#the way he just wants to be there for her supporting her in every way he can

[fastandcarlos]

First Newborn Moments : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: the first moments for you both after the emotional arrival of your daughter

No words could describe how you felt as your eyes glanced down to the little girl in your arms, everything that you had ever wanted. Charles was sat by your side, leaning across with wide eyes, studying the features of your daughter in awe. 

“Can you believe it?” You whispered across to Charles, unable to hide the smile on your face. “She’s just so perfect, so small, and beautiful, more than I could’ve ever imagined.” 

Charles nodded in agreement with you, brushing his hand over the top of her head. He didn’t know where to look as he took it all in, her brown eyes, the little dimple in her cheek, the way her mouth was slightly parted as she slept, it was all too much like a dream. 

“I feel like someone’s going to come in soon and wake me up,” Charles spoke, “tell me this is all some sort of dream, I feel so lucky right now to have all of this.” 

“I promise you that it’s all real,” you whispered, resting your head down against Charles’ shoulder. 

It was the moment the two of you had talked about for so long during your pregnancy, wondering how it would be and how overwhelmed you’d feel. Neither of you had prepared yourselves for quite how incredible it would feel though to finally have your daughter with you. 

“Can we swap for a moment?” Charles asked, desperate to have a hold of your daughter too. You nodded, watching as he nervously stretched his arms out to take her. “What do I do?” He grinned as you placed her down, scared for you to let go and let him hold her alone. 

“Just make sure you support her, body and head,” you told him, placing his hands exactly where they needed to be before letting go. “See, you’re a natural.” 

As you moved away, Charles’ eyes were still full of worry, slowly bringing her in towards his chest. “She looks so frail and tiny, like she could break at any moment. I can’t believe I’m actually trusted to take care of such a little human being.” 

Charles had made no secret of the fact that he was scared, terrified of messing up or doing the wrong thing. You’d spent many late nights wide awake talking about his worries together, with you constantly being on hand to reassure him, reminding Charles that you both would be learning for some time, after all, no parent was perfect. 

Your smile was wide as your eyes stayed with Charles, admiring how fondly he looked down at her. “She’s already relaxed in her daddy’s arms; you must be doing something right.” 

“Beginner’s luck,” Charles sniggered, momentarily looking up and across at you. “I can’t wait for everyone to get here later, my brothers are going to crazy when they see how beautiful she is, they’re already slightly obsessed.” 

“She has no idea how lucky she is, does she?” You chuckled, watching as your daughter’s eyes fluttered shut. “She’s got the most loving family in the world, and yet she’s got absolutely no idea who any of us actually are yet.” 

Charles leant across and pressed a kiss against the side of your head. “I’m going to make sure that she grows up knowing exactly how incredible you are and how hard your body just worked to bring her into this world,” he proudly told you. 

To say things didn’t quite go as well as you expected was an understatement, labour had been nothing short of a nightmare for you both. It had left Charles terrified, constantly wondering what was going to happen as midwives ran around you until your daughter arrived. 

“I wish I could sleep like this,” Charles chuckled, “without a single care in the world.” 

“I feel like I could sleep as well as she is right now, I’m absolutely exhausted.” 

Charles’ concerned eyes immediately looked across at you, weakly smiling as he met your eyes. He could tell how sore you were, even if you weren’t going to admit it, wanting to savour every moment that you could of having your daughter there with you. 

A sigh came from Charles as you let go of a yawn, trying your best to disguise it behind your hand. “Why don’t you rest? I’ll wake you if anything happens,” Charles suggested, nodding in the direction of the pillow behind you. “You need to be looking after yourself right now, you’re just as important as this one is.” 

“I’ll get some rest soon, I promise. I mean, we should probably get used to the lack of sleep now, right?” 

A quiet chuckle came from Charles, not wanting to disturb your daughter. His worried eyes still watched you, only relaxing when you propped yourself up and rested in the bed again, stretching your legs out to try and wake your body back up again. 

“I can’t wait to take this one to the paddock, show her all the cool things that her daddy gets up to.” 

Your smile was wide as Charles’ eyes lit up, excited for all the things he had to look forward to with her. “She’s going to be absolutely spoilt by everyone at that paddock, I think you’ll be a forgotten man when we take her, no one will want to pay any attention to you, just to her.” 

“I wouldn’t mind,” Charles proudly shrugged. “Just as long as she knows that no matter how much anyone in that paddock tells her they love her, they don’t love her anywhere near as much as we do.” 

“Trust me, with the way I know you’re going to spoil her, she’s definitely going to be a daddy’s girl,” you teased, resting your hand against Charles’ shoulder. “I can already tell from the look in your eye that our little girl is going to have you absolutely wrapped around her little finger.” 

Charles nodded, there was no doubt about it that your little girl was his new weakness, knowing that he would never be able to say no to her. 

He couldn’t believe what he did to get so lucky, not just to have his daughter, but you as well. It was the sort of thing Charles always dreamt about, but knew would probably never come true. Only for him, it did, and it was better than he could have ever imagined. 

As your daughter settled, Charles leant over once again and pressed a kiss against your shoulder. “Thank you,” he whispered, taking you by surprise. “Thank you for everything, for loving me, taking care of me, and giving me the greatest gift in the world. Nothing will ever be good enough to show you how appreciative I am that you’ve just made me a dad.” 

Your smile was wide as you glanced back across at Charles, “you don’t need to thank me Charles. I should be thanking you for being here, right by my side, and getting me through the last nine months. I love you.” 

“I love you too, more than you’ll ever know.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[no-144444]

guilt tripping- o.piastri

summary: oscar asks something of you that you know you can't do. you do it anyway and it ends in you two almost breaking up. almost.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! chronic illness! reader

a/n: hey yall, I just broke two ribs (lol) and got diagnosed with a chronic illness (lmao) so I might not be posting as frequently- just dealing with it physically and mentally so yah 😹

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“I don’t know if I can go,” you sighed, feeling even worse. 

“That’s alright,” he assured you, but you could hear the way his excitement depleted and his mood lowered. 

“M-maybe I can work something out, I don’t want to leave you alone,” your guilt grew everyday, this wasn’t healthy for either of you. 

“I don’t want you over-exerting yourself,” he spoke softly into the phone. “I’ll just ask mum if she has any friends that want to go or something. She always brings a million people with her.”

