hi everyone, here is around/almost 500 and counting fic recommendations of fics/blurbs/one shots that i've read over about 3 years, and have loved and enjoyed reading and wish to share to make it easier to find my liked fics.
because of the length i will have to make a few posts on this all linked as a repost but i will pin the last repost/full length version, so sorry apparently theres a length limit on posts so please check the pinned post on my page for the full thing x
they are mostly fluff and smut because i avoid angst as i'm not emotionally strong enough for it đ but there may be some.
all credits of course go to the writers who i appreciate for their work and dedication, and i'd like authors to know that i and many other readers greatly appreciate the effort and time you take to produce such good works.
this post includes and is displayed in the following order from the least to most amount of links per fandom/group (people with the most links will be at the bottom) ;
uk youtubers
Alfie Buttle, Arthur Frederick, Harry Lewis
others
Aaron Taylor Johnson, Rodrick Heffley, Miguel O'hara
football
Jordan Henderson, Trent Alexander-Arnold, Virgil Van Dijk
marauders/ harry potter
Oliver Wood, Remus Lupin, James Potter
Tennis
Carlos Alcaraz
Formula 1
Arthur Leclerc, Kevin Magnussen, Lando Norris, Kimi Raikkonen, Jenson Button, Fernando Alonso, Valterri Bottas, Lance Stroll, Lewis Hamilton, Toto Wolff, Mick Schumacher, Max Verstappen, Pierre Gasly, Daniel Ricciardo, Carlos Sainz, Charles Leclerc.
other fic recommendation lists and masterlsists i use
credits to authors
if any links do not work or there are any issues please let me know!
all links attached are things i have read and enjoy reading, so the list will grow as i continue to engage but please don't ask me to add fics i havent read or people i dont read for
and once again thankyou so much to the authors, your work does not go unnoticed and i hope fellow readers using this list show those authors some love and engagement
pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader
summary: in which charles makes an offensive comment and you put him on a sex ban OR you and charles tease each other for an entire week and charles wants to fuckinâ ruin you for it
warnings: smut!, basically all smut, teasing, edging, horny horny charles, some fluff (I guess lol), language, p in v, idk what I'm missing, NOT PROOFREAD
word count: ~8.1k
author's note: hi this is in my queue and I suck at using it so not sure what time this will be posted at. just whenever the queue does it I guess (it has a mind of its own)... so I hope u enjoy!! I missed writing for Charles and he's such a cheeky horny fucker in this. hope y'all enjoy!! let me know what you think :))) love hearing from y'all! xoxo
One of those offhand comments when his mind is somewhere else. And its not cruel or even intentional. Itâs justâŚ.careless.
Charles is standing near the front door, one of his feet propped up against the wall, bent at the knee as he ties the laces of his sneaker. The hem of his faded Ferrari hoodie rides up a little. Giving you a quick look at his freshly tanned skin from summer break a few weeks ago, and black boxers peeking out above the waistband of his jeans.
Hair is still damp from the shower. Jaw sharp, freshly shaven. Thereâs a faint flush across his cheeksâŚlike always when heâs in a rush.
Youâre standing in the kitchen, mug in hand, kitchen drawer still open from where you were reaching for a spoon.
And then you hear it.
He mutters it under his breath. Casual and dismissive. Like he thinks you wonât really hear him.
âYou always have to make everything a big deal, donât you?â
You pause. Hand still on the kitchen drawer handle. Slowly turning your head.
âExcuse me?â
He doesnât even flinch. Heâs so focused on his shoe, tugging the laces. âI just meanâŚâ he huffs a laugh before standing upright. Tossing his phone into the pocket of his jeans. âItâs not that deep, yeah? I just forgot to text. It happens.â
He shrugs his shoulders while he turns toward the door. One hand on the door handle, jaw tilted casually at you like thatâs the end of the conversation.
He doesnât even realize what heâs done. Thatâs the funny part.
Heâs all warm and beautiful. And stupidly smug. Voice still slightly raspy from sleep. And the soft pink flush across his cheeks that always appears whenever heâs in a rush is in full bloom.
You donât yell. Or even move fast.
Just set your mug down with a soft clink. Walk toward him all soft and sweet.
He blinks when you get close, one brow lifting as he leans across the door as you place a hand on his chest. His heart beat steady beneath the palm of your hand.
And then you smile. Sweetly.
âNo sex,â you say.
His expression falters.
âWhat?â
You tilt your head. âOne week.â
He frowns. Confused. âWaitâŚmon amourâŚwhat are youâŚâ
âMaybe then youâll remember to think before you speak.â
His mouth parts open a bit. âMon amour, câmon. Youâre not actuallyâŚâ
You press a soft kiss to his cheek.
Step back.
âHave a good day, baby.â
And then walk back into the kitchen without another word. Behind you, you hear him huff a deep breath and then the front door click shut.
And you smile into your coffee mug with a soft laugh.
-
You donât see him again until just after dinner time. When the sun has gone down, the sky still a dark mix of fading pinks.
The door creaks open a little slower than usual. His keys rattle as they fall into the dish on the entry way table. Youâre standing at the kitchen counter, scrolling through your phone. A glass of wine half-full beside you.
You donât look up right away. But you can feel his stare burning you as he stands in the arch way.
And when you do, you can see the slight tension in his bones. Like heâs unsure if this ban was serious. Or if maybeâŚhe can charm his way out of it.
âSo,â He says, easing up toward you as he pushes off the frame. âAbout this no sex thingâŚâ
You drop your phone to the counter. Grab your glass of wine and sip it. âWhat about it?â
âI think it was just a heat of the moment decision, yeah?â He says. âI meanâŚyou were emotional.â
You glance at him slowly, still holding the stem of your wine glass. âEmotional?â
He winces. âMâsorryâŚI didnât mean it like that.â
You hum, a small smile curling on your lips. Set the glass down. âRight. Just like you didnât mean to call me dramatic.â
Charles leans against the counter beside you, his hand slipping onto your lower back. Fingers brushing against the hem of your shirt like itâs innocent.Â
âI mean, you donât really wanna do thisâŚlike we both know youâll suffer too.â His voice dropping lower. Deeper.
And its not like you guys canât live without sex. But you guys had a very healthy sex lifeâŚto say the least. Especially when he was home and not traveling for work.
You look at him.
And his face is so fuckinâ smug. Cocky. So overconfident like when he thinks heâs about to win something.Â
âYâsure about that?â You raise one brow.
He flattens his palm against your spine now. Firmer. The heat of his palm pressing into you.
âOh yeahâŚyouâll last, like what, a day?â He leans in, mouth at your ear. âYâalways get so needy at night, baby.â
You feel your breath hitch as his teeth nip your ear lobe, hand slipping underneath the hem of your shirt to feel your skin.Â
You smile. âGood thing Iâve got toys then, yeah?â
He freezes.
And you walk away.
-
You wake up rather slowly. With your eyes still closed and body tangled in the sheets, you roll to your side. Instinctively reaching out across the bed to findâŚnothing. The warmth of his body has faded, making you aware that heâs probably been up for a while.
And then the smell of coffee hits you. And something sweet? Like honey or warm butter.
You blink your eyes open. The room is still pretty dim with the curtains drawn. Your robe has fallen open in the duration of your sleep.
You yawn and stretch your limbs. Toes pressing into the cool floor when you finally lift yourself out of bed.
And then you hear him.
A quiet thud of a drawer closing. The clatter of a pan. And humming.
