#idk i like to believe that charles never thought about it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

annewithaneofthegreengable · 6 months ago

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Play you? Play me?

charles leclerc x reader

my masterlist

summary in which your “music teacher” finally plays you instead of playing the piano (idk it sounds very weird when I wrote it down)

warnings smut, french petname (Mon bébé = My baby), cockwarming, squirting, sex on a piano,...

author note as much as I would've wanted to write for my little Vettel series (believe me, I did work on it, and Chapter 2 it’s almost done, I just need to figure some teeny, tiny details more) BUT I kinda have charles obsession NOW??? like if people requested imagines for him, I'D WRITE IT…

edit #1 THE NEW CHAPTER OF LITTLE VETTEL IS OUT

You loved Charles’s fingers. You loved watching them dance on the keys of the Steinways & Sons piano that he so loved to play; loved watching the way they stretched to reach octaves and certain notes; also the same fingers that were holding on to the steering wheel so tight each time he was in a race; and the same of those holding your hands almost everyday. You loved the glint of his rings as his hands glided across the notes, playing a song that had you almost completely at peace if not for his cock stretching you open.

It all started innocently when he said that he wanted to teach you some basics about piano, and so you were sitting in his lap while his hands guide you through each keys. And just like that in a heated moment, you now were straddling Charles, legs dangling over the back of the piano stool, head tucked against his chest. One ear listened to the steady beat of his heart as the other listened to the steady melody created by his skilled fingers.

With every tap of his shoes on the pedals, his cock would be driven further into you before falling back to its original place, the ridge of the leaking head catching at just the spot that had you moaning in time with the extended notes.

Your fingers traced shapes in his back, random shapes and words that the song he wrote inspired, your mouth occasionally dropping kisses on his neck and chest, wherever you could reach really.

You brought your legs up, locking your ankles around his back when you wanted more. The new position drove him further into your tight heat but even as you moaned and clenched tightly around him, his fingers never lost their rhythm; the notes still falling perfectly in time with the sheet music in front of him, feet still pressing the pedals at the correct timing.

If it wasn’t for the tiny crease in between his eyes, you wouldn’t have even thought he was affected at all. But you supposed, no matter how lost he was in his playing, it wasn’t as if he could ignore your slick running down your legs and onto the towel below (to protect his expensive leather seats), or the way you folds would flutter every time he hit a particular string of notes.

But for now you were content.

Content to be filled wholly by him.

Every inch of your skin was covered by his own, his heartbeat loud and clear in your ears; complementing his music.

His cock filled you to the brim, keeping you warm and filled in a way you knew you could never explain.

He brought you all the comfort you would ever need; filling you up in all the empty places you used to have; making the absence of him an absence of yourself.

You stayed curled around him as he lost himself in his music and in you; content to let him play until his heart was full before laying you across the expensive instrument and fucking you the way he knew best.

As the song comes to an end, your body and his became increasingly intertwined. Your breath hitched as he now slowly moves inside you, your hands gripping tighter onto his broad back and shoulders as both bodies stay connected. The intensity of each movements, all made you feel so alive.

The pleasure was almost unbearable, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he reached his peak, his fingers now digging into your skin. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight," he groaned, his words barely audible as he continued to move inside you, prolonging your pleasure.

Your nails dug into his back as you reached your own climax, the intensity of it all almost too much to handle. He smirked as he felt you tighten around him, your moans growing louder. "That's it, let go for me, Mon bébé" he whispered in your ear, his voice dripping with desire. You shuddered as he continued to move inside you, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure from your body. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as you rode out the waves of your orgasm.

He let out a low growl as he finally released himself inside you, his hips still moving against yours as he rode out his own climax. He collapsed onto you, his body slick with sweat and his breath warm against your neck. "Fuck, that was amazing," he murmured, nuzzling your neck as he caught his breath. "You're incredible." You smiled, your fingers tracing patterns on his back as you both enjoyed the afterglow of your intense lovemaking. "I don't want to move," you whispered, feeling completely content in his arms.

After some time, he looked at you with a grin. "Feeling a bit adventurous?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "We could try out that new position I've been wanting to try." He picked you up effortlessly and placed you on top of the piano, his lips never leaving yours. He could hear the soft keys being pressed under your body, but it only added to the intensity and the thrill of the situation. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he explored your mouth with his. He leaned back slightly, breaking the kiss for a moment to look at you with a lustful gaze. His hands went down to your waist, tracing the curves and dips, driving you crazy with desire. His thumb teased the skin under your silk skirt, making you moan softly. "I want you, again” he whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with desire. "Right here, right now." His lips found yours again, his tongue exploring deeper as your bodies pressed closer together on the piano. His hands went to the buttons of your shirt, slowly undoing each one while his lips were back on yours, hungrily tasting and nibbling at your lips. His fingers slid under your bra, teasing your breast, making your back arch with pleasure. His lips trailed fire down your body, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. "Now, it's my turn to taste you, Mon bébé" he said, his voice full of desire as he helped you spread your legs. He dipped his head low, his breath hot against your skin as his mouth closed over your core. His tongue explored every inch of you, lapping at your folds and teasing your clit. He sucked and flicked at it, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He lifted his head, his lips wet with your juices. "You taste so fucking good," he growled before plunging his tongue back inside of you, his fingers replacing his tongue on your clit. He worked them in unison, driving you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

"Come for me, Mon bébé" he commanded, his voice rough and needy. He sucked hard on your clit as his fingers thrust deep inside of you, taking you over the edge. You screamed his name as waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body trembling and shaking.

Still in a daze from your intense orgasm, he stood and quickly removed his own clothes. His large, hard cock sprung free, the head already wet with his desire for you. He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing his cock against your slick entrance. "Are you ready for me?" Without waiting for your response, he thrust deep inside of you. It was a tight fit, the walls of your pussy stretching to accommodate him. He groaned, his head falling back as he began to move in and out of you with long, slow strokes. "Fuck…”

His hands gripped your hips as he picked up the pace, driving into you harder and faster. You could feel his cock swelling inside of you, the pleasure building deep within your core. Your legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper as you met his thrusts.

He bent his head, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking hard, his fingers pinching and rolling the other. His hips slapped against yours, the sound filling the room, altogether with the sound of the piano. You could tell he was close by the way he began to pant and moan. "Come for me," he growled, his teeth scraping against your sensitive nipple. His thrusts became erratic, his cock twitching inside of you. That was all it took to set you off, your orgasm crashing through you in waves of pleasure.

He groaned loudly as you tightened around him, his thrusts becoming desperate as he felt his own release racing through him. "Fuck, yes!" He shouted, slamming into you one last time before filling you with his hot cum. He pushed harder and faster, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing it in circles. He grinned down at you, his cock still hard and ready for more. "Again," he commanded, his voice low and commanding. It wasn't long before you screamed his name, your entire body shuddering as you squirted all over him.

He slowed down as he felt your orgasm subsiding, his lips finding yours in a tender, passionate kiss. "I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did," he whispered, pulling you into his arms.

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vivwritesfics · 10 months ago

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Hi, i wanna request about Lando being inlove with his PR manager and he saw her talking to another driver and he got jealous so he do anything in order for her to not even in the others presence and he always side eye the driver thanks.

this has been in my inbox for aaaages because idk what to do with it - but im giving it a try

Being Lando's pr manager wasn't the easiest job in the world. He was a young, hot, single man with a lot of fans. While most of the fans were great and, well, normal, there were some who loved to circulate rumours.

Especially about him.

The most recent rumour was somewhat well done. It had evidence to support it, and she would have believed it. If they didn't do one thing. If they didn't say he had claimed is name was Bob.

She knew Lando better than anyone. How do you think his social media makes him seem so likeable to relatable? It was all because of her. She was showing his most authentic self for his fans. So, she knew he would never refer to himself as Bob when flirting.

Putting out fires wasn't what she thought she was going to do being with her life, but she loved it.

Lando didn't, though. He didn't love that she was putting out his fires constantly. He didn't like how it made her look (even if she didn't take the rumours as a reflection of him).

Of course, he knew that it wasn't easy being his PR manager. But he never thought she'd jump ship. So why did he feel so much panic when she was talking to Charles? It wasn't even clear if she was talking about work, but Lando still let panic settle in his chest.

She wasn't going to leave her job, but Lando didn't know that. He went into a full blown panic mode and, suddenly, he was the cause of the rumours.

He was the reason she had a million fires a month to put out. He was the reason she was working so much overtime to try and maintain his relatable, boyish imagine that the fans loved.

He didn't realise how exhausting it was for her. Where she once loved her job, it was getting harder and harder, and she was so fucking tired.

If anything was going to make her quit her job, it was this.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader smut #lando norris x you #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader

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requiemforthepoets · 1 month ago

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en garde! 𖦹 CL16

PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x fencer!leclerc!reader , f1 grid x fencer!leclerc!reader

SUMMARY: charles had been asking you to teach him fencing, and you finally did.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: smau mixed with narrations, inconsistent photos, typos, not proofread, cursing, no use of y/n on the narrations, poorly google translated italian, and all photos are taken from pinterest

FACE CLAIMS: all from pinterest

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: it’s been a long time since i added a new fic to my leclerc!sister series, so here it is hehe sorry, i’ve yapped a LOT about fencing on the narration part, so pls forgive me 😭 i hope i didn’t bore you a lot with fencing stuff 😭 i’m also accepting request for this series (i’m running out on ideas lmao 🥲) but i hope that you’ll enjoy this one!

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, sofia_rossi, marcoromano.fencing, landonorris and 783,984 others

ynleclerc E' passato un po' di tempo, Italia 💘

view all 12,837 comments

charles_leclerc when are you coming home?

ynleclerc idk, why?

charles_leclerc are you serious right now 😐

ynleclerc what…🧍🏻‍♀️

charles_leclerc check my messages for once 😐

username1 OH HOW I MISSED YOU 😭

username2 the y/n drought has finally ended!!!! 😭

username3 MOTHER IS BACK, MOTHER HAS POSTED 😭🎉

landonorris thank god you’re alive. i thought you’re already dead somewhere 😔💔

ynleclerc bro what 😭

landonorris anyways, when will you teach me how to fence for a new quadrant yt vid

ynleclerc you sure you’re up for it? don’t want you poking yourself with the foil

landonorris 😠😠😠😠

sofia_rossi CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU NEXT WEEK!!

ynleclerc 🥰🥰🥰

username4 OUR FAV FENCING DUO IS GOING TO SEE EACH OTHER SOON??? OMG 😭❤️

francisca.cgomes you’re in italy and you didn’t even tell me? 😠

ynleclerc I FORGOT IM SORRY IM SORRY!! but hey, i’m italy 🥰 hangout soon?

francisca.cgomes of course!!! just text meeee!!

username5 SHE REMEMBERED HER PASSWORD 🥳

ynleclerc posted a story!

liked by charles_leclerc, sofia_rossi, yourbestfriend, francisca.cgomes, marcoromano.fencing and others

charles_leclerc when will you teach me fencing 😔

charles_leclerc can’t believe it’s so hard to schedule one with you 💔💔💔

charles_leclerc i need big brother privileges 💔

ynleclerc USHCJJSJD CHARLES 😭

ynleclerc i’ll be home by next week! (hopefully you’ll be home as well 🤥) damn, can’t believe our schedules never really align

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️❤️❤️

francisca.cgomes i’m free tomorrow!! how about we go out for brunch?

ynleclerc KIKAAAA!! yes yes, ofc! ❤️

francisca.cgomes YAY!!

username6 OUR FENCING DUO WILL BE REUNITED SOON 😭❤️

username7 oh we pray for times like this (you being active on ig 😔💔)

MONACO

The sound of clashing blades echoed through the halls of the Club d’Escrime, a backdrop to your training session with Marco, your Italian coach. Fully suited in your white fencing uniform, mask tucked under your arm, you watched the double doors open, revealing your brother, Charles and his videographer, Antoine. The latter already had his camera rolling, and Charles, in his usual casual style—jeans, a dark hoodie, and white sneakers, looking like he had just stepped off a magazine cover.

“Finally!” You said, walking towards them with a smile. “Thought you’d never make it.”

Charles chuckled, spreading his arms in mock exasperation. “Don’t start! You’re the one who’s always impossible to catch. What is it this week? Tokyo? Budapest?”

“Home, for once,” you replied with a laugh, gesturing around the salle. “But that’s rare, as you know.”

“The place is very stunning,” Charles said, as he marveled the interior of the salle. “So this is where gold medals are made?” He teased.

“Something like that,” you replied, your voice light with pride. “Though Marco here deserves half the credit.”

“Ah, Charles! Finalmente ci incontriamo,” Marco greeted, shaking Charles’ hand firmly. His thick Italian accent added a charm to his words. “Your sister talks about you a lot.”

“È un piacere finalmente conoscerti. Lei non parla mai di me quando vinco, però.” He joked, shooting a playful look your way.

“Not true, and you know it.” You rolled your eyes at the comment.

Marco laughed, patting Charles on the shoulder. “Well today, we’ll see if athletic talent runs in the family, sì?”

“Okay, so here we are at the Club d’Escrime in Monaco. This is where my sister trains—when she’s not winning Olympic gold, of course,” he said grinning at you and turning towards the camera.

“We’ve been planning this fencing lesson for many months now, but with her busy training schedule and my racing calendar, it’s been almost impossible to find a day that worked for both of us. So finally, today is the day!” Charles added.

“Did you mention how excited you’ve been?” You quipped, folding your arms.

Charles smirked. “I may have. But, let’s be honest, you’re probably more nervous than I am.”

“Nervous?” You scoffed. “Why would I be nervous? You’re the one holding a weapon for the first time.”

