My parents have a “Festivus” party every year and this year I found this sign on their bedroom door
você e Enzo, fazia tempão que não escrevia sobre ele fazia tempo que não escrevia no geral hihihi
Daddy's Friend
Verão.
Férias.
Duas semanas.
Duas semanas numa casa de praia grande luxuosa lotada com os amigos do trabalho do "papai". Seria legal, sem contar os velhos com as piadinhas prontas e sem graça, praticamente caindo de bêbados.
Sem contar suas esposas tediosas e botoxadas.
Sem contar as crianças birrentas e mal-criadas que corriam pra lá e pra cá - uma delas inclusive, derrubou seu celular na piscina no primeiro dia, ou seja, só o teria de volta em duas semanas e olhe lá.
Sem contar que teria que dormir em um dos sofás grandes na sala de estar pois não havia mais quarto, nem cama, para você.
Mas não era de todo mal... pelo menos, havia Enzo Vogrincic.
Ele era o mais jovem da empresa e foi uma surpresa para você quando ele aceitou o convite de seu pai para participar da viagem. Você nem sabia que ele ia, afinal todo mundo já havia chegado entre o primeiro e segundo dia, mas ele não.
O moreno chegou no litoral no terceiro dia de manhã cedinho.
O som do motor da moto dele fez com que todo mundo fosse animado até a porta de entrada para recebê-lo. As crianças o rodeavam gritando, os homens levantavam suas cervejas em cumprimento e as mulheres ajeitavam os peitos siliconados nos biquínes com um sorriso indiscreto.
E sinceramente? Foda-se toda aquela palhaçada, pois antes de tirar o capacete preto num estilo bem hollywoodiano, ele caçava você com olhar, se perguntando porque você não estava no meio da maçaroca de gente ansiosa para vê-lo. E sabendo que você - e só você - era o verdadeiro motivo da vinda dele para aquela casa de praia.
Ele não é bobo, nem inocente.
Vogrincic sabia muito bem o que estava fazendo, ao se inclinar sobre você - que estava com as mãos ocupadas descascando batatas cozidas para a maionese do churrasco do almoço, de costas para a porta - e depositar um beijo em sua bochecha como cumprimento assim que chegou.
Vogrincic sabia muito bem o que estava fazendo quando estavam na praia naquela tarde, e ele comprou o conjunto de biquíne que você mais gostou do moço que passou com um carrinho vendendo itens superfaturados. Depois meteu um "vai ficar linda" ao te entregar a sacolinha.
Vogrincic sabia muito bem o que estava fazendo, quando disse para o seu pai que "Não se preocupe, senhor, juro que não tem problema dormir na sala também", pois não haviam mais quartos disponíveis. O sofá dele era em outra sala, apenas a alguns passos da sua e da cozinha.
...
- Acordada a essa hora? - Enzo perguntou invadindo a cozinha em conceito aberto.
Você tomou um susto e se virou para ele terminando de engolir a água geladinha que tomava.
- Que susto, porra!
Uma risadinha foi ouvida... e não foi dos seus lábios.
A porta da geladeira atrás de você ainda se mantinha aberta, sem que você se desse conta, o que deu a oportunidade para o moreno se aproximar com passos lentos e se posicionar bem a sua frente.
Seu coração acelerou em expectativa.
Ele estava tão perto, tão cheiroso, tão bonito, tão sombrio.
Seus olhos arregalados eram as jóias mais raras para ele.
- Licença?
- Ah, sim, claro! - respondeu saindo da frente da porta e dando espaço para que ele pegasse uma garrafinha de água também.
Você se encostou na ilha de mármore no meio da cozinha, e aproveitou para observar a cena cinematográfica em que o protagonista gostoso se delicia com uma bebida gelada em câmera lenta. Sorte sua que ele não viu sua boca levemente aberta e olhos gigantes carregados de tesão, pois se tivesse visto... quem sabe o que poderia acontecer naquela cozinha.
- Não sabia que você vinha - Enzo disse se aproximando ao mesmo tempo em que fechava a garrafinha. AH, MAS ELE SABIA SIM! Era algo que seu pai orgulhoso falava. A filhotinha perfeita dele voltou da cidade em que fazia faculdade para visitá-lo.
- Não sabia que você vinha. - respondeu virando de lado para encará-lo.
- E gostou quando descobriu? - disse baixinho, com a voz rouca e seduzente.
Você soltou um sorrisinho irônico e saiu da cozinha, sendo seguida pelo moreno.
Ele era mestre na arte do flerte.
Vocês dois sempre se cozinhavam nas festas da empresa em que iam. Conversavam um pouquinho, se olhavam demais da conta, mas não faziam nada. Ali era a chance, ali era o lugar.
- Como vai a faculdade? - insistiu em outro assunto, sentando ao seu lado no sofá grande (sua caminha pelos próximos dias) de frente para a sacada aberta e iluminada pela lua.
Você respondeu colocando as duas pernas sobre o estofado, ficando mais confortavel para olhar para ele.
- Hm. E aquele seu namoradinho?
- Qual?
- Seu pai que contou - o moreno mentiu, jogou um blefe para levar ao assunto que ele realmente queria.
- Papai mentiu então.
- Não está namorando?
- Não, Enzo. E você?
- Não namoro, gatinha.
Você revirou os olhos. Tinha que ser.
- É claro que não.
- Ei - ele ergueu os braços em sinal de rendição - Não me deixou terminar.
- Hm.
- Não namoro, gatinha, estou esperando a pessoa ideal - disse de uma forma engraçada que você não conseguiu evitar a gargalhada altíssima, tapando a boca logo em seguida para não fazer barulho. Acontece que ele fez exatamente a mesma coisa que você.
Numa velocidade assustadora, Vogrincic meteu a mão dele sobre a sua e estava com o corpo coladinho ao seu no sofá.
- Shhh, não quer que eles venham ver se ta tudo bem, não é? - sussurrou e porra, ficou molhada e arrepiada. Mal conseguiu responder, só fez um não com a cabeça. - O gato comeu a língua, foi?
Poderia ter sido ele o gato.
Você colocou sua mão delicadamente sobre a dele e a abaixou, sem quebrar contato visual.
A cena era mais que erótica.
Tirando a mão grande dele da sua boca... para por em seu peito.
- O quê é isso? - ele questionou baixinho e um tanto desacreditado, mas você não queria perder tempo e o beijou.
Entre os beijos intensos, mãos bobas e pausas para respirar, sentiu a boca dele erguer em um sorriso convencido... afinal, a mão que apalpava seu peito tinha deixado os mamilos excitados.
Só que ele não estava muito diferente... quando montou no colo do mais velho, sentiu o membro rijo e latejante, ansioso parar estar dentro de você. Aproveitou para rebolar para frente e para trás, a boca dele escapou para seu pescoço.
- Gostosa. - sussurrou.
As mãos dele em sua cintura, as suas percorriam o peitoral forte, subiam para o pescoço e brincavam com a parte de trás, onde o cabelo sedoso estava crescidinho.
E então as bocas estavam unidas novamente.
Não demorou muito para que o shortinho do seu pijama ficasse encharcado do seu tesão, afinal estava sendo movimentado para frente e para trás no volume dele. Era inconsiente. Só... precisava fazer aquilo. Se esfregar nele como uma...
- Putinha - ele sussurrou contra seus lábios. Você afastou sua boca da dele, deixando levemente aberta para soltar um gemido. - Gostou do que eu disse, é?
- Aham - gemeu manhosa - Quiero que me folles, por favor.
Enzo parou os movimentos, segurando bem forte em sua cintura e então no seu pescoço. O pau dele latejou ao ouvir sua vozinha implorando para ser fodida. O sorriso sacana que ele te deu em seguida foi impagável. Você desejou ter uma câmera ali e agora para capturar aquele segundo.
As bocas se conectaram novamente, só que dessa vez, mudaram de posição. Vogrincic estava sobre você e as veias nos braços ficaram proeminentes, pois ele não deixava o peso todo sobre seu corpo.
Da boca para o pescoço.
Do pescoço para os mamilos durinhos.
Dos mamilos durinhos para a barriga à mostra.
E da barriga, cheirou, beijou e lambeu por cima do shorts.
Você se contorcia querendo e precisando de mais.
Enzo tirou os shorts com as mãos e a calcinha com a boca. E então, chegou ao alvo principal. A língua quente e macia entrou em contato com sua entrada quente e molhada. O moreno deu um tapa no clitóris inchado, depois começou a chupar enquanto metia apenas um dedo.
Aí dois.
Você colocou a mão na boca para gemer e a outra segurava o cabelo dele.
O som das ondas era fraquinho, comparado à da sua bucetinha molhada. E ela parecia um banquete exclusivo dele. Enzo se esbaldava, levou uma mão ao pau. Tocava você, tocava ele. Até que você atingiu seu ápice e se derreteu na boca dele.
O gemido saiu alto demais, com tesão demais, depois que percebeu levou a mão aos lábios e arregalou os olhos. O moreno sorriu.
- Shhh, não grita, se não a casa toda vai saber a putinha louca por pica que você é. E eu não to afim de dividir essa bucetinha gostosa com mais ninguém. - depositando um tapinha no clitóris sensível.
Em poucos segundos algumas luzes acenderam no andar de cima, portas se abriram e passos foram ouvidos. As vozes sussurravam "O que aconteceu?" "O que houve?".
Você teve poucos segundos para raciocinar: colocou o shorts novamente e foi correndo para o seu sofá. Deitou. Se cobriu com um lençol levinho a medida que os passos se tornavam mais altos. Três? Quatro pessoas? Não saberia dizer.
Quando percebeu que haviam mais pessoas no cômodo gritou novamente, com mais medo do que dá primeira vez.
- Ela está tendo um pesadêlo! - disse seu pai com um toque de humor, ele estava aliviado que a filhotinha dele estava bem. O coro de vozes atrás dele suspirou aliviado, pelo menos não era um invasor.
Enzo riu.
- É... deve estar.
Vogrincic estava voltando para sua sala, os outros adultos subindo as escadas quando seu pai virou para trás e o chamou.
- Ahm... Enzo, se importa de dormir nesse outro sofá mais próximo dela? Achei que alguém tivesse invadido a casa, desse modo, ficaria mais seguro de deixar minha filhinha aqui embaixo.
- Sem problemas, Sr. S/S. - com um sorriso malicioso que não pode ser avistado na penumbra do corredor.
summary: yn has always been known as 'the honorary wag', since she's kika's best friend and adored by all the other wags, but what happens when the girls want her to become an official wag? a bet to get her and charles together before kika and pierre's wedding sounds like a plan.
word count: 6.9k + social media posts
folkie radio: i saw that video of alex and charles dancing at a wedding and i felt like i NEEDED to write something that involved charles and weddings, this was the result ! i really hope you like it (if you do please leave a reblog)
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
liked by charles_leclerc, yourinstagram and 2,037,465 others
pierregasly Last night I proposed to the love of my life and she said yes. @/francisca.cgomes I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, I love you ❤️
view all 54,268 comments
username1 OMFG
username2 NO WAAAAYYYYYYY
lilymhe CRYING RIGHT NOW 😭😭🥺💗
↳ username1 AHHH THE WAGS NEED TO BE BRIDESMAIDS
alex_albon Amazing news ❤️ ♥︎ by author
charles_leclerc Wow I can’t believe my childhood best friend is getting married, you both deserve all the happiness in the world and I’m so happy for you ❤️ ♥︎ by author
↳ username2 CRYING AGAIN
↳ username3 he needs to be the best man idc
username3 this wedding is going to be out of this world
francisca.cgomes IM STILL OVER THE MOON. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ♥︎ by author
↳ username5 KIKA IS GOING TO BE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BRIDE EVER
landonorris YOO I CANT WAIT FOR THIS PARTY ♥︎ by author, francisca.cgomes, yourinstagram, lewishamilton, iamrebeccad, oscarpiastri
↳ username1 LANDOOOO PLEASE
↳ username2 and i can’t wait to see him absolutely wasted
yourinstagram MY BEST FRIEND IS GETTING MARRIED 🥹🥹🥹🥹 IM CRYING AGAIN ♥︎ by author, francisca.cgomes
↳ username3 yn and kika are the it girls
↳ username4 she’s probably going to be the maid of honor im crying over people who don’t know me
liked by francisca.cgomes, lilyzneimer and 65,826 others
yourinstagram MY BEST FRIEND IN THE ENTIRE WORLD IS GETTING MARRIED 🥺 im so happy for you both @/francisca.cgomes @/pierregasly (even if that means that you finally stole her from me) let the wedding planning begin 🕺
view all 3,237 comments
username1 congrats kika and pierre !!
username2 it girls ❤️🔥
carmenmmundt This wedding will be the best thing ever ♥︎ by author, francisca.cgomes, lilyzneimer, lilymhe, iamrebeccad
↳ lilymhe I KNOW
↳ username3 i love that yn is not a wag but she’s loved among the wags anyway
username4 oh to be a guest at this wedding
landonorris Can I be a bridesmaid too?
