My life used to involve fast cars and loud engines, and now it includes this little ball of fluff demanding cuddles.”

“Looks like you’ve traded one love for another,” you smiled, leaning in to steal a kiss.

The soft brush of his lips sent a tiny thrill through you that never seemed to fade no matter how many times you shared these moments.

You watched as Roscoe plopped down beside Chase, who was busy barking up a storm.

“Is Chase bringing out the playful side of Roscoe?” you quipped, noticing the bulldog’s effortless charm as he nudged the tiny dog with his nose.

Lewis approached with a proud grin. “I think he is. I’ve never seen Roscoe this active since… well, forever, to be honest. We might be onto something with these doggy meet-ups.”

Charles laughed, joining in their amusement. “Next season, we might need to think about forming a dog team!”

With the race weekend in full swing, you felt a sense of peace that was rarely achieved in the high-speed world that encapsulated your lives.

The dogs chased each other in wide arcs, occasionally stopping to check in with their humans, tails wagging wildly. It was a cookie-cutter version of bliss—a world away from fast cars and flashing cameras, grounded in pure, uncomplicated affection.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden hue across the paddock, you and Lando settled onto the grass, Chase nestled comfortably between you.

“Can you believe they’re all sleepier than we are?” Lando mused, watching the dog pile settle down in a heap of fur.

“I can’t. It’s like they burned off all their energy in five minutes,” you laughed.

A thought crossed your mind, and you turned to Lando, feeling slightly more serious. “What if we brought Chase to more races with us? He could be a mascot of sorts.”

“I love that idea!” Lando grinned back at you, his eyes sparkling. “I can already see the team merch: Chase-themed caps or something. It’s perfect.”

As laughter filled the air around you, you realized that amidst the chaotic world of Formula 1, filled with roaring engines and high stakes, it was these quiet moments, shared with Lando and Chase, that truly defined your happiness.

You rested your head against his shoulder, knowing deep down that no matter where this journey took you, together, you’d always find the joy in life—the little moments that felt like magic.

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

You sink back into the soft layers of your bed, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of a bedside lamp.

The world outside is alive with the gentle trill of crickets, but here, in your sanctuary, the only sounds are the steady heartbeat of Lando beside you and the slight rustle of sheets as he shifts to get more comfortable.

You take a moment to relish this perfect calm after the day’s chaos, the two of you finally alone together after putting Chase to bed in the living room.

You can’t help but look over at Lando, his messy hair fanning out on the pillow like a halo, his lips slightly parted in that relaxed way that makes your heart flutter.

He glances up at you, his hazel eyes sparkling with mischief.

“So, what should we do now that we have time?” you tease, half sitting on top of him, enjoying the playful tension in the air.

He raises an eyebrow, a grin breaking across his face as he fights to suppress a chuckle.

“Hmm, choices, choices,” he says, pretending to ponder deeply. “Should we play a game? Or maybe I could serenade you with my terrible singing?”

His voice dips into a mock dramatic tone that sends a wave of laughter bubbling up your throat.

“Terrible singing sounds perfect,” you reply, grinning as you mockingly glare at him. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to hear your off-key renditions of popular songs?”

“Hey, at least I’m better than the last guy who tried,” he shoots back, pulling you closer to him. “But, fine. You might be the perfect audience for my next hit single then.”

As he leans in, you stroke your fingers through his hair, enjoying the moment. It’s easy to forget about everything else with him here.

The chaos of your day fades, leaving only the warmth of his body and the sparkle of his laughter.

You leaned down closer to brush your lips against his. The kiss tasted like sweetness and laughter—soft and familiar. Just as you were about to pull back, Lando deepened the kiss, his free hand finding its way to your waist.

You melted against him, feeling the electricity coursing through your entire body. “If we keep this up, you might end up forgetting your song.” you murmured against his lips, smiling playfully.

But just as you find a comfortable rhythm, the door creaks open slowly, and you turn your head just in time to see Chase, your little dog, making his grand re-entry.

His tiny body clambers up the stairs with determination, climbing onto the bed with gusto. His tail wags furiously as he reaches you, giving you both a salute of excitement and wanting attention.

Lando bursts out laughing, his beautiful joy filling the room.

“Look who decided to join! Chase! You’ve missed all the fun!” Lando exclaims, rolling onto his back and reaching out for the playful pup.

“Seriously? I thought we put him to bed!” you giggle, scratching Chase behind his ears as he wriggles happily between you and Lando.

“He’s a tiny troublemaker,” Lando laughs, showering the little dog with love as he lifts him into the air. “Just like his human.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “I’m not a troublemaker!” you retort dramatically.

Chase, ever the attention-seeker, wiggles in Lando’s hands, finally settling on your lap, looking up at you with big, innocent eyes. You can’t help but melt.

“Okay, but really, what are we going to do?” you ask again, this time scratching behind the little dog’s ears while seeking Lando’s gaze.

“How about this: let’s have a little movie night right here?” Lando suggests, nodding towards the television tucked in the corner of the room. “But we’ll need snacks, and I have a secret stash of popcorn hidden under the bed.”

You raise an eyebrow, feigning skepticism. “A secret stash? Why wouldn’t you share this with me sooner?”

“It’s a special treasure reserved for awesome moments,” Lando says with a wink, and you can’t resist the charming way he always manages to make the mundane feel special.

“Alright, you win. Movie night it is!” you chirp. “But you better make that popcorn perfect, or…”

“Or what? I’ll have to serenade you?” he interjects with wink, causing a giggle to erupt from you both.

“You’d better run and get it, then!” you tease as you flail your arms dramatically, punctuating your point.

You watch as Lando slides off the bed, throwing on a T-shirt, not even bothering to get fully dressed before darting to the kitchen.

While he’s gone, you indulge Chase with a few more scratches and gentle rubs, finding solace in the way the small dog relaxes into your touch.

You love this moment, the cozy intimacy, and the way it feels like your little family is all together in this sanctuary of warmth.

Lando returns with a bowl of popcorn, grinning ear to ear like he’s just won the championship. “Tada! The prize for best boyfriend,” he announces, dramatically presenting the bowl to you.

“Now that is a worthy prize!” you laugh, taking a handful while he settles next to you, pulling both you and Chase into his arms.

You press play on the remote, the screen illuminating the dim room with the warm colors of the movie. As the opening credits roll, you lean back against Lando, enjoying his presence.

Chase shifts between you two, finding a cozy spot against your legs.

For a moment, the world outside feels far away, and it’s just the three of you. The movie is just background noise as you sink into each other’s company, laughing together, whispering jokes, and stealing kisses in between popcorn munching.

“This is perfect,” you whisper after a particularly funny scene, and Lando turns to look at you, his expression softening.

“It really is. Just us, our little family,” he replies, his voice low as he brushes a stray hair behind your ear. He shifts slightly, bringing you even closer, his warmth wrapping around you like a cozy blanket.

“And somehow, with Chase here, it’s even better,” you add playfully, watching as Chase squirms to get more comfortable.

“True,” Lando agrees, laughing softly. “He’s the best addition we could’ve asked for.”

The night passes in a blur of laughter, cuddles, and shared popcorn, making memories that cling to you like the warmth of Lando's embrace.

As the credits roll on the final movie, you find yourself feeling grateful for this moment, for the peaceful rhythm of his heartbeat next to yours, and the constant presence of Chase, who has curled up in a contented ball at your feet.

“Can we do this again tomorrow?” you ask playfully.

“Absolutely,” Lando says with a smile, kissing your forehead before stretching luxuriously. “Every day if that’s what you want.”

With that, you settle deeper into his embrace, feeling the warmth of love wrap around you, content in the knowledge that these quiet nights are the foundation of a happiness you hope will last a lifetime.

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

You quietly opened the front door, careful not to make a sound that might wake your boyfriend, Lando, or your dog, Chase.

The remnants of a night filled with laughter and dancing still tingled in your veins, igniting a rush of warmth as you stepped inside the dimly lit apartment.

Your senses were slightly dulled, having indulged a little too freely in celebratory shots and frosty cocktails, but the sight of your sanctuary—a place infused with memories of lazy afternoons and cozy movie nights—brought a smile to your slightly wobbly lips.

You tiptoed through the narrow hall, the familiar scent of sandalwood and vanilla wafting through the air, welcoming you home. As you reached the bedroom door, you pushed it open ever so gently and peeked inside.

A warm glow from the bedside lamp illuminated the room just enough for you to catch the tender scene: Lando, with his tousled hair sprawled across the pillow, and Chase, curled up against him, both seemingly serene and lost in a peaceful slumber.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at the endearing sight.

Lando had always been a snuggly sleeper, and when paired with Chase—who had an affinity for cuddling—it was a charming combination that made your heart swell with affection.

You took a moment to soak in the warmth of the image before deciding to give yourself a refreshing moment, slipping out of your party attire and into the bathroom for a quick shower.

Once the steamy spray enveloped you, you let the impulses of the night wash away. The coolness of the bathroom contrasted with the warmth of the shower, and as the hot water cascaded over you, it washed away the heaviness of the night.

You hummed softly to yourself, chasing away the fleeting thoughts of wild dance moves and flirty conversations, focusing instead on the love waiting for you out there.

After a few minutes, you emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a soft towel, the cool air of the bedroom brushing against your damp skin.

You glanced toward the bed and saw Chase stirring. He stretched slightly before lifting his head, his white fur glistening in the low light.

It was moments like these that made you realise just how precious this little family was to you.

And then, without warning, Chase unfurled himself from his cozy position and sprang from Lando's grip like a spring on a watch, bounding toward you with all the enthusiasm and sincerity only a dog could possess.

"Chase! Hey buddy!" you exclaimed, instinctively kneeling down and opening your arms wide.

He galloped into your embrace, nuzzling his nose against you as you laughed softly, your heart swelling with affection.

“I missed you!” you told him, scratching behind his ears, his tail wagging furiously. The rush of love you felt was intoxicating, and for a moment, all thoughts of your night out melted away into nothingness.

As you reveled in the sweet reunion with Chase, Lando stirred, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The moment he caught sight of you kneeling on the floor with Chase beside you, a sleepy grin broke out on his face.

“Looks like someone was waiting for you,” he mumbled, his voice low and gravelly from sleep.

You smiled up at him, a little bashful. “I was just trying to sneak in and not wake you two,” you replied, feeling a subtle warmth creep over your cheeks. “But I guess Chase had other plans!”

“Yeah, he always does,” Lando chuckled, stretching and propping himself up on one elbow. “You’re home later than I expected. Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, it was great! Just some dancing and drinks with the gang. But honestly, I couldn’t stop thinking about you guys. I was so excited to come home.” You paused, your heart racing a little as you spoke the words.

Deep inside, you knew there was something incredibly comforting about being home—not just in the apartment, but in the company of Lando and Chase.

Lando’s expression softened, and he sat up fully, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m glad. I was worried you might not come back for a while,” he teased, winking playfully. “I wasn’t sure how long I could have kept Chase entertained!”

You giggled, rising to your feet, both Chase and Lando now fully awake and alert.

“I can’t believe how snuggly you both look together. I wish I had a camera—cute overload!” Your heart fluttered at the idea that even in sleep, your little family brought so much joy.

“Speaking of,” Lando began, scooting over on the bed and gesturing for you to join him. “Come sit with us.”

You quickly hopped onto the bed, crawling between the sheets and cuddling up against Lando's warm side, with Chase settling in at your feet.

Lando wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “You smell like fun,” he said, a teasing smile gracing his lips.

“Is that a compliment?” you retorted, nudging his shoulder playfully.

“Absolutely. Fun looks good on you.” Lando leaned down and pressed a soft kiss atop your head, sending a ripple of warmth through you.

“But I have to admit, I’m glad you’re home. It’s always better when we’re together.”