“Ah, but I’ve seen the movies,” he countered, mimicking a clumsy lunge. “How hard can it be?”

You laughed at his theatrics, shaking your head. “We’ll see how long that confidence lasts when Marco puts you through the warm-up.”

“Speaking of which,” Marco interjected, “shall we start soon? Time is short, and I want to see if he can last more than five minutes.”

“You’re in for a workout.” You teased and smiled.

Charles gave an exaggerated sigh but could not hide his amusement. “Great. I love being underestimated.”

“You’re about to learn that fencing isn't as easy as people make it look on TV.” You smiled at the camera.

“Or tiktok.” Charles quipped, earning a chuckle from Marco.

You gestured towards the piste. “Alright, let’s get you geared up. I don’t want to hear any excuses later.”

Once Charles was all suited up, he stepped onto the piste, fully suited in his borrowed fencing gear, and you couldn’t help but pause. There was something striking about the way the jacket, breeches, and long socks suited him. The silver sheen of the lamé, a metallic vest worn over the jacket for scoring, added an almost regal touch. You smirked as you took in the sight of your brother adjusting his gloves.

“Oh my god. I’ve never looked so good.” Charles said as he came out all suited up.

“Would you look at that,” you began, folding your arms. “Hate to admit it, but you look good. Maybe too good.”

Charles glanced up, clearly amused. “Oh? Surprised your brother cleans up well?”

“I’m just saying, if this racing thing doesn’t work out, you might have a future as a fencer. Imagine, Charles Leclerc, Olympic Champion.” You gave him an exaggerated once-over. “The gear suits you.”

“I mean, I do look the part.” He smiled, striking a mock fencing pose, which was more comedic than impressive.

“You do,” you admitted with a laugh. “But let’s see if you can move like a fencer before you start planning your second career.”

“Basta con i complimenti. Time for the warm-up! No excuses later when your legs start complaining.” Marco smiled.

Charles groaned playfully, shooting you a mock glare. “Leg day already gets me in the gym. Don’t let him overdo it.”

“Stop whining,” you teased, motioning for him to follow Marco. “You’ll thank him when you’re not limping tomorrow.”

“We begin easy,” he said, demonstrating a forward bend. “Touch your toes, Charles. Keep your legs straight.”

“Easy for you to say,” he muttered, glancing at Marco, who was effortlessly folding himself in half.

“Come on, Charlie. You can’t lose to a guy twenty years older than you.” You chuckled from the sidelines, standing near Antoine, who was filming the entire thing.

“Thanks for the encouragement,” Charles quipped, finally managing to graze his toes. “I see you’re enjoying this too much.”

“I am.” You admitted, voice light with laughter.

Next were lunges, which Charles did with ease, his form surprisingly precise. “Now these, I can handle. We do this in the gym all the time.”

“Good. Now arm extensions, long and controlled. Think of reaching for the target.” Charles mirrored Marco’s movements, extending his arms fluidly.

You couldn’t resist teasing, “not bad, Charles. Maybe you’re a natural after all.”

“Maybe I am,” he replied, smirking. “See? I’ve got this.”

“Next is jumping jacks,” Marco interrupted, clearly amused by your banter.

Charles transitioned smoothly into the exercise, his movements energetic and practiced. As he worked through the routine, Charles suddenly turned to you, his tone curious.

“Why don’t we ever train together? Seems like it could be fun.” Charles glanced at you.

“Because you’d complain the whole time.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“Hey, I don’t complain that much.” He argued, clearly offended.

You just laughed at him, waving a hand dismissively. “Fencing is my thing, Charlie. I need to focus when I’m training, it’s not all fun and games.”

“And today isn’t serious?” Charles raised a brow, pausing mid-jumping jack.

“Not really,” you admitted with a shrug. “Today’s more about proving to you that fencing isn’t as easy as it looks.”

“Good luck with that,” he said, clearly amused. “You forget who you’re talking to.”

“Charles,” Marco interjected, a mischievous glint in his eye, “your sister has a gold medal, she might surprise you.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he said sincerely, before his grin returned. “But I’m still confident I can keep up.”

“That’s the spirit!” You smiled.

”The floor is yours, campionessa.” Marco smiled as he stepped back, and gestured for you to take over.

“Alright,” you turned to Charles. “Let’s start with the basics. This is going to be your crash course in fencing, everything you need to know before you touch the blade.”

Antoine, still filming, zoomed in on Charles’ face as he nodded, looking serious. “I’m ready, let’s hear it.”

“Fencing is one of the oldest sports in the world. It dates back centuries, originally used in dueling and combat training, but over time, it became more of a sport.” You explained. “In fact, fencing has been part of the Olympics since the very first modern games in 1896.”

“1896?” Charles repeated, very intrigued. “So, it’s been around forever.”

“Pretty much,” you confirmed with a smile. “Since then, it’s evolved into three distinct disciplines—foil, sabre, and epee. Each had different rules, strategies, and weapons. That’s what makes fencing so fascinating, you’re not just swinging a sword around. It’s a mind game as much as a physical one, that’s why some call it physical chess.”

Charles tilted his head, clearly interested. “What’s the difference between the three?”

“Come on, let me show you guys.” You walked over to a nearby rack, where several swords were neatly displayed, each one gleaming under the salle’s lights.

“This is a foil.” You picked up a foil, you held it up for him and the viewers to see. “It is the lightest of the three weapons, weighing about 500 grams, and the one I use. Foil fencing focuses on precision and technique, the target area is only the torso, and points are scored with the tip of the blade.”

Charles reached out, and you handed him the foil. He tested the weight of the blade, lifting and lowering it.

“It’s lighter than I thought.” He admitted, giving it a small swing.

“Foils are meant for agility and speed,” you explained. You then picked up a sabre, slightly heavier with a distinct curved guard. “This is a sabre. It’s a bit heavier, and the rules are very different. In sabre, you can score with the edge of the blade, not just the tip, and target area is the upper body—above the waist, including arms and head.”

“Sounds aggressive,” Charles remarked, running his hand along the blade’s flat edge.

“Oh, it is,” you chuckled. “Sabre is all about speed and attack. It’s fast-paced, almost like a sprint compared to foil’s more calculated, chess-like style.”

“And the last one?” Charles asked, pointing to the remaining weapon.

“This is the epee,” you said as you picked up the epee, handing it to him. “It’s the heaviest of the three, about 775 grams, and the target area is the entire body, head to toe. But in epee, there’s no right of way, whoever hits first, scores.”

Charles tested the epee in his grip, nodding thoughtfully. “So it’s more…straightforward?”

“In a way, yes,” you said, setting the sabre and foil back on the rack. “But it can also lead to longer matches since there’s no restriction on who can attack when, you need all the patience you can get when playing epee.”

The camera panned as you gestured for Charles to follow you back to the piste. “Now, let’s talk about the rules. In foil, which is what we’ll be learning today, the target area is just the torso. No arms, legs, and head. If you hit anywhere else, it doesn’t count.”

“Got it,” Charles said. “What about the scoring?”

“In foil, we use something called right of way. It means that the fencer who initiates the attack has priority. If the other fencer wants to score, they have to defend or parry first, and then counterattack.”

You picked up a foil and demonstrated, lunging forward in a quick, fluid motion. “For example, if I attack you like this, you can’t just hit me back. You’d need to block my blade first.”

“So, it’s not just about being faster, it’s about timing.” Charles frowned slightly, absorbing the information.

“Yup,” you said, impressed. “It’s about strategy and reading your opponent’s moves. Now, there are also some practical rules. The piste, the one we are standing on right now, is 14 meters long and 1.5 to 2 meters wide. If you step off, you lose ground or even a point, and you can’t use your off-hand to block, and obviously, no overly aggressive moves like charging into your opponent.”

Charles raised a brow. “No tackling allowed? Shame.”

“Not unless you want to get a penalty.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Lastly, to win a match, you have to reach a predetermined number of points, usually 15, or have the highest score by the end of the time limit.”

“Okay, I’ll give you a quick demonstration of how right of way works in a tournament.” You gestured for Marco to join you, and he grabbed another foil, stepping into position, as Antoine adjusted his camera as you stepped back onto the piste.

“Watch closely,” you instructed as you and Marco faced off. “Marco will attack, and I’ll defend and counter.”

Marco lunged forward with a smooth attack, and you parried, your blades clashing with a satisfying ring before you swiftly riposted, your blade landing lightly on his torso.

Turning to Charles, you explained. “Since I defended first and then countered, I get the point. Make sense?”

Charles nodded slowly, his brows furrowed in thought. “So, if I just swing wildly, it’s useless unless I have priority.”

“Yes,” you said smiling. “Fencing isn’t about brute force, it’s about control, precision, and strategy.”

“This all felt like a masterclass,” Charles chuckled. “This is very incredible stuff.”

Once Charles had a solid grasp of the basic rules and ths purpose of fencing, you decided it was time to get into the technical aspects.

“Alrighty,” you began, pacing in front of him, foil in hand. “Before you can start attacking, you need to learn how to defend yourself. So, let’s talk about parrying.”

“There are four primary parries in fencing, and each one is important for blocking and setting yourself up for a counterattack.” You added.

Charles nodded, gripping the foil in his hand as if ready to jump in. “Alright, I’m listening. Hit me with it.”

“Not literally,” you teased, pointing your foil at him briefly before continuing. “First is parry four. This is your standard parry, used to block attacks aimed at your torso. You bring the blade across your body like this.”

You demonstrated, twisting your wrist and angling your blade so that the imaginary opponent’s strike would be deflected away. Charles mimicked the movement, though his hand was stiff, and his blade angle slightly off.

You leaned in, using the tip of your foil to adjust his blade position. “Loosen your wrist a bit, it’s all about control, not brute strength. The goal is to guide their blade away, not smack it out of their hands.”

“Okay, okay. Got it.” Charles said, trying again. This time, his movement was smoother.

“Better,” you said, stepping back. “Next is parry six. The one is similar to parry four, but instead of protecting the inside of your body, it covers the outside. Like this.” You executed the parry with ease, your blade moving in a fluid arc.

Charles tried to copy the movement, his blade wobbling slightly as he adjusted his wrist.

“Close,” you said, stepping closer. “But watch your wrist, it needs to stay firm, or you’ll lose control of your blade.” You tapped the back of his hand with your foil, and he adjusted accordingly.

“Parry eight is for low attacks to the outside of your body.” You continued, moving on, and crouching slightly, angling your blade downward to demonstrate. “This one is a little tricky because it requires good reflexes. You’re aiming to protect your lower torso and legs.” Charles gave it a go, though his stance was a bit too wide.

“Too much space,” you said, tapping his knee lightly with your blade. “Keep your movements controlled. The smaller the motion, the quicker you can recover.”

“This is harder than it looks.” Charles exhaled, looking at the camera as he adjusted his stance.

“That’s fencing for you,” you said with a grin. “Last one, parry seven. This one is similar to parry eight, but it protects the inside of your body instead of the ourside.”

You demonstrated the motion, and Charles followed suit, this time managing a relatively smooth movement.

“Good,” you said, stepping back. “Now, key things to remember when parrying—keep your blade pointed at your opponent at all times. It’s not just about blocking, it’s about setting yourself up for a counterattack. As soon as you’ve parried, you need to riposte, counterattack, immediately. If you wait too long, you’ll lose your advantage.”

Marco stepped forward, foil in hand, and you turned to Charles. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

You squared off with Marco, and as he lunged forward with a mock attack, you parried effortlessly, your blade gliding against his and redirecting it away. In the same motion, you extended your arm, blade tip landing lightly on Marco’s torso.

“See how quick that was?” You said, turning to Charles. “It’s a fluid motion—parry and riposte, all in one go. No wasted movements.”

Charles nodded, his brows furrowed in concentration. “Alright, let me try.”

You stepped aside, letting Marco face Charles. As Marco slowly lunged, Charles attempted a parry, though his movement was slightly delayed, and his riposte lacked precision.

“Not bad,” you said encouragingly. “But don’t overthink it. The more natural it feels, the faster you’ll be.”

“Okay, let’s talk about stance,” you said, planting your feet firmly on the piste. “Your stance is your foundation, if it’s wrong, everything else falls apart.”

You demonstrated, keeping your feet shoulder-width apart, one foot pointing forward and the other at a slight angle.

“Your dominant hand is the one holding the foil. The non-dominant hand stays behind you, raised slightly for balance. So, which hand are you using?” You asked.

“Right.” Charles said, switching the foil to his dominant hand.

“Good,” you said. “Now, copy my stance.”

Charles mirrored your position, though his back foot was slightly out of place.

“Close, but—” you tapoed his leg lightly with your foil. “Your back foot needs to be at an angle, like this. Don’t forget to bend your knees slightly. You need to stay low for balance and quick movement.”

“Not bad,” you said, nodding approvingly when Charles adjusted his stance. “Now let’s work on movement. When you’re in your stance, you need to be able to move forward, backward, and side-to-side quickly withou losing your balance.”

You demonstrated, gliding forward and backward with small, controlled steps. “Notice how my feet stay the same distance apart, no matter where I go. That keeps me balanced and ready to attack or defend.”

Charles followed your lead, though his movements were a bit stiff.

“Relax,” you said, smiling. “You’re not marching in the military. It’s more like a dance, fluid and controlled.” He tried again, this time loosening up slightly.

“Better,” you said. “Now let’s add a lunge, the lunge is your main attacking move. From your stance, you push off your back leg and extend your front leg forward, like this.” You demonstrated, your movement smooth and precise. Charles attempted the motion, but his lunge was too short.

“Bigger step,” you said, tapping his front leg with your foil. “You want fo cover as much ground as possjble without overextending.” After a few tries, he managed a decent lunge.

