#Hello My Twenties! 2

[dawnbirdwhistle]

Mel Medarda, the 2nd Portrait (Arcane)

I wanted to draw her again from the front, and here we are :D

I didn't want to follow my reference too much, so I chose a more dramatic lighting this time - also one I haven't tried yet, so I hope it turned out well!

All I have to say, the simping is very real 😔💛💜 (and so is the brainrot OMG- like I still just wanna keep drawing them xd when I tested out some old art supplies to see whether they work or not, I made a quick doodle of Jinx and Ekko as well ahh)

I'm super happy with her this time tbh!

Exam season is still blooming, but I am doing okayish so far, so phew! I've also been drawing anatomy practices daily into my tiny sketchbook since that is something I am lacking in for now. Hopefully not long, though :D

I wish everyone a pleasant day going forward, and I hope I fed the Mel fans well enough~ 💜

[purrvaire]

good omens season 2 + text posts I have on my phone (1/?)

[andtheyreonfire]

day 2 of "i would slay so hard if every clothing store ever didn't hate fat people"

[age-of-lesbianism]

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

JO: Well, what do they look like? DOCTOR: Well I expect myself their basic form is analogous to a cephalopod. JO: What's a cephalopod? DOCTOR: An octopus. I thought you took an A-Level in science. JO: I didn't say I passed. Urgh, an octopus. DOCTOR: They manifest themselves as a disembodied, mutually telepathic intelligence. JO: But if they're disembodied, how can they hurt us? YATES: They make themselves bodies when they need them. JO: You mean like Frankenstein? - Fun quote from S8E1 for you

oh that IS fun thank you!!

[katierosefun]

i know this show isn’t totally perfect in how it handles things but man . . .

[streamofsalmon]

i wish i could forget hello my twenties just so i can rewatch it all over again.

[benevolentbones]

newcomer | spencer reid x fem!reader part 2

part 1

warnings: swearing, v mild dirty thoughts

word count: 1.3k

summary: your dad calls you on your day off

a/n: thank you so so much for all the support on my last few works, it means the world!! i love reading through all the comments! please if you have a fic request please let me know!!

it had been a few days since you dropped in to visit your dad at the bau, but your mind kept wandering back to the hazel eyed man you met.

you found his awkwardness quite adorable, and the way his face flushed when you spoke to him, made you smile.

you had heard a lot about the team over the years, so it was nice to put faces to names after your father had returned home that evening.

today was your day off, and you didn’t really have many plans, maybe you’d go and grab a coffee or take a walk around the park, who knows.

you stretched back against the plush sofa in your living room, flicking through the channels on your tv.

your phone began to chime, blasting out your ringtone. you picked it up on third ring, bringing it to your ear.

“hello?”

“y/n, are you at home?” your father questioned.

“yeah dad- i’m just watching tv at the moment, what’s up?” you sat up, scooting to the edge of the couch.

“can you do me a huge favour?”

you hummed in response “what is it?”

“in my home office, i left the latest case files- would you come to the bureau and drop them off?”

you chewed your bottom lip. on one hand, you didn’t really want to drive thirty minutes to and from your dads work, just to be there for less than five minutes. on the other, those five minutes could be spent talking or spencer reid.

“i’ll be there soon, dad.” you replied, hanging up the phone.

~

you practically raced to the bureau, cutting the usual thirty plus minute drive down to twenty three. a new record.

you clutched the case files to your side, making your way inside the building and making a b line for the bullpen.

morgan, garcia and reid were all sat around spencer’s desk, the younger man rambling on about the book he had just finished reading, which was a recommendation from penelope.

“honestly the plot could have been better- and i didn’t really like the-“ spencer was interrupted with a dig from morgan, whos eyes were glued to the elevator doors of the bullpen.

“why’d you do that ow.” spencer complained, rubbing the aching spot on his forearm. he turned his gaze to where both morgan and garcia were looking.

and there you stood. you had just stepped out of the elevator, you weren’t in the same office attire you had adorned the last time you visited the bau.

you were wearing a tight pair of black jeans that flared slightly at the leg, with a striped button down fitted shirt which rode up slightly, showing off part of your midriff.

“damn little gideon is mad fine.” morgan mumbled earning a quizzical look from spencer.

“little gideon- ew is that what you’re calling her?” penelope’s face contorted into one of disgust.

“i mean, you aren’t wrong..” she added, the blonde woman was practically undressing you with her eyes.

“guys come on- that’s a bit much don’t you think?” spencer mumbled, though his eyes did not once leave your form as you walked across the room towards gideon’s office.

“you’re just saying that because you like her, ain’t that right lover boy?” morgan cracked a smile, smacking spencer on the shoulder.

“shut up man..”

“do you really think gideon would want you dating his daughter?” derek mused.

“i mean anything is better than you..” spencer mumbled jokingly.

you reached your fathers office, balancing the files in one arm while using the other to knock against the oakwood door.

“come in.”

you pushed the door open, to reveal gideon leaning back in his desk chair, case files spread across the table. he had a telephone pressed in between his ear and his shoulder.

“hey dad- i brought the files you needed.” you smiled, shuffling over to his desk and plopping the bundle of papers onto his cluttered work space.

“thanks hon, you want to wait outside? i’ll be done in a few minutes and we can grab a coffee?”

you nodded, allowing gideon to continue his phone call. you backed out of his office, walking down the steps into the main section of the bullpen.

you scanned the room, your eyes landing on the three agents huddled around spencer’s desk.

you plucked up the courage and began to saunter over to them.

“hey reid look.” penelope whispered just loud enough for spencer to hear, immediately his head shot up, his gaze softening when he realised you were making your way over to him.

“good luck tiger.” morgan grinned, both he and garcia leaving the premises upon your arrival, after giving you a small smile.

“hey dr. reid right?” you mumbled once you reached his desk.

his eyes met yours, through his wire-framed glasses, and he nodded.

“yeah- you can call me spencer though- you’re y/n? gideon’s daughter?” he stumbled upon his words, rushing the sentences together.

you hummed in response, perching yourself against the genius’ desk.

“he’s told me a lot about you.”

“all good things i hope-“ spencer began, a slight nervousness to his voice.

this made you chuckle, “yes, all good things, i promise.”

“i hope you don’t mind keeping me company, i’m just waiting for dad to get off of the phone.” you eyed spencer, watching as he frantically neatened his desk.

“no-no not at all, i’m enjoying your company.” he mumbled out.

from the corner of his eye he could see morgan and garcia watching their interaction from the kitchenette, morgan had a cocky grin plastered onto his face and garcia held her thumbs up supportively.

spencer let out a breathy sigh, slumping down into his desk chair. he pondered for a moment, considering being forward. he didn’t want to come across as too needy or awkward, but if he was being honest with himself that’s exactly what he was.

he watched as you sat on the edge of his desk, happily swinging you legs back and forth, glancing around the bullpen.

fuck it.

“y/n?” spencer began, not being able to stop the crimson staining his cheeks.

“spencer.” you giggled.

“would you, i don’t know maybe like to go for dinner sometime- with..me?” you could sense the anxiety in his voice, the brunette avoiding your gaze as he fumbled with a pen on his desk.

you felt your cheeks heat up, and you reached over to place a hand on spencer’s arm. his eyes flickered up to look at you when he felt your touch.

“i would love to, let me give you my number.” you smiled happily, jumping from the desk.

you took the pen from spencer’s grasp, your fingers brushing against his causing a spark from the contact.

you picked up a pad of sticky notes and began scribbling down your number.

as you were doing so, gideon had left his office and was making his way towards the two of you.

“here, i’m free friday if you are.” you mumbled, passing him the paper and pen back.

“o-okay i’ll call you.” spencer’s eyes were now on gideon who had come to an abrupt stop, resting his hand on your shoulder.

“lets get going, kid.”

you nodded, shooting spencer a smile. “i’ll see you soon, dr. reid.”

and with that you had walked on ahead, gideon bringing his arms into a folded position in front of his chest.

spencer swallowed hard, feeling beads of sweat build up on his forehead.

“you want to take my daughter out?”

“uh yes, yes sir-“

agent gideon pondered for a moment, eyeing the younger man. he had worked with him for a few years, he trusted him to be sensible with you, and out of everyone he was probably the best pick.

“better you than morgan.” gideon shrugged, and with that comment he followed you out the door.

[pucksandpower]

Black Magic

Charles Leclerc x witch!Reader

Summary: famously non-superstitious Charles takes drastic measures to break the Monaco curse

Charles rubs his temples as he stares at the phone, mentally rehearsing how he’s going to convince you to meet with him. He knows it’s a long shot — from what his mother told him, you’re not exactly eager to use your … abilities, as she called them. But he’s desperate at this point after years of the Monaco curse haunting him.

He takes a deep breath and taps the call button. It rings once, twice, three times before you finally pick up with a cautious “Hello?”

“Y/N? Hi, this is Charles Leclerc. I was given your number by my mother ...” His voice trails off as an awkward silence stretches between you.

Finally you respond, sounding confused. “Pascale? But why would she ...”

Charles rushes to explain. “She said you might be able to help me with … well, with breaking a curse of sorts. One that’s been plaguing me for years at the Monaco Grand Prix.” He pauses, cringing a little at how ridiculous he sounds saying it out loud.

There’s another long pause before you let out a soft sigh. “I should’ve known this would happen eventually. Listen, I only do that kind of thing for family emergencies these days. Curses and spellwork … it’s not something I take lightly.”

