masterlist
guess i need one of these now lol
most recent:
how did it end? - lando norris
busy - lando norris
play pretend - lando norris
late night talking - oscar piastri
Keep reading
cool guys don’t look at explosions
AN IMPORTANT MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR!
welcome to my masterlist! you can find all of my works as of now under the cut, and here's a masterlist key to help you navigate your way through!
masterlist key: — social media au - ✧ — fic - ✶ — drabbles - ✫ — headcanons - ᕯ
fuck being underrated ✧ : the one where Max is dating his team principal's daugther, who happens to be the hottest model of the year.
third time's the charm ✧ : the one where you are there to celebrate Max winning his third title, and the whole world is there to witness it.
two sides of the same coin ✶ : the one where you try to convince yourself that you're not falling for your teammate, but can't help it when you realise that he is not that different from you after all.
beach read ✶ : the one where you and Max go on a holiday for the first time, and you realize just how much you love 'Vacation Max'.
viva las vegas (+18) ✶ : the one where you and Max celebrate his win in a way you’ve never done before. [minors dni!]
prison for life ✶ : the one where if anybody hurts you, Max is going to prison for life.
how you get the girl ✶ : the one where you and your boyfriend Charles attend a gala for a friend and run into Harry Styles – who happens to be your ex.
in my lover era! ✧ : the one where Charles becomes a Swiftie because of his girlfriend.
like real people do (+18) ✶ : the one where you are having sex with your boyfriend, Charles, for the first time but he wants everything to be perfect for you. [minors dni!]
you'll change your name or change your mind ✶ : the one where you find your way back home, even if the journey takes longer than you think.
this is a relationship, that i don't think anyone saw coming ✶ : the one where you and Charles think you are successfully fooling everyone on the grid, when in reality you are the ones being fooled.
the name game ✶ : the one where you and Charles try to get through one of the first hardships of parenthood.
lean on you ✶ : the one where you learn to lean on Charles more than you thought you ever could.
red, white, blue's in the sky ✧ : the one where Charles has an olympian girlfriend.
T.G.I.F ✶ : the one where writing your thesis is harder than you think, but Charles is here to help you through all of it.
pon de replay (+18) ✶ : the one where Charles decide to prove to everyone that it is him that you belong to, and only him. [minors dni!]
the smallest man who ever lived ✶ : the one where you’re thrown into a conundrum when you learn the news of your husband, Charles’, infidelity.
you can check out the rest of the series from here!
nonesense ✧ : the one where you and Daniel fall in love with a song, so you must share it with the whole internet.
girl crush ✶ : the one where both you and Daniel meet your celebrity crushes in the course of a weekend, and decide to give it a go.
you can check out the rest of the series from here!
redbull gives you wings ✧ : the one where red bull brings together people, again..
good riddance ✧ : the one where internet discovers that Lando's girlfriend is a singer, who happens to be on a world tour.
short stack ✧ : the one where the internet is obsessed about the height difference between you and your boyfriend, Lando.
déjà vu (beyoncé’s version) ✶ : the one where a bad prank leads to you and Lando exploring an option you thought was not an option.
bad idea right? ✶ : the one where seeing Lando tonight is a bad idea, right?
greedy ✧ : the one where lando finds a certain singer cute.
a vettel and a schumacher walk into a bar ✶ : the one where Mick is dating Seb's eldest daughter, but forgets to mention this to his mentor and close friend. another problem? he can't seem to keep his eyes (or his hands) off of you.
you can check out the rest of the series from here!
heartbreak hotel ✧ : the one where you run into your ex, Mick, at Las Vegas, and chaos ensues.
baby honey ✶ : the one where Arthur swear he's not thinking about you, his best friend, all the time – just today, yesterday, and tomorrow night.
eight words when i think about us (+18) ✶ : the one where Coachella has both you and Lewis high on each other. [minors dni!]
he's a genius ('cause he loves a woman like her) ✧ : the one where you and Lewis (attempt to) soft launch your relationship.
hot girls support 44 ✫ : the one where your husband realises that you are, indeed, his number one fan.
what you do to me (+18) ✶ : the one where Lewis returns home to you – the one thing he desperately wants, but won't let himself have completely. [minors dni!]
partition (+18) ✶ : the one where you and Lewis are stuck in traffic in Paris, and decide to make the most of the situation. [minors dni!]
feather ✶ : the one where Pierre is the one left mourning after your relationship ends.
all around the world (pretty girls) ✧ : the one where the internet finds out about you and Pierre's relationship.
the lusty month of may (+18) ✶ : the one where it's that darling month when everyone throws self-control away, and you and Carlos decide to do a wretched thing – or two. [minors dni!]
mr.big ✧ : the one where there he was, wearing armani on a sunday, your boyfriend, Carlos.
you can check out the rest of the series from here!
kiss it better ✶: the one where a crazy idea turns out to be the best possible thing for you and Lance.
©𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗓𝖺𝖻𝖾𝖾 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟥. 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗏𝖺𝗂𝗅𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗋 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝗌.
“They’re still calling you Daniel. Thank you, Daniel.”
Deadpool: *on fire*
Wolverine: STAY STILL *trying to use him to light his cigar*
There's hope 🫶🫶🫶
Lando: “Never give up Max. Never give up. You know, like, this *points to his golf ball which is closer to the hole* is Verstappen here and that *points to MF’s ball farther away* is me over there. There’s hope.”
Max: “There is hope” 🥹
+ bonus
Lando: *Singing angsty cowboy music* “Grown men do cry. Nothing wrong with crying.😒”
THIS IS THE CUTEST THING I HAVE READ AND I WILL SOB
summary: max verstappen has never been one to read books, but everything changes when he comes across a pretty booktuber who describes him better than anyone else did before
word count: 8.2k + social media posts
folkie radio: another one of my babies finally sees the light of day 🥹 this fic is really special and i was lowkey gatekeeping it but i feel ready to share it, plss take care of it <3 i hope you like it
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
Max Verstappen was bored.
It was late and he was alone in his hotel room. He had a race the following day and he knew better than staying up late. His team was already on his ass for sim racing at ungodly hours of the night when he had a race, but nevertheless, he was bored and not sleepy yet.
He scrolled through his phone, not really paying attention to what popped up on his Instagram feed, Tiktok for you page or Twitter timeline.
After a few minutes, his finger landed on the YouTube app, one that he barely used if he was completely honest, but for some reason he never deleted it.
A bunch of videos showed up on his main page, most of them about F1, gaming, fitness or cats. He scrolled through the thumbnails absentmindedly until one title caught his eye: "Formula 1 Drivers as Romance Book Character Tropes."
Max had no idea how that video ended up in his suggestions page. He wasn't much of a reader—he had only read two books in his entire life, for crying out loud— but curiosity got the better of him. He clicked on the video.
The screen shifted to a bright and lively setup, where a young woman with vibrant energy and a contagious smile greeted her viewers. "Hey everyone! Welcome back to my channel. Today, we have a fun video where I'll be pairing Formula 1 drivers with romance book tropes!"
Max found himself smiling for some reason, he thought she was really engaging and funny — and really pretty—. He leaned back against his pillows, more intrigued by the second.
"As some of you might already know, books are not my only passion, I'm also a huge Formula 1 fan since I was a little kid thanks to my dad, so I thought it would be fun to do a little crossover of my two obsessions."
Max grinned again, finding himself oddly invested in this unexpected combination of romance literature and Formula 1. Or maybe just mesmerized by the pretty girl who was talking on his screen.
"Let's begin with Mercedes," she said, clapping her hands together, "Lewis Hamilton is definitely our 'Charming Prince Charming.' He's got the looks, the talent, and that air of royalty about him."
Max chuckled, thinking it was a fitting description for his rival.
"Now for George Russell," she continued, "I'm going with 'The Boy Next Door Who Grew Up Hot.' I mean, have you seen his glow-up?"
Max chuckled again, nodding in agreement. George had indeed transformed quite a bit since his Williams days.
"Moving on to Ferrari," she continued enthusiastically. Max wondered if that was her favorite team on the grid, "Charles Leclerc is our classic 'Childhood Best Friend You've Always Had a Crush On.' He's got that sweet, familiar charm, but with a spark that makes your heart race every time you see him."
Max raised an eyebrow, surprised by the change in description. He had to admit, it fit Charles quite well.
"And for Carlos Sainz," she paused dramatically, "he's either our 'Older Brother's Best Friend' or the 'Bad Guy Who's Mean to Everyone but His Sweetheart', just think about it, he's got that rugged exterior, but you just know he's a total sweetheart deep down."
Max laughed, realizing she had Carlos pegged perfectly. He watched with growing interest as she continued.
"Now, let's talk about McLaren," she said with a sparkle in her eye. "Lando Norris is our 'Adorkable Comedian Who Steals Your Heart.' He's funny, relatable, and has a way of making you fall for him before you even realize it," Max grinned at the description of his good friend, "And Oscar Piastri... he's 'The Shy Genius.' Quiet, reserved, but incredibly talented and intelligent. He might not be the loudest in the room, but he's someone you'd definitely want on your side."
Max nodded in agreement, thinking of how Oscar had impressed everyone since joining McLaren. She continued pairing each driver with a character trope, she described Daniel as the "Life of the Party with a Sensitive Soul," highlighting his infectious energy and hidden depths. Pierre was dubbed the "Resilient Underdog," emphasizing his ability to bounce back from setbacks. Yuki was described as the "Fiery Spitfire with a Soft Center" and Logan was labeled the "Rookie with Untapped Potential," suggesting a character arc of growth and discovery.
With each driver's description, Max's anticipation grew. He found himself eagerly awaiting his own characterization, both curious and slightly apprehensive about how the pretty girl with an obsession with books and Formula 1 would describe him.
When she finally got to Red Bull, he sat up a little straighter, his interest piqued.
"Now for Sergio Perez," she said, "he's our 'Loyal Wingman Who Deserves His Own Happy Ending.' Always there to support, but with a story of his own waiting to be told."
Max nodded, thinking it was a pretty accurate description of his teammate.
"And finally, saved the best for last," she said, her eyes twinkling, "we have Max Verstappen."
Max held his breath, oddly nervous about how this stranger would categorize him.
"Max is our 'Misunderstood Hero with a Heart of Gold,'" she said with a warm smile. "Often perceived as cold or distant, but actually deeply caring and protective of those close to him. He's the type who shows his love through actions rather than words."
Max felt his cheeks warm significantly. This description caught him completely off guard. It wasn't the usual 'aggressive driver' or 'arrogant champion' narrative he was used to hearing. Instead, it felt... true. Uncomfortably true. He wasn't sure how to feel about being seen so accurately by a stranger.
As the video ended after she said her goodbyes, Max found himself staring at his phone screen, replaying her words in his mind, his thumb hovering over the comment section. He had never left a comment on a YouTube video before, but something about this one compelled him to break that habit.
After a moment's hesitation, he tapped the comment box and began typing, Once he was done, he paused, reading over his words. It felt strange, almost vulnerable, to acknowledge her characterization of him. But there was also something liberating about it. He added a thumbs-up emoji at the end and hit 'Post' before he could second-guess himself.
As Max set his phone down and settled into bed, a small smile played on his lips. He had a important race the following day, but all he wanted to think and dream about was the pretty stranger who had somehow seen through his carefully crafted public persona.
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liked by username1, username2 and 10,725 others
f1gossip “I went to bed early last night. Just listened to the team’s orders, you know?”
Max Verstappen for media day today, however he left a comment on a YouTube video around 2:46 am 😭
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username1 HES SOOOOO
username2 the fact that he left a comment on a BOOKTUBER’S channel MAX VERSTAPPEN YOU DONT EVEN READ BOOKS 😭
username3 he looks so pretty tho
username4 MAX WE ALL SAW YOU
username5 max was actually checking which romance trope is him according to booktubers
username6 HES SO RANDOM
username7 max’s search history: lestappen as fictional couples
liked by username1, username2 and 102,438 others
ynreadsbooks in honor of max verstappen x3 world champion commenting on my latest video (which is insane to say out loud wtf) should i do another f1 themed video?? any suggestions?
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username1 YES QUEEN
username2 that max comment was so random but so real
username3 max verstappen, the man who has read two books in 27 years watching booktubers was not on my bingo card
username4 @/maxverstappen1 you favorite youtuber will do another video about you
username5 BOOKS WITH RACING THEMES
username6 books inspired by f1 circuits would be fun
username7 @/maxverstappen drop a suggestion
maxverstappen1 started following ynreadsbooks
liked by username1, username2 and 15,836 others
f1gossip Max Verstappen was seen outside of a bookshop in Monaco today !
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username1 BABYYYY
username2 max ??? bookshop ????
username3 WHAT SHIFTED
username4 he thought it was jimmyz
username5 HEELPP what is he doing there
username6 hello i work there. he arrived with a list of books in hand that he wanted, he bought around 15 action and fantasy books
↳ username1 FOR REAL???