“Not bad,” you said, stepping back. “You’re getting there. Now, let’s put it all together—stance, movement, parries, and lunges. You ready?”

Charles grinned, gripping his foil. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Alright,” you said, picking up the body cord, “before we start, we need to get you all hooked up.”

Charles tilted his head, examining the cord. “What’s that for?”

“This is a body cord,” you explained, stepping closer to attach it to his fencing jacket. “It connects your weapon to the scoring system. When you land a valid touch, the electrical circuit completes, and the scoreboard registers the point.”

“So no sneaky hits?” He joked, watching closely as you secured it to his back and guided it through the sleeves of his jacket to attach to the foil.

“Not unless you want the referee to see it light up,” you quipped, making sure everything was in place before handing him a fencing mask. “Here, put this on.”

“For this first round, we’re keeping it simple, call it a trial run,” you said, rolling your shoulders and flexing your foil. “Marco will referee and keep things light. Just focus on getting comfortable.”

“Got it. Don’t go easy on me, though.” Charles raised his foil slightly, his excitement evident in his stance.

You laughed. “Trut me, Charles, I won’t.”

Marco stepped onto the side of the piste, holding a referee’s clicked in one hand. “Alright, trial run. I’ll call the touches. En garde!”

You and Charles took your positions at opposite ends of the piste, foils raised in salite before dropping into the en garde stance.

“Prêt? Allez!” Marco called, signaling the start of the bout.

Charles moved hesitant at first, testing his footing as he advanced. You let him come forward, observing his movements.

“Don’t forget your stance,” you reminded him, stepping back slightly. “Stay balanced.”

He nodded, adjusting his feet, and made a tentative lunge. Charles’ foil grazed your blade, missing the target area entirely.

“Close,” you said, countering with a light touch to his torso. Marco raised his hand. “Touch!”

Charles shook his head, laughing. “Okay, that was fast. Was that even one second?”

“Welcome to fencing,” you said with a grin. “It’s all about timing. Relax, though you’re doing fine.”

As the trial run continued, Charles began finding his rhythm. He landed his first touch on your shoulder, earing a quick ‘touch!’ from Marco.

“How does it feel?” You asked, stepping back for a brief pause.

Charles grinned under his mask. “Not bad! Are you nervous yet?”

“Me? Nervous?” You teased. “Cute. Let’s see how you handle the next round round.”

The second round began, and Charles was much more deliberate in his movements. He used the parries you had taught him, successfully blocking two of your attacks and landing another touch on your shoulder.

“Not bad, Lord Perceval,” you said, nodding as you reset your stance. “You’re learning quickly.”

“Of course,” he replied, his voice light with mock arrogance. “I’m a Leclerc. We adapt fast.”

By the end of the round, Marco called for a pause. “Alright, let’s use the scoreboard for the next one.”

“See this?” Marco said, pointing to the display. “Every valid touch will light up here with a beep. First to fifteen points wins.”

Charles noticed the screen, which displayed yor names, complete with small Monaco flags next to them.

“Wait, you personalized it?” He asked, laughing. “Now I feel like I’m in the Olympics.”

“Of course,” you said with a grin. “Nothing but the best for my big brother.”

Charles chuckled, lifting his foil again. As you adjusted your own, you bent the blade slightly, an action that caught his attention.

“Why are you doing that?” He asked.

“It’s something all fencers do,” you explained, holding the blade up for him to see. “Foils are flexible, and bending them ensures they’re in good condition and won’t snap. It also helps make the touches more accurate and less painful.”

“Huh,” Charles said, mimicking the motion with his own foil. “Interesting.”

“Alright, this is it,” you said, lowering your mask. “First to fifteen.”

Marco raised his hand. “En garde! Prêt? Allez!”

The boug began, and Charles quickly demonstrated his growing confidence. He moved fluidly, landing a few clean touches on your torso and arm. You could see his competitiveness kicking in, and you responded with sharper attacks, forcing him to parry and riposte.

Halfway through, the score was tied at 7-7, and the beeping sound of the scoreboard filled the room with each touch.

“You’re doing great.” You said during a brief pause.

“Thanks,” Charles replied, panting slightly. “But I’m not letting you win.”

“Good,” you said, resetting your stance. “Because I’m not letting you win, either.”

The intensity ramped up in the final stretch. Charles managed to land three more touches, bringing his total to ten, but you quickly countered with a series of precise attacks, pushing your score to fifteen.

Marco raised his hand as the final beep sounded. “Touché! Match for her—15 to 10!”

“Lifting your mask, you grinned at Charles, who pulled off his own mask, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That was incredible,” he said, still catching his breath. “I actually thought I had you for a moment there.”

“Well fought, champ! Ten points is impressive for a first timer, you did really great.” You said, resting your foil on your shoulder. “But I told you, fencing isn’t easy as it looks.”

Charles laughed, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Yeah, no kidding. I think I’ll stick to racing.”

Marco, who had been observing with a smile, stepped in. “You were actually good for a beginner. You’re a fast learner, Charles. I’ve work with a lot of first-timers, and not many can pick up that quickly.”

“That’s true,” you chimed in nodding. “You were way better than I expected. Usually, people take ages to figure out how to lunge properly or keep their stance balanced.”

Charles’ grin widened. “Well, what can I say? It’s in my blood to be competitive.”

Marco laughed, clapping Charles on the shoulder. “You should come by more often during her trainings. You’d make a good parry partner.”

“Oh stop feeding his ego,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “It’s already huge.”

Charles gave a mock bow. “Keep it coming, Marco. I’m soaking it all in.”

Marco just smiled as the camera zoomed in on you both as he continued. “Not, really, Charles. If you’re free diring off-season, you should consider it. You’d give her a good challenge, and it would keep her on her toes.”

“Hmm…” Charles leaned on his foil again, pretending to consider the offer. “Fencing during off-season. I might actually think about that.”

You laughed. “Sure, if you can handle beaten every time.”

“Bold words. But we’ll see.” Charles grinned. “So, what’s next for you? You’ve already won the Olympics. Where do you go from here?”

“Next up is the Fencing World Cup. It’s coming up in a few months, so I’m focused on preparing for that.” You smiled, feeling the excitement bubbling inside of you.

Charles nodded. “If people want fo follow your journey, where can they find you?”

“Everywhere.” You said with a laugh, then added, “but seriously, you guys can follow me on my social media. If you are curious about up coming tournaments, you can check out Team Monaco’s offical instagram. They post all of the updates there.”

Charles turned to the camera. “There you have it, guys.” He then faced you and Marco. “I just want to say thank you, for real. I know your schedules are crazy, and you took time to teach me something completely out of my comfort zone. I really had fun.”

“You’re welcome here anytime, Charles.” Marco smiled warmly. “You’re a natural. Who knows? Maybe one day, you’ll be on the piste at a tournament.”

Charles laughed, shaking his head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“You did great today,” you grinned, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll see you fencing for Monaco one day.”

Charles smiled. “Only if you promise not to embarrass me in front of everyone.”

“No promises.” You teased.

Marco gestured toward the camera. “Alright, shall we wrap this up?”

You, Charles, and Marco all faced the lens. “Thanks for watching!” You said with a wave. “Remember, fencing is cooler than you think.”

“And harder than it looks!” Charles added. “Thank you both for taking the time to teach me, I had a blast today. It’s always fun learning new things.”

“Of course, Charlie!” You replied warmly. “We’ll be waiting for your next fencing session.”

“You’re always welcome, Charles.” Marco smiled. “Just don’t take too long to return, alright? We might have to recruit you into the team at this rate!”

All of you laughed as you said your goodbyes, and with that, the video came to a close, screen fading into black.

twitter posts

yn.jpg

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, lilyzneimer, landonorris, lilymhe and 88,746 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, gaiusthecaracal

yn.jpg just a regular day at the office (bonus: taught charles fencing, see slide 4! 😁)

view all 10,837 comments

username8 never knew i needed to see charles in a fencing gear up until now 😮‍💨 THANK YOU MOTHER!

landonorris can’t believe you taught charles first, i thought i was gonna be the first one 😞💔

yn.jpg sorry, big brother privileges 😔✊🏻

charles_leclerc what she said! 😁❤️

landonorris i see that you have taken my advice

yn.jpg yes, and i owe it all to you sir 🫡

landonorris when will u be our quadrant athlete 😔🤲🏻

yn.jpg idk bro, what do they do? 🤨

yn.jpg just hit up my personal coach 😁

landonorris ME NEXT PLS

yn.jpg THERE ARE A LOT OF YOU WANTING ME TO TEACH YOU ALL FENCING 😭😭😭

lilymhe I ASKED HER FIRST! FALL IN LINE!!

landonorris IM HER BEST FRIEND

landonorris BESTIE PRIVILEGES

yourbestfriend EXCUSE ME????

landonorris EXCUSED

username9 WE FINALLY GOT A JPG ACCOUNT??? ACTIVE ERA IS UPON US?????

yn.jpg u guys really gotta thank lando for convincing me on making one bc apparently according to him, i always “ghost” you all 😞💔

username9 OHMGYGOSD I LOVE YOU 😭

username10 GAIUS 🥺🥺🥺🥺

username11 CHARLES WHAT ARE YOU DOING 😭😭😭

username12 petition for you to have a yt acc or tiktok or smth 😔😔😔😔

username13 and then what? we all ended up being ghosted 😔😔😔😔

username13 she barely posts on instagram, and now that she has a jpg account, i’ll take what i can get tl have some y/n content 😔😔😔💔💔💔

username12 omg u right 😭😭😭

username14 ok, scuderiaferrari, just hear me out this once…what if y/n teaches charlos fencing on a tiktok or yt vid? huh huh huh, wouldn’t that be a great idea, right? 😁

scuderiaferrari hmmm, i think you might be onto something 🤔🤔🤔

username15 i will sacrifice my first born for this to happen 🤲🏻

username16 we are BEGGING, on our knees

username17 charles leclerc in fencing gear, save me. charles leclerc in fencing gear, save me 🛐

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arkhammaid · 11 months ago

Text

— ˚₊‧⁺˖THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE GRID'S REACTION

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. the grid reacts to the news!

content warnings. some drivers are acting like assholes, some cursewords, 23!grid

notes. have another reaction chapter hehe

daniel ricciardo Guys

Guys wake up

IT'S IMPORTANT

lando norris ???

daniel it's 5am, why are you spamming rn

carlos sainz It's summer break, why can't you all shut up for once

daniel ricciardo Did no one see the news? Stark is coming to F1

carlos sainz To a race?

daniel ricciardo No you shithead, he's making a team

charles leclerc !!!!

lando norris at this point you'll never win monaco (because once stark joins, there no longer will BE monaco) charles leclerc Fuck you, nowins

daniel ricciardo This is serious... Tony fucking Stark wants to create an F1 team for the next season. @/max verstappen your winning streak will be over

charles leclerc Next season??? I thought for 26?

lewis hamilton Of course he would do that

charles leclerc Lewis, explain?? daniel ricciardo Yeah Lewis, please explain?

lewis hamilton Did any of you ever meet Tony? He will probably see the next season as test for the 2026 season. To train his mechanics and engineers and go all out. I bet many are saying it's a waste of money

carlos sainz It is a waste of money.

daniel ricciardo Yeah, they do. Reactions vary but 'experts' are saying that Tony is just wasting his time and should properly prepare for 26

lewis hamilton Knowing him, he already has a fully built car for 2026 and it's a beast.

fernando alonso Only the best for his daughter!

charles leclerc What. lando norris wdym his daughter??

george russell Why are you all awake at this bloody hour?

kevin magnussen Read the room. Everyone is in schock.

sergio perez Stupid. She will fail like every woman in motorsport with a rich father. Too dramatic.

lando norris i'm still confused???

oscar piastri Tony Stark has three children. Harley Keener-Stark, Y/n L/n-Stark, Peter Parker-Stark. Y/n is his only biological child and currently racing in Formula 3. She won Formula 4 last year.

charles leclerc I thought he only had sons?? When did Y/n appear? oscar piastri She 'appeared' the first time in January this year as Tony's daughter, no one knew before. lando norris how did you know? oscar piastri Google exists.

carlos sainz So daddy's money... great.

max verstappen I swear to god I will leave this chat the next time you all decide to fucking gossip at 6am like old women

daniel ricciardo It's important news!

max verstappen No it's not. Stark will be in F1 for a few years maximum and then leave again. It will pass

daniel ricciardo @/lewis hamilton you here? Don't you have anything else to add??