“I understand,” Charles says quickly. “But you have to know what the Monaco Grand Prix means to me. It’s my home race, the most meaningful one on the calendar for me. And yet, every single year something goes wrong — mechanical failures, crashes, bad strategy calls, communication issues. It’s like I’m cursed to never win it.”

You’re silent for a moment, seeming to consider his words. “I’m aware of the … situation,” you say finally. “But even if I did agree to look into it, breaking an actual curse isn’t something that happens overnight. It would take time and effort.”

“I’ll give you anything you need — time, money, whatever it takes,” Charles insists. “Just … please. I’m desperate here. My heart can’t keep taking these kinds of blows.”

Another pause, then a resigned sigh. “Okay, fine. But you have to promise to take this seriously and listen to what I say. No skepticism, no brushing it off as some kind of joke. This is real to me.”

Relief floods through Charles. “Yes, absolutely, I promise. When can you come by? I’m staying in Monaco until the race next weekend.”

“I’ll need a little while to prepare,” you say slowly. “But … I can try to come by Tuesday? We’ll need to talk more about this in person.”

“Tuesday is perfect,” Charles agrees eagerly. “Truly, thank you for this. I’ll make sure you’re well compensated for your time.”

You let out a small huff of laughter. “You keep your championship hopes, I’ll keep my soul. We’ll call it even.”

A bemused smile crosses Charles’ face at that. “Whatever you say. I’ll see you Tuesday?”

“Yes. I’ll be there Tuesday.” You hang up abruptly, leaving Charles staring at the phone with a mixture of hope and trepidation. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into … but he’s willing to try anything at this point.

Two days later, you show up at Charles’ apartment looking rather apprehensive. He ushers you inside, eyes raking over you with obvious curiosity. You’re younger than he expected, maybe mid-twenties, with a casual air and slight frame that doesn’t exactly scream “all-powerful witch“.

Still, he tries to withhold any skepticism as promised. “Thanks for coming. Can I get you anything? Some wine, or ...”

You shake your head. “I’m fine, thanks. I’d rather just get down to business if that’s okay.”

Charles nods and you both settle onto the couch, an anticipatory silence stretching out. Finally you clear your throat. “So. Tell me more about this … curse.”

And so he does, relaying in exhaustive detail the string of unlikely disasters that have befallen him at nearly every Monaco Grand Prix since he started in Formula 2. Crashes, mechanical failures, pit stops gone wrong, you name it … it’s like the racing gods have it out for him every year on his home streets.

You listen patiently, nodding along, your expression unreadable. When he finishes, you’re quiet for a long moment before speaking. “You know curses and superstitions have existed in motorsports for decades, right? It’s a high-adrenaline, high-risk environment … prime territory for that kind of thing to take root.”

Charles frowns. “Are you saying you don’t believe me?”

“I’m not saying that.” You shake your head. “I’m just … managing expectations here. Breaking an entrenched curse, if that’s even what this is, isn’t easy. It’ll take much more than a couple of days of spellwork.”

He lets out a frustrated breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. “So you’re telling me you can’t help.”

“I didn’t say that.” You eye him levelly. “I’m saying this is going to require time, patience, and an open mind from you. If you’re willing to put in that kind of commitment, then I’ll do what I can. But you have to go into this knowing it might not work.”

Charles is silent for a long moment, weighing his options. Finally he nods. “Okay. You’re right, I’ll stop being skeptical and doubting this. I’m ready to fully commit, whatever that takes.”

A small smile flits across your face and you nod. “Alright then. I’ll need to gather some supplies first, do you have anything personal I can use? Something meaningful, something that represents your driving?”

Charles scrambles up to rummage through his drawers, finally emerging with a battered red fireproof racing glove, handing it over to you. “Will this work? My godfather gave it to me when he first started teaching me to kart.”

You take it with a nod, turning it over in your hands. “It’s perfect. I’ll need to attune it and prepare a few … components.” You glance up at him. “This may take me a day or two. But after that, I can try to get a sense of what we’re dealing with.”

He nods, feeling that flicker of hope rekindle in his chest. “Sounds good. Let me know if you need anything else.”

You rise, slipping the glove into your bag. “I will. And Charles?” You hesitate, looking almost nervous for the first time since you arrived. “I know we’ve only just met, but … I want you to understand how serious I’m taking this. Messing with forces like curses … it’s not something I do lightly. If I can’t help in the end, it’s not for lack of trying, okay?”

Something about your sincere tone puts Charles at ease and he nods. “I know. Thank you for this … really.”

A shy smile ghosts across your lips before you slip out, leaving Charles alone with his doubts and hopes alike. Over the next couple of days, he tries to distract himself with race prep and strategy meetings, but his mind keeps drifting back to you and your mysterious preparations. He’s not sure whether to feel hopeful or just plain foolish for entertaining all of this curse nonsense.

Finally, Thursday afternoon rolls around and you arrive once more at his door, looking oddly serene. You accept his offered glass of wine this time as you settle on the couch, clutching the battered racing glove and a few other strange items.

“Okay,” you say, taking a fortifying breath. “I’ve done what I can to attune myself to your energy and prepare. I should be able to at least get a sense now of what we’re dealing with.”

Charles nods, feeling an anxious flutter in his chest as you close your eyes, seeming to slip into some kind of trance-like state. The seconds tick by, tension building in the air around you. Just when he’s about to break the silence, your eyes fly open with a gasp.

“Wow,” you breathe out, looking utterly stunned. “This is … wow.”

“What?” Charles prods urgently. “What did you see?”

You shake your head, almost looking scared now. “I’ve never encountered anything like this. The sheer scale, the power … Charles, this isn’t just some simple bad luck curse. This is dark, powerful magic rooted over years and years. Maybe even generations.”

A leaden feeling sinks into the pit of Charles’ stomach at your ominous words. “So you’re saying you can’t break it?”

“I didn’t say that.” You draw in a steadying breath. “But it’s not going to be easy. Or quick. This is going to take serious ritual work over an extended period of time. I’ll need more supplies, maybe some help from others. It’s … a huge undertaking.”

You look up at Charles, expression grave. “But I think I can do it. If you’re willing to fully commit and see this through, no matter how long it takes or what I need from you, then I’ll put everything I have into breaking this curse.”

Charles stares at you for a long moment, feeling the weight of what you’re saying. This is so much bigger than he ever imagined. Part of him wants to run from the sheer enormity of it all.

But then he pictures it — finally winning his home race after all these years, the crowd roaring as he drinks in the euphoric feeling. No more bad luck, no more disasters clouding his joy. Just pure triumph.

His jaw sets in determination as he meets your eyes. “Whatever it takes. I’m in.”

A slow smile spreads across your face and you nod. “Okay then. We’ll get started right away. This may get … intense at times. But I’ll be right here with you every step of the way.”

“Thank you,” Charles says fervently. “Truly, thank you for taking this on.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” you reply, something sparking in your eyes. “We’ve got work to do.”

And just like that, you dive into preparation mode — making lists, sending messages, gathering spell ingredients and components that have Charles raising his eyebrows more than once. He tries to follow along as best he can, but it’s like a foreign language to him.

After a while, he can’t help but ask. “So … did you always know you could do this kind of thing? The witchcraft, I mean?”

You pause, considering his question. “It’s a family tradition, passed down. My grandmother started teaching me from a very young age. But I’ll be honest … I never fully embraced it until recently.”

Charles feels himself grow curious. “What changed your mind?”

A strange look crosses your face and you’re quiet for a moment before replying. “My grandmother was ill. The doctors had … given up, more or less. So in desperation, I tried to help the only way I knew how. And it … worked, somehow. After that, it was hard to keep denying what I could do.”

“Wow,” Charles says softly. “That’s amazing. I can’t even imagine ...”

You shrug, suddenly looking almost shy. “It’s a lot, I know. Probably hard to wrap your head around. Which is why I appreciate you being so open-minded about this.”

Charles gives you a crooked smile. “Well, I’m relying on you here. I figure I should at least return the favor and be open-minded.”

A surprising laugh escapes you and you shake your head in amusement. “You’ve got a point there.”

A surprisingly comfortable silence lapses between you, broken only when you glance at your watch. “Alright, enough waiting around. We should get back to work if we want to be ready before race day.”

Charles feels nervous anticipation flutter in his chest again. “You really think we can pull this off that quickly?”

“We have to try,” you reply, already focused and in work mode once more. “Just be prepared … this isn’t going to be easy for either of us.”

Charles swallows hard and nods. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

Over the next several days, Charles is swept up in a whirlwind of strange rituals and practices — chanting, incantations, symbolic offerings, things he never could’ve imagined before this week. You lead him through it all with a calm patience, guiding him every step of the way.

It’s completely draining, leaving him wrung out and exhausted every night … but he can’t deny the noticeable shift he feels with each passing day too. It’s almost like a weight, a cloud of dread he’s carried for years, is slowly dissipating. He tries not to get his hopes up, but it’s hard … especially with the way your face glows with quiet pride whenever your eyes meet his.

Finally, the night before the race arrives. You’ve worked practically around the clock except for when Charles had to leave for free practice and qualifying, both of you barely sleeping or eating as you poured everything into breaking the curse.

As the sun sets over Monaco’s famed harbors and hills, you finally seem to pause, taking a deep breath. “Okay, I think … I think that’s everything we can do for now.”

Charles stares at you with a mixture of hope and trepidation. “You mean … it’s done? The curse is broken?”