↳ pierregasly No
↳ francisca.cgomes No
↳ username1 HEEEELP poor little lando norris 😭
francisca.cgomes I LOVE YOU SO MUCH SISSY 🥺 you’ll always be my wifey even if i’m married to someone else ♥︎ by author
↳ pierregasly That hurt
↳ yourinstagram OOPS
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gasly - gomes wedding 💍💍 groupchat
the bridesmaids 👯♀️ groupchat
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liked by username1, username2 and 54,837 others
womenofthepaddock Kika Gomes (soon to be Mrs. Gasly), Carmen Montero (Spain’s national treasure) and YN (the honorary WAG) have arrived to the Paddock #SpainGP
view all 5,048 comments
username1 SLAYYY
username2 they’re all so stunning omg
username3 oh to be one of them
username4 i love how yn is really the honorary wag
↳ username1 she should just date someone from the grid atp ♥︎ by lilyzneimer, carmenmmundt, francisca.cgomes, lilymhe, iamrebeccad
↳ username2 ALL THE WAGS LIKING THIS COMMENT 😭
username5 i NEED yn’s outfit
username6 get yourself a bestfriend like kika gomes who takes you to formula one races
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📍BARCELONA, SPAIN.
Every time you agreed to join Kika for her boyfriend's (and now, fiancé) races, the same question came to your mind: "Why is the paddock so confusing?"
You were currently trying to make your way back to Alpine hospitality, where you're supposed to watch the race from, but you kept getting lost. The maze of motorhomes, garages, and bustling activity was overwhelming. The constant hum of mechanics working, team members rushing around, and fans hoping for a glimpse of their favorite driver made it all more chaotic.
"YN, hey!" you heard a voice call out for you, turning around, you saw Rebecca and Carlos walking your way.
"Hey guys," you greeted them with a small hug once they approached you.
"Got lost again?" Carlos asked, and you remembered the time he found you in the same situation a couple of years ago.
"Yeah, this place is like a labyrinth. I have no idea how you guys navigate it so easily."
"Years of practice," Carlos chuckled, "Come on, We'll walk you to Alpine. It's not too far from here."
"Wait," Rebecca said before you could even start walking, "Why don't you come to Ferrari with us a bit, I'm sure Kika and Pierre won't mind."
Your eyebrows immediately raised at Rebecca's suggestion, noticing the teasing smirk on her face. She wanted to carry on with her (and the girl's) plan of making you like Charles.
Charles Leclerc, loved by millions, but you weren't quite one of them.
It's not that you actively disliked him, but there was something about him that didn't sit right with you.
Maybe it was the fact that every single time you've interacted with him ever since you started joining Kika for F1 stuff, he was somehow rude to you.
The last thing you wanted was to have an awkward interaction with him at the Ferrari garage, but you knew Rebecca wouldn't let you go that easily.
"Okay, fine," you sighed, "I'll come with you guys.
"Great! Let's go then." Rebecca's face lit up with a smile.
The three of you walked towards the Ferrari garage, the race wasn't starting for another few hours so you knew you were inevitably running into Charles once you got there.
"This is the perfect opportunity to clear the air between you and Charles," Rebecca elbowed you, almost making you roll your eyes, "Who knows? Maybe you have more in common that you realize."
"You and Charles don't like each other?" Carlos asked you, reaching out to hold his girlfriend's hand.
"Stop, It's not like that," you said, almost throwing your head back in frustration, "Every time we've interacted, he's been... dismissive. Rude, even. I don't know if it's just me or if he's like that with everyone."
"Charles can be a bit intense sometimes, especially on race weekends," Carlos pointed out, "But he's a good guy. Maybe you two just got off on the wrong foot."
"Maybe," you muttered, not entirely convinced.
You eventually reached the Ferrari garage, Rebecca and Carlos led the way, weaving through the throngs of people with ease. You tried to keep up, feeling a bit like a fish out of water in the sea of red uniforms.
You spotted Charles almost immediately, deep in conversation with one of his engineers and not even noticing that the three of you entered the room.
"Charles, hey!" Rebecca called out for him, you really admired her determination on the matter.
"Hey guys," Charles approached you, and you couldn't help but get a good look at him.
He might not be your favorite on the grid, but you couldn't deny that he was really handsome.
"You remember YN, right?" Rebecca asked with a hint of mischief in her eyes.
"Of course," Charles replied, a small smirk playing on his lips, "You're going to be Kika's maid of honor, right?"
"That's right," you nodded, a bit surprised he remembered.
Rebecca and Carlos exchanged a knowing glance before Carlos spoke up, "We need to go check on something. You two, catch up."
You shot them a look of disbelief, but they were already walking away, leaving you and Charles alone.
"So, what have you been up to?" Charles asked, leaning casually against the wall. "It's been a while since I've seen you around."
"Yeah, I haven't really been able to come to any races, I'm moving to Monaco, so that has been keeping me busy," you said, trying to keep the conversation light.
"Really? Which area?" he asked, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice.
You told him the name of the neighborhood, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. "No way. I live there too. Are you the one who's been making all those moving noises two houses away from mine?"
"I fear that would be me," you laughed, feeling some of the awkwardness melt away, "I didn't know you lived there."
"Small world, huh?" he chuckled, and for the first time, you saw a glimpse of the Charles that everyone else seemed to adore.
"Yeah, it is," you agreed, still a bit cautious but warming up to him. "Guess we'll be seeing more of each other."
"Looks like it," he said with a smile, "I mean, at least you'll have someone you can ask for a cup of milk when you run out."
As you continued to chat with Charles, you found yourself genuinely enjoying the conversation. It was a stark contrast to your previous encounters with him, and it made you question your initial judgment. His smile was warm, his laugh infectious, and the more you talked, the more you realized how much you had in common.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Rebecca and Carlos across the garage, watching the two of you with satisfied smiles and you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at them. You were already expecting the girls groupchat to explode with messages about you and Charles.
"Looks like your plan is working," Carlos said to Rebecca, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
"Told you it would," Rebecca grinned, "The rest of the girls and I even made a bet."
"A bet?" Carlos raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Yep," Rebecca confirmed, a playful glint in her eyes. "We bet on getting them together before Pierre and Kika's wedding. We all agree they'd make a great match."
"You and your schemes, amor," Carlos chuckled, shaking his head, "But I have to admit, you might be onto something."
Rebecca leaned her head on Carlos's shoulder, watching you and Charles laugh together. "Trust me, Carlos. Sometimes people just need a little nudge in the right direction."
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INSTAGTAM
liked by francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc and 70,002 others
yourinstagram back on the f1 gig and reunited with my girls 🤍 the last slide shows how much the soon to be married couple loves each other
tagged: francisca.cgomes, pierregasly, lilyzneimer, lilymhe, carmenmmundt and iamrebeccad
view all 3,987 comments
username1 SLAYYY
username2 the honorary WAG for real
carmenmmundt I missed you so much 🫶 ♥︎ by author
↳ yourinstagram same here 🥲
f1gossip We love the WAGS (and yn) being besties
↳ username1 they need a masterplan to make yn a wag ♥︎ by iamrebeccad, lilyzneimer, francisca.cgomes
pierregasly My fiancée loves me 🥰
↳ francisca.cgomes more like tolerates
↳ yourinstagram she’ll always love me more
lilymhe bridesmaids gang 👯♀️ ♥︎ by author
↳ landonorris Am I still not allowed in the gc?
↳ francisca.cgomes exactly
↳ username2 HEEEEEELP
charles_leclerc Lovely to catch up. See you around in Monaco 😉 ♥︎ by author
↳ yourinstagram likewise 😊
↳ username1 HELLOOOO???
↳ username2 SOMEONE DECODE THIS
↳ username3 i think this is the first time i see charles and yn interact 😭😭
iamrebeccad My job here is done
↳ carlossainz55 😂😂😂
↳ yourinstagram never trust the sainz-donaldson couple…
↳ username1 WHATS GOING ON HERE
↳ username2 lord i’m so nosy i need to be part of their friendgroup
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📍MONTE CARLO, MONACO
Living alone it's all fun and games until you get locked out of your house after a quick run to the store for some late night snacks.
You stood there, staring at your sophisticated security system installed in all the houses in your upscale Monaco neighborhood —one that was definitely too expensive for you, but you were grateful the company you worked for paid for your rent — feeling utterly defeated.
The high-tech lock had its advantages, but it also meant that once you were locked out, getting back in without a key was next to impossible.
Sighing, you pulled out your phone and texted Kika, hoping she might be able to help.
You frowned at the suggestion. Asking Charles for help wasn’t your first choice, especially given your rocky interactions in the past. And yes, maybe you had a great conversation in Barcelona but that didn't mean that he suddenly liked you and would be willing to help you.
What if he's busy? Or thinks you're stupid for locking yourself out of your own house? What if this is all part of the girl's plan of setting you up with a driver?
Were some thoughts that ran through your head as you stood in your porch. But with no other options, you pushed them away and sent him a message.
You sighed, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. Asking Charles, someone who you disliked from time to time and thought he hated you just a few weeks ago for help wasn't on your bingo card, but there you were waiting for him to show up.
True to his word, Charles arrived shortly, wearing a casual outfit that made him look really comfy, and you prayed that you didn't disturb him too much with your antics.
"Locked out, huh?" he said with a grin.
"Yeah, stupid me forgot the keys inside," you replied, feeling a bit embarrassed.
"No worries, happens to the best of us," he said, pulling out a set of keys from his pocket. "I actually learned a trick for these locks. All the houses here have the same system, and I’ve had my fair share of lockouts."
You watched as he worked with the keys and the lock, not sure of what he was doing but trusting his word that he knew how to unlock it. After what it seemed like a minute, your door unlocked with ease.
"Thank you so much, Charles. You saved me," you said, letting out a sigh of relief, "And I'm really sorry that I bothered you, you must've been busy or just resting and I made you get out of the house."
"Hey, It's okay," he said, flashing you a warm smile, "Told you could shout if you needed a spare cup of milk, or in this case, a way into your house."
"Thank you a lot, really."
You smiled softly as you both stood on your porch, and he mirrored your gesture. You looked at his features for a moment, his eyes were soft and a beautiful shade of green and blue, he looked extremely cozy clad in his hoodie and joggers.
Ugh why are you even thinking about Charles Leclerc like that? The voice inside your head came out again. And you didn't have an answer for it, but you pushed the thought away and focused on the present moment.
"So, how's the unpacking going?" Charles said after a minute of silence.
"It's getting there. Still a lot to do," you shrugged.
"Well, if you need any help, just let me know," he offered. "I'm pretty handy with setting up furniture and stuff."
"I might take you up on that," you said, and you fell into silence again.
And that's when you realized that for some reason, you didn't want the interaction to end, and something about the way he looked at you made you feel like he didn't want it either.
"How about you come in for a cup of tea?" you suggested without even taking a spare second to think about it, "As a thank you for helping me out, I mean."
He looked pleasantly surprised. "I'd really like that. Thanks."
You led him inside, quickly tidying up a few stray boxes before boiling water for tea. Once it was ready, you both sat down with steaming cups of tea, and you started talking about the topic that was inevitable among the grid and friends: Pierre and Kika's upcoming wedding.
"Can you believe they're getting married?" you asked, stirring your tea.
"I know, right?" Charles replied with a chuckle. "Pierre's been so excited. He talks about it all the time."
"They're such a great couple," you said, smiling. "Kika has been my best friend for years. I couldn't be happier for her."
"Yeah, Pierre is like a brother to me," Charles added, his expression softening. "He deserves all the happiness in the world."
You took a sip of your tea, feeling the warmth spread through you, "They deserve each other."
"By the way," Charles said, setting down his cup, "have you thought about what you’re going to wear?"
"I’ve been stressing over it," you laughed, "I want to find something perfect, and I feel like I'm running out of time."
"I’m sure whatever you choose will be great," he said reassuringly. "You have good taste."
"Thanks," you said, feeling a bit flustered by the compliment. "What about you? Got your outfit ready?"
"Not at all," he replied with a grin. "You know, since you're the maid of honor and I'm the best man, we should coordinate our outfits," he suggested with a playful smile. "Imagine how great we'll look standing next to Pierre and Kika if we match."
You laughed at the idea. "Maybe we should. It would make for some great photos."
"I can already see it now," Charles chuckled, "The perfect duo."
The conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying Charles's company. He was funny, engaging, and far from the dismissive person you initially thought he was. You talked about everything from the wedding to your favorite places in Monaco, your work, his feelings about the F1 season so far and you couldn't help but think about how much the girls would freak out if they saw you talking and engaging the way you were.
Maybe they were right about you and Charles getting along well, but they're wrong about you possibly dating him, because you weren't looking for that, you thought to yourself again.
As the night drew to a close, Charles stood up to leave. "Thanks for the tea and the company, YN. I’m surprised we never got to talk like this before."
"Me too," you admitted, feeling a pang of guilt for your previous judgments about him. "I'm glad we did, though. And thank you again for helping me tonight, you were kind of my savior."
"Stop thanking me, you already did it like ten times," he said as you both walked to the door. "Are you going to the race in Austria this weekend?"
"I wasn’t planning on it," you said, "Kika's not going, and I usually go with her."
"Well, you could be my guest this time," he offered, a hopeful look in his eyes. "It could be fun."
You blinked, taken aback by his offer. "Are you serious?" you asked, needing to be sure you heard him right.
"Absolutely," Charles said, his tone sincere, "I know you're good friends with the girls and you love hanging out with them. It would be fun, and I'd love to have you there."