Fine, I'll guess I just ask the rest of the grid, you fucking bore.

daniel ricciardo @/everyone wakey wakey, it's time to wake up and talk!

mick schumacher Daniel? What's up?

george russell Ignore him. He has been annoying us because Tony Stark is coming to F1 and no one really cares. charles leclerc Lies and slander! I care!! lando norris yeah! me as well, idk what you're yapping abt

carlos sainz It's bullshit.

arthur leclerc Why do I have a bad feeling about Monaco...

ollie bearman THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN THINKING bianca bustamante It will be something for sure

lance stroll Well, I'm just happy to see another friendly face at the paddock :)

carlos sainz Of course you know Stark.

lance stroll You're just jealous esteban ocon As am I??? I'm your best friend AND MY BEST FRIEND HAS THE POTENTIAL OF KNOWING SPIDER-MAN???? AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME???????

daniel ricciardo I want everyone who knows anything related to Stark to immediately share with us because Lewis is ignoring me and I need to know. The only info we have right now, is that Stark will make a F1 team and that's it. I refuse to believe that's it. So, @/mick schumacher @/lance stroll spill the beans.

mick schumacher He didn't say anything last time I saw him, so I can't help you much.

lance stroll I know nothing, ask my dad.

daniel ricciardo I don't believe you.

pato o'ward If they say they don't know anything, then they don't? I don't know what's the problem, just wait for the next press release

max verstappen Do you even know Daniel. He's unable to wait for gossip. And he classifies this as gossip

daniel ricciardo Gee, thanks, feeling the love here

nico hülkenberg I wake up to 100+ notifications, why are you all like this?

kevin magnussen They're all idiots.

kevin magnussen @/tony stark could you please speed up with the press release? Daniel is setting all grid chats on fire and it's not funny anymore.

y/n stark ha, weak ass bitch kevin magnussen Watch your mouth missy

tony stark Should I tag Seb in a Tweet to announce it?

peter stark do it y/n stark do it harley stark do it

pepper potts-stark Don't do it. We will proceed with the plan. No matter how annoying the people in your private life are.

kevin magnussen Yes, ma'am, sorry for asking.

sebastian vettel I deserve more than a Tweet at 10am.

y/n stark speak your truth king peter stark sorry for suggesting otherwise (@/yn stark stop being such an attention seeker, we all know seb loves charles the most) y/n stark but charles is not here rn is he?

daniel ricciardo @/kevin magnussen EXPLAIN YOURSELF?!

carlos sainz What is going on now...

charles leclerc KMAG FOR STARK???? I didn't put this on my bingo card, now I lost 100 bucks. Fuck you Kevin

arthur leclerc Pay up bitch

oscar piastri Well done, man

nico hülkenberg And so he leaves he burning, ever sinking ship... the true hero- sorry, I meant coward

daniel ricciardo @/kevin magnussen I KNOW YOU'RE ONLINE YOU COWARD, COME HERE

I just want to talk to you

kevin magnussen No.

*kevin magnussen has left the chat*

fernando alonso There is your answer

several people are typing...

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel, @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @minkyungseokie , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles, @fangirl-dot-com , @nichmeddar , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora, @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozarts , @leclucklerc , @yl90

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 scenario #f1 x female reader #f1 female driver #fem!driver #female driver #kevin magnussen x reader #tony stark x reader #peter parker x reader #harley keener x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #f1 imagine #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ lightning on track

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loquarocoeur · 4 months ago

Note

PLEASE make a list. For research purposes ofc🫶 (to further my obsession with yoursverse lestappen)

Sighs dreamily

Just off the top of my head this morning, I'll say some Max-isms that Charles finds cute are:

• Smacking/kicking/elbowing Charles every two minutes when Charles says something stupid, but it's so gentle it wouldn't hurt a fly

• Him saying 'Charles' at the end of every second sentence for no reason other than just to say it

• His lying voice

• His 'I'm so done with Charles' voice

• His embarrassed voice

• His voice in general

• The way he says his S's and T's and R's

• How much of a typical boy Max is

• Him being obsessed with video games

• Him checking out his own biceps in mirrors when he thinks Charles can't see him

• Him not knowing how to decorate/interior design to save his life

• Him not being able to put together a decent outfit that isn't red bull shirt and jeans to save his life

• Him not knowing what SPF is and not believing in skin care and hair routines even though he lets Charles do it for him and hasn't bought 2 in 1 again

• His wrinkly forehead when he's confused

• The crinkles at the corners of his eyes!!!

• His beauty spots, especially the top lip one

• His tendency to speak before he thinks, so even if his face wasn't expressive enough to be an open book Charles hardly ever has to wonder what he's feeling

• His tendency to hide his face in his hands when he's laughing

• Also his tendency to hide his face in whatever part of Charles he can reach when he's embarrassed

• Or how he sometimes just smacks his forehead into Charles' shoulder when he's done with Charles' antics, but he'll let them happen anyway

• Max's talent for finding things in life to be mad about

• How much Max laughs and smiles without even noticing

• How much Max is obsessed with kinder chocolates, tomato soup and carpaccio, like he will eat anything, but it's like his eyes are magnetically locked onto tomato soup and carpaccio on the menu at literally every restaurant, you can physically see when Max found it as an option and there's no hope of him eating anything else

• His love/need for forehead kisses

• The override button he has for being embarrassed to talk about his feelings whenever Charles is even the tiniest bit upset

• All the ways he tries to coax the cats into giving him attention when they just want to live their lives

• His insistence that Leo is Charles' dog and Charles' responsibility, but he keeps finding Max cuddling him where he thought Charles wouldn't catch him or teaching him new tricks which isn't working because Charles is feeding all the pets too many treats for them to still work as a reward system

• His panic response when Charles starts crying for literally any reason including sad movies, honestly even happy ending movies, any kind of tears just give him a panic oh god how do i fix it response

• Max always feeling the need to explain to Charles again that he does hate the crying, but he also doesn't want Charles not to cry because he's allowed to have all his feelings

• T-Rex typing

• His innocent look when he's trying to pretend he has no idea what Charles is talking about when he wants to start a conversation Max won't like

• The thin layer of fat Max never loses over his stomach. He likes it especially in the off season when Max gets to eat lots of chocolates and things

Idk, there are probably loads more, maybe I'll keep a list in my notes app

#asks #yours verse #lestappen #max verstappen #yours verse yapping

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itsjustaninchident · 1 year ago

Text

Tolerate It

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

summary: Y/N cries almost about everything but don't worry Charles is there, ready to wipe her tears away.

warning/s: angst???? and fluff

author's note: idk if i gave this justice, this is like a spur of the moment thing.

Y/N is definitely an empath, she sees stray cats and dogs on the street? she'll pet and cry for them, if only she could take all of them home. Old people alone? Bawl her eyes out. Kids that ask for money on the streets? Think how life must've treated them.

But at least she has a boyfriend to run to when it gets too hard for her, to breathe while she cries her heart out. Arms ready for her to run to and his shirt ready to get soaked by her salty tears. Must've been the reason she's made it to (your age), she has a comforting boyfriend who never found it weird she cries at all the most mundane things.

She's watching a sad movie? Don't worry Charles is there to give her tissues and feed her ice cream. "You've watched this a hundred times but never fail to cry as hard as the last time you've watched it. Nonetheless, you're adorable so you get a pass." And that would put a smile on her while Charles dry her tears and kiss her softly on her nose.

She listens to songs and suddenly a cute/angsty/happy lyric comes on? He'll rub her back and hug her through it. "It's okay, Love. Taylor Swift was probably chilling while she writes 'I know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it.'" Charles tries to convince her while she cries harder upon hearing the lyrics, "Okay, I am sorry. I probably shouldn't sing anymore." Which cut her crying session with a meek laugh bubbling her throat. "There's your pretty smile." He utters with full adoration. He probably still finds her gorgeous even when she's breaking down, Charles will find her pretty as much.

She stumbles upon a sad and tragic couple's story on tiktok whom she's never met in real life? Charles is right there to assure her it won't happen to them. "It was probably orchestrated, you know. Besides, we're like the perfect pair and I couldn't ask for more." He assures her rubbing circles on her back as she lay down on his chest, content to hear how his heart beats for her.

And that's what makes them a perfect couple, he was always there in her 'ugly crying' days, always ready to wipe her tears, always ready to give her comforting words "It's okay, mon cheri. I am here. I'll always love you." He says in the softest voice and all her tears will dry and a smile will shine on her face again. And just like that all her worries will fade, all the sad things she's thought of are fading into the background as if she never thought of it at all. She was able to get through the bad and sad days with him by her side, ready to wipe the tears and put a smile on her face.

She was so used to him being there for her that when he’s no longer present, she feels a hole in her heart. There's no one to wipe the tears away rather the one she's crying for, no one making her laugh to ease the pain instead he's the reason for the pain, no one to run to when she's sad because the slightest thought of him makes her miserable already, how will she recover now when the person who takes away her sadness is now the reason why she's sad?

please I would love to hear a feedback about this one, it's like a first for me to write something so angsty????? I hate angst so I am sorry if I made u believe it will all be alright all along..... Anyway please do some request because request box is open!!! hehe happy holidays

#fluff #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #angst #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst

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maplesyrupsainz · 1 year ago

Text

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙coz i cant sleep in hotel rooms | CL16˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: charles leclerc x singer y/n reader (she/her)

genre: social media au, established relationship, relationship on the rocks

warnings: mentions of substances, a sad one sorryy tehe

summary: in which break up rumours circulate during a rough patch in their relationship

a/n: hii i feel like i could do a part 2 to this coz i cant leave my y/n like this

song

fc: holly humberstone

my masterlist

part 2!!!

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by oliviarodrigo, arthur_leclerc, and 50,219 others

yourusername solitude 🧘‍♀️

view all 7,183 comments

user1 IS THAT SONG LYRICS?

user2 is everything ok at home y/n lol

arthur_leclerc ❤️

liked by yourusername

user3 where is charles 😭

lilymhe missing your pretty face

yourusername miss you so so much

user4 mom where's dad

twitter ->

instagram ->

ynupdates

liked by user5, user2, and 9,938 others

ynupdates following an instagram post and tweet from y/n's own accounts along with no sightings together for 2 weeks, it's rumoured that y/n and boyfriend of 2 years f1 driver charles leclerc have split. sources close to the couple speculate it is due to their conflicting schedules which has put a strain on the relationship. we are sending our y/n/n all the love in the world right now ❤️‍🩹

view all 4,583 comments

user8 there's no way

user9 well at least the album is going to slap..

user10 I AM A CHILD OF DIVORCE

user11 i wont believe it until it's confirmed. it is so disrespectful to speculate on ppls private lives like this

user12 i feel like if he really loved her then conflicting schedules wouldnt matter 😕

user13 hit me right in the parasocial relationship

user14 everybodys up and left & i can barely catch my breath 😭😭

user15 this city's fine but im eternally unsatisfied 😭😭

yourusername

liked by lilymhe, yourbff, and 42,839 others

yourusername a couple more tequilas n i'll tell u how im feelin

tagged: yourbff, lilymhe

view all 5,384 comments

lilymhe love having fun with u

yourusername ty for cheering me up🥹

user16 the overkill lyric im not crying u are

arthur_leclerc dont think u need any more tequila

lilymhe let my girl live!

yourusername leclerc men love telling me what to do !

user17 IS THAT SHADE

yourbff i love u my girl foreverrr ♾️

yourusername i love u more my dearest 💗

twitter ->

instagram ->

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly, and 698,383 others

charles_leclerc ☔️

tagged: arthur_leclerc

view all 8,945 comments

pierregasly where have u been that it's raining

charles_leclerc well london of course

user20 LONDON?? visiting y/n??

arthur_leclerc very cool very aesthetic

charles_leclerc well of course this is my instagram isnt it

user21 good luck in the next race charles ❤️❤️

user22 where's y/n

user23 blink twice if u need help

yourusername posted a story

liked by yourbff, lilymhe, landonorris, and 4,385 others

yourbff is everything ok?

yourusername jus going thru something 🤔

yourbff i noticed

lilymhe u will be ok

yourusername i will but what about us

yourusername

liked by oliviarodrigo, billieeilish, and 76,385 others

yourusername my song ‘ghost me’ is available to stream now on all platforms. i hope u like it ❤️

view all 6,183 comments

lilymhe i would never ghost u 👻

liked by yourusername

yourbff this 1 hurt i cant lie

landonorris beautiful as ever

user24 lando shooting his shot

pierregasly you are so talented y/n 🤍

user25 if u try to ghost me & quit being in my life dont u dare 😭😭

user26 kinda thought that i could handle the distance 😭😭

user27 if this isnt referencing her & charles living in different countries then idk

charles_leclerc ❤️

comment deleted by charles_leclerc

user28 did anyone else see that

messages ->

instagram ->

ynupdates

liked by user18, charles_leclerc, and 3,102 others

ynupdates y/n spotted at the airport in the early hours of the morning!

tagged: yourusername

view all 895 comments

user29 omg do u think she could be travelling to monaco for the gp this weekend??

ynupdates 🤞🤞

user30 CHARLES LIKED????

user31 charles liking this oh she is definitely going to monaco to see him

user32 this gives me hope😭

user33 my parents are still together my parents are still together my parents are still together

user34 did anyone talk to her??

ynupdates apparently she was in a rush & had a covid mask covering most of her face

yourusername

liked by landonorris, lilymhe, and 35,538 others

yourusername ✈️ ...

tagged: lilymhe, yourbff

view all 2,471 comments

yourbff im so giddy

yourusername u love being dragged around the world by me

yourbff so fr i do

lilymhe my best girls in the world!!

yourusername i am so glad to have met u

user35 i love their friendship

user36 y/n are you in monaco for the gp🥹

user37 she would never miss charles' home race imo

user38 ur glowing y/n 🫶

f1wagupdates

liked by user12, user32, and 5,933 others

f1wagupdates ferrari driver charles leclerc & long term musician girlfriend y/n y/l/n seen outside a restaurant tonight arguing. their relationship has been rumoured to be on the rocks recently – is this the end for them? source says they couldn't hear the entire conversation but heard snippets, click the link in our bio for all information.

tagged: yourusername, charles_leclerc

view all 1,843 comments

user39 this is so disrespectful

oliviarodrigo give them some privacy jesus christ

user40 omg hi olivia

user41 y/n was overheard saying she cant do it anymore 😭😭

user42 my heart is breaking for y/n omg poor girl has always said in interviews that she didn't even want to date long distance but charles made her fall for him 😭😭

user43 omg dont remind me i feel so sick :((

twitter ->

instagram ->

f1updates

liked by user32, user21, and 5,495 others

f1updates ferrari driver charles leclerc has crashed during the monaco grand prix today and has been rushed to seek medical attention. unfortunately no updates at this time.

tagged: charles_leclerc

view all 2,953 comments

user48 WHAT OH MY GOD

user49 omg sending my thoughts & prayers :((

user50 😮 i wonder if y/n is with him

user51 it's not about her rn..

user52 poor charles he was racing so well too😭

user53 omg it looked soo terrifying

messages ->

instagram ->

f1wagupdates

liked by user16, user38, and 2,584 others

f1wagupdates y/n y/l/n seen fleeing paparazzi following (ex?) boyfriend charles leclerc's crash in the monaco grand prix. is this the final nail in the coffin for this relationship?

tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername

comments have been limited on this post

THE END ❤️

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chrisevansonly · 1 year ago

Text

𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: charles leclerc x female reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: life is too heavy to carry, thankfully your boyfriend will carry it with you

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: talks of mental health and suicidal thoughts, mentions of depression, heavy topics so please read at your own discretion

𝐚/𝐧: i’ll be honest this is self indulgent and i know i said i wasn’t writing but idk i feel so low and thought writing about how im feeling might help? ive struggled with mental illness my whole life so i find writing it out in a way i can enjoy helps…i hope it helps others that are in need of it too<3

Life is painful, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, it’s dark and gloomy, heavy and hard to carry, life is painful. Okay well maybe not for everyone but for you it was, and it was draining, exhausting really trying to survive each day instead of living like everyone else. Truth be told you’d struggled with mental illness for as long as you can remember. In high school the suicidal thoughts came into play and you had fallen into a place no one deserved to fall.