“I don’t want to leave you hanging Oscar. Melbourne is a big race. I’d be happy to come over like a week before, and then come to the race once I’ve had a few days to heal,” you bargained. A 22 hour connecting flight was not something you’d ever wanted to do. You couldn’t do it. You knew the pain would be too bad, yet you still stood there, offering it anyway. “And then I’d come for the race on Sunday, or just small bits on all the days.”

“Really?” his voice picked up, excited now. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure Osc, I love seeing you race,” your smile was more of a grimace than anything, but still, the guilt in your chest lessened as you listened to Oscar speak animatedly about the race weekend, while your anxiety ran through the roof. You couldn’t do all the things he wanted you to do, you never could. This had been a problem at the beginning of your relationship, every time he’d plan a date that wasn���t dinner or a movie, you’d have to break the news that a 15 kilometre hike wasn’t something you’d be able to do on a whim. Things like that took planning, physio, and preparation. Your chronic illness was no joke, and had limited you since you were a teenager. In the past few years he’d gotten much better at everything, from helping you with your physio exercises, attending pilates classes with you, knowing what to do on bad pain days, and always looking out for you in public. You knew he was just getting away with himself, and you didn't want to disappoint, so you agreed to it all, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t be a bad week of pain or flare-ups wise. 

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You got into Melbourne and sobbed when you got in the car. Thankfully, it was Hattie picking you up, so she just held your hand as you silently cried, the joint and too much to bear. You went straight to bed as Hattie explained to the rest of the house that you were exhausted, and Oscar took it at face value. You usually get extremely tired after long days, and you’d just had a 22-hour day of travel. 

“I’ll go check on her-” he started, desperate to see you but Hattie cut him off. 

“NO!” she squeaked, trying to not sound suspicious. Oscar raised an eyebrow. “She’s really tired and she’s already gone to sleep.”

“Yeah, well I’m tired so I’m going to bed,” he explained, stretching then yawning. 

“Osc,” Hattie sighed, knowing she had to tell him. “She’s not… alright. She can’t do 22 hour travel days like you or I can. She has Lupus and she’s still trying to figure out her medication, so it hurts all the time. She cried from the airport to here, all to support you because you asked her to, and she feels guilty every single time she can’t say yes. She’s done real damage to herself by coming here. I want you to understand that, do you understand that?” 

Oscar nodded, because the other option was breaking down into tears. Yes, he’d felt guilty that he couldn’t be there to take care of you while travelling, and he knew he was asking a lot of you when he asked. The guilt settled deep in his stomach and made him nauseous, but still he continued on to his bedroom where you were sleeping peacefully. He could see the puffy eyes, the red nose, the open bottles of medication on the nightstand. He wrapped an arm around your waist, another in your hair and pulled you as close as possible, whispering teary sorrys into your ear. 

When you woke up the next morning, you knew what you had to do. This wasn’t fair on either of you, and you needed to make a change. You quickly (but silently) got up, and started to leave the room, but Oscar grabbed ahold of your hand before you could leave. 

“Please don’t sneak out on me,” he begged, sitting up. He looked wrecked, puffy eyes, red rose- had he been crying? God, had you made him cry? 

“Osc, what’s wrong?” you asked, concern clear as day on your face as you cupped his face with your hands.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I knew I was asking too much when I asked you to come here, I’m so sorry.”

Your heart tightened in your chest. “Osc, I’m alright, I was just tired last night and-”

“Hattie told me,” his voice was deep, deeper than usual, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your hand. “And I’m so sorry.”

“Osc, I could’ve said no if I didn’t think I was able for it,” you tried to reassure him but he shook his head. 

“Y/n, you did say no and I didn’t take it as an answer,” he scoffed. 

You were stunned into silence. “I think we need to have a talk about us, Osc.”

He nodded, taking your hands in his. 

“This isn’t fair on you. I know I can't control my illness, and neither can you. It sucks, but it’s a fact. I wish I could be there for every single race and cheer you on with the other girls, but I can’t. It’s not in the cards for me right now, and I don’t know when it will be. Oscar, I love you so much, and you’ve been with me through everything and I know you deserve someone who can always be there for you, and I’m not that person right now. I love you but I know it’s not enough,” You finally looked at him and he was biting his lip as tears streamed down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and stood up, dropping your hands as he paced his bedroom. “You know how much I love you, don’t you?” he asked and you nodded as you held back more tears. “So you know that I still feel your support even when we’re in different time zones or on different continents, right? You know that I value you being in as little pain as possible more than being at the barricade after a race, right? You know that I fucking love you more than I love racing, right? Y/n, I’ve been here the entire time, since we were 14 years old. You’re the reason I get in the car, you make me better, all the time it’s just you. I plan on being with you for my whole life, Y/n. I want to be there for everything. I plan to sit there through every appointment about medication until you find the one that actually helps you, I plan on being there for every day where you don’t feel up to it, I plan on being there for you, always. I never want to let go of you, and yeah, it is nice to be able to see you after a race, and I know that because fucking facetime exists. If you still want to break up because I fucked up by asking you to come here, go ahead, but don’t ever think that I’m without because I’m with you. I am so in love with you, Y/n. I mean it. I want to marry you one day, I want a family with you, I want to be old with you so we get to reminisce on the good ol’ days and make some more while we have time. ‘The good ol’ days’ will be the days I spend with you. More than any race win, more than any trophy, or than anything. My favourite part about a race weekend is coming home because I know no matter what my result was, you’ll be there with open arms, loving me anyways. You’re more than enough for me.”

You crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him, crying into his hoodie as he held you. “I love you too.”

After a few moments of both of you calming down, he finally spoke. “Can you forgive me for being such an asshole?” he asked, wiping his eyes. 

You nodded, a small smile on your face. “I can, can you forgive me for being such an idiot?”

He chuckled. “You’re no idiot,” he picked you up and gently placed you back on the bed lying beside you. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[justmymindandstuff]

sweetest flame - Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: Alicent invites to a gathering in the Red Keep. Aemond usually hates these kinds of distractions, but today is different. He knows you will be there. Now he just needs enough courage to talk to you.

words: 2.815

warnings: none

AO3 // English is not my first language// not proofread// hope you have fun with this little Aemond fic. 🧡

request are open // main masterlist// hotd masterlist

Aemond sits in his chambers, tapping his foot on the floor. He is waiting for his mother. Every passing minute increases his nervousness. His palms are slightly sweaty, and he wipes them on his pants. Pull yourself together! His chamber doors opens and Alicent enters the chambers of her younger son.