↳ username2 max said book girl summer
↳ username3 this is so random
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If someone had told Max that this year he would spend his summer break reading, he would've laughed at their faces. Yet here he was, lounging by the pool in his Monaco house, a book in his hands and a smile on his face.
As he turned the page of "The Martian," the latest sci-fi recommendation from YN, Max couldn't help but reflect on how different this summer break was.
Usually, his days off were filled with lavish yacht parties, exclusive clubs, or intense training sessions and hours of sim racing to stay sharp for the second half of the season. But now, he found himself eagerly devouring books and spending hours chatting with YN about plots, characters, and everything in between.
As the weeks passed, Max found himself growing increasingly close to YN, despite never having met her in person. Their text conversations flowed effortlessly, ranging from in-depth discussions about the books they were reading to playful banter about racing and life in general.
Max was surprised by how much he enjoyed her company, even in this digital form. Her wit, intelligence, and genuine interest in his thoughts beyond his racing persona were refreshing. He found himself sharing things he rarely discussed with others, and looking forward to her messages became a highlight of his day.
He also thought she was absolutely gorgeous.
As if on cue, his phone buzzed with a new message from her.
Max chuckled, about to reply when he heard the doorbell. He remembered Lando and Daniel were coming over for dinner. As he got up to let them in, he quickly typed a response, telling her that he would talk to her later.
"Well, well, well," Daniel's voice boomed as Max opened the door. "If it isn't the newly minted bookworm of Formula 1!"
Lando peered around Daniel's shoulder, "I half expected to find you wearing glasses and a sweater vest, mate."
"Very funny, guys. Come in," Max rolled his eyes as he stepped away from the door.
Ever since his friends noticed his brand new habit, they took it upon themselves to tease him whenever they could. As they made their way to the backyard, Daniel spotted the book on the lounger.
"The Martian?" he read, picking it up. "Isn't this a bit advanced for your reading level, Maxy?"
"Ha ha," Max deadpanned, snatching the book back. "It's actually really good. It's about this astronaut who gets stranded on Mars and has to use science and engineering to survive-"
"Whoa, whoa," Lando interrupted, holding up his hands. "Who are you and what have you done with Max Verstappen?"
Daniel draped an arm around Max's shoulders. "I think our boy here is trying to impress a certain bookish YouTuber. What was her name again? YN?"
Max felt his cheeks warm. "It's not like that. We just... talk about books and stuff."
"And stuff," Daniel repeated, wiggling his eyebrows. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"
Max rolled his eyes, trying to brush off their teasing. "Seriously, it's not like that. We just have a lot in common."
Daniel and Lando exchanged knowing glances before bursting into laughter.
"Sure, mate," Daniel said, patting Max on the back. "Whatever you say."
They settled by the pool, beers in hand, and started chatting about the upcoming races and their plans for the rest of the summer. Despite the playful ribbing, Max found himself genuinely enjoying their company. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his friends.
As the evening wore on, the conversation eventually circled back to Max's books and his little friend on his phone.
"So, Max," Lando started, a mischievous glint in his eye, "have you color-coded your bookshelf yet? Or are you more of a chronological order kind of guy?"
"Nah, mate. I bet he organizes them by how many times YN has mentioned them," Daniel chimed in, "Top shelf is probably her favorites, right Maxy?"
Max felt his cheeks flush, but he couldn't help grinning. "You two are impossible."
"When are you finally going to meet her in person anyway?" Lando said, sipping from his beer.
Max shrugged nonchalantly, trying to hide the slight flutter in his chest. "I don't know. That's not something I've really thought about,"
He lied. In truth, the thought of meeting YN had crossed his mind countless times. The idea of finally seeing the girl who had captivated him with her intelligence, humor, and beauty made his heart race. He'd catch himself daydreaming about her smile, wondering if it was as warm and infectious in person as it seemed in her videos. But he wasn't ready to admit that to his friends just yet.
Lando and Daniel exchanged a look, clearly not buying Max's nonchalant act.
"Oh come on," Lando scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "You expect us to believe that? You've been glued to your phone for weeks, mate."
"I bet he's already planned their first date," Daniel leaned in, "What'll it be, Max? A romantic book reading by candlelight? Or maybe a visit to the library?"
Max felt his cheeks heating up again. "It's not like that, guys. We're just friends."
"Friends who talk every day and have you blushing like a schoolgirl," Lando teased, nudging Max with his elbow.
"I do not blush like a schoolgirl," Max protested, knowing full well that his face was probably bright red by now.
"Sure, sure," Daniel said with a wink. "Just friends. So, have you at least thought about inviting her to a race? You know, show her what you do when you're not reading about Mars?"
"Why would I invite her to a race, that would be weird," Max protested again, "And she already knows what I do, she's a fan of the sport."
"Man, you're so stubborn sometimes," Lando rolled his eyes at him, "If you like this girl, why don't you invite her to a race? It could be a great way to finally meet in person."
"And who said that I liked her," once again, Max's defensive self came through.
Daniel and Lando shared an exasperated look before turning back to Max.
"Come on, mate," Daniel said, his tone gentler now. "It's pretty obvious. We've never seen you this invested in someone before. Not to mention, you're reading books voluntarily for the first time since... well, ever."
"It's written all over your face," Lando said, shaking his head. "You like her, and there's no shame in that. You light up every time your phone buzzes. It's kind of adorable, actually."
Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew his friends were right, but admitting it out loud felt like a big step. "Okay, fine. Maybe I do like her. But it's complicated, you know? We've never even met in person."
"That's exactly why you should invite her to a race," Lando insisted. "It's the perfect opportunity. She gets to see you in your element, and you get to finally meet face-to-face."
"Plus," Daniel added with a mischievous grin, "if things go well, you can always show her your trophy collection. I hear that's a great way to impress the ladies."
Max couldn't help but laugh at that. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"
"Maybe," Daniel shrugged, "but I'm also right. What have you got to lose?"
Max pondered this for a moment. The idea of meeting YN in person both thrilled and terrified him. What if they didn't click in real life the way they did over text? But then again, what if they did?
"I'll think about it," Max finally conceded.
Lando and Daniel exchanged triumphant grins.
"That's our boy," Lando said, patting his back.
After a few more beers and food, Lando and Daniel left.
As the night deepened, Max found himself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The conversation with Lando and Daniel kept replaying in his mind. His phone sat on the nightstand, silent but somehow still demanding his attention.
Max's thoughts raced. Should he text YN? Invite her to Zandvoort? The idea made his heart beat faster. He imagined seeing her in person for the first time, wondering if her smile would be as pretty as it was in her videos. But doubt crept in too. What if things were awkward? What if the chemistry they had online didn't translate to real life?
He rolled onto his side, eyeing his phone. The urge to reach out to her was strong, as it always was. Max realized that Lando and Daniel were right - he did like her. A lot. The thought of meeting her filled him with equal parts excitement and nervousness.
Taking a deep breath, Max grabbed his phone. Before he could overthink it, he started typing.
Hey YN, hope I'm not messaging too late. I was wondering if you'd like to come to the Dutch GP at Zandvoort? It's the first race after the summer break, and my home race. Thought it might be fun if you could make it.
He hit send before he could second-guess himself. The wait for her response felt eternal. When his phone finally buzzed, Max's heart leapt.
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liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 286,375 others
ynreadsbooks this week’s video will be delayed for some ~personal reasons ☺️
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username1 GIRL
username2 ARE YOU GOING WHERE I THINK YOU’RE GOING
username3 f1 x books this is literally me
username4 hot girls support max verstappen
username5 ahh if she’s going to the gp i’ll be so happy bc she’s a huge fan
username6 the way roles reversed and now max is his fan 😭
redbullracing We can’t wait 💙
↳ username1 REDBULL???
↳ username2 AHHH THEY PROBABLY INVITED HER
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As Max headed to Zandvoort Circuit for the Dutch Grand Prix, he felt the familiar weight of expectations settling on his shoulders.
The second half of the season loomed ahead, and the pressure to maintain his championship lead was on. He knew the team was counting on him to deliver strong results, especially at his home race where the orange-clad fans would be out in full force.
But amidst the pressure and responsibility, there was another emotion bubbling up inside him - a giddy excitement that he couldn't quite contain.
The thought of finally meeting YN in person after months of texts, calls, and shared book recommendations made his heart race in a way that had nothing to do with driving at a car at a very fast speed.
As he drove to the track, Max found himself smiling at random moments, his mind drifting to imagine what it would be like to see her smile in person, to hear her laugh without the filter of a phone call.
Max realized that for the first time in a long while, he was looking forward to a race weekend for reasons that extended beyond the track.
Unfortunately, his busy schedule kept them from meeting right away. Media commitments, team briefings, and practice sessions consumed his time, leaving him feeling frustrated and guilty for not being able to see her sooner. He sent her a quick message apologizing for the delay, promising they'd meet after qualifying.
As he made his way to the garage, a familiar voice called out behind him.
"Oi, Max! Ready for the big day?"
Max turned to see Daniel jogging up to him, his trademark grin in place.
"Yeah, should be a good quali," Max replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
Daniel raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't talking about qualifying, mate. Your special guest arrives today, right?"
Max felt his cheeks warm. "How did you even remember that?"
"Please," Daniel scoffed. "It's all you've been talking about for weeks. So, have you met her yet?"
"No, my schedule's been packed. We're supposed to meet after quali."
"Ah, saving the best for last, eh?" Daniel's grin widened, "Smart move. Nothing like the adrenaline of a good qualifying session to make a great first impression."
"Or to completely mess it up," Max muttered.
"Hey, none of that," Daniel clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll be fine. Just be yourself. She already likes you for who you are, remember?"
Max nodded, feeling a bit reassured. "Thanks, Dan."
With a deep breath, Max headed into the garage, Daniel's words echoing in his mind.
Qualifying went smoothly, with Max securing a front row start to the delight of the Dutch fans. The cheers of the home crowd were deafening as he climbed out of the car, but his mind was elsewhere.
After the post-qualifying interviews, Max sent YN a quick text letting her know that he was free now and she let him know that she was around the hospitality area.
As he walked towards there, Max spotted YN standing near one of the motorhomes, looking around with wide eyes. She hadn't seen him yet, and for a moment, Max just watched her, taking in the sight of the girl who had been on his mind for months now.
She was even more gorgeous in person than he had imagined.
Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she took in the bustling paddock around her. The way the sunlight caught her hair, the gentle curve of her smile as she observed everything with wonder - it all took Max's breath away.
He noticed little details he couldn't have seen through a screen: the way her eyes sparkled, the subtle freckles across her nose, the graceful way she moved as she looked around.
Taking a deep breath, Max walked over, his heart pounding. "YN?"
She turned, her face lighting up with a radiant smile that made Max's breath catch. "Max! Finally!"
They moved toward each other, and without hesitation, Max pulled her into a hug. The embrace felt natural, as if they'd done this a hundred times before. He was aware of how perfectly she fit in his arms, the subtle scent of her perfume, and the warmth of her body against his.
"It's so good to finally meet you," he murmured into her hair. "I'm so sorry it took so long, this weekend's been crazy."
She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with understanding in her eyes. "It's okay, Max. That qualifying was amazing! I've never experienced anything like it."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Come on, let me show you around."
He took her hand and he was struck by how natural it felt. Her fingers intertwined with his perfectly, and a warm sensation spread from their joined hands throughout his body.
They strolled through the paddock, Max pointing out the various team motorhomes, the garages, and the media center. YN was all wide-eyed fascination, asking questions and soaking in every detail. As they walked, Max found himself relaxing more and more, his previous nerves about their chemistry being gone fading away.
As they rounded a corner, they nearly bumped into Lando Norris. Who couldn't help but smirk at the sight of their hands intertwined.
"You guys met already!" he cheerfully said, "You must be YN."
Her cheeks flushed, clearly surprised that Max had mentioned her to his friends. Max felt a warmth spread through his chest at her reaction.
"Yeah, this is YN," Max said, unable to keep the smile off his face, "Meet Lando, the perpetual pain in my ass."
"Nice to finally meet the girl who's got Max reading," YN laughed, and Lando extended his hand, "Quite the accomplishment."
"Nice to meet you too, Lando," YN said, shaking his hand. "I've enjoyed watching you race, I'm a big fan. Congrats on the pole position."
"Cheers," Lando replied, then turned to Max with a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, has he bored you with car talk yet, or has he actually remembered how to discuss books?"
Max rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Shouldn't you be preparing for tomorrow, Lando?"
"Alright, alright, I can take a hint," Lando chuckled. "Enjoy your tour, lovebirds!"
As Lando walked away, Max felt a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. He glanced at YN, relieved to see her smiling.
"Sorry about him," Max said, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Lando has a way of making everything awkward."
YN laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. "It's fine. He seems like fun."