You exhale slowly, looking suddenly drained but at peace. “As much as it can be, at least. The groundwork is laid, the ritual completed. But actually severing that kind of ancient tie ...” You shake your head. “We’ll have to see what happens tomorrow. I’ve done everything I can.”

Relief and gratitude wash over Charles as he reaches out to grasp your hand impulsively. “Thank you,” he says fervently. “For all of this … I can’t even begin to express how much it means.”

You seem surprised by his emotional outburst for a moment before squeezing his hand back gently. “You’re very welcome, Charles. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure I had it in me at first. But you put so much faith in me. That meant everything.”

He holds your gaze, feeling an unexpected sense of connection pass between you. So much has happened in such a short span of time — he came to you a skeptic, but now he feels like he’s been through a transformative experience. And you … you’ve put your entire being into helping him, far beyond any reasonable expectation.

The air almost seems to crackle with tension as you both search each other’s eyes. Then, as if drawn by an unseen force, you start leaning towards each other infinitesimally. Charles’ heart kicks up a staccato rhythm as your faces inch closer together ...

Until finally, your lips meet in a soft, almost hesitant kiss. It’s achingly gentle and sweet, at odds with the intensity thrumming underneath. When you finally part, Charles feels almost dazed, his heart pounding.

“Wow,” he breathes out, unable to tear his eyes away from yours. “That was ...”

“Yeah,” you murmur back, looking equally affected. “It was.”

A silence stretches out as you simply gaze at each other. So much has passed between you in these short days — an entire lifetime’s worth of intimacy and connection. It’s overwhelming and exciting all at once.

Finally, Charles seems to shake himself out of the dazed reverie. Clearing his throat, he says gruffly, “Anyway, um … thank you again. I should probably try to get some rest before tomorrow.”

“Right, of course,” you respond quickly, flushing slightly. “The race. Yes, that’s … probably a good idea.”

An awkward pause hangs in the air before Charles blurts out, “You’ll be there though, right? At the race, I mean? As my guest?”

A slow smile spreads across your face and you nod. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He returns your smile, feeling lighter than he has in years. “Okay, good. That’s really good.”

With that, and one last lingering look, you gather your things and slip out, leaving Charles alone with his whirling thoughts and cautiously rising hope. He has no idea what tomorrow will bring — triumph or despair. But for the first time in his life, he feels like he’s not facing it alone.

As he climbs into bed that night, his mind keeps drifting back to that unexpected, electric kiss and the connection you seemed to share, if only for a moment. He can’t stop replaying it, the softness of your lips, the warmth of your skin ...

With a groan, Charles rolls over, trying in vain to shut off his thoughts. He needs to rest. Tomorrow is everything he’s been working towards for years — his best hope at finally ending the Monaco curse. And you’ll be there, your faith and magic bound to his dream.

Finally, Charles manages to drift into a restless sleep, his unconscious mind swirling with visions of chequered flags and your smiling face in the crowd. Whatever happens, he knows nothing will ever be the same after tomorrow.

***

The next morning dawns bright and clear, a perfect Monaco day. As Charles gets ready to head to the circuit, he can’t shake the anxious flutter in his chest.

This is it. His moment of truth.

Just before he’s about to leave, a soft knock comes at the door. When he opens it, you’re standing there looking almost as nervous as he feels.

“Hey,” you say with a small smile. “Thought I’d come wish you luck in person. And … give you one last thing for the race.”

You hold out a small silk pouch which Charles takes curiously. Opening it up, he pulls out the same battered racing glove he’d given you days ago, now embroidered with strange runic symbols.

“I imbued it with every protection ritual and good luck charm I could think of,” you explain. “As an extra boost on top of the work we’ve already done. Maybe it’ll help settle those pre-race jitters too.”

Charles feels a wave of affection crest over him as he looks at the glove, then back up at you. “You’re incredible, you know that?” He says softly. “Truly, I don’t know how to thank you enough for everything.”

You duck your head shyly, but he can see the pleased flush on your cheeks. “You don’t need to thank me. Just go out there and get that win you’ve been waiting for, okay?”

“I will,” Charles promises fervently. He pauses, then seems to make a split-second decision, stepping forward to cup your face in his hands. “And when I do … I’m taking you out for the biggest celebration Monaco has ever seen.”

Your eyes widen slightly, but you give a breathless little nod. “It’s a date then.”

The corner of Charles’ mouth quirks up. “It’s a date,” he echoes, letting his thumb brush over your cheekbone lingeringly before forcing himself to step back. “I should get going. But I’ll see you out there later?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you confirm, looking almost as flustered as he suddenly feels. “Good luck, Charles.”

He shoots you one last, blazing look before tearing himself away, hurrying out to his waiting car. The entire drive to the circuit, his heart is pounding wildly in his chest. He can’t decide if it’s just pre-race adrenaline or something more … something sparked by you and that searing, promising look you gave him.

By the time he arrives, gets into his race suit and fireproofs, and settles into the cramped cockpit of his Ferrari, Charles is wound up like a tightly-coiled spring. His eyes keep drifting over to the embroidered glove still clutched in his hand, feeling the weight of everything it represents — your devotion, your magic, and the hope of finally breaking free from years of heartbreak.

As the cars are wheeled out onto the grid and the pre-race festivities begin, Charles scans the garage until his eyes finally land on you. You’re standing with a perfect viewpoint, eyes already locked on him, and when you catch his gaze you mouth “Good luck“ with an encouraging smile.

A determination like he’s never felt before surges through Charles’ veins. He’s going to win this race, not just for himself but for you too after everything you’ve sacrificed. Giving a firm nod, he slips the glove beneath his suit and grips the steering wheel tightly, watching the lights flick from red.

And as they finally go green and the cars roar away, Charles leans into the first turn in pure focus and exhilaration. For once, his mind is clear of any doubt or dread about the Monaco curse. He can only think about racing, about achieving his dream ...

And afterwards, celebrating that dream coming true with you.

***

As the deliriously happy celebrations continue around him at Monza, Charles can barely catch his breath. The euphoria of a hard-fought victory is still pulsing through his veins, that cherished feeling never getting old no matter how many times he experiences it.

He’s in the middle of accepting congratulations from his mechanics when he sees a Sky Sports reporter, making a beeline for him with her microphone in hand. Trying to tamp down his giddy smile slightly, he turns to face her.

“Charles! Huge congratulations on another amazing win today,” the reporter gushes as soon as she reaches him. “You’re really hitting your stride this season, what a comeback from the early struggles.”

“Thank you. Yes, the team has been doing incredible work to get me a car capable of winning,” Charles replies graciously. “I’m just thrilled to be able to deliver for them.”

“And for the fans too, who have been utterly captivated watching this gripping title battle unfold,” she continues. “Speaking of which, I have to ask — the viewers have been flooding us with one question in particular recently. What’s the story behind those little symbols that keep popping up on your race suit collar? Some kind of good luck charms maybe?”

At the mention of the embroidered symbols, Charles feels his lips quirking up into a small, unconscious smile. He should have known someone would eventually ask about them — the fans on social media have certainly been speculating endlessly.

“Ah, you spotted those?” He says lightly. “Well, it’s um … it’s actually something my girlfriend does for me before every race weekend.”

The reporter’s eyes widen with obvious interest, scenting a prime bit of gossip. “Your girlfriend? We had no idea you were dating someone, Charles! Do tell us more.”

Charles lets out a slightly self-conscious chuckle, feeling the tips of his ears going pink. He’s intensely private about his personal life, preferring to keep you out of the spotlight as much as possible. But the story behind the symbols is too meaningful to brush off entirely.

“Yes, well my girlfriend prefers to stay out of the public eye,” he explains carefully. “Let’s just say she comes from a rather … unique background and heritage. She has certain talents and practices that are very important to her.”

The reporter blinks at him in obvious confusion. “Wait, is she some kind of … psychic or something?”

“Not exactly,” Charles demurs, fighting back an amused grin at the mental image. “More like … well, I suppose you could call her a witch, of sorts.”

A shocked silence falls over the surrounding reporters who have tuned into their exchange. For a long beat, no one seems to know how to react to such an unexpected revelation. Charles doesn’t think he’s ever seen the media look so bemused before.

Finally, the reporter seems to find her voice again. “A … witch?” She repeats slowly. “As in, like, cauldrons and broomsticks and the whole bit?”

Charles lets out a full laugh at that. “Well, not quite like that, no. But she does practice certain … rituals and magics, let’s say. Most of which, I’ll admit, still seems completely mad to me.”

The reporter’s expression is one of fascination now as she leans in closer with her microphone. “And she does these rituals and … magics ... for you? Before races?”

“Exactly,” Charles confirms with a nod. “She adds protective symbols and charms onto things like my race suit, my helmet, sometimes other items depending on the ritual. It’s her way of looking out for me, of sending some extra luck and security my way on race weekends.”

He pauses, his smile softening unconsciously as he thinks about you. “I’ll be honest, I was pretty skeptical of it all at first. The whole concept of witchcraft and curses seemed ... well, rather far-fetched, you know? But she’s been so devoted to her practices, so sincere in her beliefs about the positive energies she wants to send my way … how could I not start to believe in it too?”

The media seems to be hanging on his every word now, caught up in this bizarre but undeniably romantic tale. The reporter lets out a wistful sigh. “Well, it’s clearly been working like a charm so far this season! Maybe the rest of the grid had better start looking into getting their own race day witches on board.”

A ripple of laughter spreads through the group at that as Charles shakes his head in amusement. “Yes, I can see that becoming very popular around the paddock.”