Her expression is a bit tense, and Aemond realizes that she is mentally prepared for a discussion. She believes that he will only attend today's feast under protest. Aemond sometimes thinks that his mother forgets that he is not like Aegon. Aemond knows his duties. Alicents gaze passes over him.

Aemond becomes uncertain for a moment. He didn't put on the clothes that Alicent had chosen for him, yet he is dressed in one of his better attires. Maybe even a bit too fancy for this occasion. Maybe he should have worn what his mother had picked out after all?

"Are you ready?" she asks after a moment, smiling warmly.

This evening, a small celebration is taking place. Viserys had summoned a few of the Lords from the Reach and the Stormlands to King's Landing to discuss a new tax system. These Lords, and especially their wives, need to be taken care of. Alicent despises this kind of distraction. She could use her time more wisely. Nevertheless, it is her duty as Queen to entertain the guests. And as prince and princess, it is her children's duty to support her in this.

"Yes, Mother." Aemond rises from his chair and goes to his mother. Together, the two walk through the halls of the Red Keep to the nursery. At his hip his sword clinks with every step. He holds himself upright and proud. Ser Christon had allowed him to wear real steel on his belt only a few days ago.

The door to the nursery opens. Helaena and the governesses take care of the twins.

Aemond goes to his sister and picks up Jaehaera. His niece babbles happily and reaches for his hand. Aemond can't help but smile.

"Where is Aegon?" Alicent asks after a brief glance.

"I don't know. Not here," replies Helaena shrugging her shoulders.

"It was clear he would slip away," says Aemond. Aegon has the talent to disappear whenever he is faced with an obligation he doesn't like. None of his siblings expected him to attend this celebration today. Where Aegon is today is not important to Aemond.

"Come on now," urges Alicent, clapping in her hands. "The guests are waiting."

Aemond kisses Jaehaera's forehead before he says goodbye and hands her back to her nursemaid.

The little family makes their way to the festival hall.

"I expect the best behavior from you. The Lords are already irritable because of the increased taxes." Aemond doesn't care about that. For today, there is only one thing that matters. He feels his palms getting sweaty again. Aemond takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself down. Now is not the right time. The assembled Lords and Ladies bow before the royal family before the music resumes and the celebration continues.

"Behave yourselves. And remember. We are a family. One unit." Alicent reminds once more.

Aemond nods seriously. He knows that it is important to appear as a family at court. No matter what disputes are happening inside their house. The Targaryen dynasty must appear united to the outside world. But he doesn't have the head for all these problems right now.

Aemond lets his gaze sweep over the people. But he does not see what he wants to see.

"In the back rightside." Helaena suddenly whispers next to him.

Aemond's head snaps to her. His older sister smiles knowing, then links arms with their mothers and follwos her to the guests.

Aemond turns his head. For a second, he fears Helaena has made fun of him. But then he sees you.

You stand between your sisters and listen to the conversation. Dressed in an elegant gown in the colors of your house. Your hair falls freely over your shoulders, with only a bit of jewelry keeping some strands out of your face. You laugh at something your sisters said, and Aemond's heart skips a beat at the sight. How would it react if you would smile at him?

You arrived at the Red Keep five days ago. Your father followed the King's summons to King's Landing and, of course, brought all his unmarried daughters with him. Just like all the other lords. The Red Keep is filled with beautiful young Ladies. Normally that annoys Aemond. He was busy with training when you and your family arrived. When you got out of the carriage and he saw you for the first time, he almost tripped over his own feet. Criston's next sword strike hit him directly. His shoulder still hurts a little, the bruise is still there.

He has never seen anyone so beautiful. Aemond couldn't take his eyes off you. You on the other hand didn't even notice him.

Since that moment, Aemond can't get you out of his head. He constantly thinks about you. He is constantly looking for you. If he catches a glimpse of you, his day gets instantly better.

He just hasn't gathered enough courage to talk to you yet. Aegon has already made fun of Aemond. But he doesn't care. His brother doesn't know what he's talking about anyway.

Aemond notices how his hands are getting sweaty again. Nights long he has pondered about what to say to you. How he should speak to you. But now that an opportunity has come, his mind is blank. He looks around and waves over a servant who hands him a glass of wine. He can drink to gain a little courage, but the rest he has to find within himself.

It wasn't hard to find out your name. But he couldn't find out anything about your interests through Keep Gossip. You like to stay with your sisters.

One of the young Lords approaches you and your sisters. A feeling of unease spreads through Aemond as you speak with him. A smile from you and the young lord begins to turn red. Aemond would most like to stab him with his sword.

Gods, what's wrong with him? He hasn't spoken a word to you yet, and still, he feels a hot rage at the sight of you talking to another lord. Aemond watches as you shake your head and the Lord leaves. He cheers inwardly. But then a cold fear runs down his spine. What if you also reject him? It would be humiliating. But he worries much more about his heart than about his wounded pride.

Aemond tries to push the thought of your rejection away and rather tries think about what he will say to you.

In that moment, Aemond wishes he were more like Aegon. Aegon finds it easy to approach people, to talk to them. To win people over, to strike up a conversation. Aegon makes it look effortless. Aemond can't do that. He never knows what to say. He hardly engages in conversation with young ladies. He always overthinks what he says.

Aemond can train, strengthen his body, master his weapons, learn languages, history. All of that Aemond can achieve through discipline. But he can't force anyone to like him. You would certainly find him boring. What interesting things does he have to say? Or probably not attractive either. Why would such a beautiful Lady like you find him attractive? After all, he is mutilated. He is missing an eye. Whether you will find him repulsive.

Aemond lightly shakes his head to dispel these thoughts. He has already played it all through in his head a thousand times. Thought about thousands of different reactions. Now it's time to find out the reality.

He has sworn to himself that he will speak to you today. Aemond drowns his wine.

Restlessness and uncertainty spread in his gut as he takes the first step towards you. He stops again. Maybe it wasn't a good idea after all. He should turn around and disappear into his chambers. The trouble he will get with his mother is preferable to being rejected by you.

He could also take Vhagar for a flight. His old lady would surely laugh at him if she could see him like this. Aemond discreetly wipes his sweaty hands on his pants. He takes a deep breath. You can do this! If he can claim Vhagar for himself, the largest dragon of their time, then he can also approach a maiden! Even if this maiden is as beautiful as you are. Enough now. Aemond can do it. He remembers the feeling of being with Vhagar and finally manages to bring himself to go to you.

As he approaches you and your sisters, your conversation falls silent, and you look at him, quiet and curious. Under no circumstances can he speak to you in front of all your sisters. That's way too embarrassing.

