Reblog If You’re Black Tumblr

I have a disease

hiii i was just reminded of this song & thought it was v angsty rafe coded so if you’re still accepting requests for your 5k celebration (congrats sm again btw!!!) may i req a 🍪 with sober by elita?

₊˚⊹ᰔ 𝐬𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫

pairing: dark!rafe x bambi!reader

summary: ❝when i'm with you i float on a cloud, but you cover my mouth and leave my legs bound. i'm scared that i gave you all of the control. i can't get up, i've dug myself into a hole.❞ — a back and forth match about rafe’s sobriety ends with him between your thighs.

warnings: dark themes, drug use, mentions of addiction and sobriety, arguing, yelling, rafe drugs you, dubcon (?), rough sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, slapping, choking, crying, dacryphilia, no aftercare whatsoever :(

word count: 1.2k

a/n: this is out of the norm for me to write, pls read warnings carefully and don’t read any further if you’re not comfortable <3 participate in this poll if you’d like!

“what are you doing?” you froze, eyes puffy and red from crying. rafe looked up from the small bag of blow between his fingers, his eyebrows knitting in irritation. “what the fuck does it look like?” he sneered, his knee bouncing as he itched for his next bump. you watched him take the white powder on his finger, wasting no time in rubbing the substance on his gums. your heart broke for him. “you said you were going to stop..” you stepped closer to him, the tears flowing once again.

“yeah? well, what else can i do?” he pushed you back, your hands catching onto his arm. “you promised me, rafe! you said it!” you cried, your boyfriend getting up before slamming you down on your shared bed. you released a breath, his manic eyes burning into yours. “look at you.” you whispered, his hand wrapped tightly around your throat. “how did we get here?” you croaked, panic settling in the pit of your stomach. rafe gritted his teeth, squeezing you tighter.

you started struggling against him, only being able to get out of his grip when you raked your nails down his chest. “you did this to yourself!” he shouted, punching the wall. “you choose to stay here, so i don’t ‘wanna hear shit.” rafe spat, turning around to shoot daggers at your crying form. “i just want you to be healthy. ‘n not high all the time.” you whispered the last part, your heart dropping when he narrowed his eyes at you. “what did you just say?” rafe stalked towards you.

“you know it’s true.” you scooted further up the bed, your heart hammering in your chest when he started laughing. “your eyes get so big, you scare me.” you flinched when he gripped the bedsheets, pulling them so he could get you close. “i scare you?” he laughed harder, “i’ll really give you something to be scared about.” you attempted to run, but he ultimately had the upper hand in caging you between his arms. “where the fuck do you think you’re going, huh?”

you shook your head, cupping his face. he looked like he was on the verge of going off the deep end. “no where! no where..” you were panting, afraid of what he might do. you had to be careful and watch your every move when rafe wasn’t in his right mind. any slip of tongue or the wrong movement would send him spiraling. “you trying to leave me?” his voice dropped a few octaves, his fingers shaking against your skin. “no. i could never leave you, remember?”

the fear in your eyes were as clear as day, and rafe knew you were lying out of instinct to stay on his good side. that only pissed him off more. swallowing thickly, rafe sat back on his heels, taking the small bag out of his pocket. “i didn’t want to do this to you, baby..” he took the tip of his finger and dipped it in. “but i promise you’ll feel so good.” with the powdery drug on his index finger, you started thrashing against him as he forced his digit inside of your mouth.

“no!” you screamed, but it was too late. rafe wore a wicked smile, popping the same finger in his mouth to get off the residue that didn’t smear against your tongue and gums. you stayed frozen underneath him, looking up at the ceiling as rafe got up from on top of you. not knowing where he went, or what he went to do, you laid there until you found it impossible to be still. getting up from the bed, you walked into the bathroom where you stared at your reflection.

your pupils were absolutely blown, a pang of hurt pulling at your heartstrings. you had given rafe so much control, that he did the unthinkable to you. speaking of the devil, you looked up at him as he emerged from behind the door, his eyes meeting your matching ones. he wore a smug look on his face, like he was proud of himself for corrupting you. “feel like you could run a marathon?” you were breathing fast, a thin sheen of sweat adorning your skin.

