#but it is what it is now and I gotta make the best of it

[stellamarielu]

soft

jack abbot x female reader

summary: jack gets injured on his shift and you’re there to help him get stitched up, making it impossible for him to ignore the soft side you bring out in him— especially when it makes his heart rate jump alarmingly high.

content: just a whole lot of fluff, reader is a resident on robby’s shift and jack has a capital c crush, i’m talking down astronomically bad, cursing, lots of cheesy banter between robby and jack bc i couldn’t help myself, reader is described to be upbeat and positive, very sunshine x grump coded, also the reader wears bright colors and patterns from time to time [sorry if that’s not your jam it just has to be that way for the plot, you get it], mentions of a brief altercation, mentions of blood and stitches, bad medical terminology [don’t yell at me i tried my best]

word count: 3.5k

author’s note: ok so hi this is my submission for the A DOCTOR A DAY event! but it's also a request from the lovely and talented @letsgobarbs so I thought I'd put them together and make this bad boy. thank you loops for the extraordinary idea, and thank you to my lovely babies, @clubsoft @ananonymousaffair and @letsgobarbs for putting on such an incredible little event! very very excited to see all the entires! my assigned dialogue was, “nothing defines a man like love that makes him soft.” and the color i got was green!

A reoccurring psych patient, and an elbow straight to the eye, landed Jack a seat in his own emergency department.

“I’m fine,” his voice came out with a twinge of annoyance, and a profusion of frustration as he side-eyed Robby from across the room.

But he was indeed, not fine. He was annoyed— borderline livid— at the current situation.

He should be on his way home, not sitting in an open treatment room with blood trickling down the side of his face.

It was completely unintentional, just an unstable patient throwing limbs in an effort to avoid an IV. What he thought would be his last case of the day, was now the reason for his friend making jokes at his expense, while Jack waited to get his brow sutured up so he could finally go home. 

“Yeah Okay. Whatever you wanna tell yourself.” Robby’s voice filled the room as he gathered supplies for the simple procedure.

“If Gloria found out you got a work related injury and walked out of those doors without somebody clearing you— on my shift? She’d have my neck.”

“Whatever, just make it fast.” 

All Jack could think about was how last night’s shift felt like the longest one he’d worked in a while. Taking a hit straight to the face was just the cherry on top of a dreadful night. The comfort of his bed was starting to look unbelievably far away as his presence at the hospital persisted long after it was supposed to.

“What’s the rush? You got a hot date I don’t know about?” Robby’s expression was a little too amused for Jack’s taste, as he placed a pulse oximeter on his finger.

“Yeah actually, her name is a breakfast bagel from Cal’s and 7 hours of uninterrupted sleep.” Jack stared down at the contraption sitting on his pointer finger, almost chuckling to himself at Robby’s commitment to care.

“A pulse ox? You’re really serious about this whole Gloria thing huh?”

“Yeah she’s been on my ass lately. Plus you got hit pretty hard, gotta make sure you don’t go down on us. Your risk for a heart attack is only going up with your age.” The smug curl of Robby’s lips as he pulled at the latex of his glove, made Jack instinctively roll his eyes.

Before Robby could start stitching, Dana’s voice carried into the room as she passed by the open door, “Robby, we’ve got a motorcyclist coming in. Multiple open fractures, severe blood loss with trauma to the head, and a possible pneumothorax, about 3 minutes out.” 

Robby shot Jack a knowing look as if to say, sorry buddy, duty calls.

“Oh c’mon, you’ve got this in three minutes.” Jack was desperate to get out of the hospital and on his way home. He was right, they both knew Robby was more than capable of lacing up two or three quick stitches before he was needed on the incoming trauma.

“As much as I would love to sit here and miss potentially the best case of my day to be ridiculed by you, I’m gonna have to make your fucked up eyebrow somebody else’s problem. Don’t worry, I’ll leave you in good hands.”

The sudden smirk Robby shot his way, had confusion clouding Jack’s mind. It wasn’t until the smug attending was calling out your name, that Jack understood the motive behind Robby’s words.

“Oh, you have to be kidding me.” The murmured annoyance from Jack’s lips sent Robby chuckling.

The laugh was no doubt caused by the memory of a shared confession over a couple of beers not more than three weeks ago.

Jack and Robby went out for drinks on their day off. It was a regular occurrence, but that specific night was a little different, because that night, Jack let it slip that he thought you were pretty. 

The men were sat side by side at the bar, recounting some of their best cases of the week, when Robby brought up your impressive intubation record.

Jack’s comment on your abilities had Robby stunned into a quick moment of silence.

“Pretty and she knows how to clear an airway.”

It was a subconscious declaration of affection from Jack, spoken into his glass as he took a sip of beer. 

A meek confession that Robby clung to, because he’d always noticed it— the way Jack’s stare lingered a little too long on you in those fleeting minutes when your shifts overlapped.

It was impossible for him to miss his friend’s not-so-subtle flirting when you were around. He’d been patient, waiting for Jack to bring it up first.

“Just your type.”

Robby’s words met Jack in the same way, stumbling off his lips and into his glass before taking a swig.

You were one of Robby’s residents. One of his favorites actually. A phenomenal doctor, always one step ahead of everyone else and charting your own course without having to be told what to do, it made Robby’s life a whole lot easier. What didn’t make Robby’s life easier? Watching his best friend dance around his undeniable attraction to you. He knew better than anyone that Jack had been out of the game for a while.

In fact, he hadn’t seen him show interest in anyone until you came along. Over the three months of shy smiles and round-about compliments paid to each other in passing, you and Jack's interactions had become impossible for Robby to ignore. He'd even tried bringing them up multiple times to see if Jack would admit to having a crush on you, only for him to jokingly brush it off every time.

“You could ask her out, you know?” Robby kept nursing his drink, trying to look nonchalant because the moment he put too much attention on the topic, he knew Jack would shut it down. 

“Yeah, we’re not doing this.”

And there it was, right on cue. Shut it down, and brush it off, like he did every time.

“Oh come on Jack. She’s great, you’re great, I see the way your demeanor changes when she's around.”

“Oh does it now?” Deciding to indulge in Robby’s incessant need to meddle in his lovelife, Jack fed into his friend’s accusation with raised brows and chuckle on his lips. 

“Yeah you get a little softer.”

“And, what makes you think I’m not just tired after a long night of people griping at me.”

Robby let a brief blanket of silence fall over the two of them before adding one final thought to the conversation.

“Nothing defines a man like love that makes him soft.” Robby smiled as he said it. He knew Jack would give him a hard time for saying something so introspectively cheesy, but he also knew it would resonate with him whether Jack chose to admit it or not. 

“I’m sorry?” Jack nearly choked on his IPA at the abnormally poetic words leaving Robby’s mouth. 

“Did you just pull that right out of your ass or what?” He was giving Robby a hard time, but couldn’t deny the truth hiding in the statement. 

That night he went home and lost more sleep than usual thinking about you— playing out past conversations over and over again in his mind, just to hear you say his name, or to see the captivating curve of your lips. The visions kept him up, even if it was just glimpses of you in his memory.

Robby didn't bring up Jack's comment about you after that night.

A few lingering stares and silent chuckles slipped from him when he watched the two of you interact, but he decided against bringing up that specific conversation. He knew Jack would just dismiss him, and keep to his stubborn reservations when it came to you, so he didn't push. 

This was the first time Robby took a chance, venturing into the territory of Jack’s confessed feelings. The timing was impeccable, with him needing to find someone else to do Jack’s sutures. He couldn’t pass up the opportunity to force the two of you to be alone in a room together. 

“What can I say? I like watching you squirm,” a low giggle remained on his lips as Robby aimed his words at Jack, just before you appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, what’s going on?” 

Soothing with a gentle glimmer of energy, your voice flooded the room in mellow twilight and shimmering stars, hitting Jack’s ears in a way that instantly made his face heat up.

“Dr. Abbot here, took an elbow straight to the face first thing this morning. I was gonna stitch it up, but they need me on the incoming trauma.” Robby barely looked your direction as he spoke, but Jack couldn’t take his eyes off you, only a few feet from him, watching from the doorframe.

“Think you can handle it?” Robby glanced over at you as he joked, a grin stretching across his face.

“I’ve got it covered, boss.” You matched his playful tone, and the whimsical change of your voice made Jack’s eyes divert to the ceiling because— fuck Robby for doing this to him. 

“Make sure to keep an eye on his vitals, he took a pretty hard hit.” Robby’s voice carried from down the hall as he walked out of the room, leaving you and Jack alone.

You took to the space in front of Jack. 

Your body slid so effortlessly next to him, that he had to fight not to adjust his position under the sudden nervousness of having you so close. 

Drawing a quiet breath at the feeling of your thigh resting next to his, he sat still on the edge of the cot. You were on his right side, your left leg gently pressed against him as you leaned closer toward his body to get a good look at his face.

“Damn that’s bad. Someone really had it out for you this morning, huh?” Your fingertips barely touched his temple as you examined his forehead. An audible swallow pushed down his throat at the contact.

He didn’t know what was more embarrassing, his body’s immediate response to your touch, or the fact that he’d nearly been taken out by a patient, and you were the one witnessing him in such a vulnerable position. 

“Yeah well, he had a really effective defense response. I'll give him that.”

Thank god his voice didn’t betray him. His words came out clear and concise, despite the fluttering in his chest at your body right next to his.

Then you laughed. 

He really loved your laugh. In fact, he went out of his way to make jokes just to hear it. It was soft, but rich. The kind of distinctive, infectious sound you could hear in a crowded room ten years later and know exactly who it belonged to. 

“Well, I’m sorry you had to be on the receiving end of it.”

The laughter fizzled from your voice and was replaced with genuine concern as you cleaned his brow. The gentle passes of gauze against his forehead made his mouth go dry, only because he knew it was your fingertips behind the motion.

“Somebody’s gotta take one for the team.” His response was quick as he focused on the words leaving his mouth, trying not to think about the way your hands were working so carefully to take care of him.

Your presence made him nervous enough, but your touch? He couldn’t get a handle on the distraction of your fingers on his skin, even if there was a veil of latex and gauze in between.

You bent further forward into his body, the warmth of your thigh pressing harder against his as your hands carefully angled his head where you needed it, fingertips underneath his jaw, and at his temple. He forced his stare to the floor out of fear that looking into your eyes would send him straight into cardiac arrest.

Looking down at your shoes, he memorized the pattern of your laces to keep himself from thinking about the mildly intoxicating scent radiating from your body. He’d never been this close to you before— close enough to get a whiff of something fresh and so distinctively you.

Maybe it was your shampoo, or laundry detergent? Perfume perhaps?

Shoes. Back to your shoes. It was the same pair of white sneakers you wore most days, but the green socks peeking out at your ankles made him grin. A subtle smile that he was sure you wouldn’t notice as you prepared a needle at your fingertips. 

You always wore a pop of color, something to bring your own personal style into the doldrum of the ER.

It was something he shouldn’t have noticed; the patterned shirts you sometimes wore under your scrub top, the red hair tie you left on your wrist every so often, the memorable collection of colorful socks you constantly sported with your tennis shoes…

The subtle excitement of your accessories matched the bright charisma you brought into the building every time you walked through the doors. You appeared every morning like his own personal ray of sunshine, equipped with an irresistible laugh, sweet smile, and lime green socks. 

“Are you feeling okay?” His sock induced trance was broken at the sound of your voice— abrupt and concerned.

“Yeah, I’m good.” His eyes peered up only to notice your stare fixed on the pulse ox resting on his finger.

He almost forgot about it entirely, busy with the distraction of your proximity taking over his entire being.

“Your heart rate is just really high.” 

Of course it was. 

His heart was nearly beating out of his chest from the moment Robby called out your name earlier. 

“I’m fine.” He tried to move his hand further from your view, hoping to brush it under the rug, and get a move on with the mortifying interaction. 

“Are you sure? If he hit you hard enough to break skin maybe-”

“I promise. I’m fine.” He pulled out a tone in his voice that people usually didn’t argue with. It was a deep, commanding timbre that he had perfected over the years. It came in handy when he had an especially combative patient, or in this case an extremely beautiful woman hounding him for an incredibly humiliating confession as to why he couldn’t get a grip on his bodily reaction to her presence. 

“Whatever you say, Dr. Abbot.” Finally giving up the fight, you let a spirited air back into your words. Jokingly dismissing your concern, and trading it in for weary trust as you let him convince you that he was okay despite his alarmingly high heart rate. 

“But if you go AFib on me…” 

“I won’t,” his voice still held the same robust sound as he looked you straight in the eyes.