A dance. He has to ask you to dance with him. Then you can talk in peace. Or just be silent. Depending on how much courage Aemond has left after he spooke to you.

He swallows hard before he says your name. Surprised, you look at him. Your beautiful eyes sparkle, and Aemond just stares at you for a moment before he realizes he needs to say more. He clears his throat and notices how his cheeks are slightly turning red.

"A dance, my lady?" he asks, extending his hand to you. He notices that they are sweaty again. Your gentle smile widens a little.

"Gladly." you say and reach for his hand. You have to notice how sweaty it is. You don't let anything show.

Aemond remembers his dance lessons and leads you onto the dance floor. He tries to ignore the giggling of your sisters behind you. He places his hand on your hip and begins to lead you through the dance. Up close, you are even more beautiful. Even your scent is stunning. Of course, your dance steps are elegant and precise. He didn't expect anything less from you. You are still smiling even though Aemond still doesn't know what to say now.

"You dance very well, my prince." you suddenly say in a soft voice. Then you lower your gaze. Aemond notices the hint of red on your cheeks. His heart begins to race."

Aemond. Call me Aemond, please," he says suddenly without thinking. His voice almost cracks. Embarrassing. But when you smile at him, his tension eases slightly.

"Aemond," you say, as if to try his name on your tongue. He has never heard anyone say his name so softly.

"You dance very well too." he returns the compliment. Now he doesn't know what to say again. "Do you like the Red Keep?" he asks therefore. He would rather talk about your interests, thoughts, passions, and hobbies. What you wish for in life, which places you would like to travel to, what makes you happy. But that would be too much for your first conversation, he knows that. He's not an idiot. Nevertheless, the need to know everything about you is growing within him.

"Yes, it's very nice here. I have never been away from home. That makes it all even more exciting," you reply. The song is over, the dance is finished. But neither of you makes any move to leave the dance floor again. Aemond's hand moves from your hip to your back, and he pulls you just a little bit closer to him. His fingerstips tingle slightly. You don't protest instead you follow the steps of the next dance. Aemond almost has to exhale in relief. He searches for your next conversation topic. He wants to take this opportunity to get to know you as much as possible.But you suprise him because you keep talking.

"You probably can't understand that. After all, you can go anywhere with your dragon whenever you want. Have you already visited many places?" you look at him with interest.

Aemond could jump up and down excitedly. You asked him a question, want to know something about him. Him of all people. He needs a moment to calm himself before he can answer.

"I am often in Old Town with my brother, and Vhagar and I have flown all the way to Essos before. Of course, I also travel a lot in the Crownlands."

"Where do you like it the most?"you ask.

"The honest answer is a bit boring." he is sure that you think he liked it best in a distant, foreign place.

"I don't think anything about you can be boring. Please give me an honest answer."

Aemond hesitates for another second, he feels the heat in his face again, yet he answers honestly. "I prefer to be here in King's Landing." With my family. I like it the most when I´m with my family." he should have come up with something cooler, more interesting. Your reaction surprises him. You grip his hand a little tighter and smile at him openly.

"I also prefer to be with my family," you reply then. "Even if they sometimes get on my nerves. I have 4 sisters and 2 brothers. It can get quite exhausting at times. But never boring. Oh gods, I'm rambling. That probably doesn't interest you at all. I'm sorry." your voice gets a little faster and you bite your lip.

"No, please. Don't apologize. It interests me."

"Really?" you ask hesitantly.

"Yes. I can understand it. My siblings annoy me sometimes too. Especially Aegon."

"Big brothers are the burden of our existence," you say and then laugh at your own joke. Your laughter sounds like the melody of a choir. Aemond has never heard a more pleasant sound. "I'll definitely have to listen to a lot of shit later because I danced with you. They are all so terribly curious."

For a moment Ameond is worried that you regret accepting his offer for a dance. "I didn't mean to cause you any trouble."

"Oh no. I didn't mean that I will get in trouble at all. It's just." you interrupt yourself and look down. "It's embarrassing."

Now Aemond definitely wants to hear it.

"It doesn't have to be embarrassing for you. I will not judge you."

You take a deep breath before looking at him again. "It's just. Well, you are a prince and you caught my eye, and I might have gushed about you a little bit in front of my sisters," you admit, but you can't hold his gaze. Your cheeks and neck turn dark red as you look away, embarrassed.

Aemond can't believe his own ears. He would most like to cheer while butterflies dance in his stomach. You have talked about him. Him of all people. Especially since you are as beautiful as the morning sun. He can hardly believe his luck."I noticed you too," he admits now to ease your embarrassment a bit.

Surprised, you look at him. Your lips form a surprised "o." Aemond has the urge to lean forward and touch your lips with his. But he can't do that. It would be inappropriate and improper. Quickly, he dispels the thought of your lips on his.

"Really?" you ask a little uncertainly.

"Really." he assures you. As a matter of facts he had been thinking about you constantly over the past few days. "That's why I asked for a dance. I've been thinking for days about how to approach you."

You laugh gently again. "And I was thinking about where I could best cross your path. I even got lost in the Red Keep once because of it." Now he has to laugh too, and you join in.

Aemond wants nothing more than to dance with you all evening and hear you laugh. But you are interrupted by the voice of one of your sisters. She calls your name and gestures towards the door. You roll your eyes in annoyance.

"My big sister. Since we've been here, she's acting like she's in charge. She wants us to get back to our chambers. I guess I have to go."

Aemond cannot banish the disappointment from his face, but he also notices that you seem a bit downcast that your conversation has ended so abruptly.

"Have a good evening, Aemond," you say, then turn to leave.

"Wait." he says quickly. He can't just let you disappear again so easily now. "May I accompany you on a walk tomorrow? At Blackwater Bay, perhaps?"

You beam at him. "Yes, very gladly." then you go to your impatiently waiting sisters. Aemond takes a deep breath. That went better than he had dreamed. It wasn't so hard after all.

With pounding hearts and light steps, he sets out to search for his sister Helaena.

[rothpie]

❝FIDELITY❞ |part8

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: slut shaming(?)

previous - next

Could you really call yourself an adult now?

I mean, honestly, is there some magical age that makes you a certified grown-up?

If it’s all about age, then nope—you weren’t an adult. Maybe a “young adult” at best, but even then, the life you were living? Let’s just say it was… a bit different.