Your mind raced. When you left your house a few hours ago you never expected to get locked out which would lead to end your night with an invitation from Charles Leclerc to the Austrian Grand Prix, offering you a chance to spend time together at a race.
The wheels in your brain turned, making you unsure of your answer, when deep down you knew you wanted to take on his offer and go to Austria. You loved attending races and being around everyone in the F1 world, at first it was just something you did with Kika because of her boyfriend, but now it was something you enjoyed a lot.
Plus, you had to admit, the idea of spending more time with Charles was becoming increasingly appealing.
On the other hand, you couldn't shake the nagging doubt in the back of your mind. Was this just Charles being nice? Or what if the girls had put him up to this in another attempt to set you two up? You didn't want to complicate things somehow, especially with Pierre and Kika's wedding on the horizon.
Realizing you had been silent for a moment too long, you looked at Charles, your expression a mix of surprise and hesitation, and maybe you were crazy, but something in his face told you that he wanted you to say yes.
"That sounds amazing, Charles," you said, a small smile playing on your lips, "But… can I think about it? It sounds fun but I want to make sure I can make it work with my schedule."
"Of course," he replied with a nod, not pushing you for an immediate answer, "Just let me know soon so I can make the arrangements if you decide to come. I'd really like to have you there."
"Thanks, Charles," you said, feeling a warmth in your chest at his genuine interest. "I'll let you know soon."
"Great," he said, giving you a smile that made your heart flutter a little. "Goodnight, YN."
"Goodnight, Charles," you replied, watching as he walked away.
As you closed the door, you had one thought running through your head: the bridesmaids groupchat is about to go crazy
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the bridesmaids 👯♀️ groupchat
charles and yn texts
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📍SPIELBERG, AUSTRIA
The Austrian GP weekend had been eventful so far to say the least. When you arrived on friday, you expected to catch an Uber to your hotel, or for someone sent by Charles to pick you up.
But turns out, Charles himself was standing there as you walked through the gates, waiting for you with a warm smile.
None of the girls ended up attending the GP, so you spent most of your time with Charles. It felt strange at first, since you had never spent much time interacting with him before, but you'd be lying if you said that you didn't enjoy it.
Despite the friendly atmosphere off the track, it was a tough weekend for Charles competitively. His car had plenty of complications, from engine issues to problematic tires, which led him to a bad result on Sunday.
With that excuse, you suggested buying him dinner. You thought it would be a good way to cheer him up and to thank him for the weekend. It was friendly and casual.
You decided to have room service in his hotel room, neither of you in the mood to go outside, so you ordered a couple of pizzas, a bottle of wine and desert.
As the room service cart rolled in, you both laughed at how much food you had ordered. "I think our eyes were bigger than our stomachs," Charles said, eyeing the spread.
"Well, we have all night to work through it," you replied with a grin.
You both settled on the couch, the boxes of pizza open in front of you and glasses of wine in hand. If someone had told you a few months ago that you would be in this context with Charles Leclerc you'd laughed at them.
You knew the girls would have a field day when they found out.
"I'm really glad you came this weekend," Charles said after chewing on his slice of pizza, "It's been nice having you around."
"I'm glad I came too," you said, smiling back. "I didn't realize how much fun it would be. I always come to the races with Kika so this was different. Thank you again for asking me."
"I have to admit, I was a bit nervous about asking you," Charles took a sip of his wine, "I wasn't sure if you'd want to spend time with me."
You almost tensed at his words. All this time, you had assumed he disliked you because he had been rude or dismissive in your past interactions. But maybe it had all been a misunderstanding, like Kika had told you multiple times.
Damn you hated when she was right.
"Why wouldn't I?" you partially knew the answer, but you still wanted to hear what he had to say.
"I don't know. I guess I always thought you didn't like me much," he shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed.
"I thought the same thing about you," you laughed softly, "I figured you were being rude because you didn't like me."
"I never meant to be rude to you, at least not intentionally," Charles shook his head, "I'm really sorry if I ever was."
You looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. "It's okay, Charles. I guess we both just misunderstood each other."
"I'm glad we cleared that up," Charles gave a relieved smile, "It feels good to finally talk about it. Honestly, with the wedding coming up and the roles we're playing in it, I was nervous about the entire thing being awkward."
"We're good now," you said, feeling a genuine warmth spread through you. "And now I can join you in suit shopping without it being awkward."
Charles laughed, a sound that was starting to become one of your favorites. "Oh yeah, we still have to do that. We're definitely matching."
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INSTAGTAM
liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.gomes and 102,268 others
yourinstagram lots of red and lots of room service ❤️
tagged: charles_leclerc
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username1 SLAYYYY
username2 CHARLES AND YN???
lilymhe The one time we all decide to skip the GP… ♥︎ by francisca.cgomes, carmenmmundt
↳ lilyzneimer literally
↳ iamrebeccad 😭
↳ username1 WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT LET ME INNNNNNNNNN
pierregasly I guess you don’t need me for paddock passes anymore ♥︎ by author
↳ yourinstagram i’ve never needed you that was always kika
username3 wait are her and charles together ??
↳ username4 they could be friends chill
username5 yn finally becoming a wag??? the masterplan worked ♥︎ by iamrebeccad, lilyzneimer, francisca.cgomes, lilymhe
↳ username1 ALL OF THE WAGS HERE AGAIN 😭
charles_leclerc Always a pleasure 🤍 ♥︎ by author
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gasly - gomes wedding 💍💍 groupchat
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📍MONTE CARLO, MONACO
"Charles you literally just passed me."
"Did I? Oh, I see you now," Charles said as he spotted you walking towards his car, hanging up the phone and parking so you could get in.
You got into the passenger seat, clicking your seat belt and dropping your hands to your lap, "Hello there."
"Hi love," Charles leaned in to peck your cheek, "How was work?"
This was routine by now. After your time alone in Austria, you and Charles couldn't stop hanging out. He picked you up from work, you cooked dinner for both of you, you had sitcom marathons together and so on.
It felt nice.
"It was meh," you shrugged, "My day is about to get interesting, though, isn't it?"
"If you find looking at ties and shirts for hours any amusing, then yes it is."
Today was the day you and Charles had been talking about for so long, you'd get his outfit for the Gasly-Gomes wedding.
You got your dress already, it was a beautiful satin green dress you absolutely loved. Since Charles was away racing when you bought it, you showed it to him through FaceTime and he insisted he needed to get the perfect suit to match it.
"It's going to be fun," you poked his side as he drove, "But we do need to find the perfect fit, Kika is going to kill us if we ruin her pictures."
"I mean you're going to look stunning so I just need to stand next to you and hope it rubs on me," he shrugged, and you felt your cheeks burn.
Charles made a habit out of complimenting you at this point, and even though you didn't want to think too much about it, you found yourself melting every single time.
"Feeding my ego again, Leclerc?" you teased.
"Just stating the obvious."
You engaged in small conversation as he drove to the boutique you've previously picked as your first option. One of the things about your unexpected friendship with Charles that you loved the most was how easy it is to talk to him about anything. It was easy, comfortable, and it made you realize just how much you enjoyed his company.
When you arrived at the boutique, Charles opened the door for you, a small gesture that always made you smile.
Inside, the boutique was filled with racks of elegant suits and dresses. A sales assistant approached you, and you explained what you were looking for. She guided you to a section with suits that could match what you needed.
Charles began browsing through the racks, holding up different jackets and shirts for you to see. After some deliberation, Charles found a suit that caught his eye.
"Try it on," you urged him, eyes sparkling with excitement.
Charles disappeared into the fitting room, and you waited eagerly. When he emerged, your breath caught in your throat. The suit fit him perfectly, making him look even more handsome than usual.
Since when were you this down for this man?
"What do you think?" he asked, turning to look at himself in the mirror.
"It's perfect," you said, "You look amazing, Charles."
He grinned, clearly pleased with your approval, "You think I look amazing, huh?"
"Don't let it go to your head, Leclerc," you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to hide your smile.
With the suit sorted, you moved on to finding the perfect tie. After a bit of searching, you found one that matched your dress perfectly. You held it up for Charles to see, and he nodded in approval.
"Looks great. Now, help me put it on?" he asked, a hint of playfulness in his eyes.
"Sure," you said, stepping closer to him.
As you worked on his tie, you realized just how close you were standing. Your hands moved deftly, but your heart raced with the proximity. You could feel Charles's breath on your face, and you couldn't help but glance at his lips every now and then. His eyes were fixed on you, a soft intensity in them that made your knees feel weak.
"There," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, "all done."
But neither of you moved. Your faces were inches apart, and the air between you seemed to crackle with electricity. You noticed Charles glancing at your lips, and you wondered if he could hear your heart pounding in your chest.
"Shame on Kika and Pierre," Charles said softly, a smile tugging at his lips. "We'll definitely be the best-looking pair at the wedding."
You laughed lightly, the tension easing just a bit. "Absolutely. They'll have to step up their game."
Charles's hand came up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was so tender it made your heart flutter even more. "Thanks for helping me with this," he said, his voice sincere.
"Anytime," you replied, your voice equally soft.
You lingered a moment longer. It was just you and Charles, standing so close, sharing a moment that felt incredibly intimate. Eventually, you both stepped back, a silent understanding passing between you.
You really wanted him to kiss you
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liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 107,635 others
yourinstagram two weeks away from the gasly-gomes wedding: the happy couple, suit picking, speech writing and last girls trip as single ladies 🥲
tagged: fracisca.cgomes, pierregasly, charles_leclerc, lilymhe, lilyzneimer, carmenmmundt
view all 4,103 comments
username1 THE WEDDING IS SO SOOOOON
username2 BOYFRIEND CHARLES CONTENT JUST DROPPED
↳ username1 omfg are they together ???
iamrebeccad 🤍🤍🤍🤍
lilymhe “last girls trip as single ladies” and you’re the only one who’s actually single (not for long tho) ♥︎ by francisca.cgomes, lilyzneimer, carmenmmundt, iamrebeccad
↳ username1 LILY😭
↳ yourinstagram 🙄🙄🙄🙄
username3 we love the honorary wag
username4 charles in a suit i’m going insane
landonorris Can’t wait for the most alcoholic weekend of the year ♥︎ by danielricciardo, carlossainz55, lancestroll
↳ pierregasly I’m terrified already
charles_leclerc Best man and maid of honor, match made in heaven ♥︎ by author
↳ username1 CHARLESSSSS
↳ francisca.cgomes you’re welcome
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the bridesmaids 👯♀️ groupchat
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📍PORTOFINO, ITALY
The most awaited weekend of the year was finally here, the Gasly-Gomes wedding bound was in full swing. Guests arrived to Portofino from all over, their excitement palpable as they gathered to celebrate the love between Pierre and Kika.
Despite Charles' attempts to convince you to fly with him, you were firm on your decision of flying with Kika, you knew how nervous she felt and you wanted to be by your best friend's side for the most important moment of her life.
However, you were attending the rehearsal dinner together. Which had caused a commotion with the girls earlier in the week.
Their so called plan of getting me a boyfriend from the grid won't work, you thought to yourself, I'm not even looking for a boyfriend, Charles is my friend.
The rehearsal dinner was set in a beautiful, intimate restaurant overlooking the sea, and you were waiting for Charles at the hotel's reception to leave together. You smoothed out your dress, glancing at the grand clock on the wall, you felt a bit nervous, which only made you think about Kika and the fact that she was probably a million times more anxious.
"Hey there," Charles's voice broke through your thoughts. You turned to see him approaching, looking effortlessly handsome in a tailored suit, "Mon Dieu, you look insanely gorgeous."
You felt your cheeks warm at his words. "Thank you, Charles. You clean up pretty well yourself."
He grinned, offering his arm. "Shall we?"
You linked your arm with his, and together you made your way to the car waiting outside. The drive to the restaurant was filled with light conversation and laughter. Charles had a way of making you feel at ease, and tonight was no different.
As you arrived at the venue, the soft glow of candles and string lights illuminated the setup. Tables were adorned with flowers, and the sound of the waves provided a soothing backdrop. You could see Pierre and Kika at the entrance, greeting guests with radiant smiles.
You were really happy for them.
"Let's go say hi," Charles suggested, leading you towards the happy couple.
"You both look amazing!" Kika exclaimed once you approached them, hugging you tightly. "Thank you for being here."
Pierre soon joined, greeting both you and Charles with a warm smile. "Thanks for keeping her sane on the flight here," he joked, giving Kika a playful nudge.
"It's the least I can do, you already stole her from me ," you said with a grin.
"I promise to share her from time to time." Pierre joked, making all of you laugh.
The four of you exchanged a few more words before making your way into the venue. The atmosphere inside was magical, the soft hum of conversation and laughter filled the air.
You really could feel the love and excitement radiating from everyone present.
You made your way towards the table, noticing Lando by the bar already. You couldn't help but giggle, he was dead serious about going all out with the alcohol this weekend.
You settled into your seats, Charles opening your chair for you before sitting down. You were at a big table where most drivers and their partners were already settled, Carmen and George next to you and Max and Kelly on Charles' side.
Damn, you were really the honorary WAG
"What?" you said, noticing Carmen's teasing smile as she glanced at you and Charles.
"Oh nothing," she shrugged, "You guys look really cute together."
You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. "Thanks, Carmen," you replied, trying to brush off her comment. "We're here as friends."