“So does she come to all the races then, your witch girlfriend?” Another reporter pipes up curiously. “Is she wandering around doing spellwork in the backrooms?”

“Oh, no no, nothing like that,” Charles chuckles. “She prefers to keep things … subtle, let’s say. Just the little symbols and charms. Though she is here today actually.”

The reporter’s eyes light up like she’s just struck journalistic gold. “She is? And does she get to celebrate with you after wins like this?”

A soft, almost shy smile plays across Charles’ lips as he nods. “Yes, whenever her schedule allows she tries to come to the races. And we’ll definitely be celebrating together tonight, just us.”

He gets a slightly far-off look in his eyes, seeming to get lost in the thought for a moment. The reporters watching on collectively hold their breaths, waiting for him to divulge more juicy details about this mysterious girlfriend.

Finally, Charles seems to catch himself, clearing his throat. “But anyway, I should really get back to the team to share this incredible day with them properly.”

The reporter makes one last attempt. “Oh, go on, just give us her name at least? Enquiring minds want to know about this charming race day witch of yours!”

Charles throws her an apologetic look. “You know I have to protect her privacy. All I can say is … she’s pretty remarkable. And she’ll probably hex me if I start giving out too many details about her!”

Laughs and groans of disappointment rise up from the reporters at being denied the full scoop. But they know better than to push Charles too far. With some final shouted congratulations, they gradually disperse, no doubt rushing off to publish their articles about the shocking revelation of Charles Leclerc’s witchy girlfriend.

As the small crowd clears out, Charles feels a light touch on his elbow and turns to find you standing there, eyes sparkling with amusement and fondness.

“Well, you’ve certainly given the paddock something to gossip about now,” you tease lightly. “A charming race day witch, am I?”

Charles makes a show of rolling his eyes, even as his cheeks flush a bit at your teasing. “What was I supposed to tell them? You know how much I hate discussing our personal lives with the media.”

“I know, I know.” You rise on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’m just giving you a hard time. I thought it was … sweet, actually. How you talked about my practices.”

Charles’ expression softens as he gazes down at you. Ever since that electric evening in Monaco when you first worked your magic on the infamous curse (and him), your relationship has deepened into something truly beautiful. At first, he admits he was still somewhat skeptical of the mystical rituals and protective charms you claimed to do for him.

But race after race, as the victories kept mounting with no traces of bad luck or mishaps, he’s become nearly as devoted a believer as you. And it goes far beyond just race day superstitions now. Seeing the depth of your spirituality, your connection to unseen mystical forces, has opened his eyes in so many ways.

He pulls you flush against him, cupping your face tenderly as he murmurs, “I meant every word. What you do … it means everything to me, you know that right? Whether the magic is real or not, your rituals give me a sense of peace and security I’ve never felt before.”

You gaze up at him with those captivating eyes that never fail to make his heart stutter. “I know. And that’s why I’ll never stop doing them for you. You make me feel … connected. Vital. Like my gifts can actually make a positive impact, instead of being some weird family quirk.”

Charles lets his thumb gently trace the delicate line of your cheekbone, drinking in every detail of your beloved face. “They do make an impact, mon cœur. Probably more than either of us can comprehend.”

He draws you into a lingering kiss, one that sends delicious sparks of heat ricocheting through his body. When you finally break apart, you’re both smiling and slightly flushed.

“Mmm, I should really start charging the team for services rendered, if that’s the payment plan,” you joke breathlessly.

Charles arches one eyebrow at you. “Trust me, they would go broke in a week trying to keep up.”

You let out a full laugh at that, the musical sound making his heart swell. He loves this — the moments of playful intimacy and banter, feeling so incredibly grounded and content with you. Before you came into his life, such tender domesticity always seemed like an impossible dream given his lifestyle.

Pulling you close once more, he nuzzles into the soft skin of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent. “Let’s go home,” he murmurs huskily. “I have a victory to properly celebrate … and I require your particular skills again tonight.”

You shiver slightly in his arms, drawing back just enough to fix him with a heated look. “My skills are always at your service. Shall we summon a portal or ...”

He huffs out a laugh at your playful tone, secretly loving when you tease him about the more fanciful aspects of witchcraft. “Why don’t we just take the car for now? No need to alarm the locals by apparating in the middle of the paddock.”

Chuckling, you lean up to steal one more lingering kiss before murmuring, “Deal. Now let’s get out of here before that reporter comes sniffing around for more gossip.”

Taking his hand, you start leading him away from the crowded pit lane and back toward the nearby motorhomes. With every step, Charles can feel the thrum of excitement building in his veins, fueled by much more than just the adrenaline of his race win.

There’s a steady warmth pulsing deep within him now, a sense of gratitude and contentment that suffuses his very soul. Ever since that fateful day in Monaco when he let you into his life, everything has shifted into vibrant new focus.

He’s never been superstitious, not really — he prides himself on being practical, logical, leaving little room for spiritual or religious beliefs. And yet … with you, a whole unseen mystical world has opened up to him in the most extraordinary way. Even if he still doesn’t fully understand the intricacies of your rituals and practices, he knows with certainty how they make him feel.

Protected. Centered. Empowered.

Loved, more deeply than he’s ever experienced.

As you make your way hand-in-hand through the chaos of post-race celebrations, trading giddy grins and teasing jokes, Charles feels it all shining outward from his very core — past the fame, the accomplishments, the never-ending pressures of being an elite athlete. With you by his side, he’s found a serenity and sense of self far beyond what any championship could provide.

So tonight, as you cuddle together and let your energies flow over him in that uniquely intimate way, he’ll pour every ounce of devotion and love he feels right back into you. Because in the end, that’s the most powerful force of all — one that transcends even the wildest of your spells and charms.

As long as you two are bound together on this path, no force in the universe could ever curse him again.

[latenightdaydreams]

Thinking about werewolf König. Maybe you're new to town, and he's just like, yep, that one's mine.

WereWolf!König x New!Girl

MDNI🔞

Part 2

Master List✍🏽

>cw:fem/afab, werewolf, forceful, oral, p in v, knotty

1.9k word count

🐺

.

.

König has lived in the same town for the last twenty years. He knows everyone by name and smell, blending in seamlessly, he appears as if he is like any other human. Living in such a small town has made it easier to hide away from others. However, today when one his weekly grocery run to the local store; a sweet smell lingers in the air.

He swallows hard and tries to act casual as his eye darts everywhere trying to pinpoint the new smell. As he enters the store, the smell seems to only grow stronger, nearly making a growl slip from his chest. That’s when his pale blue eyes lock on to you; a bright smiling face standing behind the cash register. It takes everything in him to control his primal side that is crying out to just take you now.

König averts his gaze and just continues to shop as he normally would. No matter how hard he may try, he cannot escape your smell that fills his nostrils. You’re already consuming him completely and he doesn’t even know your name. Once his things are gathered, he approaches the register, feeling as if he’s stalking prey.

“König!” The voice of the store owner interrupts his thoughts. 

“Hey, Frank.” König tries his best to maintain a calm demeanor with you so close.

“It’s good to see you!” Frank holds his hand out to shake with König. He looks over his shoulder to you at the counter. “The new cashier is my wife’s niece. She’s new so be nice.” He nudges König playfully.”

König smiles and nods while his eyes shift back to you. You’re not paying attention to them as you help the next customer in line. The way you move is hypnotic, making it difficult for him to even remain in this conversation.

“Don’t worry about me, Frank. I’ll be nice.” So nice.

Frank chuckles and nods, “Well, I have to go help unload a truck. It was good to see you.”

König nods and watches Frank walk away before turning his gaze back to you. He stands in line behind a mother and child. The closer he gets the more intoxicating it all is. All he can envision is having you under him as he buries his face into your neck, claiming you as his mate.

“Hello!” You greet him as he walks up in line, placing his items down for you to scan.

“Hallo, I’m König. I’m friends with your uncle.”

“Oh! It’s nice to meet you. I’m y/n.” You smile at him, noticing how intense his blue eyes seem to be.

“Beautiful name. How long are you staying?”

“Oh, I don’t know yet. Maybe until the new year?”

That’s not enough. The holidays are only a few months away, he couldn’t possibly find and lose his mate in only a matter of a few months. Instantly, his mind begins to speed run ideas on how to get you to stay here, stay with him.

“Well, it is a lovely area. Hopefully you fall in love.” König smiles at you, allowing his eyes to drift down to your body in that apron wrapped tightly around your curvy form. “Are you staying with Frank?”

“Yeah, I am. I couldn’t find anything to rent, only buy.”

“Ja, there isn’t much real estate around here.” He chuckles as he watches you bag his items.

König reaches into his pocket and grabs his wallet, getting cash out and handing it to you. Your much smaller cold hands caress his rough warm hands. The way you feel so impossibly soft only tempts him even more. There is no way he can let you go, you’re his.

“It was nice to meet you, y/n. I hope to see you around.”

“Thanks.” You say back in a cheery tone, fidgeting with your hair slightly as you lock eyes with him.

As König turns to walk out of the store he takes one more deep breath, wishing to savor this scent forever. With a sting in his heart, he walks away from you and leaves back to his car. For a moment he lingers, deciding what to do before pulling away and driving home.

The rest of your shift goes on as normal, nothing really eventful happening. It’s your second day on the job and everyone that you’ve met has been extremely kind. Your uncle Frank leaves you to close up by yourself, he knows that you’re responsible enough to handle that. By the time the store closes the sun has set.