His voice. No particular song. Just something under his breath and soft.Â
You move down the hall slowly, still trying to wake up. And when you turn into the kitchen, you halt.
Because heâs there.
Charles. Shirtless. Standing at the stove with his back to you. His hair is a messâŚbut that wild morning look only makes him prettier.Â
And heâs wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers. Low on his hips, hugging his ass perfectly. Giving you a perfect view of the slope of his spine, the toned back muscles, and his tanned skin.Â
Thereâs a pot of coffee on the counter with two mugs. Toasted bread on a plate, gleaming just a bitâŚmost likely honey butter melted onto them. Even a bowl of fruit. The pieces are cut unevenly but it looks like he tried to make it nice. Only to get impatient with it.
And heâs just humming. Like nothingâs wrong. Like he isnât currently under a sex ban.
He turns when he hears your footsteps near. Looks over his shoulder and gives you that slow, stupid smile.
âMorning, baby,â he mutters. His voice sweet as he turns back toward the pan. âHope youâre hungry, mon amour.â
You donât answer. Just move to the coffee pot and pour yourself a mug. His eyes flick toward you for a moment. Quick. Tracking the way your hands wrap around the mug. The way the mug lifts to your lips.
âMade your favorite,â he says it lightly. âPut some honey butter on the toast tooâŚfigured youâd want somethinâ sweet today, yeah?â
You take a sip.
âMmm. What tricks do you have up your sleeve?â
He shrugs. âJust wanted to take care of you.â
You eye him suspiciously. And thatâs when you notice it.
The way his jaw is clenched a bit tighter today. How his fingers tap against the stove. The way his voice sounds like heâs trying so hard to swallow every filthy thought.
He wants you to forgive him.Â
But heâs horny. And heâs dying.
Because the thing isâŚCharles was always like this in the morning.
Not just sweet and domestic. But horny. Like ridiculously horny.
And mornings had always been your thing.
Half the time you both wouldnât even make it out of bed. Youâd feel him pull your body into his, his breath warm against your neck as he rutted himself between your thighs. Lazy, greedy grinds that made you wetter with every stroke. No prep or talking. Just the heat of his skin against yours. The push of his cock against your underwear.
Sometimes he didnât even bother pulling them off. Would just push them to the side, while one hand gripped your hip and the other fisted the fabric of the pillow beside your head as he shoved himself into you. With a grunt and a fuck, youâre so tight in the morning.
Sometimes there were mornings when heâd drag you out of the bed, drop to his knees, and eat you out like a starved man. Tongue fucking you, fingers digging into your ass, as he moaned against your cunt. Always messy and loud.Â
Mornings when heâd flip you over onto your stomach and fuck you deep. His hand pressed into the nape of your neck as he leans forward and pants in your ear like look at this fuckinâ messy cunt. Pussyâs dripping all over.
And then there were desperate mornings. Like the ones when he got home late from a red-eye flight after a race weekend. And youâd barely even get to open your eyes before he was on you. Pulling your legs apart. Muttering things like need you so bad, baby and need this cunt around me right fuckinâ now.
And youâd let him every single time. Because he sounded absolutely wrecked every time. Soft whimpers pushing past his lips at the feel of you wrapped around him. And when he came? FuckâŚheâd make a mess. All over your stomach. Your breasts. Your thighs. Sometimes your back.
So watching him stand at the stove, humming, like heâs not hard. Like he didnât jack off in the shower just to take the edge off. And you almost feel bad. Key word: almost.
Especially because you know what that cock feels like inside you first thing in the morning. How desperate he gets for you. How desperate he gets when he canât have it.
And now heâs trying to be cute. As if he didnât spend the last three years fucking you before breakfast like it was the only way to start his day.
You take another sip of coffee.
And smile.
Heâs still humming. Still standing there like his cock isnât straining against his boxers. Like he didnât look at your bare legs and have to press his hips into the counter for just a second longer for some relief.
Heâs trying so hard to act unaffected. And completely failing.
âCanât believe youâre up this early,â you mutter into your mug. Taking another small sip with a groan.
Charles glances over his shoulder. Smirks.
âCouldnât sleep that well.â
You hum. Take another sip.Â
âYou jerked off in the shower, hm?â
His shoulders tense immediately. And thatâs how you know.
He huffs a small laugh. âThought I was quiet.â
You shrug. âMm not really. Heard it.â
He turns the stove off. Turns to look at you and leans his hands on the edge of the counter.
His eyes darker. Smile vanished.
âYouâre mean, yâknow that?â
You raise a single bow.Â
âWalkin around half-naked. Sitting there with those fuckinâ thighs out.â He tilts his head a bit. âAnd then asking me about jerking off like itâs not big deal.â
You take another sip. âJust makinâ conversation, baby.â
His tongue darts out to lick his lips. A slight twitch in his jaw before heâs moving across the room. Until heâs standing right in front of you. Between your knees.
And when he bends forward, he rests one hand on the stool. His face right near your ear.
âI came thinkinâ bout your cunt,â he whispers. âThe way it clenches around me even when youâre half-asleep. So fuckin wet, mon ange. Always fuckinâ soaked.â
You feel your thighs squeeze together. And he smiles because he knows.Â
âWanted to wake you up with my tongue,â he mutters. âWanted to push those knees into your chest and lick you cleanâŚbut nope, you wanna play this stupid fuckinâ game.â
You swallow hard. âI told youâŚjust one week.â
His hand drops to your thigh, slipping up toward the hem of your robe. His touch warm and enough to make you twice.
âI give it two more daysâŚmax.â He says. âBefore youâre begging me to put my cock in you.â
You press a kiss to his cheek. Just like the first day. Sip your coffee and smile.
-
You hear the door open and shut.
Then a voice.
âBaby?â
You donât answer. Youâre just sinking into the couch cushions. Scrolling on your phone. But as soon as he takes one step into the living room, you glance. And instantly regret it.
Because heâs shirtless.
Chest flushed and glistening with swear. Hair pushed back, damp and messy. A small towel slung over his shoulder. A pair of black gym shorts low on his hips. Like really low. And the outline of his cock is absurd.
Your mouth goes dry.
Charles notices the way your thighs press together. The way your eyes drop once. But then quickly dart back up like you didnât just stare at his cock.
He smirks.
âMiss me?â
You donât answer. And you donât really have to cause heâs already towering over you. Looking at you like he canât decide whether he wants to fuck you or put his mouth on your cunt.
âDidnât even showerâŚâ His voice low. âFigured Iâd come give you a little show first.â
He presses one hand to his cock. Palms himself.
A faint dark spotâŚwet spotâŚvisible.
âWas hard the entire time,â he mumbles. âHad to run laps with my cock leakinâ. Thinking about your little cunt.â
You donât move an inch.
âEveryone at the gym was trying to talk to meâŚall I could think about was bendinâ you over on one of the benches and fucking you in front of the mirrors.â
âCharlesâŚâ
âDonât even care if someone watchedâŚjust would let them,â he groans. âLet them watch me shove my cock into you while you sob.â
You let out a breath of air.
And he grins. Mean.
âOhhh,â his eyes crinkle. âGot you now?â
âNo.â
âCould make you come like this,â he whispers. âRubbin on you. Bet youâd let me.â
âNope.â
âYou would.â He demands. Ruts a little harder against his palm. Groans. âClenching your thighs like that. Can tell youâre dripping, yeah? Bet you woke up soakedâŚneeding my cock like yâalways take it in the morning.â
You inhale. Shaky.