You nestled against him, resting your head on his chest as you felt the beat of his heart. “I feel the same way. It’s like I float through the night, but my anchor is always back here with you and Chase.”

Chase, perhaps sensing the tender moment between you, looked up with his big brown eyes and tilted his head, as though he were in on the secret.

You couldn’t resist giving him a scratch behind the ears, which only elicited a contented sigh from him.

"Aren't you the cutest little anchor?" you whispered playfully.

“That you are, buddy,” Lando said, reaching down to ruffle Chase’s fur. The dog responded with a delighted huff, wriggling his body in appreciation.

The three of you were a perfect triangle of comfort, an unwavering circle of love in a bustling world. Evenings like this were rare and precious—moments you cherished.

“So, what did you get up to today?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence. Your voice was curious, genuine interest lighting up your eyes that always captivated him.

Lando chuckled, turning to face you. “Oh, you know, the usual—work, a hundred walks and taking Chase to pee outside. I think he might be getting it.”

Chase, as if on cue, laid his head on Lando’s knee, letting out a sigh of contentment.

“Well, at least someone is satisfied with my work today,” Lando said, scritching Chase behind the ears, causing the dog to squint in pleasure.

“You’ve always had that effect on him,” you said, placing your hand over Lando’s for a brief moment, a simple gesture that spoke louder than words.

“I think he might like me more than you,” Lando teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Oh really? Is that so? Right in front of me, too? Chase!” You turned to the dog dramatically. “How could you betray your own best friend like this?”

Chase merely wagged his tail, blissfully unaware of the banter as if to say, “Sorry, not sorry,” before burying his face deeper into Lando’s lap.

Lando laughed. “I guess I just have the magic touch. It must be all those treats I give him.”

“Magic touch or bribes? You’re not fooling anyone, Lando.” You shook your head, unable to keep a straight face.

After a moment, the mood shifted a little. “We should go to sleep now, we’re meeting my parents tomorrow, remember?” you said, glancing at the clock on the wall.

It was getting late, and the thought of the impending family gathering made your stomach flutter with nerves.

Lando nodded, but there was a hint of hesitation in his voice. “I know. I just... I want everything to go well. What if they don’t like me?”

“They’ll love you,” you assured him, rubbing your thumb along the back of his hand soothingly. “Just be yourself. You know how to charm a crowd, especially with your goofy jokes.”

“Right, my jokes,” he said, chuckling and shaking his head. “I think I’ll save the ‘dad jokes’ for later. Maybe I should just stick to polite conversation.”

A soft laugh escaped you. “Polite conversation could go far, or it could bore them to tears. They’re going to want to see the real you—silly, charming, and maybe a little awkward.”

“Awkward? Me? Never.” Lando feigned shock, placing a hand on his chest dramatically. “I’m the epitome of cool.”

“Sure you are.” You smiled knowingly. “But I promise you, they will appreciate your quirks more than you think. They just want to get to know the guy their daughter is dating.”

Lando sat up a little straighter, his posture shifting into something more serious. “But what if they have questions? What if they think I’m not good enough for you?”

“Lando, stop worrying.” You leaned in closer, taking both of his hands in yours. “They’re not expecting anyone perfect, just someone who makes me happy. And spoiler alert: you do.”

He smiled, the tension crumbling between you like a sandcastle washed away by the tide. “Thank you. I guess I just want to make a good impression on them. You mean a lot to me.”

“And you mean a lot to me,” you replied softly. “The sooner you realize that, the easier this will be.”

With a deep breath, he nodded, clearly trying to shake off his nerves. “Okay then. What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“Breakfast at the diner down the road, then to their house for coffee. We’ll take it easy,” you said, pulling your legs up onto Lando's to move closer, snuggling deeper against him.

“Sounds good—unless they try to feed us the mystery casserole,” Lando joked. “Then we might have a problem.”

You laughed. “I can’t promise they’ll have their best dish on that day, but I’ll bring backup snacks, just in case.”

“As long as you’re by my side, I can handle anything.” He leaned closer, his forehead resting against yours.

The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, a shared moment that felt like a promise to tackle whatever came your way.

Chase stirred slightly and stretched, yawning wide as if sensing the change in atmosphere before settling back into a comfortable position.

“I think he approves of the plan,” you whispered, glancing down at the sleepy dog, who seemed perfectly content in his little world.

Lando smiled, squeezing your hands gently. “I’m ready, then. Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be great.”

“Definitely,” you said, feeling the drowsiness creeping in. Both of you started to settle in as the soft evening light faded into nighttime.

As you both surrendered to sleep, you felt grateful for this little family you had created together, intertwined through laughter, love, and even the occasional awkward moment.

Tomorrow would come with its challenges, but with Lando by your side, you knew it would all be worthwhile. . . .

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

You stood in the kitchen, a whirlwind of activity, as the smell of vanilla cake filled the air.

The clock ticked loudly in the background, each tick a reminder of the approaching moment when you would yell, “Surprise!” at your boyfriend Lando. Today's special occasion wasn't just any day; it was his birthday, a day you had been secretly planning for weeks.

You glanced towards the living room where you had set up decorations—streamers trailing down from the ceiling, colorful balloons bobbing in a corner, and a plethora of gifts waiting to be opened.

Family, friends, and their dogs had all pitched in. You couldn't wait to see Lando's face when he walked through the door; the surprise was your gift to him.

Chase, your fluffy golden retriever, sat obediently at your feet, his big brown eyes reflecting your excitement.

Normally, Chase was skittish around crowds, but you had coaxed him into staying close to you tonight.

“Just a little longer, buddy,” you whispered, reaching down to scratch behind his ears. “You’ll love seeing Daddy happy.”

The door swung open, and in walked Lando, his casual charm lighting up the room. You felt your heart flutter as you quickly gestured for everyone to hide.

The guests stilled their chatter, and you barely contained your excitement.

“Lando! You’re home!” you shouted, breaking the silence as he stepped inside, catching him off-guard. His brows furrowed in confusion before slowly transforming into realization.

“What is all this?” Lando’s voice was a mix of surprise and delight as his eyes roamed over the decorations, resting finally on the cake adorned with candles burning bright.

“Happy birthday, Lando!” you and the rest of the guests cheered, stepping out of your hiding spots with wide smiles.

Lando's face lit up brighter than the candles on the cake. “Wow, you did all this for me?” he asked, his voice warm. You could see the corners of his mouth twitch with disbelief.

“Of course! You didn’t think I’d let your birthday slip by without a party, did you?” you teased, walking over to him. He wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, lifting you slightly off the ground.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured into your hair, warmth radiating from his chest. You could almost forget the anxiety that had plagued you in the days leading up to this; seeing him smile made it all worth it.

After he greeted everyone, the cake was brought out, and the group gathered around him to sing “Happy Birthday.” You led the cacophony with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Lando chuckled, his face a perfect blend of bashfulness and joy as he blew out the candles, the wish dancing on his lips as he stole a fast glance at you.

As the cake was sliced and laughter filled the air, Chase had managed to find a cozy spot on your lap, grateful for the peace among the noise.

In fact, he looked slightly puzzled by the whole gathering of unfamiliar spirits surrounding him, opting to bury his head against you as if it might provide an invisibility cloak.

“Isn’t he the cutest?” a friend commented, pointing at Chase who had planted himself firmly into your lap.

You stroked his soft fur, providing him with reassuring pets. “I think he’s scared of us,” they added.

“He’s just a bit shy,” you replied, glancing down at Chase, who only lifted his head slightly with a soft whimper. “But he’ll warm up soon.”

Just as you were talking, Chase began to wriggle around unexpectedly, clearly seeking something—or someone. You could feel his eagerness in the way he shifted, nudging you.

“What is it, buddy?” you asked, slowly allowing him to move from your lap.

As if freed from a loose leash, Chase bounded towards Lando, catching him off-guard. His tail wagged with enthusiasm, sending a nearby glass teetering toward the edge of the table.

Lando’s face broke into a joyful grin at the sight of his dog coming alive, and it made your heart swell.

“Hey, Chase! You’re finally here!” he said, kneeling down as Chase found his place in Lando's arms.

The transformation from the scared pup to the ecstatic dog was instantaneous, and you couldn’t help but smile as Chase began licking Lando’s face animatedly, as if to say, “Happy birthday, Dad!”

“This is the best birthday gift,” Lando laughed, glancing back at you with his eyes sparkling with love. “Thanks for bringing here! Look at him! He’s so happy!”

You watched as Chase’s little tongue continued to bathe Lando’s face with affectionate licks, trying to express his own birthday wish. “Better than any present I could give you,” you said softly, crossing your arms while leaning back against the counter.

“You’re right about that,” Lando replied, grinning despite the slobber.

“And you know you’re the best present I could ever ask for.” His gaze lingered on you, the warmth of his affection palpable in the room.

As the evening wore on, laughter and chatter filled the house, enveloping everyone in a cocoon of joy.

You walked back to find more snacks for your guests, the melodies of chatter and occasional barks from Chase as he played tug-of-war in the background creating a cheerful, lively atmosphere.

When you returned with a tray of snacks, Lando spotted you and called, “You know, I keep expecting another surprise—like you revealing a hidden talent or something.”

“Oh, please! Not all of us are as talented as you,” you laughed, rolling your eyes dramatically. “What would I even showcase?”

“Juggling? Singing? Interpretive dance?” he teased, showing his cheeky side as he approached, Chase still at his heels.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you said, leaning into him playfully.

As the night continued with games and heartfelt conversations, you couldn’t shake off the feeling of pure bliss. In the moment, with Chase happily rolling around at Lando’s feet while laughter floated through the room, the pressures of life faded into the background.

Here, surrounded by friends and love, everything felt perfect.

As you nestled up next to Lando later that evening, sharing your warm spot on the couch with Chase snuggled between you both, you realized that just like the candles on the cake, these moments were to be cherished—light against the darkness, warmth against the cold.

“Happy birthday, Lando,” you whispered, leaning closer.

“Happy birthday, indeed,” he replied, his smile contagious.

All could be perfect birthdays that lead to unforgettable memories, yet this one would stay forever etched in your heart—a night of laughter, love, and your little family: you, Lando, and Chase. . .

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

[charlotteking23]

Drunken loyalty - MV1/33

Max Verstappen x reader

Summary: Max gets drunk at a party and mistakes his girlfriend for a random girl but makes it up to you in more ways than one.

Warning: pure fluff, that's it🩷

Today Max is a 4 time world champion, something you couldn't believe till you saw his car on the final lap. You couldn't keep the tears at bay from seeing Max jump out of the car and run to his team.

You watched him hug everyone till he reached you, pulling you by the waist before you kissed him as best as you could with the helmet.

You and Max have only dated for a year, this is the first time you see him win a world champion in real life. Seeing him kiss the trophy before bringing it in the air showing everyone he had won it again.

After the interviews and the podium, you went to see Max only to find him surrounded by the Paparazzi and media.

Max saw you before opening his arms for a hug, you flung yourself in his embrace as he spun you around like one of those Disney princesses.

"I am so proud of you, Maxie," you said as you kissed him furiously cupping his cheeks as his hands found your waist.

Tonight was a night to celebrate, to party till it was 4:00 a.m. if you can handle that.

You wore a beautiful black dress, with gold jewelry, YSL high heels, and a Chanel purse gifted by Max.

As you walked in, immediately you could feel everyone's eyes on you and Max as you walked towards the VIP area. Some of the drivers were already drunk and partying.

The DJ was none other than Lando Norris alongside Carlos Sainz up at the DJ booth.

Max ordered a gin and tonic and your favorite drink before taking you toward the middle of the club, dancing with you.

The drinks and music flowed heavily upon hearing Lando invite Max to celebrate his victory onstage. You mostly hung out with Kika, Perre Gasly's girlfriend, and Alexandra, Charles Leclerc's girlfriend.