They continued their walk, finally making their way to the rooftop terrace of the Red Bull hospitality area. The view was stunning, offering a panoramic look at the circuit and the sea of orange-clad fans below.
"This is incredible," YN said, leaning against the railing and taking it all in. "Thank you for showing me around, Max."
"Of course," Max said, standing beside her. "I'm really glad you could come."
They stood there for a moment, enjoying the view and each other's company. Max felt a sense of contentment wash over him, the stress of the weekend melting away in her presence.
"Max," YN said softly, turning to face him. "I know this weekend is important for you, and I don't want to be a distraction. But I'm really happy to be here and to finally meet you."
"You're not a distraction," Max replied, reaching out to take her hand again. "You're the best part of this weekend, honestly."
They shared a smile, Max was well aware of the butterflies that fluttered on his stomach and the high school girl blush his friends teased him about, but he didn't care. He felt happy with the pretty girl who had been his source of comfort for months, finally face to face.
"You know," YN said softly, "when I made that video calling you a misunderstood hero with a heart of gold, I never imagined I'd get to see it firsthand. But being here, seeing how you are with your team, with the fans… I was right about you, Max Verstappen."
Max felt a warmth spread through his chest at her words. He had always been guarded about his public image, but hearing her perspective meant more than he could ever imagine.
"I'm glad you think so," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "You know, that video... it changed things for me. Not just because it led to us talking, but because it made me reflect on a lot of things."
"Who would've thought," YN said with a smile, "When I recorded that video, I never thought you would ever see it, let alone have an impact on you and let alone lead us to talking and me being here."
"Everything happens for a reason, right?"
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ynreadsbooks best experience ever. thank you, thank you, THANK YOU 🥺💙
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username1 OMFGGGG
username2 no one deserved this more than her for real
username3 SHE MET MAX TOO?? DESERVED
redbullracing Come back soon! 😉
username4 red bull finally inviting people who actually love the sport
username5 GIRL WE NEED A VLOGGGG
username6 omg how did this happen spiiiill
↳ ynreadsbooks let's say i got invited by the world champion
↳ username1 WTF
↳ username2 so MAX invited her not redbull help he really did become a fan after that video
danielricciardo Hope to see you around soon, love ! 👀
↳ username3 how do i sign up for this
username7 THAT PIC OF MAX IS SO BOYFRIEND CODED
maxversteppen1 Thank you so much for coming and making this day special ☺️
↳ username1 OMG MAX
↳ username2 i'd be screaming if i was her
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maxverstappen1 Enjoyed every moment in Zandvoort with this amazing atmosphere and the best company 🧡
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username1 KIIING
username2 how can a man be so babygirl
username3 all smiles even tho he finished p2
danielricciardo 🦁🦁
landonorris Simply lovely
↳ username1 menace
username4 bro who got you smiling like that
ynreadsbooks ❤️
↳ username2 biggest max girlie
↳ username3 WE NEED THAT VLOG
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When it came time for YN to leave the Netherlands, Max insisted on driving her to the airport himself. The car ride was filled with comfortable silence and soft conversation, both of them trying to stretch out their remaining time together.
Despite their short time together, Max found himself completely smitten, captivated by YN's intelligence, humor, and the way her eyes lit up when she talked about books or reacted to the thrill of the race.
He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he was head over heels for her.
As they stood in the departure terminal, Max felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. He hesitated, his heart racing, but ultimately settled for a long, warm hug, breathing in her scent and committing it to memory. As he watched her walk through security, he already found himself missing her presence.
Now, a week later, Max was in Monza for the Italian Grand Prix. The day had been busy with media commitments and team meetings. Finally back in the quiet of his motorhome, Max flopped onto the couch, feeling drained but content. Without thinking, he reached for his phone and hit the FaceTime button next to YN's name.
Her smiling face appeared on the screen, and Max felt an immediate surge of warmth.
"Hey, you," she said, her voice soft and welcoming even through the phone's speakers.
"Hey," Max replied, unable to keep the grin off his face. "How's your day been?"
"Oh, you know, the usual. Editing videos, reading, missing the excitement of the paddock," YN teased. "How about you? Surviving the media circus?"
"Barely," Max groaned dramatically, "I swear, if I have to answer one more question about RedBull and their big mess, I might go mad."
YN laughed, the sound making Max's heart skip a beat. "Poor Max. Whatever shall we do to take your mind off your beloved team?"
"Well," Max said, shifting to get more comfortable, "I've been reading that new sci-fi book you recommended. 'The Martian-like Odyssey to Titan,' or whatever it's called."
"'Project Hail Mary,'" she corrected, "And? What do you think so far?"
"It's incredible!" Max's eyes lit up, "I mean, the science is fascinating, and the way the main character problem-solves is just... I don't know, it reminds me a bit of what we do in racing, you know? Constantly adapting, finding solutions on the fly."
"That's exactly why I thought you'd like it! The way Andy Weir writes about scientific problem-solving is so engaging."
They dove into an animated discussion about the book, Max marveling at how easily conversation flowed between them, how YN's passion for books was infectious. As they talked, a thought that had been brewing in Max's mind for days suddenly surfaced.
"YN," Max said, his voice softer than before. "There's actually something I've been wanting to ask you."
"Oh? What is it, Max?" she tilted her head, curiosity evident in her expression.
Max took a deep breath, suddenly feeling like he was about to qualify for a crucial race. "Well, I was wondering... have you ever been to Monaco?"
"No, actually, I haven't," YN's eyebrows raised in surprise, "It's always been on my travel wish list, though. Why do you ask?"
Max felt his heart rate pick up. He'd rehearsed this moment in his head countless times over the past few days, but now that it was here, he found himself fumbling for words.
"Well, you see, I have a two-week break coming up before the Baku GP, and I was thinking... maybe... if you're free, of course, and if you'd like to... you could come visit me in Monaco?"
The words tumbled out faster than he intended, and Max felt a blush creeping up his neck. He watched YN's face carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. His mind raced with possibilities - what if she said no? What if this was too forward?
YN's eyes widened, and for a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. "Oh, Max, that's... wow. That's really sweet of you to offer."
Max, sensing a hint of hesitation, quickly added, "You could stay at my place. I have plenty of room, and it would be great to have you around. Plus I have two adorable cats that I'm sure you'd love."
YN's expression softened, a mix of excitement and uncertainty in her eyes. "That sounds amazing, Max. But… are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose on your personal space or your time off."
Truth was, Max wanted to spent every free moment he had with her, but he wasn't sure how to let her know without sounding too forward or like a creep, so he just pressed on.
"You wouldn't be imposing at all, I promise. I really want us to spend more time together, away from the craziness of the race weekends. And I'd love to show you around Monaco."
He watched as YN bit her lip, considering his offer. The silence stretched for a moment, and Max found himself holding his breath.
"If you're not comfortable staying at my place," he added quickly, "I could book you a hotel room, or there are some great Airbnbs with amazing views of the harbor. Whatever makes you feel most at ease. I just… I really want to see you again."
As he spoke, Max realized just how true his words were. The thought of having YN in his space, sharing meals, exploring the city together - it filled him with a warmth he couldn't quite describe. It was more than just attraction; there was a comfort in her presence that he craved.
YN smiled, a warm look in her eyes. "You really mean that, don't you?"
"I do. Look, I know it might seem like a big ask, but I just... I can't stop thinking about how much fun we have together. And Monaco is beautiful this time of year. We could go for drives along the coast, have dinner at some amazing restaurants, or just relax by the pool if you prefer. No pressure, just... us. And well, the cats."
Max held his breath, waiting for her response. The thought of having YN in Monaco, of being able to spend uninterrupted time with her away from the pressures of the race weekend, made his heart soar. He imagined showing her his favorite spots in the city, maybe taking her out on his boat, or just lounging by the pool and talking for hours.
"Alright, Verstappen, you've convinced me. But I have one condition."
"Name it." Max grinned, relief and excitement washing over him.
"If I'm staying at your place, you have to let me cook my infamous waffles for breakfast. They're a secret family recipe, and I guarantee they'll be the best you've ever tasted."
"Deal," Max's smile widened, a burst of joy exploding in his chest. "But I warn you, I take my waffles very seriously. They better live up to the hype."
"Oh, they will. And I can't wait to meet the cats."
As they continued to chat and make plans for YN's visit, Max felt a warmth spreading through his chest. The prospect of having YN in his home, of waking up and knowing she was just in the next room, of being able to spend lazy mornings together over homemade waffles - it all seemed almost too good to be true.
He found himself imagining what it would be like to have her there. Would she curl up on his couch with a book? Would they watch the sunset from his terrace? Would he finally get the courage to kiss her?
The thought made his heart race. He remembered the moment at the airport when he had wanted so badly to kiss her goodbye. This time, he promised himself, he wouldn't let the opportunity pass by.
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The day of YN's arrival in Monaco had finally come, and Max felt like a giddy teenager preparing for his first date.
In the days leading up to YN's visit, Max had found himself unusually preoccupied with preparations. He wanted everything to be perfect for YN's stay. He'd bought new sheets for the guest bedroom, making sure they were the softest he could find. He'd stocked the fridge with an array of foods, unsure of her preferences but making sure to have options. He'd even gone so far as to buy a small collection of books he thought she might enjoy, arranging them carefully on the nightstand in her room.
The morning of her arrival, Max woke up early, his stomach a knot of excitement and nerves. He double-checked everything one last time - fresh towels in the bathroom, extra toiletries in case she forgot anything, a vase of fresh flowers on the kitchen counter to brighten up the space. He felt almost silly with how much effort he was putting in, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted everything to be perfect for the girl he was smitten with.
As the time to leave for the airport approached, Max found himself pacing, checking his watch every few minutes. He'd planned the route to the airport meticulously, factoring in potential traffic to make sure he'd be there in plenty of time. Just as he was about to grab his keys and head out, the doorbell rang.
Confused, Max paused. He wasn't expecting anyone - he'd made sure to clear his schedule completely for YN's visit. Frowning slightly, he opened the door to find Lando standing there, a wide grin on his face.
"Lando? What are you doing here?" Max asked, glancing at his watch.
"What, can't a mate drop by for a visit?" Lando replied, trying to peer past Max into the apartment. "Thought we could hang out, maybe play some FIFA."
Max shifted awkwardly, blocking the doorway. "Lando, mate, I'm actually just about to head out. I can't hang out right now."
"Oh, come on," Lando's grin faltered slightly, "Just for a bit? We haven't had a proper catch-up in ages."
"I'm sorry, I really can't," Max insisted, glancing at his watch nervously. "I have to pick up a friend from the airport."
Lando's eyes narrowed suspiciously, a mischievous glint appearing. "A friend, huh? Is it that your book dream girl? You're flying her out over here?"
Max felt his face heat up, a blush creeping up his neck. He tried to deny it, but his reaction gave him away.
"It is! Oh man, this is brilliant," Lando's eyes widened in delight, "Max Verstappen, blushing like a schoolboy over a girl."
"Shut up," Max grumbled, but there was no real annoyance in his voice. He couldn't help but smile.
"So, YN is finally gracing Monaco with her presence," Lando teased. "No wonder you've been so distracted lately. When do I get to hang out with her?"
"You don't," Max rolled his eyes, "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go."
"Alright, alright," Lando stepped aside, still grinning. "But I want details later, yeah? And tell YN I said hi."
Max waved him off, hurrying to his car. Despite Lando's teasing, he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. The excitement was bubbling up inside him again as he drove to the airport.
As he parked and made his way to the arrivals area, Max felt his nerves almost making him want to throw up. He found himself fidgeting, alternating between pacing and sitting, his eyes glued to the arrivals board.
Finally, he saw that YN's flight had landed. His heart rate picked up as he watched the doors, scanning the crowd for her familiar face. And then, suddenly, there she was.
YN emerged from the arrivals gate, looking a bit tired from the journey but still radiant. Her eyes scanned the crowd, and when they landed on Max, her face lit up with a brilliant smile.
Max felt his breath catch in his throat. He raised his hand in a small wave, a grin spreading across his face as he walked towards her.
"Hey, Max," she said as she reached him, her voice warm and slightly breathless.
"Hey," he replied, suddenly feeling shy. "How was your flight?"
Without thinking, he pulled her into a hug. As he wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the scent of her hair, he felt a sense of rightness wash over him. It was as if all the pieces were falling into place.
"It was good, just long," she hugged him back tightly. "I'm so glad to be here though."
As they pulled apart, Max found himself reluctant to let go completely. He kept one hand on her back as he reached for her suitcase with the other. "Here, let me get that for you."
"Always the gentleman," YN teased, but her smile was soft and appreciative.
As they walked towards the exit, Max found himself stealing glances at her, still hardly believing she was really here. "So, um, I thought we could grab some lunch if you're hungry? Or if you're tired, we can head straight to my place so you can rest."