And heâs right. Thats the fucked up part of it.
âMâgonna go shower,â He palms himself one more time. Calling over his shoulder as he says, âFeel free to join, baby.â
He turns. Walks away.
Grinning.
And you let your head fall back against the couch with an audible sigh.
-
Usually, when you and Charles go out to dinner, you donât sit on the same side of the booth. But tonight, Charles insisted. Said he wanted to be close. Something about how romantic it was.
But reallyâŚheâs hunting.
The restaurant is dim and warm. Small tea-light candles flicker in the midst of every table. The clatter of silverware against plates, hushed by conversations.
Your skin is still warm and flushed a bit red from the bath you took earlier. And Charles?
WellâŚ.heâs a fucking nightmare. A beautiful, horny nightmare.
Dressed in a white dress shirt with he buttons half-undone at the collar. Just enough to show the flush skin of his neck. Sleeves rolled up his forearms.Â
Heâs been quiet for most of the dinner. Not in a moody or sulking way. The kind of way that tells you heâs up to no good.
Youâre wearing a black dress. Slit high. The fabric soft but short, causing your thighs to slightly stick to the leather booth. His hands rest behind you, knee slightly pushed into yours.
He starts out subtle.Â
A quick brush of his fingertips along your shoulder. Then your back. All while he nods attentively to whatever youâre saying.Â
But his hand just dips lower and lower with every second that passes. Eventually reaching the skin of your thigh.
And you shoot him a look. Which he just responds with a sly smile as if to say mânot doing anything.
The water comes by with a dessert menu. Charles lets you order claiming that youâll just want to share anyways. So he doesnât even bother to look at the menu.
And when he walks away, he lets his fingers graze higher up your thigh.
Your breath falters. Fingers gripping into the edge of the tablecloth.
âCharles.â
âYou said no sex,â he mutters, not looking at you. âDidnât say anything about touching.â
Your jaw clenches tight.
He hums. âDonât make a scene now, mon ange.â
His fingers graze the skin right where your dress ends. Then slips beneath it. And you try to shift your thighs to trap his wrist, but heâs faster. Smarter.
âYouâre wearing the red ones,â he groans into your ear. âThe lace onesâŚmy fuckinâ favorite.â
You donât answer. Canât answer.
He keeps his eyes steady on the flickering candle on the table as his middle finger drags slowly up the center strip of your panties.
âAlready wet,â he groans.
You reach for your wine glass with both hands. Needing something to hold onto. Take a long sip.
âTell me to stop,â his lips brush against your ear. âCâmon, I dare you.â
Heâs barely moving his fingers. Just softly tracing the outline of your cunt through the barely there fabric. Back and forth. Over and over. Occasionally pressing the pad of his finger right over your clit.
âMâgod baby, can feel how hot you are.â He whispers.
You glance around the restaurant in a panic. Cheeks flushing red from his touch. But no one is paying attention. And the table and tablecloth cover everything.
âYâknow what Iâd do if you just let me fuck you?â He breathes, mouth lingering near your jaw as he presses a single soft kiss. Quick. So quick you almost thought you imagined it.
You feel the air catch in your throat as your hands grip even tighter onto the wine glass.
âIâd drag you right into that bathroom, baby. Sit you in the edge of the sink. Rip these pathetic panties to the side and slide into you nice and slow. Deep. Sit there until your eyes roll back.â
âCharles,â you hiss through your teeth. Placing the wine glass down on the table.
But your thighs are shaking. And you donât want him to stop either.
âIâd make you say my name. Over and overâŚâ He presses his finger to your clit again, then drags his finger in a rubbing motion over.
You press your hand over his wrist, gripping it as tightly as you did with the wine glass.Â
And then he stops.Â
Smiling sweetly. Casually. Like he didnât just rub your cunt in a fucking restaurant.
âMmm, so how âbout dessert?â
You blink.
And he grins.
-
Itâs late at night and Charles swears heâs about to lose is fucking mind.
The room is dark. Well, aside from the faint glow of the TV playing a random re-run of something neither of you are really bothering to watch.
Youâre turned up on your side, facing the wall. Back to Charles. Breathing even and eyes shut. But youâre not asleepâŚand Charles knows it.
Behind you, you hear the faint movement of the sheets rustling. A shift of weight. One heavy, slow breath. And thenâŚthe sound.
That slow and slick sound of skin dragging over skin. The wet stroke of his fist wrapping around his cock. Up and down.
You stay still. Halt your breathing.
âFuck,â Charles groans behind you. âYâkilling me.â
You say nothing but your body has gone rigid as you face away from him.
He grunts softly. The mattress dipping with each rock of his hips. And you can hear how wet he is. His precum loud and coated all over his cock. Heâs been edging himself all fucking day.Â
And now this is what itâs come to.
Charles, flat on his back, fucking his cock under the covers like some desperate fucking animal.
âYânot even gonna look at me?â He pants. A small whimper pushing past his lips in the middle of his sentence.
You donât respond.
He strokes himself harder. âLayinâ here with my cock in my hand, leaking all over the place. Yâknow how messy I get for you, baby.â
Your thighs clench under the sheets. But still, you remain silent.
âPussyâs so fuckinâ good,â he groans, throwing his head back deeper into the pillow. âSo fuckinâ tight. Always fits me so goodâŚand IâdâŚIâd come the very second I slid in, yâknow that?â
You swallow hard. And he hears it.
âOh,â he huffs out a small laugh. Itâs dark and mean. âYâliked that one, yeah?â
You shift a fraction. But itâs more than enough to keep Charles talking.
âCanât stop thinkinâ about it,â he mutters, his hand moving faster. Slowing down at the tip of his cock. âWish youâd sit on my cockâŚwish I could just drag you over here and split you open on it.â
Your thighs clench.Â
âWouldnât even do it slow,â he adds. âNot after this fuckinâ shit you pulled. Wouldâve bent you over, yanked your hair, and make you cry for it.â
His voice ends in a moan. The face of his hand faltering as he ruts his hips upward. Heâs close.
You finally turn your head to catch a glimpse of him. The faint TV light outlining his figure.
Heâs flushed. Hair a tousled mess. Brows furrowed in concentration but as if heâs in pain. Mouth cracked open and lips pink and slip.
His abs flex. Chest heaving as he jerks in sharp strokes.
But his eyes?Â
Already locked on you.
âWant you to sit on it,â he groans. âWanna feel that cunt stretch open around meâŚfuck, babyâŚjust lemme feel it, yeah? Let me feel you..just this once.â
You shift again. A small whimper pushing past your lips that you didnât mean to let out.
And thatâs all it takes.
âFuckâŚfuck,â he hisses as his hips lift off the bed. âFuck..fuck, Iâm coming.â
And he does. Hard.
Like body convulsing, throat tight with a moan, as he spills across his stomach. And its so much that it coats his hand, bits of hit reaching up to his chest. A messy release that drags on for what feels like forever. He groans again, dragging his hand slowly over himself, milking it.
And itâs so fucking hot.
That you canât move. Or even speak.
You just keep watching with your thighs clenched. Nipples hard.
And when Charles finally looks back at you, âYouâre fucked, mon amour.â
You blink. Eyes wide like a deer in headlights. âMe?â
His voice is hoarse. âOh yeah, you. Mâgonna fucking ruin you for this.â
-
The sun is violent. Bright and beaming, beating down on the tiles around the pool. The pool water shimmers in its reflection. Skin glistening.