The girls and you talked, took pictures, and danced the night away. Kika, you and Alex were on the dance floor having fun.

You tried to look for Max, but couldn't see among the mass of people. You finally saw Max surrounded by the grid drinking and laughing so carefree.

"Maxie, do you want to come dance with me," You smiled at him grabbing his free hand to come dance.

But he remains stoic only looking at you before pushing your hand away from his.

"get away from me and don't touch me again", Max coldly said even though Max's voice was drowned by the loud music you could still hear him.

You were surprised he refused your touch, You tried again to reach him but he grabbed your wrist painfully squeezing it, hurting you.

"I told you to stop bothering me, I have a girlfriend!", Max shouted angrily before releasing your wrist and going towards his friends.

You almost wanted to cry but realized Max was drunk and couldn't tell who you were and mistook you for some random girl. I mean at least you know he is loyal to you even when he is drunk.

You walked away towards the girls, not really in the mood for dancing before sitting down at one of the booths sipping your drink and scrolling through your phone while listening to the girl's gossip.

You saw Max had left a text and you opened it to see him drunkenly complaining about some random girl bothering him and touching him.

amused by the fact you were the random girl and how funny he texts when he's drunk. You pretend to be angry saying you hope to not see the lady or she was in trouble.

You laughed silently upon reading the messages from him reassuring you that everything was fine and he sent the lady away embarrassed.

You could only smile upon reading the text messages before standing up to find your Max.

Looking around you spotted Max at the back of the club laughing at something Daniel had said. You rushed over before hugging Max behind his back tightly. Max had looked behind him startled but smiled only to see you behind him

"Hi pretty girl," Max said fully turning around as he hugged you back swaying you both back and forth.

"Hi Maxie," You said watching Daniel walk away before closing your eyes in contentment to be back in your lover's arms.

"I hope that girl doesn't come back and try to take you away from me", You smiled laughing at your joke.

"Don't worry pretty girl, She isn't gonna come near us," Max reassuringly said in your ear before lightly kissing your temple.

"Maxie, I have to tell you something...," You said trying to add the suspense of the secret.

"Hmm, What is it? Max said looking down at you his hands still on your waist as your hands found the back of his neck lightly playing with his hair.

"That random girl...was me," You said laughing at his shocked expression.

"Huh?...I am so sorry pretty girl did I hurt you", His face was written in guilt as he took your wrist cautiously looking for any damages.

"It's okay Maxie, you didn't know", You smiled trying to show Max you were okay.

Max gathered your arms in a hug whispering, in your ear how sorry he was lightly massaging your hip. it felt like an eternity before you and Max finally let go of each other.

You both decided it was enough partying for tonight before telling all your friends goodnight and walking out.

As you both walked, the weather seemed to have got colder. You shivered rubbing your arms trying to gain some warmth, it didn't take long for Max to notice before he wrapped his coat around your shoulders to keep you warm.

Max also insisted he takes your purse for him to carry, grabbing your hand in the process and intertwining them together.

You were surprised to see the amount of media and fans still waiting for the drivers, looking down at your phone it read 2:00 a.m.

You both walked towards the car, once in a while being stopped as Max took some pictures with his fans.

As you both finally left the club and now on the road heading home, you leaned on the rest space between you and Max your hand under your chin.

"Maxie, I kinda glad you didn't recognize me and pushed me away when you were drunk", You smiled leaning closer to him as you felt his hand on your thigh.

"Why, pretty girl,?" Max said pushing his hand further up your thigh while the other hand gripping the steering wheel.

"Because I know now you are loyal to me even when you are drunk", You giggled softly, seeing Max smile at you.

You guys finally made it to your apartment, seeing Max open the door for you like a princess. You both walk up to the apartment before entering the door.

As you closed the door, You felt Max pinned you up on the wall one hand by your head and the other resting on your waist.

You look up at Max, staring into his blue eyes as he stares back into yours. Your hands find his biceps, squeezing them a little.

"The things you do to me, pretty girl", Max groaned before he started kissing you.

You kissed back just as passionately, your hands finding his hair and tugging at it. You felt one of Max's hands tap you on the thigh indicating you to jump.

Max carried you to your shared bedroom without breaking the kiss before moving on to your neck making sure to leave a hickey.

Max shut the door before laying you gently on the bed. You watched him take off your heels, kissing both of your ankles. He stood up before kissing you again, leading to a steamy makeout session and more.

I am taking requests so pls send me any!

[motorsportbarbie13]

Forbidden - Part 3

In which you finally get what you've been begging for.

Warnings: smut. a lot of smut. nearly 4k words of smut. Minors DNI PLEEEEASE. swearing. unprotected sexy time (wrap it up loves). oral (fem receiving). p in v sex. did i mention smut?

Pairing: Max Verstappen x LeClercSister!Reader Words: 3.8k

Part 1 Part 2 Master List

BELGIUM

“Get in here.” Max growls, yanking you into his drivers room before anyone has a chance to do a double take and realize who you are. The moment the door snicks closed, he shoves you against it, pinning you there with his hips. He doesn’t give you a moment to even take a breath before his lips are on yours, tongue slipping into your mouth in a searing kiss that steals the air from your lungs.

He’s been doing that a lot lately, making you breathless from the heat of his touch. Ever since that night in Austria, every spare moment the two of you get is spent hidden away making out like a couple of teenagers. You haven’t had this much fun in years. 

“Ow, Max.” You whine against his lips when his fingertips dig what you’re sure will be bruises in the morning into the flesh at your hips. Nipping at his bottom lip, you try to warn him away from marking you like that. You can’t imagine what your brother would do if he happened to see finger shaped bruises anywhere on you, especially if they were from Max. 

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, dropping his head to the crook of your neck where he licks at the heated skin there. “I’ve been forced to watch you galavant around the paddock all fucking day with Kika and Alex in that fucking dress and haven’t been able to do a damn thing about it.”

Your hands wind up his body before locking together behind his neck, pulling him even closer to you. “Oh, so you like the new dress?” 

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t worn the daisy yellow gingham dress with him in mind because you totally had. You had picked it up in London earlier in the week while on a shopping trip with a few of the girls and had known instantly that it would torture Max. It was dangerously short with a ruffled hem and a bow that sat right in the valley of your chest, calling attention to the tanned skin there. You had certainly gotten more than a few lingering looks from several of the drivers and engineers that morning but the person you had been trying to tease had fallen straight into the trap. 

“I don’t know if I should tell you to change into sweatpants and a giant sweatshirt or kiss you in front of everyone just to get them all to quit looking at you.” He grumbles as you shiver from the scratch of his scruff brushing against your neck. 

You roll your eyes, knowing he wouldn’t do either. The two of you had come to an agreement somewhere between Austria and Hungary that whatever was happening between here was something that should be kept secret. Not because either of you were ashamed of the other. It was quite the opposite. If Max had his way, he would have you draped in Red Bull navy and red all weekend but there was a little issue you both had to contend with: Charles. 

You knew your brother was becoming suspicious, which worried you. Every time you slipped out of the garage during race weekends, or would go hours without returning his calls or texts while you were in Monaco during the week, he pestered you for an explanation. Most of the time you thought quick enough, using work as an excuse but you knew that wasn’t going to last forever. You knew that eventually, if this thing turned into something…more, that you’d have to spill the beans, which would probably result in World War Three between him and Max. But for now? Now you were just enjoying the thrill of sneaking around with Max Verstappen. 

You two still hadn’t slept together, much to your chagrin. You understood why Max had put the breaks on that aspect of your relationship but you were growing needier by the day. Most of the time you were both on the same page, wanting to make sure that this thing between you was real. In between the make out sessions that you were able to steal away for, you had movie marathons and hours long talks covering just about everything and anything the pair of you could think of. He insisted that he wasn’t with you for a quick fuck and you believed him but a girl had needs and it was getting frustrating. 

“What do I have to do to convince you to fuck me on that massage table right now?” You whisper in his ear as his tongue laps against your collar bone, a shimmer of excitement shooting down your spine at your boldness. Your drag your hands through his hair, tugging at the blond locks hard enough that his mouth is forced away from you, icy blue eyes hitting you with a stare so intense your knees nearly buckle. 

Max shakes his head, a chuckle starting deep in his chest. With him at a bit of a distance now, you finally are able to get a good look at him for the first time since he pulled you into the room like a rag doll. Qualifying was starting in less than 30 minutes so he’s already in his fireproofs, the tight white fabric clinging almost obscenely to his muscled chest. His racing suit is peeled down to his hips, the sleeves of the navy blue suit dangling down close to his feet. You’d never seen him look hotter. 

“If you think I’m going to fuck you for the first time in this tiny room where you can’t be as loud as you want when I make you come, you are insane, schatje.” 

If there was one thing you were discovering about Max, it was that he had the dirtiest mouth on him and that mouth had ruined several pairs of your skimpiest panties already, and you had barely gotten past second base with him. 

You don’t get a chance to respond though, your retort interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. 

“Max! Horner wants to see you before quali, he’s kind of on the war path.” GP calls from the other side and you’ve never been more thankful that Max’s race engineer is polite enough not to enter a room without knocking. 

Max rests his forehead against yours, frustrated at the interruption. “Be there in 5.” He groans, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “Wait here for ten minutes, then you should be good to leave. Turn left out the door and you can sneak out the back.” 

You nod, suddenly not really liking the whole clandestine sneaking around you two have been doing. Sure it was fun but a little part of you wanted to be able to go out into the paddock with him. “Good luck then. But not enough luck to out qualify Charlie.” You say with a wink, pushing aside the annoyance of what you had to hide for now. You didn’t want to think too deep into things, the vulnerability that would be required for going public with Max not something you were sure you could handle. 

With one last kiss on the forehead, Max shuffles around you, tossing a wink at you over his shoulder before closing the door behind him with a sharp click. 

************************************************

“I nearly ended up in the god damned wall three times this afternoon, you had me so distracted.” Max murmurs later that night. 

It had taken some maneuvering getting away from Charlie and Carlos that evening with the way they kept insisting that you needed to stay for just one more drink or one more story. It was almost like they suspected that you wanted to be somewhere else instead of out at dinner with them. Which was absolutely true but they couldn’t know that. Finally, you had to fake a migraine to get out of the fifth round of drinks so you were able to escape back to your hotel room. But you hadn’t gone back to your hotel room, of course. You had come straight to Max’s. 

“Maybe I should stay away from you on race weekends then.” You say cheekily, earning a sharp smack on your ass from Max as he hauls you towards his bed. 

“Absolutely not, schatje.” Max’s gaze goes feral at the suggestion. “You have no idea what you do to me. I’d be worse off if you were gone.” 

And it was the truth, which scared the shit out of Max. He was desperately trying to figure out what was going on between the two of you, trying to figure out how keep his feelings for you reigned in while simultaneously needing to spend every spare moment he has with you. He’s never been one for romantic attachments, much preferring one night stands or time alone. But that was before you came waltzing back into his life. He was just trying to figure out how to tell you he was falling head over heels for you without scaring you off or causing your brother to go into a murderous rage. 

He was still working on both. 

You preen under his affection as he tugs you towards the bed. You feel that need deep in your belly once again, hoping that tonight will finally be the night Max doesn’t slam on the breaks mid-makeout session. The sight of him climbing out of his car after putting it on pole was undoubtedly one of the sexiest things you’d ever seen. You feared what your body would do if he won tomorrow. 

“Why Max Verstappen, it sounds like you have a crush on me.” Your voice is low and raspy, embarrassingly needy. 

Max grabs you around the waist, pulling you down on top of him causing you to squeal in delight. “I have much more than a crush on you.” His confession has you grinning down at him like a fool. 