YN considered for a moment. "Lunch sounds great, actually. I'm starving, and I'm too excited to sleep just yet. I want to see Monaco."
Max chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at her enthusiasm. "Lunch it is then. I know just the place – it has a great view of the harbor."
As they made their way to Max's car, chatting easily about YN's flight and Max's plans for her visit, Max felt a sense of contentment he hadn't experienced in a long time. The nervousness from earlier had melted away, replaced by pure happiness.
Loading YN's suitcase into the trunk, Max caught her eye and smiled. "I'm really glad you're here, YN."
She returned his smile, her eyes sparkling. "Me too, Max. Me too."
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ynreadsbooks roomates for the week 🥺
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username1 AWEEE
username2 those are cute kittens
username3 those look like max verstappen's cats
username4 JIMMY AND SASSY VERSTAPPEN??
↳ username1 how CRAZY would it be
danielricciardo Don't hesitate to shout if he's much trouble
↳ username2 HOLD ON??
↳ ynreadsbooks he's just fine don't worry 😅
↳ username3 IS SHE REALLY WITH MAX??
↳ maxverstappen1 I'm not trouble...
↳ username1 OMFGGG
↳ username4 THIS PLOT TWIST
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Three days had passed since YN's arrival in Monaco, and Max couldn't remember a time when he'd been happier.
True to her word, YN had cooked her infamous waffles for breakfast on the second morning of her stay. As Max had taken his first bite, his eyes had widened in surprise and delight. The waffles were light and crispy on the outside, yet fluffy on the inside, with a perfect balance of sweetness and a hint of vanilla. He'd declared them the best he'd ever tasted, earning a proud smile from her.
The days that followed had been filled with laughter, conversation, and exploration. They'd spent hours by Max's pool, talking about everything and nothing. YN would often bring a book, reading aloud passages that she found particularly interesting or amusing, while Max listened, content to hear her voice and watch the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about something she loved.
They'd explored Monaco together, with Max showing YN his favorite spots and discovering new ones together. He'd taken her to the Monte Carlo Casino, where they'd marveled at the architecture and people-watched. They'd strolled through the streets of Monaco-Ville, the old town, where YN had been enchanted by the colorful buildings. They'd even spent an afternoon at the Oceanographic Museum, where YN's enthusiasm for learning had been infectious, and Max had found himself just as excited as she was about the marine life exhibits.
Throughout it all, Max felt himself falling deeper for her. It wasn't just her beauty or her intelligence that captivated him, but the way she saw the world. Her curiosity, her kindness, her ability to find joy in the smallest things - it all made Max see his surroundings through new eyes. He found himself noticing details he'd never paid attention to before, appreciating moments he might have otherwise overlooked.
What struck Max most was how easy and right it all felt. There was no pressure, no awkwardness. Being with YN was as natural as breathing. They could talk for hours without running out of things to say, but they were also comfortable in silence, simply enjoying each other's presence.
As they returned from another long day of exploring the city, both Max and YN retreated to their respective rooms to change into more comfortable clothing. Max opted for a soft t-shirt and sweatpants, relishing the feeling of being relaxed and at ease in his own home.
When he emerged from his room, he found YN already settled on his couch, her legs tucked under her, a book in her hands and one of his cats curling beside her. She was wearing one the t-shirt she picked the night she arrived when she realized she forgot to pack pajamas. It was too big for her frame but Max felt like melting knowing she was wearing his shirt.
The sight made Max's heart skip a beat. There was something so intimate and domestic about the scene - YN looking completely at home in his space, in his clothes, absorbed in a book as if she'd always been there.
Max couldn't help but smile, a warmth spreading through his chest. He found himself wanting this view in his life every day - coming home to find YN there, comfortable and content. The thought both thrilled and terrified him. He'd never felt this way about anyone before, never wanted to intertwine his life so completely with another person's.
YN looked up from her book, catching Max's gaze. Her lips curved into a soft smile. "Hey. Want to join me?"
Without hesitation, Max crossed the room. Instead of sitting next to her, he surprised both of them by lying down on the couch and resting his head in her lap. He looked up at her, his eyes vulnerable. "Would you read to me?"
YN's expression softened, her eyes twinkling with affection. "Of course," she said, her free hand moving to gently run her fingers through his hair.
Max closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation. He felt her shift slightly, getting comfortable, and then her voice filled the air, soft and melodious as she began to read.
Max's lips curved into a smile. "Emma," he murmured. "I remember you mentioning it was one of your favorites."
YN paused her reading, looking down at him with surprise and pleasure. "You remembered that?"
"Of course," Max opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. "I remember everything you tell me."
A huge grin appeared in YN's face, and she bent down to press a soft kiss to Max's forehead. The gesture was so natural, so tender, that it made Max's heart flutter.
As she continued to read, her fingers still combing through his hair, Max found himself only half-listening to the words. Instead, he was acutely aware of every point of contact between them - the warmth of her lap under his head, the gentle touch of her fingers, the soft cadence of her voice washing over him.
In that moment, Max realized with startling clarity that this was what he wanted for the rest of his life. Not just the glamour of racing or the thrill of victory, but this - quiet moments of intimacy, the comfort of being with someone who understood him, who made him want to be better.
He reached up, gently taking YN's free hand in his own, intertwining their fingers. She paused in her reading, looking down at him with a question in her eyes.
"YN," Max said softly, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm really glad you're here."
She squeezed his hand, her smile radiant. "So am I, Max. So am I."
As she resumed reading, her voice mixing with the soft sound of the Mediterranean breeze outside, Max closed his eyes again, a sense of peace settling over him. Whatever the future held, he knew that this moment, this feeling, was something he'd cherish forever.
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username1 GIRL
username2 THIS ESCALATED QUICKLY
username3 how do you go from max randomly commenting one of your videos to this
username4 girl we can tell that's max dw 😭😭
username5 YOU OWE US A TWO HOUR STORYTIME VIDEO
username6 anything you want to tell us best friend?
username7 she just had a book and a dream fr
landonorris Has he bored you yet?
↳ username1 IM DYING
↳ username2 she really masterminded her way into the f1 circle
↳ ynreadsbooks he's nice, makes good smoothies 😉
↳ maxverstappen1 Good to know that ❤️
↳ landonorris I'm disgusted
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As the final day of YN's stay in Monaco dawned, Max found himself feeling so many bittersweet emotions. The past week had been nothing short of magical, and the thought of it coming to an end left a hollow feeling in his chest. She hadn't even left yet, and already he missed her.
For their final day, Max had decided to take YN out on his yacht. He wanted their last hours together to be special, just the two of them away from the bustling streets of Monaco. As they prepared for the day, packing a picnic and gathering sunscreen and towels, Max couldn't help but reflect on the past week.
Daniel and Lando had teased him mercilessly about his sudden disappearance from their usual hangouts. They'd made jokes about Max being "whipped" and how he'd fallen hard for his "YouTube dream girl." But Max didn't care. He was too happy, too caught up in the bubble of joy that surrounded him and YN.
As they boarded the yacht, the Mediterranean stretching out before them in shades of turquoise, Max felt a pang in his chest. This perfect week was coming to an end, and he wasn't sure he was ready to face reality again.
Once they were out on the open water. YN leaned over the railing, a look of wonder on her face.
"This is incredible, Max," she said, turning to him with a dazzling smile. "I can't believe I'm here, experiencing all of this."
Max moved to stand beside her, their shoulders brushing. "I'm going to miss you," he said softly, "This week has been… I don't even have words for it."
"I'm going to miss you too, Max. So much. But you know I have to go back home. I have videos to make for my channel, work stuff to catch up on…"
Max nodded, understanding but not liking it. "Maybe you could make a video about 'A Week with an F1 Driver'? I'm sure your subscribers would love that."
YN laughed, playfully shoving his shoulder. "Oh yes, I'm sure that would go over well. 'Day 3: Watched Max eat his bodyweight in pasta. Day 5: Learned that F1 drivers are actually big babies when they lose at Mario Kart.'"
"I am not a baby!" Max gasped in mock offense. "I'm just… competitive."
"Uh-huh, sure," she teased, her eyes twinkling. "Is that why you pouted for an hour after I beat you?"
"I did not pout," Max protested, but he was grinning.
"You know, it's still surreal to me that a random video I published got us here. If someone had told me a year ago that I'd be spending a week in Monaco with Max Verstappen, I would have laughed in their face."
Max reached out, caressing her cheek softly. "I'm glad you made that video," he said softly. "I'm glad I stumbled across it. I can't imagine not knowing you now."
As they stood together on the boat, the gentle rocking of the waves mirroring the tumultuous emotions within them, Max found his gaze drawn to YN's lips. They were slightly parted, soft and inviting. His heart raced as he lifted his eyes to meet hers, a silent question in his gaze.
YN's eyes, warm and full of affection, met his. A small, knowing smile played at the corners of her mouth, and in that moment, it was all the permission Max needed.
With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer, one hand coming to rest on the small of her back while the other cupped her cheek. Time seemed to slow as he leaned in, their breaths mingling in the space between them. And then, finally, their lips met.
The kiss was tender at first, a soft exploration. But as YN's arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair, it deepened into something more passionate. Max poured all of his pent-up emotions into the kiss - his joy, his longing, his hope for what they could be.
When they finally parted, YN's eyes were sparkling. "You know," she said, a playful tone to her voice, "I've been waiting for you to do that all week."
Max couldn't help but laugh, a mixture of relief and happiness bubbling up inside him. "Really? All week, huh?"
"Mmhmm," she nodded, her smile widening. "I was starting to think I'd have to make the first move myself."
"Well," Max said, his voice low and teasing, "allow me to make up for lost time."
With that, he pulled her in for another kiss. This one was different from the first - more confident, more passionate. His hands roamed her back, pulling her flush against him as her fingers tangled in his hair. The world around them faded away until there was nothing but the two of them, the taste of salt on their lips, and the warmth of the setting sun on their skin.
When they broke apart this time, both were slightly dazed. Max rested his forehead against YN's, unwilling to put any distance between them.
"I really like you," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "More than I've ever liked anyone before. This week with you… it's been incredible. I don't want it to end."
YN's hand came up to cup his cheek, her thumb gently stroking his skin. "I really like you too, Max," she replied, her voice equally soft. "These past few days have been like a dream."
Max pulled back slightly, just enough to meet her eyes. "I know you have to go back, but… I want to make this work. Us, I mean. If that's something you want too."
"I do want that. Very much. It might not be easy with our schedules and the distance, but I think you're worth it."
"We'll figure it out," he said, determination clear in his voice. "I'll come visit you when I can, and you can come to some of my races. We'll make time for video calls, and I'll text you so much you'll get sick of me."
YN laughed, the sound like music to Max's ears. "I don't think I could ever get sick of you," she said, her eyes twinkling. "But I'm holding you to that promise about the races. I expect VIP treatment, Mr. Verstappen."
Max grinned, pulling her close again. "For you? Always," he murmured, before capturing her lips in another kiss.
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ynreadsbooks has added to their stories
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The month following YN's stay in Monaco had been blissful happiness for both YN and Max. Their parting at the airport had been bittersweet, filled with lingering kisses and tight embraces. They had spent a good hour cuddling in Max's car in the airport parking lot, neither wanting to let go.
"I'm going to miss you so much," YN had whispered, her face buried in the crook of Max's neck.
Max had tightened his arms around her, breathing in her scent. "I'll miss you too. But we'll see each other soon, I promise."
When they finally managed to separate, their goodbye kiss had been passionate and filled with promise. As Max watched her disappear into the airport, he already felt a piece of his heart leaving with her.
In the weeks that followed, they took every opportunity to be together. Max would fly to YN's home during his breaks between races, often arriving exhausted but immediately revitalized by her presence.
Their reunions were always intense, filled with desperate kisses and roaming hands as they made up for lost time. But it was the quiet moments that Max treasured most - waking up with YN in his arms, her sleepy smile the first thing he saw; cooking breakfast together, stealing kisses between flipping pancakes; or simply sitting in comfortable silence, each lost in their own tasks but finding comfort in the other's presence.
Now, as they walked hand in hand through the paddock in Austin for the USA Grand Prix, Max felt a sense of pride and joy unlike anything he'd experienced before. Having YN by his side at a race weekend, this time as more than just a friend, felt right in a way he couldn't fully express.
"This is incredible, Max," YN breathed, squeezing his hand. "I don't think I'll ever get used to it."
Max grinned, his heart swelling with affection. He loved seeing the paddock through her eyes, rediscovering the magic that he sometimes took for granted.
"Wait until you see the track," he said, pulling her closer. "And the sound when all the cars start up… there's nothing like it."
They paused for a moment, watching as a group of mechanics wheeled a set of tires past them. Max took the opportunity to really look at his girl. She was radiant in the sunlight, her hair catching the light and her eyes sparkling with excitement. He couldn't resist leaning in to place a soft kiss on her cheek.
