#it doesn’t stop her from trying tho

[caitlynmeow]

Modern AU

Cassandra has a death wish with the drinks she makes. Bela is surprised her sister didn’t get a heart attack. But that is only Bela, what does she know when it comes to the things that her sister does. As long as she’s handling this madness just fine, Bela shouldn’t have any reason to complain.

But the eldest daughter feels obligated to mention what is mixed with the vodka. Because different people like different things right? Some prefer cranberry, others prefer cherry soda, and then there is Cassandra’s mix which is vodka and red bull. Of course, it isn’t for show, Cassandra does drink that monstrosity and thinks most people are okay with this thing.

It isn’t only vodka. On occasion, Bela saw her sister mix espresso with red bull when she needs the extra burst of energy after staying up very late. How her sister didn’t drop dead after drinking that is still something Bela wonders about to this day.

Cassandra never listens though. She thinks it’s okay and as long as her body isn’t rejecting this then why should she stop?

On a morning while the girls were staying over at their aunt Donna’s house, Cassandra did toss espresso in a glass full of the energy drink. It was then that the three sisters saw their very kind and very soft-spoken aunt snap.

Donna is very against energy drinks. To the Italian woman, if you need energy you get it from caffeine that’s either in tea or coffee, and that’s about it. Energy drinks are a huge no in her book and she often speaks about it. To see her niece nonchalantly mix two things that have no business mixing together, the woman was sent over the edge.

Donna might have over-dramatized it. She didn’t have to go as far as to mention how she would tell Alcina that she stood by while her daughter killed herself. Because the woman is convinced that the second Cassandra drinks the beverage, her soul will depart from her body.

Daniela, trying to help her aunt calm down, mentioned that she should relax because “Cass does this a lot you really don’t—“ But she was interrupted because what do you mean she does this frequently?

Donna wonders how Alcina allows this. To which the daughters gulped because their mother doesn’t really know and they figured that what Alcina didn’t know wasn’t going to hurt her. But of course, Cassandra is cocky and thought her aunt wouldn’t even know what red bull is which is apparently not true at all.

[arolesbianism]

Despite how much I suffered making my last isat au Aris sprite redraw, I decided to do it again and once again went through hell doing it. There’s like a billion mistakes in this (such as her having the wrong arm rip) but at the end of the day I’m still happy with how it turned out :]

[crownrots]

big al is literally that “i’m a bad bitch you can’t kill me” meme and i think that’s what every geriatric mercenary needs to aspire to

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I caught myself looking like 😑 again at the grocery store today and I feel so awkward. I don’t want to come off as an asshole to anyone working there (it must suck as a job, especially during summer tourist season) but my face is just like this! I think it would be really funny if I got a custom t-shirt one day that just said “sorry, it’s (probably) not you. My face is just like this” with the 😑 emoji under it

[alittleemo]

mannnnnnnnbb fuck November I’m so tired of feeling lonely in my own life.

[bunveh]

I’m so glad my exams are finally over bc I can at last cut my long term friends off since I have so much free time now.

[shidoukanae]

The farther I go into the light novel, the more I’m convinced the manhwa deciding to center the plot around Lyla’s relationship with Helene was a really clever idea

Im ngl, outside of the moments where Paris and Fian interact, or when Paris and Helene have little chats together, the most interesting part of the light novel is Lyla’s and Helene’s relationship together.

It’s a lot like in the manhwa, wherein Helene is both kind and cruel to Lyla, and the intrigue surrounding Helene candidly rejecting Lyla and Lyla struggling to reconcile the fact she is hated by a heroine who should love everyone is SO GOOD. Lyla worshipping Helene as who she should be and feeling both desperation for her help and resentful for her ire is so delicious. Helene showing obvious gestures of care towards Lyla while also openly admitting she is selfish enough to want to destroy her own weaknesses is such a fun take on her, if not overly cruel.

Both gals are very human and I adore every interaction they get. They literally have the most interesting relationship in the LN (barring Paris & Fian, Paris/Helene, and recently Daniel & Lyla), and while the LN is starting to become a little too slow for my liking (I’m so tired of Fian/Lyla lmao. It was cute at first but it’s so repetitive now come on) every single goddamn moment shared between Lyla and Helene is enthralling as fuck.

[cats-in-the-clouds]

my sister got engaged and we’re all really happy for her but my bitter rain cloud of a dad (who naturally she told last) is giving her a bit of passive aggressive grief about it despite her boyfriend being like the best man of our generation (presumably either because he’s not catholic or because my dad sees them as young dumb unemployed people who aren’t ready for marriage or because he’s mad he barely has any real love with his own wife or something). so like pray for us? i wish i knew what to do

[nereidprinc3ss]

trolley problem

in which fem!reader has been gambling with her life and spencer reid is more than a little concerned

flangst, hurt/comfort warnings/tags: passive suicidal ideation from reader, she keeps risking her life, that really grinds Spencer’s gears, established relationship, existential dread, existential euphoria, lots of stuff about grief and death and self worth, not advocating for this, pretension from the author, blasphemy probably?, reader gets fuzzy from prescribed painkillers, arguing, hospital stuff, mention of sleep paralysis involving spiders, reader gets shot but she’s fineee, I pander to intro to philosophy takers, bau!reader, neurodivergent coded reader, if she’s not exactly like you I’m sorry, bean soup a/n: one day you’re in a writing slump literally the next you are in your notes app for six hours writing whatever the fuck this is but I think I love it even tho it’s weird and I hope u like it too!! btw this was gonna be called cotard's syndrome but then I never once talk abt cotard's but if u care that might be interesting context for the motif of not feeling human/alive, WC 3K

Spencer hasn’t spoken to you since the doctor left the room five minutes ago. 

The air is antiseptic as you take it deep into the hollows of your lungs and trap it there for a moment, trying to optimize oxygen intake without actually having to breathe very often. Hospital smell is as universal as it is suffocating. It reeks of everything but death—flowers, blood, bleach, vomit. A humiliating, desperate scramble to defy the very thing that defines mortality. It’s pathetic. It reminds you of the worst instances of failure and loss and denial in your life. It curdles your blood. Literally rots you from the inside out. 

You’ve had ample time to ponder that smell over the last few months because you keep ending up here, and some time ago you decided the institution of the hospital is inherently absurd. It’s stupid to think you could avoid the one absolute condition on your corporeal form: impermanence. It is the only thing that is promised, and people still waste their lives away running from it. It is the ultimate self-fulfilling prophecy. 

So around the time you acknowledged that hospitals are simply monuments to the self-importance of man, you gave up on trying too hard to preserve yourself. You’ve seen death too much and too often. You’ve tried staving it off with prayer and the miracles of modern medicine, and it never matters in the end because it’s all magical thinking anyway. All the wallowing and the bargaining and pleading never got you anywhere. 

You’ve accepted that from the moment you were born, you were marked for death. 

But you’re not a complete nihilist. You’re not even totally resigned to the abject certainty of death—because you’ve found a loophole.

Everyone has as many chances at escaping death as other people are willing to offer them at the cost of their own lives. Not many people are willing to make that trade—someone else’s life for their own—but you’ve decided you are. Because if not you, then who?

It’s not that you don’t see the value in your own life, as Spencer keeps making it sound. It’s just the opposite. You understand that you’ve got an extremely valuable resource, and you don’t just have to sit on it. There are things you can do. Choices you can make. Ways to defy death. 

Just… not yours. 

Or maybe you’re just in deep denial. 