With one swift movement, you find yourself underneath Max, his strong arms pinning you down into the mattress. The heat the floods your belly travels down to that spot between your legs, making you squeeze them together. The look Max gives you says that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. He rocks his hips into yours, seeking the friction that he’s been craving since earlier in the day when you had the quick make out session in his drivers room. 

“Kiss me, Maxie.” You beg. The neediness in your voice sends a jolt of electricity shooting down Max’s spine, landing straight in his already hard cock. There was no way he was going to be able to stop himself tonight. Not after all the teasing you two had been doing for the past however many weeks. 

Max obliges, dipping his head so that his lips capture yours in a heated kiss. He’s been dying for this moment all fucking day. A thrill of pride floods his system when you moan into his mouth, tongue slipping past his teeth to lick up against his. “Fuck.” He groans. “I need this dress off of you right now.” He orders, sitting up so you can follow suit. 

Without a second thought, you practically rip the dress off your body, tossing it across the room while Max lifts his team polo up over his head. You’ve seen Max without a shirt before but every time feels like the first time. You can’t help but admire the lean muscle that hides under his clothing, thrilled that you’re the one that gets to touch him so intimately. 

You’re left squirming below him now, left only in bits of white lace and satin. If Max had less self control, he would have plunged into you right then and there. But he was a patient man and knew that he wanted to make you come before he got anywhere near you with his dick. 

“Lay back.” He orders, an air of authority causing you to listen obediently. “I want to taste you.” 

You practically groan at the thought of his tongue in between your legs but you don’t have to wait long before that thought becomes reality. With your head resting against one of the fluffiest pillows you’ve ever felt, you watch Max shimmy down your body with heavy lidded eyes. His long fingers slip beneath the waistband of the white lacy panties you picked up on the same shopping trip as the dress, pulling them down achingly slow. “Max.” You breathe, squirming under his touch. 

Before you know it, you’re completely bare underneath him, save for the white bits of lace covering your chest and Max is nestled between your legs, staring up at you like you’re something to be devoured and savored at the same time. One finger dips into your center, an obscene sound causing you to gasp against his touch. “Look at you.” He murmurs, voice full of awe. “You’re so wet, pretty girl.”

You nearly come from Max calling you ‘pretty girl’, Lord help you when he actually fucks you.

“Have you been like this all day? Poor thing, all soaking wet and needy for me. Can I help you take care of it?” His voice drops an octave, a deep raspy baritone that sets your skin aflame. 

All you can do is whimper in response, nodding your head vigorously. 

Max lowers his lips to your skin then, nipping at the delicate skin at your thighs. Your hips lift on their own accord, a faint buzzing in your head taking over all coherent thought. Your entire existence stutters down to the sensation of Max’s scruffy face between your legs. When he finally brings his mouth up to taste that slick wetness that’s been begging for his attention all fucking day, you bow up off the bed, desperate with the need to have something, anything touch you there. 

“Max.” You gasp, hands fisting the creamy white sheets beneath you. Never in your life has anyone made you feel the way he does right now. “Oh my God, Max.” One hand finds it’s way to his head, tugging on his hair so hard Max can’t help the moan that escapes his lips. 

You know you sound so pathetically needy, whining and whimpering as Max licks and sucks and eats at your soaking wet pussy, obscene sounds filling the quiet hotel room. 

“Do you like that, schatje?” He asks, voice muffled a bit because he refuses to move away from where it’s buried between your legs. “Do you like my tongue between your legs? What if I added a finger or two? Do you think you’d like that, sweet girl?” 

It’s all you can do to simply nod, your voice suddenly non-existent. Max is true to his word and as soon as you’re done nodding, he slips not one but two fingers inside you. Your hips snap up off the bed once again at the sudden intrusion, overstimulation now threatening to make you collapse. Legs trembling, you squirm under his touch. 

“That’s it. Look at you, taking my fingers so well. I can’t imagine how well you’re going to take my cock. Such a good girl.” 

The words are just too much but when Max latches his mouth onto your clit finally, you hurtle over the cliff that he’s been pushing you towards for weeks now. Your orgasm is swift and hard, your body going stiff for a split second before you languidly melt into the mattress, riding out the waves of pleasure as Max continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, coaxing more pleasure out of your body than you thought was even possible. 

“Jesus fuck, Max.” You sigh, looking down at a very smug Max who is still settled between your legs. You’re practically boneless, limp against the soft duvet beneath you. 

Max scrambles up your body, lips swollen and glistening with your slick arousal. He kisses you hard, the taste of you on his lips so utterly intoxicating you don’t know what to do. Without thinking, you reach behind your back, unhooking your bra so you can get more of your skin in contact with his. Max groans appreciatively seeing you completely bare underneath him. He palms one perfect breast while lowering his lips to the other, sucking the already hard nipple into his mouth. The hum of pleasure vibrates against your skin, sending waves of pleasure skittering down your spine. Max rocks his nearly painful erection into your center, the friction from the thick material of his joggers rubbing against your sensitive skin so deliciously you nearly come a second time. 

“Max.” You pant, fingers sifting through his thick hair. “Max, please fuck me.” 

Max smiles up at you, your second nipple now caught between his lips. “Someone is needy tonight.” 

“Always needy for you.” You whimper. 

Max’s sweats are off his body so quick you barely register what’s happening but the next thing you know, the head of his hard cock is sliding in and out of the mess between your legs. He pumps himself a few times with his strong hand, looking down at you with the most tender look on his face. “You sure? There’s no going back after this. You’re mine after tonight if we do this.” His tone is serious, like what’s been building between the pair of you is coming down to this very moment. 

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my entire life.” You tell him, hand coming up to frame his strong jaw. 

When Max sinks into you the first time, the sting of his size has you digging little half moons into his back with your long, Ferrari red nails. The moan that comes from the back of your throat is downright pornographic but Max has never heard anything better. He gives you a moment to adjust to the fullness of him, wanting to make sure you’re okay. You are so achingly full with him, it’s almost too much. He’s everywhere all at once, covering your body with his lean frame, filling all of your senses with nothing but his scent, his body, his touch. 

Max eases into you slowly, inch by aching inch. It’s just as much for his benefit as it’s for yours. If he goes to quickly, he knows he’s going to embarrass himself. He wants this, needs this to last as long as humanly possible. His eyes flutter shut at your blinding tightness, breath stuttering out of him in quick bursts. “Christ, schatje. How are you so fucking tight?” He murmurs in your ear, bracing his arms on either side of your body. 

You’re completely speechless underneath Max, the sensation of being stuffed so full of him tearing any ability to speak away from you the second he’s inside you. 

Max struggles to control himself for a few moments before he slowly begins to move inside you. The strokes start out slow, so achingly slow that you can’t help but whine underneath him. “Faster.” You pant, despite your desire for this to last for the rest of your life. “Faster, Max.” You beg. 

 The pair of you find a rhythm so easily it’s nearly scary. It’s almost like your bodies were molded at the same time with each other in mind, that’s how easily you come together. Max rocks in and out of you, significant length hitting that spot deep inside you every time he pushes deeper inside you. You lock your legs around his back, bringing him even closer to you. All the while, Max’s gaze never leaves yours and you sink so deeply into their depths you momentarily think you might be completely lost to him. You’ll realize hours later, as you fall into a gentle slumber against his naked body, that you are completely lost to him. They say sex complicates things. But with you and Max? With you and Max, sex only makes things clearer. 

The hotel room is quiet save for the moans coming from the both of you. Slick skin slapping against heated flesh is so erotic, you can’t get any words out you’re so distracted by the sound. Max pumps in and out of you, setting a blistering pace that has the both of you hurtling towards release. 

“So. Fucking. Close.” He grits out, lips attaching to your collar bone in desperate need to get closer to you. “Are you going to come again, baby? Going to come on my cock? I love how messy you are beneath me.” Max continues the string of obscene chatter in your ear, allowing you to hurtle towards your own release with him. 

“Oh my God, Max. Don’t stop. Please never stop.” You beg, nails leaving deep scratches in his back. That was going to be hard to explain to his physio tomorrow. 

Max grunts once, twice, three times before he flings himself over that cliff but not before he grabs your hand and yanks you over with him. His release is sudden and strong, painting your insides with his hot pleasure. He groans in your ear, that sound being the last thing you hear before you’re spasming around his cock, velvet walls gripping him so hard he can’t move for a few moments. 

Max melts into you once he starts to come down from the high you brought him, dick remaining inside of you as long as he can manage. His breath is labored, filling his lungs in quick spurts. He can’t remember the last time he had orgasmed that hard, if ever. 

Your legs are still locked around him but eventually, after what feels like hours, Max gently pulls out, his cum mixing with your own slick mess. The evidence of what the pair of you had just done leaks down your legs in one of the most erotic images you’ve ever seen. Rolling onto his side, Max pulls you along with him so your back is flush against his chest, sweaty skin sticking to yours. 

You’re quiet for a while, brain too foggy with pleasure to say much of anything beyond a murmur of satisfaction here and there. Exhaustion plays at the edges of your mind, desperately wanting to slip into that tranquil state now that you are fully satisfied. “Max.” You breath, enjoying the way his arms curl around your body. “That was…” you sigh, struggling to find the words. 

“Did I fuck you speechless, pretty girl?” 

“I think so.” You murmur, snuggling even deeper into his arms. “I think so.” 

“Good.” Is all he says before pulling you impossibly closer. “Now sleep, we’ll clean up in a little bit, okay?” 

Not having the energy to argue or do much of anything other than nod, you simply agree before closing your eyes, basking in that post-orgasm bliss that had settled over both you and Max. 

Tag List (send me a message if you want to be included!!) @shelbyteller

[eloquentlytired]

— when the time comes

pairing: old man!logan howlett x gn! reader

word count: no idea but this one isn't very long.

part two is out!

tags: major character death — angst — reader is logan’s sunshine — mention of blood & wounds — logan low-key proposing 5 seconds before he dies — non established relationship

author's note: this has been on my mind since 2 days ago so I had to do it now.. I hope you guys enjoy reading this heartbreak! and yes I wrote this after watching Logan (2017) again. just a bit of an alternative type of ending so I can write abt logan x reader! as always reblogs & likes & conversations are sooo welcome ^_^

god stood me up

and I don't know why

lights are on

but nobody's home

you find him leaning against a tree trunk, a chunk of wood piercing his sides open as blood soaks through his shirt. that isn't the only wound he's sporting but it's the most evident one; the one that'll possibly lead him to his demise.

logan blinks upon noticing you as if he's just seeing things or dreaming. when you crouch down beside him and place your hand on his arm, he realizes exactly just how real you are. “logan?” there are tears in your eyes and he hates that you're crying because of him again. you had been living with him, charles and caliban way before it all turned to shit. and somehow the only ones left standing were laura and you. and the kids that logan had managed to save; he truly had saved so many lives.

there's a silence aside from his heavy breathing before your shaky hands cup his face. the blood flows out of his wound and mouth like a river. in some way you're bleeding too — inside your heart. “hey sunshine.” logan whispers with a soft smile and you feel something tear your chest apart from the inside. “I made you cry again.” you see the way his hand twitches by his side. he wants to touch you but he's old and tired and wounded. there's no energy left in him to move anymore. “the kids are okay, laura is okay— I have the car and..and there's still time— the hospital—” your voice trails off when logan closed his eyes.