You’d hear people tell you to smile, cheer up, get outside and take in the fresh air, but they don’t understand. They don’t get the internal pain one feels when they deal with depression and anxiety, unless you live it: you don’t get it.

So yes, life was painful but there was an ounce of sunshine in your life and it came in the form of Charles, your boyfriend of exactly three years. The man who broke through the storm to bring you blue skies and calm waters, the man who held you tightly as you cried for a break, aching for a moment of peace within yourself. Charles was a gift, you were sure of it: he was too.

“my love…?”

His voice was soft, delicate as it filtered through the dark bedroom, eyes filled with concern as he looked at you huddled under the blankets, almost willing them to swallow you whole

“hmm?”

It might not have been a word but Charles would take it

“can I get you anything? do you need something?”

The room fell silent again except for the sound of covers shifting, your head peaking over the duvet

“y-you please”

Hearing your voice break was enough for Charles to promptly move from his place in the doorway, lifting up the covers on his side of the bed before settling down and pulling you into his side, letting you virtually melt against him

“okay, okay i’m here, it’s okay amour..”

“it-it hurts”

“i know baby, i know it does…but it will only hurt for a little, i promise you.”

You wanted to believe him, you really did, but how many years would you have to suffer before it truly felt like you would never know how to feel okay.

“it’s hard to be here”

Now this caught Charles attention right away, having known your past with depression and even suicidal thoughts, he felt his blood run cold at the thought of you being anywhere than right here with him

“listen to me baby, i know it hurts, i know it’s hard, but i promise you i will help you find your sunshine, i will help you find your happiness”

He paused shifting to rest a hand on your cheek, his thumb swiping at a stray tear on your cheek

“i love you with everything in me, and i will do whatever i can to help you through this, if you need me to carry more of the weight, let me, if you need a shoulder to lean on more than usual, do it. you are my entire world baby, i won’t ever leave you out in the dark to take this on all on your own..”

Letting out a soft sniffle you looked up at him, always appreciating just how much love he held for you in his eyes alone

“why, i-i’m so sad a-all the time”

“because i love you. it doesn’t matter if your angry, happy, sad it’s part of you, i love all of you no matter what, and i am not going anywhere”

Charles leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead letting you have a minute to just digest everything he was saying

“pinky promise?” you asked softly, holding your pinky finger out which brought a soft smile to his face

“pinky promise baby, always.”

Nothing else needed to be said as you curled yourself further into his side, his arms only tightening on you, as if to keep you from slipping away from him. Charles knew words only helped so much, but he was willing to do whatever it took to bring you blue skies back. Even if it took days or weeks, even months, Charles was going to be right beside you, every step of the way.

Life might be painful, but you never had to go through it alone again.

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flemingsfreckles · 7 months ago

Text

Pretend We’re Good

Niamh Charles x Reader

Synopsis: based off this request!

Warnings: toxic behavior from both Niamh and Reader, suggestive at the end, fighting, angsty

WC: 3.3k

A/N: this is the first time I’ve written for someone other than Jessie, but I follow Niamh as a player so idk thought I’d give it a go.

Also shout out to whoever this anon was, this song is a banger and has found its way onto my driving to work playlist which I am extremely picky about, so thanks for the indirect song suggestion! 🫶

Seeing the match announcement was one thing, actually showing up and playing it was another.

Playing England was good preparation for the Olympics, they were a quality team, you knew that, but that meant you’d have to see Niamh. That meant you’d have to mark Niamh on the pitch. It meant you’d have to give her a silly handshake before the game and wish her good luck.

You and Niamh had a complicated history. You played at Liverpool together for a season before she left for Chelsea. You had always had a flirty friendship as teenagers but it never amounted to anything.

Then when she left for Chelsea, it broke your heart. Which made you realize how strong your feelings were for the girl, bawling when she said goodbye and then again at home in bed. For hours at a time you would remain motionless on your mattress, wishing she’d come back. You had been a mess for a couple weeks not knowing how to handle losing your best friend and the girl you had seemingly fallen in love with. The two of you kept in touch but it wasn’t comparable to seeing her everyday, to being her travel roommate, to being her bus buddy.

Then you got a call a season later. A call offering you a spot at Chelsea, you barely thought about it, the club's reputation, plus being back with Niamh, you easily said yes, signing your name on the line to become a blue.

Niamh was your first call, she was ecstatic about you joining the club. It didn’t take long for the two of you to fall back into your friendship and with the friendship came the oblivious flirting.

“You two are insufferable. Will you just admit you want to makeout.” Erin had teased the two of you. Her teasing, while not appreciating in the moment, had forced you and Niamh to actually sit down and talk about your feelings. You both admitted to wanting more than just a friendship and you went on your first official date after.

The next two years with Niamh were pure bliss. You played well together, you’d spend your holidays together, you met her family and she met yours.

Everything was good, until you became unhappy at Chelsea. You were progressively losing playing time to new signings, only seeing the pitch as a sub, it was impacting you heavily mentally and hurting your playing time internationally as well.

So when you got the offer to move to the NWSL, you took it. You took it and you didn’t tell Niamh until the day you confirmed the transfer.

You had broken the news at dinner in your apartment and an argument had quickly unfollowed.

“I can’t believe you’d just leave like that!” Niamh stood from the table grabbing her plate, not offering to clear yours like she typically would.

“I’m not happy here Niamh!” Niamh would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t know you were unhappy. She’d heard you rant and complain about your playing time, your struggles in training, and she had been supportive thought it all. She just never imagined you’d go as far as to leave her, to leave her and leave the country, the continent behind.

“What? I don’t make you happy?” She screamed across the room at you.

“You do! You’re the best thing I have here!” It was all you could yell back.

The defender grew quiet, looking at you with hurt eyes. “But I’m not enough, am I?” She asked quietly.

“Niamh.” You wanted to scream at her that this had nothing to do with her, she was the only reason you had stayed at this team so long. You had been given other offers but you thought maybe, somehow you’d end up with more playing time again and you’d go back to being happy where you were but that day never came.

“No, you should go, enjoy New York. Go where someone or something is enough for you.” She slammed the door behind her leaving you alone in your apartment.

The next day, your final day at Chelsea, you showed up, puffy eyed from crying instead of sleeping all night. It was quickly picked up on by the other girls, especially when Niamh didn’t come in with you, and she didn’t show up to training.

You gathered everyone in the conference room before film review. You stood up, explaining that while you loved the friendships and connections you’ve made here, to better yourself as a player it was time to move on. As you spoke you noticed Niamh slip in through the door, she looked just as rough if not worse than you did. Red cheeks, bloodshot eyes, her hair was a mess, she wasn’t dressed for training. You finished your speech before quickly saying goodbye to everyone all the girls lining up to hug you and wish you well, all the girls except Niamh who remained seated in the back of the room.

You left the facility shortly after, taking all your belongings with you before hurrying home. You were set to leave early the next morning, your belongings to be packed up by hired movers, anything you shared to be left with Niamh. You packed up just the essentials, enough to get you through the first week of your move before you could get settled.

You sent Niamh a text, asking if she wanted to come over for a bit, thinking you could talk it out, but you got no response. The next morning you hopped on a plane, having no idea if you were even still in a relationship with the girl.

It took a few weeks until you heard from her. A drunken phone call after they had won the league. A phone call that part of you wishes never came. You could tell from her first words that she must’ve been hammered, standing outside a loud nightclub or bar. Her voice brought back all of the feelings you had managed to push down for the past few weeks. Her proclamation of love over the phone, begging and pleading with you to forgive her for her stupid behavior. She begged to have you back in her bed, saying she missed the intimacy with you, the connection. She begged for a chance at long distance, to still be the one you wanted.

You never called her back. You weren’t even sure if she remembered calling.

And now here you were, standing less than an arms length away from her as you both stood waiting to enter the pitch. When you had stopped next to her, she had looked at you, when you made eye contact she gave you a small “hello” with a look of guilt across her face.

The game was easier, it was easy to forget she was there. She just looked like any other England player. You were able to push her from your mind, putting you more at ease than you had expected to be being this close to the woman after all that had happened.

It was after the game where you found yourself in uncomfortable waters with her. You had shaken her hand last, avoiding all eye contact. When Niamh tried to speak to you, you quickly dropped her hand and then made a b-line for the locker room.

“Please wait.” Her voice pleading with you as you heard her follow you down the tunnel.

“Niamh, no.” You don’t even turn back to look at her. You couldn’t, if you looked at her your body might convince you to hear her out.

“I don’t need you back, I just want closure, you deserve closure, I didn’t give you that.”

“Do you want closure or do you just want to feel less guilty for what you did to me?” You spit back at her, turning around you watch as her already guilty looking face twists into one of anger.

“You left the country with one days notice! Don’t blame this all on me!” She shouts back at you.

You sigh, you couldn’t believe this was happening. You and Niamh, standing less than three feet from each other, face to face for the first time since she left your apartment. You couldn’t determine your feeling, half of you wanted to grab her, kiss her hard and make up for all the time you two had missed out on. The other half of you was ready to shove her out of the way, leave here and hope you’d never have to play the Lionesses again. “And you walked out! You didn’t even try Niamh!”

“I didn’t know how. I didn’t even know where to start! It was such late notice. I didn’t know what to do, I loved you, I still love you.” She’s making eye contact so intense you can’t look away. This is exactly what you feared. Unable to hold back from the girl you start rambling.

“I still love you too Niamh, you think I don’t? You’re the only reason I stayed Niamh, because I loved you so fucking much, I couldn’t leave you, until playing for Chelsea became so unbearable, I had to leave to save myself, I was ready to quit.” You feel the tears on your face, suddenly very aware that you were crying.

You had only expressed how miserable you were to Niamh on the day you told her your contract was signed. She didn’t know you were on the verge of quitting, giving up on your love for the game.

You notice some of your teammates starting to filter into the tunnel. You and Niamh both stop talking as they pass by. Catarina slows down as she walks by, you try and duck your face to hide the tears. She looks between you and Niamh, giving you both a sympathetic smile before she moves on.

“Quit?” Niamh's face matches the look of your empathetic teammates in the tunnel.

You nod, avoiding making eye contact with Niamh, not wanting her to see right through you. She could always read you, she knew, you expressed your emotions too well through your eyes.

“I didn’t know it was that bad. Why didn’t you tell me?” Niamh grabs your hand, you start to pull it away but the feeling of her hand in yours again makes your stomach flutter so you leave it. “I don’t know what I can do. But,” you feel her squeeze your hand. “I want you back, or I want you again, I’m not sure I lost you, ever I don’t know what we were doing for those few months. Please?”

“We weren’t together during those months.” Sure you never confirmed a break up but you had decided not hearing from her meant you were no longer a couple. But you also hadn’t started seeing other people, the feelings of Niamh still too fresh.

“No, I know, it’s just we never broke up.”

“Niamh, I don’t know.”

“Please don’t make me beg. Even if it’s just a night? Just dinner or drinks, I’ll pay, or we can go to my place and I’ll let you yell at me, or tell me everything I did wrong, or we can just sit, whatever, just one night, me and you can we pretend we’re good? Pretend we’re something again? Go back to how it was?”

“Niamh.” You breathed out. You knew you shouldn’t. You knew both of your behaviors were toxic, you leaving with little notice and her storming out and drunkenly calling you begging for you back. You two shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t, but you wanted to. You loved her still.

You wanted to have a night with her, a date, an afternoon, something! In reality you wanted her for the rest of your life. You missed her hugs, you missed the way she kissed you, you missed the way you’d sing in the car together despite both having less than excellent voices. You missed falling asleep next to her. You missed her body on yours. You missed getting up early to make her coffee or tea and bringing it to her in bed, the way she’d sit up to sip it with crazy bed head. You missed everything about her.

You missed her and this was your chance to have her again. Even if it was just to pretend, for a night.

Niamh must’ve been able to tell you were pondering. She didn’t plea with you anymore, she didn’t beg again. She just waited patiently, studying your face, the face she’s been longing for.

“Okay. One night, like we used to be.” You finally give in.

“Really?” Niamh’s face lights up at your answer. A smile across her lips. “Okay, I’ll pick you up from your hotel? Can we have dinner? Or just drinks? Or I don’t know.”

“That sounds good.” Drinks and dinner would be harmless, a good way for the two of you to talk, in public, keep it civil.