Either way—this is a philosophy your boyfriend intentionally refuses to understand. He gets mad, or some kind of upset, every time you try to explain it. Usually he ends up leaving the room close to tears. You never feel good about it.

Right now he’s presumably trying to give you the silent treatment and not doing a very good job. 

“Stop holding your breath. Why are you—stop that.”

Spencer’s frowning, skin sallow and milk-blue under fluorescent lighting. Purple seeps from around his eyes like spilled wine on a white table cloth. Your stomach turns. 

“Sorry.”

He doesn’t tell you not to apologize. You don’t expect him to. 

“Why are you doing that? Does something hurt?”

Other than your entire bicep being on fire due to the 9 millimeter Luger it recently came into contact with?

“Not really. I just don’t like the smell of hospitals.”

At that, he gets stony again. Like, Medusa stony. You feel a tightening in your chest that has nothing to do with a lack of air. His arms are crossed. A silk lined blazer drapes over your lap, and you wonder if he’s cold in just that white button up. It’s translucent in this light, like onion skin, or maybe something less organic—the folds and wrinkles look like fabric, but lots of things look like something they aren’t. In the Pietá, Jesus lounges dead on his mother’s lap, his cheek pressed to her arm like either of them have warm flesh, and her skirts drape from her knees and fall to the ground in delicate folds just like Spencer’s jacket and looking at pictures of it you swear you could find comfort there too—but if you wanted to make space for yourself next to Jesus you’d have to do it with a chisel and mallet. You’re starting to think that’s what it’s going to take with Spencer, as well. 

“So stop walking into active gunfire. You’ll spend a lot less time here.”

Every deep sigh (of which there have been several) calcifies you further. Ironically, you never feel less alive than you do in a hospital. 

“I didn’t walk into active g—”

“I’m not debating it with you. It’s not a discussion.”

“So you’re just going to be pissed at me for the rest of forever? I mean, if it’s not a discussion—what are you gonna do? Break up with me?”

You feel yourself dripping poison in the well. Even as you say it. As his head tilts toward you slowly and intently from his spot against the wall, and his warning gaze is cold and unforgiving and weighs 3.35 tons.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Talk?”

“Don’t try and manipulate me by implying that there are no options between permissiveness and dumping you!”

“I’m not manipulating you. And I don’t need your permission to do anything.” 

The first part is an incredulous scoff as well as a blatant lie. You are manipulating him. Chisel and all. At least, you were trying to. It clearly doesn’t work very well. His jaw clenches.  

“Is this worth it to you? Fighting with me like we’re children solely so you don’t have to take accountability?”

“Accountability for what? I made a choice. I don’t regret it. You’re upset because I did my job.”

A beat. 

Silence always makes you feel the gravity of your words. 

“Do you believe that?”

His voice softens so much, so quickly, it splinters down the middle. 

You’ve never been known for your light touch. For someone who sees eviscerated bodies nearly every day, and prides herself on her evolved understanding of mortality, you often forget other people are not, in fact, impenetrable marble—they are flesh and blood and bone, and you’ve splattered yourself in the evidence of that. 

“What?” You murmur. You easily turn timid, when you’re afraid you’ve been too heavy-handed. Spencer’s seen you sob over the birds who hit the windowpane and never reappeared from the shrubbery—their delicate wings, their little beaks—he didn’t mean to, Spencer, and now he’s dead! He’s seen you spend forty minutes catching a spider with a cup and an envelope rather than smush it, even though you have reoccurring episodes of sleep paralysis wherein a giant arachnid is sitting on your chest, hissing and clacking its pincers. He knows you are, at your core, kind and good. 

It’s a little scary for someone to know that about you. It’s a little scary when you see your own vulnerability reflected in their eyes and the way they speak to you, the way you see it in him now. 

“Do you believe that the choices you make regarding your safety don’t concern me at all?”

“They’re… my choices to make,” you whisper, but you’re less sure than you were a minute ago. 

“I’m not talking about that—I’m talking about how it feels like you are trying to kill yourself every time we’re in the field.” His voice shakes. You swallow. “You have been hospitalized for four serious injuries sustained on the job in the past five months. Every time I bring it up, you—you talk about life like it’s optional for you. Like you’re not only willing to give it up but are actively looking to throw yourself in harm’s way every chance you get. You think that doesn’t terrify me?”

There’s a small chip in the paint on the wall next to him roughly the shape of Africa. 

“It’s not like that. I’m… I’m just having an unlucky streak.”

He snaps. 

“Luck isn’t going to get between you and a bullet. Ever.”

“It’s my job, Spencer.”

“No. It is a risk of the job. Not a defining feature or requirement. But you keep running toward gunfire like you have a quota to meet.”

“Spencer, I’m not doing it at you. I’m not trying to get myself hurt.”

“Well it doesn’t really feel like you’re trying to avoid it, either,” he shoots back immediately, and you feel the anguish radiating from him until it lodges in your own chest, like it was always yours. Maybe it was. 

You want to make it better, but you don’t know how, and even if you did, he’s pushing off the wall and crossing the room toward the door. 

“Where are you going?” You call, a little too desperately for your liking. 

“You need to eat something.”

Which translates roughly to he’s pissed and upset and he needs to leave the room. You’ve done this song and dance before. 

However, food and an absence of him are contenders for the absolute last two things you want right now. 

“Spencer, please don’t—”

But the door is already whooshing closed. 

You stare at the grey and white checkered floor. Light bounces off the waxen reflection—some sort of parallel universe you can’t reach, perhaps. The whole room is desaturated. A mechanical humming threatens to drive you insane. It doesn’t feel like a place for living humans. You’re not convinced you are one. 

When he comes back, maybe ten minutes later, nothing’s moved at all. In fact you’re not even sure you’ve been breathing. 

The door closes as quietly as it opens. 

This time, wordlessly, Spencer comes to you. You see his shoes first—his serious adult shoes. You wish he was wearing his Converse. 

Then you see the bottle of apple juice he’s cracking open for you. Blue lid. Same kind you always get. 

“You didn’t bring food.”

“You wouldn’t have eaten it.”

Fair enough. 

You take the bottle with your good arm and sip shallowly—all that adrenaline and the subsequent interpersonal strife has left you nauseous. The drink is too sweet. It clashes with the tang of metal in your mouth. 

Still, you drink enough to satisfy him, and then you’re tossing his jacket aside before balancing the bottle between your thighs so you can screw the lid back on. He doesn’t go back to the couch or his spot on the wall. 

Spencer doesn’t pull away when you lean into him, but it does take him a moment to reciprocate. You’re still grateful all the same when he cradles the back of your head to his stomach like you’re made of porcelain. 

“I don’t think you understand how upset I am,” he says quietly. 

Only Spencer Reid could be furious with you and still hold you like this. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. 

“That’s not good enough. You need to stop risking your life like that.”

He doesn’t get it. Your brows flutter as they try to furrow but even holding that expression saps you. Maybe the pain meds are finally kicking in. 

“I just wanna help people.”

“That doesn’t explain to me or justify your urge to do it at the cost of your own life. We all want to help people, angel. The whole team. That’s why we do what we do. But we don’t run into shootouts. We don’t split off and provoke people with guns when we’re unarmed and unprepared.”

“But it worked. She got away.” You feel a spark of fulfillment at the memory of Gloria Sanchez in JJ’s arms just before the ambulance doors had slammed you into your first cage of the night. 

“We don’t know if he was going to kill her. He might not’ve fired at all if you didn’t go running toward him. That wasn’t strategic, it was reckless and irresponsible and you know that. I know you do. So something else is going on.”