“you know what makes me angry, sunshine?” logan asks and you simply stare at him, shaking your head. when he opens his eyes again, they are full of unshed tears. “gonna miss my daughter’s first birthday with me—” logan mutters brokenly and the vision of laura swims beneath his half-opened eyelids. and after laura there is you; smiling. at the beach. you've always wanted to go to the beach with him but he never took you since he was working day and night to take care of everything. of everyone. “and i’m also gonna miss my sunshine.” his eyes fall on you, on your crying face. the tears sliding down your cheeks are plenty and there is so much emotion pooling in those orbs of yours. logan wants to kiss you, tell you it'll be alright. but he can’t even move.

he coughs, some blood spluttering on his white shirt and you flinch. your fingers shake as you slide them through his messy hair, stroking them in the way he’s always loved. “logan, I'm sorry...I— I'm so sorry logan..” you keep chanting and logan feels the frustration in his bones when he tries to move his arms. he can't, he's too weak now, and he's angry with himself that he's unable to comfort you the way he wants. the way he once could but never did. “not you nor the entire world could ever prevent this, sunshine. it was meant to be like this.” he says before coughing again, more blood trickling down his beard.

you crawl by his side, on the dirty ground, and press against his ‘good’ side while leaning your head on his shoulder. you tilt your head back enough for your eyes to reach his exhausted face. logan maintains a smile you haven't seen in forever. in damn years to be precise. “charles spoke to me of other timelines and some shit about— multiverse was it?” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “I don't fucking know. I just wanted him to take the damn pills.” his sentence makes both of you laugh although logan is holding back with that — it'll only cause more physical pain after all. “point is..if it's true then—”

“—we gotta find each other yeah? and laura.” his eyes aren't on you anymore but they're in the sky. it's bluer than ever and the clouds part to show him the sun. logan doesn't look away even if it makes his eyes ache. you stare. “wanna make it right, sunshine.” he tells you as you sniffle by him. his fingers flinch again between your bodies and you slide a single hand down to hold his own, to intertwine your fingers in a gentle mess. “but for now I want to rest.” logan whispers and your grip tightens around his hand. if he had the strength, he'd squeeze back. you knew this.

“you did excellent.” you finally manage to say, a little steadier this time. logan averts his gaze to you as you continue. “you did a good job. you did such a good job.” you repeat with a smile so soft that logan starts yearning for you already. his faint chuckle turns into a rough cough and he takes some time to recover before speaking again.

“maybe after I rest, I'll open my eyes and..” you watch as logan’s eyes begin closing and how the heaving of his chest slows. he's deathly pale by now, the veins underneath his eyes are prominent, but your grip never slackens. you crawl closer until your foreheads touch. logan draws one last breath and you swallow down your cry. “and I'll see my daughter. and my... spouse.” your eyes shoot open wide but logan’s remain fallen shut. your chest heaves up and down intensely but logan’s remains still.

when the time comes, your feet are forcefully dragging you away towards your old car while logan lies beneath the ground.

[flowersforbucky]

magnetic field

erik lehnsherr x reader

word count: 2k

summary: takes place following the events of days of future past. reader is a mutant with elemental manipulation powers.

a/n: this goes out to the three erik/magneto fans that will read this 🤧 i don't have high hopes for this but i still thought i'd give sharing it a shot. very well may end up deleting it but we will see lol

warnings/tags: a little bit of angst but mostly fluff! kissing, suggestiveness, implied smut but nothing graphic

You just keep me coming back

Something about how opposites attract

You hold me down

I'm in it for real

Love me, leave me high and dry

I'm back in your arms and I don't know why

I can't get around your magnetic field

- magnetic field by lights

It's just past dusk on a Sunday evening when he shows up on your doorstep with drenched clothes and dripping wet hair.

You knew that you were bound to see him again one day. You just didn't expect it to be here, or quite this soon.

“What are you doing here, Erik?”

You cross your arms and lean against the frame of your small cabin's front door, wrapping your cardigan tighter around yourself as you take in his appearance.

It had only been a few months since you had last seen him in D.C., but those few months had taken their toll on him. Dark circles encase his eyes that appear almost hollow.

“It always seems to rain when you're feeling particularly nervous,” he says with a half smirk. Thunder booms from above as rain beats down harder on the tin roof of your porch.

“It's Oregon,” you shrug. You concentrate on keeping your voice even. “It's rained for the last five days.”

He's not wrong. You do tend to subconsciously make it rain when you're nervous.

He chuckles under his breath, taking a step closer to you. Your breath catches in your throat.

“Do you really have to ask why I'm here?”

Now it's you who avoids his question. You have your hopes as to why he's here, but you can't bring yourself to feed into them. Not after all this time - after years of trying to move on while he was imprisoned, followed by a brief reunion during the events of Paris and D.C. that left your heart shattered all over again just a few months ago.

Can you really let yourself believe that he's simply here for you?

You raise a single hand to the side of his neck, your palm caressing the wet skin of his throat. His eyes narrow but he doesn't flinch away, only watches you curiously.

A second later, his previously soaked clothes and sopping wet hair are completely dry. He glances down, realizing what you did as you reluctantly pull your hand away from his skin. You think maybe - just maybe - a hint of disappointment flashes through his eyes at the loss of contact.

“Can't have you dripping all over my carpet,” you sigh, turning to retreat back into the house. You hear the front door click shut and you know that he's followed your lead inside.

“So, why Oregon?” He asks hesitantly as he slips his coat off and hangs it on a hook in the foyer. You turn to find him taking in the appearance of the place you've been trying to call home for the last few months. His eyes skim over the piles of books scattered throughout the small living room, and then to the bouquet of wilted zinnias on your dining room table that you had picked in hopes of making the bland space feel more lively.

“I'll answer your questions if you answer mine,” you offer, leaning against the edge of your kitchen counter. He walks to the dining room table a few feet away from you and pulls out a chair, taking a seat in front of where you stand.

“That sounds fair enough to me, darling.”

Your heart skips a beat at the familiar pet name. It feels as if it's been a lifetime since you've heard him call you that.

“I came here once as a kid,” you answer simply. “After what happened a few months ago, I couldn't bring myself to go back to New York. Charles, the mansion.. everything reminded me of you. I just needed to get away for a while.

He looks down at his lap, unable to hold your gaze. “I have so many regre–”

“Your turn,” you interrupt as you turn to the cabinet behind you. You rummage through it, gathering a tea kettle and a mug.

You aren't ready to hear his apologies. As badly as your heart has wanted to hear that he's sorry for so long, to hear him say that he regrets ever doing anything to jeopardize what the two of you had - you don't trust yourself to not crumble into a million pieces at those words now that he's sitting in your kitchen.

“How did you find me?” You ask without looking back at him. You fill the kettle with water, and bring it to a boil in seconds with the snap of your fingers.

“I'll tell you,” he says over the sharp whistle of the kettle. “But you can't laugh at me.”

You snort, pouring the boiling water over an earl grey tea bag as you try to ignore the swell of bitterness in your chest at the nostalgia of it. Memories of this exact scenario in a different time and place flash through your mind - a happier, more innocent time and place. You carry the mug over to where he sits and place it in front of him before pulling out the chair next to him.

You hold out your pinky towards him, elbow on the dining room table. He cocks an eyebrow at you.

“I pinky promise that I won't laugh at you,” you say, little finger still extended. He leans forward, lips forming a smirk as he wraps his pinky around yours. His skin is every bit as soft and warm as you remember it being and you dread the moment that he pulls away.

“I went to the mansion,” he answers with his finger still secured around yours. “I snuck into Charles’ study when no one was home and found some letters you had written to him. I saw the return address on the envelope.”

“Huh,” you muse. “I guess I see why you made me promise not to laugh.” You're not sure what you were expecting his answer to be, but you didn’t think it would be quite so… human.

“Your turn to answer a question, darling.”

Your only response is a small nod.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” you answer, perhaps a bit too quickly. “I don’t.”

His posture slackens, relief taking over his features. He leans over to where your fingers are intertwined, and presses his lips to the side of your pinky finger. It has been years since his lips have touched your skin, but you melt at the familiar warmth all the same.

“Good,” he sighs in relief. His breath fans over your skin, leaving a visible trail of goosebumps over your hand. “I do not intend to leave unless you order me away.”

Your eyes burn with tears that threaten to spill over. His sudden appearance, his words, his mere presence after so much time apart is overwhelming. Despite it all, you can’t bring yourself to care about the reasons why you’ve had to spend so much time apart.

He’s here, and that’s enough for you. Everything else can be addressed in time.

You bring your free hand to his face, cupping his jawline in your palm. Your thumb skims over the stubble that graces his cheeks.

“What do we do now?” you wonder aloud. His pale eyes crinkle as he gives you the first smile that you’ve seen from him in years.

“We try to make up for lost time.”

••••••

You heat him some leftovers from the dinner you had made for yourself not long before his arrival, a bowl of chicken noodle soup and homemade bread. He scarfs the food and the tea that you'd made for him down within minutes, and then retreats to your cabin’s small bathroom to rinse off the last few days of cross-country travel. He had brought a singular duffel bag that now rests on the foot of your bed - which just so happens to be the only bed in the house, seeing as how it's a one bedroom and you live here alone.

Butterflies fill your belly at the implication. There was once a time where it never would have been a question - of course the two of you would have shared the only bed in the house. Now, doing so could very well mean diving back in too quickly and ending up broken all over again.

But then again, didn't that become a possibility the second that you opened your door to find him on your porch?

“What’s on your mind?” His soft voice sounds from behind you. You had been so lost in thought that you didn't hear him exit the bathroom and wander back down the hallway.

You turn to find him leaning against your bedroom door frame, wearing only a towel that hangs loosely from his hips. His chestnut hair still drips wet.

Your eyes flicker between him and the spare quilt that you have piled in your arms.

“You can sleep in here,” you tell him with a nod towards the bed that you'd just put a set of fresh sheets on. “I'll take the couch.”

He chuckles lowly, standing up straight as you walk towards the door, blocking your exit.

“Don't be silly. I'm not going to kick you out of your bed in your own home,” he tells you in a gentle but firm tone.

“You're not kicking me out of my bed,” you assure him. “I'm offering it to you.”

Your cheeks warm under his gaze that you struggle to hold - your eyes threatening to wander down the expanse of his chest with the rise and fall of each breath that he takes.

“It's loads comfier that whatever cot that you were sleeping on in prison, I promise,” you jab at him lightly when he doesn't respond.

He hums in consideration, taking a step closer to you.

“It's not the cot that I minded so much while I was in prison. It's the fact that any bed without you in it feels empty.”

A clap of thunder booms in the distance at the same time that your heart skips a beat.

“I'm not expecting anything to happen, darling,” he assures you lightly. “We don't even have to touch. After so much time apart, I just want to be next to you.”

You exhale a breath that you didn't realize you had been holding in, and place the quilt in your arms on the dresser right next to you.

“Don't be silly,” you repeat his sentiment from just moments ago. You take a step closer to him, now able to smell hints of Old Spice soap from his shower. “Of course you can touch me. If that's what you want.”

“If that's what I want?” He scoffs softly, inching towards you. You place your hands on his hips, walking backwards until your thighs brush against the edge of your mattress. You're lodged between him and the bed, his bare chest practically brushing against yours.

“As if I’d ever not want that.”

He raises his hands to each side of your face and tilts your head up to look at him. His thumb massages over the swell of your bottom lip, his eyes locked on your mouth.

“Erik,” you breathe, and before you can get out another word, his lips are slated over yours. You pull him flush against you by your hold on his waist.

When you close your eyes and focus solely on the feeling of his mouth moving in synchrony with yours, you forget where you're at and everything that's happened over the course of the last decade. In this moment, you're not in a run down cabin in the middle of nowhere Oregon - you're in the courtyard of the mansion and he's kissing you for the very first time.

“I missed you so much,” he whispers against your mouth when he pulls away. You raise up on your toes, pressing your lips against his one more time before pulling back to stare up at him with a smirk. You sit down on the edge of the mattress and scoot back, pulling him down with you.

“Then let's make up for lost time.”

You don’t notice it until you're drifting to sleep in each other's arms hours later, but the thunderstorm that had been raging upon his arrival had slowed to a silent, peaceful mist.

thank you for reading ♡ comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!!!

[nanivinsmoke]

✩ Take Care .