When Niamh picked you up she was dressed up. You thankfully had dressed up as well. Subconsciously when you packed, you threw in a nice matching lace set, which you had put on underneath a simple shirt and nice pants. She had gotten out of the car to open the passenger side door, something she did when you were together.

“Thank you. Thank you for agreeing to this.” She said one back in the driver’s seat.

“Yeah.” You clasped your hands in your lap, when you were together you’d have your hand on her thigh or her hand in yours, today you kept them to yourself.

“I was thinking dinner?”

“Yeah that sounds good, I haven't eaten yet.”

Niamh nods before starting to drive to dinner. She pulls into an Italian restaurant, one the two of you had frequented while together.

When you sat down Niamh ordered a glass of wine, before looking at you. “Would you like one?”

“Yeah that'd be great.” you order the same wine as Niamh. When the glasses come Niamh holds hers up, tapping it to yours before you both take a sip and fall into silence.

You break the silence first.

You apologize for leaving on such short notice. You apologize for not telling her that you were considering leaving. You apologize for not expressing how you were feeling, truly upset at Chelsea. You apologize for never calling her, for never reaching out. You apologize for everything.

Niamh just sits, listening to you, really listening. She doesn’t interrupt, she just sits, making eye contact when you look at her. You find yourself looking away most of the time, feeling embarrassed as you list all the poor behavior, all the places you went wrong.

When you’re done, you sit back looking across the table at Niamh. Thankfully your food had arrived just as you finished apologizing and you were able to occupy the silence by eating. As you start to eat, Niamh begins to speak. She hasn’t started to eat and she’s hardly looked at the pasta in front of her.

“Niamh.” You interrupt, it was rude but you wanted to ensure she knew she could eat. “Please eat, we can talk after, don’t let it get cold.”

She nods, picking up her fork and swirling it into her meal. You eat for the most part in silence. Niamh asks a few questions about your new place in New York, your new team. When you tell her it’s going well, you’re playing more, you are often in the starting IX she replies with “I know.” When you told her you scored in your first game with them, she replies the same “I know.”

You look at her. “You keep up with me?”

“Of course I do.” She says. “I watch your games, I keep up with you, you have me rooting for you all the way across the pond. I, uh, I have your jersey.”

“Really?” You definitely didn’t expect her to own a jersey of yours. You had a couple of her Chelsea jerseys and you knew she had a couple of your old Chelsea ones as well, you just didn’t expect her to buy a new one, for your new team after what happened.

“Yeah.” She sighs.

She then begins an apology list of her own. She apologizes first for the drunken call. She had remembered doing it. She apologized for storming out on you, she apologized for ignoring you when you said your goodbyes to the team. She apologized for not reaching out, something you were both guilty of.

“I do still love you.” She ends her apology with those words.

“I still love you Niamh.” You can’t help it, you loved this woman, everything about her.

You don’t get to follow up on what that meant for either of you as the waiter comes with the bill, Niamh grabbing it before you can, when you let out a pouting huff, she just gives you a glance.

“Please it’s the least I can do, plus I asked you to this.”

“Fine.” You cross your arms. “But I get the next one.”

“The next one?” Niamh’s face breaks into a small smile, just creeping on her lips. “As in, another time?”

“If that’s something you want to do?”

“Yeah.” She says. “Does that mean, we’re…” she points a finger between the two of you.

You knew it was maybe too soon to let her back in, too soon for both of you but you really didn’t care. Sitting here being able to see her, hear her, admire her, made you miss every inch of her. You wanted her back, you needed her back. Long distance would be something to figure out, but not right now, right now you had her in front of you, within reach.

You’re not sure what to call yourselves yet, so you nod. “If that’s something you want too.”

“Yeah.” The waiter comes back to the table to give Niamh her card back. You both thank him before leaving the restaurant and heading to her car. Niamh goes to open your car door, just just barely cracks it when you push it closed.

“Hey!” She turns back to scold you, coming face to face with each other.

“Hi.” You breath out practically whispering, this was the closest you two had been in a non-match situation in months. Your faces inches from each other. You look at her eyes, temporarily getting lost in their beautiful blue color. Your trance is broke by her blinking a few times. Your eyes fall to her lips and then back to her eyes. Niamh gets the hint and brings her hands up around your shoulders, pulling you slightly closer.

“Is this okay?” She asks, looking up at you with wide eyes.

You find yourself leaning in, pressing your lips to hers, they feel better than you remember, you can feel your love for her flooding through your body, your hairs standing on edge, its electric and soft and it feels safe. You were kissing Niamh. Your Niamh. The love of your life, the girl you had waited for, the girl who was with you through your teenage years and into young adulthood. This was your girl, she was yours, you promised to never let her go again.

You kiss for a second, your front gently pressed to hers as her back is leaned up against the car. It’s a passionate kiss, both of you pouring months of built up feelings into it. When you break away you can’t hide the smile across your face and by the looks of it neither can Niamh.

“I love you.” You say.

“I love you.” She then turns opening the door again, you let her this time and you get into the car. When she climbs in the drivers seat she asks where to.

“Yours?” You suggest. “I can think of a few more ways we can make up for lost time.” You give her a wink and Niamh gets the hint, quickly starting the car in the direction of her apartment. It only takes a few turns before her hand finds its way to your upper thigh, giving it a hard squeeze.

Sure it wasn’t the healthiest way of working out your problems together, but it worked, you both got your frustrations out, you were able to express your emotions, show how much you missed each other, how much you loved each other, and by the time morning came the two of you had decided you were back together.

Girlfriends, just long distance ones.

#niamh charles #Niamh Charles x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #niamh charles imagine #lionesses x reader

294 notes · View notes

alsoprettyinpink · 3 months ago

Text

Holy shit I can’t believe I finally finished this. It’s been a while and I preface this by saying I’m not a writer. After watching Deadpool Wolverine, I realized that I needed to come back to tumblr to share in the fandom that is Wolverine/Logan. Not knowing all that I was getting into. I found some amazing fan fiction writers that also reminded me of my younger days and I figured I’d try it again. So here’s my filthy writing. Big thanks to @silverskyeline for honestly giving me the courage to post this. I nervous. Please comment if you liked it or whatever. I’ll add I did not edit the smut cause I got silly embarrassed. Sorry in advance. I’ll do better I promise.

Logan/Wolverine X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.6K

Tags: MDNI 18+, smut after the fluff I guess, P in V, unprotected (this is fiction so be safe), he's never pulling out, oral (F receiving), idk, bathroom and classroom sessions,

Summary: You are a new teacher at Xavier's institute, and you find your neighbor teacher, Logan, pretty attractive. There's a flyer for chaperones needed for the homecoming dance. Can you muster up the courage to ask him? What's the spark in his eye? Is it...lust?

A/N: During the dance scene, I highly recommend listening to Benson Boone’s Beautiful Things. Enjoy.

It was finally fall. One of your favorite seasons. The weather was finally cool enough for you to leave your hair down. Cool breezes dance through the changing foliage around the campus. The orange, red and some yellow ginkgo leaves flutter as you and many others return to campus. A fall greeting from mother nature herself.

You were a teacher for Charles this semester after he somewhat guilted you into doing it. You weren’t sure if this was going to be the right fit for you. The refreshing air however, made you forget that was even a thought. Instead it made you feel confident. He asked if you could teach art. You weren’t sure as to all that would entail, you just figured you could just be the cool art teacher. You had the look down; ponytail, large glasses and a patient attitude. You knew a change was in your future, whether it was your need to constantly reinvent yourself or just tired of the same routine. The season was ready for you.

You set up in your classroom, knowing that the history teacher was on the other side of the wall. Mr. Logan Howlett. You were unsure how much he really cared about teaching, you were unsure where he stood anywhere. A man of few words and grunts. You heard that he’d been alive for almost 200 years, so he knew the ins and outs of history. The truth about events that hadn’t been erased or only told from the victor’s perspective. You chuckled at the idea of his gruff and blunt perspective. Thinking of how he taught his class. How intimidating he must have come across.

You had met him a few times around the campus, knowing he was The Wolverine; one of the X-men. Feisty, brooding, no nonsense kinda guy…your thoughts trailed as you found yourself thinking of him more fondly. He was such an attractive man. His dark features, his muscular build. When he would walk by in the mornings before class, cup of coffee in hand, he’d wave and give you a faint smile...maybe it was a grimace. There were times that you didn’t see him, but he always saw you. You would be rearranging your classroom or you would be smiling reading a book, but he’d see you.

“Mr. Howlett.” You greeted, meeting him in the teacher’s lounge. You were a bit startled seeing him up close and personal, but the lure of coffee was too strong. He grunted as per usual going through the cupboard trying to find his favorite mug. “Call me Logan.” He spoke.

“If you don’t mind, on campus I have to keep it professional, Mr. Howlett. Maybe if I see you outside of school, I’ll drop the honorifics.” You responded smiling although you were nervous. You couldn’t help it. That was just how you operated at work; professional. He grunted again, still searching for a specific mug. “Ugh,” he muttered to himself. “This will just have to do.” He picked one that said, “Without Art the Earth Would Just Be ‘eh’” with rainbows going around the image of earth.

You chuckled seeing such a burly man with a silly cup. “What?” He snapped turning to you, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing so he could hurry up and end this torment.

“Sorry…That’s one of mine that I brought. It’s a silly one.” You find another one you brought, pulling it out of the cabinet. It was a rather large, light brown and dark brown body with a small sculpted face. It’s nose was pointed with beady eyes and large fat cheeks.

“What the fuck is that supposed to be?” He asked, concerned.

You looked at the mug again, smiling because you were sure it was a gift from someone, “I think it’s a hedgehog.” You responded, chuckling again just looking at its little stupid smiling face brought you so much joy.

The coffee was done brewing and you were positive so was this special interaction with Xavier’s finest teacher.

“It’s like a 20oz so it gets the job done.” you added, beckoning Logan to go first. He leaned with his hip to the counter, arms crossed, “Naw, you first darlin’.”

Darlin’?

You weren’t ready for that. You could feel the flush of your cheeks and the tips of your ears. You were hoping he wouldn’t notice. Quickly pouring some for yourself, you offered to pour his cup too. He thanked you, while you opened the fridge for creamer.

A flyer tagged to the fridge caught your eye. “Oh there’s a homecoming dance coming up? That’s so cute!” You exclaimed. “They'll probably need chaperones.” You muttered to yourself.

Your mind reminisced about your high school dances and how much fun you had at them. Hearing stories of others drinking or fooling around as high school kids tend to do, you sighed. Logan looked over at you drinking his black coffee. “You’re not thinking of going to that are you?” His brow was arched high as he spoke in disgust, his voice rough as if just being alive was torment.

“I’ve never been a chaperone before, but I just remembered how much I loved going to my high school dances. I went to every one!”

Your cheeriness seemed to amuse him and probably confuse him too. You couldn’t tell by looking at him, but the fact that he was still entertaining a conversation was making your heart flutter. Anxious, you asked him if he would make an appearance, already knowing his answer.

“Hell no! I ain’t trying to be here around those kids longer than I have to be.” He grabbed his (your) mug and headed back to his room, “See ya later, have a good day.” He added raising his hand up as he left.

You swallowed the dry lump that had formed in your throat. Your hands were a bit shaky, as you took a sip of that liquid gold. You awaited for the caffeine to fuel your body as it coursed through your veins. However, you immediately grimaced spitting the coffee back into your oversized cartoon mug. “He made jet fuel.” No amount of sugar or creamer would make that taste good. You sighed, disappointedly, and you poured it out and the pot to make a new one.

——————————————————————

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. The same basic conversations with your neighbor teacher, Logan. You sighed out of frustration not really sure how you wanted to continue whatever this was. We’re you friends? We’re you just coworkers? You had some flirty banter with him, but you didn’t want to make it more than what it was. You also didn’t know too much about him still, despite your small talk efforts. He did converse with you despite you feeling like you were the main one engaged in said conversation. What you didn’t know was that he would watch you teach your class at first thinking that these kids needed something more important than art. However, he had to eat his words when one of them bested him during a training session, using something they had learned in your class. Sure you taught painting and other art forms, but he didn’t realize that creativity could make the kids turn into a modern day MacGuyver.

During a class, you were teaching about art in advertisements, you saw your students eyes glancing over to the window of the door. You turned your head and there he was. His eyes flinched as he tried to play cool, but you think he didn’t expect you to see him. “Ok, read this page and the next!” You opened your door and quietly closed it behind you.

“Are you ok, Mr. Howlett? Do you need something?” You asked in a slight whisper, Logan seemed tensed. He acted like you had caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing, although he seemed so cool about it though. You couldn’t really read him well. “Uh…no, I’m fine. Just… admiring your class. I’ll tell you later.” And he walked off with a turn of his heel. You watched him walk away like a sad puppy being left at home. Your eyes drank up his frame staring at his dark hair, red flannel, and those luscious jeans. Damn did they fit him well. You went back into your class expecting silence but they were awaiting your return.

“OOOoooOOO!” The class exclaimed. “Do you liiiiikkeee him?” One of the girl students mocked teasingly. Snapping back to reality, you whipped your head around, waving them off. “Mr. Howlett is a friend, Sarah. You wouldn’t like it if I asked you in front of everyone if you like Roberto?”

“Ew! I don’t like him!” And then the class erupted in laughter.

“Settle! Settle! Or I will give you a pop quiz!” A hush fell over the class.

“I’ll raise the anti!” Another student snarked. “I dare you to ask him to the homecoming dance. If you do, regardless of his answer, we’ll take your pop quiz!”

These little instigators!

“Fine, I‘ll ask him! Pop quiz. Books closed! Take out a piece of paper and something to write with.”