When everything started happening so quickly, keeping up felt impossible. And let’s face it, that was normal. If you managed to juggle everything with calm composure, you’d probably qualify as Wonder Woman. Life came with its ups and downs, but throw pregnancy symptoms into the mix, and things got extra tricky.

You liked to share what you wanted with others. Talking about your plans openly was just how you were. It wasn’t about bragging; you just enjoyed sharing your happiness. But every single time—without fail—whatever you talked about? It never happened.

That Venice trip you’d been set on for the summer? Canceled.

The dream university? Rejected. That car you were this close to buying? Nope, didn’t happen.

It was like clockwork. Every time.

And the thing was, you never learned. Not really. You’d repeat the same mistake again and again. Life’s law, right? Someday you’d figure it out… though that day clearly wasn’t anytime soon.

Pregnancy, though, wasn’t exactly something you could go shouting about to everyone. That was off the table. But moving?

If you weren’t pregnant, there’s no way you’d have kept quiet. You’d have made sure the entire island knew. And naturally, that would’ve meant it wouldn’t happen.

This time, though, you zipped it. The only person who knew was JJ—and, well, he didn’t really count. Or, okay, maybe he did. Of course, he was important, but not the kind of person to stand in your way. On the contrary, he had your back. He even offered to help you with the whole moving process.

Things happened so fast, you could hardly believe it.

Your dad came home from his work trip, you visited the mainland, met with a realtor friend of his, checked out potential homes—it was like someone had hit the fast-forward button.

You couldn’t decide on anything. You were even okay with a cute little apartment. The list of occupants was simple: you and your daughter. You didn’t need much more.

Your mom, however, had her opinions. She didn’t want a mansion either, but she was firm about the house having enough rooms. One for you, one for your daughter, and a guest room—because naturally, grandma duties. And a yard, because she wanted to watch her grandchild play outside.

So apartments were out. Houses it was. After seeing what felt like a million empty ones, you were ready to scream.

But finally, you found it. The perfect house. The yard alone sold it. You could already picture the memories you’d make there with your daughter. Maybe a swing or a hammock… some comfy furniture on the porch.

You never imagined you’d get so close to your dream so quickly.

It had the three rooms your mom insisted on, was two stories, and honestly, it was beautiful. You loved it. But the idea of living there alone was terrifying.

Still, the deal was sealed.

It didn’t take long—two weeks, tops. When your mom insisted on hiring an interior designer, you didn’t argue much. Secretly, you liked the idea. And once your belongings were packed, it was all done.

All that was left was you.

There weren’t many people to say goodbye to on the island, which was, honestly, fine. Who were you supposed to bid farewell to? Rafe? His family, who didn’t even know you were pregnant? Your friends, who���d probably broadcast the news to the world? No thanks.

Except for JJ.

You’d have been a total ass not to acknowledge his help. Even if his support wasn’t entirely physical, his presence had been a huge emotional lift.

So saying goodbye wasn’t hard.

Ignoring the support he’d given you would’ve been dumb. When you decided to give him a nice surfboard as a thank-you gift, you didn’t overthink it. You just thought about who JJ was—someone who loved the ocean and surfing. Beyond that? You didn’t know much. So you kept it simple. Spoiler alert: he liked it.

You hesitated, thinking a gift might make things unnecessarily sentimental, but he deserved it. Nobody else in his position would’ve treated you as kindly. Even Kooks barely treated each other well. Expecting a Pogue to go out of their way for you? Yeah, no.

But JJ had.

You weren’t super close, but during one of your conversations, he’d mentioned how much he liked the rare nights when his shift ended early. He worked at a pub. In your head, you’d given him two weeks before he got fired—or kicked out after starting a fight. You were that sure of it.

A week ago, knowing the end of his evening shift, you parked near the pub, sitting on your car hood to wait for him. The plan? Give him the surfboard. Maybe even give him a ride home if he needed one.

Fifteen minutes passed. He hadn’t come out.

You started questioning everything—maybe you’d gotten the wrong day? Or maybe you’d messed up the time?

Waiting around for nothing felt miserable. You should’ve paid better attention when he’d been talking about his schedule.

Not that the gift had been planned or anything. The idea had hit you on a whim. You just wanted to do something before you left. After all, there weren’t many people to say goodbye to. And texting JJ a quick see ya felt way too impersonal.

“What are you doing here?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, your eyes shooting up from your phone. JJ stood a few steps away, mid-turn before he stopped and faced you fully. His eyes scanned the car before landing on you.

Quickly, you shoved your phone into your pocket. “Making sure you didn’t pick another fight.” Sliding off the hood, you smirked.

JJ rolled his eyes, flashing you a sarcastic smile. “Ha-ha. How funny.”

Unlike him, your grin was genuine. Why should he have all the fun pissing people off? It was your turn.

Unlike him, your lips curled into a genuine smile. Was it always going to be him getting under your skin for his own amusement? No, this time, it was your turn.

You heard him say your name, his tone serious. “No, really. What are you doing here?”

Keeping surprises wasn’t exactly your specialty, but you couldn’t resist messing with him a little. After all, this was the first time in days you’d left the house—and only in your baggiest clothes. Might as well enjoy it.

“Just hanging out.”

He frowned, his eyes scanning the area before gesturing around. “Here? Outside the pub?”

The confusion on his face was nearly comical—borderline annoyed, maybe?

You mirrored his glance at the surroundings, raising your eyebrows. It wasn’t much to look at. Just… a place. “What’s wrong with here?”

JJ let out a frustrated sigh, and for a moment, you couldn’t believe you’d actually managed to annoy him. He genuinely looked upset. “Are you serious right now? You—” He stopped himself, clenching his jaw as he stepped closer. Lowering his voice, he added, “You can’t drink. You’re not even supposed to be hanging around.”

So, he thought you’d come here to drink? That’s why he was so worked up?

It was kind of… cute. But poking the bear was way more fun.

You let out a dramatic hum as you crossed your arms. “Not allowed? Says who?” You tried not to laugh at the look he shot you, a mix of exasperation and disbelief, like you’d lost your mind.

“Me. You’re not drinking. Not here, not anywhere. Have you lost it?”

Your lips pulled into a grin, and despite his attempt to scold you, his irritation only made it funnier. Especially since you hadn’t even done what he was accusing you of.

The second JJ caught onto what you were doing, his annoyed expression melted away. As your laughter echoed, he pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly unimpressed. “Yeah, yeah. Hilarious. Now, can you just tell me what you’re actually doing here?”