The pressure in your nose that usually precipitates tears comes as a surprise. 

“I just—if that’s how I can save someone, why shouldn’t I, you know? Why do they have less of a right to live than I do just because they’ve been deprived of the choice? If I have a choice, and they don’t, I should choose to… to help them. That’s my job.”

For a long moment, you listen to your own breath, muffled by Spencer’s shirt, and the mechanical humming, and something dripping, and the low, buzzy chatter of nurses far down the hallway.

When Spencer next speaks you get the sense he’s holding a lot back. His voice is taut enough it wavers slightly. Taut enough that if he weren’t speaking so quietly he might be yelling. It’s like pinpricks all over your body—not enough to hurt, but enough to make sure you’re paying attention. 

“You can’t help anyone if you’re dead. Do you understand me?”

And yes, in theory, you do. But that doesn’t negate your original point. It only takes one life or death moment for you to utilize the most valuable resource you have. What happens after is no longer your concern. 

“On the psych evals you helped develop it asks if you think it’s appropriate to sacrifice the one to save the many. The answer is supposed to be no. If you say yes you get flagged. The FBI frowns upon… lever-pullers. And that’s exactly what I’m doing if I let one person die when I could’ve potentially saved them.”

“Protecting your own life is not pulling the lever. What you’re doing isn’t smart or morally righteous. You’re just throwing yourself across the tracks, too. If you were to fail a psych eval right now it would be because you’re passively suicidal. And you know what? The FBI also tends to frown upon self-immolative delusions of grandeur and girls who like to play sacrificial lamb.”

“’M not a… sacrificial lamb…”

“No,” Spencer agrees quietly, stroking your hair. “You’re not.”

And you can’t react to the fragility in his voice, or the content of his words, and the fact that when he says it he means something different—you can’t do anything about it. You can only catalogue it. You can only know that he loves you, and feel a little guilty about it.

Some time passes. You don’t know how long he remains standing so you can doze against him. He does not smell like the hospital. He’s the antidote for whatever grief they distill from widows and orphans before aerosolizing it through the whole place. 

“Baby?” He asks eventually. You know the lilt of it. He’s been thinking. 

“Hm?”

He hesitates. 

“Can we talk about you maybe taking some time off of work?”

“You heard the boss,” you mumble. “I can’t come in for at least a week.”

“I mean beyond that.”

You intend to respond, but by the time you open your mouth you’ve lost the prompt in all the brain fog. 

“You’re so comfy,” you murmur dreamily. “Thank you for being mad at me.”

If he responds, you miss it. 

You’re imagining the bed waiting for you at home, once the doctor is done observing you—warm, neatly made. Blankets woven with soft fibers. A mattress that will sink under your weight. You think of Spencer, who’s shaping himself to you, Spencer, who intentionally inhales when you exhale at night to make room for the rise and fall of your chest against his. You think of the imprint of his buttons on your cheek. You are both flesh and blood and bone. 

Strange, pill-induced half dreams and visions and memories take over. You’re in that alleyway again. That man fires. You don’t blink or scream or feel. 

Just before the bullet makes contact you’re standing in front of the Pietá. It’s massive. Spencer is there, too, holding your hand. 

You can’t actually see him, only, you know he’s there. You feel his warmth, his presence, when he leans over to whisper in your ear. The way you know him goes beyond sight. 

The Pietá—meaning the pity, in English—is 6’7” and six feet wide. It weighs 6,700 pounds. Michelangelo had to quarry the block of marble himself. He was only 25 when he finished. The Basilica keeps it behind bulletproof glass. 

Jesus and Mary behind bullet proof glass. 

God. Who’d try to kill Jesus a third time? He’s already dead. 

Besides—they’re both made of stone. Bullets would probably just ping right off of them. Or maybe they’d shatter just like you did. 

Probably not though. You’re not actually made of marble. You’ve no idea what it feels like to be a statue and get shot at. You sure know how it feels as a human, though—and it feels like shit. You don’t really know why you keep doing it. None of your reasons are good enough for Spencer, and he’s, generally speaking, pretty smart about some things. 

Maybe you’re tired of being human.

Maybe you’re tired of sleeping on your arm funny and waking up to a hand in your bed that doesn’t feel like yours and remembering all the hands you’ve held moments before they couldn’t hold yours back. Or tired of those moments where you are being held and it’s so unbelievably perfect and then someone has to let go, or when someone you love hugs you goodbye and you realize that there will always be a final I love you, or simply getting older and watching potential life paths fall away like rotten fruit to the ground. Maybe life is sometimes so good it hurts and you can’t bear it. So you tempt fate. You walk a tightrope because even if you fall and it can’t ever feel good again—at least it can’t hurt either. At least you won’t lose anymore. 

And yet. 

It does feel good, sometimes. Sort of often, actually. Even when it’s awful. 

Dead Jesus and Mary, with their marble skin and their bulletproof glass and their holiness and their virginity and all the other things they have that you don’t. Nobody can hurt them anymore. Not ever. 

Maybe that’s something you envy.

But you doubt they’ve ever been so terribly, wonderfully alive as you’ve been, or as comfortable as you are like this, leaning into Spencer’s warmth and his softness, in the hospital, or the Vatican, or your dreams. Your bicep was ruined but it’s healing. You are capable of ruin and rebirth in the same lifetime. In the same day, in the same hour. 

You doubt that in 520 years, behind bulletproof glass and unyielding, eternally flawless skin, they’ve ever felt as invincible as you do now. 

You doubt they ever could. 

[mrsstarkey1]

could be different - rafe cameron

a/n: new obx season ik thats righttt

// for the sake of story, sophia does not exist ! love her tho xo

// also so rusty guys if this is dogshit just tell me

summary: after the turtle incident at the beach, you have an unexpected conversation with rafe cameron

word count: 1.9k

obx masterlist

••

you stared out at the ocean, the waves rolling in steady and perfect. today felt different—like everything was lined up just right, the surf calling you louder than usual.

“yo, grab your board, let’s go,” jj said, practically bouncing with excitement.

you smiled and grabbed your hot pink surfboard from the sand, ready to join them in the water. just as you were about to run in, the low rumble of trucks caught your attention. three of them pulled onto the beach, kicking up sand. you already knew who it was.

being a former kook, you had a low tolerance for topper and kelce. rafe was another story—complicated—but you wouldn’t exactly call him your favorite person either.

the trucks drove by obnoxiously, the engines roaring louder than they needed to. you silently hoped they’d keep going. “please don’t stop, please don’t stop,” kie muttered beside you.

of course, topper’s truck swerved back around, kicking up more sand as it came to a stop. you sighed, hanging your head. this wasn’t going to end well.

topper strutted over to john b like he owned the beach, and the inevitable showdown started. you stayed back, sitting on the sand with your sunglasses on, doing your best to act like you didn’t care. you’d stopped getting involved in this pogue vs kook mess a long time ago. it only ever led to frustration.

your gaze drifted across the beach, settling—unintentionally—on rafe cameron. arguably the most annoying guy in north carolina. arrogant, reckless, always looking for a fight.

but hot damn was he fine.

you hoped your sunglasses hid your staring, but rafe’s eyes found yours anyway. for a moment, your gazes locked, tension hanging in the air. you forced yourself to look away, heart picking up its pace despite your best efforts.

rafe was bad news nowadays and you knew it. but no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, something always pulled you in.

jj’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “what are we all still standing around for? lets fucking surf!”

you catch a few waves, wiping out on the last one—not a bad fall, but enough to call it a day. you lug your board up to shore, tossing it down by your towel.

for a while, you lie back, soaking up the sun, drifting off in your own thoughts, completely unaware that rafe’s been watching you from across the beach.

later, as everyone’s packing the boards into the twinkie, the day feels like a huge success. kie slips the last board into place, and you all start piling into the van.