✩ logan ‘wolverine’ howlett x mutant!femreader

hate is a strong word, but not stronger than the feelings you have for him.

✩ tags: sexual tension, enemies to lovers (?), mentions of blood, you and Logan both get hurt, passionate sex, creampies, logan has nightmares, rough sex, etc…

note: nightmare scene heavily inspired by the first x-men movie with rogue and logan. cr: plutism for divider <3!

“Did you hear? Ms. Y/N slapped Mr. Logan in front of her whole class!”

“I heard that he called her a bitch. I don’t know, that seems deserved.”

“Those two are definitely in love with each other. I don’t even have to use my powers to know.” Professor Xavier shook his head as he wheeled by a group of students, talking about his two hard headed staff members; who can’t seem to get along. At least that’s what they’ve been trying to claim.

Being a telepath has its perks, but it also has its disadvantages, and right now the professor wished he couldn’t read people’s minds. As he rolled into the science class, he wasn’t surprise3: to see the two of you there—keeping distance from one another.

“I’ve been hearing a lot about you two.” Charles announced, causing the two of you to look at each other, an eye roll from you while Logan groaned. Using his telepathy, the professor closed the classroom door; rolling closer to you both.

“Why are we here, Charles.” Logan spoke, getting ready to light his cigar—however you swiped it out of his mouth, using your powers. He shot you and look and the two of you began to bicker, but that immediately ended as the Professor got into your heads; silencing you both.

“Sorry professor..” You mumbled and the old man nodded his head.

“This is the third time the two of you had got into a fight, not counting the ones off school grounds. You two are teachers, adults better yet, and you two are setting a bad example for the kids.” Even though he didn’t look angry as he spoke, it was evident that the Professor was. It was hard for you both to look him in the eyes, he was disappointed with you two.

“If the two of you don’t clean up your acts and realize the truth behind your feelings for each other, then I’m going to put you both on leave; until I deem fit.” The Professor turned and wheeled himself out, not bothering to hear an explanation from either of you—since he made himself clear.

You turned to look at Logan, his hazel eyes on yours before he turned away—following after the professor’s steps, leaving you alone. You sighed and began to clean up your classroom, Xavier’s words replaying in your head; especially what he meant about your feelings. ‘Did you actually hate Logan?’

That question played in your mind for the next couple of weeks, wondering what were your true feelings for him. The two of you stayed out of each other’s way, taking the Professor’s words seriously; you two couldn’t afford to get into another fight.

The only time you two saw each other is during x-men meetings or as you passed each other in the hall way. It was for the best and everyone could see the change, especially Charles.

However, things took a turn during one night in the mansion…

It was real late in the night, almost everyone was asleep; except for you. You had just got out of the shower, a silver colored towel wrapped around your nude body—excess water dripping off of you as you rummaged through your closet for something to sleep in. Settling for an oversized t shirt, you slipped it over your head, tossing your towel on your vanity’s chair—before climbing into your bed, getting comfortable.

And as you reached over to turn off your lamp, your ears perked up to this low groaning, followed by some yelling. You rose an eyebrow and climbed out of bed, slipping on your slippers before coming out of your room, checking to see where that noise was coming from.

And as you followed the sounds, with it becoming louder as you approached, you found yourself outside of Logan’s room. With a soft knock, you entered and tip toed inside—the room covered in darkness, yet you could see the man writhing in his sleep. You frowned at the sight, it wasn’t uncommon for mutants to have nightmares about their pasts. However, seeing him like this hurt you and you walked over to the bed, lightly tapping him to wake him up from this terrible dream.

He continued to shake and mumble, his hands clenching the sheets below him and when you reached over once more—tapping him, he shot up from his bed; yelling—claws unsheathing and piercing your skin. You were stunned, mouth agape like you were going to scream, however nothing came out—you couldn’t.

And as Logan slowly came to, he had realized what he had done, his hazel eyes still wide like saucers—claws retracting back into his knuckles.

“Mr. Logan? Oh my—im going to get Ms. Grey!” A student who happened to hear everything, appeared in the room—shocked by the horrifying sight. You gasped and kept your eyes on Logan, before responding to the student, “No need, just go back to bed. I’m fine.”

Your healing factor had now kicked in and your wounds slowly started to close, the pain fading away as well. You turned your head and gave the student a smile, reassuring them once more. “I’m okay, really! You can go back to bed.” The kid looked over at you once more before nodding, retreating back to their room and leaving you two alone.

Turning back to Logan, his eyes had softened and he had grabbed your waist—staring at you.

“I’m sorry….I didn’t mean—“

“I know. You were just having a nightmare.” You cut him off and gave him a smile small before he pulled away, getting up from his bed and grabbing a t-shirt from his dresser—tossing it over to you. “Since i ruined yours…”

You smiled once more and turned in your heels, headed for the door before you felt his hand on your wrist, pulling you back.

“Stay with me….if that’s alright with you?” His voice was soft, just like his eyes. There was something about this that made your heart swell, so you nodded your head and dipped into his adjoining bathroom—changing out of your bloody t-shirt, into the clean one that he had given you—which smelled like him. Warm and musky, with hints of spice. It was comfortable.

Reappearing from the bathroom, you saw Logan lying on his bed, looking up at the ceiling until his eyes fell onto you. You gave him as soft smile, before climbing into bed with him, creating a distance between you two as you stayed on one side of the bed.

It was quiet as you laid there, trying your hardest to sleep, however it was just too cold. You shivered and tucked yourself further under the blanket, yet it still wasn’t enough. You looked over at Logan, his hazel eyes closed, and scooted over towards him—his body heat radiating off of him and warming you up. He felt you next to him and he didn’t protest or push you off—instead he pulled you closer and wrapped his arm around you, relaxing into his spot.

And after a few minutes, you could hear him snoring, sound asleep once again. You sighed and closed your eyes, drifting off to sleep in the comfort of his arms.

From that day on, everything changed for you.

You had found yourself in his room almost every night, sleeping in the bed with him, arms around each other; having the best sleep of your lives. He didn’t mind it either. You would find him awake every time, almost like he was waiting to fall asleep with you.

And in the afternoon, during your breaks, he would treat you to lunch. Sometimes you guys would eat at the academy, other times he would take you for a ride into the city, buying you something to eat out there.

Almost like your perception of each had changed and you weren’t going to question it. You liked it and deep down you knew he did too. But, there was something about this that had your heart thumping and skipping a beat. Is this what the Professor meant? Was the truth behind the hatred really something else?

Those questions scrambled in your mind and as you entered Logan’s bedroom, your heart caught in your throat. The sight that was plagued upon you was shocking, Logan and another woman in his bed—kissing each other. “Oh.” You let out, startling the two.

The woman parted from him and excused herself out of his room, brushing past you as you stood near his doorway. You kept your eyes on him, a million emotions running through your body as his demeanor changed, standing up and coming close to you.

“Look, I don’t need a fucking babysitter and im damn sure not your boyfriend. You’re fucking suffocating me!” His words were harsh and eat one felt like a personal slap to the face. You could feel your eyes watering and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop your tears from falling. After all the things the two of you said to one another, this was one of the worst.

“You’re a dick. Go to fucking hell!” You stormed out of his room, tears falling down your face—head tense from thoughts of him; and you soon realized what Charles meant. Without using your powers to connect with the Professor, you knew he was listening to your thoughts anyway—shaking his head as he listened to your heartbroken mind. He was disappointed, especially in Logan.

Days turned into nights and nights turned into days as time went on, the two of you never interacting with each other. You passed by each other like two stranger’s on the street and evens thought the two of you worked together—that didn’t mean you needed to interact with one another.

You did your best to avoid him, during team missions you made sure to be paired with someone else and if you were paired with him; you would handle the mission practically on your own. When it was real late at night and you went into the mansion’s kitchen for a snack, and saw him there, you would quickly grab whatever you were looking for and headed to your room—never acknowledging him.

You even went as far as getting a set of ear plugs so you wouldn’t hear him at night. You were done with him. You focused on yourself, your teaching and trainings—riding him of your mind.

As you sat in your class after the last one, grading papers, Charles entered, catching your attention. You smiled at him, but from the look on his face you knew something was wrong. Using your telepathy powers, you listened to his thoughts, your facial expression changing by the second.

You shook your head and stacked your papers together, “He can go to hell and back, Professor. I don’t wanna hear about him.” The older man wheeled closer to you, and placed his soft hand onto yours, a half smile on his face.

“I’ve read his mind, he thinks about you a lot. He’s been miserable with out you, ever since that night.”

“Yeah? Well that his problem, im not the one pushing people away. Im not the one who’s scared of letting people in! Im not the one who’s not scared to admit how they feel!” You yelled, heart thumping out of your chest; overwhelmed with emotions.

“And how do you feel?” Charles inquired and your eyes widened, but before you were able to respond a cloud of blue smoke appeared in the room; allowing Kurt to pass through—a frantic look on his face.

“Professor! Come quick, Logan’s been hurt! He isn’t regenerating and he’s not waking up!” The sound of his voice along with the news, made your heart drop to your stomach. You quickly grabbed onto Xavier’s chair and teleported with both him and Kurt, appearing in the academy’s infirmary. Your eyes widened once you laid sight on him, his half naked body hooked up to wires and machinery, while Jean and Hank worked on him—trying to find anything to get the male up.

Your eyes were filled with tears as you ran over to the table, looking at every wound he had, heart breaking by the second. You cupped his face and sobbed, at that very moment you weren’t afraid to admit how you felt. You were in love with him. Deeply in love with, Logan.

“Fix him! Please!” You begged Jean and Hank, watching them trying to repair his body; but the wounds were deep and without his regenerative factor—nothing would heal.

“We’re trying, but he doesn’t seem to be there either. Like his mind isn’t conscious—I can’t connect with him telepathically,” Jean spoke, patching his bloody body with gauze, hoping to soak up everything.

By now, tears poured out of your eyes as you looked at his lifeless body, “How did this happen?” You asked, eyes never leaving Logan’s body.

“He was on a mission. His car flipped multiple times—totaling everything, injuring him gravely.” Charles explain and you blinked out tears, cupping his face, before you turned back over to the Professor. “Have you tried to tap into his mind?”

“I have, but it’s like he’s not letting me in…I think you should give it a go.” Charles suggested and you took a look at Logan, leaning down to kiss his temple—taking in his musky scent before placing your hand onto his forehead and closing your eyes.

‘Let me in Logan’ You whispered, before you heard his voice in your mind.

‘Princess, is that you?’ His deep voice asked, the nickname making you melt, before you continued.

‘It’s me. I need you to wake up for me okay?’

‘I fucked up, Y/N. I hurt you….fuck im such a dick’ The hurt in his voice made your heart pang, while more tears left your closed eyes:

‘I know baby, but you have to wake up for me. Okay?’ You didn’t hear a reply back, however you were quickly shot out of mind, hearing him groan out in pain as he finally returned back to his body. His wounds started to close up, stopping his crimson red blood from pouring out. Logan’s hazel eyes connected with yours and he started to pull out the wires in his body.

“Wait Logan! You shouldn’t—“ Hank was cut off when he seen the wolf like male reach over and pull you into a kiss—a deep and passionate one.

“I think we should give these two some privacy.” Charles suggested, with everyone agreeing and following him out of the infirmary. The two of you stayed just like that, kissing each other, lips melting onto one another’s—making your heart swell. And as he pulled away from your addictive, plump lips, a spit trail followed; which you happily slurped up.

Logan pulled you close, ignoring the soreness in his body, arms wrapping around your waist—while his head lied on your shoulder, “I fucked up, I ended up hurting you twice…all because I couldn’t say I Love You.”

You were quick to pull back from him, scanning his face for any misconceptions, however his face remained the same; and you kissed him once more—hand reaching up to tug on his hair, eliciting a growl from him. His huge hand traveled from your hips to your ass, giving the fat a nice squeeze through your skirt, making you whine.