You clutched your stomach, your laughter dying down into a lingering smile. Sure, he wasn’t amused, but you were, and that’s all that mattered.

“I’ve got something for you.”

JJ’s eyebrows shot up. He straightened, intrigued. “Yeah?”

You stepped away from the car’s front, glancing back to see him still rooted in place. You gave him a quick head nod to follow. With a sigh, he finally moved. “If this is a gun for self-defense, just so you know, I’m not really clear on the rules here,” he joked with a wink.

You snorted, shaking your head. “Please. If I gave you a gun, you’d be arrested in, like, two seconds.”

He laughed, but you could tell he was curious now. Opening the back door, you reached inside. “It’s a thank-you gift. Kind of.”The surprise on his face was priceless. He clearly wasn’t expecting this. Honestly, neither were you until the idea struck.

JJ tilted his head, his expression skeptical. “Thank you? For what? For telling you not to pick fights?”

You rolled your eyes. He couldn’t be serious. “No, JJ. For helping me out.”

He smiled, but it was that classic, goofy grin of his. Any trace of his earlier irritation had completely vanished. He didn’t even glance into the car. “Oh, I get it. Like a ‘without JJ, my life would’ve fallen apart’ kind of thank you? Go on, feed my ego. I live for this.”

For a split second, you considered slamming the door and driving off. Instead, you laughed. Sure, there was some truth to what he said, but no way were you letting him win.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door wider and stepped back. “Nope. It’s just a small gesture. Don’t read too much into it.”

JJ walked over and held the door open, his eyes going wide when he spotted the surfboard wedged into the backseat. His fingers ran over the smooth edges and the blue-and-white design. “You got this for me?” he asked, his voice softer now as he inspected it.

You couldn’t suppress your grin. “Yeah. I mean, I know it’s kind of random, but I figured you could use your own board for a change. For everything you’ve done—” You hesitated, trying to find the right words. “It meant a lot.”

JJ’s smile was different this time. It wasn’t cocky or teasing. It was genuine. “If I don’t take this, I feel like you’d be really annoying about it,” he muttered, pulling the board from the car.

“Absolutely. You wouldn’t want to hear me talk about how I poured my heart into its design,” you teased.

He froze, eyes narrowing. “Wait—you designed it?”

You smirked, holding his gaze. “No. But it’s nice that you believed it for a second.”

JJ laughed, shaking his head as he leaned the board against the car. For once, he wasn’t mocking or making jokes. Instead, he looked at you with something softer, something you couldn’t quite place. “This is… perfect. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know. I just wanted to.”

He hesitated, glancing at the board before meeting your eyes again. “I was just trying to help. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

And that was it, wasn’t it? That’s how it felt. Deep down, you’d even envied the way he was with his friends. He didn’t know you. In fact, he hated your group. But if he treated you like this—who knew how he treated his friends?

You weren’t used to people doing things for you without expecting something in return. Sure, you had a hunch JJ liked money. Not just you—everyone on the island knew that. But still, the way he talked to you, made time for you… it mattered. It broke the prejudice you had against him.

It wasn’t anything grand. He didn’t buy you houses or cars. He didn’t shower you with jewelry. But he talked to you like no one else did. He made you feel—like you were someone. Like someone whose decisions shouldn’t be dictated by anyone else’s words.

And that? That was worth more than jewelry. More than anything money could buy. It was something most people—Rafe included—didn’t have.

From the moment he heard, he didn’t tell anyone. What friend would do that? Ruthie? Sophie? Who?

JJ did.

And he wasn’t even your friend.

That’s why it mattered. He was just being himself, and you needed that.

“It felt like that.” JJ was holding the surfboard, his eyes catching yours. A strange silence fell between you. Neither of you had expected such a gesture—not just surfing, but the support he’d given you.

You hadn’t expected his support; that was his gesture to you. And he hadn’t expected a surfboard from you; that was your gesture to him.

JJ lifted the board to examine it, the usual smirk still on his face. He was clearly trying to ease the tension hanging between you. “So, I have my own board now, huh? I don’t have to give this one back, do I? Because when it comes to stuff like that, you’re pretty stubborn.”

“No, it’s yours,” you said, smiling. You were grateful for his teasing—it cut through the awkwardness. You could’ve stayed silent for hours. “But if I catch you getting into another fight, I’ll beat you with that board.”

JJ laughed, shaking his head. His gaze flicked between the board and you. He was ridiculously excited about the surfboard but trying hard not to show it. “Fair deal. But just so we’re clear, every cool move I pull off with this board? I’m crediting you. ‘Thanks to Princess for this wave,’ that kind of thing. You’re my sponsor now.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny his antics made you laugh. He was fun to be around. You were glad the whole “status” nonsense between you two seemed to be fading. It wasn’t just you—he had his own assumptions about you too. But it felt like you’d both moved past that. “Okay. Sponsorship’s over. Go find your wave.”

JJ carefully propped the board against the wall, his expression softening. “Jokes aside, thanks. I mean it. This means a lot. Just don’t tell anyone I said that—gotta protect my image.” He smiled, dimples showing as he ran a hand through his hair.

You smiled back, nodding quickly. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe.”

As you both grinned, JJ’s eyes flicked from you to the surfboard. Following his gaze, your eyes drifted to his hands, gently tracing the board like it was fragile.

“I’m leaving the island tomorrow.” The words tumbled out, and you saw his hands freeze. His gaze landed on you, but you kept your focus on the board, pretending to admire its design. It really was a beautiful surfboard. “So—I wanted to say thank you.”

His blue eyes pierced through you as if that was even possible. JJ didn’t say anything to make the moment heavier, just nodded. For several seconds, neither of you spoke. Realizing the air had gotten heavier, you shifted your tone to something more casual. “I could drive you home if you want.”

You weren’t the kind of person to offer, but making him carry a surfboard all the way home felt cruel.

JJ opened his mouth to respond, but a car horn blared from down the street. Both of you turned toward the sound. Outside the car, John B and Kiara were leaning against it, with Pope, Cleo, and Sarah visible through the windows. Pope waved at JJ from where he hung halfway out of the window.

When Sarah’s eyes met yours, you instinctively tugged at your shirt. There wasn’t anything visible, but still—you felt uneasy. “Wow,” you said, feigning amusement. “Your entourage is here.”

JJ hesitated, looking momentarily torn. Finally, he sighed, a guilty smile creeping onto his face. His gaze dropped to your hand still fidgeting with your shirt. For a split second, it seemed like he wanted to grab your hand, to stop you.