Everything seems totally calm and normal. Just two people, a loving couple, sunbathing and enjoying a relaxing pool day.
But if you look closerâŚitâs unbearable.
Youâre lounging on your back, a pair of black sunglasses you stole from Charles perched on the bridge of your nose. And the tiniest bikini across your skin. The one he bought you while in Mallorca one year. The one that always made him nearly foam at the mouth.
And Charles hasnât moved in nearly ten minutes.
Heâs just sitting on the edge of the lounger, elbows pressed into his knees, face buried into the palms of his hands. Every few moments, the only motion he does is dragging his fingers into the roots of his hair. Like it will reset his brain or something.
You glance over at him.
His bathing suit hangs low on his hips. Like dangerously low. The muscles in his back twitching every time you so much as shift in your seat. And when you stretchâŚback arching, tits straining against the tiny triangles of the suitâŚhe actually groans.
âBabyâŚyouâre killing me,â he says. His voice rough.
He shifts slightly. Adjusting the obvious bulge forming in his shorts while exhaling a laugh that sounds more like heâs in pain than anything.
âI love you,â he says. âYâknow that right?â
Your heart clenches, cheeks burn at the words of endearment. âYes?â
âNoâŚlike I fucking love you. Iâd die for you.â He looks at you as if heâs unraveling. âBut if you keep lying there like thatâŚtits barely covered, archingâŚknowing that I canât touch youâŚâ
He drags a palm over his face. âMâtrying to be good, I swearâŚâ Dropping his head back between his shoulders.
The corners of your lips curl upward, amused. âAre you really?â
He snaps his head back up to look at you. And his eyes are dark. Feral almost.
âI could go weeks without sex, easy. I donât need it like that.â His voice softens. âI love you for you.â
But then his voice drops lower. Deeper. More desperate and needy. âBut this? Tellin me that I canât have you? While walkinâ around like that?â
He leans back on his lounger, hand palming his cock. Shameless. Doesnât even try to hide it.
âBet you want me to fuck you against this chairâŚdrag you over my cock âtil youâre crying.â He lets out a groan.
âCharlesâŚâ
He hums. âStill not giving in?â
You exhale shakily. You want to so bad. âYâknow the rules.â
He lets out a soft laugh. Closes his eyes for a few moments. His hands pressing down harder on his cock.
âDo you know how fucking hard it is not to make love to you right now?â
Your body stills. Pulse thrumming.Â
âYouâre everything to me,â he says. âNot just the sex. Not just your body. You.â His voice cracks a bit. Fingers still teasing the base of his cock through the fabric of his suit.
âIâd wait forever if I had to.â
He turns to look at you. Eyes locking with yours. âBut if you donât let me fuck you soon, mâgonna come in my hand thinking about how tight your cunt squeezes me.â
You bite your lip. Thighs pressing together. Nipples aching.
His smile widens.
âThought so.â
And then Charles gets up, fists his towel over his shoulder, and heads inside.
-
Youâve barely made it thirty minutes outside of Monaco before Charles starts being a menace.
And the Ferrari is too sleek, too fast, and too tiny for the kind of restraint heâs pretending to have.
It starts with his hand.
Resting casually on the gear shift before innocently slipping to your thigh. You donât look at him. Just take a small sip from your water bottle like you barely know heâs there.
The heat of his palm slipping through the thin fabric of your sundress.
His hand trails a little higher.
You glance at him. Eyes narrowed. âReally?â
His lips twitch, but his eyes stay focused on the road ahead. âWhat?â
âYour hand.â
âOh.â He squeezes your thigh. âThis one?â
You shake your head, pushing his hand playfully off your leg.
He laughs, moves his hand to lower the air conditioning, then places it back on your thigh like you didnât just shove him off. âJust lovinâ on you, baby.â
âMore like manipulating me.â
âCanât a man touch his girlfriend?â
âNot one that canât keep it in his pants.â
He hums. Pretending to think. âTechnically, Iâve kept it in my pants forâŚâ His eyes shift to look at the clock. Doing math in his head. âFour and a half days.â
You snort. âWant a trophy?â
âNo,â his lips curl. âJust your cunt.â
You choke, turning your head abruptly to him. âCharles!â
âMon amour,â he groans, tossing his head back against the seat. âYouâve no idea how hard this is.â
âI do,â you cross your legs.
âOh, donât fuckinâ do that,â he nearly whines. âDonât squeeze your thighs like youâre the one in pain.â
âKeep your hands to yourselfâ You look back at the road.
âIâve kept my cock to myselfâŚdoesnât that get me a reward?â
âYou jerked off twice yesterday.â
His eyes widen slightly. Cheeks redden. âBecause you wore that little fuckinâ robe all around the house. Teasing me. Mâgonna burn it after this week, I swear.â
âYouâre so dramatic.â
âMe?â He scoffs. âYouâre the one who said no sex for a week because I forgot to text back.â
âYou called me dramatic.â
âI called you beautiful,â he argues. âAnd then I called you dramatic. Which you then proved by banning sex for a week. So honestly, I was right.â
You groan.
He smiles.
Thereâs a pause of silence. Just the low rumble of the car engine. The low music humming.Â
âAre you wet right now?â
You feel your back stiffen.
âCharles.â
âI just wanna know,â His eyes still on the road. Fingers dragging slowly up and down your leg. âI mean..youâre wearinâ this little dress. Itâs warm out. And youâve barely touched me in four days.â
âYouâre acting like its been a year.â
He smirks. âJust tell me.â
He inches his fingers a little higher, fingers toying with the hem of your dress.
You clench your jaw. Turn to look out the window.
He hums.Â
âThatâs what I thought.â
-
Youâre lying back against the pillows with your robe loosely tied. Legs parted just enough to let him between them as he hovers over you. One knee between your thighs and the other digging into the mattress near your hip. His skin is warm. Like it usually is, but itâs also flushed a light shade of red from his recent shower. And he smells like the mint toothpaste and your vanilla scented shampoo that he always loves to steal whenever you buy it
And his lips are already on you.
Itâs gentle. Just the slow sweep of his mouth on yours. Sweet. But then he sighs into it. A deep, frustrated, and needy sound..and then heâs deepening it.
His lips parting yours. Not rushed or anything but full. His tongue slipping in with a kind of insatiable hunger he always has.
You let him in deeper, lips parting for him, and his tongue slides against yours. Slow and smooth. Until you let out a soft whimper, and then it gets dirtier.
Sloppier.
âFuck, baby,â he groans into your lips. âDonât make that sound.â
You whimper again anyways. His hips pressing down to meet yours. Cock heavy and hard beneath the grey sweatpants. And you feel the thick outline of it against your core through the thin fabric of your panties.
Not thrusting. Just a slow, grinding drag of his cock against you.
Your breath catches. And he groans at the feeling.
âYâfeel that?â He pants against you. âFuckinâ aching. Have been for days, mon amourâŚthought youâd break by now.â
You open your mouth to respond but he cuts you off with another kiss. And his hand slips beneath your robe, gliding over your skin before settling on the space beneath your breast. Not grabbing or groping. Just holding you.
âI love you,â he mutters into your mouth. âSo muchâŚlike so much itâs make me fuckinâ stupid.â
Your head tips back and he kisses down your neck. A few slow, wet drags of his mouth over his throat while he drags his hips against your core again.
You whimper. And he grunts.