You grab your bag from the locker in the back before leaving with the store key in hand. As you leave, you lock the door and turn to walk towards your car. Your eyes are drawn to the clear night sky. The moon is bright and illuminating the sky as the stars shimmer brightly; it’s such a beautiful calm night. Then you hear a twig snap.

You freeze, looking out into the darkness towards the trees. Being a city dweller, the darkness can be incredibly intimidating to you. Uncle Frank promised you that any deadly animal has been hunted out by previous generations, so if anything, it’s probably a raccoon. Right?

Not wanting to stick around to find out, you walk forward quickly with your car key in your hands and ready to get in. The second you turn the corner of the small building your eyes lock onto glowing yellow eyes. You freeze as your mind attempts to make sense of what it’s seeing. A low growl emanates from the creature triggering your fight or flight.

Quick on your feet, you run forward towards your car. That’s when the creature took off too, directing itself right at you. A scream leaves you as adrenaline crashes over your body, unable to remain calm.

König can’t help himself as he charges at you. His claws grab onto the fabric of your purse as you open your door. He throws you off balance, causing you to fall into your passenger seat on your knees. Another low growl leaves him as he wraps his hands around your waist holding you there.

You flail and scream at first until you realize that you aren’t being attacked. Not only that, but the hands are hands not paws. Is this a wolf? Or a sick joke?

“Please don’t hurt me.” You whisper, hoping whatever it is will understand.

König understands, and he isn’t going to. Not intentionally at least. He presses his cold snout into the crook of your neck and takes a deep inhale, letting his tongue slip out and lick your soft flesh. The smell of arousal hits his nose; you’re actually enjoying this.

He pulls back and begins to pull at your pants, not caring that his sharp claws tear and rip the fabric as he does so. There is only one thing on his mind and he needs it. Only surprised and panicked sounds leave you, yet you aren’t doing much to stop him. He wonders if you know that you belong to him, if you can feel it too.

You feel the night's cold air breeze across your bare bottom as he tears your bottoms off completely. Looking over your shoulder you finally get a good look at the creature. The realization makes you feel as if you’re going to faint, this can’t truly be happening. This man…wolf? The word werewolf of course comes to mind but that just seems too ridiculous.

König sniffs down your body, leaving chills in his wake as his cold nose presses against different parts of your body. He pushes you forward and he drops his face lower towards your supple ass and wet pussy. Eagerly, he presses his nose between your legs. You let out a loud gasp as he continues to breathe you in deeply. His tongue comes out and laps across your core, tasting you.

Your fingers dig into the cushion of your passenger seat as your legs shake from the feeling of his tongue. His hands grab on to your ass, spreading your cheeks apart to give himself more room. You can feel his tongue slip into your entrance and wiggle around as your eyes close tightly. It feels wrong, but you can’t help but to give into how amazing it is.

When he pulls back there is a small line of spit connecting the tip of his tongue to you still. He goes back in for a few more tastes before mounting you. His hands press on your middle back, forcing you to arch your back more as his massive and erect cock desperately seeks your cunt.

Once König feels himself lineup, he thrust forward into you. A low huff leaves him as he feels his cock bully itself past your tight walls. You wrap around him so perfectly that he can’t control himself. He pulls back and slams into you even harder this time, causing you to wince in pain from his 13 inch cock rams into your cervix wall. While he is aware you can’t take him, he sure as hell is going to try and fit himself in fully.

You cry out of a mixture of pain and ecstasy as his heavy furry balls slap against your puffy pussy. The sensation is almost too much causing your body to tense and tingles shoot in different directions. Pathetic little mewls leave you with every thrust. Not wanting to give into this pleasure, you try to pull yourself up only for him to slam you back against the seat.

“Stay.” König growls in a raspy voice.

Your walls flutter in an attempt to adjust to his size, but it’s impossible when he doesn’t allow you a moment of rest. His sharp claws begin to dig into your skin as he grows more eager to claim you. His build up is approaching as his knot swells.

The heavy weight of his body rests on yours and you can feel his cold nose brush up against your neck. One of his clawed hands pulls your head to the side to allow himself room to bite down on the sensitive flesh. You gasp, not expecting the feeling of his sharp canines sinking into you. König goes deep enough to leave a scar and so that you can’t try to move away from what is going to come next.

König thrust into you a few more times before holding on to your hips harder than before, not letting up the tension from his hips. His cock is shoved fully in you, making you lose your arch from the pain of being filled. You wiggle uncomfortably for a moment before you feel yourself almost tear. One of your legs kicks out as you clench down tightly on the new feeling. König moans, feeling you actually take all of him. His cock begins to throb, spilling all of his seed deep inside of you.

“It- it's too much!” You cry out but your pleas are useless, he can’t pull out. The pain from his teeth in your neck is basically nonexistent at this point. It feels like losing your virginity all over again.

König only hums in response and grinds into your once more. You respond by whimpering, getting your hint to just try to relax and take it. Tears form at the edge of your eyes and fall down. The sex was orgasmic, but this pain is absolutely terrible.

The next morning you wake up in your own bed, confused. The last thing you remember from last time was…well the sex. Was it truly all a dream? How did you even make it home? You pull the blankets off of yourself and move your legs to stand. That's when a shooting pain travels from your crotch traveling down your legs.

Fuck…

Part 2

[musaslullaby]

Being a future bride is torture

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: The wedding preparations are starting, and fans believe they’ve officially figured out who the princess is dating.

Face claim: People on Pinterest and Charles Leclerc.

Warning: Fluff, Instagram AU.

A/N: Maybe there will be a third part, i don't know.

Masterlist

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸/

Ynofficial

Description: I’m so honored to introduce you to my future wife.

Liked by charles_leclerc, kellypiquet, and other 6.366.362.

imrebecca: I can’t wait for the big day, I love you so much.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: I love you too.

imrebecca: No, I love you more. ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: And I love you even more.

charles_leclerc: Please, stop.

georgerussell63: Don’t be jealous!

user45: Are the Ferrari WAG and Red Bull WAG best friends?

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: Exactly, baby.

04_81: Aww, how cute!

carlossainz55: Rebecca is the most beautiful woman in the world.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: Mine.

imrebecca: Hey, the annoying princess is beautiful too.

charles_leclerc: I can confirm that.

francisca.cgomes: Don’t leave out my little star.

carlossainz55: Let me rephrase: these two girls are the most beautiful women in the world.

carmenmmundt: Much better.

lilymhe: We’re watching you, Carlos.

maxverstappen1: Can I have the number of the girl in the red dress?

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: Stop it, you're making me blush.

user56: They already act like a married couple.

Ynofficial: Married for twenty years.

lan_: So cute!

maxie_: I wonder where Kelly is right now.

Ynofficial: In the likes.

op81: Do you think they’re on good terms?

04_81: Rumor has it on Messenger that they had a fight.

ynqueen: Maybe.

Ynofficial

Description: We’ve picked the date but are still missing the location. We might end up getting married in the streets.

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxvertappen1, and other 7.766.222

maxverstappen1: The streets of Monaco do have a certain charm.

Ynofficial: With the circuit in the background.

imrebecca: Let’s get married on a yacht! ❤️ Like to author

landonorris: Please no.

georgerussell63: No, please, otherwise Lando might throw up on me.

Ynofficial: Seems like an extra reason to do it.

charles_leclerc: We’ve figured out that Yn loves sunsets.

lilymhe: You’re just figuring that out now?

carmenmmundt: We’ve known for a while.

Ynofficial: Charles, you should be ashamed.

yourbrother: Actually, I didn’t know this either.

Ynofficial: I’d kick you out of the house.

yourbrother: But the house isn’t yours.

Ynofficial: I’ll ask Mom to do it. We all know who the favorite child is.

yourbrother: That’s not true.

Ynofficial: You can leave crying now.

user32: If you ever listen to us, Yn, I like the second location.

❤️ Like to author

race_: It gives off Rapunzel vibes. ❤️ Like to author

f1_: I can totally see Yn as Rapunzel. ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: I’d need to grow my hair and eat a magic flower.

user21: I love you, Yn. ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: Love you too.

user21: I’m dying.

Ynofficial: Hold on, I’ll catch you.

Imrebecca

Description: A glass of wine while we wait for Yn.

Liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and other 8,483,939.

Ynofficial: I won’t be satisfied with the next 20 dresses either.

kellypiquet: They all look beautiful on you, darling. ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: Thanks for your patience, hello Kelly.

user43: Wait, didn’t these two hate each other?

maxie_: I’m so confused now.

1_11: Maybe we got everything wrong.

mad_max: Impossible, she’s with Max.

cl16: And you invite his ex to pick out a wedding dress? ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: Good observation.

user67: Yn, we can’t take this anymore.

user21: Stop messing with us.

Ynofficial: Why should I stop? I’m having fun.

francisca.cgomes: Your face doesn’t look happy at all.

Ynofficial: I still feel too much like a princess.

imrebecca: Off to the next boutique!

lilymhe: I’ll join as soon as I can. ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: I’ll wait for you.

Ynlife: You’re gorgeous, Yn.

Ynqueen_: It’s so strange seeing Yn so elegant.

Ynofficial: It feels weird to me too.

maxverstappen1: Can I suggest a tighter dress?

❤️ Like to author

charles_leclerc: Since when are you a fashion expert?

Ynofficial: Since when do you have the right to comment on my posts?

charles_leclerc: Your brother gave me his blessing.

user45: Poor Charles.

charles_: What do you mean, blessing?