“Could smell you the moment I kissed you. I should’ve known how needy you’d be~” You whimpered as his hand trailed under your skirt, ghosting your soaked panties—eyeing you like you were his prey. “Please…Logan~”

“Please what, princess?” He began to rub you through your panties, your slick seeping through and onto his digits. You moaned softly, looking at him with low lidded eyes, “Please, fuck me.” A smirk etched on his face, pulling you into a kiss before he pulled your panties to the side and started to toy on your clit.

His fingers worked numbers on your swollen bud, pinching it and rubbing it in circular motions, making you whine in the sloppy kiss he was giving you. He pulled away from your lips, thick fingers now inside of your aching hole—pumping in and out of it; stretching your walls.

You were in pure bliss, you had yearned for this for some time and now you were getting your wish fulfilled. “Don’t tease me, Lo’~”

“Gotta prep you. Need you to take all of me, princess.” He pulled his fingers from your pussy, a whimper escaping, before he tore your button’s off your top and pulled your skirt off—eyes glued to your navy blue matching set; his favorite color.

You watched him, hunger in your eyes while he undid your bra; your plump breasts falling—nipples standing at attention just for him. The more you watched him take his time with your body, undressing you, the more needy and impatient you became; causing you to take matters in your own hands.

Using your powers, you pushed his back onto the infirmary’s bed, catching him by surprise; eyes locked on your body as you climbed onto of him; hovering right over his crotch. You moved the white blanket, mouth watering at the sight of his heavy cock—cunt becoming more slick with arousal when you grabbed it at the base and eased it into your entrance.

He was just as big as he looked, fatter too, as he stretched your pussy to fit around him—clinging to him like a glove. “Fuck, would’ve been an idiot to give this up,” Logan cursed, big hands clinging to your hips—pushing you all the way down on his length; filling you to the brim. You didn’t bother to try and get used to his size, instead you began to grind and bounce on his dick—tension building in your core; a whine slipping from your lips.

“Slow down, princess. Don’t want you hurting yourself.” You shook your head and continued your movements, tip rubbing against your sensitive spot.

“Need to cum on your cock right now.~” your lewd words, along with the squelching from your cunt, had Logan bucking his hips up to match your movements—allowing a louder, sexier moan to escape from your mouth. “Right there, bub. Sit there and take it.” He pushed your back down, closing the gap between you two and proceeded to drill your pussy.

You were a moaning mess, face on his hairy chest, drool spilling out the sides of your mouth and the coolness form his dog tags stabilizing your body temperature—while he proceeded to make it rise with each stroke.

You were taking it like a good girl, the bubble im your stomach at its peak, seconds away from bursting—you craved the pending orgasm. “G’na cum! Please please please—I love you!” Lips crashing onto one another, his cock twitching; craving a release as well.

“Cum for me….” His tone had came off like a beg and you couldn’t hold it anymore, your walls clung onto him—spasming like crazy, creaming all over his fat dick. Logan watched as you came undone, the pretty mewls and moans were a perfect melody to his ears, perfect enough to help him cum—buckets—into your womb.

He let out grunts, thick ropes of cum pouring inside of you—filling you up while you rode out your high. Your legs shook while he continued to thrust underneath you, bottoming out into your cunt.

And just like earlier, as Charles sat outside the infirmary’s doors, he shook his head—wondering why out of all the mutant powers in the world, he was stuck with telepathy. He unfortunately heard everything, including the two of you going for round two.

However, he was happy the two of you finally got together—his two favorite mutants.

[itaipava]

— f1 boys: the ones you catch staring at you and the ones that catch you staring at them.

THE ONES YOU CATCH STARING AT YOU. . .

LANDO NORRIS can’t stop looking at you. everyone can see how in love and enchanted by you he is just by the way he looks at you with so much love, affection and a beautiful glow of admiration in his eyes. and honestly he doesn’t care if you caught him staring at you or if someone make fun of him for it, he’ll simply keep looking at you the same way but this time with a lazy smile on his face. you try to maintain eye contact for a while, but his gaze is so deep (and in love) it makes you feel shy and fuzzy inside, and when you look away first, he laughs softly and walks over to you, kissing your forehead and calling you beautiful.

DANIEL RICCIARDO sometimes can’t help it, he’s so mesmerized and intrigued by every little detail of yours that he gets lost in that moment. his bright eyes follow your every move as he makes a mental note of all your mannerisms and quirks and how beautiful you are. and he just realizes he’s staring too hard when you points it out; he somehow looks more delighted at being caught than embarrassed. his eyes have nothing but warmth and love as you look at him across the table, and he instantly leans forward, his chin resting on his palm, letting out a dreamy sigh along with a simple smile, totally undramatic, ‘i think you’re the most beautiful person in the world’ and you might think he’s joking, but he really says it with his heart.

MAX VERSTAPPEN doesn’t understand why, but everything you do is charming to him. even the simplest and most mundane things became more beautiful and light to him after he saw you do them; it’s as if you’ve given a new meaning to his life. and when you turn to look at him after feeling the weight of his gaze on you, all you can do is smile; the way he looks at you with all the attention in the world, his eyes shining with love and compassion but also curiosity makes your heart flutter in your chest. he just pretends he hasn’t been caught looking at you like you hang the stars and moon in his sky. but if you look very closely, you will notice a slight flush in his cheeks; you tease him about it and he seriously denies it, avoiding eye contact, but one accidental look at you amidst the bickering, he’s a goner of course, with a fond little smile already tugging on his lips.

OSCAR PIASTRI has his heart racing and red cheeks as he quickly looks away when he realizes he’s been caught staring at you for too long, and for a while, he looks anywhere in the room even when you try to get his attention playfully, but unfortunately, the lovestruck boy can’t help but steal a few too many glances in your direction when he thinks you’ve looked away only to get caught again.

THE ONES THAT CATCH YOU STARING AT THEM. . .

CARLOS SAINZ blatantly looks back at you, his gaze on your face light and unwavering; so full of adoration and love it sends a shiver down your spine. and when he knowingly asks why you are looking at him, you tell him that you enjoy doing it because he’s so beautiful, to which he can only smile sweetly and say, taking your hand in his, “i like looking at you too... you’re too pretty to be real”

CHARLES LECLERC is one of those who keep throwing glances in your direction, a hint of a smirk tugging on his lips, and when you’re seemingly unfazed, he takes that as a challenge, looking right at you and holding eye contact until you’re the one who eventually looks away; only then, he cracks a gleeful grin, playfully poking your cheek while coolly yet fondly saying ‘cute.’

LEWIS HAMILTON is one of those who notices you staring for a while now but acts otherwise only to suddenly whip around and face you with the goofiest grin. having caught off-guard, you turn away, flustered, and he coos lightly ‘aw come on don’t get all shy on me now’ and cups your face gently to make you look at him so now you’re two smitten idiots, smiling at each other, utterly and hopelessly in love.

[httpsserene]

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊’𝖘 1𝖐 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 - 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖑𝖎𝖒𝖎𝖙𝖘

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐞

summary: tainted, virgin!reader is growing tired of grinding against her boyfriends. she’s never touched herself before—no toys, no fingers, no fondling—the friction from a pillow used to be enough. but, maybe having something inside of her isn’t as terrifying as she believed. charles’ pretty pianist fingers don’t look too scary, and they way he raves about how talented max’s daunting thicker fingers are; well, she could be convinced to see what all the fuss is about. content warning: 18+ only. explicit. no penetrative sex. corruption kink. fingering. hand and finger kink. guided masturbation. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. dialogue heavy. max is a brat tamer. word count: 2.7k words pairing: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader soundtrack: pressure • ari lennox

preface: *laughs maniacally*

prev 1k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents next ↻

max stated, “when you get your nails done today, don’t get a new set. keep them natural; you can get polish but keep them short and rounded with no sharp edges.”

you stared at max with a lukewarm expression. it’s seven in-the-fucking morning, and he’s woken you up from your extremely comfortable position tucked into charles’ chest to tell you that you’re getting your nails done and exactly how he wants them done. he must have lost his mind overnight.

“d’you think,” you croaked out, voice unused from sleep, “that getting my nails done will distract me from realizing that my thighs have healed from the friction burn?”

the dutchman opened his mouth to speak but you held up a hand to shush him, and continued scratchily, “‘cause it hasn’t worked. ‘n i don’t even have an appointment to get my nails done? ‘s not happening today.”

“i made one,” he responded with a self-satisfied smile, “it’s in an hour.”

“WHAT THE HELL, MAX?!” you exclaimed, fighting through the layers of blankets tangled around you to make your way out of bed to rush through getting yourself ready. charles, still asleep, snuffled unhappily at the commotion and rolled over facing away from the two of you.

max chuckled mutely as he watches you stumble off the bed towards to en-suite bath, “use my black card–i’m sure it’ll cover the late fee.”

slamming the bathroom door shut, your yell carries through the door, “I WAS GOING TO USE IT ANYWAYS!”

thanks to years of lounging in bed to the last possible second before you needed to get ready, you were exactly on time to your appointment. it’s a boujee “self-care salon” that you don’t usually go to but it’s pretty much impossible to mess up a soak-off and basic manicure. actually, max is paying so there’s really no harm in treating yourself. you go from a basic manicure to the most luxurious mani-pedi package they offer, there’s even a hand, arm, foot, and calf massage included. you leave a healthy tip too; it’s not like you can run up max verstappen’s black card, he won’t even notice.

by the time you get home, you’ve completely forgotten about being mad at max for terrorizing you with morning. but, you’re quickly reminded of why when he jumps you as soon as you walk in the front door, tugging you in by your hands as he examines your nails.

“sheesh,” you gasp, “can i close the door first?” 

charles, more awake but still disgruntled (he considers any-time before noon “too early to be awake), apparates from around the corner and walks to shut the door behind you. he wordlessy shimmies your keys and bag out of your hands, and presses a kiss to your cheek, “bonjour, mon coeur.”

“good morning, charlie,” you murmur sweetly, ignoring max’s general incompetence, “may i…” you shift awkwardly on your feet, “can i have a real kiss, please?”

the brunet’s discontented gaze turned to liquid gold warming your body with the amount of love that poured through just one glance. he leans in to kiss you but yelps, flinching away from you at a pinch on his arm from max.

the older man grunts, “bedroom first. then you can make out with each other to your hearts content.”

your legs have turned to mush from deep kisses, so you’re thankful to be seated on top of charles’ lap on your vanity chair. the monegasque has one hand fisted in the curls at the nape of your neck, moving your head to just the angle he likes as he continues to explore past the seam of your lips. he doesn’t allow you to pull away for more than half a second to catch your breath, all of your hums, moans, and whimpers of delight are caught in his mouth. the lust fogs your brain as he nips and tugs at your bottom lip, the soft skin surrounding your lips raw already from his stubble. the weight of his large hand resting on the small of your back combined with the overwhelming sensations has you shifting your hips rocking back and forth on charles’ thigh, yet you haven’t consciously noticed you actions yet. you haven’t noticed how max has been calling your name to get your attention for a while now.

“liefje, come here,” max’s voice has a commanding edge to it, that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand to attention, “you’ve been patient like i’ve mentioned. so, i think it’s time you experience more than one of our thighs, hm?”

you squirm of charles’ lap, prying his hands off your waist when he tries to tighten his grasp, and eagerly make your way over to the foot of the bed where max is sitting–has he been watching the whole time? the monegasque huffs loudly to inform the two of you of how displeased he is at you discarding him quickly at the promise of something more. the younger man stands up and doesn’t manage to take more than one step in your direction before max halts him.