âYouâre not helping,â his voice cracks. Hoarse. âYou sound like you want it.â
And you do. Fucking god you want it. But you wonât say it. Not yet. Instead, you keep your fingers woven into his hair, tugging gently, with your mouth parted as he grinds against you again.
Another kiss. Deep and desperate. Tongue licking yours like he needs it to breathe. And he groans when he feels you arch up into him.
âMon amourâŚâ He pants, dragging his lips back toward your neck. Peppering kisses to the skin right beneath your jaw. âFuckâŚyouâre killing me.â
And then you feel something shift in him. You feel it in the way his hips slow. In the way his hold tightens. Like heâs trying to pull himself back from the edge with everything he has left in him.
You open your mouth to ask why did you stop. But he shakes his head before you can get any words out.
âCanât do this,â his voice is soft. âNot yetâŚâ
You furrow your brows.
âI want to,â he breathes, eyes flicking shut for a moment. âYouâve got no idea how fuckinâ much I want to.â
His mouth is close enough to kiss. But he doesnât move.
âI thought youâd break by now,â he whispers, a soft smile near your cheek.Â
You smile. A little breathless.
âIâve never seen you this worked up,â you drag your hand to cradle his jaw. Brushing your thumb along his cheek.
And he laughs under his breath. More of a frustrated sigh. âYeahâŚwell, Iâve never been told I couldnât fuck you. Itâs messing with my head.â
He presses a kiss to your cheek. Then your forehead.
âI love you,â he says again. Slower. Quieter. âMore than I want to fuck you. Which is saying a lot.â
You laugh, and he grins.
Then heâs pulling back completely. Settling beside you on the pillows, one hand still on your thigh.
âAnd when you do give inâŚâ His voice lowers. âYou wonât be able to walk the next day.â
-
The water is hot. Clinging to your skin as the steam fogs up the mirror and waves around the bathroom. A slight scent wafting in the air from the bubbles that used to be in there, but have gone down after sitting in there for some time. The candle on the table beside the tub has burned low.Â
Itâs peaceful. But your body just is not.
Youâve been on edge for days. Muscles aching with tension that no amount of sleep or stretching can remove. Youâve spent every night tangled in the sheets with your thighs pressed tight, occasionally grinding into nothing. Youâve been waking up with slick between your legs. The echo of Charlesâs voice in your head whispering the things heâd do if you just caved.
Charles leans agains the frame of the bathroom, arms crossed over his bare chest. Eyes trailing down the curve of your wet body. Just watching.
Heâs in those sweats again. Low on his hips, a little damp from where they clung to his freshly showered skin. And yet again, the outline of his cock is very apparent.
âPretty girl,â he mutters. âHiding from me again?â
You blink at him, slipping a little deeper in to the water. âMânot hiding.â
âNo?â He pushes off the frame and steps closer toward the tub. Slow. âThen why do I keep finding you in here, touching yourself like Iâm not here?â
You scoff. Cheeks reddening. âI was not!â
He hums. A small smirk on his lips. âLiar.â
He kneels beside the tub. And the movement of him bending down makes the waistband of his sweats dip just a little bit lower to show the sharp toned lines leading beneath it. The same lines youâve kissed thousands of times. The ones youâve bitten before heâs had your face pressed into the mattress.
He dips his fingers into the water. Reaching for your thigh. âYâgonna tell me how wet you are?âÂ
âCharles.â
âBeg me to stop teasing you?â His eyes darken. âOr beg for more?â
You exhale deeply. Your chest rising and falling. Charles eyes trailing to where your nipples peak through the soapy water. âI said no sex.â
He shrugs. âWe went over this, mon ange. Doesnât mean I cant touchâŚâ
Your cunt clenches around nothing. Thighs slightly twitching as he leans over the edge of the tub, his lips ghosting the skin of your neck.
âDoesnât mean I canât kiss you.â He presses a kiss. âDoesnât mean I canât talk like this.â Another kiss, closer to your jaw. âDoesnât mean I canât make you wet.â
You suck in a sharp breath. Head falling further back against the tub. âYouâre awful.â
âIâm in love with you,â he whispers. Nose pressing into your jaw. âAnd I want to fuck you so bad that itâs killing me.â
Your body erupts in goosebumps regardless of the steaming water.
âCharlesâŚâ
âLet me in,â he says. Voice rough and low. âPlease. Iâll be good. Iâll be slow. Whatever you wantâŚjustâŚplease,â He closes his eyes for a quick second. âNeed to feel you again. I cant do this anymore.â
You hesitate.
Nod.
His sweats hit the tiled floor so fast that it makes your stomach clench with need. Heâs in the tub not even a breath later. The water of the tub sloshing around, some of it spilling over the edge in the process. Until he slips in behind you, settling as he drags your back into his chest.
His cock thick and hot as it rests between your butt under the water.
You barely register how quickly he settled in the tub, before heâs gripping your thighs, pressing an open mouth kiss to your neck.
You instinctively grind against him once.
And his entire body jolts.
âYouâre gonna kill meâŚgonna fuckinâ kill me.â He mutters.
And then heâs pulling you up into him. Until the fat head of his cock is nudging against your core.
âSay you want it,â he breathes. Nipping at your ear lobe. âSay you want me to fuck you.â
You whimper. And his grip on you tightens.
âSay it,â Charles practically begs. Cock twitching against you. âSay you want me.â
His mouth finds your neck again. Kissing like a starved man. Sucking until your skin burns and his teeth scrape against you. One of his hand slips down, his palm splayed against the skin of your belly. While the other hooks behind your thigh, spreading you open.
And then you say it. Broken. Soft. Like you can barely even breathe. Want youâŚwant you to fuck meâŚple..
You donât even finish your sentence before Charles is groaning. Lifting you a tiny bit to guide the thick head of his cock into you. And he doesnât slam or rush into you. He just pushes in slow, like he wants to feel the slow stretch of each inch pushing into you.
âFuckinâ Christ,â he pants at the same time you moan a loud Oh my GodâŚ
And then heâs gone.
Thereâs no rhythm or patience. Just frantic, deep thrusts. The harsh sound of skin on skin barely muffled by the splashing water.
His hands gripping you like heâs afraid youâll vanish if he doesnât. And heâs so deep that it almost burns. Hitting that spot deep in your belly just right every single time.
âFuckâŚfuck fuck f-fuck, babyâŚ.canât hold it,â he grunts. Forehead pressed into your shoulder. Mouth pressing sloppy kisses down your neck.
You whimper. The heat building in your tummy too fast. Your thighs tightening and cunt clenching.
âCharlesâŚoh my godâŚâ
And then youâre coming.
Cunt clenching so hard that he chokes. A moan ripping from his throat as his cock twitches onceâŚtwiceâŚ
And then heâs done for.
Burying himself so deep into you that he shudders as he spills inside. Hips grinding helplessly. Cursing your name over and over.
When its over, he slumps against the tub. You leaning into him.
Breathless. Content.
âConsider that a gift,â he mumbles into your skin. âCause Iâm not going easy on you now.â
-
Charles doesnât let go of you.
Not even after heâs spilled inside you. Not after your cunt clenched around him so hard that it sent some of the water over the bath edge. His chest is still rising and falling. Arms wrapped tightly around you.
But eventually he moves.
Your thighs tremble as you try to shift around, but then heâs grabbing under your knees and arms in one quick motion. Lifting you straight out of the tub.
The bathroom air is cool, but his skin is hot and flushed against yours. Cock still hard against you, like he didnât just come. Like he didnât even take the edge off.Â
He lowers you onto the mattress slowly. Carefully. Like youâre something he worships (he does). Something he owns. But the second your back digs into the mattress, the illusion is gone.