YN turned to him, a playful smile on her lips. "What was that for?"
"Do I need a reason to kiss my girl?" Max replied, his voice low and teasing.
She laughed, the sound music to his ears. "I suppose not. But maybe save some for later? We are in public, after all."
"You're killing me," Max groaned dramatically. "How am I supposed to focus on racing when you look like that?"
"Oh, I'm sure you'll manage," YN teased, patting his chest. "After all, I hear you're quite good at this driving thing."
Their playful banter was interrupted by a familiar voice calling out. "Oi, Verstappen! Finally decided to grace us with your presence?"
Max turned to see Daniel approaching, his trademark grin in place. Lando was close behind, an equally mischievous look on his face.
"Hey guys," Max greeted, unconsciously pulling YN closer. "You remember YN, right?"
"Ah yes," Daniel's grin widened. "Nice to see you again, love."
"It's great to see you too, Daniel," she smiled warmly. "And you, Lando."
Lando's eyes darted between Max and YN, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "So, Max, finally managed to seal the deal, huh?"
Max felt his cheeks heat up, but before he could respond, YN jumped in.
"Oh, he did more than that," she said, her tone light but with a hint of something that made Max's pulse quicken. "He's been quite… impressive."
Daniel let out a low whistle while Lando burst into laughter. Max couldn't help but join in, marveling at how effortlessly YN fit into his world.
As they chatted, Max couldn't keep his hands off YN. He found himself constantly touching her - a hand on the small of her back, playing with her fingers, rubbing her arm softly. Each touch was like a spark, reminding him of their passionate reunions over the past month.
He thought back to their last meeting, just a week ago. He had flown to her place straight after he was done with some meetings in Monaco, exhausted but desperate to see her. The moment he stepped through her door, all fatigue had vanished. They had barely made it to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in their wake. The memory of her skin against his, the taste of her lips, the sound of her gasps and moans… it was enough to make him want to whisk her away to his motorhome right now.
Max was pulled from his thoughts by the approach of another familiar face. Charles Leclerc was walking towards them, his trademark charming smile in place.
"Max! Good to see you, man," Charles said, clapping Max on the shoulder before turning his attention to YN. "And who might this lovely lady be?"
Without hesitation, the words tumbled from Max's lips: "This is YN, my girlfriend."
He felt the girl stiffen slightly beside him, and for a moment, panic flared in his chest. Had he overstepped? They hadn't explicitly discussed labels yet. But when he glanced at YN, she was smiling warmly at Charles, her hand still firmly in Max's.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Charles," YN said, shaking his hand.
Charles raised an eyebrow at Max, a hint of surprise in his expression. "The pleasure is all mine. I hope you're enjoying your time in the paddock."
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, they parted ways. Max led YN towards his driver's room. Once inside the relative privacy of the small space, YN turned to him, a playful glint in her eye.
"Girlfriend, huh?" she said, her tone light but with an undercurrent of something Max couldn't quite identify.
Max felt a flutter of nervousness in his stomach. "I… yeah. I mean, if that's okay? I know we haven't really talked about it, but…"
YN stepped closer, her fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "It's more than okay, Max. I was just surprised. We've been in this beautiful bubble, and hearing you say it out loud… it made it feel real in a way it hasn't before."
Max let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. His hands found their way to YN's waist, pulling her closer. "It is real," he said softly. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. Feels like you're everything."
Her eyes softened, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. "You're everything to me too, Max. I love you."
The words hung in the air between them for a moment, both realizing it was the first time either had said it. Then Max surged forward, capturing YN's lips in a kiss that was equal parts tender and passionate.
When they broke apart. Max rested his forehead against YN's, his eyes closed as he savored the moment.
"I love you too," he whispered. "God, YN, I love you so much."
YN's answering smile was radiant and she pulled him in for another kiss.
"So," he said, his voice husky, "ready to watch your boyfriend win a race?"
YN laughed, the sound filling the small space and Max's heart. "Always," she replied. "My misunderstood hero with a heart of gold."
an: i was listening to do re mi by blackbear and i was just thinking about the concept of lando dating a driver who is just straight up insane but that's their dynamic.
wc: 3.4k
Lando was lounging in his gaming chair, half-focused on his Quadrant stream, when he heard the sound of glass shattering in the distance. His gaze flickered, eyebrows furrowing as the noise registered. He glanced toward his mates on-screen, catching a few laughs over the headset.
“What was that?” Max asked.
He narrowed his eyes and leaned back, glancing over his shoulder toward the window. “Hang on a sec.” He muted his mic, got up and moved toward the source of the commotion.
He reached the edge of the window and peered outside—and there she was, standing beside his brand new black Ferrari, one of his precious golf clubs in hand, bringing it down on the windscreen with a satisfying crack. She looked wild-eyed, fearless, like she belonged right there, shattering his world with a smirk on her face.
He didn’t even have to look at the monitor to know his friends were watching his expression. After a pause, he unmuted the mic. “Uh, guys,” he said, exhaling a laugh. “I’ll be back in five.”
“Is that…?” Steven started. The rest fell into stunned silence, disbelief etched across their voices as he nodded, trying to suppress a grin.
“Bro, are you serious? You need to cut her off,” he heard Ethan say, as the sound of glass crunched through his headset again. They’re trying to talk him out of it, telling him how crazy this is, how she’s crazy. But he knows the truth—that they’re just as bad as each other, and he can’t imagine it any other way.
“I got it handled,” he assured them, already making his way downstairs.
Lando stepped into the lobby, where the apartment security guards were trying—without much success—to talk her down. One of them looked up at him, relief flashing across his face. “Sir, do you want us to call the police? We’ll get her to leave.”
But he just shook his head, giving them a grin. “Nah. I’ll deal with her.”
Striding out, he reached her, catching her wrist just as she raised the golf club for another swing. She froze, looking up at him, and he could see the fire in her eyes, the way she was daring him to react.
He just grinned, leaning in close enough that she could feel his breath brush her cheek. Without breaking eye contact, he wrapped an arm around her waist and, in one swift motion, lifted her up and slinged her over his shoulder. She let out a yelp, then an indignant laugh, smacking his back with the flat of her hand.
“Put me down, you cunt!” she demanded, but there was a thrill in her voice he knew too well.
“Are you done having your moment, sweetheart?” Lando murmured, a teasing edge in his tone. He could feel her bristle, and could almost hear the smirk in her voice when she muttered, “Maybe.”
As he walked back inside, her breathless laughter filling the air, he slid his hand up the back of her thigh, just to hear her gasp. She wriggled against his shoulder, trying to hide the way her body was reacting, but he felt it—felt her melt under his touch, even as she clung to her defiance.
Once they were back inside, he let her down slowly, pressing her back against the wall. She glared up at him, but it was a look laced with something darker, something that has his pulse thrumming. He caged her in with his arms, leaning close enough to feel the heat radiating off her.
“You really thought that was gonna get a reaction out of me?” he murmured, voice low, teasing. She smirked, looking up at him through her lashes.
“Oh, it got a reaction,” she whispered, her fingers sliding down to his belt, tugging him closer.
For a moment, there was just the sound of their breaths, mingling in the charged air between them. Then he closed the gap, capturing her lips in a kiss that was hard and demanding, like they were daring each other to go further. She kissed him back fiercely, her hands twisting into his shirt, holding him as close as possible.
When they broke apart, breathless, he pulled back just enough to whisper against her lips, “Next time, try not to break the Ferrari.”
She grinned, unrepentant. “Can’t make any promises.”
She stepped through the bathroom door, expecting things to be exactly where she left them. Instead, her eyes widen as she notices the vanity—completely empty, wiped clean. Her makeup, all of it, is gone.
She dropped her phone on the floor, her jaw tightening as she stormed through the apartment, finally finding Lando lounging on the sofa, casually scrolling through his phone as if nothing’s amiss.
“You didn’t,” she hissed, fists clenched at her sides. Lando looked up slowly, meeting her glare with an infuriatingly calm expression, one eyebrow raised.
“Oh, I did,” he said, tossing his phone aside and stretching his arms across the back of the sofa. “Figured you might like a fresh start. Maybe if you didn’t wear all that makeup, you wouldn’t be getting so much attention.”
Her hands balled into fists, but she didn’t look away. He watched the spark ignite in her eyes, that unmistakable fire that was both thrilling and a little dangerous. She took a slow step toward him, a mocking smile spreading across her face.
“You’re insane,” she said, voice low and deadly, but he only grinned, watching her like he was daring her to do something about it.
“Yeah?” Lando replied, leaning back and looking her over with a smirk. “But you go wild for it.”
She stalked closer, moving to stand over him, her hands braced on either side of his shoulders, forcing him to look up at her. Her voice dropped, almost a whisper. “That was my stuff, and you don’t get to decide what I wear.”
He let out a low laugh, his gaze unwavering as he reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering just a bit too long. “Then stop trying to get my attention by looking at every other guy,” he murmured, his voice soft but dangerous, his hand trailing down the side of her face, fingers brushing along her jawline.
“You think I’m looking at anyone else?” she breathed, leaning in close enough that her lips grazed his, teasing. Her hands slid up his chest, clutching his shirt as she lowered herself to straddle him, trapping him in place. “Trust me, sweetheart, when I want someone’s attention, I get it.”
Lando felt her heartbeat against his chest, fast and unsteady, betraying the anger simmering just under the surface. He grinned, his hands moving to her waist, pulling her closer until their bodies were flush together. His voice dropped down to a whisper, low and possessive. “Then prove it.”
She didn’t hesitate, her mouth crashing into his, all sharp teeth and rough edges, like she was determined to make him regret it. He returned the kiss with equal intensity, his grip tightening as he pulled her in deeper, like he was staking his own claim. They were tangled together, her hands gripping his hair as he pressed her closer, their breaths mingling in a haze of frustration and heat.
When they finally pulled back, gasping for air, Lando smirked, brushing his thumb over her swollen lip. “See? Much better.”
When Lando walked in, the first thing he noticed was a mess of fabric strewn across the floor of the living room. The second? That familiar, smug defiance hanging in the air. His designer shirts—one after another—were lying in a pile, each one sliced clean through.
He let out a low, dark laugh, shaking his head as he picked up a piece of ruined silk. Of course she did this. Of course.
He followed the trail of destruction down the hall, where he found her sprawled on their bed, scrolling through her phone as if nothing was out of the ordinary. In her other hand, she was twirling a pair of scissors, the blade glinting as it caught the light.
He cleared his throat, and she glanced up, that innocent look in her eyes that he knew all too well. It was the look she gave right before she said something that’ll push every one of his buttons.
“Something wrong?” she asked, the corner of her mouth quirked up in a satisfied little smirk.
He stepped closer, holding up the tattered remains of one of his favourite shirts. “Oh, nothing,” he drawled, letting the fabric slip from his fingers. “Just wondering if you’ve got something you want to say.”
She gave a nonchalant shrug, returning her attention to her phone as she flicked through it lazily. “Thought I’d free up some space in your wardrobe. You never seemed to like those shirts anyway.”
He chuckled, watching her with narrowed eyes as he sat beside her on the edge of the bed, close enough that she had to look up at him. “And what if I told you that those were my favourites?” he murmured, reaching out to take the scissors from her hand, his fingers brushing her skin just a moment too long.
She tilted her head, her smirk widening as she let him take the scissors, her eyes flicking to his with that bold, unyielding spark he can never resist. “Then maybe you should take better care of your things,” she said, voice low and sweet, laced with mock innocence.
He let out another laugh, setting the scissors aside, his hand lingering on her thigh as he leaned in, close enough that he could feel her breath hitch. “And what am I supposed to do with you, hmm?” he asked, his fingers brushing slowly up her leg, tracing light circles that sent a shiver through her.
She raised her chin, meeting his gaze with a challenging glint. “Maybe you should take better care of your things,” she said again, her tone daring him to react. Her fingers trail up his chest, her touch feather-light, barely there, but enough to send heat coursing through him.
“Careful,” he whispered, voice dropping as he moved his hand up to cup her face, his thumb tracing along her cheek. “Keep this up, and I might have to show you what happens when you mess around this much, sweetheart.”
She leaned into his touch, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”
She was exhausted, every muscle aching as she finally made it back to their apartment building after a gruelling day of training, it was hard to keep up with Max sometimes. She was only thinking about a hot shower and maybe collapsing into bed, but when she slid her keycard into the lock, nothing happened. She tried again, frowning as she heard the familiar beep and saw the small red light flash, denying her access.
Frustrated, she let out a sigh and looked up, only to see Lando standing by the window on the second floor, leaning casually against the frame with a smirk stretched across his face.
“You trying to come in?” he called down, amusement glinting in his eyes as he watched her wrestle with the lock.