“guys,” kie suddenly exclaims, her voice high with excitement, “there’s a turtle hatch!”

you gasp and jump out of the van immediately, your eyes wide with excitement. together, you watch as dozens of baby turtles start their journey toward the sea, crawling through the sand.

“they’re so cute,” you smile, watching them with an almost childlike awe.

“so tiny,” sarah whispers, a grin spreading across her face.

“we gotta make a path for them,” john b says, already moving toward the turtles, clearing a way.

“yeah, turtle highway,” jj jokes, making you laugh as the group works together to make sure the turtles have a safe journey to the water.

but just as things feel perfect, you hear the distant rumble of an engine. your head whips around, spotting a truck tearing down the beach—straight toward you and the turtles.

“hey!” you scream, waving your arms wildly, trying to get their attention.

panic flashes through your group, everyone shouting and waving their arms, trying to make the truck stop.

“stop! there’s a hatch!” kie yells, her voice desperate.

the truck doesn’t slow down. if anything, it speeds up. your heart leaps into your throat as it barrels toward kie, who jumps out of the way at the last possible second.

“what the fuck?” you shout, your pulse racing.

the truck spins in the sand, kicking up dust and revving its engine. then, as if mocking you, someone throws a drink out the window, the liquid drenching you and kie.

“are you guys okay?” sarah rushes over, her face pale.

you nod, too angry to form words. kie runs to check on the turtles, kneeling down in the sand. her voice cracks as she picks up one of the tiny creatures, now lifeless. “no…”

you’re sick to your stomach. they think they own this place, think they can do whatever they want. but almost hitting kie? killing a defenseless baby turtle?

you take the turtle from kie, your hands practically trembling with rage. “what are you doing?” sarah asks, concern lacing her voice.

“enough is enough,” you mutter, storming across the beach.

jj trails behind loosely, always ready for confrontation.

“really, top?” you shout when you’re close enough, making the kooks turn toward you. “you almost killed kie. you feel good about that? still got that dumbass grin on your face?”

they all look at each other, unsure of how to react. topper shifts uncomfortably, trying to play it cool. “look, y/n, i get it—”

“no, you don’t,” you cut him off, holding up the tiny turtle for all of them to see. “look what you did.”

the group looks away, unable to face the damage they’ve caused.

“no, look at it,” you snap. “there was a turtle hatch, and you ran right over it. do you seriously think this is okay?”

no one answers.

ruthie speaks up, an obnoxious smile on her face. “it’s just one turtle. there’s like, a hundred of them.”

you whip your head toward her, fighting the urge to slap her, “yeah? why don’t i run you over with a truck then? there’s like a thousand bitchy kooks, right?”

topper scoffs, looking you up and down. “i don’t know why you’re acting all high and mighty, y/n. you’re just a wannabe pogue now, but deep down? you’ll always be one of us. a spoiled kook pretending to fit in.”

his words hit harder than you’d care to admit. you open your mouth to fire back, but before you can, rafe steps forward, jaw clenched.

“top, shut up.”

topper looks at rafe, surprised. “what, man? i’m just telling the truth.”

“let’s just go. not worth it,” rafe mutters, his voice low, turning away from the group.

you lock eyes with rafe for a brief second, your anger still simmering, but his quiet apology lingers in your mind. “just stay the fuck away from us,” you snap before turning on your heel, heading back to your friends.

even as you leave the scene behind, the interaction stays with you. topper’s words. rafe stepping in. it all plays on a loop in your mind, like an itch you can’t quite scratch.

the rest of the pogues decide to head back to meet pope, but you tell them you need some space, some time alone. the beach feels quieter now, just the waves and a few stragglers as the sun begins to set on the water.

you’re watching the water intently when a voice comes from behind you, “hey.”

you nearly jump, your heart pounding as you turn around. it’s rafe, standing there with his hands shoved into his pockets, a cautious look on his face.

“sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his voice softer than usual. he glances at the ground for a second before looking back at you, something unreadable in his eyes. “look, um, about earlier…”

you cross your arms, your guard still up, but the way he’s standing there, almost unsure of himself, catches you off guard. rafe never looks unsure.

“the turtles, that was fucked,” he continues, his voice low. “i should’ve stopped it.”

you raise an eyebrow. “but you didn’t.”

“yeah.” he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “i’m sorry.”

you don’t respond right away, the tension between you thick in the air. you can tell he’s waiting for something—for you to lash out, or maybe just get up and walk away. but for some reason, you stay. “you can sit, if you want,” you say.

he hesitates, and you think for a moment that he’ll just walk away. but no, he plops himself down right next to you.

you sit in silence for a few minutes, and to your surprise it’s not awkward silence. it’s comfortable. it reminds you of years ago when you considered rafe a friend.

what you say next shocks yourself, “i’m sorry about your dad, rafe. we haven’t really um- talked, since then.”

his eyes shoot over to you, clearly also surprised by your words. he clears his throat, “thanks,” he says softly, looking back out into the ocean.

you stare at him, taking in his features now that he’s sitting so close. the hard edge in his expression is gone, replaced by something softer. his eyes, normally sharp and guarded, are distant as they reflect the fading sunlight, a mix of blue and gray that you hadn’t noticed before. his jaw clenches, then relaxes, as if he’s holding back words he doesn’t quite know how to say.

“i didn’t really expect you to say that,” he admits, his voice low, almost lost in the sound of the waves.

“i didn’t expect to say it,” you reply, offering a small, unsure smile.

rafe turns his head slightly, looking at you now with an intensity that makes your heart skip. the cool, cocky demeanor you’re used to isn’t there. instead, he looks… real. vulnerable, even.

“you always were different from the rest of them,” he murmurs, as if to himself, his gaze lingering on your face. the compliment catches you off guard, and for a moment, you forget the mess of emotions surrounding everything that’s happened.

the air between you shifts, heavy with something unspoken, but it doesn’t feel suffocating. it feels like a thread connecting you both to a time before everything got complicated.

without really thinking, you reach over, your hand brushing against his. it’s subtle, just a light touch, but it’s enough. his hand turns over, palm up, and for the briefest second, you let your fingers rest there, feeling the warmth of his skin.

he doesn’t pull away, and neither do you. “thanks for letting me sit,” he says quietly, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. you nod, words failing you for once.

you stare at him again; the sun catches in his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability that feels out of place, and you realize how easy it would be to fall into this moment, to let the history between you blur everything else.

but you know you can’t.

“you know,” you say, your voice quiet but steady, “my loyalty is always gonna be with the pogues.” you meet his gaze, making sure he knows you mean it. “that’s never gonna change.”

rafe looks at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. then he nods, like he expected it but still needed to hear it. “yeah, i know,” he mutters, glancing down at where your fingers are still lightly brushing his hand. he doesn’t pull away, though. “doesn’t mean we can’t sit here and talk, right?”

you smile faintly, appreciating the honesty, the way he didn’t try to change your mind or make you feel like you had to choose between him and the people you care about. “no, it doesn’t.”

for a second, his face softens even more, like the weight of the world has been lifted, just for this fleeting moment between the two of you. and despite everything—despite the kooks and pogues, the drama and the history—sitting here next to him, watching the waves in comfortable silence, feels right in a way you can’t quite explain.

you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, rafe could be changing for the better.