âYâthink that little fuck in the bath was enough?â His voice low and sharp. âThink Iâm satisfied?â Heâs already climbing over you, one knee between your thighs. His cock dragging against your stomach.
You try to reach around him, but he grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head with a single hand. His eyes burning.
âDonât touch me like youâre all fuckinâ sweet or something,â he snaps, brushing his nose against yours. âYouâve been cruel all week.â
His other hand trails down your body. Slow. So slow that goosebumps follow. Stopping right near your cunt. Fingers skimming so close, but never landing where you want them the most.
You whimper beneath him, legs twitching a bit. But it only causes him to spread them wider.
He leans in close to your ear. And you can feel his breath against your skin. âI should edge you âtil you cry. Over and over. Want you sobbing.â
His grip on your wrist tightens as he slips his cock between your folds. Not pushing in. Just dragging the fat tip against your clit.
âYâfeel how soaked you are?â He hisses.
And then he drags it lower, pushing the tip barely into you. Maybe an inch. Before heâs pulling it back out.
You moan, head falling deeper in the cushion of the mattress.
And he grins. All mean. âOh, yâlike that, yeah?â He huffs a laugh. âThat little taste? Cause thatâs all you getâŚ.until you admit it.â
You breathe in sharply. Eyes pleading for something.
âAdmit you like being denied, baby. Admit that you love being treated like a toyâŚthat it gets you wet.â
He taps his cock against your entrance again. Messing with you. And your hips roll into him, trying to catch himâŚbut his hand moves to your waist and grips it hard. Pinning you down.
âNu-uh,â He grunts, dragging his lips over your cheek. âYouâll get what I give.â
âCharlesâŚâ
âShhhh.â Heâs smiling. But itâs not nice. Itâs cocky and mean. âBeen dripping for the past six days, hm?â
His fingers come up to the skin beneath your jaw, cradling it as he turns your face toward his.
âSay it.â
You blink, lips parted. âWhat?â
âThat you like beinâ teasedâŚdenied. EdgedâŚâÂ
You bite your lip, eyes narrowing.
But heâs dragging the head of his cock against you. Slower. And the movement has you gasping.
And he does it again.
Again.
And again.
Dragging his cock against your core, barely nudging in before he stops completely. Pinning you down harder with each twitch of your hips.
Youâre drenched. Thighs sticky with need. Body trembling with want. And aching.
He looks at you like youâre the most precious thing his eyes have ever seen. The way your skin flushes, the way your thighs shake, the way your eyes narrow in frustration.
âYâfeel how soaked you are, mâgod babyâŚâ He hisses, still barely pushing in.
And you gasp. High and desperate, as your fingers fist the pillow above your head.
He sinks inâŚjust a little bit.
And the stretch of his cock is enough to make your cunt clench down hard around almost nothing. But he pulls back out just as fast.
Charles laughs. Cruel.
You whimper as he taps the head of his cock against your clit again. Lines himself up and pushes in again.
Just enough to feel that stretching burn.
âFuck,â he groans. And then heâs leaning back off of you to shove two fingers deep into your cunt.
And you cry out, back arching off the mattress.
His fingers curl up instantly, hitting that spongy spot he knows you love oh so well. The spot that makes your vision blur.Â
You squeeze your thighs around his wrist. Bucking your hips against his hand as he works against you. Pushing and curling deep. His palm grinding against your clit.
âFuckâŚf-fuck CharlesâŚâ You gasp, careening forward to reach for his shoulders.Â
And his eyes watch the way your face twists, the way your bottom lip catches between your teeth.
âThatâs it,â he mutters. âGetting close already, yeah?â
You nod quickly, legs shaking.
âCan feel it,â he grins as his fingers fuck into you harder. Faster. âYouâre so fuckinâ close.â
And you whimper as your orgasm approaches. Itâs right there. Like right there.
And then he pulls out.
And you let out a loud sob. Hips jerking. Chasing nothing as you pant and cry out.
Charles lifts his soaked fingers to your mouth. Presses them to your lips.
âTaste what you fuckinâ canât have,â he snarls.
You suck his fingers in almost instantly. Tongue lapping against his fingers like youâre starving for it. Charles watches with his jaw clenched. His eyes glued to the way your mouth works against his fingers.
He pulls them free with a loud wet pop. His hand grabbing your face, squeezing your cheeks, with a single hand. Forcing your face to look at him.
âYâthink Iâm just gonna let you come when you were mean to me all week?â His lips brush against yours. âTellinâ me I canât have youâŚcanâtâŚâ He laughs. âYouâre literally mineâŚwalking around in all those tiny fuckinâ shortsâŚthe fuckinâ robe.â
He lets go of your face, pushing you back down against the mattress. Pressing his cock into your folds again. Hot and heavy.
And he thrusts forward, still not pushing in. Just nudging. Sitting there.
âPleaseâŚâ You beg.
But he shakes his head.
âNo,â he huffs. âNot til youâre begging. Not til you tell me that this little cuntâs mine to ruin whenever I say so or please.â
You sob again.Â
His hand slips down to your clit. The rough pads of his fingers brushing over you. Pressing.
âI like it,â you moan. He presses his fingers harder. âLoâŚlove when you tease me. I..fuck..â
And then his mouth is crashing into you. Cock pushing forward. Thick and so fucking hard.
He drives in deep.
And the stretch is so good that you think you might cry.
Charles moans right into your mouth. Forehead pressed against yours.
He thrusts again. And again. Deep. Punishing.Â
And itâs too much.
You sob out as your orgasm rises. Your body exploding, thighs clenching around him as you come hard around him. Shaking.
And Charles swears violently. Driving his hips in harder. Faster.Â
Hips stuttering until heâs spilling inside you again. White, hot sticky ropes of it. And it just keeps going.Â
Thereâs so much of it that he fills you until youâre full. Leaking out of you even when heâs stuffed deep inside.
âFuckâŚf-fuck, baby,â he breathes. His head falling into the crevice of your neck. Kissing you.
His hips slow. A few slow, lazy and greedy pumps just to feel you again. Because he can.
And youâre still panting beneath him. Limbs loose and sweaty. His weight pressing into you like a weighted blanket, cock still buried deep.
He moves a bit. Only to brush your hair out of your face.
And he looks at you like he canât believe youâre real. Eyes shining.
You blink at him. Blushing. âWhat?â
He just smiles. âCanât believe I survived six days of that.â
You laugh. âYou barely did.â
He nods. âYeahâŚthought about proposing on day threeâŚjust to see if youâd break.â
Your eyes widen. Heart hammering. âWhat?â
And his grin widens. âWouldâve done it tooâŚone kneeâŚcock hard as fuck.â
You snort, weaving your fingers into his hair. âYouâre disgusting.â
âMmm,â he hums. âBut you love me.â
You roll your eyes. Playfully. Lovingly. âUnfortunately.â
Charles sighs like heâs never been happier. Still buried inside you. Still leaning his weight into you.
synopsis: it's the start of the 2025 season, all the seats are filled and there are five new rookies on the grid, Max's teammate happens to be one of them and the most interesting to him.
includings: mild language, power dynamics, slight tension, slow-burn obsession, passive defiance, isolation, no liam lawson this season.
an: this is a pretty tame chapter!
The air of the preseason grid photoshoot always had the same feel to it.