"Sure, sure," Carmen said with a wink, and you couldn't help but chuckle at her persistence.
The evening flowed smoothly, the conversations lively and the laughter contagious. As you sipped on your champagne, you couldn't help but steal glances at Charles. He seemed so at ease, laughing and joking with the others, his eyes occasionally meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart flutter.
Dinner was served, a spread of Italian cuisine that had everyone praising the chefs. You and Charles shared bites of each other's dishes, a habit that had become second nature.
After dinner, it was time for the speeches. Since you were best man and maid of honor, you came up with the idea of surprising Kika and Pierre with heartfelt messages, which lead you to nights of takeout at his place to help each other write your speeches.
Charles was the first to stand, his presence commanding attention as he held up his glass.
"Bonsoir, everyone," he began, his voice clear and confident, "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Charles,"
"No one knows you! You're not world champion," Max yelled from his place, making everyone laugh.
"Somebody's jealous because he's not best man, I see," Charles teased, causing laughter again, "Anyway, I have known Pierre for many years now, and I can honestly say he is one of the best friends I could ever ask for. And Kika, you have brought out the best in him. Your love story is truly inspiring, and I am so honored to stand here today as your best man."
His words were heartfelt and genuine, and you could see Pierre and Kika's eyes shining with emotion. Charles continued with anecdotes about him and Pierre's karting days and well-wishes, his speech met with applause and cheers by the end.
It was your turn now, you were nervous but Charles sent a wink your way as he passed you the microphone that made you relax.
"Kika and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember," you began, your voice steady. "We have shared so many incredible moments together, and seeing her find someone who makes her so happy is truly a blessing. Pierre, you have brought so much joy into her life, and I am beyond thrilled to see you both start this new chapter together."
Your speech was filled with love and appreciation, and by the time you finished, there were a few more teary eyes around the room. Kika hugged you tightly, whispering her thanks in your ear.
After the speeches, the lights dimmed, and music began to play. Everyone gathered around the dance floor, and Charles turned to you with a mischievous smile. "Care to dance?"
"Sure," you replied, taking his hand as he led you to the center of the dance floor. The music was slow, and Charles pulled you close, his hand resting on the small of your back.
You danced together, your bodies moving in sync. You felt his breath on your cheek, and the warmth of his touch sent shivers down your spine. You looked up at him, your faces inches apart, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world disappeared.
From across the room, Lily and Rebecca watched with satisfied smiles. Alex joined them, raising an eyebrow. "So, you think your plan worked?" he asked, amusement in his voice.
"Definitely," Lily said, her eyes twinkling. "Look at them. They're practically made for each other."
Rebecca nodded in agreement. "We've been planning this for months, and it looks like it's finally happening."
"Well, I have to admit, you girls make a pretty good matchmaking team," Alex chuckled, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend.
"We just knew they needed a little push," Lily grinned, "And now, look at them. They can't take their eyes off each other."
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liked by iamrebeccad, charles_leclerc and 254,378 others
yourinstagram MY BEST FRIEND JUST GOT MARRIED 🥲🥲🥲 brb i’ll be dancing and weeping all night
tagged: pierregasly, francisca.cgomes
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username1 OMFG KIKA LOOKS STUNNING
username2 AHHHH THIS CONTENT
lilymhe same over here 😩😩 ♥︎ by author
username3 god i’d give up my first born yo be at that wedding right now
yukitsunoda0511 yukierre is for life ♥︎ by author
↳ yourinstagram so is kikayn
↳ username1 I LOVE THEM 😭😭
↳ username2 ooohhh yuki and yn should get together so she’s finally an official wag
↳ username3 NOOO WE NEED CHARLESYN
francisca.cgomes I LOVE YOU JUST GRABBED MY PHONE TO COMMENT ON THIS ❤️❤️ now back to my wedding lol ♥︎ by author
↳ username1 she’s too iconic
liked by username1, username2 and 25,926 others
f1gossip Charles Leclerc getting cozy with one of the bridesmaids at the Gasly-Gomes wedding 😳
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username1 OMFG
username2 LOOORD
username3 ISNT THAT YN 😭😭
↳ username1 YEAH
username4 oh god lando really exposed them, someone take his phone from him
username5 WHAT DOES THIS MEANNNN
username6 oh to be at that wedding right now
username7 YN HONORARY WAG IS NO MORE ITS TIME FOR YN REAL WAG ERA
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📍PORTOFINO, ITALY
Kika Gomes and Pierre Gasly were finally married.
The ceremony was held at a charming seaside chapel, adorned with white flowers and delicate ribbons. Guests filled the pews, their faces reflecting the joy and love of the occasion.
You stood beside Kika as her maid of honor, heart swelling with pride and happiness as she exchanged vows with Pierre. Charles, standing beside Pierre as the best man, caught your eye several times, his gaze warm and reassuring. The ceremony was beautiful, filled with heartfelt words, laughter, and a few tears of joy.
Charles made sure to compliment you from the moment he first saw you, and everyone was gushing over the two of you being color coordinated, just like you thought they would be.
After the vows were exchanged and the couple was pronounced husband and wife, it was time for the reception, or as Lando Norris would like to call it, the time to get absolutely wasted.
The party was held at a stunning villa overlooking the sea. The evening was filled with delicious food, heartfelt toasts, and lively dancing.
Just like the rehearsal dinner two days earlier, you and Charles were together all the time. Sitting beside each other at the table, Charles grabbing the train of your dress for you when you needed it, keeping at least a hand on each other all the time. You knew that wasn't "we're just friends" behavior, but you were too happy to mind.
As the night progressed, the drinks kept flowing, and everyone was in high spirits. Lando, true to his word, was leading the charge in getting everyone to the dance floor. You and Charles danced together, his hands on your shoulders as you swayed to the music, his breath on your neck as he whispered to your ear.
You knew some prying eyes were on both of you — and by that, you mean Rebecca, Lily and their respective boyfriends—, but once again, you were too happy and tipsy to mind.
After hours of dancing and celebrating, you finally took a break and sat down with your friends at one of the tables near the dance floor.
“You two were adorable on the dance floor,” Lily teased, giving you a playful nudge.
“Oh, stop,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm. “We’re just having fun.”
“Yeah, right. Just friends, huh?” Rebecca smirked.
Before you could respond, Charles appeared at the edge of the table, looking as handsome as ever, his suit jacket long forgotten and a few buttons of his shirt undone.
You were really down bad for him.
“Mind if I steal YN for a bit?” he asked, his eyes twinkling from the alcohol.
"Let the girl breathe mate! She's probably tired of you," Carlos teased, earning a round of laughter from the table.
You rolled your eyes playfully. "I think I can manage a bit more of Charles," you said, standing up and taking his offered hand.
"Of course you can," Rebecca said with a smirk. "Go meet your boyfriend."
You rolled your eyes again, but couldn’t suppress the smile spreading across your face. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you protested weakly, standing up from the table.
“Not yet, anyway.” Lily laughed.
You ignored her comment, though your heart did skip a beat. You don't know if Charles had heard any of it, but you let him lead you out to the terrace, your hand wrapped around his. From the corner of you eye, you saw Kika looking at you, nudging her husband and pointing at you both, teasing smiles on their faces.
They just got married so you'll let it slide.
“Nice to get a break from all the noise,” you said once you reached the terrace, leaning against the railing and looking out at the sea.
“Definitely,” Charles agreed, standing close beside you. “It’s been a perfect night, though.”
"I know," you smiled softly, "I'm so happy for Kika and Pierre, they deserve this so much."
"They really do. It's been a beautiful day," Charles nodded, his eyes fixed on you, "Just as beautiful as you."
He stepped closer, wrapping a hand around your waist, pulling you gently against him. Your heart raced at his touch, and you couldn't help but glance at his lips, wondering what it would feel like to kiss him. You'd thought about it more times than you'd like to admit, and the way he glanced at yours told you he did too.
“Charles,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, “what are you trying to do?”
He smiled, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m trying to charm the pretty bridesmaid,” he replied softly, his thumb tracing small circles on your waist.
You laughed, feeling a flutter in your stomach. “And how’s that working out for you?”
“Let’s find out,” he said, leaning in slowly.
He closed the distance between you, capturing his lips with yours. The kiss was everything you’d imagined and more, slow and sweet, filled with a longing that had been building for months. His hands slid up to cup your face, deepening the kiss, and you melted into him, losing yourself in the moment.
When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.
“Definitely working,” you whispered, making him chuckle.
He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes full of affection. “Good to know,” he said, his voice low and full of warmth.
You spent a few more moments on the terrace, talking and laughing, sharing more kisses and wrapped around each other.
You were not sure what this meant for your friendship, but you were too happy to care. The night felt magical, like a dream you never wanted to end. It was a night of new beginnings, not just for Kika and Pierre, but maybe for you as well.
As you both made your way back inside, hand in hand, you noticed a few knowing smiles and exchanged glances among your friends. Kika and Pierre were still on the dance floor, looking blissfully happy, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of joy for them.
“Look who’s back!” Lando called out, a wide grin on his face.
“What’s going on?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at their suspicious behavior.
Kika abruptly approached the group, dragging Pierre by the hand a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Everybody pay up,” she said, holding out her hand.
Charles and you exchanged confused looks. “What are you talking about?” he asked.
“We had a bet going,” Kika explained, clearly enjoying this. “We bet that we could get you two together before the wedding. And technically, we did.”
“Damn, I didn't think you girls would actually make it happen,” George handed over some money with a laugh.
“Wait, you all really bet on us? The infamous masterplan was actually a real thing?” you asked, still processing the revelation.
“Of course it was,” Rebecca said with a grin. “It was obvious to everyone except you two.”
"I can't believe you guys," you said, shaking your head but unable to suppress a smile, covering your face with your hands, Charles pecked your temple gently.
"To be fair, the girls started it, we just joined in later," Oscar said, trying to deflect the blame.
“I can’t believe it took a wedding and a bet to get us here," Charles chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "I guess we owe you all a thank you,"
"No need to thank us. Just be happy," Carmen sent a wink your way, making you smile.
"Alrighty, a toast now," Lando said, climbing on top of a chair. Everyone knew he was too drunk to be stopped so you just let him, "To Kika and Pierre the happiest and most beautiful couple in the world!"
"Hear, hear!" echoed through the crowd as glasses clinked together, laughter and cheers filling the air.
"And to YN finally becoming an official WAG!" Kika chimed in, her eyes twinkling with mischief, making the girls cheer.
"Official, huh?" Charles murmured, leaning in closer.
"We'll talk about that later, Leclerc," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
The rest of the night was a whirlwind of dancing, laughter, champagne and celebration. Charles never left your side as you enjoyed with your friends.
As the party continued, you found yourselves on the dance floor once more, swaying to a slow song. Charles held you close, his arms wrapped securely around you. "So, how does it feel to be an official WAG?" he asked, his breath warm against your ear.
"As far as I'm concerned, you haven't asked anything, mister," you teased raising your eyebrows.
"Well then, consider this me asking," he murmured, his voice playful yet sincere.
"In that case," you began, teasing him further, "I suppose it feels pretty good."
He grinned, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Good to hear," he replied softly, brushing his lips against your temple.
Being an official wag was amazing
read some extra scenes here !
i don’t know if your request are open but i just wanna ask, can you do a headcanon of tom x model!reader. like the readers on vogue or she models for lingerie
ᡣ𐭩 TOM WITH A MODEL GIRLFRIEND
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omg i love this requesttt 😭 i hope you like it! and sorry for disappearing but school is slowly killing me 😻💕
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oh boy he's OBSESSED with you
always buying your magazines
would hang up posters of you on his wall
loves to attend your catwalks and is the loudest in the crowd for you
he pretty much doesn't pay attention to the other models, he's just waiting for you
he's literally Dylan Sprouse (iykyk, a whole ass green forest)
istg he would look at you like this
he's would uhm...please himself with pictures of you...
LOVES to take photos of you
and also likes to exchange photos 😀iykwim (freaky ahh)
let's just say he's very pleased with your body type since you're a model and he's really into curves and stuff like that (idk how to word it but if you've seen some of his interviews you probably understand)
makes sure everyone knows you're his
you have a lot of public appeal so he's both jealous and worried people would go too far
makes sure you don't turn your job into something toxic
LOVES when you model for lingerie, but only when he gets the photos lmfao
he's kind of jealous ofc
likes to surprise and visit you during fittings and photoshoots
obviously you also attend a bunch of his concerts, and he's more than happy to see you in the crowd
always locking eyes and getting nervous/shy to the point he has to look away and focus on his guitar 🤭
Bill obviously likes to tease him with: "excuse my brother, he's very busy looking in that particular direction!"
loves when you run backstage into his arms after (especially because you don't care if he's as sweaty as a dog)
I'd say his pda level is a 6-7/10, but if he's a little jealous (doesn't matter the reason) he's a solid 8-9/10
In his eyes you're the goddess of beauty (which you are pookie! 🤭💞)
Since he's so obsessed with you, he probably makes sure to please you most in bed
he's not really into dirty talking, but he definitely gives you some words of appreciation like "you're so fucking pretty", "you're perfect", "i'm so lucky", "this is all for me, right?"