“Nothing’s showing,” he said, his eyes lingering on your waist. You knew that, but the idea of anyone finding out still terrified you. Especially someone from Rafe’s family. He didn’t want them to know, and neither did you. That’s why you felt the need to be extra cautious around Sarah and Wheezie.

“I know. It’s just—” You stopped, shutting your eyes briefly before opening them again. It was paranoia, but understandable. “Relax. No one knows, I swear.” His hand almost reached out to your arm, but he stopped, remembering his friends were watching from the car.

“Go,” you said, shrugging. You composed yourself. “Looks like you’ve got a ride after all.” You smiled.

JJ paused for a beat, then flashed a crooked smile. He hated the awkwardness lingering between you. “If this board isn’t as good as you said, you’re getting an earful. I’ll call you.” He walked backward, teasing. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his words.

As you walked toward your front door, you noticed his movements slow. He stopped, turned, and looked back at you. It was like he’d remembered something he’d forgotten to do. Placing the surfboard down gently, his eyes briefly darted away from yours.

Then he walked up to you and stopped right in front of you. After a brief, silent pause, you felt his arms wrap around you. Was he… hugging you? Seriously? The gesture caught both of you off guard. You’d never imagined this kind of closeness. But then again, you hadn’t imagined buying him a surfboard either. So, it didn’t feel wrong. If buying him a gift made you feel this close, then it wasn’t strange that he’d feel close enough to hug you.

You returned the gesture, wrapping your arms around him. His grip was firm, and the scent of salt and ocean filled your senses. How did he always smell so much like the sea?

The hug was short, but both of you felt the strangeness of it. Once again—you felt like you’d crossed a line. Broken some unspoken rule.

JJ shrugged as he pulled back. “Yeah, that’s it. See you, uh… whatever.”

You took a deep breath, watching him stand there. You hated goodbyes. You were going to miss this island, and now—

“Yeah… goodbye.” You pushed your hair behind your shoulders, trying to steady your voice. You didn’t understand why you felt like you were losing a friend. Like you were going to… miss him?

Stop. Don’t even think about it.

JJ nodded, picking up the surfboard as he walked toward the car. You watched him for a moment before turning to the front door and stepping into your car. Through the windshield, you caught a glimpse of Kiara muttering something to Sarah. Whatever she was saying, you couldn’t hear.

When JJ got into the car, he paused, lowering his head for a brief moment before looking outside again.

He mouthed something to the group. Not to you, but to the friends in the car. “Just shut up.”

When he gave you a quick nod, you returned it before starting your car. Watching them drive off, you felt a strange mix of relief and melancholy. You’d thanked JJ, and that was all you wanted. It was done.

Except for the quiet ache of losing a friend.

You’d left only a few clothes back at the house on the island. The furniture and everything else stayed in your room. Your parents insisted the room remain untouched—they wanted you to know there was still a home for you there. They even promised not to change a thing.

The first few months were bound to be hard; you knew that. Living alone was going to take some getting used to. But you hoped it’d all be worth it when you finally held your baby.

Now, you were sitting on the couch in your new place, sipping a green smoothie. You’d have given anything for a coffee, but pregnancy meant sacrifices. A little caffeine might not hurt, but you didn’t want to risk it. The smoothie was healthy, though it tasted awful.

It had only been six days since the move. You’d allowed yourself time to explore the area, taking walks around the quiet streets. Your parents had offered to stay with you for a few days, but you politely declined. You wanted to settle in on your own. Leaning on their warmth and presence only to have it ripped away later would have made the loneliness worse. You couldn’t let that happen.

Morning sickness had eased enough for a few walks, so you’d wandered the calm streets near your house. Quiet, orderly, nothing like Outer Banks. You couldn’t help but compare the two. Everything here was different. The people, the lifestyle—it all felt so structured and tame. But a part of you missed the chaos of the island. The freedom. The absurdity of going to the store in a bikini without anyone batting an eye. That tight-knit community where everyone knew each other’s names.

You’d visited the local park a few times. It was rarely crowded, and you hadn’t met anyone yet. By the time you arrived, most of the adults and kids were just beginning to trickle in.

So, here you were: your own place. Did that make you an adult?

How did adults even make friends? Scratch that—how did anyone past a certain age make friends? As a kid, it was easy. Just ask someone to play with you, and that was it. Middle school? Same thing.

But now? You didn’t know a soul here. What were you supposed to do? Walk up to someone and introduce yourself?

Terrifying thought.

Still, maybe worth trying, right?

-

Socializing wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

Your eyes scanned the park’s scenery. The leaves rustled gently in the breeze, and birds chirped in the branches above. A group of kids played in a sandbox, their laughter mingling with the faint sounds of distant traffic.

You clasped your hands over your stomach, exhaling deeply. “Maybe this is good for me,” you thought.

But the whole idea still felt horrifying. Sitting at home would’ve been worse, though. At least you were out, breathing fresh air.

Introducing yourself to someone, though? Out of the question. No anxiety attacks, but your chest tightened just thinking about it. No, you’d just sit and enjoy the park for a bit. That would be enough.

Your gaze dropped to the book in your lap: Healthy Nutrition and Development During Pregnancy. You fiddled with the corner of its cover. Would someone else find this funny? Carrying a guidebook instead of a novel wasn’t something even you would’ve expected a few months ago. But here you were, on the verge of a whole new chapter. Screw what anyone thought—you were preparing for your future.

Suddenly, the bench shifted slightly as someone sat down beside you. The movement snapped you out of your thoughts. You glanced up to find a middle-aged woman with an energetic demeanor. Her dyed-blond hair revealed a hint of gray at the roots, and a steaming coffee cup rested in her hands.

“Ugh, I hope I can finish this before it goes cold,” she muttered to herself before calling out to the playground. “Tati! No running, sweetheart!”

She waved toward the child before turning back to you with a wide smile.

“Lovely day, isn’t it?” she chirped.

You gave her a polite smile, nodding. “It is,” you replied, subtly shifting your book closer to your lap. Her eyes flicked to the book in your hands, narrowing slightly as if trying to make out the title. “Is that a… guidebook?” she finally asked.

You tilted your head slightly. “Yes,” you said simply, hoping that’d be enough to end the conversation.

“A pregnancy guide?” she pressed, her curiosity accompanied by a cheerful smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “How sweet! Helping out a sister or expecting a niece?—Oh, where are my manners? I’m Viola.”