••

requests are open 📩

[jo-com]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ➛ Clingy

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux

Summary: Charles and Alex gets so clingy it’s adorable

Genre: Short Fluff, Throuple!

Tw: not anything in particular js some grammatical error and mind u this is not profread

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

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Yn.cult just posted!

Liked by Charles_Leclerc, Alexandrasaintmleux, bellahadid and 2,389,210 others

Yn.cult 📍NYC!! Finally back at home💋

View all of the comments

Bellahadid No invites??

Yn.cult NEXT TIME I PROMISE

Bellahadid You better🤨

Alexandrasaintmleux Pretty as always ma fille

Yn.cult Stopp, you’re making me blush🤭

Charles_Lecler I think you’re pretty too!

Alexandrasaintmleux i said it first tho😐

User1 THE WAY THEY’RE FIGHTING OVER HER😭😭

User2 Nah cause i’d do the same ngl

Ex.bf Staying there too! Maybe we should hang out!

Alexandrasaintmleux yeah no.

Charles_Leclerc Agreed.

User3 he shoot his shot but got rejected twice😭😭

…

Yn.cult just posted!

Liked by Carlossainz55, Charles_Leclerc, Vougemagazine and 1,390,217 others

Yn.cult Omy to time square btw thanks for having me!💋

Tagged; Vougemagazine

View all of the comments

User4 How can one person look cute and hot at the same time

User5 it’s called the y/n effect✨

User6 Faxx☝🏻

User7 Nah who took the first pic?🤨

Vougemagazine lovely having you!

♥️ liked by the author

Alexandrasaintmleux Missing you so bad mon amour😢

…

Alex pouted, her brows knitted in a frown as she stared blankly at your post; constantly refreshing it to see whether or not you replied to her comment yet.

But every time she does, she gets disappointed—not seeing your reply just makes her grow fonder of your presence.

With a deep sighed, Alex turned off her phone and buried her face in y/n’s favorite pillow. The one she uses every time they sleep, the one that has her lingering smell on it, and the one Charles and Alex coddles up whenever they miss you. Which is constantly so they fight about whoever gets it.

Alex stared blankly at the ceiling, her mind was clouded with the thoughts of you. She just misses you so much it’s killing her. Literally.

The only reason you were out was because of your job; you love modeling that’s why they couldn’t have the guts to stop you from going. But now they just wished that they stopped you.

“Ughhhhh” she sighed, dragging the h along the tone of her boredness. Her voice echoing around the empty room which caught the attention of their boyfriend.

“What’s the matter, bébé?” Charles asked, peeking his head into the doorframe.

Alex lazily dragged her head up to face charles. “Everything’s cool, i just miss her is all” she mumbled, her voice laced with sadness and longing.

Charles smiled emphatically, he knows what it’s like to miss you— he’s going through that too but he’s not taking it as hard like Alex though. He’s trying to act strong for the both of them, i mean someone has to, right?

Alex felt the couch dipped down as Charles sat besides her frame. “Should we call y/n and see what’s she’s up to?” He asked, rubbing soft circles around her back.

“No” she replied all muffled due to her head still facing down and resting on your pillow.

She wanted them to call you; to hear your sweet voice. Alex wanted nothing more than that, but then again she doesn’t want to disturb you and ruin your fun.

“Let’s just watch a movie and try to get our minds of her, yeah?” Sighing defeatedly, alex nodded her head and muttered a low ‘sure’ making Charles smile happily.

So that’s what they did, they watched a movie, and ate all the food they could find in the house until they fell asleep.

They woke up the very next day— saw your recent post and started to miss you like crazy again.

…

Yn.cult just posted

Liked by Alexandrasaintmleux, Charles_Leclerc, urbff and 3,490,672 others

Yn.cult Miss my two pouty babies!💋

…

Got bored and wanted to make this, hope you guys enjoy itt!!

[dex0s]

—♡DOUMA X MALE READER WARNING: smut, non-con, cannibalism?, douma, reader having a huge chest, thoracic area called boobs/tits, daddy kink, face sitting, breeding kink, semi-public?, incest?, cliffhanger ending (only because I’m lazy), not proof read

A/N— okay I know I was gone for like 2 months but um— yeah

You were a member of his cult and your older sister got sick to the point she had to stay in bed instead of praying to your demon lord. For the past couple days you had been asking your lord to heal your sister. And at first DOUMA was uninterested or just ignored you but then he got a full look at you. (H/c) hair, beautiful bright (e/c) eyes, nice face, well shaped body, and lastly YOUR CHEST. Oh and how he was so in love.

“Oh look a new play thing. Just. For. Me~ and ONLY me~”

After that you notice changes. One, Douma would ONLY look at you if you in the room but the moment you leave his face becomes disinterested (even if he doesn’t have emotions he feels like his life just decrease by a life time). Two, you ALWAYS feel like you’re being watched no matter what you doing or where you are, there are always RAINBOW EYES watching. And three, when you go and pray to your lord you can notice the lust in his eyes like a predator eyeing their next meal.

“I can’t believe I haven’t noticed you sooner… I wonder if that man will let me keep you~ who know maybe I will quit bugging him~”

Knowing damn well that man can hear him

One time you went to douma and asked for his blessing so your sister could get better and by pure coincidence your sister gotten better and could move around better then before. You thanked douma for the blessing but even tho it was a complete coincidence douma wanted more than just a thanks. He gave you his blessing and healed your sister. He wants more and he will get want he wants whether you want it or not .

HaAh~ Oh you tastes Sooo~ good~ Your so good—Fuck! for daddy~

Grinding your hips into the pillow while Douma is thrusting in and out your ass. “Ahh~ you look like dog when you do that~” Douma said, moving his hand up your body and stopping at your chest. “W-wait~AH!” Slamming his cock back in he starts to grope your chest. “Hmm! What a— good boy you are, so good— for daddy” you start to feel yourself about to release and you try to warn your lord but all that came out was babbles. Douma seem to notice this and started to go even harder on you hearing your gummy walls take him in and out and all the noise you were making made him even more hard then white sticky cum came out your dick but that didn’t stop Douma in fact he decided to switch it up a lot bit.

He lifts you over his face, your legs are shaking then slams you down on his face. Taking his long slimy tongue starting with kitty licks, suddenly roughly gripping your thighs and full on eating your ass like there’s no tomorrow. When the door opens (you didn’t even notice at first) it reveals your sister. Your sister was in shock, she didn’t know you had a side like this. Hearing your moans and the licks your sister can feel a wet spot in her undergarment. While your sister was standing there Douma could smell her wetness and started to get upset.

“Why is she here.”

“She needs to leave can’t she see I’m playing with my plaything.”

“It’s her fault he’s in this situation”

“She shouldn’t be so selfish and get sick”

“You know what… It’s show time”

Taking out his tongue from your ass, he moves you to his lap. Picking you up with your legs wrapped around his waist Douma starts to walk to your sister. “You know it’s rude to stare” using one of his free hands and roughly grabbing your sister’s chin forcing her to look at his rainbow eyes. “W-what are you doing to my brother!” Yelled out your sister that was trying to force Douma’s hand off of her and trying to reach for you, when Douma grabs the hand that was reaching for you and pulling it off her body. Finally snapping out the trance you hear a bloody cuddling scream. Turning your head around to see your sister on the ground clutching her shoulder but before you can say anything you were placed on the ground on all fours in front of your sister.