Her jaw tightens. She raises her voice, letting her irritation show. “Open the door, or I swear I’ll—”
He just laughed, leaning out of the window, entirely unbothered. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I had to revoke your access. Apartment is under my name, after all.” He paused, tilting his head as he looked her over, clearly savouring her frustration. “It’s just... you’ve been taking a few too many liberties lately.”
She scoffed, storming toward the front desk, where the concierge looked up, shifting uncomfortably as she approached.
“Can you open the door?” she demanded, her voice sharp with exhaustion and irritation.
The concierge frowned apologetically. “I’m sorry, miss, but Mr. Norris" he hesitated, glancing up toward the smirking man in the window— “he’s requested that your access be restricted. I can’t let you in without his permission.”
Her fists clench at her sides, and she looks back up at him, glaring. He was still leaning against the window, arms folded, watching her with that smug, insufferable grin. She was just about ready to give him a piece of her mind when he called down, his voice lazy and laced with amusement.
“You know,” Lando said, “there’s a way you could get in. Just gotta say the magic word.”
She narrowed her eyes, arms crossing as she stared up at him. “You’re out of your mind.”
“Oh, come on.” He shrugged, feigning innocence. “A little begging never hurt anyone.” He grinned, tilting his head mockingly. “Or are you too proud? Red Bull’s Princess can’t say please?”
She bit back a retort, anger simmering under her skin. But the day had worn her down, and the idea of spending the night locked out was even worse than giving him what he wanted. She let out a sigh, glaring at him with a look that could kill.
“Please,” she said, voice strained, her jaw clenched tightly.
He cupped a hand to his ear, grinning wider. “Didn’t quite hear that.”
She let out a frustrated growl, swallowing her pride as she raised her voice, forcing herself to repeat it. “I said, please,” she grit out, hating every second.
But Lando only shook his head, laughing softly to himself. “Not quite enough, darling. You’re going to have to try a little harder than that.”
Her eyes narrowed, fury blazing in her gaze as she glanced around, making sure no one else beside the concierge was listening before she took a deep breath. She fixed him with a look, voice dropping lower, softer. “Please… let me in.”
For a moment, he just watched her, savouring every word, every hint of frustration in her eyes. And then, finally, he relented, nodding to the concierge with a satisfied smirk.
The door unlocks, and she strode in, tossing one last glare up toward him as she headed up to their apartment, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten in the wake of her frustration.
When she reached the door, he was waiting there, arms crossed as he leaned against the frame, still looking far too amused for her liking. She stormed past him, but he caught her wrist, stopping her just before she could slip away.
“Glad to see you can be reasonable,” he murmured, his voice low, laced with amusement as he pulled her closer.
She rolled her eyes, tugging her hand free, but he didn't let her go, his grip firm, challenging her as he leaned in close, his breath warm against her skin. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Don’t push it,” she muttered, but there was a hint of a smirk on her lips, her irritation melting into something warmer as he slid an arm around her waist, pulling her against him.
“Oh, I plan to,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple, savouring the way her resistance softens, just a little, under his touch.
Lando was out at the bar with Max, Charles and Oscar, a half-empty glass in his hand, when his phone buzzed on the table. Glancing down, he noticed it was his bank calling. He frowned, picking it up with a raised eyebrow.
“Hello?”
“Hi, sir, this is a courtesy call from Credit Mutuel. We just wanted to confirm a recent transaction—3,600 Euros from Versace? We wanted to make sure it was authorised.”
He let out a quiet chuckle, immediately picturing her wandering through the store, swiping his card without a second thought. Of course, she would do that.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” he said, trying to hide his amusement. “Go ahead and approve it.”
He ended the call, slipping his phone back into his pocket, just as his friends gave him questioning looks. Charles leaned in, a grin already spreading across his face. “3.6K at Versace? Who’s racking up that kind of charge?”
He shrugged, smirking as he picked up his drink. “My girl. Guess she decided to go shopping.”
They exchanged looks, half-amused, half-incredulous. Max whistled low, shaking his head. “You’ve gotta be kidding. She’s really that bold?”
“Bold?” Oscar chimed in with a laugh. “She’s insane. You really need to put a stop to that.”
He just raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “What, and miss out on all the fun?”
“Man, she’s gonna drain you dry,” Oscar said, shaking his head. “You need to cut her off.”
He took another sip of his drink, the thought not even crossing his mind. “Nah. She’s my type of crazy.”
They all looked at him like he’d lost his mind, but he didn't care. She kept him on his toes, always a little unpredictable, a little wild—and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“You’re out of your mind, man,” Max said, chuckling. “No one’s worth that kind of chaos.”
“She’s your teammate, put respect on her name.” Lando quipped, his voice light but a slight bit of truth to it.
“Teammate or not. Kelly spent 3k in Versace? I'm asking her dad to pay me back.”
He just laughed, his gaze drifting toward the door as if he half expected her to show up, Versace bags in hand and that signature defiant look on her face. “Eh this is what keeps it interesting.”
Hope you bought something nice for me to rip off tonight x
The Singapore night lights gleam across the track as the roar of the crowd echoed through the air. Lando managed to bring the car to first place. It was a win that put him further ahead in the World Drivers' Championship—closer to clinching the title that both she and him were battling for. She’d just come in third, and he knew she’d be furious about the gap widening, about him taking both the sprint and the race.
He was basking in his victory, the top step of the podium all his, the adrenaline still coursing through him, as he turned to celebrate with the other two drivers on the podium. But he couldn't ignore the tension in the air. She was standing just a few feet away, third place still sitting uncomfortably on her shoulders, the gap between them widening with each race.
Her jaw tightened as she grabbed a bottle of champagne, shaking it quickly in her hand, she slammed it on the top step of his podium, his signature celebration. And she watched.
She watched as it hit his trophy, knocking it from the podium. The silver gleamed for a split second before it crashed to the ground, the base shattering in a shower of sparkling fragments.
She stood there, blinking for a moment, watching as the trophy’s broken pieces settled at their feet, her champagne bottle still in hand, the remnants of the cork still floating in the air like confetti. Slowly, she turned her eyes to him, that familiar, defiant glint sparking in her gaze.
“Whoops?” she said, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as if she couldn’t care less about the broken trophy—or the effect it’s had on him.
He stood there for a moment, shock flashing across his face. But it was quickly replaced with a grin. He chuckled, shaking his head, his eyes never leaving hers.
Without thinking twice, he stepped off his podium, the world blurring around him as he strides over to her. Her eyes widened in surprise as he reached out, his hand slipping under her jaw, tilting her face up to his. For a heartbeat, the noise of the crowd faded, the lights dimmed, and it was just the two of them locked in a silent battle of wills.
Then, before she could react, he pulled her in, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that was both possessive and challenging, a reminder of the victory that was still fresh on his lips. She was stiff at first, her fists clenching by her sides, every bit of her resistance radiating through her. But then, just as he was about to pull away, her grip relaxed. She let out a shaky breath against his lips, and suddenly she was kissing him back, just as fierce, just as unapologetic.
The world erupted around them in a chaotic mix of cheers and gasps, but they were lost in the heat between them. Charles, grinning like he was witnessing the best drama of the year, stepped forward with his bottle and sprayed them both, champagne splashing across their faces, soaking their race suits.
They broke apart, gasping for air, champagne dripping down their faces, but neither of them stepped back. He was grinning, that familiar arrogant smirk, knowing he had pushed her, made her break her carefully guarded composure right in front of everyone.
“You’re still behind, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice low enough that only she could hear. “Better step it up.”
She narrowed her eyes, her lips twisting into a smirk of her own. “Keep pushing your luck,” she replied, voice dripping with challenge. “I’ll catch you sooner than you think.”
He let out a quiet laugh, raising his champagne bottle in a mock toast. “Looking forward to it.”
She was standing in front of the press, still in her race suit, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as the interviewer approached her, mic in hand. The buzz in the room was all too familiar—she’d been the talk of the circuit all season, and tonight, after the “accidental” destruction of his trophy, they were all eager to get her take on it.
“So,” the interviewer started, grinning as he raised an eyebrow, “quite the, uh, performance on the podium. How are you feeling about, well… breaking Lando’s trophy?”
She shrugged, her expression as cool and collected as ever. “Not my trophy, not my problem,” she replied, smirking as a few people in the crowd let out quiet chuckles.
The interviewer laughed, but he was clearly fishing for more. “Rumour has it that he wasn’t exactly thrilled about it. Are you worried there might be… consequences?”
Her smirk widens, and there was a dangerous glint in her eyes as she leaned just a bit closer to the mic. “Oh, it’s fine. I’ll just get punished at home,” she said, her voice dropping to a playful whisper as she glanced directly at the camera. “If you get what I mean.”
The reaction was immediate—the interviewer’s eyes widened, the crowd let out a collective gasp, and the director frantically signalled for the camera to cut the feed. But before they manage to turn it off, her laugh echoed through the speakers, rich and unapologetic, leaving the whole room buzzing with her brazen, unfiltered confidence.
As the screen went black, she tossed the mic back to the interviewer with a wink, giving the camera one last look before she strutted off, knowing she’d left them with more questions than answers—and loving every second of it.
the end.
The Honda Odyssey
Logan Howlett / The Wolverine x Reader Summary: The car fight reimagined and it only needed to be like 10% more erotic than the original.
6k words - I got carried away. I just love Wolvie so much. I'm so happy Logan is getting the love he deserves. Long live the Wolverine renaissance. T-T
Warning: smut, p in v, ass play, foul language.
If you had to pinpoint a moment when your life became the shit show it had steadily developed into, you’d say it was the moment you auditioned for X-Force.
In your tenure as besties with Wade Wilson, it's fair to say things hadn’t gone smoothly. The man was a conduit to all things fucked up, but you adored his loose morals and quick mouth. The idiot in red had weaselled his way into your heart and became something of a brother to you and more recently a roommate.
Now, if you’d have told your younger self you’d be in your late twenty’s sharing an apartment with a burn victim who regularly staples a toupee to his fucking head and a coke-head, blind, old African American woman, you’d have laughed in their fucking face.
So, you’d like to think that as these things go you are pretty damn well adjusted but traversing the multiverse was a bit of a stretch, even for you.
One moment you’re at Wade’s surprise party, the next your ass has been zapped to the TVA and you’ve been given a sacred mission; to accompany Marvel Jesus (Wade) and protect the sacred timeline.
Naturally you’re fucking mind blown, you’re a low-level mutant, fuck, you couldn’t even join the X-Men. Your particular set of skills were a dime a dozen and your flagrant disregard of rules had made you a ‘poor candidate’.
No, the mutant powers you had been graced with weren’t extraordinary by any means. You were basically an off-brand Captain America, just without the gorgeous cheekbones, patriotism and righteous need to do good.
In layman terms, you are strong as shit and have an accelerated healing factor. Not quite the same level as Wade’s mind you. You have, give or take, an inconvenient five-minute turnaround on the more fatally debilitating wounds.
To say you were unqualified was an understatement and to say you were reluctant was a simple fact. A fact you repeated, loudly to anyone that would listen as you were bathed in rich black leather.
“I think maybe you meant to grab negasonic teenage whatchacallit… she’s great, super powerful!” You continue. “Did you mean to get Domino or Colossus or maybe one of the X-Men? “
“No Miss Y/L/N. We have not got the wrong person for the job.” The man you later find out is called Paradox, calls out as you re-enter the operation headquarters. “Mr Wilson requested your presence; he wanted your assistance on his mission.”
“Y/N/N… ten out of ten, baby girl, I one hundred percent would bang. I’m talking raw dog, Barry White on a rug, let’s go all fuckin’ night.” Wade hollers in his own brand-new suit and even you must admit, you look fucking amazing. “Sweet angel, we’ve just gotta’ come up with a superhero name for you!”
You are enrobed in rich thick black and teal leather, your first ever hero suit and it’s a fucking good one. It doesn’t cling, but instead pulls you in securing your flesh and extenuating curves, ones you hadn’t entirely realised you had. The bottom half your face is concealed with a mask, carefully crafted to follow the contours of your nose and cheekbones.
You’d barely recognised the mysterious figure in the mirror.
“Right?! Tailor was pretty handsy though!”
“Oh yeah, ha! - that man is indeed a predator.” Wade says with a chuckle and a fond sigh.
It shames to you to say but that’s when you stopped fighting this whole thing. You looked the part of a hero; you thought that maybe the TVA knew what they were doing. That they had seen something in you and knew that you had a good heart under all the darkness that lingered on the surface.
Wrong.
You were just a demand Wade had made. He wanted his number one disciple at his side whilst he carried out his sacred mission. You were part of an attempt at appeasing him whilst they destroyed your timeline.
Little more than a pawn to be used whilst they manipulated him into a false sense of security.
Thus, you were thrown into a series of events far beyond your control when Wade being Wade decided you were hunting down a Wolverine to stabilise the timeline, only to be once again fucking zapped into some place they called the void by that little English shitbird named Paradox. It’s entirely accurate to say that you were a little less sturdy than your compadres.