Because of tour and different schedules, sometimes you're apart for a long time. But he never misses a chance to call and Skype you whenever he can!
he's so proud that you're his girl
Flirts with you 24/7
He would remind you everyday not to listen to the obsessed fans who give you hate for being his girlfriend
He would do the thumb thingy when holding hands or cuddling
He would flip off the paparazzi if he catches them say something mean to/about you
sometimes he would disapprove of your dresses/clothes if they're too revealing
in conclusion, he's your number 1 fan 🥳
I have a request for Lando Norris x Sister!reader where she gets cheated on. Please🫶🏻 I love your writing
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
-xoxo babygirl 🧡
The paddock was buzzing with activity, fans cheering and cameras clicking as drivers moved between interviews and meetings. It was a typical race weekend—hectic, thrilling, and intense. But for Yn, none of it seemed to matter.
She walked beside Lando, her older brother, keeping her head down. Normally, she loved being at the Grand Prix. She’d tease Lando about his starts, laugh at his banter with the other drivers, and soak in the high-energy atmosphere. But today, her heart felt heavy.
Lando, always in tune with her moods, glanced down at her and frowned. “You’re too quiet,” he said as they reached the McLaren hospitality area. “This isn’t like you. What’s wrong?”
Yn sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
That was all it took for Lando’s protective instincts to kick in. “Oh, you’re definitely talking about it. Did something happen? Who do I need to fight?”
Yn couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at his immediate leap to violence. “It’s nothing. Just...my boyfriend cheated on me.”
Lando froze mid-step. He turned to her, his expression shifting from shock to anger. “He what?”
“Cheated,” Yn repeated, her voice cracking slightly. “With some girl he met at a party. I found out yesterday.”
Lando clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “That absolute—” He cut himself off, taking a deep breath. “Okay. First of all, you don’t deserve that. Second, I’m going to make sure you’re okay. And third, if I ever see him, he’s toast.”
Yn smiled faintly at his overprotective tone. “Thanks, Lan. But I don’t think anything can cheer me up right now.”
Lando wasn’t having it. “Challenge accepted.”
---
Throughout the morning, Lando hovered around her like a mother hen. He brought her tea, her favorite snacks, and even a McLaren hoodie to keep her warm. The other drivers began to notice.
“Why is Yn so quiet today?” Carlos asked, walking over to where she sat with her tea. “You’re usually giving Lando a hard time.”
“She’s going through something,” Lando replied, his tone making it clear the topic was off-limits. He wrapped an arm around Yn’s shoulders and pulled her closer. “But don’t worry. I’ve got this.”
Carlos raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. He ruffled Yn’s hair affectionately before heading off.
A little while later, Charles and Pierre stopped by. “Yn, you’re not smiling,” Charles said, crouching down to her eye level. “That’s illegal. Lando, what have you done?”
“For once, it’s not my fault,” Lando said, rolling his eyes. “She’s just—she’s sad. Leave her alone.”
Pierre, never one to resist a joke, smirked. “Do you need us to scare someone off? We’re good at that.”
“I can scare people off just fine,” Lando said firmly. “Thanks.”
Yn managed a small laugh, which made Charles and Pierre exchange victorious looks.
---
Later, when Ollie came by, he took one look at Yn and immediately tried to lighten the mood. “I’ve got an idea,” he announced, sitting down beside her. “What if I became your new boyfriend? I’d treat you like a queen.”
Yn laughed for the first time all day, the sound catching Lando’s attention from across the room. He walked over, arms crossed.
“Really, Ollie?” Lando said, glaring at his friend. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
“What?” Ollie said, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “I’m just saying, I’d be an upgrade.”
Yn shook her head, still giggling. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous, but effective,” Ollie said, winking at her.
Lando wasn’t amused. “Stick to racing, mate.”
Ollie shrugged and walked off, leaving Yn smiling. “He’s an idiot,” she said, leaning her head on Lando’s shoulder.
“True,” Lando agreed. “But if it made you laugh, I’ll allow it.”
---
As the day wore on, Lando continued to dote on Yn. He handed her tissues when she teared up, reminded her to drink water, and even skipped a strategy meeting to sit with her in the quiet corner of the hospitality area.
“You know,” Yn said softly, “you’re a really good brother.”
“Obviously,” Lando replied with a smirk. “But thanks. And for real, Yn, don’t let that guy make you feel like you’re not enough. He’s the idiot, not you.”
Yn sniffled and smiled up at him. “You’re the best.”
“Duh,” Lando said, pulling her into a hug. “Now, what do you say we watch the race together? I’ll dedicate my first overtake to you.”
Yn laughed, feeling lighter than she had all day. “Deal.”
By the time the sun set over the paddock, Yn was back to herself, and it was all thanks to Lando—her overprotective, slightly annoying, but always reliable big brother.
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Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Arthur LeClerc.
thank you to the person that requested this!!!
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Even if every driver on the grid was offering 1,000€ each as a prize, he was not giving up fucking you for an entire month.
Even though he looks like a sweetie pie he would absolutely be a freak in the sheets and he was not about to give up the only way he actually gets his frustration out (aka fucking you).
Everyone kind of boos him for it but then half way through the month he gets to be smug while they’re all miserable and complaining, because he can fuck his girlfriend whenever he wants.
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He wouldn’t care about the prize, he’d just have such a ‘how hard can it be?’ attitude.
Newsflash: extremely.
You would not make it easy for him either; wearing the sluttiest clothes, basically giving him fuck me eyes all the time, enjoying it when you see him get hot and bothered.
He snaps on his birthday, and fucks you for hours straight. You can barely walk the next day.
He decides to own up and pay his part of the bet with no shame, he has a hot girlfriend and he likes fucking her, sue him!
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He’s uninterested in the things most of the grid do in their spare time, and he knows they’re uninterested in him too. They don't need to know about his sex life, but what people can guess is that it is very much alive.
I mean… you two had a baby literally 8 months after your wedding, to the day.
The other 3 kids don't exactly help his case…
He’d say yes, just so he could be added to the group chat and he would tell you who is winning and losing.
He’d lose on the first day with no shame. Everyone knows he's just here for the public shaming of others.
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Not saying he’s not a freak in the sheets, but he would set up the entire thing (group chat, the money pool, etc.) and he cannot be seen lacking.
Even if it wasn’t his idea, he still needed to win.
You do make the entire month absolute torture though.
Matching sets, showing as much skin as possible, everything.
Even walking around the apartment naked.
But somehow, he doesn’t budge.
At the end of the month he does fuck you for ages, and you literally cant get out of bed, let alone follow him to a race. He tells the media you’re sick and all of the drivers have the dirtiest laughs as he explains. Despite every question, they keep their mouths shut.
George did announce that he won at the end, much to your chagrin.
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He would honestly be pretty good.
He kind of breaks the rules, he constantly gives you oral and jerking himself off, but it wasn’t specifically stated in the rules (apart from the name… but whatever)
He makes it like halfway through the month until a particularly bad race result.
He fucks you all night.
When you both get to the paddock in the morning, George pays him a visit to collect the money like the smug bastard he is.
He heard you two last night.
He was 4 doors down.
Oops.
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We all know Franco is awful at keeping his mouth shut, and in an interview he somehow lets it slip that he needed to find George to give him money.
They ask him what for.
He says ‘the bet’ and explains that they’re doing NNN this year and that he lost.
It was worth it though, you two hadn’t seen each other in months (you were busy in uni, he was busy at races) and he just had to have you.
He made it like a quarter of the way into the month.
He didn't really care.
The drivers honestly just found it funny that he told the media.
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He had done so well, ignoring all of your sexual advances for the majority of the month…
Then he got drunk.
Drunk Logan and drunk you? Yeah, you’re fucking.
He couldn’t keep his hands off you, and he paid the price.
He paid up sheepishly the next day, George looked at him with the smuggest smile ever.
Logan didn’t even care. He fucked you twice as much as before.
He has to make up for lost time, right?
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This man is a 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀
He would kind of do the same thing as Lewis, pay to just watch the rest of them loose.
He does last a little bit longer though (in their eyes).
He doesn’t pay up until the second week even though he’s been fucking you the entire time.
He has absolutely no shame about it either.
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He's such a cutie. I think he’d somehow abstain for a while.
He’d get to around the 26th, and then give up.
The month was torture though.
You literally would beg him every night, and he would just have to say no.
You were impressed at how long he lasted.
But then he gave in after he scored points in mexico...
Yuki ratted him out to George, he was very embarrassed.
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Charles is an idiot.
He would lose the first day by accident, and then try to pretend that it doesn't count until George actually comes knocking on his drivers room door looking for the money.
He heard you, of course.
Charles reluctantly watches the rest of the month play out, bitter that his own forgetfulness took him out so early.
He vows to win next year.
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He’s not giving up fucking you for a month. No way.
He also wouldn’t be interested in the sex lives of others enough to even pay into it like Lewis.
His sex life is his own, and as much as he loves healthy competition, this is a race he’s happy to lose.
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Dude is like a moody teenager when he’s not getting it.
Daniel persuades him to do it and he makes it a few days in.
Literally turns into the biggest moody bitch ever.
By the 8th day everyone is begging you to just fuck him so he’ll stop being such a cunt to them.
You do.
He pays up and spends the rest of the month fucking you.
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He would last pretty long. Like maybe more than half the month
Despite his playboy facade, he’s actually more into cuddles and shit like that.
But after a bad race…
Yeah, he pays up with zero shame.
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Y’know how quickly Charles lost, yeah he’d be worse.
He wouldn’t forget, he’d just think that he can get away with fucking you all month but of course, that doesn’t happen.
George comes knocking after Charles tells him he can hear you two.
You are deeply embarrassed that your boyfriend's brother heard you two having sex, and you impose a ban for the rest of the month.
You say it’ll help you both be more aware of when and where you’re doing it, and how to not get caught by his brother again.
He curses out his brother the next time he sees him.
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
Day 23 → Consensual Non-Consent 💋 Max Verstappen
Warnings: 18+ content, CNC, drugging, and conditioning
Kinktober Masterlist
The streets of Monaco glimmer under the soft afternoon sun, a golden haze coating the narrow lanes of boutiques and cafés. Your sandals click against the cobblestone as you make your way towards the boutique district.
Excitement pulses in your veins. The air smells of salt from the sea mixed with expensive perfumes wafting from open shop doors. A vacation, you think. Finally, a breath of freedom.
There’s a group of tourists ahead, their laughter bouncing between the buildings, but you don’t pay them much attention. You’re too busy thinking about the new dress you’ve been eyeing since last night. Just a few more minutes, and you’ll-
A hand. Suddenly.
It’s over your mouth. It’s over your nose. You barely process the scent of something sweet before your body reacts, muscles tensing as you thrash, trying to scream. But your voice is gone. Your world is tipping sideways. The bustling streets dim, muffled voices becoming far-off echoes.
You struggle. Harder now, your legs kicking wildly, hands flailing to grab onto something — anything — but it’s useless. The arms around you are too strong, pulling you back, pulling you down. The cloth over your face smells like chemicals, sickly sweet and heavy.
The light above you begins to blur. Your fingers twitch, reaching for the fading streetlights, for the sky, but everything’s too far away. Your limbs stop responding. You’re falling.
And then — nothing.
***
When you come to, your eyelids feel impossibly heavy. Everything is hazy, dark. You try to move but your body doesn’t listen. Panic flares. You can barely breathe, and your head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton.
Then you hear voices. Men, low and murmuring, their words filtering into your consciousness through the haze.
“... should be waking up soon,” one of them says. His voice is smooth, calm, like this is all perfectly normal.
“Why her, though?” It’s the driver, speaking in a clipped tone. The rumble of the engine thrums beneath you, the subtle vibration reminding you that you’re in a car. “There are thousands of beautiful women here, Max. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”
There’s a pause.
And then, a deeper voice, Max, answers.
“I knew the moment I saw her,” Max says, his tone dark, possessive. “She’s meant to be mine.”
Your heart thuds. You can hear him shifting in the seat next to you, close enough that you can feel the heat of him.
The driver scoffs. “That’s ridiculous. You don’t even know her.”
“I don’t need to,” Max replies smoothly. “Some things are undeniable.”
His words drip with confidence, like this is all part of some grand plan that only he understands.
You try to move again, to make a sound, but your limbs are heavy and unresponsive, and fear curls in your stomach like a fist. You’re trapped, lying motionless in the backseat of this car with two strangers, one of whom thinks he owns you.
“She’ll resist,” the driver says. “They always resist.”
Max chuckles, low and quiet. “Of course she will. At first.” There’s a pause, then you hear him shift closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “But I’ll make her understand. She’ll be perfect once I’ve made her mine.”
The air around you feels suffocating, his presence overwhelming. You want to scream, to cry, but your body remains limp, powerless under whatever they’ve drugged you with. You try to focus, to force your eyes open, but it’s like swimming through quicksand.
“She’s pretty,” the driver remarks after a beat. “But not worth all this. You really think she’s the one?”
Max lets out a quiet laugh, a sound that sends chills down your spine. “She is the one. I’ve seen plenty of women, but none like her.”
The driver grunts, unconvinced. “You sound obsessed.”
“I’m not obsessed,” Max corrects him, his tone calm, deliberate. “I’m certain.”
A silence stretches between them, the only sound the hum of the engine and the faint rustle of fabric as Max leans back.