Everything was sterilized. Overmanaged. Lights placed at the perfect angle to make every driver look polished and presentable. It didnât matter if you hated each otherâs guts, today was about the illusion of unity.
Competitive, but friendly. At least for the cameras.
Max had done this dance for almost fifteen years now. Smile when they tell you to. Pose how you were instructed to. Shake hands with drivers you couldnât care less about. Let the marketing team slap your face on another campaign and pretend it didnât make your skin crawl.
He was halfway through auto-piloting his way through his single shots when something shifted in his periphery.
His gaze caught on a lone figure near the edge of the set, half in shadow.
You.
While the rest of the rookies buzzed around the older drivers like moths to flame, you stood apart.
Silent.
Unmoved.
Untouched.
There was no wide-eyed wonder on your face. No forced humility. No half-hearted attempt to charm the veterans.
In fact, you looked like you hated being there.
Max tilted his head slightly, distracted. Someone said his name but he ignored it.
You didnât even glance in his direction. And that was what made it worse. He was Max Verstappen. And you didnât care.
Maybe thatâs what made him start walking over.
No announcement, no smile. Just the heavy sound of boots on concrete as he crossed the space between you like a predator drawn to fresh meat.
You didnât flinch.
âNervous?â He asked.
You barely turned your head. âNo. I just don't want to be here.â
Max lifted a brow. "Why?"
"Because it's a waste of time."
âThat what this is to you?â He asked, glancing around at the lights and organized chaos. âA waste?â
You finally turned to face him fully, sighing. âIt's just picture after picture for and what? Who cares what the grid looks like at the beginning of the year, it's not like everybody is going to stay where they are.â
His lips parted slightly, he wanted to say something but you were technically right.
He watched you for a moment. You didnât blink. You didnât fidget. You didnât lean in or soften your voice like you were trying to impress him.
You were justâŚthere.
Sharp.
Unapologetic.
It knocked him off-balance in the smallest, most infuriating way.
Right.â Max said, folding his arms, tone low and casual. âWant any tips for the season? Handling the media, maybe?â
You glanced over at him for the first time, another sigh leaving your lips. There was recognition in your expression but not the kind he was used to.
No admiration. No intimidation.
Just mild disappointment.
âNo.â You said flatly.
Max let out a short, dry laugh which was more like breath of amusement. He couldnât remember the last time someone spoke to him like that without hesitation. Without trying to impress him first.
âDo you like being this difficult?â He asked, smile twitching.
You turned your head back toward the photographers, completely unbothered. Your smirk was razor-edged.
All teeth, no warmth.
âYeah. It's fun knowing I'm pissing you off a little."
His smirk dipped slightly. Something flickered behind his eyes. There it was, not just attitude, but something colder. Controlled.
He leaned in a little, voice lowering. âAre you going to be this charming all season?â
âJust for you.â You shot back. Then, a beat. âIf you want someone to kiss your ass, go talk to Kimi. Heard heâs a huge fan.â
You didnât wait for his reaction. Just turned and walked toward the far side of the set like he hadnât just spoken to you. Like you hadnât just tossed a lit match at the ego of a world champion.
Max stood still, hands on his hips, tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek.
For the first time in a long time, someone had disarmed him, not with attitude, but with apathy. Total disinterest. Like he was some journalist and not a four time world champion.
He watched the way you moved, fluid, grounded, completely unbothered by the spectacle. When one of the cameramen asked you to join the group, you barely nodded, moving slow, making them wait for you.
Max ran a hand down his face, jaw tense.
What the fuck is your deal?
-â -
âAlright! Grid shot! Everyone in! helmets down or under the arms! And smile!â
The voice of the lead photographer rang out over the chaos, sharp and snappy as the drivers began to go to the spots they were told to. They had everybody staggered around, making sure no two were too close together.
Max moved to his spot as his manager pointed him to a spot. Routine. He didnât even glance at the camera.
He glanced at you.
You were slow to follow the others, still off to the side, adjusting your gloves like you couldnât care less how late you were making everyone. One of the PR staff hovered nearby, gently urging you forward with that same annoying smile they used on anyone who didnât play nice.
You walked over but you didnât rush. You didnât say sorry. You didnât even acknowledge the drivers already placed there. You just found your assigned place and stood there.
The first flash went off.
âOkay, hold itâ Great. Now, smiles, everyone!â
Max didnât smile, but he watched.
You didnât move.
âY/n, letâs get a smile from you?â The photographer tried again, more chipper this time.
You let out a small huff, like the photographer had just asked you to lift an engine, not smile. Max watched as you gave the camera that same strained expression. A smile in shape only. The disdain in your eyes made it clear just how fake it was.
Another click. Another flash.
âAlright, letâs change a few things. Lewis, can we have to turn your head a bit more to left, Oscar can you put your helmet down and Y/n, a little more open body language towards Charles?"
Maxâs eyes narrowed.
He watched the corner of your jaw tick, a sign of restrained annoyance, before you shifted the barest inch closer to Charlesâ who was all polite smiles and practiced posture.
You didnât even glance at him.
âA little more! Come on!"
Charles, ever the perfect boy, offered a small smile, but you angled away slightly. The move was so subtle, so graceful, it looked like nothing. But Max saw it for what it was.
Defiance.
âLetâs try that one more timeâY/n, eyes on me, big and sweet smile this time?â
Click. Flash.
Nothing.
A murmur rippled through the crew behind the camera. You were throwing off the center symmetry. The balance. The vibe.
Max nearly laughed.
He watched as the photographer came forward again, trying to reset everyone. âY/n can you tilt your head a little bit and not narrow your eyes, it looks like you're glaring."
And this time, Max caught it:
Your hand, still gripping your helmet, flexed just slightly as you took in a sharp breath.
You were holding back. Barely.
Another few clicks. Another flash. Then the photographer stepped back again with a sigh.
âAlright. Letâs do a few more then we can get shots of teammates."
You didnât change your expression.
And Max? Max couldnât stop watching.
Heâd expected someone cold from your earlier dismissal. But this was something else entirely. You werenât just disinterested. You were quietly hostile. Not with words, but with stillness. With posture. With refusal.
Where other drivers played their part, smoothed their image, fell into line, you did none of that.
And somehow, that made you magnetic.
He shifted his stance, just slightly, tilting his body so he could study you out of the corner of his eye while pretending to glance toward the team staff. You were staring straight ahead, jaw set,.
And thenâas if you felt him watchingâyou turned.
Your eyes met his.
Maxâs chest tightened.