Ynqueenofworld: New couple: Yn and Charles!

charles_leclerc

Description: Elegant men, baby.

Liked by maxverstappen1, Ynofficial, and other 6.862.261.

user32: Charles, no smoking!

Ynofficial: No one will want to kiss you after that.

charles_leclerc: I know someone who would.

Ynofficial: I think you’re wrong.

charlie: Are they flirting?

vroom: No, they’re not.

race_: Yn, what are you doing? You’re getting married!

04_81: Esteban’s proud face though.

lan_: I love the pink suit!

charles_: Can we talk about the pattern on Charles’s shirt?

georgerussell63: Men in tuxedos!

lewishamilton: Never seen them so elegant.

landonorris: Max’s casual photo is hilarious.

estebanocon: Looks like he’s tampering with Charles’s car brakes.

maxverstappen1: Who said I wasn’t?

Ynofficial: I’m surprised you didn’t crash since Charles was driving.

estebanocon: We came close.

carlossainz55: Charles can’t drive at normal speed.

charles_leclerc: You’re exaggerating.

user67: Max trying to get rid of the guy in love with his wife.

maxie_: Charles, back off!

ynqueen: Can’t believe they’re getting married soon!

max1__: Neither can I.

11_1_: Can’t wait!

f1star_: Guys, help! We’re not understanding anything Max is with Yn?

estebanocon: Max is laughing.

francisca.cgomes: So is Yn.

Ynofficial

Description: I didn’t think planning a wedding would be so difficult.

Liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and other 8,483,939.

francisca.cgomes: That’s why I brought you on vacation.

❤️ Like to author

lilymhe: You see Yn looking relaxed, but she’s super anxious inside.

Ynofficial: That’s not true!

kellypiquet: I found you at 2 PM looking for ways to decorate the restaurant.

carmenmmundt: Sweetie, there’s no shame in admitting you’re anxious about this. You’re with us now, away from Monaco and your fiancé, just enjoy it. ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: I hate to admit it, but you’re right, Carmen.

georgerussell63: Not fair, girls!

landonorris: We want to come too.

Ynofficial: Sorry, but no boys allowed.

carlossainz55: I don’t trust leaving all of you together alone.

charles_leclerc: Girls, I want Yn back home in one piece.

imrebecca: Not even a scratch! ❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: I have my personal bodyguard.

maxverstappen1: Don’t drink too much.

Ynofficial: You’re not here, so I’ll do whatever I want.

yourbrother: You should listen to him for once.

Ynofficial: Don’t ruin our vacation!

user45: How cute, they all want to protect Yn.

charles_: You need some rest, girl.

❤️ Like to author

Ynofficial: Being a future bride is torture.

maxie_: Oops, Max is going to be mad!

Ynofficial: Leave him alone, he’ll calm down eventually.

Yn_max: I find it so funny that Kelly is just relaxing on a lounge chair.

Ynofficial: Not for long, though.

francisca.cgomes: Let’s say she had her share of fun.

op81: Tell us more!

lan_: We need to know!

kellypiquet: They threw a bottle of ice-cold wine at me.

Ynofficial: Sorry, but I won’t apologize!

user21: Oh my god!

f1world: Poor thing!

race: It must have been fun!

Ynofficial: It was!

user67: So, Yn and Kelly are friends, meaning either Max isn’t engaged to Yn, or they broke up and stayed friends.

f1star_: Guys, I think it’s the second option.

ynlife: No, I don’t think so. He wouldn’t have taken her to pick out the wedding dress.

user1: I think Max and Yn are just friends.

maxieeee___: No way, they’re together!

Ynqueen: Okay, but then it wouldn’t make sense for Kelly to be part of the wedding preparations.

11_1max: Maybe she just wants to be a good friend.

Ynofficial: Or maybe you’re all just way off track.

user56: What???

f1racelover: Are we wrong about everything?

Ynandmax: Yn, we can’t take it anymore!

charles_leclerc

Description: This girl wants me dead.

Liked by Ynofficial, carlossainz55, and other 636.261.737

f1lover: I can't believe it, even Charles with the soft launch.

race_: I hate you, Charles.

charles_: Tell us right now who this girl is.

charlos: Also tell this girl we need you alive.

cl16: Look how he looks at her.

user32: In my life, I want someone to look at me like that.

Ynofficial: I could look at you like that.

maxverstappen1: You're creepy.

charles_leclerc: Let her dream.

Ynofficial: You know I can read you, right?

user98: Free abs.

user87: Let's thank this woman for the photo.

Ynofficial: Girls, I know Charles is handsome, but a bit of restraint.

user12: Says the girl who's with Max Verstappen.

landonorris: Dude, did you let her walk all over you?

charles_leclerc: What can I do?

Ynofficial: She appreciates your obedience.

user1: YN KNOWS HER.

Ynofficial: Probably.

f1world: Can you tell us about her?

user99: Please, we want to know something about her.

Ynofficial: No

georgerussell63: Ask "her" why she didn't invite me.

carlossainz55: I wish I had seen everything live.

Ynofficial: I had to help him fasten her bra.

lovef1: You were there?

Ynofficial: Oops.

maxverstappen1: Yn, it's time for you to leave.

Ynofficial: Goodbye!

user54: What the...?

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸/

Tag list

@bookishnerd1132 @gigicisneros @lunamelona @raizelchrysanderoctavius @chocolatepoetryfun @imherenows-blog @iamkaku @scopeiguess

[dandylovesturtles]

explaining the train of thought that got me to this would take way too much backstory but basically I had an idea and then I wrote it. I rewatched Scream recently so maybe that helps lol

cw: death (not of a canon character), mentions of blood and vomit

-----

The call comes in at a little after 2 AM, and he almost doesn’t answer because he’s busy.

But Leo almost never calls him, and it’s a singular enough occurrence that he picks up the phone and hits the button.

“Hello, you are conversing with Donatello,” he greets. “Make it quick, Nardo, I’m elbow deep in the tank’s engine.”

On the other end of the line, Leo is silent. Or, mostly silent; Donnie can hear him breathing, a little too loud, a little too fast.

Suddenly, he’s on high alert. He sits back from the tank, speaking more urgently into the phone, “Leo?”

There’s another second of breathing, and then, finally, in a voice that is too high and panicked to be his normal joking tone, he says, “Hey, remember when I sent you that meme about siblings who will beat the crap out of each other one minute and hide a body for each other the next, and I said, “us,” and you gave it a heart?”

Donnie blinks. Processes that string of words.

“I think I recall it,” he says.

“Well,” says Leo. “I need to know if that’s really us.”

Donnie stands up and keys in the command to swap battleshells to the jetpack.

“Stay where you are,” he says. “I’m on my way.”

-----

The body is male. Early twenties. About six two or six three. Caucasian. Wearing some ghoulish mask like the serial killer in a bad teen slasher.

Actually, now that Donnie thinks about it, there’s been stuff on the news lately. About a guy who likes to knife up co-eds. And Leo’s wearing his biggest, baggiest hoodie, and jeans, and in a dark alley like this it would be easy to mistake him for a normal, non-mutated human teen.

The puzzle pieces are all laid out for Donnie, but the picture it paints is pretty unbelievable.

Then again, he’s a mutant turtle who grew up in a sewer and recently fended off an alien invasion. His bar for believable is pretty low.

He takes in the body, slashed across the chest, ridiculous getup soaked in blood. Then he turns to look at Leo, curled around his knees against the wall. There’s blood all over him, too, but Donnie feels pretty confident that most of it is not his own. There’s a puddle of vomit nearby, and a dagger, and a katana, cast aside.

Leo raises his eyes to meet Donnie’s. “I didn’t know he was human.”

Donnie looks back at the body, and at the mask. Connects it to the dagger, which definitely isn’t Leo’s.

“Seems like he was a great guy,” Donnie says. 

“He stabbed my arm.”

“I meant it sarcastically.”

Leo laughs, high and reedy. Then he leans over and vomits again.

Donnie can’t help but curl his snout at that one. He looks away and waits for Leo to finish.

There’s a spit, then a sniff, then Leo says, “He stabbed my arm and I turned around and saw the mask.”

Ah yes, that. It’s pink and has a serrated smile. Little rubbery bits of slime and ooze. These things got popular after the invasion - they aren’t anywhere near the real thing, but in a dark alley, under attack, alone, when Leo had…

The puzzle pieces are there. Donnie doesn’t really need an explanation to put it together.

Actually, scratch that: he does need an explanation for one thing.

“Why are you so upset about this?” He looks back at Leo. “You took out a serial killer. Or a wannabe serial killer. At the very least a stabber.”

“I didn’t mean to kill him,” says Leo immediately. A little pleading. “I didn’t think that would… I didn’t know he was human.”

“He attacked you.”

“I could have disarmed him. I could have trapped him and let the police deal with him.”

“He came up behind you in this creepy mask and stabbed your arm.”

“He didn’t stand a chance against me,” says Leo, and it’s not swaggering and not boastful, but horrified. “It was like tearing paper, Dee. It was so easy.”

Donnie leaves the body to kneel in front of his brother. He puts his hands on his shoulders, looking him straight in the eye to make sure he listens.

“He attacked you, Nardo. He wanted to kill you. He made the wrong choice. Not you.”

Leo looks down, at the blood on his hoodie, and Donnie squeezes his shoulders until they lock eyes again. 

“He made the wrong choice,” Donnie repeats emphatically. 