You fight against the drug still clouding your senses, trying to make sense of your surroundings. The luxurious leather beneath you, the soft vibrations of the car — this isn’t just any car. It’s expensive. You can tell by the way it smells, by the subtle way it moves over the road. These men — they aren’t amateurs.
“What’s the plan, then?” The driver asks, breaking the silence. “You can’t just keep her like this.”
Max takes his time responding. “I’ll introduce myself properly once she wakes up. Once she’s calm.”
“And if she’s not?”
“She will be,” Max says, a thread of steel weaving into his voice. “She doesn’t have a choice.”
Your stomach churns. You try again to move, to scream, but nothing comes out. It’s like your body is a prison, and you’re trapped inside, helpless. You feel Max’s gaze on you, heavy, unyielding. Even though you can’t see him, you know he’s watching, waiting.
“You’re insane,” the driver mutters, shaking his head. “This is a bad idea.”
Max doesn’t respond immediately. When he does, his voice is low, quiet, almost intimate. “You don’t understand,” he says. “She belongs to me. I knew it the moment I saw her walk out of that hotel. I could feel it.”
The driver sighs. “I still don’t get it. Why go through all this trouble? She’s just a girl.”
“She’s not just a girl,” Max snaps, his patience thinning. “She’s the girl. The only one.”
Your pulse quickens. You’ve heard enough to know that whatever Max wants from you, it’s not something you can just walk away from. There’s something dangerous about the way he talks about you, like you’re an object, something to be claimed and owned.
“Whatever,” the driver says, clearly done with the conversation. “Just make sure you know what you’re doing.”
“I always do,” Max replies, the confidence back in his voice. “Now, keep driving.”
There’s a shift in the car, a turn, and you feel the momentum change as they head somewhere new. You fight to stay conscious, to fight through the fog in your mind, but it’s getting harder and harder to focus. The drugs are still working their way through your system, and you can feel yourself slipping.
Max leans in closer again, his voice soft, almost a whisper. “Don’t worry,” he says. “You’ll wake up soon. And when you do, we’ll start over. Properly this time.”
The car hums beneath you as it continues its journey, and with every second that passes, you feel yourself fading again, drifting away into the darkness.
***
Time slips away, and you don’t know how long you’ve been out when you finally stir. Your eyes flutter open, and the world slowly comes back into focus. The car has stopped, parked somewhere dark and quiet. You can barely move, but you manage to shift slightly, just enough to feel the weight of the leather seat beneath you, the tightness of your clothes against your skin.
There’s a rustle next to you, and then Max is there, leaning over you, his eyes gleaming in the dim light.
“Good,” he murmurs, his voice a low purr. “You’re awake.”
You try to speak, but your throat is dry, and all that comes out is a faint croak.
“Shh,” Max soothes, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Don’t try to talk. You’re still a little out of it.”
Your heart races, and you try to push yourself up, but your limbs are still sluggish, your body refusing to obey.
Max watches you for a moment, then smiles. “Don’t worry,” he says. “This will all make sense soon enough.”
You want to scream, to lash out, to fight, but you can’t. You’re trapped, and Max knows it.
“You’re mine,” he whispers, leaning in close, his breath warm against your skin. “And I’ll make sure you understand that.”
Terror grips you, but there’s nothing you can do. Not yet.
Max sits back, his eyes never leaving you, and for the first time, you realize just how much danger you’re in.
The world outside the car is quiet, the faint rustle of leaves the only sound in the stillness. You’re groggy, trying to push through the fog in your mind as Max’s hands move to unbuckle your seatbelt. His touch is efficient, calculated, not gentle. The door opens with a soft click, and you feel the cool night air wash over your skin.
Max leans down, his face close to yours, eyes sharp and watchful. “I’m going to carry you inside,” he says, almost as if he’s giving you permission to protest. But you can’t. You can barely lift your head. The drug still lingers, turning your limbs to lead.
Without another word, he slides his arms under you, lifting you effortlessly. His grip is secure, possessive, and you can feel the strength in his muscles as he carries you out of the car and toward the looming silhouette of a villa in the distance. It’s massive. Larger than anything you’ve ever seen in real life, with sprawling gardens that stretch into the darkness. The villa itself is lit from within, a soft glow spilling through tall windows. It’s beautiful in a cold, detached way, like a piece of art you can admire but never touch.
As Max carries you up the long driveway, his pace is steady, unhurried. He isn’t worried about anyone seeing him. He’s confident. Why wouldn’t he be? There’s no one around. No one to help.
“Where are you taking me?” You manage to whisper, your voice weak but steady enough to ask the question that’s been burning in your mind.
Max doesn’t stop walking. He doesn’t even look at you. “Home,” he replies simply.
You swallow, the word landing like a stone in your chest. “This isn’t-”
“It will be,” he cuts you off, his voice calm, like he’s already made up his mind about everything. “You’ll see.”
You try to focus, to take in every detail. The way the villa seems to stretch forever, the heavy scent of flowers in the air, the distant hum of the sea. The weight of Max’s arms around you, the way his fingers press into your skin as though he’s afraid you might slip away.
But you’re not slipping anywhere.
He carries you through the grand entrance, past doors that swing open with ease, revealing a marble-floored foyer that’s so pristine, it feels untouched. There’s a quietness to the place, a hollow, echoing silence that sends a chill down your spine.
The sound of Max’s shoes against the marble floor is steady, rhythmic, as he carries you through the house. You catch glimpses of rooms as you pass — an opulent dining room with a crystal chandelier, a sitting room with velvet chairs and enormous windows. But it’s all a blur, your mind struggling to hold on to details as exhaustion pulls at you.
Finally, Max stops in front of a set of tall double doors. He shifts you slightly in his arms, then pushes one of the doors open with his shoulder. The room beyond is lavish, even more opulent than the rest of the villa. The bed is massive, draped in silk and velvet, with heavy curtains framing the windows that stretch from floor to ceiling. The walls are lined with dark wood, polished to a shine, and a crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling, casting soft light across the room.
Max walks over to the bed, lowering you gently onto the soft mattress. Your body sinks into the silk sheets, and for a moment, it feels like you’re floating. But the comfort is fleeting, replaced quickly by the suffocating weight of reality.
He stands over you, his eyes scanning your face as if he’s searching for something. “This is where you’ll stay for now,” he says, his tone matter-of-fact. “Until you understand.”
You blink, struggling to keep your thoughts from spiraling out of control. “Understand what?”
Max’s lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile. “That you belong here. With me.”
You want to argue, to scream, to do anything to break through the haze that’s clouding your mind. But the words catch in your throat, and all you can manage is a shaky breath.
Max moves to the foot of the bed, his hands clasped behind his back as he regards you with that same unnerving calm. “This is the beginning,” he says softly. “The conditioning will start now.”
Your heart lurches. Conditioning. The word feels clinical, detached, like something out of a textbook. But the way Max says it makes it clear that this is no abstract concept. This is real. It’s happening to you.
“What are you talking about?” You whisper, forcing the words past the lump in your throat.
Max steps closer, his gaze steady, almost gentle. “You’re going to learn to associate certain things with me. Pleasure, comfort, safety. And you’ll learn that being without me ... hurts.” He says it so simply, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Your stomach twists. “You can’t ... you can’t do this.”
“I already am,” he replies smoothly, his eyes dark and unreadable. “The process is simple. Every time you wake up, you’ll feel better when I’m here. Worse when I’m not. Eventually, it’ll become instinct. You’ll crave my presence. You’ll need me.”
Your breath quickens, panic rising in your chest. “You’re insane.”
Max tilts his head slightly, as though considering your words. “Maybe,” he says, almost casually. “But that doesn’t change anything.”
Before you can respond, there’s a knock at the door. Max doesn’t react, doesn’t even turn to look as the door swings open. A man enters, dressed in a white coat, carrying a small bag in one hand. He’s older, with graying hair and a sharp, clinical air about him. He looks at you briefly, then turns his attention to Max.
“Everything’s prepared,” the man says, his voice clipped and professional.
Max nods. “Good. Let’s begin.”
The man moves to the side of the bed, setting his bag down on the nightstand. You try to push yourself up, but your body still feels sluggish, uncooperative. Fear surges through you as the man opens the bag, pulling out a syringe filled with clear liquid.
“Wait,” you rasp, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Please, don’t do this.”
Max moves closer, his gaze fixed on you. “It’s for your own good,” he says softly. “You’ll understand soon.”
The physician takes your arm, finding a vein with practiced ease. You flinch, but the needle is in before you can even protest. The liquid burns as it enters your bloodstream, a slow, creeping warmth that spreads through your body.
Your vision starts to blur again, the edges of the room fading into darkness. Max’s voice is the last thing you hear before everything goes black.
“You’ll wake up soon,” he says, his voice gentle, almost soothing. “And when you do, I’ll be here. Right where I belong.”
***
The next time you open your eyes, it feels like hours have passed. Maybe days. You’re not sure. The room is the same, the heavy curtains drawn, the chandelier casting its soft glow across the dark wood and silk.
Max is there, sitting in a chair by the bed, watching you. His presence is like a weight in the room, something you can feel even before you fully register it. The sight of him sends a strange warmth through your chest, a flicker of something you don’t want to acknowledge.
“You’re awake,” he says, his voice low and steady.
You blink, trying to shake off the fog that still clings to your mind. “What ... what did you do?”
Max leans forward slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I told you,” he says softly. “The conditioning has begun.”
You try to sit up, but your body feels weak, drained. The drug — whatever they gave you — is still working its way through your system, dulling your senses. But even through the haze, you can feel it. The strange pull toward Max, the inexplicable comfort that his presence brings. It’s wrong. It’s all wrong.
“You can’t-” you start, but your voice falters. The words don’t come as easily as they should.
Max stands, moving to the side of the bed. “I know it’s confusing right now,” he says, his tone almost kind. “But it’ll get easier. The more time we spend together, the more natural it’ll feel. You’ll stop fighting it.”
You shake your head, trying to clear the fog. “I’ll never-”
“You will,” Max interrupts, his voice firm but not harsh. “You don’t have a choice.”
He reaches out, brushing a hand over your hair, his touch gentle but possessive. The warmth that spreads through you at the contact is immediate, overwhelming, and you hate it. You hate the way your body responds, the way your mind seems to betray you.
“I’ll leave you for now,” Max says, pulling his hand back. “But don’t worry. I won’t be gone long.”
Your heart races as he steps away, moving toward the door. The thought of him leaving sends a sharp pang through your chest, and you can’t understand why. This is what you want. To be free of him. To be alone.
But as the door closes behind him, the room suddenly feels colder, emptier. The warmth he left behind begins to fade, replaced by an aching void that gnaws at you from the inside.
You close your eyes, trying to fight it, trying to cling to your own thoughts, but the emptiness crashes over you like a tidal wave. It’s immediate — sharp and suffocating, spreading through your body like a cold fog. You close your eyes, trying to focus on anything else, but the ache pulses deep inside you. Your muscles tense as though they’re bracing against a storm, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
The room feels unbearably quiet without him, as though the air has been sucked out, leaving only a hollow silence behind. You hate this. You hate how quickly your body has betrayed you, how quickly the comfort of his presence has taken root inside you.
This is wrong, you tell yourself. It’s the drugs, the conditioning.
But the longer he’s gone, the more unbearable the ache becomes. It’s subtle at first, like a distant pressure, but it grows stronger, clawing at your insides until every nerve feels raw and exposed. Your breath comes in shallow, uneven gasps as you fight against the pull, but it’s relentless.
Time stretches out. You don’t know how long you’ve been lying there, staring up at the ceiling, but it feels like an eternity. Every second without him feels like a thousand needles pressing into your skin. Your body screams for relief, for the warmth of his presence to soothe the burning ache inside you.
You grit your teeth, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. This isn’t real, you think, but your body doesn’t care. All it knows is that it hurts.
And then, after what feels like an eternity, the door opens.
The relief is instant. The moment Max steps into the room, the ache that’s been gnawing at you recedes, replaced by a wave of warmth that rushes through your veins. You hate it. You hate how quickly the pain fades, how easily your body responds to him, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
Max walks in slowly, his eyes locked on you, taking in every detail of your face as if reading the changes in your expression. You don’t need to speak for him to know what you’re feeling. He can see it. He can see how desperate your body is for the comfort he brings, even though your mind is screaming for it to stop.
“I told you,” Max says softly, moving closer to the bed. “You’ll feel better when I’m here.”
You don’t respond. You can’t. Your throat feels tight, the words trapped inside you, and the worst part is you don’t know if they’d come out as anger or something worse.
Max sits on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. The touch is gentle, careful, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “I’m here to make you feel good,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “That’s what I’ll always do. As long as you behave for me.”
You swallow hard, the weight of his words pressing down on you. He says it like a promise, like he genuinely believes that he’s helping you.
“I don’t need you,” you manage to whisper, your voice shaking. “I don’t want this.”
Max’s smile is soft, almost pitying. “Your body says otherwise.” His fingers trail down your cheek, brushing against your skin. “You can fight it all you want, but you’ll always feel better when I’m close. That’s the way it’s going to be.”
You try to pull away from his touch, but your body betrays you, craving the warmth and relief that comes with his proximity. The ache that had threatened to consume you moments ago is gone, replaced by a simmering heat that spreads through your limbs, making your skin tingle under his fingertips.