There was no smile. No softness. Just that same unimpressed calm. But the tiniest lift at the corner of your mouth suggested something else now.
hi everyone, here is around/almost 500 and counting fic recommendations of fics/blurbs/one shots that i've read over about 3 years, and have loved and enjoyed reading and wish to share to make it easier to find my liked fics.
because of the length i will have to make a few posts on this all linked as a repost but i will pin the last repost/full length version, so sorry apparently theres a length limit on posts so please check the pinned post on my page for the full thing x
they are mostly fluff and smut because i avoid angst as i'm not emotionally strong enough for it đ but there may be some.
all credits of course go to the writers who i appreciate for their work and dedication, and i'd like authors to know that i and many other readers greatly appreciate the effort and time you take to produce such good works.
this post includes and is displayed in the following order from the least to most amount of links per fandom/group (people with the most links will be at the bottom) ;
uk youtubers
Alfie Buttle, Arthur Frederick, Harry Lewis
others
Aaron Taylor Johnson, Rodrick Heffley, Miguel O'hara
football
Jordan Henderson, Trent Alexander-Arnold, Virgil Van Dijk
marauders/ harry potter
Oliver Wood, Remus Lupin, James Potter
Tennis
Carlos Alcaraz
Formula 1
Arthur Leclerc, Kevin Magnussen, Lando Norris, Kimi Raikkonen, Jenson Button, Fernando Alonso, Valterri Bottas, Lance Stroll, Lewis Hamilton, Toto Wolff, Mick Schumacher, Max Verstappen, Pierre Gasly, Daniel Ricciardo, Carlos Sainz, Charles Leclerc.
other fic recommendation lists and masterlsists i use
credits to authors
if any links do not work or there are any issues please let me know!
all links attached are things i have read and enjoy reading, so the list will grow as i continue to engage but please don't ask me to add fics i havent read or people i dont read for
and once again thankyou so much to the authors, your work does not go unnoticed and i hope fellow readers using this list show those authors some love and engagement
hi everyone, here is around/almost 500 and counting fic recommendations of fics/blurbs/one shots that i've read over about 3 years, and have loved and enjoyed reading and wish to share to make it easier to find my liked fics.
because of the length i will have to make a few posts on this all linked as a repost but i will pin the last repost/full length version, so sorry apparently theres a length limit on posts so please check the pinned post on my page for the full thing x
they are mostly fluff and smut because i avoid angst as i'm not emotionally strong enough for it đ but there may be some.
all credits of course go to the writers who i appreciate for their work and dedication, and i'd like authors to know that i and many other readers greatly appreciate the effort and time you take to produce such good works.
this post includes and is displayed in the following order from the least to most amount of links per fandom/group (people with the most links will be at the bottom) ;
uk youtubers
Alfie Buttle, Arthur Frederick, Harry Lewis
others
Aaron Taylor Johnson, Rodrick Heffley, Miguel O'hara
football
Jordan Henderson, Trent Alexander-Arnold, Virgil Van Dijk
marauders/ harry potter
Oliver Wood, Remus Lupin, James Potter
Tennis
Carlos Alcaraz
Formula 1
Arthur Leclerc, Kevin Magnussen, Lando Norris, Kimi Raikkonen, Jenson Button, Fernando Alonso, Valterri Bottas, Lance Stroll, Lewis Hamilton, Toto Wolff, Mick Schumacher, Max Verstappen, Pierre Gasly, Daniel Ricciardo, Carlos Sainz, Charles Leclerc.
other fic recommendation lists and masterlsists i use
credits to authors
if any links do not work or there are any issues please let me know!
all links attached are things i have read and enjoy reading, so the list will grow as i continue to engage but please don't ask me to add fics i havent read or people i dont read for
and once again thankyou so much to the authors, your work does not go unnoticed and i hope fellow readers using this list show those authors some love and engagement
hi everyone, here is around/almost 500 and counting fic recommendations of fics/blurbs/one shots that i've read over about 3 years, and have loved and enjoyed reading and wish to share to make it easier to find my liked fics.
because of the length i will have to make a few posts on this all linked as a repost but i will pin the last repost/full length version, so sorry apparently theres a length limit on posts so please check the pinned post on my page for the full thing x
they are mostly fluff and smut because i avoid angst as i'm not emotionally strong enough for it đ but there may be some.
all credits of course go to the writers who i appreciate for their work and dedication, and i'd like authors to know that i and many other readers greatly appreciate the effort and time you take to produce such good works.
this post includes and is displayed in the following order from the least to most amount of links per fandom/group (people with the most links will be at the bottom) ;
uk youtubers
Alfie Buttle, Arthur Frederick, Harry Lewis
others
Aaron Taylor Johnson, Rodrick Heffley, Miguel O'hara
football
Jordan Henderson, Trent Alexander-Arnold, Virgil Van Dijk
marauders/ harry potter
Oliver Wood, Remus Lupin, James Potter
Tennis
Carlos Alcaraz
Formula 1
Arthur Leclerc, Kevin Magnussen, Lando Norris, Kimi Raikkonen, Jenson Button, Fernando Alonso, Valterri Bottas, Lance Stroll, Lewis Hamilton, Toto Wolff, Mick Schumacher, Max Verstappen, Pierre Gasly, Daniel Ricciardo, Carlos Sainz, Charles Leclerc.
other fic recommendation lists and masterlsists i use
credits to authors
if any links do not work or there are any issues please let me know!
all links attached are things i have read and enjoy reading, so the list will grow as i continue to engage but please don't ask me to add fics i havent read or people i dont read for
and once again thankyou so much to the authors, your work does not go unnoticed and i hope fellow readers using this list show those authors some love and engagement
hi everyone, here is around/almost 500 and counting fic recommendations of fics/blurbs/one shots that i've read over about 3 years, and have loved and enjoyed reading and wish to share to make it easier to find my liked fics.
because of the length i will have to make a few posts on this all linked as a repost but i will pin the last repost/full length version, so sorry apparently theres a length limit on posts so please check the pinned post on my page for the full thing x
they are mostly fluff and smut because i avoid angst as i'm not emotionally strong enough for it đ but there may be some.
all credits of course go to the writers who i appreciate for their work and dedication, and i'd like authors to know that i and many other readers greatly appreciate the effort and time you take to produce such good works.
this post includes and is displayed in the following order from the least to most amount of links per fandom/group (people with the most links will be at the bottom) ;
uk youtubers
Alfie Buttle, Arthur Frederick, Harry Lewis
others
Aaron Taylor Johnson, Rodrick Heffley, Miguel O'hara
football
Jordan Henderson, Trent Alexander-Arnold, Virgil Van Dijk
marauders/ harry potter
Oliver Wood, Remus Lupin, James Potter
Tennis
Carlos Alcaraz
Formula 1
Arthur Leclerc, Kevin Magnussen, Lando Norris, Kimi Raikkonen, Jenson Button, Fernando Alonso, Valterri Bottas, Lance Stroll, Lewis Hamilton, Toto Wolff, Mick Schumacher, Max Verstappen, Pierre Gasly, Daniel Ricciardo, Carlos Sainz, Charles Leclerc.
other fic recommendation lists and masterlsists i use
credits to authors
if any links do not work or there are any issues please let me know!
all links attached are things i have read and enjoy reading, so the list will grow as i continue to engage but please don't ask me to add fics i havent read or people i dont read for
and once again thankyou so much to the authors, your work does not go unnoticed and i hope fellow readers using this list show those authors some love and engagement
content: max knew he was your way to escape things. because you were his escape too. and meanwhile he escaped a different world. you fled the same way. you made him feel understood and cared for and he made you feel loved and less alone.
warnings: drugs, overdose, addiction, smoking, domestic violence, physical/emotional abuse, swearing, j0s verstappen, mention of suicide, escort, just some heavy stuff tbh, making out, implied bj (nothing explicit) mdni !! Â
this is 100% fiction. nothingâs real. masterlist
word count: 8.8k
authorâs note: oh my fucking god this took forever
but i absolutely LOVED writing this <3
as always note, that english is not my first language so there might be some grammatical errors. iâd love love love your feedback on this one so feel free to comment if you want to!!Â
to everyone reading: please take a moment, read the tags again and then decide if you want to read it or not. there are lots of triggering topics mentioned and/or explicably described. if you find yourself struggle with depression, addiction or anything else, always feel free to message me or send an ask my way. i will always listen to you. take care of yourself <3