Leo sighs, like he’s giving in, and a rueful smile grows on his face. “Thanks, hermano. But I don’t think the EPF is gonna see it that way.”

Ah yes, the good old United States government, and their hilariously poorly titled Earth Protection Force. Since the invasion, their existence had become known to the EPF, and they’ve been in an unspoken truce ever since. A “live and let live” holding pattern.

Unfortunately, Donnie has to admit Leo is right on this one: that this man is likely and most probably a serial killer won’t matter to the EPF. Killing any human crosses a line they won’t tolerate.

And so, there is only one solution here. The one Leo proposed when he first called.

Donnie is going to help him hide a body.

…Which means he is going to have to touch it.

Leo frowns at him. “Uh, Dee, what’s the yarf-face for?”

“I just realized how gross this is going to be.”

Leo laughs again, more than a little hysterical, and lets his head fall against Donnie’s plastron, the giggles shaking his shoulders under Donnie’s hands.

“That wasn’t a joke,” Donnie insists. Leo just laughs even harder.

Donnie scowls, even as he pulls Leo closer. “That meme really is us. I want to beat the crap out of you right now.”

Leo howls with laughter. Except it sounds a little more like sobbing now. Donnie gathers him up and holds him until he’s better again.

-----

Across the Hudson, the sky is turning pink. Donnie stands with Leo, watching the water that the body disappeared under.

They’ve already scrubbed the alley clean of any blood traces - his and Leo’s. He also had his drones bring gloves with the cleaning supplies, so they didn’t leave any fingerprints. At least Leo had the sense not to touch anything. And it’s not like the government has their prints on file, anyway. Donnie’s checked.

There wasn’t anything they could really do to hide the massive laceration that led to the body’s death. Short of melting it in acid, but both of them had dismissed that idea as soon as Donnie raised it. Despite what Donnie thinks of himself, he isn’t actually a stone cold disposer of bodies. The idea of melting it was too gross to think about.

Besides, it doesn’t matter if the body gets found, as long as it doesn’t get traced back to them. And Donnie doesn’t see any reason it should.

He’s already hacked any security cameras near the scene and made sure Leo doesn’t show up on any of them. Leo’s a good enough ninja to avoid that sort of thing, anyway, not that Donnie will admit it out loud. The crabs and fish will take care of the flesh and the katana’s mark. Leo destroyed the weapon itself in a bright blue explosion of ninpo.

“It’s kind of a bummer,” says Leo after a minute, “that the murders will go unsolved.”

“No, they won’t.” Donnie pulls out a phone, holding it carefully with his gloves. “He helpfully took trophy photos.”

Leo’s eyes go wide. “Dude, did you fish around in his pockets?”

Donnie can’t help but curl his lips. “Ugh, don’t remind me. It was a very unpleasant experience and I don’t want to repeat it.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“Find where he lived and leave it there.” Donnie shrugs. “His body will turn up, or he’ll get reported missing. The cops will find it and everything will be wrapped up in a neat little bow.”

“Huh. Guess that takes care of that.” A pause. Leo shuffles a bit next to him. “You’re… really calm about this.”

Is he? Since the moment he got that phone call, he entered Fix It mode. He hasn’t really thought of anything else since.

“I don’t know if I will be later,” he admits.

“I’ll be there, if you’re not.”

Donnie hums an acknowledgement. There’s a weight against his arm, Leo leaning into him.

“Thanks, Dee,” he says.

“You’d do the same for me,” Donnie replies.

“Yeah,” Leo agrees. Simple as that.

[mameillieureennemie]

Hello, Nice to meet You

Can we Please please please have a part 2 of Telepathic!Vi where she finds out about Reader's crush, wether it's by ekko or Reader herself, and confesses her own crush too?

Thanks so much, your Vi work Is so damn good!

hello hello, nice to meet you too! i'd be more than happy to do a part two of telepathic!vi! and thank you so much, i'm glad you enjoy my work! ^-^

you and vi talk it out (with some help from ekko).

part 1

"Do they hate me?" Vi can't help but ask after witnessing the tail-end of your escape. "Is that why they're avoiding me?"

"Nah, they don't hate you," Ekko replies earnestly, offering Vi one of the spare bottles of beer. "Never underestimate how much they adore you."

Vi accepts the bottle and takes the cap off with her teeth. "Doesn't feel like adoration," she sulks before having a few pulls of beer. "I just...it's the telepathy, isn't it? Me being able to get into people's heads has freaked them out and now—"

"Hey," Ekko says firmly, resting a warm hand on her shoulder. "Read my mind since I know my words aren't gonna do it for you."

Vi nods, a little shaky, before closing her eyes and letting Ekko's thoughts seep into her head.

They don't hate you. In fact, it's pretty much the opposite. But don't tell them I told you this or else they'll bury me in a shallow grave.

Vi's eyes flutter open, wide and surprised, as she murmurs, "Oh."

Ekko chuckles. "Yeah, oh," he teases, biting into his chicken wrap. "That's why they've been acting so weird. Because they're unable to hide their thoughts from you. You know how they feel about being vulnerable, so that's why they've dodging."

"Because they didn't want to ruin our friendship," Vi says softly, her heart aching.

"Mhm," Ekko agrees. "So—"

"But I like them too!" Vi exclaims suddenly. "I like them so much it's painful. I want to be with them all the time and hold their hand and kiss them and—!"

"Don't tell me that," Ekko interrupts, smiling as he nods in the direction you escaped. "Go tell them that."

With those words, Vi is leaping out into the night, her heart racing as she soars.

It takes her twenty minutes to find you, all of your usual hideaways empty. It's the very last place she looks in that she finds you, tucked away in a space barely big enough for two people.

When you see her, panic flashes across your features before you tuck your head between your knees. As if doing that will block Vi from your head.

It's endearing as it is heart-breaking.

"Hey," Vi says first and crouches beside you. "I, uh, spoke with Ekko."

There's a moment of silence before you say, "I'm gonna kill him," into your knees. Vi huffs, amused, as she leans back into the wall behind her.

"Don't," she says. "I read his mind, and well, he told me some wise stuff. You know how he is."

You hum in agreement, the sound soft, as you stay buried in your safe space.

Vi swallows, glances at you before at the partial bit of sky she sees. "I know you hate being vulnerable, I'm the same." She chuckles quietly. "I guess that's why we get along so well, right? But please know that I would never ever read your mind without your permission. I understand we all have secrets, and the last thing I'd want is for you to feel like you can't trust me."

Vi stops to let her words hang in the air, and it's a moment before you reply.

"I trust you more than anyone, Vi," you say, finally lifting your head up to look at her. "It's just...I didn't want to scare you away with my thoughts because I care about our friendship too much to ruin it and—"

"What if you didn't ruin it?" Vi says suddenly, looking right into your eyes. At your look of confusion, she takes a deep breath and says, "What if...I felt the same?"

You stare at her for a second, blink before you're inhaling in realisation.

"Oh."

[crstn-art]

my friend @budaflyhi & their roommate are Black people disabled by LC & more. their slumlord wants them out of their property by December 31st, even if it means being homeless in the Winter. & it does.

A make-ready home was promised at move-in. Immediately, that was not the case. Many home repairs, one after another. A broken fridge cost them food, multiple times. Sewage flood in basement incurred total damage to washer/dryer. A fuck-ton of unexpected costs & setbacks (that weren't their fault) later, they're being told to leave. with nothing to their name. nowhere to go. just... +3k in utility debt, and their heat shut off since April.

This GFM goal of $7k will go towards this abrupt displacement, to make it as smooth as possible. Per GFM page, their first major goal ($3k) must be reached before Nov 22nd (application & deposits). In meantime, direct don0s are needed too (through this link). In order to focus GFM, they must raise November rent early, by Monday Oct 7th. Otherwise, the 410/1030 raised so far will have to be used as survival funds & major goals will be pushed back.

The only way forward is helping this reach *beyond* the people that are *already doing what they can.*

Proof under the cut. ID's follow. TW for contamination, JIC.

pls RB, tell a friend. and thank you for it. [prev post]

(ID: 1. A camera photo of a notice of lease expiring and not being renewed. Includes mention of deposit, lease expiration date, which is December thirty first, and the date that this letter was given, which was September twenty six. It is enlarged to highlight. Some info is blanked out for privacy. 2. a screenshot of a heat slash gas bill of one thousand five hundred and sixty dollars, down from two thousand two hundred after aid from an org. 3. a picture of the basement, with a dried-out previous sewage backup around drain, chunks and bits, and wet stain visible. 4. same basement, but the entire floor flooded in wastewater. end ID.)

Lastly, aid request graphic. ID is in alt for this one.

[age-of-lesbianism]

the hello my twenties fan in 2023 experience is literally dreaming about new seasons coming out with a new cast because that's how desperate i am getting

[rafesdollette]

THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY- (2) BOY NEXT DOOR SERIES

summary — your first 'legendary' obx party with your new neighbor word count — 2.1k authors note — this is my first time writing smut so ntm thank yew. sorry for getting it out later than promised. I've been busy adulting (unfortunately) . and i stayed up til three am writing this so...you're welcome warnings & genre —not proofread. alcohol, !reader being drunk, slight praise kink (?), jealous rafe, fingering, oral (fem receiving) . fluff + smut pairing — NEIGHBOR!RAFE x LUX!BABYDOLL!READER

You weren't sure if legendary would be the correct word to describe your current surroundings. You were thinking more along the lines of uncomfortable. You'd stupidly agreed to this party, just to be standing on the wall with your second cup of an unknown liquid that truthfully, wasn't exactly pleasurable. Though, you were still drinking it for whatever reason. You were dizzy, suffering from a throbbing headache, and pissed off since Rafe decided not to hold up his promise to show up and keep you company.