“Why don’t we put a show on for your sister~ hmm dear~”

[5sospenguinqueen]

I'm Thirsty, Refreshing - Charles Leclerc x Gasly! Reader

Summary: Pierre is horrified by his sister's public attempts to catch his Monegasque friend's attention

Warnings: Suggestive. Thirsty comments. Swearing. Down bad reader.

Gasly reader. Pinterest pics

F1 Masterlist

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gasly_yn just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others

gasly_yn forza ferrari sempre

4,309 comments

pierregasly what the fuck 

pierregasly wrong team

pierregasly when did this become a whore house

→ gasly_yn that’s not very hot girl summer of you 

user1 pierre going through the seven stages of grief

francisca.cgomes serving body

→ gasly_yn thank you for looking through 100s of pics for the right ones

→ pierregasly @/francisca.cgomes don’t encourage this! 

→ fransisca.cgomes but she looks hot liked by charles_leclerc

alpinef1team well, we all know who you’ll be supporting this weekend

→ gasly_yn yeah, your other driver 

→ pierregasly you take that back! that's worse

→ user2 i love when the gasly’s are messy on main

lilymhe and whose attention would we be trying to catch today? 

→ gasly_yn only yours

→ alex_albon no

→ gasly_yn these drivers never let me have any fun

carlossainz55 looking good, female gasly

→ pierregasly back off 🤺

→ user3 c’mon carlos, we all know she’s only here for charles liked by charles_leclerc 

landonorris i’m definitely looking at the shirt 👀

→ gasly_yn uh huh, what colour is it?

→ landonorris papaya

→ arthur_leclerc she doesn’t do british, mate

charles_leclerc *gulp*

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pierregasly just posted

liked by gasly_yn, francisca.cgomes and others

pierregasly people were asking for more piarles (?) content tagged: charles_leclerc

5,558 comments

gasly_yn oh wow. i am stunned

gasly_yn and not because of you. we all know i’m the better looking gasly anyway

gasly_yn why don’t you bring him home anymore

→ pierregasly because you wouldn’t stop trying to steal him

→ gasly_yn kiks, leave him

charles_leclerc i am flattered

→ user4 omg just respond to her instead of acting like you’re responding to pierre

→ user5 give the girl a chance

francisca.cgomes i can hear her barking from here

→ lilymhe she’s actually salivating 

→ gasly_yn where’s the girl code

→ user6 not the girlies exposing her

danielricciardo mate, who’s managing to make you look good in photos

→ gasly_yn hi, me again. i actually claim photo credits but he didn’t tag me

→ pierregasly i was kind of hoping you wouldn’t see this post. it was hard enough wiping the drool off your mouth when you were there  

→ gasly_yn don’t expose me

→ gasly_yn plus, i have his notifs on so i don't miss a thing

→ pierregasly i half expected you to lick him after that basketball match

→ gasly_yn says the one trying to go for a cock shot

georgerussell63 didn’t i see that ferrari hoodie in your suitcase last weekend, yn? (this comment has been deleted)

user6 xoxo gossip george 

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charles_leclerc just posted

liked by gasly_yn, oscarpiastri and others

charles_leclerc summer break ☀️

7.440 comments

user8 here before yn

→ gasly_yn think again babe

gasly_yn miss rabbit has fainted 

gasly_yn okay but the hands, the pecs, the bandana 

gasly_yn in the market for a new necklace

pierregasly why are we thirst trapping

pierregasly whose attention are you trying to grab

pierregasly oi, answer me

user7 yn and pierre match each other’s freak in the best sibling way possible 

carlossainz55 are you trying to kill her 

alex_albon i’ve sent lily to check that she’s still alive after these 

user8 who is taking the most boyfriend coded pics of Charles tho

→ user9 asking the real questions

georgerussell63 i don’t think ferrari would like you offing the competition’s sister 

gasly_yn the sun isn’t the only thing that’s hot in these pictures

→ pierregasly you’re embarrassing me 

→ gasly_yn my friends know you call yourself tripod, i’m not the embarrassment 

→ charles_leclerc she’s got you there, mate

lilymhe i watched her drop her phone after opening insta

→ francisca.cgomes and then walk into a doorframe

user10 not the grid and wags exposing my poor girl

→ user11 she’s so down bad. i can’t even defend her anymore

→ lilymhe neither can we

user12 anyone else think yn is freaking out because charles finally replied to her comment

→ user13 not all of you taking this seriously like she hasn’t known charles since they were kids

→ user14 literally. they’ve been friends for years. i’m pretty sure she knows how to control herself around him

→ gasly_yn um, babe. have you seen him? would YOU be able to control yourself? liked by charles_leclerc

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gasly_yn just posted a new story x2

charles_leclerc just posted a new story

pierregasly replied to yn's story you tell him to keep his hands to himself  → i know where he lives gasly_yn i didn’t know you liked me that much  pierregasly biologically i’m obliged to

pierregasly replied to charles' story stop touching her → release her hand charles_leclerc you’re the one who told me to finally ask her out! → you said you were happy that i would stop pining pierregasly yes but when you told me months ago that you were dating and keeping it under wraps → i believed that meant i wouldn’t actually have to see you with her → a heads up that you changed that would’ve been nice charles_leclerc drama queen pierregasly that’s it, i take back my approval charles_leclerc piss off, pois

pierregasly replied to yn's story yn, what the fuck → that better not be → i’m going to throw something  gasly_yn stop stalking me pierregasly how could you not tell me first!  gasly_yn you wanted me to tell you that i was going to fuck your friend? pierregasly i knew it was date night but i never thought gasly_yn you didn’t imagine your sister and your friend in bed together? i think that’s considered normal, pois pierregasly i hope he wrapped it. don't need more of you in the world gasly_yn go away! 

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pierregasly just posted

liked by scuderiaferrari, arthur_leclerc and others

pierregasly i actually miss when they were just messaging me about each other. now they make out in front of me. much worse tagged: gasly_yn, charles_leclerc

10,199 comments

user13 not pierre hard launching them

gasly_yn he used to talk about me?

→ charles_leclerc all the time <3

→ pierregasly all. the. time

alex_albon does this mean we can stop acting like we haven’t seen them making out around the paddock for the past few months?

→ georgerussell63 and in his car

→ landonorris and in the back of clubs

→ gasly_yn 2019 rookies were the worst thing to happen to f1

→ charles_leclerc i thought we were discreet?

→ pierregasly mate, you drool over her as much as she does you. neither of you have ever been discreet

arthur_leclerc at least they dial it down in front of you

user14 wait, you’re telling me they’ve been together for months. what about all of yn’s thirsty comments??

→ charles_leclerc i was sat next to her as she was writing them

→ gasly_yn can confirm those had him giggling 

maxverstappen1 wait, does this mean he’s replaced me as his padel partner?

→ pierregasly he said he actually wanted to win

→ gasly_yn plus if he does lose, i give better consolation prizes ;)

→ pierregasly ew! dirty! 