Unfortunately for you, the fall from such a height into the void was fatal. When you finally awake in the desolate wasteland to the sounds of blades clashing it is disorientating to say the least.
Forcing yourself to your feet you lower your mask and gasp in the sweet strangely stale oxygen as you stretch out your newly healed spine with a groan. It was impossible to tell how long you were out as you take in the scene before you; Wade and the Wolverine are engaged in a heated battle. From the looks of it, Logan is winning this fight despite being the human equivalent of a knife block with Wade’s katanas protruding from his chest.
For a moment you pause, perhaps its head trauma that hasn’t healed (He’s fucking Deadpool, he can look after himself for two minutes) and appreciate his form, the Wolverine the two of you had kidnapped was gorgeous. Tch, as if there was any other kind.
Sure, you were biased you’d always been somewhat of a fangirl, but the Wolverine was objectively breath-taking.
You’d indulged in comics whilst growing up but when you found out he was real and looked the way he did, hell, Wolverine was your sexual awakening. He was the first man to make you feel that tingle in your lower stomach. Yes, you may have been thirteen years old, a ball of puppy fat and social anxiety but you’d been waiting for him ever since.
You’re snapped out of your reverie when Wade loses baby knife in Logan’s shoulder blade, finally you spring into action. In good time as well as you’re not sure if even Deadpool can survive decapitation.
In the singularly most stupid act of your life you throw yourself in front of your friend’s body. “Wait, Wait! Please!”
Wade has paused behind you, you can feel him weighing up the situation, pausing for a moment to see what you’re going to pull out of the bag.
“The TVA they can fix it, whatever you did, whatever made you the worst Logan, they can fix it! – They have the power to end universes, but they also have the power to fix yours! Help us get back there and we can fix both of our worlds! I promise, they can fix it.” You plead, it’s not quite a lie exactly, more of an Educated Wish than anything.
Okay it is a lie, but you’re sure that the TVA can most likely, probably, maybe fix his world.
Logan’s eyes lock with yours in that moment you can see that he wants to kill you both and be done with it, but that hope won’t let him. You feel a smidgen of guilt for the deceit, but frankly you’ve done worse for less. Your world was on the line it wasn’t the time to pull your punches.
Fast forward four exhausting hours, two periods of unconsciousness and one flaying to find yourself sat opposite Wade gagging down cold spoonful’s of Spam in some dusty ass diner.
You were no better than a man as you watched the Wolverine.
Those arms, those thighs, the way he had beheaded Sabretooth without even breaking a fucking sweat. You wanted him to wrap those instruments of death he called hands around your throat and fuck you dirty until the sun came up.
It had been a long exhausting day and you had been soaking wet for most of it.
Shit, could he smell that? Does that count as sexual harassment? You’d have to ask Wade.
Logan, however, was utterly dismissive of your advances in the face of what was undoubtedly utterly horrific past trauma. Something you were trying to be understanding about, but self-pity in a man, it just turned you on. I said you had some surface layers of darkness.
Unable to help yourself you gaze at him as he opens a bottle of rubbing alcohol. You are utterly entranced, watching the thick chords in his throat bob as he takes a swig.
That tanned skin where his jaw ends and neck begins, slick with sweat and dirt. You’d love to sink your canines into the strip below his ear. He must feel your stare on him as he looks up and catches your eyes dark with lust already surveying his person.
It should embarrass you, that every time he peers your way, he catches you gaping at him like a lovesick puppy, but there’s something about Logan you can’t quite put your finger on. The man heats your blood like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, maybe it’s that torch you’ve carried for him since girlhood, maybe it’s the thick thighs you’d kill to ride – who can say for sure?
In what you assume is against his better judgement, he comes to perch on the booth beside you. His broad shoulders cast an imposing figure as he gets close enough that if you were to move your hand a couple of inches to the right, you’d finally be able to touch that yellow fabric that plagued your tween dreams.
You’re burning up at the thought of him, unable to stop yourself you part your legs slightly to ease some of the pressure. Logans nose twitches, his head swivels your way and his eyes catch your own.
Welp - at least you have your answer about him smelling your arousal.
Deciding that you were most likely verging on sexual harassment charges you decided to focus back in on the task at hand, gagging once again at another spoonful of spam.
“Be a good girl and swallow, Y/N/N, you know the rules!” Wade jokes, your chortle was your only response. What could you say? He always hit your funny bone despite the ocean that was raging in your panties.
Logan stares at Wade for a long moment before turning to your way and addressing you for maybe only the fourth time today?
“What are you doing with this fucking clown? You his sidekick? Following him round to laugh at his stupid fucking jokes whilst he gets kids killed?”
“Why I have never.” Wade is faux outraged at his words, clutching his imaginary pearls as the Wolverine throws around accusations that aren’t entirely untrue.
The Wolverine’s expression remains stern as his eyes track your face. They seem to be evaluating your character and from the flare in his nose and crease in his brow you can guess he finds you lacking. You’re embarrassed to admit how much that deflates you, so you do what you do best; you deflect.
“I could follow you around and laugh at your jokes instead, if you like?” When you speak your voice has a sultry edge to it and there’s no mistaking your intentions.
Logan seems to think on your proposition for a second or two, before he huffs grabs his rubbing alcohol and unopened can of Spam and heads over to sit at the bar.
“Holy hot ham and cheese on rye, Y/N, you fucking slut.” Wade berates you though his voice is as light as it’s always been as he boots your shin under the table. “Trying to your holes filled by Wolvie during a world saving mission, Marvel H Christ, stay on fucking task!”
You swear you hear Logan mutter a Jesus Christ from the bar.
Though as Wade continues irritating the hero hunched against bar, you can’t help the realisation that he didn’t say no.
“You’re uh… well regarded in our world.” Wade complements, being real doesn’t come easy to him. You appreciate the effort.
“Well, I’m not shit in mine.”
“I tried to join the X-Men because of you.” You speak up finally joining their conversation. Wolverine’s back goes rigid, but he doesn’t respond. You’re not sure if he’s waiting for you to continue or hoping you’ll stop. “You made a difference to this world, made me think I could do the same. I just never quite make the cut.”
Logan doesn’t seem to have a response.
It seems your words have an effect as you catch him watching you more often. When Wade makes his jokes, he looks to you for validation of his withering looks.
You’re probably more distracted by this revelation than you should be when the three of you come across a real nasty variant of Colossus seeking out Wade for… you want to say… revenge?
The not-so-gentle-anymore-giant flips the Honda and tosses both Wade and Logan through the treeline as they advance on him as if they were little more than toys his mother had asked him to pick up.
One by one your bullets ricochet from his metal skin as he comes towards you. You aren’t built for this fight; you are completely and utterly outmatched.
All you’re doing at this point is buying yourself some time for your backup to pull themselves from the rubble, however during a particularly spirited cartwheel the metal oaf finally gets his hands on you. Colossus’ metal palm is cold on your throat, and you could swear you hear your neck snapping before you feel it.
With a gasp you return to life to find a slightly dishevelled Logan standing above you. By the grace of god, his sleeves have been worn away in the fight, his arms, oh sweet lord, his arms are on full display.
“Thought you were a goner.” He offers you a hand when you simply stare mutely his way. Locking your fingers around his wrist he pulls you to your feet. You don’t release your hold on him and neither does he.
“Don’t throw the party just yet, eh?” You joke weakly, for a second you could swear there’s a slight raise of the corner of his mouth, imperceptible, if you didn’t know what you were looking for. In the past few hours you had become an expert on Wolverine’s face.
Your mouth is dry as you take in his thick sweat laden biceps.
“Where’s Wade?” You query whilst rolling your aching neck as you haven’t heard his voice in a record thirty seconds, Logan suddenly remembers himself and drops your hand.
“’fraid Metal man took your clown, was pissed with him and can’t say I blame the guy.”
“Shit.” You sigh rubbing your temples as you kneel to pick up the dismembered arm of your best friend. “Well – fuck. That’ll take him a few hours at least to grow back – He’ll be so sad about his suit.”
You peel the fabric from the limb and tuck it under the breast plate of your own suit. Wade will want his glove back when it grows back.
“He say where he was taking him?”
“Oh yeah, that along with his plan for world domination...” Logan huffs as if your mere presence annoys him.
“Thought you didn’t like sarcasm.”
“I like sarcasm just fine, Bub. It’s you I don’t like.” You can’t help but smile his way at the comment made at your expense, his brows crease. “You’re a strange one.”
“Can you do your sniffy thing?” Its impressive, you thought he’d reached the limit with his scathing looks towards Wade, yet he somehow manages to pull a deeper frown out the vault especially for you.
“Sniffy thing?” His words are spoken with such derision, it turns you on a little. You realise that perhaps you are in fact a deeply troubled individual.
“Oh, sorry.” You pretend to clear a frog in your throat. “Please, oh, please, beautiful, handsome Wolverine, please can you locate my bestest pal with your heightened sense of smell?” His face doesn’t break despite your hands clasped in front of your chin.
“You’re just as fucking annoying as that moron.” He huffs “Get in the fucking car, we’ll follow his trail.”
“You can smell him from the car?”
“The blood, Jesus Fucking Christ, there’s a trail of blood.”
“Ah.” Is all you reply as you find your seat in the passenger side and start your own one on one team up with Wolverine. Its not exactly the way you imagined it, but beggars certainly can’t be choosers.
After a few moments of sullen silence, you decide that there’s no time like the present to form a long-lasting bond.
“What’s your world like?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“Okay... What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they can save your world? I bet its something boring as fuck, like team-“
“What did you just say?”
“I bet you’re gonna do something boring like-“
“No before that.”
“What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they save your world?” You question, his sudden interest in your words takes you by surprise as he has been vacant from your conversation.
The breaks suddenly shriek as the car comes to a stop.
“What do you mean if?”
“I…”
“You said they could fix my world. Undo it all, is what you fucking said.”
“I mean I think they can!”
“You fucking liar.” The edge to The Wolverine’s voice is terrifying. The realisation trickles down your spine, Logan has been nice to you all this time, you’re finally meeting The Wolverine.
“I didn’t lie!” For some reason you’re ashamed of your deceit, you’ve murdered countless people and still, you’ve felt less remorse. Logan’s eyes pin you in your seat as disgust clouds his face. It hurts more than you can fathom. “Not exactly, I think they can fix your world! – I needed your help and if you killed Wade there was no hope for my universe!”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about your universe!” He spits your way; his hands are gripping the wheel in what seems like an effort to keep his cool.
“I know, but I do!” You cry back at him. “You know how to save the world, you’re the fucking Wolverine! I know how to kill people, but this hero shit, this isn’t me!”
“Ha! No shit.” There is pure hate in the man’s eyes as he stares back at you.
“Please, you’re Logan. Whether you’re the worst one or not - You’re still better than me.”
“Get out of the fucking car.” The words come from between clenched teeth and are filled with warning.
“No – fuck you.” Your rage breaks the banks to meet Logan’s. Perhaps it’s the guilt, maybe it’s the fear for Wade but something within you snaps at his constant bad temper. “It was an educated guess and a fucking reasonable one at that, get the fuck over yourself you big bird wannabe geriatric fucker! “
He slams his palms on the steering wheel, his nose flares and his teeth clamp together. “Fuck me? Fuck you – you sad pathetic excuse for a side-kick. No wonder the X-Men wouldn’t take you, and they’ll take fuckin’ anyone. You are a ridiculous, immature, moron who spends her days following around a fucking clown to avoid facing the reality that you are no one. I have never met a sadder, more attention starved asshole in my entire life. You were right about one thing, you’re no fucking hero.”
Its shameful the way your stomach drops, and your eyes involuntarily begin to tear. To hear your hero say the words you’ve thought about yourself whilst laying awake at night. It’s a knife to the gut.
“Nothing to fucking say, huh, Angel?” The use of Wade’s nickname for you is like sandpaper on your skin, it rubs you the wrong fucking way.
“I am going to hurt you now.” Your voice is barely a broken whisper.
“You’re going to hurt – “His faux chortle is cut short by a swift punch to his face. You’re worried you may have been overzealous with your swing when his nose begins bleeding. The Wolverine is stunned for only a moment before he grabs the back of your neck and proceeds with smashing your face into the dashboard and those concerns are quickly put to bed.
The old fucker is strong, but you don’t think he’ll kill you, yet another educated wish.
“Not so tough now…” He shouts as the radio channels change with your skull. Pulling a knife from your leg strap you embed it in his thigh and pull the lever to recline your seat whilst he’s distracted, luckily, you’re not there when he swings for retribution.
Though one of his fucking steak knives catches your upper arm slicing through the leather. Warm blood trickles down your arm, staining the beige interior of the poor Honda.