It's almost been two hours since you've arrived, and still no sign of Rafe. He promised to meet you here whenever he got done doing whatever 'important task' he had to do, which was only supposed to take twenty minutes. At this point, you've texted him at least seventeen times, all for them to be left delivered. You weren't sure if he had forgotten about you, or if he just got caught up in whatever task he was dealing with. Either way, you were still annoyed, considering he damn near begged you to come here.

As you take another sip of the off-putting liquid in your cup, you hear someone's footsteps walking in your direction, as well as a pair of hands on your waist. Obviously you expect it to be Rafe finally deciding to show up, but you're met with otherwise. You turn around, looking up to see someone you recognize as Topper, due to meeting him earlier in the week. You can't say the interactions between the both of you have necessarily been unappealing, he just wasn't someone you'd be interested in spending your time with due to his whole persona. He was honestly the last person you wanted to see.

“Topper, hey.” You force a smile, shifting uncomfortably. From all of the interactions you've had with him, this is the most touchy he's gotten. Probably caused by the alcohol he's obviously been downing all night.

“Hello, pretty lady.” Topper drawls, clearly struggling to stand upright as his hands remained gripped on your waist.

You found yourself desperately but subtly trying to squirm away from his drunken advances. You couldn't deny that Topper had a certain air about him that was less than appealing, particularly considering the current situation in which he was clearly inebriated. Despite your discomfort, you forced a polite smile, willing yourself to remain calm. “Have you seen Rafe?” You ask, looking around the crowd of people “He said he'd meet me here but it's been...” Trailing off, you look down at your phone, seeing the current time “A little over two hours.”

Topper chuckled, the sound coming out as more of a slurred hiccup. “Rafe?” He slurred, his grip on you loosening. “Last time I saw him, he was yelling at Sarah for somethin'." He shrugged, swaying a bit in his stance. “But that was hours ago. He's probably balls deep in some chick right now, knowing him.”

“I doubt that's true,” you retorted. “He promised he'd be here.”

Topper chuckled again, his hand trailing along your hip. “You trust that man too much for someone who just met him what? A week ago?” He drawled. “You could always spend time with me though.”

Though you were slightly uncomfortable, frankly you had nothing better to do. Thus hanging out with Topper was really the only entertaining thing to do around here. So you spend the next hour and a half taking shots and dancing with Topper until you're almost too drunk to even stand.

You're not sure how, but you manage to get outside to the front lawn, drunkenly stumbling to lay on the grass, looking up at the sky for a moment before your eyes close.

You're unaware of how long you've been lying there or if you passed out or not, but you open your eyes to Rafe standing over you with an amused expression on his face. “Are you drunk right now?”

“Mmh, maybe” You respond as you try to stand up, but the intensity of your dizziness makes you fall back down, huffing as you try again. Rafe watches you try a second, third, fourth, and fifth time, all unsuccessful until he sighs, lifting you in a bridal carry across the lawn and back into the house.

“Wait, when did you get here?” You ask as you lazily wrap your arms around his neck to stay steady in his grip, not that you need to though, he has a pretty firm grip on you.

“Not long ago.” He answered, carrying you through the crowd of people. “You're a real handful when you're drunk.” he noted as he carried you inside, his hold steady and secure.

“I'm not drunk.” You insist, despite knowing you were lying. You were beyond drunk, which was clearly evident by how you were currently being carried around like a child.

Rafe snickered, amused by your insistent denial. “You can't even stand up straight” he pointed out. “And your eyes are glassy as hell, which only happens when you're shitfaced. So yes, you're very drunk.”

You open your mouth to argue further, but close it as you realize the pointlessness of arguing with Rafe. You knew he wasn't going to let the idea go until you admitted you were drunk.

Rafe carried you into the living room, gently placing you down on the couch. He sat down next to you, watching you with an amused smirk. “I'm guessing you had a good night?” He asked

You roll your eyes, moving your hair out of your face “Well it's not like you were here to know. I had to hangout with Topper instead.”

Rafe's amusement fades into an irritated frown. “Why would you hangout with Topper?” he asked, his tone a little bit sharper than it was originally.

You notice the irritation in his voice and frown as well.“Because you ditched me.” You replied, a hint of frustration in your voice. “You promised you'd come and meet me but no, I had to wait for almost three hours before you finally showed up.”

Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't ditch you." He mumbled in frustration. "I got caught up dealing with some Sarah drama, and when I was finally done, I came to find you. And what do I find? You hanging all over Topper like some drunk fool.”

Your frown deepens at his words. “I was not all over him.” You stated in an attempt to defend yourself. “He was the one all over me. I didn't even want to hangout with him, but you weren't there, so I had no choice.”

Rafe's frown deepened, he wasn't sure why he was getting so upset over this, considering the fact that he just met you not long ago and nor were you together. “You didn't have to hangout with him.” He retorted. “You could've just, I don't know, maybe stayed here and waited for me. But no, you had to go and get drunk with him instead.”

You cross your arms, feeling more and more irritated by the minute. “Oh, so I was expected to just sit here and wait for you? How was I supposed to know when you were coming back? You could've been gone the whole night for all I knew.”

“And another thing.” You continue, still not letting the argument go. “Where were you even at? What was so important that you couldn't even take a second to text me and let me know you weren't coming?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I told you, I was dealing with some Sarah drama. She came to me and said one of the guys had been stealing stuff from her, and wanted me to confront him about it. I wasn't thinking about texting you, I was too focused on figuring things out with her.”

“So you ditched me?”

“No, I didn't ditch you.” Rafe insisted. “I got caught up and just forgot to text you. And it's not like I was gone the whole night. I came looking for you as soon as I was finished”

Rafe watches you for a moment then sighs. “Look, I'm sorry I forgot to text you. But I'm here now, aren't I?”

You can feel your irritation gradually fading, but you still have a slight pout on your face. "Yeah, yeah you're here " you mumbled with a sigh. “But I'm still pissed”

Rafe rolled his eyes, trying not to laugh at your grumpy childish demeanor. “Oh come on, you can't stay mad at me forever” He says as she leans over, taking your heels off of your aching feet.

You huff, avoiding eye contact and crossing your arms. “Yes, I can. I'm very stubborn if you haven't noticed.”

“Well I guess I'll have to find a way for you to make you forgive me”

And that's how you find yourself with your hands on his arms as you sit perched onto his face with your thighs on either side of his head, looking down at him as his tongue flicks between your folds.

"I-I'm not sure if this is really the best..." You try to protest, but the words are lost in the waves of pleasure that wash over you with each flick of his tongue. Your legs trembling so badly now that you can barely hold yourself up, and if it wasn't for his strong grip on your hips, you know you would have collapsed onto him by now. His rough hands slide up your body, his fingers squeezing and massaging their way to your chest. He palms your tits through your shirt, flicking the sensitive nipples with his thumbs in a way that makes you whimper.

“mmmh you taste amazing, fuck.” he groans against your cunt as he circles your clit, sucking the sensitive bud, looking up at you as he does so. You don't even have to look back at him to know he's smirking against you, seeing the way your eyes are dazed and hearing the whimpers and moans he's pulling from you.

Your breath catches in your throat, and suddenly, the room seems way too hot, the air too thick. You lean back, resting your hands behind you, finding just enough leverage to lift your hips and grind on his mouth. He groans, his tongue swirling around your clit with more pressure.

His fingers trail down, trailing over your inner thighs, and before you can even process what he's doing, he shoves one inside your squelching pussy, curling it and hitting that spot inside of you that has you seeing starts and your hole clenching around his finger “A-ah shiiit, Rafe”

“Mmmh, lookin s'pretty up there, angel” he mumbles against you, increasing the speed and pressure of his tongue as he buries another ring-clad finger into you, watching your eyes flutter and your mouth fall open, following with a string a whimpers and desperate cries.

You try and tell him that you can't take much more, your voice cracking and trailing off as he presses his fingers into that sweet spot inside you once more, making your eyes roll back. “R-Rafe...can't-”

“C'mon angel, I know you can. Gonna make you feel good- mmh...taste so sweet. Just let go for me.”

He flicks his tongue in a way that has you moaning his name so loud, you're almost sure the party downstairs can hear you clearly, the sounds so wanton and debauched. Though, you make no attempt to quiet down since you can't bring yourself to care.

He groans against you, his hot breath wavering, sending chills across your skin. You reach down, threading your fingers through his hair, grabbing it roughly, and grinding against him, feeling him moan against you more intensely now, as he speeds up the pace of his fingers.

“Oh god, I'm- I'm-” The sound you let out was almost pornographic as your throw your head back, whimpering his name as your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers, cumming onto his mouth and fingers.

“Mmmh, that's a good girl” Rafe groans against you, lapping you up before sliding his fingers out of you and licking those clean too. “Bet Topper couldn't get this pussy to cum like that, yeah?”

Your eyes flutter closed, whimpering as you let out a breathy “Mmhm” before you suddenly sit up, looking down at him. “Rafe...where did you leave my heels?” in which he simply shrugs and replies “Somewhere downstairs.”

You pout down at him “But those were miu miu”

“Mmh, i'll buy ya some more, sweet girl” He mutters as he places a wet kiss on your core.

© rafesdollette

tags: @ayy1234567 @supercutelovergirl