→ francisca.cgomes querido you have said worse to me in front of her

carlossainz55 the worst day was when she wore the ferrari vest under her alpine shirt. should’ve learned to knock before entering his driver’s room

→ pierregasly NO! In public! 

scuderiaferrari ha stole your girl

→ alpinef1team how dare you 

→ pierregasly yeah, you tell them. you can’t have her

→ charles_leclerc MY girl

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Requests welcome

I am currently working on a written Lando fic about him and driver! reader being fwb with angst so bare with me lol

Tag list

@rosecentury @peachiicherries

[rafesveryrealgf]

thinking about how i just knooooww rafe doesn’t give a single fuck if people can hear you two banging in his room. it’s the evening and sarah and the pogues all just got back inside from swimming. they’re hot and tired and decide to hang in the living room until they’re cooled off. meanwhile you’re upstairs in rafe’s room, in missionary with your leg thrown over his shoulder and he’s going crazyyy. you actually have respect for the people downstairs so you’re trying to stay quiet (and failing) but honestly, the headboard hitting the wall continuously is proof enough that you’re fucking. rafe is just so uncaring and selfish about it tho. he’s going so hard you’re almost convinced he likes that other people can hear you. sarah is fed up with it (obviously not her first time hearing you guys) so she goes to knock on rafes door. he ignores the first couple of knocks, still thrusting inside of you because he’s determined to make you come. but you can’t even orgasm now knowing there’s people listening. you tell rafe that. rafe can’t have that. so he stops fucking you, throws on some boxers and open his door to find a very annoyed sarah standing there. “everyone can hear you two, you know?” she eventually says and rafe is standing there like…tell me something i don’t already know? your face is hot from embarrassment. rafe finally just says “ok..?” to her. like, now what? and sarah just rolls her eyes and scoffs, eventually stomping away out of defeat. rafe shuts his door and removes his boxers once again. he gets back on the bed and lines himself up with your entrance again. “we have to be quiet, rafe.” you tell him. and he just gives you that cocky little smirk in return. “no, you have to be quiet.” is all he says while sliding his tip between your slit.

soon he’s thrusting into you again like he’d never stopped and like before, you’re trying to suppress your moans and failing miserably

[hungharrington]

hi, gorgeous. currently daydreaming about steve’s innocent, shy girl climbing on top of him while he’s in a chair and she’s ready to ride him but his huge hands settle on her hips to stop her and she’s looking at him all confused and ready to do her part but he just says “just sit here and look pretty for me,” before he begins to absolutely pound into her, one hand on her hips and the other holding her jaw to make her look at him. he’s just praising the hell out of his little angel baby for taking him so good because he’s just so big. the mental image of his furrowed brows and clenched jaw as he watches her completely melt on his lap from pleasure has me clutching my peARLS

– sittin’ pretty

U KNOW WHAT!! UR THE DEVIL! THE DEVIL!! anyways this request had me feral the moment i started writing it… it gets a little soft at the end tho fem!reader, light choking, hella praise kink, what the request says basically <3 and around 1.7k MDNI this entire blog is 18+

It’s hard to press down your shyness as you tug the tight elastic of your underwear down your calves. They pool at your ankles. You step out of them and resist the urge to cave in and cover yourself. 

“C’mon, c’mere sweet girl,” Steve says softly, his hands smoothing over the top of his tan hairy thighs. He pats them to urge you over. 

Everything feels a bit stilted as you tiptoe over to the big comfy armchair he’s seated on, with his thighs parted. You can feel a surge of slick between your thighs at the sight of his aching cock, the head all pink and drippy just for you. It lies back against his happy trail, the vein on the side prominent. 

Steve offers you his hand, palm up. You take it and let your knees gently find either side of his hips, hovering hesitantly above him. Heat swirls between you, mixing with the fog of lust that emanates heavily from Steve. His adoring face gazes up at you, but his are eyes dark in a way that makes your tummy twist up. 

“Hi, pretty.” He murmurs, guiding your face down for a kiss. You sigh into it sweetly, hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Hi.” You whisper back, against his lips. His kiss and reverent gaze give you courage, leaning back to plant one hand on his knee. Your other hand reaches between your two bodies and curls around his throbbing cock. It’s warm and hard, twitching at the sudden stimulation. Steve hisses lowly, his tummy flexing as pleasure jolts through him. 

Even though you’re shy, that doesn’t mean you’re not impatient. Today, there will be no working him up til he’s begging to be inside you, no matter how much you desperately want to. Instead, you waste no time, tilting your hips forward to let the head of his cock catch against your entrance in a way that makes you moan. Your thighs ache a little with the slow pace you lower yourself — but Steve’s cock is always a stretch. 

It stings, just the slightest, but enough to make you revel in it. You sink down, hand shifting forward to hold his hip to prop yourself up, and your eyes flutter shut in pure ecstasy as his hard cock stretches you open— unaware of how Steve fights to keep his eyes open, drinking in every minuscule expression on your face. 

“That’s it, honey,” He coos, sweeping his hand up your hip to tug you down an inch more. You mewl, body shuddering as you clench around him. It feels fucking mind-melting how good he feels filling you up. “That’sssss it.” 

You’re whimpering by the time he’s fully hilted in you, your thighs pressed down against his own. Steve’s panting a bit, hairy chest rising and falling as he struggles to keep himself in control. You’re so wet, so warm, and god, you’re still so shy even when you’re sitting on his cock — averting your eyes even as your tight little hole clenches around him. When did he get so lucky?

Try as you might, there’s not stopping the pitiful gasp that comes out when you lift yourself back up, his cock gliding almost all the way out of your cunt. You can feel the mess you’re already making on him, can already feel the subtle ache in your thighs but none of it deviates you from your plan. You’re going to ride your boyfriend like there’s no fucking tomorrow. 

But right as you prep yourself to sink back down, Steve’s hands stop you, shooting out to grab you by the hips. You pause. Shyness creeps back in. 

“Wha…? Is something wrong?” You ask. 

Steve’s quick to comfort, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek. “Hey, hey, everything’s fine. I just—“ He shift his hips up a bit and you shiver, eyes fluttering closed without thinking. When you open them again, he’s grinning. 

“I just want you to sit here and look pretty for me, hm?” He leans up to kiss your cheek and it makes you entirely too distracted for what happens. 

His tummy clenches, muscles tightening, as his hips suddenly snap up, thrusting his cock back deep into you. You squeal. 

“Steve!” Your hands propel forward, grasping his shoulders, but he doesn’t pause. His hands on your hips tighten as he holds you in place, drilling up into your wet cunt, hard and fast. Pleasure dribbles through your core, hot and melty. His thighs slap against your own, causing them to buckle and you sink down a little lower — only forcing his cock deeper inside you. 

You whine, all of a sudden overwhelmed, and tuck your face away— all too aware of how every time he fucks up into you, you make a needy little uh. 

And, well, that just won’t do. With one hand keeping your hips secure, his other wanders up, creeping in around your neck. Even as he fucks you roughly, his touch is still gentle. His big hands can stretch across the expanse of your jaw— and he uses it to coax your head up. You’re already looking teary eyed, warm enough in the face that he can feel it with his hand, all from how much you’re enjoying it. Steve loves it. 

“Baby,” He manages to rasp out sweetly. You gasp, hiccupy and high pitched, embarrassed by the wet squelchy noises he’s fucking out of your cunt. “Look at you, my baby. Doing so good for me, huh? Taking it so well, angel.” 

You lean into the hand around your throat further, letting him curl his fingers around it a bit tighter. One of your hands flies up to grasp his wrist, needing, craving the connection. 

“Steve,” you cry, delirious from the pleasure. His cock fills you over and over, unravelling you from the inside. “Steve,” You repeat his name uselessly, mouth hanging open as a whiney moan takes over. 

“I know, I know.” He coos, sweet as he can be while ruining you on his cock. He’s got a furrow in his brow, his jaw set, perfect brown eyes searching your face— always looking for which button to press next, which way to make it better for you. God, you love him. 