“Just stress.” He looked at you as he spoke, and the desperation in his eyes contradicting the tone of his voice.

His stare was tender, and almost pleading while his words spread through the room, sturdy and sure. 

“Or adrenaline or something… I’ll be fine.” He didn’t look away as he continued explaining the reason for his quickening pulse. You found it slightly unnerving, and undeniably endearing as he kept his eyes fixed on yours for far too long. His words began to trail quietly, slowly losing their robust momentum. 

Jack was in a complete daze. He made the mistake of looking up into your eyes, and now he was stuck, getting lost in the all too familiar color, illuminated by the concentration in your gentle stare. He was enamored.

“Well I’ll be quick so you can get out of here.” You reached down to grab some supplies before bringing your hands back up to Jack’s face, finally starting to suture his brow. 

“Although I’m sure Robby would’ve been done by now.” Your eyes zoned in on his injury, while Jack’s stare stayed trained on your face. 

“Eh, I’m glad you’re here and not him.” His voice was amiable and subdued, dripping with a delicate sound you’d never heard from him before. 

“Why’s that?” Still watching the careful work of the needle threading at his forehead, your eyes narrowed in focus, as the question formed on your lips.

“I’d have to deal with his smartass jokes. Plus, he’s too perky in the mornings.”

“And I’m not?”

He wanted to laugh at your question. Of course you weren’t too perky in the mornings. You weren’t too anything. You were perfect. 

“I don’t mind it when you are.” Your movements paused for a split second when the words left his mouth in that same strange, fragile tone.

You could feel his eyes watching- peering up, as you tried your best to keep your attention on your hands.

He felt you stop, internally panicking that he’d said something wrong, he kept talking. 

“I just- you’re different.” The words stumbled out, losing a bit of their fragility as they tripped over each other in an effort to reassure you. 

Your brows furrowed slightly at the word and Jack was convinced he’d just dug a deeper hole to bury himself in. 

“Different?” The one word question left your lips as they struggled to withhold a smile. 

You were amused at the way Jack was fumbling over his words.

It was rare to catch him in such a flustered state. You chalked it up to the fresh wound he’d just received, and his abnormally high heart rate that he really should be paying more attention to. 

“Pleasant.” 

Then you stopped. Longer this time. It must’ve been at least 30 seconds that your fingers paused their threading, as you glanced down at the pulse ox between sutures. Sure enough his heart was racing again.

110 bpm.

You would be concerned about his inevitable descent into a questionable cardiac rhythm if it weren’t for the way his eyes were fixed on yours. His stare was so deliberate, you could feel your own pulse quickening underneath the growing heat of your skin. 

“Pleasant? How so?”

112 bpm.

“You just have this way of making everyone happy. It’s subtle. You’re always smiling and positive, but it’s never performative, it’s just who you are.”

A warmth spreads through your body at the compliment, rolling like waves as each of his words washed over you, completely enveloping you in a state of coy flattery. 

“You’re just easy to be around.” 

The heat threatened to reach your face, as he continued talking. His words were nearly a whisper with his voice floating up to you, low and smooth. 

“I like being around you.” 

115 bpm.

You open your mouth before you’ve even decided how you want to respond to Jack’s innocent confession, then unexpectedly, a voice that’s not yours fills the room.

“Still not done in here?” Robby came barreling into the room. His presence was loud and boisterous compared to the sheepish exchange taking place between you and Jack.

He stopped a few feet into the room. Seeing your body so close to Jack’s, with your hands still working at the injury on his forehead, and your eyes locked on each other, seemed to make him apprehensive about continuing into the room, like he was interrupting something.

“Jesus, let the man go home.” His chuckle echoed around you as he decided to come closer, inspecting your work. 

“That was fast. What happened to that being the best case of your day?” Jack piped up from underneath your touch. He was careful not to move his head as he aimed his question at Robby, eyes averting to the man standing next to you. 

“Yeah, it went south pretty quick.” Robby’s voice finally found a level close to silence, as he watched in concentration while you tied off the last stitch. 

“You need some help there? I could send in one of the medical students-” He joked looking over at you. He knew you were quick. The way you were taking your time, being overly methodical with Jack, was out of character for you. 

“Very funny. I’m done.” You softly glared over at Robby as you took a step back, pulling your gloves off.

“See what I mean about the smartass jokes?” Jack’s eyes were on you, still holding a lingering softness from your unfinished conversation just moments prior. 

“Oh so I leave you two alone for a few minutes and you just use it to talk bad about me?” Pretending to be offended, Robby scoffed at the notion of you two discussing his comedic timing, watching as you and Jack just stared at one another.

“Something like that.”

Your response was hidden behind a smile while you and Jack stayed submerged in a brief moment of smitten eye contact and unquestionable curiosity, before you made your way to the open door.

“I’m gonna get back out there. Try not to take anymore elbows to the face Dr. Abbot,” You joked before taking a single step into the hallway, turning your back for a split second to look at him one last time.

“and I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

With that, you were already halfway down the hall, onto the next patient.

Robby stared at Jack with a goofy smile forming on his mouth as your absence left the room silent.

“Don’t.”

The single word snapped from Jack as he brushed past Robby, leaving the room before he could be hit with his friend’s smug confrontation.

He left for the day, but not before stopping by the triage desk on his way out, purposefully walking past you just to get one last glimpse of your smile for the day.

the pitt masterlist

[mattybsgroupie]

— MATT MAKES A MESS IN HIS PANTS

tw: sub matt + PISS kink + lactation kink — don’t read it if you don’t like it! this is a fetish, a kink, and none of this is real. it’s fanfiction, purely for entertainment purposes.

matt had been teasing you the entire day. he had slapped your ass, grabbed your tits and stolen several kisses — all without your permission. as nighttime arrived, you knew he’d want more.

he nuzzles his face against your covered chest, rubbing his beard on the cotton fabric. “didn’t you get everything you wanted today?” you ask, but matt denies. he tilts his head, looking at you puppy eyes “there’s something else” his gaze flickers between your breasts and your lips.

you simply nod, pulling your shirt up, revealing your swollen boobs. since you started trying for a baby, matt became even more obsessed with your breasts. he made sure to massage your flesh every chance he got, claiming “you gotta have a lot of milk for our twins”. the milk, however, came before the baby — you started lactating before even getting pregnant.

and matt was crazy about that.

you hadn’t planned — it just happened. matt was sucking your tits, as he always does, and a few droplets of milk fell on his tongue. every now and then he’d try to get some from you, not only because he loved the taste, but the whole act itself felt so familiar, so loving.

“nhng— you taste so good” matt muffles, taking a break from suckling. he swirls his tongue on your leaking nipple, kissing your hardened bud before latching his lips again. you could feel his cock growing against you, his hard-on too noticeable to pretend he wasn’t enjoying it.

it doesn’t take long until matt pulls away, squirming on top of you. “all worked up?” you tease, and he shyly nods. but there’s something else bothering him besides the aching sensation inside his pants. “fuck” he cusses out, adjusting his position on your lap. “i gotta go pee real quick” matt says, placing a kiss on your cheek.

as matt tries to get up, your grip on him grows tighter. you don’t allow him to move, forcing his hips down. “finish what you started” you say, looking down at your bare, leaking chest. matt widens his eyes, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. “baby, i really have to go” he insists.

“who said you can’t go?” you respond, one of your hands reaching the back of his head, gently tugging at his brown locks. “please i— i’m gonna pee my pants” matt’s jaw falls slack, as if there’s too much to process. your boobs are hanging in front of him, his cock begging for some relief as his bladders fills with more liquid.

you pout at him, filled with faux sympathy. “yeah? is someone gonna make a mess inside his pants like a little boy?” you tease, palming matt through his jeans. he lets out a moan, trying his best to keep himself distracted from the growing pressure on his lower tummy. “mama” he says — finally giving in — “please please i can’t hold it”

“can’t hold it?” you continue to fondle matt, getting a grip of his hardened shaft, slowly pumping it, causing matt to h whine at the friction “well, you’re not going anywhere until you finish what you started”.

matt nods, uncomfortably shifting on your lap. he goes back to your chest, hungrily sucking on your tits as he moves his hips against your thighs. “i can’t— ‘m peeing!” matt muffles against your breasts as he notices his bladder giving up. the sudden warmth spreads through his jeans, leaking it down your thighs. his cock twitches even more, overwhelmed by the sudden release.

the stream is long and slow, the hissing sound slowly becoming less prominent as he empties himself. “fuck fuck fuck” he repeats to himself, too embarrassed to look at you. “‘m sorry i made such a mess” matt whimpers, hiding his face on the crook of your neck.

“that’s my good boy” you praise. matt squirms at the compliment, his hips unwittingly bucking forward. “aren’t you my good boy, matty?” you tease and matt eagerly nods, rutting against you desperately.

you chuckle at him, placing your hand on his soaked crotch. you could finally feel his cock entirely, his hard shaft begging for relief. “c’mon, cum for me like the good boy you are” you coo, and that’s all it takes. matt trembles against you, filling his pants once more — but with something warmer, thicker and much more sticky.

you give matt two light taps as he comes back from his high, still too embarrassed to fully face you after his accident. “don’t worry” you chuckle, holding him closer. “i love when you make a little mess”.

good evening. i know many won’t enjoy this and it might be a little too much but it is MY anniversary i’ll post what I want to read!!!! im just kidding, full long ass fic about rough sex with matt coming WAY later tn <3 this was inspired by this video lol love yall

[norrisainz33]

simp || cs55

summary: carlos has a massive crush on one of hollywoods it girls, y/n and he desperately wants her to notice him

pairing: carlos sainz x famous!reader

fc & warnings: madelyn cline and suggestive. you are responsible for the content you consume

requested: yes! thank you for your patience!! i know this took forever

masterlist

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

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ynuser: can’t even tell i’m jet lagged to all heck right now thanks to my incredible team!! thanks for having me dior

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carlossainz55: jet lag has never looked better princessa

user1: how does this man always beat me here im

user2: when u show up to a who loves y/n most competition and this mf there

user55: its getting hard to make excuses for you carlos

user1: your hair omgggg you look so good

yourbff: no you're glowing

ynuser: thank you 🤍

user4: god i’m obsessed with you

joeburrow: 😍 [liked by ynuser]

yourcostar: ok i see you gorgeous girl

ynuser: i miss you

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williamsracing: they had a lot of fun with this quiz! check out the latest grid games with lia, carlos and alex!

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user2: carbonooooooooo

user4: i love that lia is here too omg

carlossainz55: ynuser shooting my shot 😌

user55: carlos go 1 minute without mentioning y/n challenge failed

user5: since my goat said to tag her ynuser hello did u see this

user55: god he’s down so bad ynuser please im begging

user43: ynuser carlos saved my cat from a burning building

user77: carlos built me a house ynuser

lando: ynuser hey

carlossainz55: my guy 😉

yourbff: lmaoooooooo ynuser you gotta put this man out of his misery

user55: EVERYONE STAY CALM CARLOS STAY CALM MY MAN DONT EMBARRASS US THIS IS HER BEST FRIEND

carlossainz55: yourbff ynsuer please

user4: god hes such a simp this is painful

user8: i love this trio sm

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yunser: fun in the sun ☀️🤍

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user1: you are the definition of beauty

carlossainz55: you should try the spanish sun. i think you’d have a lot of fun under it 😉

lando: not your best work mate

charlesleclerc: mon ami what was this line

lewishamilton: next time be less obvious

user55: not even the drivers can defend him anymore

user22: body is tea

zendaya: the prettiest lady 🤍

ynuser: daya 😭😭😭😭🤍🤍🤍🤍

user33: so you can paint now too?! what can’t you do

user44 the literal love of my life

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yourbff: Y E S! he is so fine it’s sickening

ynuser: he is really attractive……

yourbff: anyone with eyes can see that bb

ynuser: alright…… i’m gonna dm him

yourbff: YEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSS

yourcostar: i laughed out loud at this and then checked your posts and man is trying his hardest

ynuser: stoppppp 😭😭😭 he is committed and honestly i’m into it

zendaya: tom knows him!!! he’s a super nice guy. i say go for it

ynuser: if you and tom approve i’ll do it

zendaya: double date!!!!!

yourfriend1: DO IT FOR THE PLOT

ynuser: on it

yourfriend2: i have been begging you to get into f1 for years now

ynuser: you’re right…. my bad girl

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user2: you’re doing just about anything but filming that new season huh

user55: no way. no way you’re in spain. oh my god this better be about carlos. i’m gonna crash all the way out

yourbff: OMG YOIRE WITH HIM!!! AGAIN?!?!?!

ynuser: i am!! having the best time with him 🥹 after our first date in monaco he convinced me to go to spain with him over his break from driving and it has been like a dream

yourbff: you have to facetime me later and spill the beans

ynuser: if i get any alone time i will 🤭

yourbff: are you….. staying in the same hotel room?! OMG DID THEY DO THE THING WHERE THEY GIVE YOU A HOTEL ROOM THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE 2 BEDS BUT WAS ONLY 1?!

ynuser: AHAHHAH no i am NOT in a romance book tho it feels like it. we chose to get a hotel room with only one bed 😏

yourbff: i’m giggling, goofing , freaking out. how dare you not tell me this !!

ynuser: i promiseeee ill call tomorrow!!

yourbff: fineee enjoy your night of f*cking. you gotta tell me how he is 😉

ynuser: STOPSJDK

carlossainz55: i’m glad you love it mi amor 🥰

ynuser: might just be because i have the best tour guide ever

carlossainz55: that definitely helps i’m sure

user4: aesthetic af

charlesleclerc: thank GOD!

ynuser: it’s been a long time coming

charlesleclerc: you can say that again

user12: on god this better be about carlos sainz

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ynupdates: is that blondie in the corner who i think it is you ain’t slick

user2: you’re my love

lando: you in amorrrrrrrrr?!

carlossainz55: yes 😍 she’s just as amazing as i imagined

lando: awooga that’s the best news ever

user4: i can’t wait for you to get back on track

alex_albon: are you having fun????

carlossainz55: so much fun…. some would say the most fun especially because she agreed to be my girlfriend 😉

alex_albon: thank GOD. george owes me £400

carlossainz55: que?

alex_albon: we took bets on if she’d fall for you or not. i said she would 😌

carlossainz55: i’m going to have to give george a call it seems. who else bet on this????

alex_albon: the whole group chat 😅

carlossainz55: give me a list of everyone who bet against me

carlossainz55: DONT LEAVE ME ON READ

carlossainz55: ALEXANDER ALBON

user55: you’re in barcelona. y/n is in barcelona…. she’s blonde… there’s a blonde in this photo that looks a lot like her….. did you do the unthinkable and get y/n to notice you?

user13: when you getting back in the car king

carlossainz55 has made a post

liked by lando, williamsracing, charlesleclerc, yourbff, ynuser, georgerussell63, yourcostar, lewishamilton and 456,233 others

carlossainz55: you know what they say - pics or it didn’t happen

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user3: oh my god he’s done it

user55: THATS MY GOAT!!! IM SO PROUD OF YOU

lando: i can’t believe my eyes

carlossainz55: me neither

williamsracing: so this is why you were in the best mood i’ve ever seen and asked for a paddock pass for every race for the foreseeable future

carlossainz55: 😌🤍

alex_albon: incredible work mate

user23: wondering what insane level of simp he’s gonna reach now that he’s bagged the baddie

charlesleclerc: you are welcome!

ynupdates: claiming credit i see charles

charlesleclerc: well i helped

ynuser: my friends did send me your tweets so really you both did this

carlossainz55: and i thank you both charlesleclerc ynupdates

user34: i just stood up and applauded

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!!! likes and reblogs appreciated. been very busy recently, hopefully will have some more time to writing soon!!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[the-attaarmadhaj]

The thing about Mormon missionaries is that, yeah. Most of them are extremely sheltered kids trying to do their best to be good how they were taught. I rarely see much of them, I think I walked past a few in my hometown a few years back? It was easy to tell they were christian missionaries of some sort because they were American (you could tell from the accents), dressed smartly, and carrying bibles. But all I really remember of it was how excitedly they were chatting about being in a different country. I don't think they go to where I'm from often, it's kinda middle of nowhere and it's just half an hour either north or south by car, or 20 minutes by train, to a couple major cities, so most of them likely end up in one of those and branching to our town only occasionally if they're trying to be extra diligent and proactive in what they were told to do. So, looking back, they were just kids, a couple years younger than i am now, excited to be abroad, trying their absolute best to be good. Just makes me angry at the Mormon church tbh. They should have had the opportunity to explore our town without all the rules they gotta follow, have the opportunity to actually fully indulge in their excitement.

I couldn't offer anything at the time, I was maybe 14 or 15, and they were heading the opposite direction to us, away from the town centre (where the train station is) and towards where more of the houses are (and also, funnily enough, right past where we got a jehovas witnesses centre and a quaker hall right next door to each other which is something I chuckle about whenever I think about it, because thats about as different from each other as two branches of christianity can get, and theyre next door neighbours). But I like to hope that, even with all those rules they gotta follow, they were able to gain something positive from their visit to our town, even if it was only a taste of what a medium sized town in the UK can be like.

But yeah, be nice to them. They're basically kids.

[seumyo]

just thoughts of growing old with bakugou.

“Y’alright, old lady?” he asked.

“Excuse me?” You shot back with a huff, but the laughter in your voice softened it. “You’re not exactly a spring chicken yourself, Mr. Dynamight.”

“Hah? I could still beat your ass in a race.”

“You could barely bend down to get your keys this morning.”

He clicked his tongue but didn’t deny it. “Should’ve let you get them. You’re closer to the ground anyway.”

“Now you’re just asking for trouble.”

You two walked a few more steps before he noticed your breathing was just a little heavier. Your hand was tighter on his forearm. You hadn’t said anything, of course. He knew you never liked making a fuss. But Bakugou noticed. He always noticed.

Because if he didn’t notice, then he’d think he’s the shittiest husband on the planet.

Bakugou stopped.

You looked at him, confused. “Katsu?”

“Turn around.”

“What—”

“I’m givin’ you a piggyback ride.”

You blinked. “Katsuki, we’re in our sixties.”

“And? You think that stops me?” He crouched a little, wincing more dramatically than he meant to. Despite retaining lighter exercises to keep his body in tip-top shape, age still creeps in like a barnacle to his back. “C’mon, get up before I change my mind.”

“You’re going to throw your back out.”

“My back’s tougher than yours.”

“That’s not saying much anymore!”

“I’d rather break my back than see you waddle like a fuckin’ penguin with those stuffy shoes.”

“Our daughter gave me these shoes!”

“I know,” he replied. “Get on, woman.”

With a chuckle, you carefully climbed onto his back, your arms wrapping around his neck like they did all those years ago when you two were barely adults sneaking out for late-night walks. He held your legs securely under him, your weight familiar even after all this time. You rested your head against the back of his neck.

He lifts you like it’s nothing.

“Still got it,” he mutters, somewhat relieved.

Because Bakugou wants to give you a piggyback ride—or just carry you as many times as he possibly could.

“You’re insane.”

“Yeah, well. You married me. So there’s nothin’ we could do about that now that we’re five decades in, huh?”

You nuzzled your cheek against his shoulder, your voice muffled. “Best decision I ever made,” you hum. “Do you ever think about what we were like back then?”

“All the time,” he replies.

“Do you miss it?”

Bakugou exhaled. “Nah. I mean, it was good. Great, even. But this…” He shifts you a little higher on his back. “This is better.”

“You’re carrying your wrinkly wife down the street, and you think this is better?”

“Hell yeah,” he replies without hesitation. “You still make fun of me. Still make me laugh. Still kiss me like we’re teenagers. And even if you walk slower now, you still walk with me.”

You were quiet for a moment. Then, softly, “That’s so sappy. I hate you.”

“Shut up,” he mumbles.

You chuckled.

“I love you, Katsuki.”

“I know,” Bakugou says, and then, a little quieter, “I love you too. Always have. Even when you fell asleep during Die Hard.”

“I knew it. You were paying attention.”

He laughs. Full, unguarded, and warm. His chest feels full, like it always does when you’re near. The kind of full that doesn’t need fixing. Doesn’t need anything more.

-

“See?” Katsuki muttered breathlessly, settling you down onto a wooden bench that overlooked the town below. “Didn’t break my back.”

“Not yet. Tomorrow, maybe.”

“Tch. Still mouthy,” he said, but there was nothing but tenderness in his voice. He reached for your hand, calloused fingers lacing with yours. “Old or not, you’ll never stop talkin’, will you?”

“Not if I can help it,” you murmured. “Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes.”

“You tickle my toes when I’m about to fall asleep, you psychopath.”

“As I said, keep you on your toes.”

You two sat there in silence, side by side, watching as the last of the day faded into hues of soft purple and gold. The town below lit up slowly—windows glowing, streetlights flickering on one by one. It was the same town where you built a life, where you came after retiring from the city, where you spent quiet afternoons and lazy mornings and stormy nights curled under blankets.

“I was thinking earlier,” you said, tilting your head toward him. “Remember that old apartment? The first one?”

“The one with the leaky pipes?”

“And the hole in the wall.”

Bakugou made a noise between a groan and a laugh.

“Don’t remind me. That place was hell.”

“But we were happy. And it was our first.”

He nodded. “It was.”

“You used to stay up late grading case files while I was asleep on the couch.”

“And you’d drool on every pillow,” he said, smirking.

“That’s love,” you quipped, “sharing spit on furniture.”

“Disgusting,” his eyes crinkled as he chuckled, quiet and deep, before falling into a softer stillness.

“Do you think we did okay?” you asked.

Bakugou turned to look at you. Your eyes were searching his face—not out of doubt, but for reassurance.

“We did more than okay,” he said. “We loved hard. Fought harder. Got old. Grew up.”

You smiled faintly. “We grew softer.”

He squeezed your hand. “You did. I stayed badass.”

You laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Yeah… you did.”

A breeze blew past, and you shivered slightly. Bakugou was already tugging his jacket off before you could protest. He knows you well enough that it comes second to breathing. Something that he could never forget because he needs to remember it to survive.

“You don’t have to—”

“Shut up. You’re cold.”

You let him drape it over you, fingers brushing his wrist as he tucked it close. It was nice. This was nice.

“I still remember the first time I saw you,” you said after a while. “You were yelling at someone, I think.”

“That sounds right.”

“I thought, ‘What an ass.’”

“And yet, you married me.”

“Because you were very persuasive,” you told him.

He snorted. “Uh huh.”

Time passed like that—peaceful and unhurried—until the sun was a mere sliver on the edge of the world. Fireflies blinked into view. The quiet of the hilltop wrapped around you like a blanket.

“I’m tired,” you murmured quietly, closing your eyes for a moment against his shoulder.

“Want me to carry you home?”

“No, just…” You paused, then exhaled. “Let’s just stay here a bit.”

Bakugou nodded. “Yeah. We can stay.”

“You’ve always been stubborn.”

He grunted in acknowledgment.

“But also the kindest man I’ve ever known.”

He didn’t reply right away. He just looked at you—really looked at you. Your hair had silvered, your cheeks had thinned, but your eyes held the same sparkle that made him fall in love with you years ago. You were still [Name]. Undeniably his.

And he was still Bakugou. Your.

“Even if I get reincarnated,” you whispered, your voice barely audible now, “even if I forget everything—I hope I find you again.”

He swallowed hard, jaw tightening. “You will.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah. I’ll find you too,” he said. “You’re too damn loud to miss.”

You smiled. Your hand, much more wrinkly now, more fragile than it used to be, reached up to his cheek. Your thumb traced the scar that time left near his jaw.

“I love you,” you said.

He leaned in, pressing your foreheads together. “I love you too. Always.”

And in the stillness, with the cool air surrounding you and the stars beginning to blink into view above, you leaned into each other—together in warmth, in memory, in everything you two ever were.

Your hands stayed intertwined, steady.

And when the wind finally hushed, you drifted off into the quietest, most peaceful sleep.

Together, one last time.

Forever.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[slut-for-slutty-fictional-men]

HII!! Can you please write something about George and the reader doing cute TikTok trends together 🥰💕

Couple's Content

Pairing: George Clarkey x Reader Genre: Fluff, TikTok shenanigans, established relationship Word Count: 750

masterlist

It starts, like most questionable ideas, with boredom and George scrolling TikTok at 11:47 p.m.

You’re both on the sofa, legs tangled, half-watching Shrek 2 and half-scrolling your respective For You pages when he nudges you with his foot.

“Let’s make couple TikToks,” he says.

You snort. “Since when are we that couple?”

“We’ve literally been dating for a year. People already assume we do.”

“And you wanna give them proof?”

He grins, that stupid charming grin that always wins. “We’d go viral, babe. Plus I look hot tonight.”

You roll your eyes but cave immediately.

He’s a 10 but…

The ring light is set up. George has changed into a hoodie that definitely used to be yours. You’re both perched on the edge of your bed, trying not to laugh between takes.

You begin: “He’s a 10 but he still calls trousers ‘slacks’ unironically.”

George gasps. “That was one time! And it was a bit!”

“Sure it was, George the Victorian chimney sweep.”

He counters: “She’s a 10 but she makes PowerPoint presentations of her birthday wishlists.”

You nod proudly. “Organization is sexy.”

He pauses. “She’s a 10 but she once fake-cried at a restaurant so we could get a free dessert.”

You grin. “And did we?”

“…yes.”

“Exactly.”

The video ends with you both wheezing, and you catch a look in his eyes that makes your stomach flip — soft and golden, like you’re the funniest, loveliest thing he’s ever seen.

Who’s Most Likely To?

You're lying side by side now, pointing at each other in time with the questions.

“Who’s most likely to cry during a movie?” You both point at him. He hides his face in mock shame.

“Who’s most likely to start an argument?” You point at yourself. George doesn’t deny it—just kisses your shoulder in truce.

“Who’s most likely to propose?” You both hesitate. Then slowly… point at him.

You glance over. His ears are pink. “You thinking about it already, Clarkey?”

“Gotta keep the brand strong,” he murmurs. “Power couple content, innit?”

You pretend to scoff but your cheeks are warm.

We Listen & We Don’t Judge

You kneel in front of each other. George clicks record:

“This is a safe space. We listen and we don’t judge.” “Okay…” “Go ahead.” “I save your voice notes. Like... all of them.”

You blink. “All?”

He rubs his neck. “Even the stupid ones. Especially the stupid ones.”

Your heart does a thing.

“We listen and we don’t judge.” “Okay…” “Go ahead.” “Sometimes I get distracted during arguments ‘cause you look really hot when you're mad.”

You snort. “George.”

“I’m serious. The glare, the pout, the little crease in your forehead—”

“You’re deranged.”

“You’re fit. Not my fault.”

“We listen and we don’t judge.” “Okay…” “Go ahead.” “I once used your fancy shampoo on the dog ‘cause he smelled like bin juice.”

You stare at him. “GEORGE. That bottle cost £18.”

“He smelled amazing though, to be fair.”

“We listen and we don’t judge.” “Okay…” “Go ahead.” “I once dropped your toothbrush behind the toilet. And just… rinsed it off.”

His jaw drops. “WHAT—”

“WE LISTEN AND WE DON’T JUDGE!!” you shout.

He’s chasing you around the flat within seconds, yelling, “I trusted you!”

It’s late by the time you’re done. Your phones are buzzing nonstop—comments pouring in, people obsessing over your dynamic. One top comment reads:

“This is what it looks like when your soulmate is also your best friend 😭🫶”

George reads it aloud with a dramatic sniff. “They get us.”

You smile and rest your head on his chest. His fingers trace slow circles on your back.

“You know,” he says softly, “I kinda love doing this stuff with you.”

“Even when I roast your fashion sense in front of millions?”

“Especially then.”

You look up at him. His eyes are gentle, a little sleepy, a little full.

“I love you,” you say, because you can’t not.

His smile grows like he’s been waiting. “I love you too.”

A pause.

“…did we record that?” you ask suddenly.

His eyes widen. You both scramble for the phone.

The last video is still recording. You both freeze in the frame, eyes wide, mid-panic—then burst out laughing.

George shrugs. “Guess the internet’s getting the soft launch and the hard launch.”

You press a kiss to his jaw. “Good. Let them see.”

TikTok Comments, 2 Hours Later:

“DID THEY JUST SAY I LOVE YOU ON CAMERA—??” “this is the healthiest relationship i’ve ever seen and i’m not okay about it.” “they better get married or i’ll sue.”

[the-luckiest-guy-thanks-to-you]

For more context:

There is a "fertility crisis"

The name is misleading because it's focusing on fertility and crisis. First, the crisis is an economic crash due to decreasing populations causing an imbalance in the economy. The fertility thing is the primary means capitalists consider to alleviate it bc of the desire for infinite growth that demands more people.

Now I gotta say even as a flaming lefty, there does seem to be a real problem, many places, primarily Western countries and East Asia actually do have a situation (note, not a problem) where instead of around 2.1 children being born to every couple to sustain the working population, it's dropping below that.

This means that there are going to be more old people than young people and the idea of having about 3 people working for every 1 person on social security begins to fall out of balance. It also means fewer people working to meet the needs of a relatively larger population that cannot. This is a real issue. The "fertility crisis" isn't about the total global population, it's about finding a new sustainable balance that gets problematically pushed into conservative talking points

In places like America, the economy is incredibly harsh right now, pushing down birth rates due to financial instability. In places like Japan (from what I've read, feel free to add and correct me), people talk about how hard it is to have a kid and how competitive school can be and even the process to apply to preschool can be so exhaustive it makes them not want to have a second child. There's also a general idea of supporting one or two children with higher quality care rather than have a bunch of kids with worse care, which I think most people here would probably say it's reasonable and good. This is not exhaustive and there's plenty of overlap in different regions. But that's a bit why drops are happening. There's other theories too like social media that are being researched (something something death of third spaces, hard to socialize, meet people, cultural change of priorities).

But the overall global population is going up because of many more births in the "global South" places like South Asia. Conservative talking points completely align with the callout above and how the crisis is artificial and racist.

First part of why is not necessarily a real crisis (I can only speak for the US): we could just collect more taxes. There is literally a potential trillion dollars out there of uncollected taxes in the US alone to help fill the social security funds and balance the budget in a way that would help. Obviously the US Is extremely capitalist and there is a big intersection of money and power so conservatives don't want this, but it would go a loooong way to helping.

2) immigration

No one needs to have more children, the graph up there is right! The problem in the US is that it is an obsurdly racist country that will absolutely kick out anyone, even people doing the hard work supporting it, just got looking different. With so many people in the world, improving freedom of movement and having more open borders would allow people to work where they want and have more of the life they want while balancing the degrading labor pool.

3) Smaller economy

So I'm no economist, but from what I understand, a deflationary economy is very volatile and can very easily cause mass recession and major economic repercussions. That said, if the economy could strategically shrink, the work load could be rebalanced to support everyone in a more sustainable way with a little sacrifice. Mostly this means far less consumerism which is hard for Americans especially, but by using things like taxes to create more public services, concentrating some jobs and resources (think about how there's like 6 AI companies all battling to be the best, but are all just neck and neck. What if we had one instead, or scaled it all back? Or ask if AI maybe just isn't worth it and paid for training so they could be social workers or farmers instead, or just like whatever). There's a tremendous amount of waste, same for does Amazon, temu, Aliexpress, wish, Etsy, shein, and all that really need to exist or can we focus less on consumerism. By needing less, we could ideally responsibly reshape our economy and scale it back so it takes less resources to support a non working population and we can make what they are given count more. (But again, not an economist, if you think the economy is bad now, depending on the execution, it could get so much worse).

So with solutions like downsizing the economy, improving immigration, and doing taxes well all being obvious solutions but are really really hard to make progress in right now, the current billionaires and right wing politicians in power are pushing More births. And yes, they want white babies because they are infact just the Nazis again. Making it about fertility and birthing plays into their ideas of ethno-nationalism, restricting birth control, eroding women's rights, and many other things, it is obvious why the focus is on fertility to them.

Anyways, that is all to say, it's sort of a real crisis because countries like South Korea are looking down the barrel if a gun that could cause significant collapse in the next half century, but the way it's talked about in the media caters extraordinarily to conservative talking points and working under their framing rather than what the program actually is. It can absolutely be addressed, it isn't an actual of fertility, and it can actually like... support people in the process.

Also re: overpopulation. Different schools of thought here. There's no question we do more damage to the world now that there's 8 billion people rather than 10 million. But 90% of the problem is in resource management. Your average American is blowing through like 10x the resources anyone else in the world, meanwhile countries like India can have extraordinarily low emissions per person. Also of course companies create very literal mountains of waste which are another massive component. Conservatives like to pose it as everyone using the same resources to fear monger about POC having too many babies (despite broadly using less resources) so that white people don't have to feel like they need to change and can further their lifestyle of abundance and ethno-nationalism. What this means is if we want to help the earth, it'd be rediculous to focus on the number of people before focusing on resource consumption. If you're focusing on there being too many people, take a minute and reflect for a sec because the point is being missed and there's some bias there. If white people were concerned with overpopulation, it would be just as reasonable for them to stop have children themselves. This doesn't happen because it's not about overpopulation

Hope this all helps if anyone is confused why there's a bunch of talk around the subject right now

reasonable people: the drop in fertility rates is at least partially due to the economic circumstances we are living in. perhaps more people under 30 WOULD be interested in having children if there were resources like universal healthcare and universal childcare, making it more financially feasible to start a family at-

unreasonable people: no. wrong. we need to ban abortion and also bring back teen pregnancy in a big way.

[miniaturesuitgladiator]

Quarter mile at a time.

Synopsis: Bruce finds out he has another biological kid ,and not only are they a girl but the best street racer in Gotham!!

Notes: reader is described as female and black, poc ,or in this case I guess she might be mixed. I do not hate cops I just wrote them like this for the fic. So please don't take anything to personally.

Warnings: Illegal things ofc. Drugs, mentions of sex and prostitution. Child abandonment. Underage drinking and smoking and prostitution. Not proofread!!

Ride or die.

'Do you understand how much trouble your in kid?'

'Do you ever shut up?'

This was the third time this week you had gotten yourself in this position.

Handcuffed and seated infront of some cop who was writing down your statement.

Still being underaged meant you'd get away with more then adults would.

Sadly that also meant you were usually the one to take the fall for your so called 'friends'.

'You gotta help me out here kid. I'm trying to help you.'

You were sixteen. That age that people would consider 'young and dumb'.

But you knew better then to tell anything to the cops. People got hurt from doing that.

People got killed.

'Cmon kid. Your sixteen and I see you in here three times a week.'

'Don't remind me." You scoff rolling your eyes.

Cops like these almost make you feel bad. Almost. They always claim their just 'trying to do their job'. But you see through that.

You see the way they pin your friends down. Gun to their head. Cuffs tighter then needed and for what?

For power.

And with a gun to a scared kid's head they feel like they got it......

So you stay silent and give them headaches with your words.

'Well I guess all that's left to do is call your mom.'

'Go ahead and try it.'

You've seen this to many times to count. The cop tries to threaten you with him calling your mom. She doesn't answer.

They let you go. Because Gotham's got bigger problems then a kid who they don't have proof did something.

'Ya know kid. If you weren't so caught up with friends like yours you'd have a good life.'

Of course the cop would say that. By looking at your record. Your a straight A student good grades you even tutor for extra credits.

'Am I free to go?'

The cops sighs after getting nothing but a ring from you mother's phone.

'Yeah go ahead.'

You scoff standing up and grabbing your things. Smug like smile planted your face from finally being free.

'Wait.'

You hum turning back around to face the sitting cop.

'Kid, I say this with respect. Going the way your going you won't make it to twenty.'

You knew he was right. Your friends were living proof of that. Some of your friends were dead while others in prison.

More friends came but they never could beat the system.

You didn't blame them and you never would. They were trapped in a system were this felt like the only way out.

Just like you.

'Maybe that's the plan.'

Fear owned Gotham, consumed it like a virus.

Even the wealthy and powerful people slept with one eye open.

Everyone was afraid of something ,and in Gotham your worst fear was most likely to happen.

But your not really helping yourself when you go to places like this. But then again you didn't really care.

It's dark as you walk to suspiciously dark allies but you knew ever road in gotham.... just not like other people would....

By the time you reach your destination the place is already filled with people. Some drunk most high ,and more likely then not they were shit broke with nothing to lose.

So to say this place wasn't a place for a teenager was an understatement.

By now you knew who to stick around. The people who could protect got and the people who couldn't.

So you had no trouble as you walk around and greet your usual 'friends'.

It smells like smoke but not from cigarettes.

Smoke from tires rubbing against the harsh concrete. It's warm but that kind of from car engines and cigarettes.

Girls crowed around cars and boys do too. All looking for attention or money. They'd do just about anything to get cash.

Some of them were mean almost forcing men to sleep with them to get money , but others were soft much to shy to do anything like that.

You felt bad for them but you held your tongue, as both the men and women belittled them infront of you.

Most of them were older then you but some we're your age some even younger. They new you quite well.

Well just about everyone knew you.

You couldn't be seen with them though. No, you were too popular around this place to be seen with them.

You'd be considered a stupid kid to be seen with them. And in a place like this, if you're seen as a kid they'll treat you like one.

A loud voice breaks through the crowned and reaches your ears.

'Looks who's back.'

Mikey your so called 'boss' says. Mikey met you when you were dirt poor and took pity on you.

Instead of giving you money. He gave you a job. Claiming 'you gotta work for your money. Cause ain't shit free.'

Mikey owned a car shop and he taught you alot. Even stuff you shouldn't know. Like how to make a car go the fastest it can with blowing up.

Or how to hide drugs in car seats that even the best canines won't be able to smell.

Eventually he took you to your first street race and from there it clicked.

That was your passion, that was your thing.

You made him teach you stick and eventually you built your own car out of scraps.

And slowly by slowly you came up in ranks.

And bought a better car.

Thanks to Mikey of course. He got in you every race since he knew just about everyone, even the people you shouldn't know.

He started you with small races and moved you up inch by inch.

But the time you were twelve you were the best street racer in Gotham. But not everyone can take losing to a kid well.

So Mikey introduced you to his friends. So atleast you'd have their protection. Their older then you and did just about anything illegal you could think of.

But they were your protection so you didn't complain.

You smile as you see Mikeys crooked smile.

You knew he wasn't a Saint ,or anything but he was the closest thing you have as family.

He's all you got.

He used to pay your rent and bills for you until eventually you could pay them yourself.

Lord knows your mom never did....

'Hey Mikey. Where's my baby?'

'In the back. She's already ready.'

He points behind him and low and behold there she is. Your baby.

Your pink Honda S2000 covered in glitter and with rims that the moon illuminated off of.

She was perfect. The fastest thing in Gotham and it made your opponents even angrier to lose to such a feminine car.

Following Mikey to your car you walk past various people and their cars.

All different cars modified from their colors, to their shapes ,and designs that comstomize them to their owner.

It was easy walking past the cars some you admired for their creativity others you thought looked ridiculous.

Walking past the people wasn't so easy.

Some gave you a simple nod others looked you up and down clearly sizing you for the race.

Grazing your hands against the hood of your car you smile.

You never took your car home with you after a race. The cops would catch you before you could say 'shit'.

Mikey taught you that.

So instead you left it with Mikey ,and he took care of her when you weren't racing.

Opening your door and starting the engine you smile at the noise she makes. Everyone knew the sounds of your car by now. Loud, strong, and confident.

'You ready? They paying good this race.' Mikey says as he looks you over.

It was never about the money. You and Mikey new that. It was about the thrill.

The excitement of the race.

It was exhilaration you felt right before you won. It was feeling of not feeling anything for a moment.

It was the way your stomach dropped as you hit the gas half way through a curve. The way the moon shined on your dark skin and the way the chilly air felt against your face.

It was the fact that when you were racing you didn't worry about anything. Not school, not the cops, not your life, not your mom. Nothing.

It was just you and your car and that was enough....

'I'm always ready.'

The noise from the Crowed died down a bit when the racer girl announced the biggest race was about to begin. This was the most expensive race of the night so of course you were in it.

You new mostly everyone you were racing but their was one guy you didn't. No one did. You ignored that feeling that something was off about him. After all as long as he had money to pay that's all that mattered.

The race started of the same motorcycles went out and stopped the traffic and horns from the busy and annoyed people rang through the air as you raced through the city like you always did.

The roads were dark and this was definitely the fastest your car had ever gone.

You hanged in second place the unknown boy in front. But right he could pass that finish line you pushed your secret weapon. And just like always.

You won.

The Crowed was loud and people surrounded you touching you and your car. Compliments filled the air but your eyes weren't on them. No, your eyes were on the new guy.

He looked normal but something about how he acted gave him away. How he kept looking around but tried to act calm.

He wasn't a junky. No, he was dressed to nice and his car was nice enough to prove he wasn't.

He looks almost awkward but people continue talking to him. He doesn't fit In here that's clear as day when you notice how he talks. It's to nice, to cocky.

He's smart you'll give him that. Probably the best at what he does. That's probably why they sent him. He's got that kinda charm that he can smooth talk his way into anything and everything.

But if he was gonna come here he should've known what not to do. And most people are way to high and drunk to notice but you do.

His gaze always goes to people hands first.

People here didn't do that.

No, here you look at their eyes or If you like them their body.

Never their hands. People here throw their hands around but they usually don't mean any harm that's just how the express themselves.

Cops tried to read people by their hands to watch what they were gonna do before they did it.

You knew that from how much you were constantly arrested.

That's probably why most of your friends were treated harsher then necessary by cops when all they were trying to do was communicate.

'Only cops do that shit.' You mutter pushing off your car and walking over to Mikey trying to give him your keys.

'Leaving so soon?' Mikey ask his voice almost concerned but he hides that well.

You always stayed late. Because it was better then going home to empty apartment.

You nod your hands still holding your keys and eyeing the boy.

You don't say anything to Mikey about the boy being a cop incase you were wrong. But your not gonna stay here long enough incase you were right.

You toss your drink, your hand opening to give Mikey your keys but before you know it loud sirens fill the air and blue flashing lights are everywhere.

People scatters like cockroaches when you turn on the light.

Your quick to grip your keys and get in your car. Before you even know what your doing your already racing down the dark streets of Gotham.

You don't have time to count how many police cars follow behind you and for a moment you wonder if they only want you.

They probably did considering how many times you had gotten away from them.

You'd been running from cops since you started racing and on foot you weren't that fast but in your car?

They couldn't get close enough to scratch your paint.

You sigh turning off your engine and leaning your head on your steering wheel as you parked into a dark ally.

You had escaped all ten of the cops with ease but there was still that adrenaline rushing through your viens.

You don't have much time to rest though because before you can think of what to do there's a loud thumb against the top of your car.

'The fuck?' You whisper still out of breath and kinda scared.

Your head still slightly dizzy and your eyes have never been the best so this must he your imagination right?

Because there's no fucking way batman just landed on the back of your car.

You groan muttering a 'just my luck.' Under your breath and put up your hands in defeat.

Because of course your a good driver but your to tired and far to drunk to race against fucking batman himself.

He opens your door and his scowl is cold harsh.

Harsher then the criminals you face on the daily but it softens at the sight of you....

You look like a dream. Not the kind that he falls inlove with but the kind that he's supposed to know.

Someone he's supposed to remember but he cant.

He feels weird but still takes your arm and without a word puts you in the batmobil.

He decides to ignore the way you almost rip out his door handle by how hard your trying to open it.

'Even if you did get out. You won't make it far.' He says as his car automatically buckling up.

'Worth a shot.'

You huff annoyed about your situation and scared even though your trying to hide it.

'Whats your name?'

'Whats your name?' You repeat his question with a question. Ah, so you were that kinda kid.

The stubborn kind.

Well he can't judge he has a handful of stubborn kids of his own. And he thanks God for that on night like these.

It just makes it easier to talk to you.

'Tell me your name and I'll let you go.'

'Huh?'

Your surprised by the amazing deal he's offering you and really can't believe it.

He on the other hand had no real intention of handing you over to the police after all he had sent Dick their as an undercover cop to stop a big drug deal not stop a kid.

Little did he know you were the best street racer in Gotham. But he quickly figured that out as you escaped not one but ten trained cops.

You sigh telling him your name. Even if this was a trap it was worth a shot.

He unlocks the door and you uncross your arms open the door. Confused you look back at him.

'You really gonna let me go?' You ask trying to make sure that he wouldn't chase you down after this.

'A deals a deal ,kid.' He watches as you step out of the batmobil and his gaze locks onto yours as you close his door.

'See ya around, kid.' His dark voice says and something about the way he says it makes you believe it's more of a promise then just a saying.

'Hopefully not.' You mutter as you get in your car.

'Alfred I'm going to need you to check something for me.'

'B, everyone in my unit has been looking for that kid for years! Years! And you just let her go? The best street racer in Gotham and you let here go?! We didn't even know she was a girl until today!'

Dick voice echos through the batcave and Bruce's headache already forming from his sons distressed voice.

'Well being seeing her soon Dick. Calm down.'

He tries to reason with obviously irrated vigilantly.

'And how can you be so sure? What if this was are only chance?!'

Alfred sends him a knowing glance as he hands Bruce some life changing papers.

Bruce sighs rubbing his temples as he carefully reads the heavy papers in his hands.

Even going so far as rereading them just to make sure.

But eventually after reading enough and his headache intensifying he says.

'Because she's my daughter.'

💕Thanks for reading!!💕

Likes reblogs and comments are appreciated!!

[hibiscus-whore]

Talkin’ bout innit

Summary: You were assigned to cook for a party, but it’s sundown. The party doesn’t start until a few hours. And Mr Chow here can’t take another moment without you, even though you’re right next to him. That isn’t what he meant when he said he can’t have another moment without you. However, your daughter could come in at any moment so he has to be quick yet efficient with it. Wouldn’t wanna leave his baby unsatisfied would he?

Contains: the confirmed munch of the hour, Bo Chow. Established/martial relationship. Y’all have a kid, named whatever you want. No use of Y/N, couple nicknames instead. Fem reader in a 2nd POV. No vamps (sorry), but a good ending because ANNIE’S PREGGERS! Also, everyone is southern.

Warning: Eating out, multiple orgasms, piv, yearning, overstimulation?, slightly public (y’all are in the damn kitchen. Perverts😒)

Word Count: 1209

(Part 2 for Remmick is indeed coming soon but I needed this nigga Bo out my brain.)

Smoke volun-told you to cook for them since Annie was well with child. When you tried to get Stack’s opinion on it, he almost got popped in the mouth. So now you had no choice BUT to cook. Still, you tried to retaliate against it.

“Nigga, are you serious? I got shit to do,” you told him off.

Smoke scoffed, blowing a puff from his cigarette at you, “like what? Girl, it’s just some fuckin’ catfish. All we need. Annie gotta be fully rested for our baby. And you make the second best catfish.”

You slapped the cigarette out his hand, “if you gon’ smoke, go on head and do it outside. Not where I got my customers up in here. Now you got ‘em all scar—“

Before you could finish, your husband came out the back. Using his apron to dry his hands as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, giving a kiss on the forehead. Then he went up to dap up and hug Smoke, did the same for Stack.

“Baby, what’s goin’ on? Why are you over here yellin’ like that?”

You smacked your husband’s forehead, “lean back, ya stupid ass tryna tell me that I have to cook for their party.” Stack stifled a laugh, quickly looking away while Smoke sighed. Bo held onto his forehead in pain before shaking it off.

“Now, why’d you hit me fa’ like I did something.”

“Guilty by association,” before you could hit him again, he grabbed your arm. Pulling you close to him.

His voice gently whispered into your ear, giving you a slight chill in places that you were all too familiar with, “tonight, we’ll cook. Our lil’ girl heading to her friends anyways. You won’t be alone in this, okay?”

You nodded. Once he let go of you, you swatted him in his shoulder. The twins awkwardly backed away as you continued on.

~~

“Baby, are you cookin’ with stale grease?”

Your head snapped around to look at him, “boy, have you lost ya’ mind?”

Bo only laughed at you, wrapping his arms around your hips as he began to plant kisses on the back of your neck. Humming in response the random affection as you continued to drop the fishes in the oil.

“Missed you,” he muttered, his face was in your neck. Consuming your scent before beginning to kiss on it.

“You see me everyday, baby.”

His hand began to move to your breast, gently squeezing them, “that ain’t what I meant and y’know it.”

You attempted to push him away but it didn’t work completely. He did let go of your breast, still lingering near you like a hungry dog. When you moved to the sink, he was mere centimeters away. Then you moved to a counter, still centimeters away.

“Can you back the hell up? Our baby’ll be back at any moment now,” turning to him, “y’know it too. We can do whatever later. Besides I’m cooking.”

Bo began to drop down to his knees, looking up at you as he began to move his hands under your skirt, “I can make it quick then.” Suddenly, Bo’s head disappeared inside your skirt. You completely gave up on attempting to stop him. He is a stubborn, thing. Like a triton or incubus. Kissing up your thigh until Bo met your under garment. Pulling them away, met with your pussy.

“You ready,” he asked, muffled due to his head already being an inch away from your pussy.

A shaken sigh left you, “y-yea…”

Immediately attaching his mouth to your cunt. His thumbs opened you up more, licking your folds as his middle finger found his way inside you. Your hand cupped your mouth so the moans wouldn’t be so loud. Almost biting your hand until he reached your clit. Since you couldn’t see what he was doing, all you could do was feel him.

Moans intensified until you came in his mouth. He detached from you with a low chuckle, making your thighs quiver even more. Bo left the depths of your skirt , nonchalantly getting up to check on the catfish. Leaving you there, shaking. Taking the catfish, putting in on the platter, then putting in two more battered up fishes into the oil. He went to wash his hands. You took this as your opportunity to try and walk away from him. But he grabbed you by the arm,

“baby, we ain’t done.”

Helping you up then pushing you against the counter. Back facing him, Bo pulled your skirt up completely. His hand still your skirt balled up in one hand, his other was undoing his pants until his cock was out. Erected, twitchy, and dripping of sperm. Stroking it then pulling you up.

“Spit on it,” and you obliged. Spitting directly on it. He gave you a kiss on your neck, “good girl.”

Going behind you, stroking his cock until he was ready. But he also had to make sure you were as well. He uses his fingers to open you up, then he asked, “you ready for me?”

All you did was nod, but Bo only laughed, “I need some words come out your lips, sweetheart.”

“I-I’m ready…”

He inserted himself into you. Bring your bodies closer together, marking up your neck and shoulders as he pounded into you. The house was filled with your moans and pleas for him to slow down or at least stop going so deep inside of you. Pushing your hand on his abdomen but Bo grabbed your arm to put it behind you.

“It’s okay, I-I’m almost done— fuck. feel too good, baby.”

“Mhh, too deep,” was all you could mutter. He was all up in you and you couldn’t do a damn thing. Your husband eventually started using his finger to play with your clit again. Legs wobbling all over the place, the only thing holding you up was Bo. Your body tensed up before releasing on Bo, soon after he released inside of you. Then you heard foot steps on your porch. Bo quickly left you, pulling up his pants, then pushing your skirt back down. You both heard your daughter enter the house.

“Mama? Daddy? I’m home,” she slammed the door behind her. Walking around the house, “what y’all makin’?”

Bo saw the girl enter the kitchen and spoke, “hey, sweet thing, Mama started to feel uneasy so help her on the couch if you can. We’re making some catfish for our friends but I’ll save you a piece, okay?”

She nodded, you steadied yourself but held onto her. The living room couch wasn’t far, it wasn’t horrible to drag you along. A kiss on the forehead was placed by her before she oblivious walked away from you, “rest, Mama. You need it.”

A few moments later, Bo went into the living room to ‘check’ on you.

“I’ll take better care of you in a second, twins are pulling up soon. Catfish is almost done. You think they’ll notice even though I’m using your recipe?”

You just glared at him, causing him to laugh.

“You’re disgusting, Bo.”

He faked a pout, “y’know you love me,” then he planted a kiss on your forehead.

“I love you, baby.”

“Mhm, I love you too.”

[lightlybloomed]

"You Passed?!"

Lando helps you learn to drive. When you come back with your results, it’s all worth it.

You hadn’t planned on asking Lando Norris to teach you how to drive. It just kind of… happened. One moment you were griping about your driving instructor bailing last minute (again), and the next moment he was tossing you his car keys—his car keys—and grinning like it was the best idea he’d ever had.

“Come on,” he said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Famous last words,” you muttered as you slid into the driver’s seat.

He was, unsurprisingly, a good teacher. He kept it fun, never shouted (even when you nearly reversed into a bin), and offered tips no normal instructor ever would. Things like how to handle corners like a Formula 1 pro—not super helpful when you’re driving a 20mph zone, but still. It helped. He helped.

You’d never seen him so serious and focused and also somehow still so Lando—a mix of technical knowledge and chaotic encouragement, like: “Okay now pretend the examiner’s a race steward and you’ve gotta impress them to keep your license.” “Lando, that’s not how it works—” “Shhh just go with it.”

You practiced until your hands didn’t tremble when you reached for the gearstick. Until hill starts felt less like a panic attack and more like second nature. Until Lando leaned over, unbuckled his seatbelt dramatically, and said, “You’re ready.”

Your test was the next morning.

You made him stay home.

“If you wait at the test centre, I’ll fail,” you told him. “I’ll see your stupid hat out the window and panic.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. But you have to come back here after. Straight away. No detours.”

You nodded.

He grinned.

You drove off.

—

And now, an hour later, you're standing outside his flat, trying to calm your heartbeat. A crisp white pass certificate is folded in your pocket, slightly crumpled from the way you gripped it all the way here.

You knock once.

The door swings open within seconds.

Lando’s eyes land on you, searching your face. You say nothing.

He blinks. “Well?”

You grin.

“I passed.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then—

“NO WAY!”

He practically launches at you, arms wrapping tight around your waist as he lifts you off the ground and spins you in the doorway. You yelp, laughing.

“Lando! Oh my god—”

“You passed!” he cheers, setting you down but still holding you by the shoulders like you might float off. “I knew you would, but I was also like 10% terrified you’d crash into a tree and I’d be legally responsible.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you say, snorting.

“No seriously—I’m so proud of you.” His face softens, eyes warm and wide and ridiculously pretty. “You’ve worked so hard. And I know how nervous you were.”

You look down, suddenly shy. “You helped.”

He nudges your chin up with his knuckle. “Yeah, but you did the driving. I was just your emotional support co-driver.”

You laugh. “Best one I’ve ever had.”

“Obviously,” he says, mock-offended. Then he pulls you in for a proper hug—warm and grounding, like the kind you didn’t know you needed until now.

You tuck your head into his hoodie. “I feel like I just ran a marathon.”

He kisses the top of your head. “You did. With traffic lights and pedestrians and a man with a clipboard silently judging your every move.”

You stay like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other, until he suddenly pulls back, eyes wide.

“Wait. Does this mean you can legally drive me around now?”

You smirk. “Depends. How well do you behave in the passenger seat?”

He gasps. “Are you saying I’m a bad passenger?”

You raise an eyebrow.

He gasps again, dramatically this time. “Wow. I teach you to drive and this is the thanks I get. I’m heartbroken.”

You pat his cheek. “You’ll survive.”

“Will I?” he sighs, before grinning. “Come on. We’re celebrating. I’m making pancakes.”

“It’s 4 p.m.”

“Exactly. Pancake o’clock.”

You follow him inside, heart still buzzing.

You passed.

And Lando Norris is proud of you.

Honestly? That’s better than the license.

The kitchen smells like vanilla and syrup within minutes.

Lando flips pancakes with far more flair than necessary, like he's trying to win a Michelin star in pancake art. You sit at the island counter, chin resting in your hand, just… watching him. The way he hums off-key, barefoot in his sweatpants, hair still slightly damp from a mid-day shower. The little things that make up the Lando only you get to see.

It hits you then—how lucky you are. Not just because he helped you learn to drive. But because he made you feel like you could do it. Like failing wasn’t even a concept. Just another story to laugh about later.

He slides a pancake onto your plate and nudges a bottle of syrup your way. “Voilà.”

You blink, pretending to be unimpressed. “This looks suspiciously perfect. What did you do, Lando? Bribe the batter?”

“I used a secret ingredient,” he says solemnly, leaning across the counter. “Victory.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling.

He watches you take a bite and light up. “Okay, fine,” you admit through a mouthful. “I take it back. You’re a genius.”

“I knew I’d win you over with carbs.”

You both eat, trading stories from the test—how your examiner had a resting death glare, how you parallel parked like your life depended on it, how your hands were sweating so badly on the wheel it was borderline embarrassing.

Lando listens like every detail matters.

And when you pause mid-sentence, staring out the window, he nudges your leg under the counter.

“What’s up?”

You shrug, but it’s more of a sigh. “It’s just weird. I spent so long dreading that test. Like, it was this massive mountain. And now it’s… over.”

He studies you, quieter now. “You’re allowed to feel weird about that. But I am so proud of you.”

You look over, surprised at the softness in his voice.

“Lando…”

“Yeah?”

You pause. “Thanks for being proud of me. Like, genuinely.”

He leans forward on his elbows, head tilted. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno. It’s just… I’ve failed stuff before. Given up on things. Driving felt like it was gonna be one of those. And you didn’t let it be.”

His smile falters a little, turns into something deeper. “You think I would’ve let you give up?”

You shrug.

He stands, walks around the counter, and pulls you up gently by the hand. Now you’re standing in front of him, pancakes forgotten.

“I need you to listen, okay?” he says softly. “You’re allowed to struggle. You’re allowed to be scared. But I will never be disappointed in you for trying. I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll show up every time.”

You feel your eyes sting a bit. You hate crying. But this kind of kindness—it disarms you.

“God,” you laugh wetly. “You’re such a sap.”

He grins, brushing his thumb under your eye. “Only for you.”

You wrap your arms around his waist and he pulls you in close. It’s quiet for a while. Just the sound of his heartbeat and yours syncing up, his fingers drawing soft circles on your back.

Then, without letting go, he murmurs, “So… first road trip. When are we doing it?”

You snort. “Oh, now you trust me to drive you places?”

“I said road trip, not a death wish. I’ll bring a helmet.”

You slap his shoulder. “I’ll leave you at a service station.”

He laughs, but when he pulls back, he’s still holding you—his arms around your waist, your hands looped behind his neck.

He looks at you like he’s about to say something. Something big.

But instead, he just kisses your forehead.

Soft. Certain. Safe.

And somehow, that says more than words ever could.

You don’t need to hear it. Not yet.

You already know.

Later that night, when he drops you back home (yes, he still drove, despite the license), he waits until you’re at your door, then rolls down the window.

“Hey,” he calls.

You turn.

He grins. “Proud of you. Again.”

You beam. “I know.”

And maybe you’ve just passed your test, and maybe this whole thing started because you needed someone to teach you how to drive.

But somewhere along the way, Lando taught you a little more than that.

Like how to believe in yourself.

How to lean on someone when things get messy.

How to laugh through the panic.

And maybe—just maybe—what it feels like to be loved.

[nudityandnerdery]

Y'all, we really gotta start spending time with friends in person again. We gotta make public places accessible and safe for people and make plans to do things and follow through on them. I am a socially anxious neurodivergent jackass who has made most of my best friends online who masks at very high levels when I go outside and I love the internet, and I live with chronically ill people who struggle with wheelchair access sometimes, and so I'm familiar with a lot of the hindering factors to this, I promise, I'm not saying this to shame anyone who doesn't, but all I am saying is:

Y'all, we really gotta start spending time with friends in person again.

I deeply believe that the lack of actual social interaction time with other people in physical spaces is both one of the biggest problems in western society right now in how it is isolating people and making it easier for them to be radicalized, but also the result of intentional choices by some of the people who are taking advantage of it to radicalize us.

Spend time with friends in person. Hang out at a park and read a book while people play frisbee or whatever. Fly a kite. Find out what programs your local library has and sign up for one. Have a powerpoint presentation party and have everyone bring a snack.

And don't let perfect be the enemy of good here. Do what little pieces you can. Don't think, "Well, I can only half do this, I won't waste my time." If going to sit in a coffee shop for fifteen minutes while a musician plays is what you can do today, do it. And tell yourself that's a good start. You don't have to walk up to someone and make a best friend. Just let yourself be surrounded by the energy of other people for a little bit, of complete strangers.

Just fucking work on forming emotional bonds and community. Please. Don't rely on someone else's technology to replace actual human interaction.

[aphroditrist]

I have Neptune square ascendant on my mc I haven’t gone in for a diagnosis but people on the spectrum always say “I can spot someone on the spectrum” about me but everyone else doesn’t think I am and idrc either way. The lesson here is most definitely detachment, isn’t that what Neptune is? If Virgo is control and perfection Pisces would be letting go and acceptance. I’ve gotta say neptunes also about reflection so I tend to look best when I feel best. Honestly it’s probably just the way I can relate to everyone pretty well. But I feel like most people don’t get me. I’m currently having a 12th house transit with like 6 planets and it’s definitely showing up as public rumors I can’t control. Like there’s a narrative about me right now that’s entirely untrue but I don’t really have the means to stop it. But it doesn’t have to matter. I know the truth and people who know me know who I am.

This transit: Sun, Mercury, Neptune, Venus , and Saturn, north node,🥲 send help

Eventhough it’s a 12th house transit my experiences come out in (10th house neptune square ascendant and Jupiter exalted in the 4th) I feel like with this placement I attract so much attention and people always come up with these assumptions about me and if I don’t talk to them they go crazy putting shit together about me. It’s never bothered me before but thanks to this transit I literally have drama from highschool with people who didn’t go to my highschool and literally don’t know me at all (who moved across the country) mixing with my most immediate ex and his friend group and my school and I know my name is being thrown around. It is what you make of it though. I choose to embody power and that’s what I have been receiving. For a second I almost dropped out of school but

𝔑𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔲𝔫𝔢 𝔞𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔞𝔫𝔱

what i have noticed, the influence of neptune on your ascendant, what i have noticed. Is the people i have met with neptune on their ascendant, have been diagnosed with autism. i myself have neptune on my ascendant, and i have also been diagnosed with autism. We have this distant appearance, an appearance that is not to be understood, so people try to project everything onto us, people try to have a certain image of us, no matter how difficult that is. We come across as untouchable, as if you cannot reach our presence. and people get confused by us, how we are so unreachable. They want to come to us, to have a certain image of us. So that they can reach us, but they never succeed, because our personality is really a mask, a mirror of other people. That's why they can't reach us. Only themselves. people with this aspect are also always idolized, people literally get addicted, to the presence that neptune brings on the ascendant. All sorts of things are projected, all dream pictures. we are always maladaptive daydreaming, that is another reason why people can’t reach us. You know what else I have noticed? we are extremely insecure when we see pictures of ourselves, as if we look different in every picture, and it ruins our whole image. we get confused, and because of this we can become fixated on our appearance. we have an obsession when it comes to appearance. words touch us deeply, there is a lot going on inside us. No matter how calm we look from the outside, there is a lot going on inside us, that can be very dangerous, because people never know where we stand. did you know at first i didnt believe that neptune on the ascendant really causes an obsession in people when it comes to looks, until i met another girl with this aspect, and noticed how i tried to change my whole appearance to her. Its really unbelievable, the effect people with this aspect have on you. Its like you see a balloon, that you want to follow without knowing where it leads. People with this aspect that I have come across all have this dreamy look, a fantasy look, think fairy. It is a type of look that always floats in your mind. The just have this magical appeal to their appearance. And these are really the type of people who still watch Barbie in their adult years, they are full of dreaminess.

[bloomzone]

sooo y’all, let me tell you… these past 10 days I've been locking in and i reallyyy achieved a lot, and honestly i learned even more. i was still in my lil reflection era overthinking, analyzing, you know the usual but i also caught myself before i made some big mistakes. like i literally saved myself right before things could’ve gone bad and i wanna share this with y’all because i know someone needs to hear it too, especially if you’re stressed about exams right now.

lesson 1: please don’t change your study method last minute.

y’all, please, if you have finals or big exams coming up, do not start experimenting with new study methods. i made that mistake, fr. i saw this "easier" method on YouTube and was like omg this sounds perfect, maybe this is my new main way to study. but nooo, babe. that’s a trap. because when you change things up right before exams, you’re gonna end up confused, stressed, and behind. you'll start thinking like “omg time is running out and i still don’t get this” or “i haven’t memorized anything yet.” and that spiral is so real. so pls, stick to your main method the one that has worked for you so far. yeah, you can try adding small things or testing new tricks lightly on the side, but don’t fully switch everything right before big exams. keep your foundation strong, okay? trust me on this.

lesson 2: take meaningful breaks.

this one hit me hard. so when you’re taking breaks while studying, make them useful breaks, y’all. not the kind where you scroll on your phone for an hour and then feel worse. not the breaks where you just lay there thinking “what if i fail” because omg we’ve all done that and it never helps.

instead, do something that actually resets your brain. like cook yourself a meal, go out for a walk, change your environment, tidy your space a bit, or even journal your thoughts. for me, cooking during my breaks literally saves me i get food and i feel productive cuz like sometimes my brain hurt and when I get up to take a break and eat something THE FIRST BITE and I'm like "damn bro I was hungry" and then I eat and I feel better again but honestly, the best kind of break is stepping outside, grabbing a little snack or coffee, and breathing fresh air. just doing something small but active that makes you feel human again before you go back to your books.

lesson 3: slowly build your study stamina.

i used to be someone who could never study more than 3 hours a day, max. but these past 10 days? i actually pushed myself to study 5 to even 7 hours a day. which is crazy for me, honestly. and no, i’m not saying you have to study for hours nonstop because same, my usual safe goal is 3 hours too. but when you’ve got a pile of exams and subjects waiting, sometimes you really do need to go for those longer sessions.what helped me a lot is the pomodoro technique. and let me say this pomodoro is a technique, not a study method so you can still study your way but use pomodoro to manage your time.there’s this YouTube channel i found that reallyyyy helps. the videos are so cozy and calming they have these little lo-fi vibes with cats moving on the screen, and even tho i don’t really listen to music when i study, i just let those videos play for the background sound aside in my laptop. it kinda makes me feel like i’m studying with someone else and i stay productive for longer. usually it’s like 3-hour study sessions with three 5-minute breaks, and that structure really helped me go from my usual short sessions to longer, more focused study days. and let’s be honest, the cute cats motivate me more than they should lol. [The link of the channel ]

lesson 4: don’t panic (even if everything feels overwhelming).

and this is coming from someone who still panics before every exam lol. but sometimes, you just gotta tell yourself: enough. like, i will study, i will do my part, and the results will come how they come.especially if you’re someone like me who has 8+ subjects to juggle it can feel impossible to manage everything. i even tried that method i saw on YouTube where you study 3 subjects a day. thought it would save me, but honestly it didn’t work. i just ended up feeling like i was tripping around, lost and stressed.so now, i kinda made my own little method. i call it the 80/20 rule where you focus 80% of your day on your main subject, and 20% on a side subject. idk but 80/20 rule exist but I change it lmao like, let’s say you wake up at 8am and study till sunset. you spend the whole day focusing on your main subject (like history or math or whatever’s urgent). then in the evening, maybe from like 6pm to 8pm, you switch and study a different subject for a bit. and the next day, you make that second subject your new main focus. so you’re rotating, but still giving serious time to each one. i don’t even know if this is an actual a method, but it works for me, and that’s what matters.and again, please don’t try completely new study methods when you’re close to exams. you will only stress yourself out more. stick to what you know works, trust the process, and stay consistent. i promise, you got this.

lesson 5: please please please… don’t go on a diet during school season.

like i swear i should’ve put this one first, because it’s that serious. and no i didn’t make this mistake myself (and i never will), but i just need to say this to you right now. like please don’t go on a diet during school or exam season. i beg you.i don’t know who needs to hear this today, but you are a student. your brain, your body, needs food. you need fuel to even survive school days, let alone study and pass exams. so whatever you’re doing right now whether it's weight loss, calorie counting, fasting please, stop and pause . if you wanna follow a diet, i get it, but wait until a time when you’re not under this much stress. because dieting during school will only make things worse. no summer body is worth feeling dizzy, tired, and unfocused during your exams babe. like, i promise you you will literally feel like you’re dying if you try to diet hard right now.

i know some people started their diets months ago and maybe they’re used to it by now, and that’s fine. but please if you’re thinking of starting, or if you’re already cutting down too much don’t be harsh on yourself. like, please don’t fall into that mindset where you think eating one egg and drinking black coffee is enough for the day. bro, that won’t help you focus. food is also focus. food is energy. food is survival.you’re not a robot who can just skip meals and still function at 100%. you’re a human, and your body needs real nutrition to help your brain stay sharp and your body stay strong during this season.especially if you’re in the middle of exams, or have big deadlines coming please don’t starve yourself. eat, babe. and no ofc i’m not saying go eat just anything. like, don’t only munch on junk food either because that won’t make you feel fresh and alive eat meals that actually fuel you something that makes your body feel clean, your mind clear, and your energy steady.

and omg, don’t forget water. like, i’m so serious about this always, always, keep a water bottle next to you while studying. sometimes you think you’re tired, but your body is just dehydrated. water helps your brain focus, helps you avoid headaches, and just keeps everything running smoothly. trust me on this.

so please, please…

don’t go into diet culture mode while you’re in your student grind season. your body and brain are already under enough stress. don’t add more. eat, stay hydrated, fuel yourself right and you’ll actually perform better. save the weight loss plans for days when you can do it gently, without risking your health . i love you and i just wanna see you win not collapse. so please, eat food and drink your water and don't be harsh on yourself

@bloomzone

[stoicjewel]

What if Stanley somehow went to college WITH Ford?

An au that I pulled out of my ass at 10pm, while eating a soggy taco.

Ford couldn't believe it. A being beyond his comprehension, a muse of great importance and power, chose HIM to be his partner. His link to the physical plane. And now here he was, working together with his brother and best friend to make his greatest idea a reality.

Ford was currently leaning over his desk, recording important sequences he needed to pass to Fiddleford later. They were so close to getting this done, he could practically taste the sweet flavor of victory. Of acknowledgement. Or perhaps that was his tenth cup of coffee he had chugged in the last two hours.

Suddenly, Ford hears a sharp knock on the door, followed by the sound of a raspy cough.

Ford let out a sigh. "Come in."

Stanley walks into the room, wearing a gruff expression. He grabs a nearby chair, and sits down in it with his chin resting against the top rail of the chair.

Ford raises his brow, before letting out a slight huff of annoyance. "Stanley, would it kill you to sit in a chair correctly for once?"

"Yes it would. It would probably end the universe as we know it if I sat down with a stick up my ass like you." Stanley deadpanned in response, staring through Ford with an expression that reminded Ford of their mother.

Ford sighed, but decided not to dignify the comment with a response. He sets down his quill, turning around in his chair and crossing his arms with a furrowed brow. "Did you come into my office just to bother me? You know I'm busy Stanley."

"No. I wanted to talk to you about our project."

Ford's brows furrowed further. "What's there to talk about? It should be completed soon, don't tell me you're getting antsy already."

Stan rolled his eyes. "That's not what I wanted to say and you know it. Look, I'm starting to have second thoughts about this whole thing-"

"Don't tell me Fiddleford has been putting ideas in your head," Ford said with a sharp tone, practically glaring into Stanley's eyes with a burning intensity. "Stanley, we have been working on this project for MONTHS. Almost a year at this point! We're on the verge of a monumental discovery that could be the next step for humanity as we know it! Just think of it Stanley! A pathway to other words, other dimensions-"

"WILL YOU LET ME TALK?!" Stanley suddenly cuts through Ford's spiel, making him fall silent. Stanley cleared his throat, dragging a hand across his face with a sigh. "Look, I get it just as much as you do."

"I'd love to discover interdimensional space travel as much as the next guy. Id love to be one of the scientists who helped make the dozens of comic books and pieces of science fiction into reality. But we gotta think about this."

"What is there to think about?" Ford chides, starting to feel a sinking feeling in his chest. "We're scientists Stanley, this is what we do! We research, we create, we explore! We have the knowledge to make this a reality, so why shouldn't we take the chance?"

Stanley let out a sigh before standing from his chair, starting to pick at a loose thread on his lab coat. "Yeah, we are scientists. With enough research, determination, and possibly fatal trial and error, I'm sure we could make or discover whatever shit we want. But just because we CAN, that doesn't mean we SHOULD, Ford. Did you ever stop to think about that?"

Ford keeps his eyes on Stanley's face. His eyes drift from his brother's seemingly stoic appearance, before noticing the small furrow in his brow, the slight twitch in his lip. The almost invisible signs of worry.

Ford didn't need to be worried about. He didn't need to be protected or watched, like some sort of child. He didn't need Stanley to follow him around like a lost dog, fighting his battles for him. To think for him, tell him what's safe and what's not. Not anymore.

Ford let out a huff, turning back to his work. "I don't need your opinion on this Stanley. I can handle myself, thank you very much. Is there anything else you need, or can I return to my work?"

Stanley stayed in place, watching the back of Ford's head silently for a few moments. He eventually shook his head, his eyes falling to the floor. "No. Doesn't seem like you're willing to listen right now anyway." Stanley muttered under his breath, barely audible. With that, Stan left the study, leaving Ford alone with his thoughts. And perhaps a golden friend, if he was lucky.

[sloaneispunk]

thunderbolts*

bucky didn’t know he was capable of falling in love but when he received a distressing call from you, for the first time he felt something other than anger.

“you must be y/n.”

you looked up from your phone to see a familiar face.

“you’re james buchanan barnes.” you cocked your eyebrow, making him chuckle. “don’t try to persuade me into changing teams, even though i must commend the look… you’re this close to getting me on your side.” you joked.

bucky was lost for words, suddenly everything he had rehearsed disappeared from his mind. “look, i-uh just wanted to uh, warn you about valentina.”

“i know who she is and what she’s doing.” you nodded, “i don’t want to do this either, believe me if it were up to me, i would be on your side.”

that’s all bucky needed to know that now, he had an inside person exactly where he needed it.

“here, take this.” he said as he handed you a small slip of paper.

“what is it?”

“my number. call me if you need me.”

a while later

“come on, seriously? can’t you at least untie us?” yelena groaned as she and her team found themselves stuck in an old shed after bucky had initially saved their asses.

“you’re basically criminals. and until i figure out what to do with you, you’ll stay here where i can keep an eye on you.” bucky replied, rolling his eyes. “so who is this rogue vigilante you’re all talking about?”

“bob!” the thunderbolts exclaimed in unison.

“bob?”

“bob!”

just before he could resume his interrogation, his phone rang. bucky looked at the number that flashed on his phone, it was unknown. he signaled the team to quiet down then answered the phone.

“hello?-”

“bucky, it’s y/n.” your voice cut him off.

he choked. “y/n? d-did you dial the wrong number?”

“no, look, i don’t have time-valentina has something, no, someone in her possession. some guy called bob. she’s already started her manipulation and bucky, he’s dangerous…”

“are you safe?” his voice softened. in the background, a not so subtle yelena let out a snort, trying her best to stifle her laughter.

“i think valentina’s starting to catch on, but-shit! i gotta go, bucky please hel-”

then the line went dead. bucky’s hand dropped to his side, the other running through his hair as he sucked in a breath.

“what is it, soldier? your girlfriend in trouble?” yelena teased as alexi started to join in.

“reminds me of your mother and i, except i was the one always calling her for help.”

but bucky was having none of it, he stormed towards the team and started to cut the ropes off their binded hands.

“this doesn’t mean i’m letting you go. we’re just making a stop somewhere.” he muttered out.

“works for me.” ava shrugged.

at the compound

“so everyone wait for my signal and we’ll sneak in quietly pass the guards and find y/n. got it?” said yelena. “wait where’s bucky?”

suddenly, a big white delivery truck drove straight pass the team, crashing into the compound, startling everybody.

as the dust settled, bucky hopped out of the vehicle and started to march his way towards the elevator doors, leaving the rest of the team to fend off the guards.

in the elevator, bucky was nervous. he looked down at his hands to see them shaking. maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was the fact that the girl he couldn’t stop thinking about for the past few days was in trouble because of him.

the bell dinged, signaling that it was his stop to get off. as soon as the doors opened, he drew his gun. but there was no sign of you or valentina anywhere.

“valentina!” he yelled, voice laced with anger. “i know you have y/n! let her go, this is between you and me!”

“oh, but it’s not, is it?” valentina replied. bucky’s eyes shot towards where her voice was coming from: the top of the glass stairs. but she wasn’t alone.

she too had a gun drawn, but it wasn’t at him. it was at you. slowly, she led you down the stairs step by step as bucky’s grip tightened on the gun.

“let her go valentina.” he seethed. oh now he was fuming.

“actually, you’re right. she’s no use to me, she might as well be one of you now… what a bad girl.” valentina scoffed, shoving you straight at bucky once your feet had touched the ground.

bucky faltered, one arm rushing to catch you, the other trying its best to stay focused on her. you felt bucky’s hand immediately take a hold of your arm, gently pulling you behind him.

as the tensions between the two was getting thicker with every second that passed, the elevator bell rung once more. this time it was the remaining thunderbolts.

“jesus, you work fast.” walker scoffed as they were all face to face with their common rival now.

“ah, just in time, my favourite rogue vigilantes.” the woman clapped her hands. “welcome! you’re just in time to be the first to witness my new invention… bob, honey, come here.”

everyones gaze shifted to the new person that joined the room, it was bob. but he was different.

he had an awful, way too tight comic-like costume on and bright blonde hair.

“is that bob?” yelena asked aloud.

“no lena, this is my new creation, sentry. sentry, say hi.”

“hey guys.” he nervously gave the team an awkward wave.

“enough with the bullshit valentina.” walker intervened, throwing his shield at full force in her direction.

but what happened next came as a shock to everyone. sentry had caught the shield, not only that but he had bent the metal almost into itself before throwing it back at walker, causing him to be thrown back onto his back at the force.

“did he just turn the john walker shield into a taco?” you gasped as the team charged forward, lunging at bob.

you too decided to get off your ass to assist them in the fight, drawing your gun and aiming at bobs’ legs so you would only wound him enough to slow him down.

but each and everyone’s efforts were futile as the literal god had effortlessly took them down one by one, sending the team scurrying away.

he had somehow ripped out bucky’s vibranium arm and tossed it as well as him on the floor. you ran towards him, wrapping your arms around his torso and helping him up, yelena grabbing his arm on the way back to the elevator.

when the elevator door closed and you had made sure you were safe from valentina, you looked up at bucky to see that he was already looking down at you. he didn’t say a word, simply leaning towards you as your grip tightened around him, gently squeezing him to let him know that he was alright.

as everyone got to the ground floor, alexi finally broke the silence.

“did we just lose?!”

“yeah genius, we did.” ava retorted.

“he’s too strong.” bucky panted, momentarily moving away from you as he took his metal arm back from yelena, making sure he was a distance away before attaching it back.

the thunderbolts started to argue. no one understood how a seemingly timid, awkward guy like bob could turn into such a monster.

you watched the heroes yell and scream at each other, not noticing bucky walking up next to you once more.

“hey, you okay?” he asked, gently touching your arm, getting you to face him.

“i should be asking you.” you tried to lighten the mood, but there was not a single trace of a smile on his face.

“did she hurt you?” he asked once more, inspecting your face for marks or bruises. then, his eyes landed on a dark bruise on your cheekbone. he raised his hand hesitantly, waiting for your permission before he traced he bruise. “was it her?”

you nodded. “you know valentina, she doesn’t like traitors.”

bucky’s eyes soften, something tugged at his heart, it made him feel something. “i wish i could have been there sooner when you called.”

“don’t say that… i made the call, you couldn’t have stopped it.” you gave him a small smile.

bucky then took your hand, tugging at it to follow him as he sat down on the dusty floor, slumped against the wall. he patted the spot next to him in which you gladly complied.

“so what now?”

“i don’t know… but i don’t think the team’s gonna stick together after that.” he replied, pointing to the yelling and shouting that was taking place within the group not too far away.

you sighed. “well, what are you going to do, me congressman?”

he playfully rolled his eyes, scoffing. “i think i could go for a bite… wanna come along?”

“how can i say no?”

[moth2flamewriting]

Easier

So, I figured I would take my time putting this one out. I don't like feeling like I'm rushing to write and then giving you guys bullshit to read.

I appreciate all the positive feedback, it makes me feel super confident in my writing!

ENJOY.

"You makin' love so easy," the words lazily slipped out of her mouth.

"That's cause we was meant to be Annie," Smoke grinned.

The Beginning of the Day...

She woke up to and immediately thought the worst. It had been almost 2 years since Smoke came back to town. She was prepared for the worst and hoping for the best.

Her furrowed brows loosened as aromas wafted in from the doorway.

He was making her breakfast, well lunch.

She rolled out of bed on a hot July afternoon. In complete bliss from the last 2 years she's had with her husband.

He'd been so consistent, so.. present. The war wasn't holding him hostage. He was clear minded. He was focused, and it was on her.

As she got up, Elijah walked through the door with a big shit eating grin.

"I got sumn' for ya." He was always doing something.

"You gotta close ya eys if you wanna see,' he teased.

Annie was always in the mood for his surprises.

"Lijah, don't let me fall now,' she joked back.

He guided her out through their living room and into the kitchen.

"Baby.. you've really outdone yourself," turning into his chest with happy tears falling down her face.

64 roses arranged on the kitchen table. A note. Not only that, there sat a ring.

They were already married, but this? This was a moment she always dreamed of sharing with him. Specifically, him.

Approaching the table, hands gravitating towards the letter that read:

Annie,

I waited a long time to come back to what we had. I ran. I hurt you. I should've stayed here with you. I can't change the past, only what I do from here on out. And that's show you.

I prayed for you, not even knowing who the prayer is going to. I just pleaded with whoever to get me back to you. Asked the big hole in the sky day in and day out to reunite us. I love you Annie. Everyday that passes by I wake up loving you more than I did yesterday.

You are the light on my darkest days. You are the moon and the stars and everything in between. What better way to prove that to you? I dedicate my life to your happiness, peace, and wellbeing. I'm choosing you in this moment the way I choose you every day.

I know in every lifetime that you & I will be reunited because when it's meant to be, it lasts forever.

Thank you for who you are. For helping me become who I am. Now I just have one more question for you baby..

Yours forever,

Elijah

p.s. Turn around!

She was gasping for breath, chest rising and falling so rapidly.

She turned. And there he was, on bended knee, reaching for the ring.

Tears welded in their eyes. THIS MOMENT, specially made for them.

"Now, I know you probably thinking I done lost my damn mind. But I have to have you for the rest of my life. So I was wonderin' if you would be my wife?," he asked.

"I'd marry you one hundred times over Elijah," she replied.

He placed the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit. They were perfect for each other.

He knew that this was something she longed for even after they got married. He made her dreams a reality.

What started off as a kiss of appreciation, escalated quickly into a heavy session. Tongues dancing, hands gliding up and down eachothers bodies.

He cups her face with two large hands, caressing her cheeks. Plants a sweet kiss on her lips. Her forehead. Her cheek. Traveling down her face licking, biting and sucking on her neck.

Her hands holding the back of his head. If he wasn't holding her up, her knees would've gave out right from under her.

"Smoke you bitin' me so hard, you gon leave a mark," she hissed.

Everybody knew she was his already anyway, it wouldn't be the first time she had to walk around with love marks.

"I can't keep my mouth off of you, you're so sexy," he growled into her chest. "Take your shirt off," he demanded.

She obeyed his request.

Soft, plump titties fell out of her dress. He was mesmerized. Her nipples were so hard, sensitive to the touch. He wanted to suck them. That sent her body into a frenzy.

He pulled her towards the couch where he sat down and pulled her to sit in his lap. Her breast directly in his face, he took the erect nipple in his mouth. Sucking lightly, biting them softly. Moans fell out of her mouth. She dug her nails into his shoulder, leaving marks.

"Elijah, the way you touching me got me going crazy, I can feel my pussy getting wet for you," she moaned.

His dick was hard as fuck. Between the titties, the moans and her rocking back and forth on his dick.

She felt him growing under her. She needed more friction. She rocks harder. The only barrier between then are her panties. She's leaking onto his pants.

"Baby, I'm bout to cum for you."

"Oh no no noooo," he stops her. He grabs her around waste with one hand to lift her up a little, he uses his other hand to rip her panties off and pull his dick out.

Her body hovered in the air as he lined himself up with her slick opening. He guided the tip of his dick into her gushy, warm pussy.

Annie's head fell back, mouth agape, "Ohhh my god Daddy, i feel so full already." He wasn't even in her yet.

"Your dick is so big baby, I don't think I can take that." She said that everytime.

"You can take it baby, I'm gon lower you on this dick nice and slow," he growled.

Her pussy was too wet. Too warm. It was too good.

She sank further onto him. Taking breaks in between.

"Smoke, please just fuck me with this much.. I can't take nomore dick," she begged him.

"Aw baby, you almost there," he wraps his hands around Annie holding her ass open with one cheek and rubbing her asshole slowly, using her pussy juices as lubricant.

She could help but sink down on his dick as he played in her ass. Slightly teasing her hole.

She screamed, "Fuck Daddy! You're so big."

He began to lift her up slowly using her ass cheeks as leverage. Her pussy was so slick on his dick. Dripping all over them. She was riding him so slow, he thought be might cum right then and there.

"Your pussy is so fucking good, I'm gon spend the resr of my life diggin' in you baby," Smoke moaned.

"You like the way I ride that dick daddy? Put your finger back in my ass so I can bust all over you," she was playing a dangerous game.

He teased at her ass making him ride him harder. She's slamming her pussy on to his dick now. He can feel her heartbeat he so deep inside her.

"I love you baby," she whimpers.

"I love you Elijah."

"Your dick is so good."

"You tearing me up Smoke."

"You so deep in me baby, fuck."

She was a wreck. His dick made her dizzy. It was soooo good.

"Annie baby.. I- I'm boutta nut all in your pussy. Your pussy grippin my dick so good," his hips started to buck.

Annied lowered her lips to his ear. "I'm about to squirt all over you daddy. Right there. Don't stop pounding my pussy oh my-," it gushed out of her all over his dick. He fucks her even harder.

"I love fucking this pussy baby, Daddy bout to cum right in you," he grunts.

Annie's slamming her pussy onto him. Over and over. It sounds like a love audience.

"Cum in this pussy daddy. Please nut in me," she begged.

Hammering into her, he releases all cum in her with a string of cuss words to follow.

"Oh fuck Annie, i'm fucking cummin' in this wet ass pussy.. you got the best fuckin pussy baby. You're so beautiful."

They both slow down to look at each other. He's still inside of her. Neither one of them want to part.

Trying to find words, they just stare in admiration.

"I love you, Elijah."

"I love you, Annie."

"You makin' love so easy," the words lazily slipped out of her mouth.

Her head now nestled in his neck.

"That's cause we was meant to be Annie," Smoke grinned.

They spent the rest of the day basking in their "engagement" and making love all over their house.

Exactly the way it would always be.

Just them.

the end.