——————————————

After school, you decided to stay after a bit to get some grading done. You were sitting at your desk rubbing your temples. You could feel a headache coming down. Getting teased and called out by teenagers was not on your bingo card. Surprisingly enough, a good portion of them did really well on their pop quiz and it made you so proud of them.

The hedgehog mug was placed on your desk by a strong hand and a loud thud. Looking up, you saw Logan. His expression stern and void of any joy “Oh! Thanks.”

“It’s water.” He said bluntly. “You look like you got a headache comin’ on, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink water…” and he dropped some small brown pills next to you.

You groaned and took a sip. You hated the fact that he knew you well enough that he knew you were dehydrated and most likely over caffeinated.

“Are you really gonna go to that stupid dance next week?” He asked, his brows slightly furrowed. His usual gravely voice tinged with annoyance.

“Yeah,” you started putting the mug down on your desk, “You wanna go with me?” You asked not missing a beat. This way it was honoring your promise to your students while still feeling like a cool girl. Not a woman who was nervous about asking her coworker to the high school homecoming dance. And then if he said ‘no’ your feelings wouldn't be hurt cause you didn't put in any effort. No build up, no romanticism, just two friends talking.

He winced as if he was in physical pain. He ran his fingers back through his dark brown hair sighing heavily.

“Fine. I'll go with ya.” He responded flatly, folding his arms. Your brain had already processed a ‘No’. The hard pulse of your heart beating heavy in your chest, the dryness of your eyes as they widen when you realize, actually, what he had said.

“I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to.” You felt as if your heart was coming out of your throat. You swallowed hard hoping he would ignore your hint of ‘you-can-reconsider-your-decision’.

“Naw princess, I'm a man of my word. I'll go with you…ugh,” he shifted weight to his hip. “Just don't expect me to dance or nothin’.”

Princess?!

“Cool. Got it. You'll be a beautiful wallflower.” You chuckled, really still trying to play cool, sipping the water he got for you trying not to choke.

He can read you like a book.

He cleared his throat, “Mm, I don't think I'll compare to how pretty you'll prolly look.”

Is….is HE blushing???!! Wait…am I blushing?? Fuckfuckfuck.

You cleared your throat, looking back at the stack of papers in front of you. “Well, I'll leave it to ya. I hope you feel better, Ms. Y/N.”

You smiled to yourself as he was already walking away. “Thanks Mr. Howlett.”

——————

You were getting ready at the institute being that it was easier than going home, getting ready and then coming all the way back. You couldn’t believe that Logan was willing to go to the dance with you. You were pretty sure it was a pity agreement or something. You knew he didn’t really want to go but he agreed to go with you…why? You finished doing your makeup in the mirror, made cute faces, sexy faces, pouty faces and smiling faces at yourself, just to make sure you knew how you looked.

You brushed out your dress. It was a wine colored, A-line dress with a boat neck and short puffy lantern sleeves. A slit off to the side to show a little leg, but still modest. Your hair was down, with one side pinned back to keep out of your face. Your earrings were small dangles and sparkly to catch the light and a simple necklace for a clean look.

“You can do this!” You said placing both hands on the sink staring deeply at yourself in the mirror. “He's just a man… A mutant man, but a man nonetheless. You're just friends, nothing more. This isn't a date or anything. Just friendly co-workers going to chaperone a school dance that you both work at…”

Fuck I'm anxious. Maybe a little gummy to ease my nerves.

You dug into your tiny purse for that last 1:1 gummy that always got you in the best mood. Relaxed and not stressed…and maybe just a little bit high. But not that they would notice.

You walked out of the bathroom finally. You and Logan didn't really communicate about when and where you all would meet up or if you would just meet there. You wished there was alcohol served for the adults.

You checked your phone and didn't see any messages from him or calls. Let's be real, if he called you'd be hesitant to answer.

You finally had to admit it to yourself that you liked him. You were crushing on him hard as if you were a teen again. He was all you ever thought about, his blips in the teacher's lounge or when he would nod at you through the door made your heart swell.

Sometimes during your planning period you could hear him teaching. You had grown fond of listening to his voice. One particular time, your imagination had taken you through constant interactions, conversations, situations…some verged on dirty. You could hear him talking to you. His strong hands gripping your waist and pulling you close to him. His lips close to yours, as his one hand leaves your waist and cups your face. you're both taking shallow breaths with anticipation of the next move. Frozen in place, all you can do is watch him glide through air as his thumb caressed the apple of your cheek. It was almost like you were holding your breath in this fantasy as he pulled you in for a deep and passionate kiss. His grip around your waist; possessive. Other thoughts, he had you bent over his desk as he took you from behind. His relentless thrusts into your tight, wet, pussy as you moaned his name and grasped at papers. You remembered gasping coming back to reality and uncrossing your legs and adjusting yourself in your chair. You heard him sniffing on the other side of the wall. You turned slightly looking at your chalkboard knowing he couldn't see you…but you felt like you could feel his intense gaze on you through the wall.

You found yourself standing outside his classroom now. Clutching on to your purse, you tried to imagine him teaching. Really trying to ignore the desk and papers that were neatly stacked upon it. His half-lidded hazel eyes on you, paired with a devilish smirk, papers flying everywhere.

“Oh, you're here.” His gravelly voice startled and pulled you from the depths of your imagination.

“Sorry we never discussed where to meet, but I had a feelin’ You'd be… here.” His pause made you notice his eyes flickered up and down. It made your cheeks flush and your heart flutter.

Taking in his attire, you were thoroughly impressed with how well he cleaned up; He looked so good. Black shoes, jeans, a leather belt, a white button up, and a brown corduroy blazer. The need to speak was needed, for you felt too much time had passed since the last word was said.

“No, I'm sorry. I should have expressed where-”

“You look beautiful.” He interjected softly. You could tell that doling compliments wasn’t his strongest suit but he did mean what he said.

You felt heat rise into your cheeks. “Ah, thank you, Mr. Howlett. You look great too…as always.”

”Please call me Logan tonight.“ he rasped, staring you down. His gaze never leaving yours. You felt your heart speed up in your chest, and a twinge in your interior.

He took a step closer to you, a gasp wanting to escape your lips, but didn’t. His lips parted, as the back of his hand tucked strands of your hair behind your ear. His calloused fingertips unraveled around your ear down to your jaw and making their way to your chin. Time seemed to have stopped for you. You could hear your rushed pulse vibrating in your ear. Your eyes darted back and forth between his. Your mouth parched, lips parted, and your breath caught in your lungs, as he caressed your face.

“Hey guys! The chaperones are gathering now to usher in students if you want to make your way over!” Scott yelled from the other end of the hallway. If anyone was going to ruin a moment it was always, always going to be Scott. Immediately, you took a step back, grounding yourself. The trance breaking. You could see the annoyance trickling across his face as he turned to face Scott.

“Yeah we’ll be headin’ over soon, Summers.” He yelled back over, still mentally fixed on you. Your own`` mind raced with thoughts of how you were going to restart this. You wanted him to kiss you, if…that's what he was trying to do.

He cleared his throat, holding his arm out for you to hold on to. “Shall we, doll?” His expression changed to a relaxed smile. His gruff exterior seemed to still be present to others, but when he was around you, he seemed relaxed. You placed your arm around his trying not to smile too hard. You didn’t want to lose your cool. His arms were strong as he held onto you. A part of you wanted your ankle to give out just so he could catch you, and then maybe he’d finished what he started before Scott interjected. But you couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t allow yourself to do that. A smile pulled at the corners of your lips, hoping he didn’t notice.

When you both walked into the cafeteria the Student Government Association had done such an excellent job decorating and preparing for this. They had streamers and iridescent decorations that seemed to sparkle as they hung from the ceiling. Towards the back there was a punch table which is where you and Logan headed over to. You took it upon yourself to monitor the punch table to ensure they didn’t run out of cups or none of the students spiked it.

As the doors opened and the students came in, your heart swelled seeing them all in their lovely clothes. To be young again, a sigh escaped your lips, thinking of the times when you were in the same situation as them. The heat of the dance floor, sometimes the heartbreak of seeing your crush dancing with another, the wallflowers, the anxiety of asking someone to dance with you. Honestly, you loved all the feelings. These kids were special. They dealt with a different type of prejudice, but at least in this moment, none of that mattered. Just having a good fun time with friends.

The music however had much to be desired. The kids were grinding on each other and kinda made you feel a touch uncomfortable, but it all looked safe and everyone looked like they were having fun. Logan came over by you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He took a swig of something out of the corner of your eye. Here you were again, heart racing from the thought of him touching you. He hadn’t touched you until today, but you never wanted him to stop. Taking a double take and noticing his flask, you quickly found yourself facing him,as if you were trying to block others from seeing what he was doing. Without consciously noticing, he hooked his arm around your waist pulling you ever so close to him. You moved with the gesture, not registering in your mind, as if you have done this before and it’s normal for the two of you to be so close. A lazy smile tugged at the corners of his lips while his heavy lidded eyes stayed on you. His brow arched as you spoke.

“Mr. Howlett!” You whispered, “Are you drinking alcohol?” A grin broke through upon his lips. “You’re one to talk doll.” He whispered right back. He got really close to your face, your heart beating almost out of your chest. He was so close, he smelled so nice you could feel yourself becoming a bit dizzy from the emotion of it all. Just when you thought he was going to kiss you, he whispered in your ear instead, his lips grazing the cartilage. “I know you ate a weed gummy. I can smell it on you.”

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as you leaned away from him, his grip still tight around you. “Look, I just needed something to keep this interesting.” He spoke, his face turning pink just slightly.

He could smell it on you? What else could he smell? Those gummies smelled like nothing. They were in leak proof bags. But…what “else” could he smell.

Your face flushed as your brows met. “You must've seen me eat one. You can't smell those.” He scoffed at your accusation wanting nothing more than to confess everything he can smell on you but he figured he'd explain later.

You looked around to note no other chaperone was near you. “What’s your poison?”

A sinful smirk danced across his lips again. “Whiskey…you want some?” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a rather large metal flask. Your face lit up and you nodded.

“Don’t tell anyone.” You pleaded as he handed you his flask and you took a quick swig. It burned your mouth and the back of your throat, but it also warmed your soul. You weren’t a whiskey drinker at all, but you wanted to be one if that meant you had something in common with him. You took another swig this time longer, quickly shoving it back in his coat, and straightening out his jacket. Pressing out his jacket made his aroma waft through your senses. The scent of whiskey, pine, cedar and tobacco filled your nostrils and made your head spin. You couldn't believe you were touching him, the corduroy of his jacket felt so nice against your fingertips. You stared at his shirt, seeing the ribs of the white tank he wore underneath it. You hadn’t noticed but his eyes were affixed to you; watching you touch him, watching you getting lost in your thoughts as he had seen you do before. He thoroughly enjoyed you touching him. He gently rolled your head up with his index and thumb on your chin “You think too much. Relax, darlin’”

Your face flushed now mostly from the alcohol. Not to mention your edible was starting to kick in.

“Ohhhhhohoho! Look at teach!” One of your students spoke out. Immediately you froze and broke his hold around you. You hadn't realized he was holding you close to him for you were lost in your own crude thoughts. Words escaped your brain as you worried what they might say, but then you thought who cares? You were only concerned about rumors that could swirl around the school. Your reputation meant everything to you. To prove that you belonged…That you deserved to be there.

You looked over at Logan, thanked him for the drink and focused your attention to the floor. Your gaze searching and making sure the students were ok and having fun. Your mind was elsewhere however. Dizzy, drunk from his touch, his scent, and your edible kicking in. You felt a twinge, a heat building up in your thighs. You exhaled and tried to regain composure. You glanced at the perimeter of the room, seeing the other chaperones enjoying their time, drinking the punch, talking and laughing.

Fully feeling your vices, you found yourself by the wall bouncing along to the music; bobbing your head while holding your drink in your hand. You looked around searching for Logan. Just a glance to see what he was up to. No luck. It made you pout. You were feeling your emotions building up inside of you like a volcano about to erupt. Finally a break in your thoughts shattered through when you heard that new pop song you loved. It was almost a 180 in you. You became excited and danced in place and sang along with the words. You raised that cup in the air and swayed your hips. It filled your heart to feel that beat in your body, even more so since you were under the influence.

Logan had stepped outside for a smoke break, and when he returned he saw you really enjoying yourself. It brought a smile to his lips. He walked up to you, hands in his pockets, relaxed. “You’re having fun.” He spoke with his gruff exterior held up and a smile. You turned to him still bouncing to the beat, “Ohmygod yes! I love this song.” Calming down just a bit, not wanting to seem childish or immature to him, you took a sip of your non-alcoholic punch. You finally admitted to yourself that you liked him. You really, really, liked him and you hoped that he returned your feelings. But being his friend was second best.

“Oh? Well, let’s take you out on the floor then.” He suggested holding his hand out for you to take. You stood there, a bit stunned and unsure. He read your face as if he could read your mind, “When a pretty girl asks you to a dance, you dance. I didn’t come here for nothin’” he added with a smirk. Your thoughts ran a mile a minute. It made you think everything over; replaying in your mind on fast forward. You placed your drink down, and took his hand.

His hand was rough, calloused and his grip was tight as if he didn’t, you’d float away. He pulled you close to him again, and in rom-com true fashion, the song changed. The lights slowed and were dimmed low. He looked up and sighed at the change. “Of course…” he muttered. However his ears pricked back when he heard the song Beautiful Things play. He wasn’t sure of the artist but he enjoyed it the few times he had heard it. His brow furrowed, not sure how to dance to this slow pop song. He was going to figure it out.

His arm still around your waist and the other still holding your hand. Gently he swayed you side to side. Neither of you spoke. Only being present in the moment. His gaze held yours and yours were fixed to his.