Your legs are your strongest asset, so when he attempts to restrain you with the seatbelt, you are presented with your window of opportunity. You wrap them around his neck as you pivot your hips slamming the Wolverine headfirst into the metal of the door. Once, twice, three times - on the fourth he lands a fist to your gut, luckily, he has retracted his claws.
If he was willing to kill you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.
You’re winded struggling to catch your breath from the gut punch, but you manage pull the knife from his thigh that is nestled between your legs and thrust it into his neck, you aim for the spot you’d fantasied about kissing before he’d torn your character apart piece by piece, now you just want to bathe in his fucking blood.
It was the pain that instantaneously made his claws extend. He’s quick to move them, though he slices through the sides of your suit as he buries them in the chair behind you. Your ribs are a bloodied mess though you don’t care, in a few hours they’ll be good as new.
Logan has seized the opportunity and has your arms pinned to your sides, his blood has cooled a little more than yours, he doesn’t seem to want to murder you over an argument.
Perhaps he’s more well-adjusted than yourself, that thought alone should concern you, except it just enrages you further.
“You stupid fuckin-“The Wolverine starts admonishing you, before you swing your head forward and headbutt him.
Yes.
You really do that.
You headbutt the man with the adamantium fucking skeleton– at full strength. Its sheer dumb luck you don’t crack your own skull in the process– maybe Logan was right, you are fucking dumb.
“Fucking fuck!” You cry grabbing your forehead and writhing. Noone wins with a headbutt, except Logan apparently.
“Fucking stop that.” Your writhing has pushed your core against his crotch, and he is already packing quite the heat at what feels like half-mast. He grabs your hips to stop your movement, but it only seems to push you closer. “Stop fucking moving.”
The constant arousal you’ve felt since meeting him returns in double time, Logan’s nostrils flare and his eyes darken. It’s debased and you’re ashamed that you want him, you haven’t stopped wanting him, despite the awful fucking words that left his mouth minutes ago.
“Like … a little pain Wolvie?”
Its relief you feel, you think, when instead of answering or punching you in the face, he closes the gap.
The Wolverine’s claws retract, and he grabs at your chin. Logan’s mouth utterly devours your own, your front tooth clashes with his own as you push yourself upwards, you pull your knife out of his neck, catching his grunt of pain on your tongue as you begin licking your way down his thick throat.
The vein you’d spotted hours ago is throbbing freshly healed, you sink your canines into the flesh and its as good as you’d fucking imagine. His groan is utterly beast-like as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.
The Wolverine’s throat tastes like salt and iron. Thick, tangy and warm on your tongue as you soothe the bite. It drives Logan wild, thrusting his hardened member against your warmth. One of his gloved hands rises to lock on the back of your neck to pull you into yet another earth-shattering kiss. His sharp hot tongue slides against your own, exploring the expanses of your mouth like its his to claim.
You bite at him again then, your teeth catching his bottom lip sharply. Logan groans into your mouth before you use every ounce of your enhanced strength to throw him backwards against the dashboard.
He is taken utterly by surprise as his head slams into the windscreen cracking the glass with a grunt. When he looks your way Logan’s eyes are blackened with desire, he is utterly wild.
Slowly as if afraid to make any sudden moves, you unzip your combat boots, your eyes never leaving his. One boot and then the next.
You thank the TVA’s tailor for making your suit a two piece as you shuffle backwards into the backseat, pushing the thick leather down your legs all whilst maintaining eye contact with the beast leaning against the dashboard.
“You sure you want this Darlin’?”
“Darlin’?” You question mockingly, your voice lowering to imitate his own, as you wantonly spread your legs, your bare leg resting next to the headrest. Only a pair of black cotton panties separate him from your most intimate parts and his eyes are locked on your clothed core. “a second ago it was ‘Pathetic Moron’ to you.”
Your head tilts in question as his eyes lock back on your own, you think perhaps for a moment something akin to regret passes over his face, but you’ve never been entirely comfortable with feelings, so you drop your hand into the waistband of your panties, you’ve barely circled your opening with your pointer finger before he’s on you.
“That’s my job, you fucking Moron.” He plunges two bare thick fingers into your heat. Gasping you throw your head back against the headrest, it’s a tight fit and its been a while but the slight burn eases some of the aching in your core. “You’re fuckin’ soaking wet, you like it huh, bub? Making me bleed?”
Your grab his jaw, your nails digging into his flesh. “I’d like to bathe in-” He scissors his fingers finding that spot inside you and you let out an embarrassing noise, somewhere between a gasp and a moan. “-Your fucking blood… you mean motherfucker.”
You’re an absolute goner when he starts rubbing your clit, after a day of foreplay your body seizes, and you grab at the nape of his neck trying to find something to anchor you down. But as fast as the build was you come tumbling down just as quickly, when he cruelly withdraws his hands.
“No! - Wha- what the fuck?!” You’re almost crying as your torn from the precipice.
Logan flips you over onto your stomach before you can complain any further, your face down on the filthy upholstery as he pulls your panties from your hips. You can’t see him from this angle, though you can feel his warm hands tracing the globes of your ass.
You force your knees further apart, pushing your bare soaking pussy against the tight bulge of his yellow suit. If you had enough of your facilities about you, you’d be embarrassed that you’re currently rubbing your cunt against The Wolverine like a bitch in heat after he’d chewed you out only minutes ago.
Logan’s hand dip between your thighs, his fingers swirl along your hole, dragging your wetness along to your aching clit.
“You think I’d make it that easy?” He asks as he continues the journey back and forth. On the second pass he dips his finger inside of you for a fraction of a second before resuming its path. “What do you want, darlin’?”
You weren’t going to beg, in fact you bit your tongue to stop the traitorous words from forming, this man had already made you abandon most of your self-respect, he wasn’t having this.
“Logan…” At your breathy words the man leans forward, pressing his fabric covered cock into your ass as he folds his body over yours. One hand comes down next to your shoulder, the other explore your tits as he rocks himself into your throbbing core. It’s the perfect storm as he nuzzles into your exposed throat but somehow you manage your words. “Fuck me or don’t, I’m not begging, bub.”
He exhales through his nose in what you guess is equal parts amusement and annoyance, but you’re far beyond caring. He places a bite on the spot where your throat meets your shoulder as his body pulls back. Momentarily his hands leave your hips to deal with his own pants. You hear the clank of his belt hitting the car floor moments before you feel the head of his cock, running along your folds.
The head of his cock is thick, and it feels hot to the touch as he runs it along your slick. All of a sudden Logan pushes forward and sheathes himself inside of you with a single thrust.
You try your best to hold in your incoherent moans but to little avail as he pulls back before slamming full force back into you. If you were a human woman, your pelvis would’ve shattered from the force of his hips against your ass, instead you gather your strength and push back, allowing him deeper. The both of you moan in unison at the depth he reaches.
You grab onto the foam of the seat, ripping through the fabric with your bare hands desperate for an anchor as Logan unforgivingly pounds into you from behind, once again he folds his body over yours, wrapping a palm around your clawed fingers.
“.” He grunts something incoherent into your ear as he picks up the pace, slamming into you repeatedly, slowly picking up his pace. Your core is positively aching as you throb around him, pulling him deeper within you. If you were expecting any further explanation, you’re sorely disappointed.
The wolverine pulls back, gripping at your hips keeping you still as he resumes his powerful strokes. Logan’s hand dips to your clit, rubbing quick circles sending you barrelling back towards your orgasm. As you begin to clench around him, he pulls your body upwards, his head brushing against the top of the car as he holds you against him his fingers never leaving your clit.
“Come on my cock, Angel.” Unable to stop yourself you clench around him, hearing him talk like that does something primal to you.
You fucking loved Logan’s mouth, you bet he ate pussy like a champion if he played the clit this fucking well.
You stopped fighting it and threw yourself from the cliff, shattering in his thick muscle veined arms as he held you up against him, his cock still viciously plundering your depths.
“You’re so fucking tight.” He whispers against your neck whispers peppering it with bites.
Logan gives you a few moments to come down from your high before he resumes his punishing pace, you think perhaps you’ve reached your limit of pleasure, that the threshold can’t possibly be topped until he whispers into your ear in that gruff voice.
“What was it Wilson said? Filling all your holes?” The Wolverine asks, his eyes meet yours over your shoulder meaningfully, asking permission as he offers you his thumb. You merely moan your approval and wantonly draw his finger into your mouth, soaking the pad in saliva.
Logan yanks your head into a vicious kiss. It’s a messy one, filled to the brim with need. The hand not currently locked on your neck holding your face to his, travels down your back, through the valley of your bodies. The pad of his pinky runs appreciatively over the globe of your ass, before his hand dips into the crease.
Logan’s thumb runs teasingly against the tight ring of muscle, it’s a foreign experience which makes you startle slightly.
“Anyone ever fucked you here?” He asks as he bites down your neck, delicately pushing you forward until your head rests on the backseat. You shake your head as your eyes close, his cock is buried balls deep within you as he plays with your asshole.
When his thumb finally breaches your tight hole just past the nail, he begins his thrusts once more. His cock fills your pussy from behind and suddenly you feel so fucking full, Its far too much for you.
“Fuck… Logan.” You gasp almost on the verge of tears as pounds you into the back seat. It seems the ass play has gotten to him more than expected, as his pace has increases.
“Where?” He asks breathless from the exertion as he pulls his thumbs from your ass and takes a handful of the meat on your hips.
“Inside…. Please … Logan.” You practically beg though you’ll never admit it, his rhythm becomes stunted as his hips slam into the back of your thighs.
“Give me something tight to come in, Darlin’.” Moaning at his words you’re eager to obey as you reach your hand between your own legs and rub mercilessly at your clit. The unforgiving pounding, the grunting and the fingers currently bruising your hips and the burning of your now vacant ass send you sailing over the edge.
You clamp down on him like a vice, groaning unable to hold back your whimpers anymore as he finally bites your neck and pumps his seed deep inside you as far as it can go. Logan grunts like a beast as he pulses deep inside of you.
Logan collapses beside you. Dents in the interior of the van you don’t even remember making have appeared from where a stray elbow or knee has hit the metal in the throes of passion.
The Wolverine tucks his cock back in his suit. Ever the gentleman, he uses your black panties to wipe away the cum dripping from your thighs, you haven’t got the heart to tell him that when you’re commando redressed in your suit that you can still feel him dripping from you, your pussy uncomfortably slick against the leather.
After dressing, the two of you sit in contemplative silence. Neither one of you has the emotional complexity to discuss what happened and neither one of you will accept fault for your argument that led to it, so, silence reigns.
The tension is sliced in two as Logan leans forward and pushes an errant lock of hair behind your ear in an act so goddamn endearing, you melt. You still wouldn’t apologise for lying, because you didn’t lie but you can meet him a quarter of the way.
“I’m sorry for calling you geriatric.” You whisper catching his eyes, a small spark of humour leaps into them, you’ve seen more emotions from your hero in the past half an hour than you knew he was capable of.
“I shouldn’t have-“ Logan’s heartfelt apology is cut off by the lead of this goddamn story.
“Well, well, well. Would you look at this, My best friends, Ha! I get fucking kidnapped, an arm ripped off and you’re nowhere to be found? I thought don’t worry Wade, they won’t leave you, Y/N/N will come around that corner any second."
Wade has appeared through the passenger side window; he looks a little worse for wear and has a child’s arm growing from his stump, its kind of gross to look at.
"What if Colossus had had his way with me? What then Y/N? I expect this from Wolvie, but not from you! No, no heroic rescue for old Deadpool. I have to save myself because you fuckers are too busy playing hide the adamantium bone! Thanks for nothing guys. Now the car has old man sex stank to it, as if this hunk of shit Honda could get any worse!”
James, WHEN I CATCH YOU JAMES YOU SON OF YOUR MOTHER EIWOIEJDHSJDHSJD Let's talk about how the only people who care about Logan in this world are logan fans and alex albon. 🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️
I JUST FUCKING SOBBED AHAHAHAHAHAHA
“Maybe,” Max says, placing his hand on the edge of the top crate, just centimeters away from Charles’ thigh, “they should have asked whose hotel room you stayed in last night?”
Redbull!Charles from all to play for by @drivestraight
Rambling under the cut for author…
I feel like I owe a lot to this fic. Objects in mirror was my gateway drug into lestappen and pretty much the reason why I decided to stick around in the fandom in the first place. Completely blown away by how insanely well written it was. And subsequently fell so deep into the ship. I remember first finding it in around February? Gave you a big rambling anon ask back then about how good it was too fnjfnf I still reread it once a month just to relive the emotions.
I saw an ask you answered the other day saying you don’t get fanart that often and I was like ?!?? How is this possible?? Not under my watch
I know you’re not much into lestappen anymore but I’m really grateful for all the fics you’ve written for them! Just happy to read anything you post nowadays, doesn’t matter what ship. I love your writing so much. You’re extremely talented ❤️
Hope u like the art, it was made with lots of love 🫶
You think you're the painter, but you're actually just the canvas
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