“how could you?” you turned around, his hands planting themselves on your hips. he felt hot, like his flesh was on fire. “don’t worry, bambi, you’ll be fine.” he kissed you, his taste just as intoxicating. if it wasn’t for the endorphins running through your veins at a million miles per minute, you would’ve pushed rafe away. instead, you felt like you needed to move, and fast. you kissed him back, the fervor between the two of you growing until he picked you up and carried you to your room.

nipping your bottom lip, you whimpered, the stinging sensation only making you cling onto rafe with more desperation. “gonna fuck you so good, baby. ‘have you coming down from that high around my cock.” he pinned you to the mattress, forcing your legs open as he slipped his shirt off in one swift movement. you gasped when he held both of your ankles in one hand, pushing down so your knees met your chest.

the sound of rafe’s zipper was the last thing you heard before he thrusted into you without warning, eliciting a piercing scream from your lips. he hadn’t got you ‘ready’ for him the way he normally did, your walls fluttering around the intrusion that was his throbbing cock. your back arched off of the sheets, your eyes watering as rafe merely used you to get himself off. he worked with precision, having no regard for you as he relentlessly slammed his hips into your own.

your nails dug into your skin, forming crescents as you cried underneath him. “rafe!” you tapped on his arm, which only agitated him. “shut the fuck up.” he said through gritted teeth, landing a slap to your cheek. holding your face, rafe looked down and groaned. he knew it was wrong to get off on you crying, but with lust and blow running through his system, he didn’t care. “you’re so mean.” you whined, your muscles aching as he started toying with your clit.

“i’m not mean. i’m the one who fuckin’ takes care of you,” he pressed a kiss to your calf, “so just lay there and take what i give you.” your eyes rolled back, your thighs trembling when his thrusts became sloppy. you hated yourself for falling into his ministrations, your orgasm ripping through you as rafe collapsed on top of you with a moan. “oh, shit.” he spilled inside of you, the thick ropes of his cum coating your velvety walls. he wiped your eyes before kissing your cheek.

you were coming down from both highs when he left you, the sound of the shower turning on in the nearby bathroom. you felt scared, not knowing what to think of your reaction to the drug you grew to hate so much. when rafe got out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, he didn’t spare you a glance before changing and plopping down on the edge of the bed. “you make me lose my temper when you wanna argue about shit like that. keep your mouth shut next time.”

jj maybank x heyward!reader

𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 - 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

˖♡ - ̗̀ ⇢ saw this tt about how these two toddlers shared their dad's notoriously rough bed head and this post when i opened tumblr last night and had to write smth for it! sorry, for the baby content 💀 i'll get back to writing y'alls requests now xxx

the careful messiness of brunette curls has been charles’s signature hairstyle for ages. it suits him, and when paired with his dimples and green eyes—it’s no wonder why every italian and monegasque prays for his success on sundays. well, maybe bleeding rosso corsa and winning two championships driving the famed red car are the proper reasons.

if only they knew that the artful styling of his curls is nowhere to be found after he sleeps. when he wakes, his hair is in absolute disarray—the deep brown ringlets are clumped together as they stick straight upwards and yet they manage to point in every direction possible.

when you first moved in with charles, you convinced him to buy a satin pillowcase to combat the bed head. it didn’t help, and neither did the bonnets you tried to have him wear. no matter if the ties were knotted, buttoned, or even velcro-strapped tightly, the bonnet would end up by the foot of the bed and his hair was in it’s usual disordered state by the early morning hours.

so, your morning routine begins with taming charles’s severe case of bed head. he awakens slowly as your fingertips gently untangle the deep brown ringlets, moaning lowly and nudging his head into your hand like a large cat when your nails glide along his scalp. you carefully guide each curl back into their assigned positions, tutting disapprovingly at the one strand that never seems to stay in it’s place.

charles’s chest shakes with a chuckle at your slight irritation and he shifts to meet your eyes, tenderly directing your hands away from his now orderly hair to his lips, pressing kisses to your fingertips before pulling you forward to cuddle into his chest.

you didn’t expect to have to deal with more than one head of messy hair. unfortunately, it seems like your daughter inherited her father’s bed head.

your mornings now consist of charles climbing out of bed at the first crackle of noise through the baby monitor, rushing to scoop the 9-month-old from her nursery and have her join the two of you in bed. he crosses the doorway with your daughter cradled to his bare chest and leo yipping at his feet—she stares up at at him, a perfect reflection of the sea green pools of his eyes, the absence of a bonnet, and the chaotic sprawl of his brunette curls. you’ve never been bothered with the fact that she’s an exact replica of her father, as some tried to tease that your genes didn’t do more than deepen her complexion. however, you always joke back that it means that she’s been blessed to be as beautiful as charles is.