Max watches you closely, his eyes dark and calculating as he gauges your reaction. “See?” He murmurs, his voice soft and coaxing. “You’re already starting to understand.”
“I hate you,” you whisper, but even as you say the words, your body is reacting to him, leaning into his touch despite the protests screaming in your mind.
Max doesn’t flinch at your words. If anything, he seems amused. “Hate me if you want,” he says, his tone light. “But your body knows the truth.”
His hand moves lower, trailing down your arm, sending a ripple of sensation through you that you can’t control. Your breath catches in your throat as the warmth intensifies, and you clench your fists, trying to fight the pull.
Max’s fingers skim the edge of your dress, his eyes never leaving yours as he watches the way your body reacts. “You’ll feel good, I promise,” he whispers. “Better than you’ve ever felt before.”
You shake your head, panic rising in your chest. “No-”
But Max doesn’t stop. His hand slips under the fabric of your dress, his touch deliberate and slow as he hikes it up over your thighs, exposing your skin to the cool air of the room. Your heart races, a mixture of fear and something you don’t want to name thrumming through your veins.
“Shh,” Max soothes, his voice steady. “You’ll learn to trust me. To need me. It’s already happening.”
You try to close your legs, but his hands are firm, guiding you open, controlling the movement of your body as if you’re nothing more than a doll in his hands. A small, broken sound escapes your throat, but he doesn’t stop, his fingers tracing patterns over your skin, making your pulse quicken.
“I told you I’d make you feel good,” he says softly, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “You don’t have to fight it.”
Tears prick at your eyes, your chest heaving with shallow, uneven breaths. You want to scream, to kick, to fight him off, but the weight of your own body holds you down. And worse — the warmth that follows his touch, the heat building in your core, it betrays you. You can’t stop the way your body reacts to him, no matter how much you want to.
Max shifts, his knee pressing against the bed as he leans over you, his hand sliding higher under your dress. His fingers graze the edge of your underwear, and your breath hitches, panic and unwanted anticipation coiling together inside you.
“Please,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “Don’t.”
But Max doesn’t listen. His hand slips beneath the fabric, his fingers brushing against you, and the sensation is overwhelming. You arch against him involuntarily, your body moving without your consent, and the heat inside you builds, the ache that had threatened to consume you earlier morphing into something entirely different.
“You’ll come to love this,” Max says, his tone calm, confident. “In time, you’ll crave it.”
You want to scream that he’s wrong, that you’ll never crave this, but your body doesn’t listen. It reacts to his touch, to the way his fingers move, coaxing a response out of you that you can’t control.
Max’s other hand moves to your hair, brushing it back gently as he leans down, his lips close to your ear. “Let go,” he whispers. “Stop fighting it. I’ll take care of you.”
Your breath is ragged, your heart pounding in your chest as the heat builds inside you, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge, caught between the need to escape and the unbearable sensation that’s pushing you closer to a precipice you don’t want to fall over.
“I’ll always make you feel good,” Max murmurs, his fingers moving faster over your clit, his voice a steady, calming presence in the storm raging inside you. “As long as you’re good for me.”
Your body tenses, the wave crashing over you, pulling you under. You gasp, your back arching off the bed as the sensation overwhelms you, drowning out every thought, every protest, until there’s nothing left but the blinding heat of release.
Max’s hand stills, his touch softening as the aftershocks ripple through you, and he watches, his expression unreadable as you come undone beneath him. You hate it. You hate every second of it. But the worst part is that your body craves it.
Max leans back, his hand trailing away from you, leaving your skin burning in its absence. He stands, adjusting his sleeves as though nothing out of the ordinary has happened.
“You did well,” he says, his voice soft, almost tender. “I’ll leave you to rest now.”
Your body is limp, your mind spinning as you try to process what’s just happened. The ache is gone, replaced by an empty exhaustion that weighs heavily on your limbs.
Max heads toward the door, pausing only briefly to glance back at you. “Remember,” he says quietly, his eyes dark and intense. “You’ll always feel better when I’m here.”
Then he’s gone, the door closing softly behind him.
You lie there, staring at the ceiling, the echo of his touch still lingering on your skin. The room is silent again, but this time the silence isn’t cold. It’s suffocating, pressing down on you like a heavy blanket, and for the first time since you arrived in this place, you realize just how trapped you are.
And worst of all, you know that he’s right.
***
The door opens again.
This time, when you hear it, your body doesn’t flood with fear, or even confusion — it’s anticipation. The ache that had returned in his absence is quickly soothed as Max steps into the room, his presence undeniable, filling the space with a charged energy that you’ve come to crave.
His steps are measured, deliberate, as he crosses the room to you. There’s no hesitation in his movement, no uncertainty. He knows exactly what he’s doing and what you both agreed upon. The room feels smaller when he’s in it, like the walls close in, but in a way that feels safe, protected — like nothing can touch you except him.
Max’s lips curl into a slow, knowing smile as he comes to the side of the bed, his eyes locking onto yours. He says nothing at first, letting the moment linger between you, thick and heavy. You’re not sure if you should speak or wait for him to break the silence.
He doesn’t make you wait long.
“Good girl,” he murmurs softly, his voice like velvet as he leans down, brushing a kiss against your forehead. “You were perfect.”
There’s a flutter of warmth in your chest at the praise, something that makes you feel both proud and vulnerable all at once. You blink up at him, your body still exhausted from what just happened, but there’s something comforting about the way he’s looking at you now. The way his hand reaches out to caress your cheek, tender and affectionate, as if to erase any remnants of the harshness from before.
“I wasn’t sure if you could handle it,” Max continues, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw with an intimacy that feels far more personal than anything he’s done before. “But you did. You always do, don’t you?”
You nod, your throat tight, the words caught somewhere between your mind and your mouth. You can’t quite shake the feeling of how intense everything was, how quickly it all escalated. But now, with him here, touching you like this, the pieces of the scene start to fall away, revealing what lies underneath.
Max watches you, waiting for your response, but he’s patient. He always is, especially after something like this. He knows you need time to come back down, to find your footing after the role you’ve both played.
“Was it … okay?” You manage to ask, your voice still soft and hesitant. There’s a vulnerability in your tone, a need for reassurance, even though you know how he feels.
Max’s eyes soften, and he leans down to kiss you — soft, slow, and deliberate. His lips linger against yours, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss. It’s a different kind of intensity now, one that speaks to the connection you both share. When he finally pulls back, there’s a hint of amusement in his gaze.
“More than okay,” he whispers. “You were incredible.”
The tension that had been coiled inside you loosens at his words, and you feel yourself relax against the pillows. Max’s praise always has this effect on you, like it fills in the cracks and makes everything feel right again.
“I love you,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your lower lip as he studies your face. “Every second of it was perfect because it was with you.”
The weight of those words settles into your chest, grounding you in the reality of what you both share. It’s all an act — a scene you agreed upon. Max has always been careful, always made sure you were okay with everything. That’s how it works between you two. The intensity, the control, the power dynamic — it’s all part of the game, part of what you’ve both built together. But underneath it all is the love, the trust that binds you to him.
He presses another kiss to your lips, softer this time, a gesture of affection rather than dominance. When he pulls away, there’s a lightness in his expression, a warmth that makes the remnants of the scene melt away completely.
“I have something for you,” he says, standing up and walking toward the door. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
You watch as he exits the room, the anticipation building again, though this time it’s mixed with curiosity. Moments later, Max returns, pushing a small cart laden with trays of food. The smell hits you first — rich, savory, and mouthwatering. Your stomach growls in response, reminding you that you haven’t eaten in what feels like forever.
Max notices, and the corner of his mouth lifts into a satisfied smile. “I thought you might be hungry.”
You sit up slightly, propping yourself on your elbows as Max wheels the cart over to the side of the bed. He lifts the lids from the trays, revealing an array of delicacies — perfectly grilled meats, roasted vegetables, fresh fruit, and decadent desserts. It’s more than just a meal, it’s a feast.
“Let me,” Max says, reaching for a fork. He cuts a small piece of steak and holds it out to you, his eyes watching your every movement, waiting for you to take the first bite.
You hesitate for only a moment before leaning forward, letting him feed you. The flavors burst across your tongue, rich and savory, and you can’t help the small sound of appreciation that escapes your lips.
Max’s smile widens. “Good?”
You nod, swallowing before responding. “It’s amazing.”
“Good girl,” he murmurs, and there’s that familiar warmth in his voice again, the praise sinking into your skin like sunlight. He cuts another piece of food, feeding it to you before leaning in to kiss you between bites.
Each kiss is soft, slow, and filled with an affection that feels worlds away from the intensity of earlier. You sink into the moment, into the comfort of his presence, letting yourself be taken care of.
“You were so perfect for me,” Max whispers between kisses, his lips brushing against your cheek. “I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”
You smile softly, feeling the tension of the day melt away as you let him feed you, let him take care of you. There’s something intimate about the act, something grounding. It’s not just about the food — it’s about the connection, the way he looks at you with such devotion in his eyes.
Max takes his time, savoring the moment as much as you are. He alternates between feeding you and stealing kisses, each one a little longer, a little deeper than the last. His hands are gentle as they move over your skin, brushing your hair back, cupping your face, his touch always lingering just a little longer than necessary.
“You have no idea how proud I am of you,” he murmurs against your lips. “The way you trust me, the way you let go. It’s everything I could ever want.”
You close your eyes, leaning into him, the warmth of his words settling deep inside you. It’s always like this after a scene — the tenderness, the closeness. Max knows how to bring you back, how to make you feel safe and loved after everything.
“I couldn’t do it without you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.
Max pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression softening even more. “We do this together. That’s what makes it so special.”
There’s a weight to his words, a promise that echoes in the quiet of the room. You nod, knowing it’s true. You wouldn’t be able to do any of this without him — not the scenes, not the intensity, not the way you let yourself go completely when you’re with him.
Max leans in again, kissing you deeply this time, his hands cradling your face as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. When he finally pulls away, there’s a hunger in his eyes, but it’s not the same hunger from earlier. This one is softer, more intimate, and it makes your heart swell in your chest.
“I love you,” he says again, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I love you too,” you reply, the words coming easily, naturally, because they’re the truest thing you know.
Max smiles, a slow, satisfied smile that makes your stomach flip. He reaches for one of the desserts on the tray — a small piece of chocolate cake — and holds it out to you. You take a bite, and before you can even swallow, Max is kissing you again, his lips tasting of chocolate and sweetness.
“You taste so good,” he murmurs against your lips, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss.
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of kisses and laughter, the food slowly disappearing from the trays as Max continues to feed you, praising you with every bite and every kiss. The intensity of earlier is long gone, replaced by something deeper, something that feels like home.
And as you lie there in his arms, sated and content, you know that no matter what happens, no matter how intense the scenes get, you’ll always have this — this quiet, tender intimacy that belongs to just the two of you.
Geta
I’ve already made something similar for his jealousy/ possessiveness but I like talking about it so much that I wanted to added onto it ngl. That and I went a little longer with this one then the others cuz I love him.
Geta is more possessive than jealous. Simple as.
While sharing everything with Caracalla has it’s downsides, but the fact that he finally had someone to call his own without the expectation to share you, only made Geta all the more hellbent on keeping you with him and reminding others that you were more then taken by him.
He doesn’t take lightly to people looking at you a second longer then they should or in a similar way that he does -it doesn’t end up pretty for them at all- and your left with the burning glare of his against your back as he silently seethes from his throne, his hand clutching the glass in his hand so tightly that you swore it was going to break within his grasp if he wasn’t careful.
Geta’s possessiveness always pushed him into decorating you in the finest clothes, finest jewels and stones across Rome in order to show that you were his and only his, reminding others that they couldn’t have what he was proud to call his and his only. However he was aware that there were men of such nature who believed that it didn’t matter if you were with him or not, you were still the one they set their sights on regardless.
Geta despised men of such nature, he once told you that those kinds of men were those who lacked a mind, lacked the favour of the gods within any vicinity of their lives and should be considered less then men for trying to take you away from him.
So needless to say you’d have to speak soft words into his skin to remind him that he was the emperor, nothing that is his could ever be taken away from him, not even you as you’d knew he would do everything within his power to get you back while making them pay however he saw fit. You scattered kisses across his warm face and caress the backs of his hands, pamper him in soft love and affection before his anger consumed him completely, all the while telling him all that he needed to hear.
‘I’m yours Geta, never theirs. They can wish for the gods to change our fate but they’re to ones who weaves our love into existence in the first place, for the gods knew that there was never a stronger force then you and I.’ You’d say into his skin as you could feel his heart soften beneath your touch.
Geta’s temper was a pain but not one you couldn’t mange, speak reason into him and watch as his hands grasped you possessively, kneading the skin of your hips as he pulls you towards him to press his forehead firmly again yours as his dark eyes looked deeply into your own.
‘The gods can’t take away the bond they’ve made between us, for that would mean to admit a flaw on their part but the gods never make mistakes, they brought us together for a reason and we should make good on that my love for no one can touch us should we stay as we are now.’ You added on as you watched the anger fade from his eyes.
‘You weave words in ways that’ll make poets jealous my love,’ he replied. ‘But I must agree that nothing will ever touch us should we stay as close as we are now, so let’s stay here for a moment longer while I have you with me now to love and to hold.’ He finishes.
‘What about Rome?’ You’d ask.