“So fucking good, isn’t it angel?” He grunts. “Perfect fuckin’ cunt, just made to take my cock, isn’t she?” 

“Yes!” you keen, the words tearing from your mouth. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck,” Pathetic whimpery noises flow out freely, your grip around his wrist tightening as you feel heat gather low in your tummy. 

“G-God, fuck,” Steve groans, the first hint of desperation leaking into his words. His hand around your throat tightens in the slightest, a soft pressure that has your head spinning. “Can fucking feel you getting close.” 

His words make you moan, your thighs slipping further down — your hand shoots out to brace against the arm of the chair, desperate to keep him going, to reach your peak. 

“Your—“ A whimper slips into his voice. “Fuck. Your pussy gets all tight when she wants to cum— y’wanna cum?” 

You’re nodding along before he’s even finished his sentence. With how hard he’s fucking you, hips thrusting up against yours, it’s a wonder he can even see it. You whimper out a “Yes.” just in case. 

“I know you do.” He groans loudly. “Deserve to, too. You’ve been so good, so fucking good, yeah?” 

His hand holding your hip slips forward, snaking towards your clit and pleasure twists the coil in your tummy up tighter and tighter. His rough thumb pushes against it, sloppy but effective. You wail. 

“Y’deserve to cream all over my cock like a good girl, don’t you?” He rasps, throat a bit wrecked from every sweet sultry noise thats passes his lips. 

You’re not even sure if it’s words coming out your mouth anymore, just a whiney mess of yes’s tangled up in your moans. Steve whines, the rhythm of his strokes beginning to falter as his own orgasm begins to rear up. You whine and your hips move on their own accord— bouncing down on his cock to meet his thrusts midway. 

“Yes, yes, fuck, you’re so good, y’look fucking perfect bouncing on my cock,” Steve rambles, that perfect pussy-drunk expression beginning to take over him. His moans turn to whines and with one desperate whimper of your name, you topple like a house of cards. 

Pleasure unravels you. Your hips stutter and drop down, trying to cram every inch of Steve into you as you can, while your other hand claws weakly at his tummy. Heat scorches every nerve inside you, delicious and overwhelming all at once. 

The scratch of your nails, the clench of your wet cunt, the pitiful crying noise you make, all of it sets Steve off — his back arching and hips bucking up, trying to get more of your hot, wet pussy. His face screws up, a high whine tearing out his throat as his hands grapple to circle around your back, trying to get you closer.

It’s a sweat press of skin, chest to chest. You twitch and moan, face tucked away safely in his neck, as Steve lets all his noises out into the curve of your own. It’s deeply intimate — enough to make your shyness peek back up when Steve digs his face out after a minute of laboured breathing. His face is pink, his expression blissful. 

“You,” He huffs tiredly, eyes scanning your face worriedly. “You okay? Wasn’t too rough?” 

You melt a bit, a breathy laugh escaping you. “Yeah, I’m okay.” You chuckle. Nerves rear their ugly head within you before you can flatten them. “Was I— that was good?” You check. 

Steve laughs softly, nuzzling in closer to you. He smells fantastic. You can’t help how you mirror him, nosing along his cheek, letting your eyes slip shut. 

“Baby, I think you melted my brain.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

[soobnny]

dating him | bang chan

❝ have i told you how beautiful you look this morning? ❞

CHAN | lee know | changbin | hyunjin | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin

chan as ur bf wow congratulations

it’s giving strangers to lovers if i’m being fr

u just meet on a random tuesday like nothing out of the ordinary

conversation is made and for SOME reason, chan always feels the cogs in his head stop turning when he’s talking to u

like it feels like he’s constantly on the run all the time so how come with u it’s so different

what did u do to him

well wtvr long story short, he FELL

fell hard

now he’s ur bf

ok hear me out

perk #1: unlimited supply of his hoodies

he’d love it too .. when u wear his hoodie

doesn’t even try to act upset or bothered that u’re stealing his clothes

sometimes he’s the one to even put it on ur bed so u can wear it after u shower

or when u’re coming home from the dorm and when u open ur bag .. oh! his hoodie!

“ah, i must’ve misplaced it 😅😅😅”

yeaaaaaaaaah sure

sure u misplace the hoodie in ur very pink bag instead of his black bag

u’re not very slick christopher bang

u don’t mind tho

his hoodies are always xxxxl in size and it smells like him

perk #2: u have ur own man wife

that man knows how to do everything

he can fix ur sink, build u a table, put oil on ur doorknobs so they don’t harden, can clean, like what can’t he do

have u seen hometown cha cha cha? he’s giving very Chief Hong in his skills

(minho does too but we’ll talk about him in his post)

oh, did i mention he can cook too

one of his favorite little mini dates is when u just go thru cookbooks together

and then … cook

i’m sorry this man is a sucker for domestic things like this

and cooking together means u also grocery shop together

a fun challenge he made up is where u pick up random ingredients and try to make something decent out of it

maaaaaan he’s just giving husband

anyways back to cooking

imagine him in the kitchen right

and he’s tasting something new he made

ofc u’re curious too cos wow whatever the hell he’s making smells and looks good

when you try to ask him if you can taste it, he’d KISS you

“how do you like it? 😏😏😏”

😳😳😳😳

he’s getting bold

he does strike me as shy at first in relationships

and then when u’re together for long, u’re like damn this man kinda freaky

perk #3: his dog

berry loves u

like sometimes even more than chan

(it’s bc u give her extra treats when u can)

u walk his dog together early in the morning

it’s kind of become routine

u’d just get out of bed with messy hair and still in ur pajamas while chan is perfectly ready bc he loves waking up early when he can

u don’t even care that u look like a mess

bc chan always reminds u how beautiful u are every morning

so … messy hair and pajamas … putting the leash on berry and walking outside

it’d just be quiet mostly on the walk

there’s no need for conversation with chan sometimes

chan would say he finally knows what peace means after meeting u

his favorite scene ever is coming home and finding u asleep on the couch with berry

he has a million pictures of that on ur phone

like different days, same scene

sets it as his lockscreen even

on nights u can spend together, u enjoy watching cringy christmas movies w him

cue recreating the scenes

except it’s a massive failure bc both of u just can’t stop laughing

u especially love those christmas movies one

“I DONT HAVE A TWIN WE CANT RECREATE THE PRINCESS SWITCH”

u end up just falling asleep together

ofc not without cuddling and intimate kisses

chan finds he sleeps easier bc of u

he used to always find it so difficult to fall asleep before

so how come it’s as easy as closing his eyes now

btw u two most probably have promise rings

and he most probably wears it as a necklace

and he loves hugging u from behind

chan loves being able to nuzzle his cheek on ur back and hold u

he’d probably do that thing where u’re unaware and then BAM a pair of arms around ur waist

his chin on ur shoulder

oh Wow….. wow i just made myself crazy thinking about that

he’d lean in to kiss ur neck or ur chin bc it’s closest access

and he’d just look at whatever the hell u’re doing

chan loves looking at u

does that sound creepy

he just loves observing u ok !!!!!!

esp when u’re doing something u love

his heart goes 💗💞💕💕💝💘💖💞💓💓

bc that’s his baby

he just adores u tbh

u could just be standing there and chan’s looking at u with heart eyes

anyways whatever CONGRATULATIONS

u guys will probably last forever bc he’s whipped and so in love

he’s giving me the More In Love vibe

like when he falls, he FALLS

happy 4 u

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy