#like she told him she never sees his ugly and he's starting to do that

[panboba]

I cannot help but to think that Ratchet always had feelings for Orion Pax/Optimus. "You Belong with Me" by Taylor Swift perfectly goes well with his feelings towards Optimus dating Megatronus/Megatron. Basically Ratchet fell in love at first sight with Orion and the two became best friends, their dynamic didn't change until Megatronus came in the picture.

"Cause she wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts

She's Cheer Captain and I'm on the bleachers"

This lyrics can be Ratchet comparing his average boring frame to Megatronus powerful frame and realizing he's just a medic who no one cares but Megatronus is a famous gladiator who gets all the glory.

"And you've got a smile that can light up this whole town

I haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down

You say you're fine, I know you better than that

Hey, whatcha doing with a girl like that?"

This can be Ratchet being frustrated that Optimus still hopes for Megatron to redeem. Ratchet remembers when Orion would smile so beautifully but then the war happened and Ratchet never got to see his dear crush/friend smile again all because of Megatron.

"She wears high heels, I wear sneakers

She's Cheer Captain and I'm on the bleachers"

This lyrics reminded me of Ratchet taking Synthetic Energon. Ratchet hates that he's always on the autobot base and he feels can do so much more. He hates that his crush's ex is an fearsome important figure as Optimus is. Ratchet wishes to fight alongside with Optimus and even get Optimus to SEE him instead of Megatron.

"Oh, I remember you driving to my house

In the middle of the night

I'm the one who makes you laugh

When you know you're 'bout to cry

I know your favorite songs

And you tell me 'bout your dreams

Think I know where you belong

Think I know it's with me"

Ratchet still remembers how Orion came to his home and started sobbing in his arms because Megatronus was furious at Orion for taking his place at the Prime Council despite not being the Archivist's intention. Orion explains that they got in a very ugly argument and Orion thinks that Megatronus has broken up with him.

Ratchet comforts him and is secretly filled with wrath and wants to beat the frag out of Megatronus. How could he be so envious and selfish towards a bot he's supposed to love and cherished. All Orion did was helped him with his cause and he did. Stupid, useless, bucket head. He sees Orion still sobbing, so he cracks up a joke which Orion gets caught off guard and laughs. Ratchet smiles and comfortingly holds Orion's helm.

"Can't you see that I'm the one who understands you

Been here all along, so why can't you see?

You belong with me

Standing by and waiting at your back door

All this time, how could you not know, baby?

You belong with me, you belong with me

You belong with me

Have you ever thought just maybe

You belong with me?

You belong with me"

Then the last scene is just Ratchet holding an old confession letter, it was a poem written for Orion. He was supposed to confess his feelings towards Orion but he was too late because on that same day, Orion came at Ratchet with such love in his optics, and joyfully told Ratchet that Megatronus has courted him. He still remembers how his spark suddenly started to break, and the medic tried to hold his tears and tried positively think that at least his dear friend has found happiness and that's what mostly matters. "I'm really happy for you Orion". Back to the present, Ratchet just depressingly sighs.

[lokisprettygirl]

Fix You Fix me (Bill Skarsgård! Eric Draven x Female Reader) (Au)

Read Chapter 15 here / Series Masterlist

Chapter 16

Summary : Eric finishes the game Regina started but his past comes back to haunt him anyways.

Warning: Fat shaming, body shaming, manipulation, domestic violence, child abuse, cheating, reader has a spine, emotional abuse, reader's weight will be mentioned because the fic demands it

You watched the video. Of Course you did. Every minute of it. There were multiple death threats in your DM's at the moment. Regina started off the video while doing her makeup, like most influencers do because it was a story time.. then she posted pictures of herself and Eric, showcasing how much she loved him and how he was the one to come after her incessantly even though she didn't even know him or who he was. Lies.

Then she went to post that picture of you with her at the gym, she didn't take your name, she called you a homewrecker throughout the video.

That was fun to watch.

Then she went on and on about how you always had eyes on Eric even though you had a boyfriend and how you seduced him which eventually led to the alleged cheating. She uploaded the image of you and Eric walking home hand in hand to solidify her point, claiming that it was taken months ago when it was taken a week ago..she even cried three times throughout the whole video.

Her video was everywhere now. Youtube, reddit, Tumblr, in mere hours the situation had escalated and grown like wildfire. People called you names and of course it bothered you, it indeed bothered you, but for some reason that wasn't even what hurt you the most.

It was when people began talking shit about how mid ugly men like Eric had diamond and still went for dime, jealous girls came forward and made fake stories about how he had hit on them when they went for membership at the gym, the same girls he refused to take in because they just wanted to gawk at him. They were going as far as tagging the NPC’s official account , asking them to disqualify him.

And that's what hurt you the most. This was something that could ruin his chances at winning the competition, you knew how important this was to him, the money would help with the gym and Patricia's medical care and to think all of that can be taken and ruined because some salty bitch was jealous and acting out? You didn't know how to cope with that, you felt responsible for all of it. You knew you looked wrong in the situation, So did Eric because you two knew each other while he was dating Regina.

The moment Shelly told you, you ran back to your apartment even though Patricia tried to make you sit down and talk about it, you didn't want to break down in front of her. You paced the room, phone in hand, watching the screen light up with fresh notifications, more comments, more tags, more messages filled with venom. You could barely bring yourself to open his profile, scared to see what people were saying there. But you had to. You had to know.

Your heart clenched as you scrolled and saw the fresh comments on a picture he had updated ages ago ..

Didn’t know @ nationalphysiquechampionship allowed cheaters.

He’s not even hot, Regina carried his relevance.

Imagine biting the hand that fed you just for a fat homewrecking bitch.

This guy hit on me too at the gym. Creepy AF

You felt sick. Not just because of the lies, but because he had worked so hard to pull himself together after everything life had thrown at him. He never asked for this. You texted Eric before turning your phone face down on the table and clenched your fists.

*******

Eric had been trying to reach you since morning, he had a long busy day at the gym, some clients preferred sessions on weekends but when Chance told him about the video he was immediately worried, not for himself but you.

You : I'm so sorry, it's all happening because of me

He received a message and his eyes teared up, he knew he couldn't stall this, he had to go speak to you about this and make sure you weren't putting blame on yourself..

“Hey Call Mrs. Payne and ask her if she'd be willing to reschedule.. I need to go see y/n” Eric said to Chance in passing as he rushed out of the gym. He could take the hate. He had taken worse before. But you? You didn’t deserve a second of this. You hadn’t done anything wrong. And yet, all those vile comments were targeted at you , shredding your name while hiding behind anonymous screens.

He had the code already so he entered the building and stood outside your door waiting for you to open. The moment he saw your tears soaked, puffed up face, he just wanted to hurt someone.

Well Regina specifically.

“I'm so sorry Eric” you burst into tears again so he immediately pulled you in his arms as he closed the door behind him.

“Shhhh no..no baby no.. you don't get to apologise for this” he murmured softly as he cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears. His lips lingered over your forehead and then your cheeks one by one as he tried to calm your sobs.

“They're going too far..they're trying to ruin your chances at the competition and i have seen how hard you have worked for this-”

His eyes welled up at the broken whisper of your voice, you weren't even hurt because of what they were saying about you, you were worried about him.

He shook his head slowly, brushing your hair back with a gentleness that only made your heart ache more.

“You think that matters more than you?”

You tried to pull away, but he held your face in his hands, not letting you hide.

“Look at me” he whispered “Do you really think I give a damn about a competition if you’re in here blaming yourself and breaking down because of it?”

You wouldn't even have blinked if he held you responsible for it. Jake taunted you even when you became a minor inconvenience in his professional life or did something that made him feel embarrassed in public. You couldn't fathom why Eric was so calm about this.

“But it’s your dream, Eric. You need this. You told me the money would change your life—”

“And I still need it” he interrupted your deprecating thoughts “but even if I lost it I won't allow you to sit here and carry the blame because of Regina and her mindless followers”

You collapsed against his chest again, the sobs breaking loose like a dam. He let you cry, arms wrapped tightly around you, one hand smoothing slow circles into your back.

“I'm going to handle this okay? We haven't done anything wrong, we know that, she does too”

Eric didn’t say another word, he just bent down and gently scooped you up into his arms. You instinctively curled into his chest, fists clutching at the fabric of his t-shirt, your sobs shaking both your bodies.

He walked over to the couch and sat down with you in his lap, one arm cradling your back, the other cupping the back of your head. He held you like you were something precious, something fragile that he wouldn't allow the world to break.

“I'll take care of this baby I promise, I'll take care of you..you're my girl aren't you?”

You sobbed even harder at the soft cadence, you had never been treated this way before, for a moment you thought you were dreaming, that he wasn't even there or as if you were having an out of body experience, watching yourself be comforted so preciously.

You still remembered how Jake had reacted when Regina had posted that picture of you with her, he had refused to hold you and had left you all alone.

“I have got you mmmm?” He murmured sweet nothings in your ears, his palm rubbed against your back gently.

As your sobs slowly died, you pulled away to look at him, he tucked your hair away from your face, a small smile on his face as kissed you softly.

“There you are…i need you to stop worrying about it okay? It's just internet noise, it's not real” he mumbled softly

“What if they disqualify you?” you asked him, worrying that he'd not be allowed to compete anymore because of the scandal.

“I have done nothing wrong, they can't do that.. you believe me now okay?” you nodded as he said that, crying in his arms had lessened some of the weight you carried but there was still that anxiety that didn't allow you to be completely at ease.

“Let me drop you at Ma’s..Shelly would be there too, can you do this for me? I don't want you to be here alone with all those negative thoughts” He asked so you nodded. You would have jumped into a well if he had asked so softly.

“Sorry…didn't mean to pull you away from work”

“Shhhh no..never apologise for needing me..I'll come tonight..you want to stay the night at Mama’s?”

“I don't want to be a burden-” you mumbled meekly so he tilted his head. “Okay I will”

While you were at Patricia's you received a call from your mother but you didn't have the guts to speak to her at the moment, you knew what she would say. It would be nothing good, that was for sure.

A few minutes later, a long message popped up.

Mom : I saw the video, your father did too, So Jake was right all along huh? I can’t believe you’ve gotten yourself involved in such filth. Regina is heartbroken and humiliated, she considered you a friend and here you are clinging to her leftovers. What kind of girl does that? Eric is nothing but trouble..tattoos, violent crime, a broken home. He’s not your future, he’s a phase. Stop embarrassing us. We raised you better than this y/n.. for god's sake you're almost thirty three and yet acting like a teenager going through a rebellious phase.

The words stung. You swallowed hard, locking your phone and pulling the blanket tighter around you. Patricia noticed the change in your face but didn’t press, just silently wheeled over and took your hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Later that night Eric sat down in his apartment and finally decided to put the truth out there for the world to see, he wouldn't have cared enough if it was just about him but it wasn't. He was the one to break up with her so he understood she was upset with him but getting you involved in this mess was crossing a line and he wasn't going to let everyone walk over you like this. Once he was done recording, he edited the video and posted it on his instagram before he left for Patricia's.

The door to the guestroom was open so he entered quietly, you were asleep all curled up on the bed so he crawled under the sheets and pulled you closer.

Your arms wrapped around him the moment you felt his warmth even though you were deep in sleep.

Next morning you woke up and Eric was at the gym already, you were dreading how you were going to face everyone at work, wondering how many people had seen the video and judged you for it.

But as you unlocked your phone and looked for Regina’s video, it was gone.

“Wait what is happening ?’ you murmured under your breath as you opened reddit, there were posts on the la influencers subreddit about Eric and the videos he had updated so you immediately switched to instagram. Around 3 last night Eric had uploaded a video on his instagram account. You sat up on the bed as you clicked the video, heart beating so fast you feared it would burst out of your chest.

The video started with Eric sitting in front of his desk in his bedroom. He cleared his throat before he began speaking.

“Uhhh hi..I don't normally do this because..well I don't care enough about what bunch of strangers tend to think about me but since this thing has blown way out of proportion..here's my two cents. Anyone who is listening to this..you're not obligated to believe me so if you want to continue with the hate, drag my name through the mud, file petitions, go ahead and have fun while you're at it. I think that's the most fun some of you get in your lives and I don't want to take it away”

Your brows raised in slight amusement because he was saying all that with deadpan expressions, typical Eric behaviour.

“First thing first… I never went after Regina. She asked me out. She came after me. And here’s the proof” he said, shifting a bit in his seat and holding up his phone “I learned how to do this screenshot overlay thing just now… so might as well flex the skill” he added, shaking his head slightly at himself. A couple of screenshots popped up then, showing how Regina massaged him first, asking to Collab which then progressed to her asking him out, he even said no a couple of times but she was insistent.

“Again yes ..y/n was my client and yes we were both in a relationship when I started training her but nothing happened between us until like a week ago..that's exactly how long it's been since we have been together. That picture Regina claimed that was taken months before was in fact taken a week ago and I'll post a clip of us walking out of the gym with the timestamp and everything in the same outfit”

You saw as the l video of you two popped up on the side of the screen from the same day.

“Now with that out of the way, here's a picture of my ex Regina taken almost four months prior, we were still together at this point by the way, just so you know..” he paused as the picture was flashed across the screen “Yeah there she is kissing someone that's not me..let me just share my screen so I can pull up the date this picture was sent to me..we broke up on 12th..this picture was taken on 10th..and before anyone cries photoshop ..here are some messages Regina sent to me on 12th after i broke up with her”

Screenshots popped up again, messages from Regina starting from her begging him to forgive her for cheating to then her threatening to end him, asking him to take her back or she'll ruin him, he paused for a moment, eyes flicking toward the screen, his tone still calm, but there was a sharpness behind every word now, controlled fury buried under restraint.

“So yeah… before you paint me and my girl as the villain in Regina’s tragic heartbreak story, maybe take a second to learn more about all the sides before you crucify someone”

He leaned back slightly, cracking his neck with a tight roll of his shoulder, then his voice softened for a moment “Y/N is not some homewrecker, and she’s not a clout chaser, she doesn't walk around with a camera tucked under her arm all the time, dying to capture every moment of her life for the world to see and she definitely doesn't deserve to wake up to random people wishing death upon her.

She was my friend, we were there for each other in difficult times and it progressed from there, i'm not going to justify or explain the hows and whys because it's none of anyone's business but you don’t get to rip her apart due to some baseless accusations laid out by a complete moron”

He paused again, visibly swallowing back emotion.

“I rest my case. This is the last time I’m gonna speak about this online. I have a competition to prepare for, yeah still not disqualified by the way.. I have a gym to run, actual human beings to train, and women to cherish in my life. So if you have something to say, come say it to me, keep her out of this. Come spew your bullshit to my face instead of hiding behind a cat picture, I’m not very hard to find..you all know where I'm at..and Regina if you want to keep this up, I'll have my lawyer get in touch with you”

Eric took a slow breath, and for a moment, you could see his jaw tighten as if restraining himself. Then he looked back at the camera, reached forward and ended the video.

You blinked at the screen, a lump forming in your throat. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t even speak. All you could do was watch the flood of comments pouring in under the post.

Damn. Never heard this guy speak before in Regina's videos so watching him go off like this was weird

He really came back with receipts #whataking

Damn Regina deleted her original video..screams guilty on her part

Wait so she’s the real cheater??

Y’all owe him and his new lady an apology.

He must have done something to piss her off, Regina is an angel

Ohhh fuck off for fucks sake.

I deleted my comments. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.

This man just defended his new chick like his life depended on it 😭🥹

I never believed her. Goodluck to you and y/n

People saying he hit on them at the gym..this guy literally threw me out for saying he was hot.. and i hate him for that but ya all making lies and ruining lives for fun

And just like that, the tide had turned. All because he spoke up, all of a sudden you had people sending long paragraphs and sweet messages in your inbox but you didn't want to open them or read them, none of that mattered, fickle opinions were just that. Fickles. Regina had deleted the video like a coward, she probably never expected that Eric would come forward to clear his name and yours.

You : Why are you so perfect?

You sent the message to him. Your finger hovered over the screen for a moment after hitting send, your heart pounding so loudly it felt like it echoed in the room.

He had stood up for you. Not just in passing, not just in private but in front of the whole world. Without hesitation. Without flinching. And you knew he wasn't the type of man to do that, he didn't post on social media until or unless it was about work, he probably didn't have to say anything, this could have backfired pretty easily but he did, not just to clear his name but yours too, mostly yours.

Eric : You think? :)

He responded, you could almost imagine him smiling at his phone.

You : I know ❤️

You responded immediately and you meant it. You weren’t just caught up in the moment, this wasn’t some honeymoon phase delusion. Something inside you knew him, even if it had only been barely two weeks since you’d crossed that line between pretend and real, you had known him longer than that.

Eric : See me after work?

You smiled as you read the message.

You : I'll be there..coffee?

You responded.

Eric : Mmm decaf..no sugar

Ofcourse.

You : Yes sir

Eric : that turns me on

Your jaw dropped at his response, then you laughed. Not loud, just a surprised hearty one.

You : oh sir ;) you might have some undiscovered kinks

Eric : Stop baby. I have a client to deal with in five minutes :)

Your heart skipped again at the word baby. He’d called you that before, but something about it in this context..soft, casual, like it was just second nature—melted something inside you.

You : okay okay..I gotta go get ready for work…see you at 5:30

Eric : See you

Luckily for you, apart from a few stares here and there, nobody came to your face or made fun of you for the scandal, Eric was right, it was just internet noise and sometimes that noise only echoed from behind a screen. Around 5:30 while you were at the coffee shop you called Chance to ask what kind of coffee he'd like to have if he wanted it, then you headed to the gym.

As you reached The Crow you sneakily passed the hundred dollar bill to Chance for the membership fee while Eric was busy with a client. He had asked you to not pay but it didn't seem right.

“Feeling okay now?” Chance asked so you smiled. Last night you slept with a rock on your chest especially after reading your mother's text but this morning and how Eric had been your support, you felt okay now. More than okay.

You winked at Eric as you passed him his coffee and then headed for his resting room, he was with a client and you didn't want to be inappropriate by hugging him or kissing him.

The next two days passed in a blur, Eric was a day away from the competition, you had taken a day off from work to be there for him throughout the day tomorrow.

“You're so dehydrated” you murmured as you kissed his slightly chapped lips softly. Your chin rested on his chest while you two cuddled on the couch in his room at the gym.

“I want a pizza tomorrow”

He mumbled between a chuckle.

“Mmm you deserve that pizza and a dessert” you bit on your lips as you pressed up and cupped his cheeks to kiss him. Sometimes you couldn't even believe how comfortable you felt around him. Jake never let you be this vulnerable with him, even when he did, he made fun of you for that.

His phone began to buzz in his pocket so you took it out of his trousers, your movement deliberately slow, made his cheeks flush.

Your fingers lingered a little too long in his pocket before pulling out his buzzing phone.

“You really enjoy torturing me, huh?” he murmured, a lazy smirk curling on his lips.

You grinned, pressing one last kiss to the edge of his jaw before handing the phone to him.

“I like watching you struggle” you teased, then rolled off his chest with a content sigh

His gaze lingered on you for a second longer than necessary before he finally checked the screen.

The smile dropped for a moment.

“Who is it?” you asked softly, noticing the shift in his mood.

“NPC Federation board” he said, sitting up a little straight.

His thumb hovered over the green button before he finally answered.

“Hello?”

You couldn’t hear the other side clearly, but the tone was formal.

“I… sorry, what do you mean by review?”

Your stomach tightened instinctively as you heard that. He seemed immediately stressed. You watched his jaw tighten as he nodded slowly, listening.

“No, it’s fine. I appreciate the heads-up” he said, his voice low “Yeah. I understand”

He ended the call, thumb lingering on the screen, then slowly placed the phone on the table in front of the couch.

You didn’t say anything right away, just reached for his hand. He let you take it.

“What happened?” You asked softly as you placed your chin on his shoulder. He suddenly got up, getting out of your hold “They're reviewing me” he said, his voice had that nervous edge that was rare.

“Because of the Regina thing? I thought that was cleared up-” you stood up so he shook his head, his eyes then teared up.

“Not that..it's not that” you gulped as he said that. You had a feeling where he was going with this.

“You're still allowed to compete right?”

“They'll let me know by tonight”

You nodded as he said that before you walked closer and hugged him tightly.

“They can't disqualify you” you said to comfort him, you noticed how his hold around you had tightened, he took a deep breath before he finally spoke.

“They can do that..i did something awful when I was seventeen”

He always knew that one day he’d have to tell you about his past, the crime he had committed but he never thought that day would come so soon. A good woman like you deserved someone equally good, someone clean, someone decent.

And he wasn’t.

No matter how well he played the part, deep down he knew what he really was and he also knew what he was capable of doing to another human being, that's what scared him the most, the cruelty he was capable of inflicting on someone when he snapped, the monster that he kept caged inside him at all times.

And now that you were going to find out about it, he wasn’t ready for you to look at him differently. He wasn’t ready for you to walk away from him.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Taglist @loushaw131460 @wiseyouthinfluencer @purplerainx1 @bloodykisserr @muchwita @mariaenchanted @a-differentbrandof-beans @kikibit @venuslayla23-blog @somedayimagines @sn0wybowie-blog

[thbbie]

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami who finally, after countless conversations, quits his soul-sucking job

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami who quickly adjusts to his new life but still keeps some of the habits the have cemented in him over the years

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami finally has the time to read the books he's been collecting over the years, sitting comfortably on your big leather couch with his glasses resting low on the bridge of his nose and his hair natural

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami likes to talk about the books he's read over dinner with you, but really, he loves to talk about anything with you. your day at work, the next bread recipe he wants to try, the couple you saw arguing on the train. nothing could ever bore him if it was coming from you

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami makes sure that he wakes up before you everyday to make you a good breakfast (and make sure you eat it) and to pack your lunch

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami comes back to the bedroom to find you still resting, he glances at the little clock on your bedside and sees that your alarm is set to go off in a few minutes

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami cancels it and lays on his front in between your legs. caressing them softly as he spreads them to slip you pj bottoms off

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami always makes sure your day starts with a good orgasm. his tongue working on you gently coaxing you into waking up

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami starts to feel you stirring awake so he slips two fingers into your drippy pussy and moves to hover over you. pressing sweet messy kisses all over your face. "good morning, my love"

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami doesn't speed up his fingers, he needs you to really feel this. he knows, better than anyone, how fast passed the rest of your day will be until you come back home to him.

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami who sends you out the door with a loving kiss to your lips and a sweet handwritten note in your lunch.

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami spends his time alone taking care of as much as he possibly can so that when you get home he could focus on you completely

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami dresses much more casual now, but still he never looks underdressed or any less put together, somehow making old band t shirts and ugly sweaters look like the most elegant thing

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami who never, never misses any of your work events. always showing up as the best dressed, not in the slightest because he cares for them or their opinion but because he never want you to think he's letting himself go or have you feel embarrassed of him (also because he likes the heart eyes you throw his was when he's all dressed up for you)

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami can feel the veins in his forehead when the both of you arrive and he's approached by some smug looking guy. you're snatched away by some colleagues to talk to some executives or clients or whoever . and the man that approached him extended hand introducing himself as your 'work husband'. now how crazy is that

pathetic as it maybe be ·˚ ༘ househusband nanami is still irked by him as he goes on and on about he good he is to you at work, "listen man, you've got nothing to worry about. when she's here i'm taking such good care of our wife. we make a good team taking care of our girl" he says it so casually; our wife. like it's the truest statement ever. who is our? team?? we?? girl?? what?

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami simply walks away from the conversation as the forgettable man blabs on, not dignifying any of nuisances words with a response or reaction — that would mean they meant something, and they do not. they meant absolutely nothing

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami who knows you've told him about the insufferable coworker but he would've never guessed his sweet wife would have to deal with something this bad

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami finds you wrapping a up what is now doubt an important conversation. he comes behind you one of his hands resting on your lower back, the touch is polite but meaningful. symbolic

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami is seething but remains composed, watching with fond eyes as you excuse him and yourself from the conversation politely. it's no wonder you're doing so well at work . his chest swell with pride that he even gets to know you, to love you.

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami who leads you into the elevator without a word, not saying anything until you reach your destination; the roof. you could tell he wasn't mad (at you at least) simply assuming that maybe he needed some air, overwhelmed by the event.

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami ever the gentlemen, leads you out into the open air, finally in the privacy of the roof, his lips come crashing into your own. reverent and needy, he's marking you, his woman. nanamis hands coming under your butt to carry you

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami who takes you right there, right then, right on the open air rooftop. strangely the night sky, dirty roof, and lights form busy traffic somehow seeming like the most romantic thing but nanami just has that effect

"theree's my girl. always so hard working aren't you darling? so hard working for me and yet you still have to deal with idiots left and right. there you dove let go for me."

"mhmhm that's a good girl, nice and loud for me beautiful, nothing to be embarrassed about. i'm just making my lovely hardworking wife feel good"

"hah~ so hmmm~ so tight for me always. so good for your husband aren't you, allll for me."

"mmhph~ god, you take such good care of sweet thing, such such good care of me. always spoiling like the darling that you are. i take good care of you too don't i? yea? better than anyone else? mmm~ mhmm~ how good baby, i need you to show me."

"that right, my filthy girl. take it, allll for you. just for you. no one could ever make such a clever thing a leaky whiney mess hmm. my genius little dummy.♡"

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami makes a mess of you, your clothing and hair disheveled, mascara smeared beneath your eyes and you're nodding along to everything he says "mhmhm ahhh~ all yours ken 'm hahh~ alll yours baby"

" g-good, so so good to me ken! you take the best ca-aghh~ f'me. the very best ken~ "

"no one else ken, j-just you. only you. alll f'you kenn~ ken im- im close."

"oh~ ken im~ mmmhm~ iloveyouiloveyouiloveyouilov-"

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami fucks you gently through your high and his own, his head no longer tucked in the curve of your neck but holding your gaze now. panting into each others mouths as reassuring words mumbled into your skin. he's slowing down from the rough fast pace that had your insides churning and your toes curling in your heels with every thrust. the speed of the switch giving you whiplash

"i love you too dove. so so much"

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami helps you fix up your disheveled appearance as best he can, kissing you gently as he does and helps you with the walk over to the elevator

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami is the one who politely excuses the two of you this time, your body slipped into his and your faced still flushed. when they ask he casually responds that you must've come down with something

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami who leads you out to the car, one of his arms never leaving your side, holding your body that rests against his firmer one for support

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami catches your so called 'work husband' watching as the two of you are leaving, a stunned expression on the man's face. does he not know that husband and wife have sex?

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami only takes that as confirmation that clearly, he was never qualified to even be considered or think of himself as a possibility of being your 'husband', work or otherwise (no one is)

·˚ ༘ househusband nanami meets his gaze as he leans down to kiss your hair but his stare is unmoving, a sharp glare formed from his pretty brown eyes; one that says, this is my wife. my woman. you could never dream of reaching her level or having the absolute privilege to be calling her your girl.

[yuwuta]

RODEO STATION, 1 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO 

A collection of you and Megumi, through the years, through Gojo’s eyes. 

content, warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, sort of canon-adjacent, satoru adopts megumi and tsumiki, reader has a cursed technique but it’s not mentioned in depth here, really just you and megumi falling in love and gojo watching

word count: 1.1k

part i: first years, jujutsu tech. fits in the timeline around when nobara first joins the class

When Satoru first finds him, Megumi has two conditions. First, that Tsumiki would be kept safe and happy, and far away from the Zenin clan if they weren’t going to be good to her—safe and far away from all jujutsu society if Gojo could help it; and that she would never have to worry about feeding herself or Megumi ever again. Satoru agreed right away, he would have done that without the request. 

For his second condition, an eight year old Megumi looked Satoru straight in the eye and told him that he would absolutely not be separated from you. Satoru thought it was cute, sweet, in the bratty, and naive but determined kind of way that seemed to be everything that kid stood for, and Satoru couldn’t fault him for it. Megumi’s evident childlike adoration of you aside, Satoru saw potential in you, too, so he accepted Megumi’s conditions, happy to welcome the two of you to the world of sorcery. 

It’s not until a week before you both start at Jujutsu Tech, that Satoru really asks Megumi why he wants you here (never mind the fact that you had already also made up your mind about being a sorcerer, and if there is anything that Satoru has learned about you in the past decade, it’s that: one, you have the magical ability to make Megumi do anything you say; and two, you’re incredible persuasive and very stubborn). Megumi doesn’t look him in the eye when he answers, fidgeting with his melting ice cream instead when he says, “Well, she saved my life.” 

Satoru doesn’t tease when he hears this, only digging his spoon in for a scoop of Megumi’s toffee butter, smiling to himself when the cold hits his tongue, because he’d heard the message loud and clear: Megumi believes he owes you his life, and to keep yours protected, he wants you by his side.

Satoru quickly learns that Megumi truly has his work cut out for him as he watches you burst through a top-floor window of a high-rise building, falling carelessly with the object of your mission—a special-grade cursed object—clutched in your grasp. Second later, there’s a loud explosion, as the ugly head of a large cursed falls limp in the hole in the broken glass that you’d left behind. Satoru chuckles when he sees you smile, and the faint cheer of weeeeeeeee as you fall. He knew you were wild and stubborn by the way you bossed Megumi around without a care, but seeing you in action proved that you were also in your own league of crazy, a fantastic sorceress in the making. 

To his left, Yuuji gapes wildly as he looks up, shielding his eyes with his hand, and then flinching back when Nobara bursts through the ground floor door, not without a nail going flying into the curse that had been chasing her. She looks angry, then wide eyed, then up to where Yuuji and Megumi were also staring and starts squealing alongside him. 

“Gojo-sensei, what are you standing there smiling about—do something!” Nobara shouts, pointing an accusatory finger up in the air at your flying body. 

Yuuji gasps again, like he’d just figured out the consequence of you falling from a building, spewing on his own cries, “Hey, seriously, what the hell are we doing—she can’t fly,” he shouts, turning to shake his sensei, then pausing, “Wait, Fushiguro, can she fly? You know her.” 

“Idiot,” Nobara spits, “If she could fly then she’d be flying, not falling.”

“Then why aren’t we doing any—you know what, I think I can catch her,” Yuuji boasts, rolling up his sleeves, prepared to position himself underneath your descending body, and that’s when Satoru steps in, extending an arm in front of his students. 

“You all worry too much,” he smiles, lifting his blindfold just enough to look the pair in the eye, and tilt his head up slightly, “Besides, Megumi’s handled it.” 

Three heads turn back up to the sky, where you’re no longer in freefall, instead have had your shoulders snatched by Nue’s talons. You’ve still got that wild smile on your face, wider now as you descend much more elegantly via Megumi’s shikigami. Nobara and Yuuji wince as Nue’s wings flap widely when you’re set on the ground. You shift the box with the cursed object to one hand, reaching your free one around to pet the bird’s feathers. It crows happily, and Satoru snickers, much to Megumi’s dismay. You always did treat his shikigami like pets. 

“Hey, you’re okay!” Yuuji cheers, eyes sparkling, “What’s in the box? A sword—actually, I don’t want to know. If it’s another finger, keep it away from me.” 

“Hand it here,” Nobara demands. You’re happy to hand over the box and have another hand available for petting Nue. 

Satoru watches fondly as Yuuji and Nobara fuss over the box. They should probably exercise more caution, but he’s there, so the worst can’t happen. Meanwhile, you step closer to Megumi with Nue fluttering behind you. 

“You’re the one who told me there would be no need to get involved,” Megumi says, voice soft, hands falling comfortably at his side. 

“I said that you wouldn’t have to get involved with the curses,” you correct, standing on your tiptoes to nuzzles your head into the bird’s feathers, “I said nothing about not getting involved with me.” 

Satoru does his best not to choke out a loud laugh as Megumi’s face becomes increasingly pink when you reach forward to pinch his cheeks, his grumbling drowned in the sound of Yuuji and Nobara’s bickering. Satory sighs, content. He cares for all his students, but there’s a certain weight lifted on his shoulders knowing that when it came to you, there was truly nothing to worry about—Megumi would always be there for you. Honestly, he thinks Megumi might fight him to protect you if it came down to it. 

That thought does bring an audible chuckle to his lips, Megumi’s pinched expression calling to him, “What are you laughing about?” 

To which Satoru only hums, sticking his hands in his pockets. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow deeper, but it’s quickly dissolved when you catch his attention again, saying your farewells to Nue before giving Megumi the okay to let him recede into his shadows. 

“Oh, nothing,” Satoru chirps, turning to lead the group back to Ichiji’s car, “Come on, who’s still up for revolving sushi!”  

Cheers follow him as the veil dispels. You question Yuuji about whether or not you think the restaurant will have grilled eel, and Nobara pretends to throw up, arguing that eel is the worst, that you all should stick to hand rolls instead. Megumi stays quiet, walking on your outside, and humming along with all of your suggestions, and Satoru can’t help but wonder whether or not you knew that Nue had been out from the moment you’d stepped in the building. 

Honestly, he thinks Megumi might win that fight—might win any fight if it meant being with you.

[ambivalence-is-me]

All I Want (One-Shot)

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: Do opposites really attract? Feyre didn’t think so but Y/N and Azriel prove her wrong.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: fluff

A/N: this is kinda from Feyre’s pov, beginning of ACOMF. I’m in love with the idea of someone from the outside looking at two people in love. I’m thinking of turning this into a series? Or just more one shots? Like write about the dates, the wedding, that stuff. Let me know if anyone would be interested to read it!

————————————————————-

Feyre was shocked. Well, lately it seemed that’s all she was: shocked with a side of skeptical and scared. How else was she supposed to feel after everything she’s been through? She’s thinking of the very first times Rhysand took her to the Night Court. It was during one of those ‘’visits’’ that she first met you.

‘’She’ll help you with anything you need’’ he had said and that you did.

Feyre had taken one look at you and didn’t really know what to think. Physically you didn’t look like a threat, you were beautiful (it seemed there weren’t ugly faes) and your posture was relaxed, like you weren’t standing in front of the Cursebreaker but just another fae. You were smiling kindly at her, no judgement in your eyes and then you started talking.

And you never really stopped.

You were a yapper. Answered all of Feyre’s questions as best as you could and more. You walked her through the court’s history, culture, customs, everything. On her second meeting with you, she had concluded you definitely weren’t a threat. Instead, you were easygoing, kind and just freaking…happy? It seemed like you were always shinning, that nothing can bring you down. Feyre had tested that after a particularly bad day when Rhysand was driving her up the wall. But instead of running away, you stayed and helped her, saving Rhys from another shoe-throwing incident.

You had this soft and gentle angle that reminded her of her sister Elain. But you weren’t quite as graceful as Elain. You were louder, clumsier and upbeat, not afraid to strike up a conversation with anyone about anything. And you definitely weren’t like her sister Nesta but she could tell you shared her observation skills.

Truthfully, for Feyre, you were a saving grace. Someone she could go to in this new world that was thrown at her. She never really expressed any of this of course, scared that if someone found out you’d be in harm's way but she kept you close to her whenever possible.

That’s why Feyre was extremely happy that you were accompanying her to a dinner with Rhysand’s family. Thanks to the information Feyre had gathered from you and meeting them beforehand briefly, she inferred that you obviously knew them but you never stated what was your relationship with them.

Which is why Feyre is now shocked to see the turn of events.

She had expected you to be close friends with them, how can you not? You were a social butterfly and if Rhysand’s family was anything like him, she was sure you had befriended all of them. And you had but not in the way Feyre had expected.

‘’Feyre darling, care to share why you look so shocked?’’ Rhysand asked her with that stupid smile of his. But she couldn’t even bother to answer him, not when she was still staring at the scene in front of her.

Again, Feyre had met these faes…briefly. She’d experience Mor’s welcoming energy, Cassian’s cheeky smiles and jokes, Amren’s silver bright eyes and of course…Azriel’s quiet and intimidating presence. The latter preferring to stay in his shadows and observe the chaos around him.

Which is why Feyre NEVER expected for him to be with…you.

Obviously Feyre didn’t know him, not at all, just what you and Rhysand had told her but she was confident that her observations of him helped her come up with an idea of him. It seemed that she was wrong.

They were all gathered in this beautiful grand room, just chatting and sipping on expensive wine before dinner. Cassian and Amren were in conversation in a corner of the room, the latter looking annoyed at whatever the big Illyrian was saying. You, Mor and Azriel occupied a big comfortable looking sofa. You and Mor leading the dialogue and Azriel, unsurprisingly, was just sitting there listening and assessing. But that’s not what had Feyre shocked. No, it was the fact that you were almost sitting on the Shadowsinger’s lap.

He had one whole arm wrapped around your waist, it screamed ‘’she’s mine’’. His other hand touching your hair softly, as if he put any more pressure on it, it would break. His eyes went back and forth between all of the faes in the room but stayed mostly on you. And Feyre didn’t know if he knew that he was smiling.

SMILING

A small soft smile that Feyre didn’t know the Shadowsinger was capable of. It made him look a thousand times more irresistible. A thought that didn’t go unnoticed by Rhys, who arched an eyebrow at her in return. But Feyre didn’t say anything, she opted to try and hide her surprise and continue on with the evening.

An evening that only continue to bamboozle her. At the dinner table, you were sitting infront of Feyre. Azriel on your left side, Cassian on your right. It was a pretty funny picture Feyre would love to paint. Your frame and sunshine aura in the middle of two big intimidating Illyrian soldiers. As she had expected, you were mostly leading the conversation during dinner. Cassian and Mor quickly keeping up with your jokes and laughter, Rhysand chimed in at times but seemed content to take it all in with a soft smile. But Feyre was observing Azriel and Azriel was observing you.

His eyes didn’t seem to wander off too much, seemingly staying on you throughout the night. He looked at you like you held the world in your hands. Honestly, Feyre had never seen anything like this up close. There were no doubts that this male was incredibly in love with you and honestly, Feyre didn’t even know how to react.

Feyre thought she loved Tamlin at one point but now, after witnessing how Azriel looked at you, just this one look, she was extremely in the wrong.

If you moved, Azriel moved. He was so attentive to your needs: refilling your drinks, serving you more food, he held your hand, brushed your hair away from your face; all of it without you having to ask once. At one point, you looked at him with a smile Feyre hadn’t seen from you before and kissed his temple. An act so simple and yet so intimate that Feyre had to look away. Small tears graced the corner of her eyes, her chest felt so…whole?

She was in a room full of so much love that it was overwhelming her. This isn’t what she expected at all.

You seemed to notice that something was wrong with Feyre. Asking her with your eyes what was wrong. But she didn’t say anything, just gave her a look that you hoped would understand that said ‘’we’ll talk later’’. And later you did.

‘’You’re with Azriel?!’’ She had all but exploded the next day when it was just the two of you.

You smiled and said ‘’Yes’’ like it was a fact so obvious that Feyre should’ve have known. But it only confused her more.

‘’But-you-you’re so…’’

‘’Different?’’ You finished. The same smile still on your face. Feyre could only nod.

This wasn’t the first time someone had questioned your relationship with Azriel. To be fair, you were the very first one to question it back when you started courting a couple of hundred years ago. Because the truth was that you and him truly were opposites. You, an extrovert and him obviously an introvert.

But it was your differences that somehow made it work, that completed each other. At the beginning it had taken time. You never seemed to stop talking and you worried that it was only annoying Azriel. But you never did, at least, he insists that you don’t. But you’ve learned to know his little quirks and expressions. You’ve learned when to stop your yapping around him, particularly only for few moments after he’s had a bad day. You’ve learned his ways, and he learned yours.

He learned to interpret the moments when you kept a conversation going because you wanted to and not because you felt like you HAD to. He learned how to ground you back and remind you that your job wasn’t to make everyone’s day brighter. He learned to take care of you, and you took care of him.

You explained all of this to Feyre, a soft smile never leaving your face when you talked about your Shadowsinger and Feyre couldn’t help but smile back.

‘’In the human world, we- ‘’..She cleared her throat. ‘’When people love each other, they get married but here that seems so…miniscule. Like, marriage isn’t enough for the love you and Azriel have.’’

It was the best thing Feyre could say because really, she didn’t know how else to compare the love you and Azriel seemed to have.

You beamed at that. ‘’I thought the same actually but our wedding day was one of the best days of my life. Right after our mating ceremony.’’

Feyre looked confused. Mating ceremony? But you only kept smiling.

‘’ We’d already been married for a hundred years when the bond snapped. Mating bonds are so special and rare, Feyre’’ You looked at her.

‘’I was already blessed to have found a male that loved me and all of my loudness. And then, to be gifted a mating bond with him?’’ You shook your head as if you still couldn’t believe it.

In truth, even many years later, you still couldn’t. And that was all Azriel. He made you feel so incredibly happy and whole. He still made you feel like a fool, as if you’re a female who’s experiencing falling in love for the first time. And perhaps that’s why the shock Feyre had felt still hadn’t left. Because she couldn’t comprehend how you and Azriel made it look like it was just yesterday that you got together. Like you were still in the honeymoon phase.

Feyre had seen married couples in her village. They fought and yelled at each other frequently, almost never held hands and especially didn’t show public display of affection. But what you and Azriel had didn’t look like that AT ALL.

Later, after you had left saying ‘’Azriel said he had a surprise but I’m pretty sure I know what it is. I don’t care what his job description is, I can find out what he’s planning!’’, Feyre was still processing your love story.

It didn’t seem real. It didn’t seem real that two people/fae could love each other so much, who would do absolutely freaking anything, including die, for each other. After her experience with Tamlin, Feyre wasn’t sure if she’d ever have what you and Azriel have. Deep down inside, she wanted it. She felt like she didn’t deserve it, specially after what she’s done but…she hoped that maybe one day, however far it may be, she would have someone who would look at her like Azriel looks at you.

[theonottsbxtch]

TEEN IDLE | MV1

an: god this idea came to me while listening to teen idle by marina and lowkey kinda liked where i ended it, so i hope you enjoy it just as much and i won't write a pt 2 to this- unfortunalety for me my beloved friend hasn't proof read this one so apologies

wc: 2.8k

MAX VERSTAPPEN WAS RAISED FOR THIS. Before he could walk, he was sat in a go-kart; before he could read, he knew the weight of a steering wheel in his hands. His father made sure of that. Other kids had footballs, bicycles, summer holidays. He had telemetry sheets and tyre wear reports.

He was bred to be a champion, and so he became one.

By twenty-eight, Max had won everything there was to win. Multiple titles, records shattered, his name etched into the sport’s history books. And yet, looking back, it all felt like one long, unbroken blur—an endless series of podiums, press conferences, mechanics’ murmurs, and the relentless pressure of being the golden boy.

He could barely remember what it was like to be young, not properly. There were flashes, though. The sharp, acrid scent of petrol in the garage. The weight of his father’s expectations pressing down on him like a vice. The way his stomach had twisted before every junior race, knowing that second place was never good enough.

And then there were the times he could barely remember. That he should remember.

He had been seventeen, teetering on the edge of adulthood but feeling nothing like a man. She had been older—how much older, he wasn’t sure anymore, but old enough for it to feel like something forbidden. He’d told himself it was what he wanted, that he needed to do it. To feel something, to prove something.

Afterwards, he had stared at the ceiling, waiting for some grand revelation, some fundamental shift inside him. It never came.

He didn’t feel like more of a man.

And now, sitting in his driver room in another city, another race weekend, another meaningless milestone approaching, he wonders if anything ever really has.

He saw himself in the mirror across the room, still in his race suit, half unzipped, the fireproofs underneath clinging to his skin. His hair was damp, sticking to his forehead. He looked older than he remembered. Maybe it was the lighting. Maybe it was the exhaustion.

Maybe it was just the truth.

His phone vibrated on the bedside table. Another message he wouldn’t answer. He knew what it would say. Some journalist fishing for a quote. Someone from the team reminding him about media duties. A half-hearted invitation to drinks he had no interest in.

He ignored it.

Instead, he let himself sink back into the mattress, staring at the ceiling, replaying it all again. The wasted years. The wasted youth. The pretty lies, the ugly truth.

He had once thought that if he just won enough, if he proved himself enough, it would all start to mean something. That the hollow feeling would go away. But it never had.

He remembered being ten years old, crying in the back of his father’s car after a race he should have won. The slap, sharp and stinging. If you want to be the best, you can’t be weak.

He remembered being fifteen, standing on the top step of the podium, trophy in his hands, cameras flashing. His father’s arm around his shoulder, grip just a little too tight. See? This is what you were made for.

He remembered being seventeen, sheets tangled around his legs, a woman whose name he barely knew tracing her fingers down his chest. Was that what you wanted?

He hadn’t known what to say then. He still didn’t.

His driver room was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioning, the city lights seeping through the gap in the curtains. He had spent years surrounded by noise—engines screaming, crowds chanting, his father’s voice drilling into his skull—and yet, in the quiet, he still heard it all.

He exhaled, long and slow, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. It was easier not to think. Easier to let the days blur together, one podium, one interview, one flight after another.

But some nights—like this one—he couldn’t help but wonder if he had ever really been alive at all.

He stayed there for a while, sprawled across the bed, staring at the ceiling as if it might give him some sort of answer. It never did. The room felt too still, too clinical, the kind of place designed for fleeting stays and nothing more. He had lived in hotels and motorhomes for most of his life, but none of them had ever felt like home.

Eventually, he forced himself to move. Peeling off his fireproofs, he let them drop to the floor, stepping over them as he made his way to the tiny en-suite. The mirror above the sink reflected someone he barely recognised. Shadows clung beneath his eyes, and a faint red mark on his forehead from his balaclava made him look even more exhausted than he felt.

He turned the tap on, splashing cold water onto his face, then braced his hands against the sink, head hanging low. He needed to get out.

Throwing on a plain t-shirt and an old hoodie, he grabbed a cap from the side table and pulled it low over his eyes. It was enough to make him anonymous—just another man slipping into the night, nothing special.

The paddock had mostly emptied by now, a few lingering mechanics finishing up for the evening, murmured conversations carrying through the cool air. He walked with purpose, shoulders hunched, hands stuffed into his pockets. No one stopped him. No one even looked twice.

By the time he reached the edge of town, he found what he was looking for. A pub, run-down but still open, the glow of neon signs flickering in the window. It wasn’t the kind of place anyone from the paddock would go, which was exactly why he chose it.

Inside, the air was thick with the smell of stale beer and cheap cologne, a low hum of conversation and the occasional scrape of a chair against the floor. A few old blokes sat hunched over their pints, barely sparing him a glance as he made his way to the bar.

“Can I help?” the bartender asked, barely looking up as he wiped down the counter.

“Whisky,” he said, voice hoarse from a day of interviews and radio calls. “Neat.”

The glass clinked against the wood a few moments later. He took it without a word, moving to a quiet corner, away from the dim overhead lights.

He took a sip. It burned on the way down, but at least it made him feel something.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, nursing the drink, letting the noise of the bar blur around him. Long enough for the ice to melt, for the world outside to fade into nothing.

For the first time in a while, he felt like nobody. And somehow, that was a relief.

The whisky went down too easily. He swirled the last of it in his glass, watching the way the light caught the amber liquid, then tipped it back, letting it burn its way down. He wasn’t drunk, not yet, but the edges of everything felt softer. Less sharp. Less real.

He was about to signal the bartender for another when she appeared. She slid into the seat opposite him without hesitation, eyes flicking towards the entrance before settling on him.

He barely had time to register her presence before a man followed, taller, broader, the kind of bloke who walked like he owned the room. The girl didn’t look at him, just leaned forward, resting her arms on the table as she spoke.

“See, I told you my boyfriend was waiting for me.”

Max didn’t move. Didn’t react. But he caught the way her fingers curled slightly, gripping the edge of the table just a little too tight. The man hovered for a second too long, gaze shifting between them, then exhaled sharply through his nose.

“Right,” he muttered, before turning and stalking back towards the bar.

She waited until he was gone before she relaxed, shoulders dropping ever so slightly. Then she looked at Max properly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Thanks for that,” she said, not sounding particularly sorry.

He didn’t respond, just pushed his empty glass aside, already regretting getting involved in whatever this was. But she didn’t seem bothered by his silence. She tilted her head, eyeing the glass, then raised a brow at him.

“What are you drinking?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, shifting slightly in his seat. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk, least of all with a stranger who had just used him as an excuse to shake off some bloke she clearly had no interest in.

But she ignored him, her eyes flicking to the last few amber drops in his glass before he could move it out of sight.

“Whisky,” she said, like she had figured him out. Then, before he could protest, she got up and strode towards the bar.

He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. He should leave. Finish the last drops, disappear into the night, let her deal with whatever mess she was in on her own.

But when she returned, setting a fresh glass down in front of him with a quiet clink, he didn’t move.

“Cheers, boyfriend,” she teased, raising her own glass.

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head slightly, but picked up the drink anyway.

For now, he stayed.

She took a sip of her drink, watching him over the rim of her glass. He could feel her curiosity, the way she was studying him, trying to fit him into a story in her head.

“So,” she said eventually, setting her glass down, “do I get to know my fake boyfriend’s name?”

He hesitated. It was a simple enough question, but it felt like a trap. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the whisky. Maybe it was the way she had just waltzed into his night without permission, without expectation. But before he could stop himself, he said, “Emilian.”

It was his middle name. He didn’t know why he hadn’t said Max, that was far more common that Emilian.

She raised an eyebrow. “Emilian, huh?”

He nodded once, taking a slow sip of his drink to avoid looking at her properly.

She didn’t question it. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, tilting her head slightly. “Alright, Emilian. What are you out drinking for?”

He considered lying again. Saying something easy, something normal. But the truth slipped out before he could think of anything else.

“I’m tired,” he said simply. “Needed a break from work.”

Her expression shifted slightly—not quite pity, but understanding. “Bad day?”

“Long day,” he corrected. “Long… few years, actually.”

That made her huff a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I know that feeling.” She took another sip, then rested her chin on her hand. “What do you do?”

He should have said something vague. Something non-committal. But the whisky was settling in now, loosening the grip on his thoughts, and the lie came out before he even knew why he was telling it.

“I’m a mechanic.”

It felt strange, saying it. Unfamiliar, but safe.

She hummed, tilting her head. “Huh. Thought you might be something like that.”

He frowned slightly. “Why?”

She shrugged. “Dunno. Just got the vibe.” Then she smirked. “Or maybe I saw the oil stains under your nails.”

His pulse jumped for a second before he realised she was joking. His hands were clean—too clean, probably, for someone who supposedly worked in garages all day—but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Must be a stressful job, if it’s got you drinking alone,” she added, watching him over her glass again.

He exhaled, glancing down at the whisky in his hand. “Yeah,” he said, and for the first time that night, it wasn’t a lie.

He rolled his glass between his fingers, watching the whisky catch the dim light. Then, without really thinking, he asked, “What about you? Why are you out this late?”

She exhaled through her nose, tipping her head back slightly. “Was walking home from a wake,” she said, matter-of-fact. “Then that bloke started following me, so I figured I’d use you.”

There was no shame in it, no hesitation. Just a casual admittance, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She took another sip of her drink, then smirked slightly. “There’s always some sad sod drinking alone somewhere.”

He let out a small laugh at that—barely more than a huff of breath, but it surprised him nonetheless.

“Lucky me, then,” he muttered, shaking his head.

She raised her glass slightly in mock toast.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The bar buzzed around them, low conversations, clinking glasses, the occasional burst of laughter from a table near the back.

Then he asked, “Who died?”

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t shift uncomfortably or drop her gaze.

“My dad.”

He blinked. “Shit.”

She shrugged, swirling the last of her drink.

“Sorry,” he said automatically, but even as the words left his mouth, he was already wondering—how would he feel if his dad died?

Would it be relief? Would it be grief? Would it be anything at all?

She must have seen something in his face because she let out a dry laugh. “Don’t apologise,” she said, tipping her glass towards him before downing the rest of it in one go. “He was a right old cunt.”

That made him snort before he could stop himself. He coughed, shaking his head as he took a sip of his own drink. “Christ.”

She grinned. “I mean, it’s true. Everyone was there, saying all this bollocks about what a great man he was, and I was just sat there thinking, what a load of shite.”

Max watched her, the way she spoke so bluntly, so freely. He tried to imagine standing at his own father’s funeral, people saying things about what a hard man he’d been, how much he’d sacrificed for his son, how proud he would have been.

He wasn’t sure he’d believe a word of it.

She leaned forward slightly, eyeing him. “Bet you weren’t expecting that answer.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “No. Can’t say I was.”

She smirked. “Well, you don’t look like the type to have a good relationship with your dad either, so…”

His grip tightened on his glass for half a second before he forced himself to relax. He didn’t reply.

She didn’t press.

Instead, she raised her empty glass, tilting it towards him. “Another?”

He should have said no. Should have left while he still had the sense to.

But he didn’t.

“Yeah,” he said, finishing the last of his whisky. “Go on, then.”

And just like that, he let himself sink a little further into the night.

The air was crisp as they walked, the quiet hum of the city settling around them. The streets weren’t quite empty—there were still a few late-night stragglers, people spilling out of pubs, voices carrying in the cool night—but it was calmer now, the chaos of earlier fading into something softer.

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket, tilting her head back slightly as she walked. “Where you staying, then?”

“One of the hotels by the track,” he said, not thinking much of it.

She let out a low whistle. “Bet that’s a nightmare with the F1 on. Must be packed. Loud as hell.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah. Something like that.”

She hadn’t connected the dots. Maybe it was the drinks, or maybe she just didn’t follow motorsport enough to care. Either way, he didn’t correct her.

They kept walking, neither of them in much of a rush to get anywhere. Her bus stop wasn’t far, but she didn’t break pace, didn’t cut the night short. Neither did he.

It was nice, in a way, walking with someone without expectation. Without small talk that felt forced or questions that felt intrusive. Just two strangers, filling the quiet.

Eventually, the bus stop came into view. She slowed, glancing up at the electronic sign before rocking back on her heels slightly.

“Well,” she said, turning to him, “this is me.”

He nodded. “Right.”

She looked at him for a moment, like she was considering something, then just smiled. “Thanks for the drink, Emilian.”

He let out a small breath of laughter. “Yeah. No worries.”

The bus pulled up, doors hissing open, but she didn’t move straight away. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, eyes scanning his face like she was trying to work something out. Then, without another word, she stepped onto the bus.

He didn’t ask for her number. She didn’t offer.

The doors shut, and he stood there for a moment, watching the bus pull away.

Then he turned and started walking back towards his hotel.

The night was still. The world felt quieter.

And for the first time in a long while, so did he.

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow @isaadore

[jijournal]

JUST PRETEND | D.M

Summary: To get his parents off his back, Draco begs you to pretend to be his date for a gala. He swears it's just for a night, but by the end, he's wishing it wasn't.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None! Just pure fluff! ravenclaw!reader x draco malfoy

A/N: I love this, so I hope you guys love this too! 🫰

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

"Love!"

You groan, already knowing who that voice belongs to. The same voice that's been haunting your sanity for the past week.

You spin around, exasperated. “What now, Draco?”

“Come to the ga—” he starts, but you cut him off by pressing a finger to your lips.

“I’ve told you a million times, Draco. No.”

Lowering your hand, you turn on my heel and start walking away.

“C’mon, love. Please,” he calls out, jogging to catch up with you.

Draco Malfoy—Mr. Perfect Pureblood—was actually begging. Again. He wanted you to be his date to the annual Malfoy-hosted Pureblood gala. And of course, as always, no blood traitors allowed.

They didn’t know that your family was full of them. Didn’t know that you wore masks just to survive. Pretending to align with You-Know-Who just to keep your heads down and your status clean.

In a twisted way, it was easier being a Ravenclaw than a Gryffindor like the Weasleys. Sure, some Slytherins still looked down on you, but at least Ravenclaws were considered useful. Strategic. Worth tolerating.

You sigh, slowing your pace. “Why don’t you take Pansy? She’s in Slytherin. Your parents would—”

“But I don’t want her,” Draco cuts in sharply, eyes locking with yours. “I want you.”

Your eyes widen.

His eyes widen more.

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

“I mean—er—you know—it’s not like I want you or anything,” he stammers, clearing his throat and awkwardly running a hand through his hair. “I just think you’re a… better choice. Better than Parkinson, anyway.”

Wow. A choice. How flattering.

You raised an unimpressed brow, folding your arms across your chest. “Wow. So generous of you to pick me over your clingy little leech.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “She’s not—ugh, never mind. Look, I just need someone… tolerable. Someone who won't make me want to jump off the Astronomy Tower halfway through the night.”

“How romantic,” you deadpanned.

Draco rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “Please, just this once. One night. You show up, we act disgustingly cute for the press, my mother thinks I’m finally behaving like a proper pureblood son, and then you get to go back to your tragic little book club or whatever it is Ravenclaws do for fun.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You're really bad at this whole ‘convincing someone to help you’ thing.”

“And yet, here you are—still listening.”

You hated that he was right. He was insufferable, arrogant, and had the emotional depth of a teaspoon most days, but Merlin help you, you found yourself softening at the sight of him all flustered and begging.

“All right, fine.” you muttered.

His eyes lit up like he’d just been handed the key to Gringotts. “Really!? You're serious?"

You rolled your eyes and turned to walk away. “Don’t make me regret this, Malfoy.”

“No promises,” he called after you, a smug smirk already returning to his face. “But I’ll have a dress robe ordered for you. Emerald green—it’ll bring out your eyes.”

You paused, just for a second, heart skipping a traitorous beat. But you didn’t let him see that. Not yet.

“Better not be ugly,” you shot back over your shoulder.

Draco chuckled, watching you walk away. “She said yes,” he whispered to himself with a triumphant grin. “She actually said yes.”

What neither of you knew was that one night was never going to be just one night.

⸻

The Malfoy estate was exactly what you'd expect: grand, cold, and intimidating enough to make even the most confident witch rethink her self-worth. You stood at the entrance, fingers twitching at your sides as your eyes swept across the glittering marble floors, the floating candelabras, and the polished guests draped in silk and smugness.

The ballroom was enormous—vaulted ceilings dripping with enchanted crystal chandeliers, casting soft golden light over the crowd. Velvet drapes in rich green and black pooled on either side of towering windows.

It was beautiful. It was suffocating.

You clutched the edge of your gown, suddenly hyper-aware of every breath. Every stare. The weight of your name, your family’s secrets, and the lie you wore like perfume.

But then—you saw him.

Draco stood near the grand staircase, locked in conversation with a Ministry official in plum-colored robes. His hair was slicked back neatly, and he wore deep green dress robes that made him look older. Sharper. Like he belonged here—born into this world of polished silver and cutting glances.

But his eyes weren’t on the official. They were flicking toward the door. Restless. Searching.

And then they found you.

He stopped mid-sentence. Literally. His mouth parted, words caught somewhere between his tongue and throat as he stared. Like the sight of you had knocked the wind from his lungs.

You met his gaze with a slow, knowing smirk. “You gonna keep staring or offer me your arm, Malfoy?”

“You—Merlin, you clean up…” He looked you up and down, eyes lingering just a little too long on the way the emerald green gown hugged your figure, the way it shimmered beneath the chandeliers. “Well.”

You arched a brow. “That sounded dangerously close to a compliment.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he muttered, ears tinged pink. He held out his arm, and you slid your hand into the crook of his elbow.

You tried to ignore the way your heart pounded. The way he smelled like something warm and expensive—cologne and faint ash, like he’d just stepped out of a fireplace.

As the two of you entered, the ballroom seemed to ripple around you. Heads turned. Conversations quieted. Every eye in the room was drawn to the Slytherin prince and his unexpected date.

Whispers followed you like smoke.

“Is that—?” “Draco’s date?” “She’s not even a Slytherin…” "How can he choose someone like her?"

And yet, none of them mattered. Not with Draco beside you, standing tall, head high, like he dared anyone to challenge his choice.

“Draco,” a familiar cool voice purred as his parents approached, their presence chilling and elegant. “And who is this lovely… surprise?”

Narcissa Malfoy wore frost like a second skin. Her gown was icy blue, her diamonds sharp. Beside her, Lucius looked every inch the power-hungry aristocrat, his cane gleaming in one hand.

You smiled politely. Controlled. “His date,” you said simply. “Thank you for having me.”

Narcissa’s eyes scanned you like a predator—calculating, cold. Lucius said nothing, but his lip curled ever so slightly. And yet, after a beat, she smiled.

“Tasteful,” she said finally. “Unexpected. But tasteful.”

“Mother,” Draco cut in quickly, his tone flat but respectful. “We’ll catch up later.”

With a graceful nod, Narcissa turned. Lucius followed, silent as a shadow.

You let out a quiet breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

“Well done,” Draco murmured as you walked further into the ballroom. “They didn’t stab you with their eyes. That’s a win.”

You smirked. “Is that what this night is going to be? Surviving Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy?”

Draco chuckled low. “That’s part one. Part two is convincing everyone else I’m wildly in love with you.”

You turned to look at him, sharp. “Think you can pull that off?”

But something in his gaze had shifted. There was no smirk this time. Just a softness. A quiet intensity that curled low in your stomach.

“I think I already am,” he said softly.

It landed between you like a dropped glass. You blinked, heart stumbling.

Before you could say anything, a warm voice echoed through the hall:

“The dance floor is now open.”

Draco didn’t hesitate. He turned, extended his hand with a slight bow, that signature Malfoy smirk reappearing—only now it was laced with something warmer. “Shall we, darling?”

You took his hand, unsure if your fingers were trembling from nerves or something else entirely.

As he led you into the center of the floor, the crowd parted like silk. His hand slid around your waist, fingers brushing the exposed skin at your back, and your breath hitched. The music swelled—slow, deliberate, romantic—and the two of you began to move.

It wasn’t the stiff, practiced steps you expected from him. No. Draco held you like he meant it. Like you weren’t just some Ravenclaw in a pretty dress. Like he saw you.

Your skirts twirled softly around your ankles as he spun you, and laughter bubbled up—genuine, light, disarming.

“You’re not completely terrible at this,” you murmured, voice low.

“Don’t ruin the moment,” he teased, smirking again. “I’m trying to make all these pureblood snobs die of jealousy.”

You leaned in closer. “It’s working.”

The world fell away—faded music, fading whispers, fading walls. There was only the feel of his hand against your back, the way he was looking at you like you were the only thing in the room.

And somewhere between one step and the next…

You stopped pretending.

And Draco?

He’d stopped long before that.

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

masterlist!

[racew1nn3rs]

─ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘪𝘪. (𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳) ⛵️

⤷ summary: miami and monaco. just lando being horribly down bad and y/n being at her wits end. poor oscar just can't escape the train wreck that is two losers with feelings and zero (0) emotional competency .

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liked by landonorris, ynusername, and 45,790 others

tagged oscarpiastri and landonorris

mclaren sorry to report that the only good thing about miami was the weather! (and the celebrities)

17,492 comments

user1 it's okay admin, you can say the car was shit

mclaren yeah the car was shit

user2 mclaren team is cursed i fear

mclaren alr where my witch baddies at? please unhex us pls pls pls

user3 uhm!!!????

mclaren desperate times desperate measures and all that jazz

user4 normal people: oh no the car is bad. yn: we're cursed for generations to come ☹️

landonorris i didn't get to meet shakira, what's the point of going on living

mclaren there is none! kys

landonorris oh wow

user5 nahhhh she gettin fired 💀

user6 not a single photo with lando's face 😭

user7 boohoo ☺️ OSCAR FANS, THEY BROKE BUT WE UP ‼️‼️‼️

user6 ok enough

landonorris post me challenge (difficult)

mclaren uh no (: go talk to hr bro we do not careeeeeee

user8 this beef is crazy, yall havent made up yet

user9 DOES ANYONE EVEN KNOW WHY THEYRE BEEFING 😭

oscarpiastri yeah

mclaren hey oscar! great race

oscarpiastri don't ever lie to my face like that again

maxfewtrell gonna build the car myself at this point

user10 i see a podium in our future everyone say thank you max

user11 y/n livestream when 😔

ynusername (;

user11 WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

user12 lando and admin flirting again, who could've guessed

user13 ... she told him to kill himself

user14 the enemies to lovers is enemying 🤩

user13 yeah, it's giving enemies to lovers but no lovers only murder

mclaren truth.

user12 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HWRE

user15 mclaren, fire everyone and hire y/n as the engineer/ strategist/ driver/ pit crew/ pr

mclaren we winning 🥱

oscarpiastri you'd be the only one finishing cause everyone else would die ☝🏻

mclaren shut the fuck up oscar 🙄

user16 flying cars they said 😔

mclaren how the mighty have fallen

user17 WE THE BEST TEAM ON THE GRIDDDD YUHHH

mclaren i'm gonna hold your hand while i say this

user18 it's been 20 years since i've seen my husband 😞 (admin won't post pictures of lando anymore)

mclaren your husband is ugly as fuck

landonorris what the fuck!

mclaren get off your phone loser

user19 full oscar picture when (i'mbeg ging you please i needg it nowe)

mclaren BAD DOG DOWN OMFG

lilyzneimer i would argue you were the best part of miami

mclaren YOU ARE SO FINE YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH BEAUTIFUL GIRL 🤭

oscarpiastri GET AWAY FROM HER YOU FREAK 🤺

user20 y/n being unprofessional on the team page, who's shocked

mclaren and the world kept spinning

user21 we all know who was really shit here (looking at you lando)

mclaren it's not funny when you do it.

landonorris when she defends you 🥴

mclaren i'm telling a trusted adult danielricciardo

danielricciardo what the fuck makes you think i can be trusted

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would you like to join? yes or no

now loading...

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The image flickered onto the screen as the broadcast began. Lando, clothed comfortably in sweats, a cap, and his streaming headphones, looked briefly off camera to where his guests sat waiting to be introduced.

He glanced up at Streamlabs and was shocked to see he had upwards of 30,000 viewers. He had only just started the stream and many people had likely not even gotten the Twitch notification yet. He shook off his shock and plastered on his usual smirk.

Everything is fine. I am totally and completely fine.

"Welcome, welcome. How are you all doing today? There's a lot of people here already. What's the special occasion guys?" He joked, being met with a scoff from the girl to his left.

Everything is not fine at all.

Lando almost never felt nervous when he would stream. After all, he was just playing game with his friends, the chat comments streaming through at a speed he could barely read. Even then, being in Formula One for so long meant he was used to being watched, his every little move being observed nearly constantly since his debut in 2019.

And yet all it took was her presence and suddenly he was nervous. His palms were sweaty, his heart was beating at a mile a minute- honestly you would think he were racing. How could he be expected to be funny and charming when she was here. She never seemed to struggle much in the department. It was almost entirely natural for her. Being perfect was like breathing air to Y/n he suspected.

As he watched the chat messages stream past even quicker on his monitor, he finally caught Oscar's gaze out of the corner of his eye. The younger man quirked a brow at him. What's your problem? His teammate seemed to say. He ignored him. Stupid Oscar and his stupid opinions and his stupid, uncomplicated love life. Lando envied the Australian most days, but now he just wanted to punch him straight in the jaw.

"Alright, it seems like most people are here already, so I'll just get started. I'm sure you're all wondering who my special guests are. The suspense must be killing you surely," He teased his audience. He ignored the completely accurate guesses in his chat.

Was he so predictable that it could be assumed it was either his teammate, Y/n, or Max were his special guests? Or was this a more unfortunate warning sign that he was just plain old boring.

"Seems like most people in chat were smart enough to figure it out! Please give a warm welcome to my guests! The lovely, stunning, awe-inspiring Y/n!" He cheered as the girl groaned, rolling her chair forward so she was behind him and within the frame of the camera.

"Oh and also Oscar's here," Lando added boredly, voice almost entirely monotone. Oscar scoffed loudly and he shot into frame kicking Lando's chair roughly, almost knocking him over and startling a laugh out of the girl behind them.

"Your an asshole mate," Oscar scoffed. Lando didn't hear him. The melodic laughing in his ear from Y/n was quite frankly the only sound his brain could process.

Who knew a laugh could sound so beautiful.

Who knew I could be so god damn embarrassing, Lando thought miserably.

"Guys do you see what I have to put up with!? How I get any shit done around here is a wonder," Y/n scoffed, "Anyways, welcome everybody, this is my stream now." Lando squawked indignantly.

"Excuse you, your in my home!"

"Yeah, unfortunately," she muttered with an eye roll and Oscar laughed.

"You should be grateful! Although these aren't the circumstances I was hoping to have you here under for the first time," Lando said with a completely unsubtle wink.

Y/n grimaced and Oscar doubled over with the force of his laughter.

"Viewers I am so sorry, please leave now, I have no way to muzzle him and apparently I can't sensor him," Y/n scowled.

"I fear he might enjoy that," Oscar muttered with a shake of his head.

Oh you motherfucker, Lando thought. Talk about subtle.

"If it was you, I probably would," Lando said to the girl and she planted her palm into the center of his face and shoved him lightly.

"Oh gross, cooties or STDs or whatever it is you men carry," Y/n shook her hands off and fake gagged.

"EXCUSE ME!" Lando shouted as Oscar nearly fell out of his chair.

"You're excused!"

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Y/n was holding on to her sanity by a thread. Or whatever was smaller than a thread... a hair or something. They had been answering fan questions for nearly 15 minutes already and Lando had decided today would be the day he would do nothing but flirt with her incessantly. He was like a child with a question or dog with a bone; He wouldn't let it the fuck go.

The sound of text-to-speech beginning dragged Y/n out of her thought spiral.

"Lando, what is your favorite video you've ever filmed?" The question asked.

Oh brother, Y/n thought. She looked at Oscar and he only laughed. How helpful.

"Probably the water TikTok challenge," Oscar hummed in agreeance.

"Why?" Y/n asked in confusion. She realized belatedly that asking Lando anything right now was probably a bad idea. She had set herself up this time.

"I don't know, I'm just a personal fan of anything that involves your hands in my hair," He smirked and she rolled her eyes. Her stomach flipped as she looked at his eyes. How could such a stupid, stupid man have such nice eyes (and lips, and teeth, and-).

"Well that's interesting," She smirked back, leaning her body toward him, ignoring the way she was blushing down to her chest. Her ears felt hot. It was hard to focus when she felt like she was burning alive, an unfortunate side effect that seemed to come with the irritating Brit in front of her.

"That was my favorite too," she added and Lando's eyes widened. Oscar looked at her in confusion over Lando's head.

"Really?" Lando asked, suprise clear in his voice. His smirk fell away for only a moment, but it was long enough for Y/n to notice.

Poor little Lando Norris, she thought. A bit too easy to read, this one.

"Yep," she grinned, before letting her face fall. "I'm a big fan of anything that means I can drown you." She responded in a monotone voice. Oscar cackled. The poor guy had hardly been asked any questions. Y/n found she didn't feel too bad anyway. The asshole was enjoying her suffering far too much.

Y/n knew the chat was going wild at their interactions, but she didn't really find herself caring. Maybe this was a bad look from a PR stand point, but then again didn't they always say "any press is good press."

Y/n wondered if the idiots who said that had ever had an inappropriate attraction to their asshole of a coworker, who just so happened to be public figure with fans who were becoming more aware of the tension with every day that interacted.

Probably fucking not.

Y/n watched as Lando's faux upset face cracked into a smile as he began to laugh heartily. She couldn't help but smile. Y/n was finding it hard to hold onto whatever grudge she had before. Maybe Lando Norris and his perfect smile, and his stupid jokes and his charming attitude weren't all that bad. Maybe, just maybe.

But they had absolutely no affect on her. None at all.

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liked by maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, and 38,924 others

tagged landonorris

ynusername monaco post-gp (help me this guy is stalking me i can't get rid of him help hel

11,209 comments

user22 damn he took out my girl mid-sentence 😔

user23 Y/N POSTED LANDO?? AM I DREAMING?? AM I HAVING A STROKE??? OH GOD AM I DEAD

user24 girl calm the fuck down

user25 DOES THIS MEAN THE BEEF IS OVER

ynusername yes! (he has a gun to my head)

user26 LANY/N SHIPPERS WE RISE ONCE MORE

user27 get it together, they've posted together ONCE

user28 is lany/n in the room with us

user29 "lando and y/n getting along isn't real, it can't hurt you!" OH REALLY

landonorris i had other plans but i cancelled them to be your tour guide, you're welcome

ynusername me when i fucking lie

oscarpiastri do my eyes decieve me

ynusername shut up oscar

landonorris yeah shut up oscar

user30 couples that fight their friend together, stay together

ynusername i can and will block you 😃

user30 oh.

oscarpiastri no it's fine i didn't want to be invited

oscarpiastri i totally hate the ocean, it's not like i surf or anything

oscarpiastri looks boring, would've hated to go on a boat

landonorris other than the fact that i lost my flip flop in the ocean, it was fun i guess

user31 good job lando this came off exactly as nonchalant as you hoped king

ynusername HAHA LOSER YOU LOST YOUR SHOE

oscarpiastri I LOST SOMETHING ONCE 😞

user32 close enough, welcome back brocedes

ynusername literally what is the correlation here

user32 idk leave me alone

user33 um so this is actually insane

user34 i screamed so loud my neighbors called the cops because they thought i was being murdered

user35 can you be normal

user36 this might be the first original experience

user35 no, not original, just embarrassing

user37 i want to be excited about this but it feels so sinister

ynusername good, it should be

maxfewtrell never in my 23 years of living could i have expected this (lando messaged me to tell me what he was doing today)

user38 posting a comment is optional

maxfewtrell i have fomo, can i live

user39 lany/n shippers all around the world cheered

user40 oh you different friend!

user41 onto something ❌ on something ✅

user42 and the crowd is... the crowd is leaving??

user43 my crew lets go

user44 "war is over" we all say in unison

oscarpiastri not likely 💀

user23 HELLO OMFHADFSLJ

danielricciardo oh so you can hang out with him in monaco but not with me

ynusername sorry babygirl 😔 i didn't mean to abandon you

danielricciardo ew never fucking mind

maxverstappen1 i live in monaco too! hope this helps

ynusername i knew that already! hope this helps

maxverstappen1 oh.

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ynusername posted to story!

(caption: he won't leave me alone, this is sick)

17,822 replies

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landonorris posted to story!

(caption: she's trying to convince me it's cold out... girl no it is not)

24,006 replies

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I AM SOOOOO SORRY THIS TOOK 5 MILLION YEARS TO BE UPDATED!! i am hoping to be more consistent moving forward, but my schedule is a bit of a mess with school. hopefully i'll be able to get some requests fulfilled soon as well though!

most importantly, thank you so much for all the love and support on this fic!! the amount of comments, asks, and dms asking about updates was staggering and it makes me so happy that you all like to so much (: receiving such positive feedback for this fic has honestly rejuvenated my love for writing so much, and i can't express how much the support means to me.

please keep leaving comments and dms with your thoughts, i love reading them <3 hope u enjoyed!

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𝙩𝙖𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

@lemon-lav @slutforpopculture @m4rt10ne @urfavsgf @sadsierra2 @96jnie @sltwins @poppyflower-22 @alliumiae @livelovesports @liberty-barnes @the-holy-trinity-l @iliwyss @awritingtree @redpool @elliotts1one @velentine @chaoticmessneutralplease @5sospenguinqueen @charizznorizz @2pagenumb @mxdi0 @cwiphswmwasohmm @tremendousstarlighttragedy @lnspipedrm @itseightbeats @tinycoffeeroom @woozarts @personwhoisther @a-beaverhausen @love-simon @annabellelee @ravisinghs-wife @chezmardybum @greantii @weekendlusting @monserelates @sapphiccloud @halleest @deamus-liv @gigigreens @morenofilm @laneyspaulding19 @lanireadss @dear-fifi @moldyshorts1997 @oliviarodrigostan13 @eugene-emt-roe @ilivbullyingjeongin @im-a-ghost666

[jacaerysgf]

Fighting words

summary: one of the bracken boys has been hitting on you for days now and youre sick of it. He happens to take it too far with you and your best friend shows you a side of himself you’ve never seen. and you like it. a lot.

Benjicot Blackwood x Fem!Cerwyn!reader | 1.3k wrds

c.w: probably very occ as we dont know like anything abt him in the show 😭😭, slightly smutty, takes place before any battles, not proofread

he wouldn’t leave my mind, so take this 😁

masterlist - requests are open!!

tags: @hxtd

“No. Leave me alone bracken.” you try to shove him away from you but the bracken boy just grins at you and leans closer into you.

“Oh come on cerwyn, i see how you look at me~” a scoff escapes your lips as you stare at him with disgust. “In your fucking dreams, seriously. Leave me alone.”

You didn’t even know this guys name but he had been bothering you for the last couple days. It had started out small with him trying to invite you to come drink with him and his friends to him offering to carry around your stuff for you when you were walking around.

“theyre arrows bracken.”

“so what? must be heavy for you youre a girl.”

He grossed you out. But didn’t matter even if he didn’t,

“she said no.”

The two of you turn to look at the new voice and a smile creeps up on your face. The bracken boy rolls his eyes as he glares, “the hell do you want blackwood.”

“she said no. Back off.”

youve been friends with the lord of house blackwood for since you were younger and hes always been so kind to you. It seemed to be obvious to everyone other than him that you were madly in love with the young lord but if he did notice he said nothing about it.

You knew of his, angry? or maybe a better word is his more aggressive behavior. You had never even seen it first hand but multiple people have told you first hand accounts of him losing his temper and blowing up, his normal calm and kind demeanor getting lost to rage and blind madness.

You did not know what to think about the rumors then but seeing the way his eyes twitched and his clenched jaw as he stared at the bracken boy the rumors about him became more and more believable.

The bracken boy stands and gets all up in bens face, “What are you gonna do about it huh?”

Ben tilts his head and a look you’ve never seen crosses his eyes as he glares. “Get the fuck out of my sight.” His voice is hard like youve never heard before and it has you holding your breath, waiting for the straining thread to snap.

And the thread snaps the second bracken pushes bens chest and laughs. “what? you upset this ugly bitch wants me more than you-“ It happens before you know it and suddenly the two guys are on the floor and everyone in the room jumps up to look.

you freeze. What in the hells are you supposed to do? so you merely watch as the two boys beat the fuck out of each other. Ben pulls ahead at some point and manages to get a few more punches in after pinning the guy down until the two are pulled apart.

“never talk about her like that, no. never talk to her again or else ill fucking kill you.” He thrashes around in the arms of the two blackwood lads that hold him back as he continues to spit insults at the bracken boy as he gets dragged off and out of the space.

Your legs move before you can even think and your standing in front of him, he freezes and blinks at you rapidly. Hes covered in blood, you cant tell which is his and which is the other guys but he looks badly hurt.

He had done it for you. In your name. And you could barely take how hot you felt but he needed you. “i have supplies in my tent let me fix you up.” the boys oooo’d and ben barely acknowledges them as he nods and allows you to drag him off to your tent.

The boys call after you two with some unsavory choice words but you just turn and flip them off before you continue to help ben to your tent. You place him on your bed cot and try to ignore the racing of your heart as he stays quiet, merely looking at you.

Hes usually quiet but not around you. Its odd to see him like this. So you shakily rummage around with the stuff in your chest as you nervously begin to talk. “thank you for stepping in i was really nervous he wasn’t going to leave me alone, you didn’t meed to-“ you gasp as your spun around and lips lock onto yours with fever.

One of his hands reach behind you and push all your stuff off your table, lifting up you up to sit on it while he kisses you. You gasp against his lips and he takes the opportunity to stick his tongue in your mouth.

Your head is spinning. You can taste the metallic taste of his blood seep into your mouth and it laces its way into your kiss. You fear you’re dreaming. You felt asleep on watch shift again and when you wake this will all just be a dream.

Yet when you grip your hand against his waist he pulls away and winces. You are pulled back to reality and try to pull away to grab your medical supplies that now are all spilled all over the floor but he quickly stops you.

“ben you’re hurt.” “i dont care.” He tries to kiss you again but you dodge it and grip his face in your hands. “ben,” His hand slide around your waist and play with the fabric of your tunic, testing the waters and sliding his hands lower and almost under the tunic you wear. “ben.” you say firmer and he pauses to look at you.

“right now i just need to feel your skin, please.” your heart pounds loudly against your chest and your mouth drops open. “ben,” his name shakily passes your lips and he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “How dare he talk to you like that. i should have killed him,” his hands slide under your tunic his hot hands run up and down your bare sides slowly. “he should know i take no disrespect to the future lady of blackwood.”

You kiss him unable to take it anymore and he meets your fever eagerly. arms wrapping around you and pulling you so your chest to chest and you can feel him pressing against your trousers.

His lips trail down your jaw as his hands find your breasts and you let out a moan as he squeezes them in his hands. His lips your neck and he sucks at any skin he can get while he grinds his hips against yours. His hands grow more feverish as he uses his teeth to pull down your tunic to expose more of your collarbone and neck, youre sure to be covered in bruises tomorrow but you cant be bothered with that.

One of his hands trails down your stomach and almost gets to reach under your pants until a horn sounds outside and you both look at each other alarmed.

“ugh fuck me.” “wish i could.” you slap him on the chest as he pulls away and he hisses.

“that hurts.” “if you had let me patch you up it wouldn’t be hurting you idiot.” “you certain didn’t look like you were going to complain. not when i was about to-“ “okay! lets go they need us.” you ignore the sound of his laughter as you flap open your tent and rush out leaving him behind, hoping you look presentable enough your men dont ask questions and pray you can continue what you were doing with ben later.

[byunpum]

Mama's boy

Pair: Jake x neytiri x human reader (trio couple) x sully children's

Warning: none, lo'ak being a sweet little potato for is mama. Sweet family moment.

Request: (anon) You were incredible in these new chapters, if it wasn't much, I would have been able to do a trisal story about Jake, neitiry and reader human where she has 2 more hybrid children (half human,Half na'vi)..

Note: I have always believed that avatars may be able to reproduce with humans. Both males and females. Since there are human traits in their DNA. So both jake and his children could reproduce with any human. That is my theory.

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6(final)

You loved days like this, it was a fresh and calm day in the jungle of Pandora. No one in the family had anything important to do. Just relax and spend time together. If anyone had told you that in a few years you were going to be sitting quietly on the floor of your home. With your son on your lap, while playing with one of his toys. With such loving partners, you wouldn't have believed them. And you had a good point for not believing. Neytiri and Jake were your mates, while you were human. The only human who was mated to two na'vi. The only human who had given birth to a na'vi baby, naturally.

Lo'ak had been born as a na'vi. With his distinctive braid, tail, skin color, ears etc. Just like his father, jake. But his human features were always there, he inherited your hands, some facial features that made him different from his siblings. Like kiri, they were a mixture of human and na'vi. This was not important to you, in your family these differences were not important and everyone was treated equally.

Neytiri was running around in circles playing with kiri, while neteyam was playing with jake. Meanwhile lo'ak was sitting very comfortably on your lap. Sucking his little finger, while you cuddled him. He was very peaceful, well…when he was with you. The bond that lo'ak had with you was very strong, he needed his mommy with him all the time. Neteyam and kiri were more active, while lo'ak preferred to be by your side. You tried to keep him away from you, so that he would become more independent. But it was all in vain, even mo'at herself told you that this was normal. That eventually he would become more independent, but he was already 5 years old, and he didn't seem to improve. Of course, this never bothered you… lo'ak became your own tail. Always behind you. Lo'ak could be with neytiri, about 3 to 5 hours. But then he would cry for you to hold him, and it was the same with jake. Lo'ak just wanted to be with you.

Neteyam ran to you, hugging you. The boy was about your size, but you didn't care. Hugging him back, to give him lots of kisses on his cheeks. Neteyam didn't notice but pushed lo'ak off your lap, causing the boy to fall to the ground. "mama… I want to be with you" says neteyam, now sitting where lo'ak once was. Lo'ak immediately began to cry. It was a very big and exaggerated whine. "Calm love…neteyam needs to be with me too" you try to calm him down, but you could barely touch him. Because neteyam was curled up on your chest. Neytiri comes closer, taking lo'ak in her arms to calm him down.

After a long six minutes, lo'ak calms down. But you can see how the child looks down from above, on Neytiri's shoulder. His eyes were watery and he was pouting. You try to ignore him, he has to learn that you were not only from him. Neteyam was also your son, as was Kiri. And they too demanded your attention. Kiri approaches his younger brother, hopping from neytiri's feet. "You're a mama's boy… an ugly, crying baby," Kiri says jokingly. Neytiri scolds her, while you and jake couldn't hold in the laughter. It was funny, but you take Kiri by the arm. Sitting her down next to you.

"Kiri…that's not right, lo'ak is special. He needs a lot of love" says neytiri holding the child in her arms, hoping he doesn't start crying. "No…mama is mine!!!!" says neteyam, hugging your neck more. Lo'ak whimpers, lifting his head from neytiri's shoulder. "Noooo mama is mine" shouts lo'ak.

"No!!!, only mine!!!" neteyam yells back, sticking out his tongue. This makes lo'ak upset, and he starts to cry. "nooo mama!!!! Let go of neteyam!!!!! Mama let go of me, I want to go on the floor" lo'ak is crying, while neytiri giggles a little. It's adorable to watch as the two children fight for your attention. Jake gets up from the floor, walking to your direction and taking neteyam from your lap. To now lay him down on the floor. Kneeling on the floor to carry you in his arms, bridal style. You laugh, as the children begin to whine.

"Technically, your mom is all mine" jake says, sticking his tongue out at his kids, reaching over to give you a kiss on your forehead. Watching as they start to whine. Neytiri was giggling, while now all the kids wanted her to carry them to keep up with jake. "Well…I'd say I'm more Neytiri's than yours" you say, reaching up to give him a kiss on the tip of his nose. (Y/N is wearing the oxygen mask I'm always mentioning, "click here" to learn more about it) Neytiti lets out a loud laugh, you could see her cheeks turn purple. Neytiri had a soft spot for you. Jake lets out a sigh of surrender and hugs you tighter. Leaving kisses on your neck, while you laugh.

In the evening, everyone was settled in their respective hammocks. You were finishing getting Kiri settled, while Jake put the boys to bed. After a while, you lay down in your own hammock, you were tired. You were about to go to sleep, when you feel little hands touching your arm. You open your eyes, finding lo'ak's little face. The child had his arms outstretched for you to carry him. Laughing a little, you hold the child. And settle him on your chest. Snuggling him with your arms, giving him lots of kisses on the crown of his head. "My beautiful baby…you are sad" you lullaby to lo'ak. He only responds with a "hmmm" and falls asleep in your arms.

Jake comes up to you one last time, to check that all was well. As he approaches, he notices how you and lo'ak were cuddling. "I imagined he was with you," Jake said softly. Leaning in to give you a kiss on the tip of your nose. "Well… you know what he's like" you joke. "He's a mama's boy…a cute mama's boy. You know…" jake pauses, thinking about how he was going to say what he was going to say next. "Eventually you'll have to let him grow up…kids his age are more independent and " jake is interrupted, when one of your hands goes to his mouth. "Shhh shut up…when it's time, he'll grow up on his own…in the meantime we'll be here for him." you speak, slapping jake's arm playfully. There was a small silence, until you see a playful smile on Jake's lips.

"Babe…why don't you leave lo'ak here quietly and come sleep with me and neytiri" jake takes your hand and gives it a kiss on the palm, causing you to giggle and blush. "Together…the three of us" jake jokes biting your fingers. You laugh softly, trying not to wake lo'ak. You think about it for a moment, and the truth is you missed sleeping with jake and neytiri. Lo'ak consumed too much of your time, so you accept Jake's offer. You carefully settled lo'ak down, making sure he was comfortable.

Jake was behind you, excited. You could hear his tail bump between his legs. He held your hand, walking quickly to the hammock that you and Jake and Neytiri usually shared. Neytiri watches as you and Jake approach. She gets excited, it had been about 3 months since you last slept with them. Reaching out her hand, she takes yours. You climb in easily, feeling Jake hold you around the waist. Both of you settling into the hammock. You were in the middle of them, neytiri hugged you. While Jake hugs you from behind, burying his head in the back of your neck. "I missed this," says neytiri, enjoying the comfort. A couple of minutes later, lo'ak's crying began to be heard. You lift your head from neytiri's chest, beginning to stand up. When you feel her hug you tighter. "No… Y/N you must let him calm down himself" neytiri says. "Y/N, neytiri is right" jake speaks.

"He ate, he's clean and he's comfortable. He can be alone" says neytiri, she was serious. You knew you had to leave him alone, but lo'ak was your baby. Your only baby. "If he doesn't stop crying in five minutes, I'll go check on him. You stay here and rest," Jake speaks, kissing your shoulder. Your partner had you in his arms, if it wasn't for that you'd be at lo'ak's side by now. And as if by magic, lo'ak stopped crying. Jake got out of the hammock and checked from afar. Seeing how the child had already fallen asleep.

"See…it's all right," says Neytiri, hugging you even tighter. You snuggle closer to her. As you feel jake settle in behind you. Hugging you both. This parenting thing was all new to all of you.

[nenemura]

PRETTY ISN’T PRETTY — (nrk x reader)

summary : your boyfriend helps you overcoming your insecurities.

cw : bf!riki x fem!reader, insecurities, kisses.

wc : 1k.

nene’s note : wrote this bc i don’t feel good w myself AND bc i can’t find the motivation to finish the longer ones, please bear w me xoxo

you tried so hard to look pretty.

you went to the beauty salon every month, you didn’t necessarily follow the trends, but still you tried to dress fashionably, you learned how to do your makeup.

but it wasn’t enough.

you looked in the mirror and couldn’t see all the work you’d put in being pretty. sure, you didn’t fit the beauty standards and you wouldn’t say you were ugly — it just wasn’t enough. boys never really looked at you and in your friend group you never were “the attractive one”. you still managed to find a boyfriend, riki. he was nothing but good to you, always telling you how stunning you were, making you feel loved and all. but you couldn’t believe him. you never really understood why someone like him — hot, talented and confident — would like someone like you.

you cried every night because of the way you looked. you wished you could see yourself and be able to say “wow, she’s beautiful”. you wished you could believe what riki told you.

that night wasn’t that different.

your face was buried deep in your pillow, muffling the quiet sobs escaping your lips as tears rolled down your cheeks, staining the pillowcase. you were just waiting to cry yourself to sleep and pretend everything was good the day after, when you heard a knock on your window. you looked up, startled by the sudden sound, just to find riki waving at you and signaling to open up so he could get in.

you quickly stood up and rushed to the window, letting him inside. you didn’t dare to look at him — not with your tear-stained face. you didn’t want him to worry, though you knew he’d notice.

“i missed you, so i thought i could drop by and—” he started, but his voice trailed off as he took in your red, swollen eyes and the way you looked away from him. “hey, hey,” he said softly, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. “what’s wrong?”

the gentleness in his voice made you burst out crying again, this time full-on sobbing into his shirt which you were sure to stain. his heart broke, hearing you crying like that, but he didn’t ask any questions, knowing that you’d talk when you were ready. he just held you tighter. “it’s okay,” he whispered to your temple. “i’m here, hm?”

you looked up at him, finding his gaze already on you, eyes filled with worry. “why do you like me?” you blurted out, causing his brow to furrow. “what do you mean?” he asked, his voice soft but confused.

“i’m not pretty.” you muttered, looking down at your hands, which were fidgeting as a way to relieve stress and tension. “how can you like someone like me? my.. my teeth are crooked and- my nose has this stupid hump, and—” he didn’t let you finish. instead, his lips captured yours in a slow, tender kiss, silencing you.

when he pulled back, his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing your soft skin. “can you stop speaking nonsense now and let me talk?” he said, his voice playful yet firm. “do you really think everyone sees you like you see yourself?” you bit your lower lip, eyes darting towards the floor, but riki tilted your chin up, to make you look back at him. “no, they don’t.” he replied for you as you hesited, a small smile lingering on his lips.

“in my eyes, you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen. your crooked teeth?” he said with a small smile. “make your smile unique — real. your nose? it suits your face and, honestly, i think it’s pretty hot,” he said, as he playfully booped it, making you scrunch it up while a laugh escaped your lips. “i wouldn’t want you any other way, y/n.” he whispered, looking into your eyes with a sincerity you’ve never seen before. “really?” you asked, tilting your head slightly to look at him better.

“really,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, smiling as he saw your lips curving up. “what made me fall for you wasn’t the way you look, but the way your soul touched my heart and made it completely yours,” you could feel the tears forming again in your eyes, but this time they were different. they weren’t born out of frustration or sadness — they were warm, comforting, and filled with gratitude. you felt the weight of his words settle in your chest, melting away some of the insecurities you’ve been carrying.

“i wish you’d told me how you feel sooner,” riki murmured, caressing your lower lip with his thumb. “i wanna be here for you, to stop you from thinking dumb things, y’know?” you chuckled at his words, lightly punching his arm. “i love you, y/n. okay? you’re everything i desire and want. never forget that,” he kissed you again, his lips lingering on yours in a kiss so delicate it felt like he was pouring every drop of his love into it.

you pulled back slightly, resting your forehead against his, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “i love you too, riki. i’ll try to.. believe you and see myself differently”

“that’s all i ask,” he replied, holding you tightly. “but even if you don’t, i’ll keep reminding you until you do.” you hugged him again, burying your face in his chest as you let his steady heartbeat calm you. in that moment, the weight of your insecurities didn’t feel so heavy and suffocating.

you realized that it wasn’t about being pretty by anyone’s standards, but surrounding yourself by people who made you feel beautiful just as you were. and for you, riki was that person, your anchor in the storm of self-doubt.

you obviously didn’t feel completely healed, but for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were enough. and that was just the start.

[tiki-was-here]

The Deep x Marine Biologist Reader P1

Word Count: 1.1k

This takes place post gill breakdown . Basically hes so desperate for any sort of positive attention hed probably suck ur toes if you asked nicely. Also there’s like zero gifs of the deep cmon guys do better.

Also also CW for the deep being a teeny bit sexist at the start

The Deep sat hunched over on a plush armchair in his shitty apartment, aimlessly scrolling through his phone. He was supposed to be on standby for a mission involving some flooding in a coastal city, but as usual, the others had it covered–despite the fact that he told Ashley that all water related missions were supposed to be his only. He sighed, tapping through social media, pausing his doom scrolling to occasionally say some not so PG words under the posts of a poor family taking a beach day out. If she wanted to post her ugly ass kids then she could have at least shaved before she went out.Then, a notification caught his eye.

Specifically a DM. He didn't get much of those in general but after the situation with Starlight died had died down his number of daily messages got cut down to almost nothing.

He squinted at the username “marinebio_enthusiast”. He was ignore it when he noticed something unusual—it wasn’t hate mail. Curiosity got the better of him, and he opened the message.

“Hi! My name is [Y/N], and I’m a marine biology student at Sandalwood University. I’ve been really passionate about ocean conservation lately, and I thought it would be amazing to get your perspective on a few issues. Also, I know this might sound a little weird, but I’m a big fan of yours! I think it’s great that you care so much about the ocean and its wildlife. If you’re interested, I’d love to buy you a coffee and chat about it! I also sent an email just in case this doesn’t reach you. I really appreciate your time! :)”

The Deep reread the message twice, his eyebrows lifting. A fan? Someone who actually wanted to talk to him?(bros too lonely to care about stranger danger)

A warmth spread through his chest. It wasn’t just the praise that made him feel good—it was the way you’d worded it, like he was someone important. Like his opinion mattered. He glanced around the room, half-expecting someone to jump out and tell him it was a joke.

He typed back before he could second-guess himself.

“Hey [Y/N], thanks for reaching out!!!!! I’d love to help out and chat about marine life🪼🐠🦈. Coffee sounds great 👍👍👍. How about tomorrow at noon?”

He hesitated, then hit send. Instantly, his phone buzzed with your response.

“Wow i really didn't expect a response so soon. Thank you soooo much for this opportunity!

Noon is good for me i’ll meet you at [insert some random coffee shop name idgaf]. I'll see you then!”

The Deep couldn’t help but grin, the night spent planning possible outfits and stalking your profile.

The Deep watched the door intently, his foot tapping nervously. He would never admit it, but he’d actually gotten there twenty minutes early. He’d opted for something casual—jeans, a button-up, and a beanie to hide his identity a bit. When you finally walked in, he couldn’t help but straighten up, almost knocking his coffee off the table in the process.

He raised a hand, and when your eyes met his, you smiled so brightly he felt a bit self-conscious. You made your way over, and he stood up, almost tripping over his own feet to shake your hand.

“Wow, it’s really you,” you breathed out, eyes wide. “Thanks for meeting me!”

He cleared his throat, trying to sound confident. “Yeah, of course. I mean, I’m always happy to, uh, help with marine stuff. You know, it’s kind of my thing.”

You giggled, and his chest puffed up a little. “Yeah, I figured. I saw your speech on marine preservation from a few years ago. It’s what got me into marine biology in the first place.”

The two of you sat down, and you immediately started talking about the project you were working on—something about coral bleaching and how to promote rehabilitation efforts. The conversation flowed easily —mostly you talking about your project while he nodded along, occasionally throwing in random facts he’d Googled last night. He even made a joke about dolphins being the “mean girls” of the sea, and when you actually laughed, he felt like he’d just won the lottery.

“You know,” you said after a while, stirring your latte, “it’s really admirable how much you care about marine life. I think people forget that sometimes.”

He blinked, surprised. “Yeah, they do,” he admitted, a little softer than intended. “Most people just see me as… the fish guy.”

You gave him a sympathetic look. “Well, I think it’s great. And I really appreciate you taking the time to meet with me. You didn’t have to, but you did.”

He couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, well… it’s nice to talk to someone who gets it.”

You nodded, eyes softening. “People can be pretty harsh. But you’re doing your best. That’s what counts.”

The Deep wasn’t used to this—being treated like a person.

You glanced at your phone,checking the time. “Hey, would you mind coming with me to check out a spot? I’d love to show you what I’m talking about.”

He blinked, surprised. “Uh, sure! Yeah, let’s do it.”

He followed you out to the parking lot, still a little confused. You opened your car door and gestured for him to hop in.

“I promise it’s not far,” you said. “It’ll make way more sense if you see it in person.”

He hesitated, trying to rationalize the situation. You seemed nice enough. Plus, you’d picked a spot by the ocean, so if this turned out to be some trick, he’d have the advantage. With a shrug, he got into your car.

The drive wasn’t long, and when you pulled up, he realized you’d taken him to a little cliffside overlooking the ocean.

“Wow,” he murmured, stepping out. The ocean stretched out below, waves crashing against the rocks. He couldn’t help but feel calmer just being near the water.

“Cool, right?” you asked, leaning against the car. “This is where I do most of my research. I thought it’d be the perfect place to explain my idea.”

He glanced back at you, surprised to find you tugging your shirt over your head. His brain stalled, and he nearly choked on his own breath.

“W-what are you doing?” he stammered, eyes widening.

You shot him a playful grin,stripping the rest of your clothes so you were now just in your boxers. “I’m going in. You’re welcome to join me.”

Before he could process it, you ran to the edge of the cliff and dove gracefully into the water below. His heart leapt into his throat.

“Oh, shit—” He bolted to the edge, peering over. You’d vanished beneath the waves. Panic set in, and he didn’t think, he just dove in after you.

The water rushed around him, cool and familiar, but when he surfaced, you were nowhere to be seen. His heart pounded.

“Hey!” he called, splashing around. “Where’d you go?”

His mind raced, imagining the headlines. He couldn’t handle another scandal. But before he could dive down again, something grabbed his leg.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

I Put A Spell On You.

Part three

The Smoke Stack Twins remind them just why they’re feared

She was as still as a center block. She could feel a bead of sweat trickling down the side of her face beneath her hat. The barrel of the gun against her left hip was firm. The smell of stale sweat and tobacco wafted her nose unpleasantly. Beyond the red lipstick staining her lips, she could feel her tongue growing dry. The distant sound of cars passing by along the cobblestone road tickled her ears. If only it were Smoke.

The man that smelled of stale sweat and tobacco removed his gloved hand from Rosetta’s mouth. She waited, heart beating so fast like ritual drums her ancestors played. But the gun remained. A painful reminder of her fate. Rosetta swallowed spit, trying her best to see who the man was. She shifted ever so slightly, and then a firm, gloved hand gripped her shoulder. The wood beneath her feet creaked.

“You best keep still, Miss Rosey…I don’t wanna leave an ugly scar on your body with this gun…”

“Who you?” Rosetta questioned carefully, “Phonzo sent you?”

“Sum’ like that…anybody you expecting?”

Rosetta’s eyes flickered towards her left as the man behind her shifted in front of her. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Terry? You son of a bitch—”

Terry raised his weapon to Rosetta’s face. He was sweating profusely from his shiny, bald head down to his coveralls and ratty flannel shirt. Rosetta stared into one brown eye and what appeared to be a cloudy cornea.

“You coming wit’ me. Let’s go. And no yelling.”

Rosetta stared at the gun in Terry’s hand again.

“Smoke gon’ kill you.” Rosetta said with a vengeance.

“Smoke ain’t here. He fixin’ that fancy car. That’s if he even make it outta there in one piece anyway.”

Rosetta trembled, “The brick…”

“Yeah…you see this eye,” Terry pointed one finger with a dirty nail at his cloudy eye, “Your man did this to me. I ain’t forget how he almost left me for dead.”

“You so stupid,” Rosetta flicked her eyes to meet Terry’s, “You think you won? Huh?”

“Look where I am and you is! ‘course I won!” Terry exclaimed.

“Phonzo wants me. You think he’ll let you kill me? He wants me alive, Terry. Remember how you shot yourself in the foot?”

Terry blinked rapidly in recollection, “I was drunk off that corn liquor. What that got to do wit’ this?!”

“Just saying, your trigger finger ain’t strong. You put a bullet in me, this yo’ last day on earth.” Rosetta threatens.

Terry kissed his teeth, “Quit bumping yo’ gums, bitch. Turn ‘round.”

Terry rotated the gun in his hand for Rosetta to turn. As she began to turn her back on him, she could see cuffs in his hand. Panic set in. Rosetta dropped her gaze to an end table with a lamp situated on it.

“Ida Mae gon blow her wig for this.”

Rosetta’s back became as stiff as the floorboards beneath her feet.

“Ida Mae? That stank jezebel? She put you up to this?!”

“When the twins made an exit, Ida Mae started working with Phonzo,” Terry walked up behind Rosetta and started placing the cuffs around her wrists, “Sellin’ pussy and heroin.”

Rosetta needed to act fast. She knew Terry wasn’t the brightest.

“And she sent you to do her dirty work? You sure Ida Mae got your back, Terry?”

CLINK.

He cuffed her left wrist. Rosetta’s chest tightened with anticipation. Shutting her eyes, she gathered her strength for what she was about to do. It was now or never. It was her life or his. Smoke taught her to fight. He taught her how to defend herself if any situation was ever to come up. She never imagined she’d end up here.

Well, her mother told her she would if she continued fooling around with Smoke.

Immediately, Rosetta threw herself back against Terry with all her strength, knocking him against an arm chair. One wrist still cuffed, Rosetta lunged, missing Terry’s foot that would have planted against her face. She wrapped her hand around the handle of his gun and pointed it at him. She’d lost her hat in the process, wild hair on display.

“GET YO’ ASS UP!” Rosetta shouted.

Terry scrambled to his feet. He held his hands up in surrender.

“You so stupid! Don’t you move before I shoot!”

“Gal! Put that fuckin’ thing down! I wasn’t gon hurt you–”

“FUCK YOU!” Rosetta yelled, “Give me ya keys. NOW!”

Terry fumbled with his pockets until a ring of keys surfaced. He tossed them to Rosetta and she watched them land directly next to her right foot with a loud clatter. She did a quick glance down at the keys before focusing back on him.

“I’m takin’ your car. If I were you. I would get to gettin’ QUICK! Smoke gon’ find you and kill yo’ ass for good this time! And as for that bitch, Ida. I got her myself.”

Terry was panicked. He shuffled towards the doorway, and as he did, he tried to reach for his keys, and on impulse, Rosetta pulled the trigger.

POP!

“SHIT!!!!”

Terry fell backwards against the door, splintering it and clutching his bloody hand with a perfectly precise bullet wound in the center. Blood gushed in ripples, painting his coveralls a deep crimson and his dirty boots. Little drops created a puddle on the floor.

“YOU SHOT ME!” Terry spit–yelled.

Rosetta recovered from the shock of it all quickly.

“Get the fuck outta my house before I put one in your head!”

Terry dashed out of the apartment and down the steps. Rosetta followed, making sure that he was gone. She locked the doors behind his retreating body, staring down at her hand with his blood on it. Rosetta walked towards the back of the boutique until she came upon the back door and noticed the handle had been broken off.

“Shit…”

Rosetta wiped sweat away from her upper lip with the back of her hand that still held the gun. She used Terry’s keys to undo the cuff on her left wrist.

She crouched down and retrieved the doorknob. Rosetta doubled back and headed towards her mother’s sewing room. She brushed past a mannequin littered with pins and crouched down to retrieve a tool box. There was no way she was going to leave with access to her mother’s boutique. As she was dragging the wooden box with tools, her eyes caught onto a stack of letters neatly tied together with tweed.

Slowly, Rosetta grabbed the letters and brought them from beneath her mother’s work table. Daylight filtered through the window, igniting the ergonomic words written on the front with a fountain pen.

To: My Rosey

From: Papa

Rosetta snatched the tweed from around the letters and splayed them out in front of her. There were at least thirty letters before her, all from Smoke. She grabbed a letter opener from a mason jar and began opening them. Some were brief, others were two pages long. All updates on how Smoke was doing and how much he loved her and couldn’t wait to be with her again.

Rosetta’s face distorted with sorrow and sadness, tears falling in never ending pain. So, he had been writing to her. He’d been writing to her all this time. Her mother had been hiding the letters from her, making her believe that Smoke didn’t care, that he’d moved on and forgotten her. Chose a life of crime and the possibility of new love.

That man and his brother are nothin’ but trouble.

He don’t love you, Rosey. No man that love you leaves.

No letters from Smoke? Didn’t I tell you?

He killed his own father.

You gon’ end up dead messing with him!

She stared at her hands.

Blood.

The anger and betrayal made her crave more blood.

Is this what it felt like for smoke? Did he enjoy the power he possessed with all the violence? She could have died if it wasn’t for Terry’s stupidity and lack of awareness. She spent years thinking Smoke didn’t write to her. Her own mother lied to her all this time. Her man could be in trouble and worse dead.

Rosetta rushed out of the sewing room, forgetting the toolbox.

She was going to pay Ida Mae a little visit first.

————

“You here awful early, Stack.”

Stack removed his fedora, slicked back hair with deep waves and an exaggerated side part came into view. He flashed the sex worker before him a lascivious smile, deep dimples adorning his cheeks. His cocoa brown skin was sheened from sweat and he smelled of Bergamot and Coriander. The slick suit he wore screamed money maker.

The woman, known around Nola as Louise, had a head full of loose, curly hair in a sandy brown shade, light brown eyes, and a heavily freckled face and body. Men took to her because of her unique beauty. She wore a periwinkle satin dress with a matching robe and teardrop pearls in her ears. Her lips were smudged with a rosy pink lipstick and a purplish hickey was on the left side of her neck.

“Ain’t never too early for pussy, Louise. How you been?”

“As well as I can be during all this hardship. Missed ya’.”

“That right?” Stack placed one hand against the doorway and the other removed the toothpick from between his jeweled teeth, “Miss me? Or this big boy?”

Louise giggles, “A lady can’t miss a man without the dick in the equation?”

“Come on now, baby,” Stack chuckles, “We both know what it was before I left. Had you moaning like an ally cat while I was in it.”

His face was inches away from Louise’s. Her sultry eyes became hooded, the visuals of how Stack had fucked her so good before he left. He had the type of dick to remember for decades. The type that stretched you so good and left you teetering on the edge of climax until it was too much to bear. And it always came with good money.

Louise was stuck in a full on trance. Stack had slipped past her at the door. She situated herself and shut the front door to the pussy haven. A rich mix of rose and sex mingled in the air of the main sitting room. An old ragtime joint played from a record. The sound of distant moans and groans trickled from above and the extravagant chandelier over his head littered with cobwebs and crystals swayed a little from the commotion.

Headboard banging and skin–slapping let him know that work was being done. Stack felt a hand slip around his growing print within his slacks. He welcomed the sensation of that soft hand stroking him through his pants, igniting his full stiffness.

“You want a reminder of how good and tight this pussy is, Stack Daddy?” Louise whispered.

Her breath smelled like a cherry lollipop. Stack couldn’t help but smile. He turned to face her, pressing his fedora against his chest as he leaned in, damn near nose–to–nose.

“Oh, I remember. That button still nice and fat, Louise?”

Stack looked down on her, his eyes scanning her face, one brow raised and his toothpick dancing between his teeth from his tongue’s edge. Louise flicked her eyes to his toothpick, opened her mouth, and latched onto it with her teeth. Stack chuckled, using his hand with thick fingers to pop her on the rump.

“Where Ida at?” Stack asked.

“She busy in her room, counting the cum money.”

“Well then, I guess I can get my dick sucked, how much?”

“Fifty cents a minute. Want your ass licked that’s ten cents more a minute.” Louise replied.

“I ain’t got time,” Stack glanced at the top of the stairs, “Gott give Ida some homecoming strokes too. Shid…aight…let’s be quick, gal…”

Stack gripped Louise’s upper arm and they walked towards the basement where she did her work. Down into the unfinished basement, Stack had to duck because of how short it is. They walked into a cramped room with frumpy, floor mattresses covered in cotton sheets and pillows. Louise had her wardrobe in the corner filled with all her clothes and shoes. A small table with a jewelry box sat beneath the basement window that let a draft in.

Stack could hardly breath. Louise got down on her knees on the bed. She started undoing Stack’s slacks while he watched her with his tongue between his teeth. Louise shoved his slacks and underwear down. She eyed Stack before scooting his shirt up and over his taut abs. He helped her by keeping it out of the way. There, jutted out like a thick pipe aimed for her mouth was the dick she remembers.

Veiny, girthy, and long. Mushroom cap flushed purple from arousal and leaking that good stuff. Louise lapped at his slit with her tongue before sucking. Stack released a heavy sigh, one hand on the back of her head.

“Good, girl…all the way down…don’t play shy wit’ it.”

Louise stroked him while sucking. She twirled her tongue around it, spit on it, kissed it, anything to show how much she missed it. Stack threw his head back while palming the back of her head, guiding her back and forth. The heat gripped his throat and the sweat painted his face. Louise’ face told him she couldn’t handle his dick so far back into her throat.

“Fuck,” Stack dragged his tongue over his jeweled teeth, “What dick you suckin’? Can’t be as big as mine.”

Stack held himself in her throat. Louise tapped his thigh to release her.

“If you want that fifty cents I suggest you stay put, bitch…”

Stack was bent at the knee, grinding his dick in and out of Louise’ mouth. His balls hit her chin with a wet smack.

“Fuck…you ready fa’ this? I’m cumming…”

Stack let go of Louise’ head and she worked harder than he remembered for that nut. Stack watched her with a smirk and a bit of his lip. His ass clenched and his feet planted firm against the concrete floor.

“Shit! Louise!”

Stack grabbed himself and fisted the last bit of thick cum all over Louise’ face. He wiggled his tip over her tongue and she licked the last bit up that emptied from his balls.

“Good to be back,” Stack said with an exhale, “here,” Stack pulled his pants and underwear up before digging in his pocket for a bill, “for being such a good dick eater. I needed ‘dat.”

Louise’ lips parted and her eyes gleamed with tears. Stack helped her up, grabbing a rag from the back of a chair to wipe her face.

“This can hold me over a while, Stack. Thank you.”

“Ain’t no thing, baby. You used to be my hoe, remember?”

Louise giggled, “I’ll always remember.”

Stack kissed Louise softly, “Get cleaned up.”

Stack stepped away to adjust his clothes. Louise left to the only wash room that had to clean. Stack made his way back upstairs, and when he did, he saw Ida accepting cash from a customer. The man scurried away fast, not wanting to be caught in the pussy haven. Ida turned and their eyes locked. A slow smile appeared on her face. She strutted over to him leisurely, eyeing him up and down.

“Got through with Smoke and decided to come back to me?”

That voice. Stack closed his eyes and allowed his ears to take over. She has such a sexy voice.

“Ida Mae.”

“Stack.”

Ida Mae circled him until she was right back in front of him. She wore an elaborate feathered robe in ivory. Ida always wore her hair perfectly sleek and swooped into a fancy bun at the nape of her neck. Stack took great pride in fucking her hairdo up. She didn’t have room to complain anyway, too full of dick to protest.

“Glad you stopped by. Was wonderin’ if you planned to pay me a visit…pay my gals a visit…”

Some of the gals in question stood high above, peering down at Stack in nothing but thigh–high stockings and kitten heels. Titties, pussy, and ass out. Their heavy makeup and press–and–curled hair made them look like fancy jezebels. Moneyed and bougie. Willing to be fucked in all their holes and painted with cum.

“Good day, ladies.”

“Pleasantries.” They replied in unison.

“Had a lil’ reunion with Louise.” Stack revealed.

“I’m sure you did. How much you pay her?”

“Ten dollars.”

Ida’s eyes went wide with shock. So did the other ladies. They shared a look at the mention of how much money was paid. More than what they were used to.

“Hear that girls! Stack got some money!” Ida said with a laugh.

The ladies at the top of the stairs made their way down. They situated themselves on either side of Stack, running their greedy hands all over the front of his suit with glittering eyes.

Long cigarette holder between her fingers, Ida Mae took a drag before blowing her smoke off to the side.

“Another time, girls. He’s mine for now.”

“Sorry gals,” Stack looked at each of them, “next time.”

“Come on, Daddy…”

Ida Mae grabbed Stack by the tie and began climbing the stairs to her room. They both slipped down a hallway, walking past occupied rooms until they were entering hers. It was the biggest room. Stack shut the door behind him and began taking off his suit jacket.

As he did so, he watched Ida Mae remove her robe, revealing her nude body. She was small up top, but she carried most of her weight in her lower half. Ass, hips, and thighs. Enough to keep a man up and ready. And Stack was ready. Her peanut butter skin shimmered in the shaded room. A wild bush between her legs hid her pussy lips that Stack recalls being the fattest slit he’d ever stuck his tongue in.

“Aight, on your back,” Stack peeled his clothes off quick fast, “Spread your legs and bring your knees up.”

“Ain’t changed. Still giving orders…”

Ida opened her legs wide and brought her knees to her chest. Stack dropped his lustrous eyes between her thighs to take in the sight of her bushy twat with a pink center. The coarse hairs were saturated with sticky wetness that had his dick brick hard.

“Condom,” Ida tossed Stack the condom, “Roll ‘dat shit on and jump in this pussy.”

Stack situated himself between Ida Mae’s legs while he rolled the condom over his solid mass. Ida held her cheeks open to keep both holes on display.

“Look at that pink,” Stack lined himself up, “Ready for me to split this thang open?”

“Fuck me!” Ida damn near shouted.

Stack plunged deep and Ida frowned her face with a mixture of pain and pleasure. Stack propped himself up using the back of Ida Mae’s thighs and started dropping dick off like the daily paper and a fresh glass of milk. She puckered her lips and shut her eyes tight.

“Uh-huh!” Stack smirked.

“Oooo, STACK!”

The bed was jumping damn near. Stack’s hair was starting to puff up from its slicked style. His back flexed and glistened. Ida finally opened her eyes to stare down at her pussy painting the condom white.

“This pussy cat gushing!”

“Don’t let up off that spot, Daddy!”

“Take this fuckin’ dick, Ida!”

“SHIIIT! UNH!”

Ida Mae dragged her nails down Stack’s chest. Her thighs trembled out of control around his sturdy hips. He sat back on his haunches and grabbed Ida’s legs. Ankles on his shoulders, his arms curled around her thighs. Stack plowed Ida, the head board banging the wall.

“You my hoe! Always been my hoe!” Stack shit–talked.

“FUCK, STACK!”

“Don’t run. Feel this dick in you!”

Ida Mae’s eyes crossed. Stack could feel her walls smothering him into a chokehold. He clenched his squared jaw and nibbled on her leg, leaving bite marks from his golds.

“I’m a cum! I’m a cum!” Ida weeped.

“Gimme that shit I earned it!” Stack replied with a smug laugh.

Ida Mae shook beneath him. Stack felt the condom slip from how tight she clenched him.

“Let my dick go.”

Ida Mae shivered.

“Better than catfish,” Stack withdrew his hips, “Need a new condom.”

Ida Mae opened a drawer on her wooden side table and handed Stack a new condom. He went to lay on his back and Ida Mae climbed on top. She lowered herself over his dick and shimmied her hips until she was filled to the brim with big dick. Ida started bouncing. The sensation tucked on her clit and stretched her open so much. Stack popped her on the ass before grabbing a hold of her hips.

“Fuck this pussy!”

The amount of dick…the amount of space measured from the tip to the base…it was too much. She’d forgotten what it felt like to fuck on Stack. He just looked up at her with the faintest smile, ruining her with those dimples and puppy dog eyes.

“Aight now,” Stack licked his lips, “Bounce, baby…bounce, baby…uh–huh…good bitch…”

His grip on her waist was firm and so was his upward thrusts. He had Ida Mae’s ass moving and her titties flopping. That pussy didn’t stand a chance. Stack worried his brows and bit down on his lip.

“IDA!!!!”

He lost control. Stack slowed down while Ida rode him until he was emptied into the condom. Stack wiped sweat from his eyes so he could see Ida Mae’s face. She smirked at him with lust before climbing off. Stack sat up to get rid of the condom. He started getting dressed, watching Ida clean up with a cloth.

“Needed that, Stack. So I thank you,” Ida Mae gave Stack a chaste kiss, “Got somewhere to be?”

“Do. Meeting Smoke. Got business to handle.”

Ida Mae studied Stack closely.

“Well, plan on coming back later?”

“Depends on how much blood on me.” Stack joked.

“You killing somebody?”

“Nothing for you to worry ‘bout.”

“Hey,” Ida Mae pressed herself against Stack, grabbing his hat, “Why don’t I give you a farewell kiss?”

Stack puckered his lips but Ida Mae wagged her finger in front of his face.

“Tsk tsk, not there. Here,” Ida Mae grabbed him by the dick, “Give me a lil’ taste.”

“Yeah?” Stack tilted her chin slightly, “I got a few minutes to spare.”

“Grab some whiskey,” Ida Mae motioned for Stack to grab the bottle from her table.

“I’ll sip a lil’,” Stack helped himself to a glass.

What she did next took him by surprise. Ida sat down at her vanity and began shooting up her arm. Ida knew how to tie the tourniquet herself. Stack went to work unbuttoning his pants. Ida Mae threw her head back, the addiction to the drug giving her a high she couldn’t help but need. Stack approached her, staring down at her spaced out expression. She caught his eye and smiled. Stack snatched the needle from her hand and pulled the tourniquet off.

“Shit…you doing heroin now?”

“Who aint?” Ida Mae replied.

“I ain’t.” Stack sized her up, “You look out of it.”

“Quite the opposite, Stack. I’m fueled to suck.”

“Not high you ain’t. Can’t believe you using this shit…”

“Shut up and bring that dick out, Stack. Stop acting like you came here for more than pussy.”

Ida Mae climbed down from her seat and started unbuttoning Stacks pants. She still looked dazed, and Stack paused her pursuit for his big dick.

“Ida, who given you this? Supply been strict far as I know.”

Ida glanced up at Stack as her hand slipped into his pants, bringing his thick dick out. She wrapped a hand around him and pressed her cheek against his veiny shaft, Stack throbbed, watching her press her nose against his length. He watched her doze off, sucking his teeth before pushing away from her.

“High ass can’t even pay attention to what’s in front of ya’ I’m out.”

“Wait,” Ida swayed to her feet, “Stay a while, Stack.”

“I’ll be back when ya’ sober.”

Stack did a quick button up before snatching his jacket off of her bed, as he opened the door, Rosetta stood before her, eyes filled with rage and a gun in her hand.

“Rosey?!” Stack eyed her up and down, “What the fuck?!”

“Move Stack,” Rosetta entered the room, “IDA!”

Ida Mae looked up and when she noticed who was standing before her, somehow the heroin coercing through her veins seemed to have worn off.

“Bitch, you sent Terry to kidnap me?!”

“Huh?” Stack’s eyes widened at that revelation.

Ida Mae braced herself against the vanity. She reached for her robe and frantically pulled it over her nude body.

“Terry? Terry who?”

“Oh, so this what we doin’? playing games?”

“Hold up, Rosey—”

“Stack, shut up.”

Rosetta pointed the gun at Ida Mae.

“You gon kill me? You think I had a choice? I ain’t have a choice!” Ida Mae shouted in defense.

“What? So you did do it?” Stack narrowed his eyes at Ida Mae, “Phonzo. That’s who you workin’ fa?”

Ida looked between Stack and Rosetta.

“I ain’t have a choice. Been in a drought. He gives me a cut of the money. Gotta keep this place afloat or else I’m workin’ the fields and I ain’t doing that. I ain’t no field bitch.”

“But you a fake bitch. And a sneaky bitch.” Rosetta fired back.

Ida Mae glowered at Rosetta.

“Gon’ and kill me then.” Ida Mae challenged.

Silence.

Stack looked at Rosetta.

Rosetta blinked slowly at Ida Mae.

“Well, do it bitch!”

POP!

Thud.

Stack’s mouth hung open.

Ida Mae was face down with a bullet to the chest.

“Well, guess that short lesson Smoke gave me the other night paid off.” Rosetta said.

The sound of footsteps grew louder as they approached the door. The sex workers peered inside, staring down at the dead body of their procurer.

“IDA!!!!!!”

Stack yanked the gun from Rosetta’s hand. The women behind him were panicking, all staring at Rosetta with pure rage and fear.

“Guess you own this now, Stack.”

Rosetta turned to leave, pushing past the women. They scattered, unsure of what to do and not wanting to be near Ida Mae’s dead body. Stack was fuming. He came there to get his dick wet and here comes Rosetta dropping a grenade like that and killing Ida Mae.

“Ladies, now, now…listen here…I know this is difficult, but it’s okay. I’m a handle it. Ida Mae made some bad decisions…I want ya’ll to lock up for the rest of the day. I’ll send someone over to handle the body…”

A man stomped out from a nearby room with his pants around his ankles and his dick that resembled a wiener almost hidden beneath his belly on display. He wore a dingy tank top.

“Da hell is goin’ on?!!! I was gettin’ good!”

The man halted in his tracks.

“S–Stack or Smoke?” He stuttered.

“Stack. I think it’s best you get out.” Stack’s eyes held his, steady and firm.

The man didn’t hesitate. He fixed himself and left in a hurry.

“That go for anybody else in here. Rosetta!”

Stack ran after Rosetta. She was getting into an unknown car.

“Stop, fuck you doin? You killed Ida Mae!”

“You gon hop in or keep talking?!!!”

“I drove myself,” Stack pointed to his car, “Come on, gal. We takin’ my shit. Gotta find Smoke.”

————

Smoke rolled up to the empty lot of a car service and grocery. He swatted mosquitoes as he stepped out into the southern heat wave. Feet planted on dirt and gravel, Smoke took a puff of his cigarette before tossing the bud. He began walking up to the car service shop, patting his breast pocket to make sure he had some cigs left. Smoke noticed how empty it was, finding that odd, especially at this time of day. 

Something felt off. He inched inside of the empty shop, the smell of burnt tires and engine oil burning his nose. He hoped he could get his car window fixed, but unfortunately it was a gamble. Service was already hard enough to come by for black folk. Smoke’s fingers began to twitch as his hand inched towards his gun. The faint hum of a car picking up speed caught his ear. Smoke whirled around, spotting a Cadillac approaching.

The windows were down and there was a man hanging out with a pistol in his hand. Smoke ducked and hid behind a concrete beam just in time as bullets began to fly. The concrete crumbled, sprinkling dust over his shoulder. The car came to a halt and Smoke jumped out, firing off rounds with precision. The man with the gun dangled from the window with at least five bullet holes in him. The other doors flew open and Smoke went for his other gun, firing at the other men before they could even grab their weapons.

Click click click click

He was out of rounds. On of the men were crawling along the dirt. Smoke moved fast, putting his foot against his back before flipping him over. He stared down at the man, foot on his chest while his hands worked to reload.

“C’mon man! Let me go! Please!”

“You talkin’ to a dirty south gangster, nigga. Ain’t no begging.”

Smoke pointed his gun at the man’s head.

“Where Phonzo? Let me know now. Ain’t got long before ya’ dead.”

“I don’t know—”

Smoke aimed and shot the man in his dick. The agony and suffering on his face didn’t help. It pissed Smoke off real bad. He brought his gun to the man’s face again, frown lines deepened.

“We gon’ try dat again. Where he at?”

“I’m telling you the truth!!!! All I know is he owns a barber shop near the French Quarter! That’s all I know!!!!!”

“Hm,” Smoke curled his top lip, “What’s it called?”

“Cheap Cuts!”

Smoke squinted, “Get up.”

The man took a while to stand. He faced Smoke with a look in his eyes that told him he knew something else.

“What else? TALK!”

The man fell to his knees. He was losing too much blood. Smoke rolled his neck with impatience.

“Fuck it.”

He pulled the trigger and a bullet lodged in the man’s head. He fell face first into the dirt. Smoke dug into his breast pocket, freeing a new cigarette. Silver chrome lighter in the same pocket, he flicked it twice and lit the end of his cigarette. He flipped it shut and then he entered the car service.

Smoke banged on the door into the grocery. His heavy fist rattled the door. When there was no response, Smoke tried the door knob and entered. He walked in, finding the store owner hiding behind a shelf full of fruit.

“Aye? Got anybody here to fix my window?”

The store owner, a middle–aged black man with round glasses and an apron peeked out from around the shelf. He stood, nervously glancing at Smoke.

“My son won’t be back for another hour. He went to pick up some new parts.”

Smoke released a frustrated sigh.

“Will he be here tomorrow?”

“Ye–yes,” The man cautiously nodded, “Bright and early.”

“Good,” Smoke shook out his arms before putting his gun away, “I’ll see you in the morning then.”

Smoke left the grocery store and headed for his car. He scanned the dead bodies with a quick sweep of his eyes. It wouldn’t be right to leave them splayed out on the store front, especially if customers planned to show up at all. He checked out his car, only noticing two bullet holes on his drivers side.

Smoke went to drag the first body over to the car and mustered all his strength to force dead weight into the back seat. As he was going for the second body, a car pulled in Smoke paused, reaching for his gun instinctively, waiting to see if he was going to have to kill more of Phonzo’s men.

Both doors flew open and out came Rosetta and Stack. He put his piece away and rushed over to them. Rosetta ran for Smoke and collided with him, almost knocking him off his feet. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders tightly.

“What ‘da hell ya’ll doin’ here?!!!!!”

“You okay?!” Rosetta asked, “Phonzo sent his men here!”

“Did. But I handled ‘em. How you find Stack?”

Stack glanced at Rosetta before looking at his twin.

“Rosey killed Ida Mae.”

Smoke was taken aback. He knew his brother to pull his leg, but the look on Stack’s face, the sadness in his eyes, Smoke knew he was being honest. He could feel it in his heart.

“Why you do that, Rosey?” Smoke questioned with an even tone.

“She worked for Phonzo. She sent Terry to my home to kidnap me.”

“Terry? Fucked up eye Terry?”

“Yeah,” Rosetta looked away, “Woulda killed him too but I shot him in the hand on accident.”

Smoke was rendered speechless.

“Yeah, saw her do it wit’ my own eyes, Smoke.” Stack shakes his head, “Can’t believe Ida Mae would do sum’ like that.”

Smoke locked his eyes with Rosetta and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“You aight, doll? Feelin’ okay?”

“…I’m alright. Just happy you alive.” Rosetta replied with a sigh.

“They gon’ have to bring a whole army down on me, baby. Believe ‘dat.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, cute and shit, but where to next?” Stack asked.

“Cheap Cuts. Help me put this nigga in the car and drive it off the lot.”

Rosetta watched Stack and Smoke work together. Smoke climbed into the drivers side and drove the car away from the grocery and car service and into the trees across the way. Smoke made his way back over, dusting himself off. He locked eyes with his twin, both of them sharing an unspoken understanding.

“We head to Cheap Cuts, find out where Phonzo is, and end this shit now.”

Smoke looked towards the sky. It was almost night fall.

“As good a time as any, big brother,” Stack walked back to his car, “Well, let’s go.”

Smoke snaked his arm around Rosetta’s waist as he started walking back to his car.

“This nigga,” Stack waited for Smoke to drive off first before following behind him.

————

The barber shop door dings once collided with the little bell above it. Talcum powder, hair tonics, and other grooming products, often with a touch of the barber's own unique scent filled the air. The overall effect was a classic, masculine, and clean aroma that evoked a sense of nostalgia for many men. A place to come and fellowship with friends and wise men about life and women and whatever else they discussed to pass time.

Rosetta watched the Smokestack Twins disappear beyond the door and slowly close the blinds. While inside, music played. Good ol’ delta blues. Stack’s expensive loafers tapped against the polished floor with each step. Smoke caught the eyes of a young man, probably ten years their senior, cleaning a booth. Another man was getting a clean shave by a barber Smoke recognized.

“Ya’ll looking for a cut?” The older man with sepia skin and wiry grey hair inquired.

“My shit is kinda fluffy. I’ll take a nice comb–over.” Stack replied.

Stack positioned himself before a mirror, his fedora in hand while he checked out his slick back. Smoke took off his own hat, flexing his shoulder slightly.

“You lookin’ kinda snazzy there, brother. Sure you don’t want something stronger to keep that hair down?”

“That chemical process shit? Nah, I like the real.”

“Aight. I’ll be wit ya’ in a minute,” the barber wrapped a warm towel around the customers face, “that’ll be twenty five cents. You Sir—wait…”

Recognition dawned on the old man.

“Got sum you wanna say, old nigga?” Stack questioned comically.

“Smoke. Stack.”

The customer in the chair tilted his head as if he too recognized them. His body frozen.

“That be us,” Smoke walked over, “Phonzo own this shop?”

“Uh. Yeah. Yeah he do.” The barber replied.

Smoke drew his attention towards the back of the shop. He noticed a basement. He puffed on his cigarette and released the smoke through his nose.

“Those stairs gon lead me to ‘em?”

The young man who was cleaning off the booth seats took a few steps back towards the basement. Stack revealed his brass knuckle knife while Smoke displayed two pistols in his gun holster. The young man and the older barber paused. The customer with the towel on his face sat up to see what was going on. When he came into view, it was Terry.

“Well I’ll be.” Stack said.

“SMOKE!” Terry shot up frantically, “What’s goin’ on man?! Stack! How you be?”

“Fuck all ‘dat I know what ya’ did, nigga. Hold this fool down.”

“WAIT—”

Stack on one side, the barber on the other, Smoke positioned himself in front of Terry while he was in the seat. The barber had no choice but to comply.

“So, you thought I wasn’t gon’ find you, huh?”

Stack looked down at Phonzo with a slick smile. Smoke steadily puffed on his cigarette.

“I–I–Smoke, I—”

“Piss or get off the pot, nigga. You drew a gun on my moll? You broke into her momma house and tried to bring harm to my Rosey?”

Terry was at a loss for words. Stack’s usual smile disappeared when he took one look at Smoke. He knew what was about to go down.

“Pass me ‘dat shiv, Stack…”

“Wait…Smoke, hold on now!”

Stack tossed Smoke his knife and Smoke sliced Terry’s throat open with one stroke. The barber watched with horror as Terry choked on his own blood. Stack had a tight grip on Terry’s arm as he thrashed. Smoke stood there, watching Terry gasp for his last breath while the blade in his hand dripped blood to the floor.

“Open that door, young blood.”

The young man didn’t hesitate. He lead the twins over to the basement, grabbed a key from the front pocket of his apron, and opened the door. There was a man at the bottom of the steps keeping guard. As soon as he looked up the steps and caught Smoke’s eyes, he reached for his gun.

Smoke was quicker.

POP!

The guard fell back against the brick wall and dropped to the bottom step. The twins took two steps at a time and as soon as they made it down, bullets started spraying.

“Shit!”

Stack ducked when a bullet hit the brick wall above him. Smoke grabbed his brother as he fired off shots. He tossed Stack his extra gun and the Smoke Stack Twins were in a full on gun battle with Phonzo’s men. A bullet grazed Smoke’s arm while he shot a man that was trying to flee.

“Smoke!” Stack yelled after his brother.

“I’m alright!” Smoke reassured him.

Smoke spotted Phonzo. The man had fresh stitches on the side of his face. He was attempting to leave through the back door. Smoke climbed the stairs and caught him by his feet. Phonzo swung his switch blade, and Smoke gripped his wrist, twisting it the opposite way. He could hear Phonzo’s bones snapping.

Stack appeared behind Smoke out of breath.

“Dead. Except one. And him.”

Stack smirked at Phonzo. He had nowhere else to hide.

“I’m done playin’ hide and seek wit yo’ ass, nigga. Today yo’ last day.”

Smoke yoked Phonzo up by the back of his button down shirt and forced him to climb the stairs. Stack kept his gun aimed at the young boy and the barber. They didn’t make a move to fight back.

“We taking their car. Time to end this shit once and for all.” Smoke said.

“It’s out back, Smoke.” Stack reminded him.

“Good, bring it ‘round front and get that last one down there too. We gon’ swing by our spot, grab the boys, and clean up shop.”

“On it, big brother.”

Stack left to get the car. Smoke stared at Phonzo.

“All because you couldn’t keep that mouth of yours shut. We coulda been coexistin’. Now, the last thing you gon’ see is the corn fields surrounding you.”

————

It was damn near midnight with all the cleaning up they had to do.

Smoke and Stack with two of their trusted men they grew up with running the streets of Nola walked far into the corn field, stopping just before a pre–dug hole big enough to fit all the bodies. Smoke was wearing a white beater with his gun holster pulled snugly over his shoulders like a vest. Stack was wearing only his vest, gold medallion hanging from his neck.

Phonzo and the last of his men were lined up on their knees with their wrists bound behind their backs. Crickets, katydids, and various other insects that make noises at night surrounded them. Fire flies and their bioluminescence created beams around their heads.

Stack sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. Smoke’s nostrils were filled with nicotine.

“Ya’ll smell that? Smell like shit.” Stack spoke with disgust.

“We ‘round cows and horses.” Douglas, a friend of the twins’ since grade school replied.

“Nah,” Stack made his way over to the men.

He paused at the end, and suddenly the man there started crying. Stack locked eyes with Smoke and bent over, slapping his knees as he laughed.

“Ah! SHIT!” This nigga done shit his pants!”

“Death be too quick, won’t even feel the pain.” Smoke spoke evenly and slowly.

Silence was thick in the balmy Louisiana night.

“Aight,” Smoke wiped sweat from his brow, “Let’s pick ‘em off.”

Smoke and Stack went down the line, delivering head shots one at a time. Phonzo was the only one left. Stack stepped away after giving his big brother a once over. He turned his back to talk to their boys like it was a normal day.

“You take my woman, you try to kidnap my woman. Then you forget who we is and how we get down. Now look at ya’.”

Smoke pulled the trigger.

Phonzo fell back into the ditch to join the other fools. All dead. All goners.

“Aight, let’s fill this hole up.”

Cigarette between his lips, each of them shoveled dirt.

“Yeah, let’s get this shit out da’ way so Smoke can go fill another hole.” Stack joked.

Smoke paused, sticking his shovel in the dirt to give his brother a dirty look.

“Fool ass nigga, shovel this dirt up!” Smoke fired back.

Cackles surrounded them like the corn field. Smoke glanced down at his watch after some time. They’d been out there for almost two hours. He was sweaty, musty, and covered in blood and dirt.

“Boys and I gon’ head over to the pussy haven. Gotta clean up there too.” Stack said.

They left the corn field and headed towards their cars. Douglas and the other friend they call Blue, packed away the shovels.

“Comin’ back to the spot tonight?” Smoke asked.

“Yeah.”

Smoke pulled his brother in for a hug before planting a kiss to his forehead.

“Be careful, Stack.”

“I will.”

The twins separated.

Smoke took the long drive back in town towards his place.

His car came to a stop in front of a home Stack and himself shared in Central City. Smoke entered past the gate leading to where he lived and before he could open the door, Rosetta opened it. Smoke walked in and closed the door behind him. He peeked between the shutters to make sure he wasn’t followed. Rosetta was wearing one of Smoke’s button shirts and her hair was pinned up with some tendrils framing her face.

Smoke faced Rosetta, taking off his gun holster. He allowed his eyes to drink her in. Rosetta gave him a faint smile. He allowed his head to fall onto her shoulder when she wrapped her arms around him. Rosetta stroked his broad, muscular back soothingly. He breathed in her scent and kissed her neck.

“I’m so sorry, baby. Maybe your momma is right about me…”

“Hush,” Rosetta whispered, “she don’t know what’s right for me. I do.”

“The shit you did today? It’s all on me, Rosey. I did ya’ momma a disservice by gettin’ ya’ mixed into this. If she find out about what happened—”

“SHE WON’T.”

Rosetta planted her hands against Smoke’s chest as she looked up at him.

“The doors gettin’ fixed. Place will be cleaned. Good as new. She won’t even know—”

“People talk, baby. Word’ll get back.”

“I don’t care, Smoke,” Rosetta’s eye lids fluttered as tears pooled, “She lied to me, Smoke.”

“Whatchu sayin’?”

“The letters you wrote me? She hid them away all this time. I found them before I came lookin’ for you.”

“Serious?” Smoke rubbed Rosetta’s arms.

“I’m gettin’ outta there. I can’t face her. I don’t know what I’m capable of if I do.”

“Aye, now…dat yo momma. She may have her ways, but don’t go talkin’ crazy, Rose.”

“Whatever, I ain’t staying there.”

“You ain’t got to,” Smoke stroked her cheek, “Got plenty room here wit’ me. We can jump the broom…start our own family…right here…us.”

“…What about Stack?”

“Stack stay next door,” Smoke motioned with his head to the left, “You know I gotta keep an eye on his ass.”

“Oh, I know. I love you, Elijah.”

Smoke visibly relaxed at the mention of his name. It didn’t matter if there was a shotgun next to the door, a pistol beneath an end table, a trunk full of war ammunition in his basement, he felt protected and safe in Rosetta’s arms.

“I love you too, Rosey.”

Rosetta scanned his body.

“C’mon. I just finished running you a bath.”

Rosetta led the way up the stairs and into the bathroom. It was lit with a low ambiance and smelled like Lily of the Valley and sandalwood. The clawfoot tub was situated beneath a casement window. Soft jazz music filtered in from below. Rosetta began undressing Smoke. As she lifted his white tank top above his head, he winced.

“Baby,” Rosetta spotted the wound where the bullet grazed his skin, “You gon’ need stitches.”

Rosetta opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed whatever she could to clean him up a bit.

“Why you so good to me?” Smoke asked.

Rosetta met his intense gaze.

“Because I feel safe with you…because you’re my heart…my first…my soulmate.”

Smoke shook his head, “You’re an angel.”

Rosetta giggles, “Am I?”

“Sho’ is.”

Smoke pecked Rosetta on the cheek.

She finished cleaning his wound and then she took off his pants and underwear. Smoke entered the tub and Rosetta rolled up her sleeves. She grabbed a soap sponge and began scrubbing gently at the valleys and peaks of muscle that made up her Smoke. Her Papa. Smoke reached for a pack of cigs and a lighter he kept in the bathroom. Rosetta lit his cigarette for him.

“Central City is nice, but I wanna buy property somewhere rural. Surrounded by miles and miles of trees and land.” Smoke said.

“That sounds good. Peaceful. I love the country. I miss it.”

“Me too. Imagine wakin’ up to a sunset out there…”

Rosetta trailed the soap sponge over Smoke’s dick.

“You just want me barefoot and pregnant, Smoke.”

Smoke gave her a look.

“I don’t want you to have to worry ‘bout nothing. I wanna take you all over the world, baby. Show you the Eiffel Tower. The Colosseum. The Caribbean.”

“Imagine living in Barbados. My daddy used to talk about it all the time.”

“We would be in heaven.” Smoke replied.

He relaxed his head back, closing his eyes as Rosetta’s hand gripped his erection beneath the water.

“Feels good you can relax now huh, Papa?”

Smoke’s bottom lip pouted. Rosetta twisted her hand covered in soap over his hard dick. As she increased the pace, squelching sounds filled the bathroom. The water sloshed against the tub. Rosetta kept her gaze locked on Smoke’s face. She had that big strong man gripping the edge of the tub while she stroked him.

“Let all that gangster shit go for now…”

“Fuck, Rosey…”

Smoke dragged his teeth along his bottom lip. He would have dropped his cigarette in the water if Rosetta didn’t grab it. She put it out in an ashtray. On her knees, Rosetta leaned over the edge of the tub and smoothed her plump lips over Smoke’s equally full ones. Their tongues danced in a slow motion while her hand continued to pump him. He twitched in her palm. She could feel the bulging veins along his shaft. Her thumb circled his tip.

“I need you, baby. I need my pussy…”

Rosetta dragged her lips to Smoke’s left ear. She tongues his ear before nibbling on his earlobe. Smoke glanced down at his dick and groaned from how good it felt. So slick in her dainty hand. So hard and unyielding. He could cut a brick in half with how hard he was. His nuts sat tight and round between his thighs.

“You wanna cum for me, don’t ya’?”

“Rosey…”

“All you gotta do is say it, Papa…”

Smoke grunted when Rosetta’s lips attacked his neck. He could feel himself slipping. He could feel the warmth creeping up his dick, ready to erupt like a volcano. Rosetta took it up a notch and rolled his nut sack with one hand while jerking with the other.

“Oh, shit. Fuck…nasty, girl…I’m a cum…FUCK!”

Rosetta swallowed his moans with her lips. Smoke’s ejaculate spilled over her hand and swirled with the Luke warm water. He lifted one wet hand to grip her neck. They kissed feverishly, desperately trying to overtake the other.

He was home, Phonzo was taken care of, Rosetta is safe. Stack is alive.

He was about to give Rosetta a big welcome.

————

Stay Tuned for the final part! 😘

@hearteyes-for-killmonger @imagining-greatness @chaneajoyyy @uzumaki-rebellion @lisayourworries @ratedbadgal @bombshellbre95 @cancerianprincess @dameshaemonique @6lack-1otus @thickemadame @thickeeparker @stinkalinkkkk @ehniki @electrixt @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @bxolux @sweet2krazee @seyven89 @ispywithmylileye @geemamii @nubianbabee @adoreesun @blackpinup22 @nayaxwrites @cocoa-puffs @dersha89 @honeytoffee @thickianaaaa @modelmemoirs @queenfaithmarie @angelicniah @soulfulbeauty19 @aijha @novaniskye @callmemckenzieee @blowmymbackout @lahuttor @momobaby227 @blackerthings @kenbieee @princessxotwod @palmstreesallday @kokokonako @coolfancyone @soulsparker @richgirlaesthetics

[cute-sucker]

note: this is a continuation of ex-husband rafe headcannons !! please send requests about this relationship! would love to write more about this <3

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.

rafe cameron being your ex-husband made nothing easier and you hated every bit of it, specifically when you started to date again. it was like alarms went off in his head, as he started to show up more. you hadn't told anyone about dating anyone, but your therapist had recommended it.

she'd eased you into it, telling you maybe it was time to put yourself out there into the market. you had shook you head, and laughed at the suggestion, who would want you? a single mother with a obsessive ex-husband. but then suddenly you started to consider it. there was nothing wrong with it, so you accidentally brought it up to rafe.

you had been a bit tipsy, after downing a few fruity cocktail at rafe's work party. you still went to them even though the two of you weren't married. you tried not to notice the way rafe was still wearing the golden band around his neck, and the way his hand travelled to the low part of your back.

"hi," you whispered to him, leaning on him. he looked surprised, of course he was, anytime you saw him you were either scolding or glaring at him, and for you to be giving him your prettiest bright smile? that was something.

"hi sweets," he replied back softly adjusting your dress before dropping his gaze to your lips, and quickly back to your eyes. "what's on that pretty mind?"

you giggled, feeling happy as you looked up to him, "i think i'm going to start dating again. i think it will be good for me, what do you think rafe?" you asked him, before sipping your drink again.

you missed the way that rafe's eyes narrowed at your confession or the way his arms got tighter around your waist, hand going up to touch his nose. yet you felt a little uncomfortable, as you tried to wiggle away from his tight arms.

"yea? what gave you that idea?" he asked you quietly, yet his words felt razor sharp as he gritted his teeth, "who put that silly idea in your head?"

here you frowned, absentmindedly twirling your straw in your pink glass, "um," you started feeling your throat clogg up, "i don't know i thought-? why you think i'm not pretty enough? that i'm ugly now that i've had a baby."

"no, of course now sweets. but i just think it's a bad idea," he said biting his lip, tilting his head in that innocent way. it grated on you, and you rolled your eyes and you felt yourself sober up.

"fuck you cameron. fuck you," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes, before sniffling and you shoving your drink into his hands.

you tried to forget that. after all the both of you pretended it never happened, practically tip toing after one and other. he still came around once and while, trying to be sweet on you before you muttered something with an annoyed expression to get him off you.

and for a while you didn't see him, untill the day you were going on a date. you had a pretty dress on, dangly earings and a diamond necklace. all dolled up, you absentmindedly hummed under your breath feeling a bit nervous, only to hear the front door click open.

there he was. rafe cameron staring at you as you were making your breakfast. he quickly made away to put his arms around your waist, taking a deep breath of your perfume. "you smell good. all of that for me?" he teased, and you made an uncommitted hum.

"hey baby," he said to your baby girl with an easy smile, winking at your little girl who ran into his arms.

"aww you've grown, haven't ya?" rafe cooed to your little girl who jumped nodding furiously. she was holding some flowers in her hand, and had little pigtails. then she told him she had to show him how high she could jump, and he nodded raising his eyebrows in interest, but you didn't miss the way he scanned you and your party dress.

you wanted to give him a dirty look, but when he made your daughter happy like that there was nothing you could do but smile under your breath hoping that he wouldn't notice. you continued to prepare the pancakes, licking the chocolate batter and tossing in a few blueberries.

finally, he seemed to pluck up the courage to ask you. you felt your body tense up feeling anxious.

"where are you going?" he asked softly, eyes watching you move in the kitchen, "you look too pretty to just be dressed up." you closed your eyes, letting out a tired sigh. you could almost feel your throat clog up as you balled up your fists.

you had to tell him. couldn't lie, because rafe cameron would figure out anything he wanted. there was a reason he was a good business man it was because he continued to go for what he wanted leaving other things in the process.

"i have a date today," you said slowly, sprinkling powdered sugar on the warm pancakes, and before he could open his mouth you quickly started to speak again, "daisy, come in sweetie! breakfast is ready."

the look he gave you told you things were not done.

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚

"so who's the guy?" he asks you with a measured look, and you try to ignore the way he's gritting his jaw, and the way he's eying you in that predatory way.

you sighed, putting away your plates. daisy is gone playing with the new toy that daddy got for her. how convenient, you thought, it was almost as if what was going to happen. as if he had planned this all.

"just a random guy."

"lucky guy."

"alright, rafe, just say it!" you hissed out, spinning to look him the eye. "just say what you came for."

rafe closed his eyes, running a hand over his hair, "listen. if it was up to me you would live with me, we'd still be married, and there wouldn't be a random guy!"

"well good thing it's not up to you then huh?" you spat back, pointing an accusiatory finger to his chest, "you made a decision when we were married. you. not me. you were gone for nights and nights for work, it felt as if i was drowning and, you screwed this up."

"you think i don't know that?" rafe muttered back, throwing his hands in the air, "you think i don't wake up every day knowing i lost the best woman in my life."

you felt tears well up in your eyes, "no, you can't say that. you can't say something like that. not after everything."

"fine. have fun in with your date."

and then he's gone again leaving you with your shattered heart.

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚

rafe cameron being your ex-husband made nothing easier yet when you came back that night crying over the phone, telling him how he screwed up everything for you, he still picked up. he came over, nursing you back to health, his soothing warm hands on your back as you sobbed into his chest.

the two of you stay like that, a parallel of what could have been.

taglist: @bouearis , @kys4-20 , @rafeecameronsbitch , @mrsbarnesblog , @slytherins-heir

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (06)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 5.3k

Aliyah's Notes: after the calamity of ch5 i present u ch6.... enjoy it. or not. AND IM SORRY FOR THE ENDING 🔥😩😅😨

It's been days. Or weeks? You didn’t even know anymore. The calendar on your phone kept reminding you, but you stopped counting. Maybe if you ignored the world long enough, it’ll forget you existed. Maybe if you stayed in this apartment, you could disappear into these four walls like you were never here in the first place.

Numbers. You used to count them, obsess over them, keep track of every passing hour. But now, time feels... irrelevant. What’s the point of knowing how long you’ve been sinking when no one’s coming to pull you out?

The silence feels... safe. No one to judge you. No one to see the mess you’ve become. It’s funny, though—people always see what they want to see. The headlines called you a goddess, an untouchable force of beauty and success. But what would they say if they knew the truth? That the girl in their glossy magazines could barely stand to look at herself anymore.

You hated this. The lying, the pretending. Nina thought you were just going through a rough patch, but she didn’t know how deep the cracks went. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to be this anymore—broken, fragile, teetering on the edge again. You swore you’d never come back to this place. But it’s funny how easy it is to fall back into old habits, how fast the darkness creeps in when no one’s watching.

No one’s watching.

Maybe that’s for the best. Let them keep seeing the version of you they wanted to see—the confident supermodel, the girl who had it all. Let them believe the lie, because the truth? The truth was ugly. The truth was you’ve been staring at your phone for days, hoping—no, needing—for a message, for something from him.

But nothing.

He was in Missouri. Working, you guessed. You didn’t even know when he was coming back. He didn’t say. 

You hated him for that. But you hated yourself more for caring. For letting him in, even when you knew better. For thinking, for just one second, that maybe—just maybe—there was something real between you, beneath all the lies you told the world.

But none of it was real. Not the dating, not the smiles, not the person they thought you were. You were a fraud. A perfect, golden fraud wrapped up in designer clothes and empty promises. And the worst part was, you were too tired to fight it anymore. Maybe this was who you were now. A girl who hid in her apartment, waiting for the world to forget she existed.

Or maybe it already happened.

The sound of the door creaking open started you, pulling you out of the spiral you’ve been sinking into. You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. No one else had the key to your apartment beside her.

“Are you kidding me, Y/N?” Nina’s voice cut through the heavy silence like a knife. “This is the third time this week. How long do you think you can keep doing this?”

You didn’t respond.

Nina stromed in, slamming the door behind her, and you heard her heels clacking on the floor as she made her way to the living room. “You’re not answering your phone. You’re not responding to emails. You missed three shoots! People are asking questions, Y/N. What do you think I’m supposed to tell them?”

You stayed silent, curling deeper into the couch. Maybe if you didn’t look at her, she’ll go away. Maybe she’ll finally get the hint that you didn’t want to be saved.

But Nina wasn’t the type to back off. “No,” she snapped. “You don’t get to ignore me, not today. You need to get up. You need to fix this, Y/N. You think you can just hide away forever? Is that the plan? Because let me tell you, honey, the world won’t wait for you to get your shit together.”

She stood in front of you now, hands on her hips, glaring down at you like a disappointed mother. Her usually immaculate hair was slightly disheveled, and you could tell by the tension in her jaw that she’s been worrying. 

“Talk to me, honey,” she said, her voice lower now. “This isn’t you. You don’t just disappear like this. What happened? Is it Rafe? Is it work? Are you back to…” her voice trailed off, but the question hanged in the air, heavy and unspoken. 

You couldn’t look at her. The shame curled in your chest, making in hard to breathe. She didn’t know. She didn’t know how badly you’ve relapsed, how badly everything felt like it was slipping out of control again. And you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Not to her. Not to anyone.

“When’s the last time you even showered? Eaten something decent? Your career’s on the line. Everything we’ve worked for is on the line. You can’t just… give up like this.”

Her words hit like slaps, each one stinging, but you still didn’t move. You couldn’t.

Nina huffed, pacing now, her frustration spilling over. “I don’t know what happened between you and Rafe, and honestly, I don’t care. But whatever it is, you don’t get to throw your life away because of it. You’re stronger than this, Y/N. I know you are. So why the hell are you letting this break you?”

You flinched at the word “break.” Because that’s what it feels like. Like you’re already broken, shattered into a million pieces, and you didn’t even know how to start putting yourself back together.

Nina crouched down in front of you, her voice softening, her eyes searching yours. “Talk to me, honey. Please. Tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”

For a moment, you almost did. You almost told her everything—the text, the relapse, the endless void you’ve been sinking into. But the words caught in your throat, choking you. What’s the point in talking when nothing will change?

You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m fine.”

Nina’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re not fine. You’re far from it. You think I haven’t seen you like this before? You’re not fooling anyone, Y/N.”

She stood, her frustration bubbling back to the surface. “You need to snap out of it. Because in five days, you’re getting engaged to Rafe Cameron, whether you like it or not. And a week after that, you’re walking down the aisle. You can’t afford to fall apart now.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on you like a lead blanket. The engagement. The wedding. The lies. It all felt so suffocating, so inevitable.

Nina crossed her arms, her voice firm. “So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to get up, you’re going to shower, and you’re going to pull yourself together. Because tomorrow, you’ve got a charity event with Rafe, and you’re going to smile for the cameras and make everyone believe that you’re still that perfect, golden girl they love.”

You wanted to scream at her, tell her you couldn't do it, that you didn't even know how to pretend anymore. But instead, you nodded numbly, sinking deeper into the fog that had settled over your mind.

Nina sighed, her voice softening again as she headed toward the door. "I'll be back tomorrow morning. And I swear, Y/N, if you're still in this state when I get here, I will personally drag you to that charity event."

The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving you alone with the weight of everything she'd just said.

You hadn’t slept. Not really. Just laid there, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out how you were supposed to pretend like everything was fine when every part of you was falling apart. You could still hear Nina’s voice in your head, telling you to pull yourself together, to be the golden girl everyone expected you to be. 

You dragged yourself out of bed, your body heavy. Your legs felt weak, and your mind feltl worse. Everything was numb, but somehow you still felt the pain. You stumbled into the bathroom, turning the water on without thinking. The cold spray hit your skin like tiny needes, and you stood there for a while, trying to let the string wake you up. But it didn’t work—you were still in that fog.

When you finally stepped out of the shower, you didn’t even bother looking in the mirror. It didn’t matter. You grabbed the first thing you saw—a plain black sweater, loose and oversized, and a pair of jeans that didn’t quite fit right anymore. You didn’t even try with your hair, just pulled it back into a bun. No makeup. What was the point? It wasn’t like anyone cared what you looked like today.

When you got to the office, the tension hit you the moment you walked through the door. Your stomach twisted as you made your way down the hallway, each step heavier than the last. You could feel your pulse in your throat, your chest tightening with every breath. You shouldn’t have cared. You shouldn’t. But as you pushed open the door to the conference room and saw him sitting there—Rafe, looking like he hadn’t been bothered by a single thing—you felt the anger bubbling up, hot and sharp.

It started as a familiar ache that had been building ever since the night he walked out of your apartment without a word. Two weeks. Fourteen days of silence. Fourteen nights spent waiting for a text that never came, hoping for even the smallest explanation, something to make sense of the hollow space he’d left behind.

Day 1. Monday, 2:42 AM

You: “Hey. Are you home? LMK, just to be safe.”

Day 2. Tuesday, 8:18 AM

You: “I’m still so confused about what happened last night, but let’s talk when you have a minute.”

Day 3. Wednesday, 5.32 PM

You: “Look, if you’re mad at me, just say it! I thought we were good, what the hell?”

Day 4. Friday, 11:04 PM

You: “It’s been days and I still don’t understand why you left like this.”

Day 5. Sunday, 3:27 PM

You: “Fuck you. I don't know why I keep texting. I know you’re seeing my texts, even though I’m on delivered. Just tell me if you’re done with this.”

Day 5. Sunday, 10:41 PM

You: “Why am I acting like I’m the one who fucked up? I didn’t do anything wrong. You left me like I was nothing, and your only explanation was a shitty rom-com excuse. I thought we were friends, Rafe.”

Day 5: Sunday, 11:36 PM

You: “I hope you rot in your shit ass apartment, but trust that I will show up to one of your stupid games with a sign that says “Small Dick Ghoster” in big, glittery letters. And I hope Chiara will hug you so hard that she’ll end up strangling you to death. Fuck you, again!”

And there he was, sitting there like none of it had happened, like you were still just strangers playing a game. His posture relaxed, that effortless confidence radiating from him, his gaze fixed on the papers in front of him, completely indifferent.

It infuriated you—the ease with which he moved on, the way he could look so composed, so completely unbothered, as if he hadn’t abandoned you in that moment when you were raw and vulnerable. Like it meant nothing. Like you meant nothing.

Every part of you screamed to confront him, to demand an explanation for the silence, the absence, the complete disregard. You could feel the hurt clawing up from your chest, tangling with the anger that burned hotter with each passing second. He was so close, but somehow, he felt miles away.

So instead, you steeled yourself, locking down the hurt, burying it beneath the anger that simmered just beneath the surface. You wouldn’t let him see the effect he had on you, wouldn’t give him the power to know just how much his absence had shattered you. No—he would get nothing from you. Not a word, not a glance, not a single sign of the turmoil raging inside you.

You walked past him without a word, each step heavy with the weight of the anger you swallowed down. Let him sit there, pretending like nothing was wrong. Let him think he could ignore you, dismiss you, erase you from his life without consequence. Because you would make sure he felt every bit of the coldness he had left you with, every ounce of the hurt he’d carved into you.

Ignoring him was the only power you had left, the only way to keep the anger from spilling over, from breaking you down entirely. And if he thought he could continue on as if the past two weeks hadn’t happened, then he was going to learn just how wrong he was.

Nicolas cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. “Hi, you two—we’ve got a lot to go over, and the timeline is tight. The engagement is in five days, and the wedding is scheduled for a week after that. So we need to finalize the details today—food, decorations, dresses, the guest list…”

You couldn’t focus. The words blurred together a dull hum in the background as you stared down at the table. Rafe said something, his voice casual, but you tuned it out. You didn’t want to hear him.

Sabrina spoke next, her tone brighter, more enthusiastic. “The audience is really enjoying you together, by the way. Ever since your date, and especially after the pictures from Kelce’s party where you two were cuddled up? People are in love with the idea of you and Rafe together. So, good job, guys.”

Your stomach churned at her words. Cuddled up. Like you were some happy couple.

“And tomorrow,” she continued. “You’ll need to make another public appearance together. It’s a charity event for cancer awareness. A perfect opportunity for more good press. The public is expecting you two to show up as the perfect couple—affectionate, in love, all of that.”

In love.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek so hard you tasted blood. This was the part where you were supposed to smile and nod, agree to hold his hand and play the role of the devoted future fiancée. But all you felt was the tension building, the weight of the lie pressing down on you until it was suffocating.

Rafe shifted in his seat, and you could feel his eyes on you, but you still didn’t look at him. Rafe felt an uneasy twist in his stomach. You looked… different. Disheveled, almost. Your sweater hung losely over your shoulders, practically swallowing your frame, and he could see dark shadows under your eyes that hadn’t been there before. You seemed smaller somehow, your usual energy muted, replaced by something tense and fragile.

Rafe’s gaze dropped to your hands, noticing how your fingers fidgeted restlessly, twisting and tugging at your sleeves. Your leg was bouncing under the table, tapping out an anxious rhythm that only he seemed to notice. Every small movement, every nervous habit—you looked like you were holding yourself back, like there was something simmering beneath the surface, ready to break free.

You still hadn’t looked at him, hadn’t given him a single glance, and that bothered him more than he wanted to admit. You’d been messaging him, and he’d been… well, avoiding it, convincing himself it was for the best. But seeing you now, seeing the wear and tear he’d left behind, he couldn’t shake the guilt.

Rafe’s chest tightened. He’d expected you to be angry, maybe annoyed. But this? You looked worn down, frayed at the edges, like you've been carrying a weight no one else could see.

You didn’t remember most of the details they were talking about. Your mind drifted in and out of focus as they went on about the guest list, the food, the decorations. All you heard were words—dresses, flowers, venues. None of it felt real. It was as if you were watching someone else’s life unfold in front of you, just sitting there, an outsider in your own story.

“The wedding will be televised, of course,” Sabrina says, flipping through her notes, her eyes gleaming with the excitement of it all. “And with a full press presence. We want every detail to reflect both of your public personas. Elegant, grand, but also with an intimate, personal feel—something that tells a story about who you both are.”

Who we were. I almost laughed at the irony. I didn't even know who I was right now, much less who we were.

“We were thinking of something grand but elegant. A modern luxury wedding. White roses, lots of gold accents. Maybe something at the estate in the Hamptons?”

You glanced at the board, at all the glossy, pristine images of weddings that could belong to anyone. None of them felt like you.

“Do you have any preferences?” Sabrina asked, smiling like this is the most exciting conversation in the world. “Colors, themes, anything that’s important to you?”

"Actually," you finally broke your silence, your voice coming out quietly, but the words landing heavily in the room. "I’d like the ceremony to reflect... my background." You could feel Rafe's eyes on you again, but for once, you didn’t care. This wasn’t about him.

Sabrina blinked, taken aback, but she quickly nodded, jotting down notes as if she were open to whatever you had in mind. "Of course, that could be beautiful. Were you thinking about specific details?"

You hesitated for a moment, uncertain if they’d take you seriously, but you pressed on. "Yes. The colors… the decorations. I want there to be vibrant colors—not just whites and pastels, but deep greens, maroons, and gold. The way we’d have them back home. And for the flowers… jasmine and roses. That’s what we use for weddings where I’m from. I want it to feel like... like part of my heritage."

Nicolas raised an eyebrow, as if he hadn’t expected you to care about any of this. But he just nodded, his pen moving across his notepad. "We can definitely arrange that. A traditional, multicultural theme would add a unique touch to the event, I think. It’ll definitely resonate with the press and the viewers."

You didn’t care if it resonated. It wasn’t for them—it was for you, a sliver of authenticity in this whole farce.

Then Sabrina’s voice broke into your thoughts. "And of course, the dress. Have you given any thought to what you want? Or would you like us to arrange for a stylist to go over options with you?"

Your heart twisted at the mention of the dress. The one thing you’d always imagined as a girl—the dress you’d wear at your own wedding. Only, you’d never thought it would be for this.

"I’d like to include some of my culture there too," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe... a fusion. Something elegant and modern but with hints of traditional South Asian bridal elements. Like embroidery or... beadwork. Maybe even henna if it wouldn’t look out of place."

Sabrina seemed to light up at the idea. "That would be stunning. We can definitely work with that! I know several designers who specialize in fusing traditional and contemporary styles."

She was still talking, but the air around you felt thicker, as though the room was closing in. You could sense Rafe’s gaze without even looking at him, the weight of his silence pressing into you.

You zoned out again, your mind wandering back to the last wedding you attended. The colors, the music, the way the bride’s lehenga shimmered under the sun as she walked down the aisle. You’d always thought your wedding would be like that—full of life and celebration, surrounded by people who loved you.

Instead, you were planning a wedding for the cameras, for people who didn’t know you.

The sudden, sharp knock on the door cut through the stillness like a jolt of cold water. Your head shot up from the pillow, heart hammering in your chest. For a moment, the world felt like it was still. The quiet of your apartment, the thick fog still clouding your thoughts. You didn’t want to get up. You didn’t want to face the world outside of this bed, this cocoon of emptiness you’d wrapped yourself in for days.

Another knock, this one louder, more demanding.

“Y/N!” Nina’s voice came through the door, sharp and impatient. “You better not still be in bed, because I swear—”

The door swung open before you could even make a sound, Nina storming in, wearing the same determined, unbothered expression she always had when she was on a mission. You tried to bury your face back into the pillow, but she wasn’t having it. Her hand reached down, grabbing the covers and yanking them off with force. You shivered as the cold air hit your skin, the warmth of the blankets yanked away along with any shred of comfort you’d been clinging to.

“Get up.” Nina wasn’t asking. She was commanding. “You’ve got a charity event today, and Rafe is already at the venue. We don’t have time for your pity party.”

You squinted at her, still half-wrapped in your sheets like a burrito, and mumbled from underneath the pillow, “Can’t you just… I don’t know… handle it for me? Go in my place. You’d look great in a gown.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I’d look amazing, but you and I both know I don’t have that kind of charisma.”

“True,” you admitted, peeking out from under the pillow. 

Nina raised her hands in mock surrender. “Exactly. Now, up. I’m not playing with you today.”

Before you could even protest, she yanked the covers off you with a dramatic flourish, leaving you to shiver in nothing but your oversized T-shirt. It was a miracle you didn’t roll off the bed in the process.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go.” Nina didn’t wait for you to even get a grip on reality before heading straight for your closet, rummaging through your clothes like she was on a mission. “You’re going to look so good today that Rafe might just start thinking you actually like him.”

You shot her a glare that could’ve frozen water, but she just smirked, tossing a black dress onto the bed like she was some fashion fairy sent to save you from yourself.

“I’m not going,” you said flatly.

“Oh, yes, you are.” Nina threw a matching pair of heels onto the bed with the same casual flick of the wrist she used to dismiss your protests. “Because you will look stunning, and you will show up.”

You sat up slowly, rubbing your face. “What is it with you people? Why does everyone keep trying to drag me out of bed? It’s like I’m the world’s most reluctant celebrity.”

“Because you are.” Nina grinned, holding up your dress like she was presenting the Holy Grail. “But, hey, guess what? You’re really good at it. So stop sulking and get your glam on. You’re the star of the show today.”

You let out a theatrical sigh. “Oh, joy.”

Nina didn’t even flinch. “I’m not asking for a performance. Just put on the damn dress and show up. You can pretend to be miserable, and I’ll pretend I’m not a miracle worker for getting you out of here.”

You hesitated for just a moment, then dragged yourself out of bed with a grunt. “Fine.”

“Oh, by the way, Aisha’s going to be there. She practically begged me to make sure you show.”

Your eyes snapped open. Aisha Patel. Your best friend and, quite honestly, the only person in your life who could drag you out of bed with a single text. She’s been your best friend since you’d arrived in the States. She’d been away for five months—longer than ever before—working on some high-profile project in Switzerland. You hadn’t seen her in ages.

“You’re kidding,” you mumbled, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “Aisha’s coming?”

Nina smiled smugly. “Yep. She’s flown back for the event. Can you imagine the drama if you don’t show up? She’ll never let you live it down.”

You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips. “God, I missed her.”

“Me too,” Nina said, her voice softening for just a second. “But you still have to get up. Like now.”

You looked at the dress Nina had already picked out, a sleek white gown that somehow made you feel both glamorous and like you were about to attend a royal gala. “Fine. I’m up. I’m dressed.”

Nina, who was already rummaging through your closet like a pro, grinned. “You look absolutely beautiful, honey,” she noticed your weight loss but decided to not speak on it, in fear it’ll make you relapse… if only she knew. “Chiara’s also going to be there...”

You froze, the mention of Chiara Romano sending a cold shiver down your spine. You’d told Nina everything about the Chiara encounter—her subtle digs, the way she made you feel like you were just another passing phase in Rafe’s life. She’d made things uncomfortable enough at Kelce’s party, and now you had to face her again?

“What? Fucking why?”

“Her father’s the one running the whole damn event,” she explained. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of her or her family because they’re pretty famous, especially in the entertainment and events world. So, get ready for a day full of small talk, fake smiles, and people who will pry into your private life.”

You sighed. “How perfect is that?”

You stood in front of the mirror, trying to shake off the heavy weight of everything swirling in your head. You glanced at the clock. You were running out of time.

You reached for your hair tie, pulling it through your tangled locks. Your hair had grown longer than you remembered, and you decided to tie it up in a messy, yet elegant bun—one that would allow a few soft, curly strands to escape and frame your face. It was casual but chic—classic you. You let a few strands fall loosely, giving the bun a less formal, more effortless vibe. After a moment of satisfaction, you moved on to the makeup.

A soft, dewy glow covered your skin, nothing too dramatic. You didn’t want to feel caked in layers today, just enough to enhance your features. You applied a touch of blush to your cheeks, just a hint, to keep the look fresh. A thin line of mascara lengthened your lashes, and your signature lip combo was the finishing touch. Simple. Comfortable.

As you turned to check yourself one last time, you heard Nina's voice from the other room.

“Y/N! We need to go now. Rafe's texting me and he’s getting antsy. He’s apparently already at the event!”

You sighed, feeling the familiar rush of anxiety settle into your stomach. The mirror reflected a version of you that was ready for the world, but the world, especially tonight, wasn’t ready for this version of you. But as the pressure of the event built up, you couldn’t deny the uncertainty gnawing at you.

When you made your way into the living room, Nina was pacing, her phone glued to her ear. She shot you a quick, approving glance. “Looking good. Let’s go.”

As you grabbed your clutch, ready to face whatever tonight had in store, the doorbell rang. Your heart skipped a beat. Was it Aisha? Maybe she’d arrived early, wanting to meet up before the event?

But when you opened the door, your breath caught.

Standing in the doorway wasn’t Aisha.

It was Rafe.

He was in a suit—sharp, looking like he belonged in a magazine ad for high-end fashion—but his eyes, dark and intense, held something more than just a desire to impress. He had the look of a man who knew he had messed up.

His words hit you before you could even process them. “You look stunning. I wanted to make sure you’re okay... before all this.” The sincerity in his voice made your heart thump a little faster, and you hated yourself for it.

The words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stood there, blinking at him. You hadn’t expected him to show up—especially not with that kind of intensity in his eyes.

You exhaled slowly, your arms instinctively crossing over your chest, your posture defensive. The audacity of this guy.

“Really?” You scoffed, trying to mask the vulnerability creeping up your spine with sharp sarcasm. “Now you care?”

Rafe seemed to falter at that, but he quickly recovered, taking a small step closer, but not enough to make you feel cornered. “I’ve always cared, Y/N. You know that.” His voice was quieter this time, and the sincerity in his eyes almost made your resolve crack.

“Do I?” you shot back, stepping out of the doorway and giving him a once-over, your gaze icy. “Because you sure had a funny way of showing it.”

Rafe winced, a flash of guilt flickering in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tight. “I messed up, okay? I should’ve reached out. I didn’t know what to say, but I should’ve just... shown up.”

You rolled your eyes, the anger simmering beneath your skin rising again. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, not from the sight of him, but from the frustration that had been building over the past two weeks. “You didn’t know what to say? You think showing up fixes two weeks of silence? Just like that?”

He took a step forward, his face tightening, as though he was bracing himself for a confrontation. "I wasn’t sure what to do," he said, his voice lowering. "I thought... maybe you needed space. I thought if I gave you time, it would be better." He ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear in his expression. “I was trying to do the right thing.”

You stared at him for a long moment, the audacity of his words settling like a lump in your throat. “Space?” you asked, your voice low, incredulous. “You thought ghosting me for two weeks would give me space?” 

Rafe’s face twisted in guilt, but it didn’t matter. You weren��t going to let him off the hook.

“Did you at least see my texts?” you demanded, anger rising in your throat.

"Y/N, you’re needed at the car right now!" Nina called, stopping Rafe in his tracks of answering. Before you could walk away, Rafe reached out, his hand closing around your wrist, pulling you back gently.

"Wait," he murmured, his thumb brushing your skin.

You stared up at Rafe, your breath caught in your throat, uncertainty swirling in your chest. The air between you two felt charged, a thousand unspoken questions hanging in the balance. Your pulse was racing, but before you could voice any of them, Nina practically shoved you both into the elevator. Her hand pressed the button for the ground floor as she threw your heels at you, the sharp click of the stilettos punctuating the tension.

You caught them on instinct. The elevator descended, and your mind was still spiraling, trying to piece together what the hell was happening. What the fuck—this distance between you and Rafe? 

But just as the elevator doors opened, the sound of a familiar car door slamming outside caught your attention. A quiet thud, followed by the sound of heels clicking against pavement. Your instincts were on alert, an uneasy feeling crawling under your skin.

And when you turned to look, you saw someone stepping out of the car.

Someone who shouldn’t be here.

“I was wondering when we’d get the chance to catch up.”

chapter seven

[im-so-normal-iswear]

Hi, I want to request a headcanon with SSS, with a human!reader (separately, this is not poly), reader is a friend of the trinity, based on this, reader has feelings for the trinity, but because reader is a human, and they are meanwhile mobians, she thinks that she is not attracted to them, since she is a human, and mobians may have different standards of beauty, plus, she does not want to seem like a pervert in their eyes, and ruin their friendship, but somehow SSS finds out about the reader's feelings, and they begin dating. Thanks in advance if you write 💙❤️🤍

A/n: my head hurts, sorry for posting this so late

triple s x Human!Reader

Sonic:

You had been friends with Sonic for years. From the moment you met him, you knew he was special, not just because of his speed or heroics but because of the way he made everything feel more exciting. He was a whirlwind of energy, always dragging you along on adventures, cracking jokes, and treating you like you were just as capable as any of his other friends.

But deep down, there was something you harbored, something that gnawed at you whenever he flashed that confident aura your way. You had feelings for him.

It wasn't supposed to happen. He was a Mobian, and you were human. Surely, his kind had different standards of beauty. Maybe Mobians found humans ugly? Off putting? The last thing you wanted was for Sonic to see you as some weirdo who had inappropriate thoughts about one of his kind.

You convinced yourself it wasn't possible, that he'd never see you the way you saw him. So, you swallowed your feelings and stayed his loyal friend, even when your heart ached to be more.

But Sonic wasn't oblivious. He knows a thing or two about crushes (being around amy is already more than enough to teach him) he noticed the way your eyes lingered when he was in vicinity, how your laugh was just a bit too strained when he teased you, he saw the way your shoulders tensed when he got too close. Sonic wasn't the type to ignore his instincts, and his gut told him something was up.

One day, after an especially intense adventure, the two of you collapsed onto a grassy hill, panting and laughing. The sunset cast a golden glow over you both, and sonic, never one for subtlety, turned to you with a smirk.

"You know, you've been acting weird around me lately," he said, propping himself up on his elbow. "Something on your mind?"

Your stomach twisted. This was it. The moment you dreaded.

"I... it's nothing," you forced a chuckle, looking anywhere but at him. "Just tired, I guess."

Sonic wasn't buying it. "Come on, you can tell me anything, y'know? We're friends!"

And that was the problem, wasn't it?

The words came out before you could stop them. "That’s exactly why I can't tell you."

Sonic blinked, caught off guard. His ears twitched, processing your words before a slow grin spread across his face. "Wait a sec... do you like me?"

Your heart stopped. Your face burned. You shot up in panic. "No! I mean- yes! I meant- ugh!" You groaned, covering your face. "This is exactly what I didn't want! I didnt want to make things weird, because your movian and im... Human..."

Sonic was silent for a moment, but then he started laughing. Not cruelly, not mockingly, just his usual, carefree laugh. "Wow, and here I thought I was the dense one!"

You peeked between your fingers. "...Huh?"

He leaned back, hands behind his head. "You seriously thought I wouldn't be into you just because you're human?" He turned to you, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Newsflash, I don't care about that. You're you, and that's what matters."

Your heart stopped. "You mean... you?"

Sonic grinned. "Yeah, I like you, dummy."

Your world tilted. The worries, the doubts, the fear of being seen as some creepy human crushing on a Mobian, all of it evaporated in an instant. Before you could even process it, Sonic was already standing, holding out a hand.

"Now that that's outta the way, how 'bout a date? Maybe a race, loser buys chili dogs?"

You laughed, shaking your head as you took his hand. "I’m going to regret this, aren't I?"

Sonic just smirked. "Oh, definitely."

And just like that, your fears faded away.

Shadow:

Loving Shadow was a quiet kind of torture.

Shadow was... different. He was distant yet ever-present. You weren't even sure how you had become friends with him, Shadow didn't really have many friends after all. But somehow, after some time, you had earned a place in his life.

That was bad.

Because along the way, you had fallen for him.

And that was unacceptable.

Shadow wasn't the type to tolerate foolishness, and what was more foolish than a human harboring feelings for a Mobian? It didn't matter that your heart flipped every time he stood close, that your skin tingled when his gloved hand brushed against yours, or that his rare smirks made your knees weak. It didn't matter, because you were human, and he wasn't.

He could never see you that way.

But Shadow wasn't blind. He saw how you hesitated when he got too close, how your heart rate spiked when he addressed you. Shadow didn't believe in coincidences, and he wasn't one to ignore anomalies, especially not when they involved you.

One evening, after a particularly grueling mission, he cornered you.

"You're avoiding me."

You answered quick, "I'm not avoiding you."

"Lying doesn't suit you," he said, stepping closer. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Shadow. Drop it."

He didn't. Of course he didn't.

"Tell me the truth." His voice was less intense now.

You looked away. "I can't."

Silence stretched between you. Then, so quietly you almost didn't hear it.

"You think I wouldn't want you because you're human."

Your entire body froze. Your eyes snapped to him. "...What?"

His expression was unreadable, but his gaze burned into you. "You think I wouldn't reciprocate." He took another step forward. "You're wrong."

"I... I don't understand."

Shadows eyes softened, just a fraction. "I don't care about species. I care about strength, about loyalty, about who someone is at their core." He paused. "I care about you."

Your world tilted. The fear, the doubt, the self-imposed barriers, they all shattered in an instant.

Shadow reached out, hesitating for only a second before brushing a hand against your cheek. "You're important to me," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "If you feel the same... I won't run from it."

Tears pricked your eyes. "I thought I wasn’t enough."

"You are," he said firmly. "Always."

And just like that, the walls crumbled.

Silver:

You never meant to fall for Silver.

He had been your friend for so long, always bright eyed and hopeful, always treating you like you were the most important person in the world. He was gentle in ways others weren't, encouraging you when you doubted yourself, listening intently to your dreams, and never making you feel like an outsider despite being a human in a world full of Mobians.

Maybe that's why it hurt so much.

Because even though you cared for him, even though your heart raced when he smiled at you, even though you wanted so badly to take his hand in yours, you couldn't.

He was a Mobian. You were human.

Mobians probably had different beauty standards. What if you were ugly to him? What if you confessed and he was disgusted? Worse, what if he pitied you?

Silver was too kind to outright reject you in a cruel way. He'd probably give you an awkward smile, say something about how he "values you as a friend," and then things would never be the same. You couldn't risk it.

So, you buried your feelings.

You let him ramble about the future, let him take your hand when he was excited, let him hug you when he was happy, all the while pretending that it didn't tear you apart inside.

But Silver wasn't stupid. Naive? Yes. Oblivious? Sometimes. But when it came to you, he always paid close attention.

One day, after an exhausting mission, the two of you sat on the edge of a cliff, watching the sky shift from orange to deep purple. The air was cool, and Silver, without thinking,rested his head on you.

Your heart stopped.

"You've been weird lately," he murmured, eyes on the horizon.

You swallowed hard. "I don't know what you mean."

Silver lifted his head, looking up at you with soft curiosity. "You don't talk to me the same way anymore. You don't look me in the eyes as much. Did I do something wrong?"

Guilt twisted in your gut. "No! You didn't do anything wrong, I just..."

"Just what?" He tilted his head, eyes shining with concern.

You couldn't tell him. You couldn't risk losing this.

But then Silver reached out, fingers brushing against yours, hesitant but warm. "You can tell me anything, y'know?"

The sincerity in his voice broke you.

"I like you," you blurted, eyes squeezing shut. "I’ve liked you for so long, but I thought-" You inhaled sharply. "I thought I wasn't right for you. Im human. You're Mobian. What if I'm... what if I'm not attractive to you? What if I ruin everything?"

For a second, there was silence.

Then-

"You idiot."

Your eyes flew open, as you turned towards him. Silver's face was flushed, ears twitching, hands gripping yours tightly.

"You think I care about any of that?" he huffed, voice shaking. "Do you even know how much I like you?"

Your breath caught. "You-"

"Yes!" He groaned, running a hand down his face. "I thought you didn't see me that way! I thought I was being weird for liking a human, but I didn't care because it's you! I don't care about species or looks or any of that stuff! I just wanted to be with you!"

Tears pricked your eyes. "Silver-"

"You're the most amazing person I’ve ever met," he continued, voice cracking slightly. "You're kind, strong, and you always make me feel like I belong. Do you really think I'd let something as stupid as species get in the way of that?"

You let out a shaky laugh, overwhelmed. "I'm the idiot, huh?"

Silver smiled, soft and warm. "The biggest."

And then, hesitantly, he leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. His hands squeezed yours, his tail flicking behind him.

"Can I...?" he whispered, breath warm against your lips.

You nodded.

And then, finally, Silver closed the distance

A/n: i dont know how to describe kissing, im sorry