“and where do you think you’re going?” max asks condescendingly, he pulls you down to sit in between his legs, his chest to your back, so you can face charles, “only good boys get to participate. and if i can remember…two days ago, you decided to be a brat.”

the brat in question reddens, “yes! i was…being mean–but, you said that i don’t get to come, not that i don’t get to touch her?”

max shrugs dismissively, and he starts to undress you–pulling off your shirt to leave you in your bra, while he motions for you to tug off your jeans.

“mon chat–this is unfair,” charles whines, “let me touch her!”

“you want to touch her?” max asks, charles nods eagerly in response, “say you were a brat and apologize, and then maybe i’ll let you touch her.”

the brunet gapes at his boyfriend, stumbling over his words for a few seconds, before he turns to look at you, expecting you to help him out. you curl up, dropping your gaze to your lap and pulling max’s hand around you to play with it while he sorts out charles. the monegasque, too stubborn to do anything but disagree with max, clenches his jaw and fists, before he steps and back and sits in your vanity chair again. he crosses his arms across his chest, and turns his head up at max to emphasize his attitude.

“mmm,” the blonde’s chest rumbles behind you, he dips his head to press a kiss to your temple, “he’ll learn how to act once he realizes he won’t be able to finger your pussy, pretty girl.”

you and charles both jolt with matching gasps of surprise at the reveal of today’s sexual exploration. a meek whimper escapes you and max coos sweetly, “do you want to this, liefje?”

you nod shakily, ignoring the flush of heat to your cheeks and the way you press your thighs together a little tighter. 

“words, baby.”

“y-yes, maxy.”

“remember the rules: any time you feel uncomfortable, tell me and we can stop or take a break.”

“y-yeah,” you say airly, “ok.”

“good girl.”

max tilts your head to the side and lavishes kisses along your neck. your breath catches at the unexpected attention, you can only rest limply against max as he sucks marks into your skin. he nips teasingly at your pulse point and you tighten your grasp on his hand to prevent yourself from moaning embarrassingly loud. you let your head fall backwards to give max complete access to the length of your throat, and in the motion you make eye contact with charles. his green eyes are piercing–you can see the envy, yet you can’t tell if he wishes he was max in this moment, or if he wishes he was you.

the dutchman moves lower and focuses on bruising up your collarbone, tugging and biting at the thin skin and you’ve quickly lost your ability to regulate your volume. every exhale transforms into a moan and max’s free hand gets more exploratory as a result. his lips are wet and flushed red when he pulls himself away from the expanse of your newly bruised neck, playing absently with the strap of your bra and whispers next to your ear, “may i take this off, liefje?”

“yeah, yes, yes–take it off,” you rush out, turning shy at the sound of max’s amusement, “you can take it off, please?”

the use of manners quiets the man’s laughter easily; something about the way you use ‘please’ and ‘thank you,’ unhesitantly in bed causes his brain to misfire. he rids you of the bra, tossing it at charles, who catches it and stares at max in disdain.

the older man smirks, and brings both of his hands to your chest to ghost the pads of his thumbs against your nipples. the barely there touch had your back arching, pushing your breasts more firmly into his grasp to seek more of the sensation. his chest rumbles behinds you and he steadfastly applies more pressure as he toys with the buds–your moans are more like sharp whines now, and whenever he throws in an occasional pinch you shriek, as your vision already blurs from this level of pleasure. you’ll cum before he gets his hand inside your panties.

you clumsy pull at his right hand, trying to tug it away from your breast to direct him further south, but max tuts disapprovingly and you cease your motions as soon as the sound registers.

“actually, liefje–you won’t need my hand for this part, only my voice.”

you tilt your head towards him to stare in confusion, and max brings his hand up to caress your cheek, “i’m going to teach you how to finger yourself, if that’s okay?”

you gulp, the pressure in your tummy only building, “more than okay.”

max nods, and presses a kiss on your jawline.

“be good for me and touch yourself over your panties, pretty girl.”

you squirm anxiously, but do as he ordered. you drag your hand down past your navel and in between your thighs, trying to keep them as closed as possible without having yourself spread out obscenely. max, obviously, doesn’t allow that to slide, and spreads your legs for you, draping them along the outside of his, his knees pressing outwards to prevent you from slamming your thighs shut. you whimper shamefully, but continue to drag two fingers along the seam of your cunt over your thin panties, the fabric beginning to darken as you start to leak.

“nice and slow until you start to get wet for me, yeah?”

“‘m already wet, maxy,” you murmur, biting your lip to suppress a whimper.

(“merde,” charles groans from across the room, throwing his head backwards.)

max brings his hand down to tug your panties to the side, exposing your cunt to the cooler air of the room, and moans at how your glistenting already, “shit–always so wet for me. keep dragging your fingers up and down, liefje.”

max’s hand continues to rest on your navel after he tucked your panties away, and you quickly bore of the slide of your fingers, huffing silently and nudging your nose against his jaw for the next direction, “once your fingers are nice and wet, you’re going to take just one–and gently press inside, yeah? you should be nice and relaxed, okay–if your pretty hole doesn’t open up easily just keep rubbing at yourself and then try again.”

you nod jerkily, and your first attempt at breaching your inner walls fails. you chickened out–after your felt yourself opening up, the pressure was odd. however, with max’s reassurance, you took another pass over your cunt and then tried again. and this time, your finger easily slid within in you–a shocked gasp pushed from your chest at the intrusion. 

“you’re okay,” max murmurs, rubbing at your side and navel calmly, “take your time, get used to the feeling, and when your ready you can start moving that finger, liefje.”

it’s odd–the feeling of something inside you. a little uncomfortable, but not painful like you thought it would be. the strange feeling passes quickly, especially when you draw your finger out and press deeper–it feels good? you think, it feels good at least. max watches the array of emotion pass over your face, and once he sees the previous apprehension dissipate, he instructs you to slide in another finger. the addition for another finger is easier for you this time, even though the pressure is multiplied–as if once you learned that this wouldn’t be painful you were a lot more receptive to the intrusion. 

and when your second finger pops in, the stretch feels good. you sigh breathily, and without further instruction, you begin to slowly thrust your fingers. max leans back and allows you to awkwardly fumble through your own motions, allowing you to figure out what brings you pleasure and what doesn’t. you mimic what you’ve heard girls talk about before, curling your fingers, scissoring them wide, pressing them upwards–and it feels fucking euphoric. your moans begin to ring through the room, and your hips buck dowards to meet your palm, pushing in your fingers deep.

“hm–you see why you needed your nails cut now, pretty girl,” max teases. his words go unheard by you, you’re more focused on trying to find the one spot everybody raves about–you want your vision to flash white, your toes to curl, your eyes to roll, your back to arch, your chest to heave–but you can’t find it. you whine in displeasure, kicking your foot out angrily, and begin to more vigorously thrust your fingers to no avail. 

“let me give you a hand, pretty.”

max gently removes your hand, a sob falling from your lips at the newfound emptiness, but quickly soothes you with the press of two of his fingers inside of you. you and max moan in unison–max at the feeling of  just how tight and dripping wet you are and you at the size of his fingers. max patiently waits for you to adjust, before he begins to absolutely ravage your pussy. his fingers are unforgiving; his rhythm is consistent, the pads of his fingers press firmly along your walls, and he finds your sweet spot after his second attempt of searching.

you shriek, legs trying and failing to slam shut at the overload of pleasure—max coos, ‘good girl’s’ and ‘so pretty’s’ falling from his lips freely. it’s a testament to how talented he is with is fingers that as soon as his thumb falls to press at the bud of your clit–you cum.

it surprises you, max, and charles (from across the room). it’s so overwhelming you cry–forget a toe-curling orgasm, you’e pretty sure you’ve just forgotten your name. your hips are frantically thrusting forward freely, and maxx continues to rub his hand over yout clit until you start bucking away from him in discomfort. you’ve soaked the bed, again. the dutchman tenderly pulls his fingers from the pulsing warmth of your cunt, and calls charles to the bed.

the younger man rushes forward, kneeling on the bed next to max. wordlessly, the blonde shoves his fingers covered in your essence into his mouth, smirking wide at how charles’ eyes widen, exposing his blown out pupils, before they drop to a half-lidded gaze as he thoroughly slurps max’s fingers clean.

when charles pulls away from max’s hand, panting heavily like he was the one who was just brought to a mind-blowing orgasm, max drops that same saliva-covered hand to grope at the bulge in charles’ pants.

the monegasque moans highly, hips thrusting forward to press deeper in to max’s hand–but he pulls it away cruelly.

“you better go take a cold shower charles, since you still can’t come for a while,” max orders nonchalantly, “you might want to put some music on while you’re in there. i would hate for you to get hard again when you hear me make her squirt.”

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© httpsserene 2023

[vivwritesfics]

I had an idea for a fic I know you will write it perfectly! if you decide to, lestappen x sainz!sister readerx they are in a secret relationship and Carlos finds out the guys break up with her because he got mad. They realize the made a mistake and grovel until she forgives them and end it with soft smut?

i see this trope wayyy too much so i tried to take it in a different direction and made it fun instead

"No, Charles! I can't do this anymore!"

From the other end of the phone, your boyfriend tried not to giggle. Tried and failed. You covered the speaker on your phone in an attempt to hide the laughs from your brother.

Your brother who was hiding behind the door to make sure you broke up with his teammate.

Charles cleared his throat, tried to stop himself from laughing. "Mon amour, ma chérie!" He cried, surprising you with his acting skills. "Please! I can't lose you! You're my everything!"

You stopped yourself from releasing a loving sigh. He really was the sweetest man around. "Charles, I'm sorry." Now you were the one holding back giggle. "But we're done."

You ended the call and sucked in a shuddering breath. Charles was a better actor than you, though, and you made a point to rush past your brother. If you stopped, if you let Carlos confront you about it, there was no way you would be able to stop yourself from grinning.

The breakup wasn't real, if that wasn't clear.

You and Charles continued to sneak around behind Carlos's back. It was fun, thrilling, but the two of you weren't very good at it. It wasn't long before you were found out.

This time, Carlos didn't make you fake breakup over the phone.

His hand was on your shoulder as he marched you to Charles's drivers room. He knocked, looking furious as Charles pulled the door open.

"Hi, Charlie," you said and he smiled down at you, his gaze so loving. "Apparently, we need to talk."

Charles stopped himself from rolling his eyes as he welcomes you and Carlos into his drivers room. Carlos sat down and sat you down beside him. He looked at you, looked at Charles, and looked back at you. "Go on," he pushed and tapped your foot with his own.

You sucked in a breath, clearly unamused. Sending Carlos a glare, you turned your attention to Charles. "Carlos says we need to break up," you said and sat back in your seat.

Charles released a chuckle. "Does he?" He asked. "Okay."

"Okay?" You parroted.

He gave a nod. "Okay."

Carlos looked between the two of you. "Is that it?" He asked. "Are you going to leave each other alone now?"

Nodding, you stood up. "C'mon, Carlos. Let's get out of here," you said, slipping your phone onto the seat.

Carlos led the way out of Charles's drivers room. "Trust me," he said, placing his arm over your shoulder. "This is for the best." Carlos kissed the top of your head as he led you away.

"I know," you said and searched through your bag. A well thought out act. "Shit," you said suddenly and Carlos stopped moving. "I forgot my phone."

He gave a nod. "Go and get it. I'll meet you for lunch in a moment."

You tried not to skip back to Charles's drivers room. But your brother really was stupid, wasn't he? He so willingly let you go back to Charles, to the man you had supposedly just broken up with.

The breakup wasn't real, if that wasn't clear.

You knocked on the door and Charles pulled it open. He grabbed your hand and pulled you inside. "I didn't think you were coming back," he whispered and pushed you back against the door.

You shrugged your shoulders and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Had to shake him off," you said and pulled him towards you.

His forehead was against your own. "Maybe we should stop messing with him," Charles suggested, but you shook your head. His smile grew. "You're right," he agreed. "This is fun."

And then he kissed you.