‘Rome can wait, I on the other hand cannot wait to taste you my dearest heart.’ Geta replied and all thoughts of his jealously left his body as though it was never there.
Caracalla
Dare I saw somehow even worse than Geta?
Caracalla’s jealously stems from inferiority due to always having to share shit with Geta.
So if he were to ever see that someone was within distance of you, it’s not something that ends well for either you nor the person whom Caracalla was convinced was the perpetrator.
The air is still and stiff as Caracalla would immediately take his place by your side, hand griping your side in a possessive manner, that you wouldn’t be surprised if you’ll soon find bruises from his grasp once you were alone. That is if Caracalla allows you to be alone after this one instance where someone got a little too comfortable with the emperor’s spouse.
The person might as well have been killed then and there or taken away to be killed later by the guards. There was nothing you could’ve done to prevent their death as before long Caracalla would be more than likely accusing you of favouring the company of other people over his.
Now you’d have to tread carefully and make sure no weapons were within sight for him to grab, or anything that he could get his hands on really, and press your case to him that that wasn’t true at all and that you loved him with all your heart.
‘Then shall I cut your heart out and see if it still beats for me even when far removed from your body?’ He’d then say and your heart raced but your face remained calm, collected as any other emotion will only make things worse for you.
‘It shall always beat for you no matter whether you cut it from my chest or rest your head again me to heart it closely as it whispers to you my love.’ You then say as you stepped closer to him, all the while watching his every move as though you were waiting for a concealed weapon to make itself know, but it never did.
‘Lies! You favour Geta over me! No better than the others!’ He’d scream, making you stop in your tracks.
‘Why would I favour him when I married you? Caracalla I’m many things but a liar is not one of them, look into my eyes and seek the truth for yourself should words fall short for your reasoning.’ You tell him as you watched him close the distance between the two of you and look you directly in the eyes with a look you’ve never been on the receiving end of. It was scary but you held your ground in hopes that he would see that you were true.
‘You choose me?’ He’d asks softly this time.
‘In every life I have after this one I shall always choose you.’ You said.
‘Even this one?’ He adds.
‘Even this one my love.’ You echoed.
Caracalla smiled and let out the cutest little giggles that you have ever heard from a bloodthirsty emperor as he threw himself into your arms, holding you tight as though he didn’t threatened to steal your heart earlier. ‘Your heart belongs to me, the gods will it so.’ He says in an almost chant as he pressed his head against your chest and closes his eyes. ‘Your heart speaks to me and call me with words of love, devotion and gratitude.’ He then says as you run your hands through his soft but messy hair.
‘As it should.’ You told him.
‘As it should.’ He echoes softly this time as you stood there just holding one another in a moment of peace that you’d never thought would come.
Marcus Acacius
Doesn’t nearly get as jealous as the two emperors, if anything he’s confident of your relationship to endure a few hardships outside of petty jealously.
However this does not mean the general doesn’t feel it tickle his heart whenever he saw that someone was getting a little too close for his liking towards you, but with a strong and protective hand pressed against the small of your back to keep you close to him.
He takes pride in you and how you can easily draw people in much like you did with him when you first met, proving it to be a testimony to the type of person you were and it was something Marcus admired deeply about you with a smitten smile and softened eyes that were always on you, as though he couldn’t tear them away from you even if he was to try. He loves his beloved spouse and nothing will ever change that and he could always find himself falling more and more in love with you at every possible moment.
It warmed his heart to see you talk to the children of Rome or aiding the elderly but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t going to step in when he saw an unsavoury character encroach on you while you were unaware. Marcus is protective of his beloved and he wasn’t about to let to leave you to be carelessly open to any and all harm that may come your way. The jealously is in no way aimed towards you as you weren’t doing anything to perpetuate the persons delusions that you were reciprocating to their advances.
Yet a flash of his sword and the unimpressed scowl upon his face was more than enough to deter unwarranted company. Marcus would do anything to make sure that you were comfortable as you’d always be a priority for this dedicated man.
So the man is not above getting a little physical should that be the case for your safety.
✓ WHAT IF NICHOLAS CHAVEZ WAS YOUR BOYFRIEND?
— Sempre vai fazer questão de andar de mãos dadas com você, sempre. É como se para ele fosse uma certeza de que você estava perto e estava bem
— Ama dar selinhos em você. Uma vez deitados na cama, ele ama abraçar o seu corpo, acariciar o seu rosto e te encher de selinhos e beijinhos por todo o rosto, às vezes fazendo cócegas com a barba por fazer
— Adora te abraçar por trás e ver como o corpo dele cobre o seu pela diferença de tamanho, dependendo da situação, quando ele te abraça por trás você já pode imaginar o que ele quer
— Não tem masculinidade frágil. Vai te deixar maquiar ele quando estiver entediada, adora as noites de skincare e quando você separa um tempo para fazer hidratação no cabelo dele, se sente até mais leve
— Vai sempre preferir te tocar do que ser tocado. Não que ele não goste, ele apenas sente mais tesão com isso, de ver suas expressões, seu corpo se arqueando e se arrepiando, tudo, tudo o excita
— Tempo de qualidade e toque físico vão ser as coisas pelas quais ele mais preza, sempre vai querer estar te tocando de alguma forma, mesmo que seja andar com os mindinhos dados pela rua. E odeia ficar muito tempo longe de você, não que ele seja carente, mas ele simplesmente só se sente genuinamente feliz quando você está por perto
— Vai amar tomar banho junto com você, seja depois de transar ou não e seja para fazer sexo debaixo do chuveiro — ou na banheira — ou não. Simplesmente gosta de cuidar de você, ajudar a lavar seu cabelo e vice versa
— Gosta de deixar marcas pelo seu corpo. Chupões, mordidas, qualquer coisa, mas nunca em um lugar muito visível, sabe que você não gosta
— É ciumento, muito. Não em um nível hard, mas não nega que fica irritado e emburrado o rolê inteiro se ver alguém claramente tentando algo com você
— Vai amar ter você como parceira na academia, mesmo que não seja diariamente e sim raramente. Vai amar te ajudar, vai te deixar mais relaxada quando sentir vergonha de fazer algo e claro, vai ficar com a cara fechada assim que notar que alguns caras estão olhando para você com segundas intenções
— Vai sempre evitar brigas, sempre vai procurar conversar e manter tudo na maior paz e calma possível. Claro que, uma vez ou outra, vocês vão discutir feio, mas ele sempre vem pedir desculpas — até quando está certo
— É doido para engravidar você, não sabe exatamente o porquê, mas adora a idéia de gozar dentro — algo que você nunca deixa — e meses depois te ver com a barriguinha maior guardando um bebê que seria uma mistura sua e dele
— Seria o mais romântico possível, fazendo até cartinhas quando você disse que achava isso fofo
— Ia amar te fazer rir, sempre fazendo palhaçada para tirar um sorriso seu
— O que mais iria te atrair nele é o senso de humor e os olhos
— Irá amar tirar fotos suas, guardar elas em uma pasta especial no celular, na carteira, em porta retratos, ama registrar os momentos entre vocês
— Durante o sexo, sempre vai gostar de olhar nos seus olhos, ter a certeza de que você está gostando e vai amar ver as suas expressões enquanto mete fundo em você, te sentindo apertar o pau dele mais e mais
—Ama ser a conchinha menor e não tem vergonha de falar isso, mas nunca se nega a ser a maior
So, first of all, I love your blog. I literally love the way you deal with Yandere and Avatar!!!!-
Secondly, I don't know if it counts as a request or something, but I got to thinking a bit about Navi culture and all that.
I know that Jake and Neytiri had no problem adopting Kiri, as both adults had a special, deep connection and relationship with Grace, but I don't know how the Navi in general handle orphaning and adoption issues, as my native tribal references have an unreliable handle on orphaning (between various anthropologists they tend to contradict each other and circumstances can generate a different communal and individual response in each case).
So… going on to the Yandere and all that.
Do you think the Yandere Sully (any of them) or Yandere Navi in general (any of your choice) would react to their love interest's previous baby?
Kind of like their SO was already pregnant before they met them or they already have relatively grown children, like Tuk's age?
First of all, thank you <3 Secondly, I have tried to make this and I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: this won’t be seen from the Na’vi culture pov since I too lazy to look it up, I’ll just imagine what I think of it.
Content: firstly, any yandere Na’vi and then we have yandere Jake, yandere Neytiri, yandere aged up! Neteyam, yandere! Aged up! Lo’ak and Yandere! Aged up! Kiri + bonus! Yandere! Tsu’tey
Warnings: breeding, s/o is a person capable of getting pregnant
Headcanons of yandere Na’vi, Jake, Neytiri, Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri and Tsu’tey with an s/o who has a kid from another relationship.
Probably not too fond of the idea. But will comply if it makes you happy.
Will never see that child as theirs and sometimes it is pretty clear even though they try to hide it.
If you are widowed, they’ll try to accept that the child will always be there. Might as well make one of his own.
If you are just separated from your previous mate, the Na’vi will send your child with your mate for long periods of time. As long as he can hold it. And in those periods of time will do whatever it takes to keep you so occupied you don’t remember you have a child. Also will try to get you pregnant, so by the time your child from other mate comes back, you won’t be able to take care of it.
Pretends to protect your child during hunts and stuff, but to be honest, they wouldn’t mind if something happened, you are not in love with anyone but them, why should another person’s spawn be there with you?
Probably baby traps you even though is pretty clear you aren’t leaving. But it is also that they are really proud on having you with a baby of their own.
If it happens, that you get pregnant, the Na’vi will have favoritism for their child, obviously.
He is a manipulative yandere, as I said before. He might take many different approaches to this situation.
He could act like the father of the year and have you happy and unknowing as he treats the child with such love and care as it was one of his own. Even though, he is disgusted with the idea. That child is the living proof you your bond with other person. He will never be as overprotective as he is with one of his own, he will be tougher.
Another approach is acting all nice and sweet in front of you and then just covering the child’s basic needs. Kind of a Spider situation going on. He lets the kid be and in front of you is sweet but then he just treats the kid as the stray cat you feed once a week. Never treated wrongly but never actually part of the family. He would never mistreat the child in any physical or mental way, he might be a yandere but he ain’t no monster.
The last but not least approach, make you despise your child. This only works if you have separated from your previous mate. If you are widowed he wouldn’t do such a thing, specially since it was specified that the child is around Tuk’s age and that is pretty young.
If you separated from your previous mate, he would send the child away and then would poison your mind. Slowly but surely manipulating you into hating (or something close) your own spawn. Reminding you of the person you were previously with and painting it as a bad thing.
Also the type to give you a baby, like get you pregnant and stuff, so that your attention will go to the baby and him and not your other child. Even though you will try to keep up, he will do anything as to make your other child isolated.
Not very good in any approach if you ask me.
Not fond of the idea then, not fond of the idea now. Literally despises the kid from minute 0.
Might as well accept it if she knows you are going to stay longer if nothing happens.
Never and I mean never treats the child as one of her own, she accepts the fact that the kid is there and that’s it.
She might want for either of you to get pregnant to “bigger” the family. She is just telling a lie. She knows how much work a baby gives and that will give her time to go away from that demonic spawn of your last relationship.
If you are widowed, she might feel sad for the kid, but she still dislikes it, seeing how similar it is to you but so different at the same time.
If you separated from your previous mate (and they have been lucky enough not to be killed by Neytiri), the kid will ALWAYS end up on their place. Neytiri might even blackmail or threat your last partner just to make them stay with the child.
He is a sweetheart, even as a yandere. He will in fact treat the child as one of his own. He feels pity for the kid.
He knows how you are and he will act in consequence. If he treats the child just like one of his own, you will love him forever right?
Also, if you are widowed he will actually feel pity for the child.
If you have separated from your previous mate, he will always try to look better than them in your child’s eyes.
OBVIOUSLY, the type of step-dad who tries to make the child call him dad. Now he is with you, he is the dad. Even if the child is not his, it is yours and it makes him his.
Will have your child and you up in a pedestal and he will pamper, spoil and do anything for you guys.
Probably the type to develop yandere platonic feelings for the kid once they have been interacting. He sees the kid as a little portion of you so he must protect it.
Ngl, he will try to breed you to make you forget about the other one.
Pretends to care for it, knowing it keeps you calm. But in reality, why would he care about the only reminder that you hadn’t been his first. That reminder that there is a piece of you mixed with someone else’s before he was able to breed you.
Pretty irresponsible with the kid, same with the Jake scenario.
Probably treats it as a stray cat that is there.
If he has a child of his own with you, he wont treat the equally.
Just as Neteyam, will treat the kid as one of her own.
Probably a caring mother, posible Tsa’hìk.
Never mistreats the child in any way. She knows that it will be better for your relationship if you both are the child’s parental figures.
Teaches the kid things about Pandora.
As she is so close to Eywa, she knows the child isn’t hers biologically but it her mind, it is hers.
Only two ways around.
He will make you choose between the kid and him, but with the small twist that he is a yandere and that there isn’t actually a choice.
Or he will pretend to be a good father for your kid and will try to get you pregnant as soon as he can to breed one spawn of his own.
He needs constant reassurance and lets you know about it. That way he can guilt trip you into caring about him more.
Will always try to be better than your past mate, he will always find ways to outrun them. Talks bad about your past partner to the child. If he has to deal with this, the kid will workship him.
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