And I hold you every night

And that's a feeling I wanna get used to

But there's no man as terrified

As the man who stands to lose you

Your sways turned into a spin. When he pulled you back to him, your eyes met. Your eyes darted between his hazel eyes almost luring you even closer to him. He dropped your hand as both his hands wrapped around your waist and yours, made their way around his shoulders pulling you both into each other. That feeling returned to your lower body as you swallowed the dry lump that formed in your throat. Your heart raced even faster and given your proximity, you knew he could feel it.

Oh, I hope I don't lose you

The lights were sparkling around you, adding just an extra layer of magic. You rolled your lips, trying so hard not to pick the skin off your luscious berry tinted lips.

Please stay

He took a quick breath in, his lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something. You tried to speak, to tell him everything, all the feels but you couldn’t find the courage to do so.

I want you, I need you, oh God

Don't take

“Can I kiss you?” He asked deep and low. Your eyes widened not expecting him to ask you anything let alone that. Words escaped you and all you could do was nod.

At that moment, the world seemed to standstill. You didn’t even care if any of your students saw you. You didn’t care if other teachers saw you. This moment, it was just you and Logan.

These beautiful things that I've got

The song seemed to come to a huge climax which only made your heart flutter as his hand held your chin up, his lips pressed on to yours. Fireworks seemed to go off in your brain. You closed your eyes just being in the moment. Feeling his warm lips against yours was everything you thought it would be. Your eyes rolled behind your eyelids as you took a deep inhale through your nose. Your hand draped around his neck, pulled him closer into you. Your hungry and needy return made a growl creep up from his broad chest. His tongue pushed his way into your desperate mouth as he watched through his lashes. You no longer thought about anything else. His intensity pushed your back a couple steps. Your free hand reaching behind you, trying to feel for the wall to brace yourself.

His lips dragged from yours down to your jaw, to your pulse point, to the nape of your neck; a trail of hot kisses behind them. His lips parted as he tasted your skin. A soft moan escaped your lips as you found yourself pulling his face from his new favorite spot. His eyes were filled with lustful thoughts. “…not here…” you spoke before his lips found yours again. Your fingers applied pressure along his temples, gliding through his hair. His hands now wandered down your hips, grabbing your ass. He pulled from your lips begrudgingly, only now comprehending your words. He placed his hand up against the wall near your flushed face, fighting his urges to keep going for the moment.

“Yeah, you’re right…” he huffed. There wasn’t much blood in his brain to think of a secluded place. You grabbed his hand and led him out of the cafeteria. Down a hallway in the direction of the classrooms; He was becoming impatient, irrational…feral. His need for you, growing uncontrollably. When you paused in your steps, he pulled you into the bathroom adjacent to you both. His mouth found yours as soon as that door opened. Locking it behind him, he quickly closed the gap between you and the corner of the sinks and a wall. His sultry gaze looked over you, enjoying the sight and sound of you on the other side. His hands wandered up your stomach, to your breasts. He palmed them, running the side of his thumb over your hard nipples through your bra. “…fuck…” he muttered through your lips.

Your hand fiddled with his belt, undoing it along with the zipper of his slacks. Your other hand ran down his clothed chest, feeling ever chiseled muscle. You freed his throbbing cock from the confinements of his boxer briefs, gently stroking the entire length.

Fuck, he’s big

He shuddered from your touch. His brows furrowed as you sped up only focusing with your fingertips, teasing the tip coated with pearled precum with your thumb. He moved your hand from him, picking your legs up with his arms pulling them around his waist, making you lean back for leverage up against the wall. His tip teasing the outside of your pussy through your already wet panties. Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck, holding on for security.

“Don’t worry baby, I got ‘cha.” He grunted out. His one hand snaked up the back of your dress. His eyes searched yours as he felt the zipper. He leaned in as his lips sat on top of yours almost to steal your breath away. “May I?”

“Yes, please…do it” you responded so deprived. Your hands cupped his bristled cheeks as you pulled him in for another hungry kiss. Another growl rumbled in his chest as his hand slowly pulled the zipper down. The sound echoed in your ear drums as his lips found your neck again, gently sinking his teeth into your neck.

“Ahh, fuck Logan!” You jolted knowing you were going to have a mark there later. A reminder that this was real. Not one of your fantasies. He pulled away for a moment, admiring his mark against your skin.

“Uh uh. I’m Mr. Howlett, remember?” His voice deep and doused with lust. He pulled your arms out of the sleeves of your dress, and pulled it down, freeing your breasts. “Fuck you’re beautiful.” He uttered, admiring you. His warm mouth encapsulated your nipple as his other hand found your clit. You threw your head back, your hips jolting. His wet tongue ran over your nipple as he sucked on it. His finger delicately ran small circles on your clit. Your breathing became more shallow, his name floating off your lips as a prayer.

He hummed, slipping your nipple from his lips, “Say it again” his tongue flicked over your other nipple as you gasped. Your head dizzy, your cheeks hot, you managed to speak, “Mr. Howlett….” You moaned softly. It seemed to stir something within him. Hearing you say his name like that, turned him on even more.

He could feel how soaked you were between your folds. His fingers slipped down to coat his fingers in your wetness. “God, I’ve been thinking about this.” He admits in the valley of your tits.

“Me too…for far too long.”

“I’ll buy you a new pair…” he responds, staring into your eyes. Confusion paints your face, suddenly you feel cold metal against your pelvis. A small blade came from his hand as you felt your panties becoming taut and then riiiiiiippp.

He looks into you again. At this point, you feel like you can read minds. His eyes searched yours to get confirmation that this was happening. You moistened your lips and held onto your bottom lip. He leaned his forehead on yours, closing his eyes. You both allowed gravity to assist. Effortlessly, you slid right on to him, taking him deep to the hilt. You hissed a curse as you felt yourself suck him in. He held you there for you to adjust to him. His head went to his new favorite spot as his hot breath tickled your neck. He gritted his teeth as he slowly thrusted into you. The tight, slick of your folds made his head spin. The scent of you and your arousal made him thrust a bit faster. Your whimpers and whines echoed in the warm lit space alongside the squelching and sounds of skin slapping against each other.

“Fuck…” he muttered, “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

You couldn’t explain the tightness that you were feeling in your lower abdomen, but you knew what it meant.

“Oooo, if you keep…doing that…fuck…” you panted; your chest rising and falling with every thrust trying not to be heard. But he wasn’t having it. You were going to be loud and you were going to cum. He slowed down his pace, edging himself and most likely you. From the base of his throbbing cock, inch by inch of his shaft pulled from you, covered in your juices, until the tip teased at your entrance again. Repeat.

He slowly pushed back into you, inch by inch of his veined shaft, until he could feel your ass on his balls. Logan could feel you clench around him.

“Doin’ what, baby?” His lips grazed the edge of your ear which only made the feeling in your pussy twinge. He chuckled, looking back into your eyes.

“Tell me,” he started, still slowly stroking you, making sure your clit was still being stimulated even if for a few moments of his pelvis hitting yours. The brisk air making it tingle. “There was a time, a few months ago…I was teachin’ and I could smell you. As if you were right there with me…” he held his position, deep in you; grinding his hips slowly. “What were you thinking about?”

You couldn’t think. Your eyes were closed as the back of your hand graced your face. You were completely lost in the amount of pleasure only wanting to focus on chasing your orgasm. Then it clicked. The memory flashed in your mind.

”You.” Whispering back into his ear. He looked in your eyes as a devilish smirk grew across his face. Full grin, he continued to slowly stroke you.

“What about me?”

You rolled your eyes, needing him to stop teasing you. No need to be shy now.

“You fucking me on your desk…bent over.” You managed to say. His pace sped up, his cock throbbing even more now. That thought almost sent him over the edge.

You couldn’t hold back anymore. His thrust were pushing you closer and closer to your own release. His length hitting the spongey spot. “Fuckfuckfuck…Imma…Imma” you mewled which only urged him to speed up even more. The twinge in your lower abdomen built up until you felt the electric shock travel throughout you. Logan groaned as his lips swallowed your moans. His thrusts became short and spaced out, quick bucks of his hips. You held on to him tighter as you moaned even louder knowing the twitch of his cock in you only meant one thing.

You both tried to catch your breath, panting like dogs in the summer heat. He held you close to him, still twitching inside of you.

“Fuck…I’m sorry” he murmured his voice raspy and dry.

Your eyes searched over his, wondering what he was apologizing for. Was he regretting this moment with you. Crossing the lines of being co-workers? Friends?

”You’re thinking too much.” He spoke again, studying the lines of your face. His eyes flickered down to where you both connected.

Your face flushed again, as you felt his seed drip from you. “Oh…that…that’s ok. Birth control ya know?” You said winking at him. His seemingly concerned face slowly turned into one of someone plotting something naughty. You seemed more in tune with him and his thoughts. Maybe he was allowing you to read him better.

He pulled your dress up to cover your beautiful breasts, as he carried you freely out of the bathroom and to his classroom. You held onto him, pressing your torso against his. “What are you doing?!”

“I need you darlin’” he stated pressing his lips against yours. Salt coated his face as strays of his hair tickled your forehead. His passion calmed a bit to a more tender love.

“What if someone sees us?” You asked as he gently placed you upon his desk. Finally pulling out of you, still hard, he covered the window in the door with black paper. You watched him move back towards you, as if he glided on ice, your heart beating a bit faster again. “No one is gonna see us.” He spun you around and gently pushed you over his desk. You squeaked, your heart racing even faster. He rolled your dress up to your hips, exposing your fat ass and soaked pussy. His seed still trickling out of you.

“Ohhh, shit.” He groaned taking in the sights and sounds. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He added.

Logan growled, sending a sharp sting through you. The slap on your ass reverberated through the classroom. You winced as your nails dug through the wood of his desk. You felt the ripple up to your back. The jiggle of your ass making you squirm and pulse.

You couldn’t see him, but you could feel the warmth of his tongue as he licked between your folds. “Ahh!” You mewled unsuspecting. Long, flat strokes of his tongue moved through you. His firm hands gripped you to spread you wide. As the tip of his tongue found your clit, your muscles tensed up. Your moans grew louder as he seemed to devour you.

“Mm, you taste so fucking sweet.” He hummed.

With every moan encouraged him to be more aggressive. His tongue darted into you and softly flicked against your other tight hole. “Fuck Logan…fuck me please..”you begged.

His eye twitched at the sound of your request. “Oh yeah? You want me to fuck you again, huh?” His smugness was oozing off of him. He loved hearing you beg for him and he was more than happy to oblige. He kissed your lower lips, a strand of saliva and your sweet juices trailing between them. He licked his lips, stood up and positioned himself at your entrance. “Say it again,” he asked, almost begging you for it.

“…please…fuck me again…Logan.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest. He stroked his length a couple times, while his other hand steadied your hips. He took the tip and pushed through your wet walls. As his other hand found your hip, he pressed back into you. He had more control like this than in the stall and it made him weak. His thrusts were tamed in the beginning, but he couldn’t fight off the primal urge in his body. He needed you.

His hips snapped back and forth as he claimed you as his. “Fuck princess, you feel fuckin’ fantastic.�� His hazel eyes watched as he buried his cock deep into you, the sheen coating his dick making him move faster. With every thrust you moaned, your knees feeling weak as you held yourself up for him. Luckily, you were wearing heels. The lewd sound of skin on skin made it even more delectable.

“I need to see that pretty face.” He muttered, pulling out of you without warning, leaving you feeling empty. He flipped you over onto your back as you quickly hiked up your dress…and your legs. He pressed back into your dripping, needy pussy, throwing your legs over his shoulders.

Logan released a moan that took him by surprise. As you watched the man you had been pinning for so long grab hold of your thighs, it only made you tighten around him. You pulled your dress back down, exposing your breasts again as they bounced from his drive.

He lost himself in pleasure as his lips kissed your ankle. Your moans and your body moving only made him to take you deeper. He moved your legs from his shoulders and pushed them apart with his palms. Yes, this is how he wanted you. His pace sped up as he leaned over to kiss your lips. His tongue needing yours. Logan’s hands teased your nippled making sure you felt ultimate pleasure. He was determined to make you cum again.

You broke for the kiss needing air as your moans loudly traveled through the halls. You were a loud fuck and he loved it. As things crashed off his desk, papers fluttering down to the floor, his grunts louder than before and in sync with his speedy pulses in your velvet walls. You moaned again, your arms thrown around his neck, “…Logan, I’m so close…” you whimpered.

”I know…baby” he returned, chasing his own high again. His hand left your nipple to play with another sensitive mound in between your legs. You threw your head back as he rubbed your clit. Curses leaving your lips as your brows furrowed and your back arched.

“Cum for me…” his gravely voice demanded. He pressed himself so deep in you still playing with your clit. Your voice trembled and got higher pitched.

“Lo-lo-lo-loooo…” you squealed, the feeling that build up in your body finally release itself. You came hard, your back arched as he watched you convulse on the desk, squeezing him, only making him reach his own release. Sending pools of hot white cum in you again.

Nothing else mattered in this moment than the two of you. Out of breath as you tried to catch it, you started laughing. “Oh, my god…I can’t believe we did that.” He returned the sentiment, pulling out of you. He grabbed some paper towels from his desk, handed you some, and wiped only the tip off.

“But you don’t regret it, do you?” He asked, tossing it in the trash. His arms wrapped around your back, assisting you to sit up. Your eyes met his still in a trance from the previous engagement.

”What?! No!…that was the best lay I’ve had in years.” You responded, kissing him sweetly on his lips.

Logan looked down and chuckled. He grabbed your chin with his free hand, “I can be your only lay, from here on out.”

You smiled, still not trying to come across overly eager, “…Sure Mr. Howlett. I’d like that.”

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