she coos and babbles up at her father and he dutifully responds in french as if he understands her baby gibberish. he sits in bed with her on his lap and she beams, her little arms and grabby hands reaching towards you. you smile back widely, stealing her from his lap and greeting your babygirl with a flurry of kisses pressed all over her cute little face. her giggles ring through the air as you pull backwards to watch her laugh and, there’s another trait she shares with her father; deep dimples decorate her chubby cheeks and you can’t help but press your thumb into them with adoration.

charles picks up his first baby, plopping the mini dachshund in bed, and leo bounds forward to press his own kisses to your daughter’s socked feet.

addressing charles’s wild bed head will have to wait as you settle her back in his lap. you rest your head on his shoulder, apologizing for interrupting the clearly important conversation the two were having. you start fixing the jumbled ringlets on her scalp with the softest touch of your digits and she nuzzles up into your hand the same way her father does. he continues from were he left off, asking your daughter if she thinks a one-stop strategy is too ambitious for the next race and she babbles back to him in reply.

charles nods in agreement, promising her that regardless of a one-stop or two-stop, he’ll bring back his third championship trophy for her.

© httpsserene - do not repost. photos in header from pinterest.

"For almost 24 years, I grew up alongside the biggest club in the world - Real Madrid. Here I was taught how to win and lose. Fight and suffer. But above all, live life with the word that defines me as a person and a footballer: determination. With this determination, I defended this badge every second of my life, on and off the pitch. Today I can say with pride and passion that this club means everything to me. Of course also for my family. I have been driving practically the same road to training and matches for 24 years. Whenever I left the house, I thought it was like I wasn't leaving because I was going to my second home. To my second family …" "Mom, dad… It's all thanks to you. You made great effort and sacrifice for me and my brother Álex, who also achieved a great sports career. I would also like to thank my younger sister Maite, who traveled with me here and to the old center so many times so that we could show up for training. Thank you alkl for creating a strong family. And you, grandma. You're a role model for me for life." "I thank my wife Maria, the best person I have ever met in my life and who suffered so often in bad moments of my career. Without her, none of this would be possible. Thank you for taking care of me. And show me understanding. But most of all, thank you for creating this big family that we are. On this long and intense road, you never let go of my hand." "Alejandro, Nacho, Guille and Lola - you are a real team. And don't worry, Real Madrid will always be our home and our team. I've told you this many times. I am very proud of you, you are my champions. I love you very much." "I would also like to thank my friends and the rest of my family, because I could count on your unconditional support at all times. From now on we will support our Real Madrid together." "Finally, I ask you one thing: remember me as canterano who gave his all for his club. Every day, at every moment and in every place. From now on, I will scream after every success, goal and title of this amazing family. Hala Madrid!"

going to tell my grandkids what it was like being a hamilton and piastri fan at the 2025 chinese grand prix

lando/mclaren are refusing to admit they have a rocket ship bc they don’t believe that can pull this off and they don’t wanna look shit

max often admitted the car was a beast bc both him and the team never once doubted him. they knew he was going to win.

the switch up from lando saying max and lewis had the fastest cars so should win to "why does everyone talk about the car? too many questions in the media are about just the car” is outrageous. of course they are gonna ask about the car, it’s a motorsport. you aren’t out there running on foot.

mclaren are doubting themselves and i am sick n tired of the ‘underdog’ narrative.

that car is FAST and possibly illegal but that’s a separate issue. accept it, admit it, credit your team for what an great job they’ve done building that car.

me reposting this 🫡

me reposting all jude x black reader fics

god please take away all of the 1644’s pain double it and give it to Mclaren

👏🏾‼️

not to be that bitch. but if you, as a fellow white person, go and send hate or condescending messages to poc writers or artists bc they write poc reader or draw poc OCs or whatever, I'm gonna hunt you for sport. "I can't picture myself as a poc reader" fuck do you know how poc feel with how fucking racist a lot of fandoms are?? with how little inclusivity there is in stories written by white people? and they don't come to you bitches and shit on you, because they are decent human beings and know that you bitches actually don't care, because if you would, you would at least try to be more inclusive. also, how come you bitches are okay with the descriptions of reader that don't correlate with your own body (hair length, boob or ass shape, eye color, whatever it is) but as soon as reader is described to have features that are more distinct with poc you suddenly lose all your capabilities for imagination. yk why? because you're being racist like that. and you can say whatever you want about how you're "an ally actually" and all that crap bc at the end of the day, as long as you do this shit, you still are acting in racist ways, probably with racist mindsets deep rooted inside your brain. so go and work on that shit. no one is unfailable, but you should at least do your fucking best to not be a piece of shit every fucking day.