Her question caught you off guard. You hesitated briefly before giving your name. “Uh, no. It’s for me,” you said with a small smile.

Her expression shifted instantly. Her eyes widened, her grin turning stiff and awkward. “For you? Oh…”

You nodded, feeling heat creep up your cheeks. She had seemed friendly at first, but the subtle judgment on her face now was impossible to ignore.

“How far along?” she asked, as if the question was perfectly natural.

“Sixteen weeks,” you mumbled, pretending to smooth the book’s pages. The weight of her gaze made your skin crawl.

“Ah, so young,” she murmured, taking a long sip from her coffee. When she lowered the cup, her eyes lingered on you, as though dissecting every detail. “How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Twenty,” you replied, keeping your tone neutral but feeling the words land heavier than you intended. You watched her eyebrows knit together as she took a sharp breath.

“Twenty? You look barely old enough to drive!” she exclaimed, clearly not trying to be subtle. Then, almost conspiratorially, “But… you must be married, right?”

Your hands instinctively moved to rest on your stomach, but you hesitated to respond. The silence must have been answer enough because her eyes flicked from your belly back to your face.

“Oh,” she said knowingly, her smile tightening further. “So… is the father still in the picture?”

What was this, an interrogation?

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat. Was it the tone of her voice? Or the audacity of her questions? Whatever it was, it stung. “That’s not something I need to discuss with you,” you said firmly, fighting to keep the frustration out of your voice.

Viola shrugged, but her scrutinizing look didn’t waver. “Fair enough. But raising a baby at your age, and without… well, you know. It’s going to be tough. Don’t you think this was a bit… impulsive?”

Her words hit like a cold wind. You tightened your grip on your stomach and tilted your head slightly. “That’s none of your business,” you said, your voice harder now.

Viola didn’t back down. “Yes, maybe you’re right. But people talk, sweetheart. And usually, they judge the ones they think made the wrong decisions…” She paused, pursing her lips. “Well, they judge.”

That was all you needed to hear. You tucked your book under your arm like you were putting it in a bag, got up, and said, “I think it’s time for me to leave,” your tone colder than even you expected.

Viola raised a hand as if trying to smooth things over. “Oh, I didn’t mean to offend,” she said, but the look in her eyes betrayed the opposite. “I’m just saying this for your own good.”

You could shove your “thoughts” up your ass.

Turning on your heel, you walked toward the park’s exit. The sound of her coffee cup being placed on the bench and her murmuring words echoed behind you. A fresh start sounded nice, you thought. But a new beginning wasn’t a guarantee of escaping old judgments.

There was no way you were going out to socialize again anytime soon. You hated that woman. With every fiber of your being. The way she judged you with that smug little brain of hers—it made your blood boil. You had no memory of how you even made it back home.

You made yourself some hot cocoa, hoping it would calm your nerves. Honestly, lying flat in the grass wouldn’t have been enough to shake off the anger at this point.

Even though you tried to distract yourself—knowing full well that stress wasn’t good for the baby—it wasn’t working. The incident replayed in your mind on a loop. You were certain you’d shiver every time you walked past that park again.

Who did she think she was, anyway? How could someone pass judgment on a stranger like that? The sheer audacity—it was baffling.

The sound of your phone notification pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts. Glancing over, you reached for the phone resting on the couch.

You waited for a reply, but when nothing came, you set the phone down again. At least one of you was having a good day. Even though you felt like you were on the verge of exploding, you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

The sudden ring of your phone startled you. You looked over, eyes narrowing slightly in surprise. JJ Maybank was calling you. Right now.

Pressing the phone to your ear, you grabbed the half-full cocoa mug from the table with your other hand. You weren’t going to drink it anymore. You were too annoyed to even think about washing it, but you figured you could at least move it somewhere out of sight. JJ’s voice came through the speaker, and despite everything, a small smile crept onto your face. For all his antics, he was a decent guy.

Heading toward the kitchen, you heard the cheerfulness in his voice as he began, “Used it this morning.” He was talking about the surfboard, excitement practically dripping from his words.

Frowning slightly, you placed the mug on the counter. This morning? Shouldn’t he have been at work? “This morning? Weren’t you supposed to be at work?”

There was a brief pause before JJ let out a muffled laugh. “Got fired,” he said casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Honestly, with him, it kind of was. You couldn’t help but laugh a little.

You weren’t surprised—of course, you weren’t. With the phone still pressed to your ear, you wandered over to the window and glanced outside. “Figured,” you said, your voice laced with playful sarcasm.

JJ didn’t miss a beat, his tone now teasingly accusatory. “Wait a second. Did you bet on me?”

Smiling, you shook your head even though he couldn’t see it, your attention momentarily caught by a cat wandering down the street. JJ cleared his throat, bringing you back. “No, but I wish I had,” you said.

His response came in the form of a dramatic groan. “That’s the meanest thing I’ve heard all week. You’re better than this.”

You turned around and walked toward the kitchen, your tone a little sharper now. “Get used to it.”

JJ responded immediately, his voice carrying a hint of challenge. “Never,” he shot back. Then, after a brief pause, his tone softened, but he added a teasing edge. “Pregnancy hormones have turned you into a completely different person. And it’s only been six days.”

The way he always knew how to push your buttons—and somehow make you smile instead of snap—was maddening. You found yourself tapping the corner of the table with your fingers, a habit you didn’t even notice until it happened. “I take pride in that,” you said, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

JJ came back stronger, more confident this time. “Hey, do you think it’s the hormones, or is it because you haven’t seen my handsome face for six whole days?” There was that familiar cocky tone, but you could tell he was trying to make you laugh. “I’d bet everything it’s because you haven’t seen my handsome face.”

“Even your surfboard?” you teased, your voice lifting just enough to show you were fully invested in the banter now. You moved toward the living room and dropped onto the couch, your gaze briefly flitting to the TV. But your attention was fully locked on JJ.

“Not a chance,” he replied instantly, almost defensive. “The board’s off-limits. Too precious.”

You chuckled, grabbing the nearby blanket and pulling it over your lap. “Then you’ve lost everything except the surfboard,” you said, shaking your head in mock disapproval. JJ’s laugh echoed through the phone, rich and warm, before he quipped, “You’ve been extra rude lately,” his voice carrying a mix of mock hurt and teasing amusement.

You didn’t just roll your eyes—you sank deeper into the couch, grabbing a pillow to prop yourself up. Of course, he’d called just to mess with you. Was he bored? Had he decided you were the best target for entertainment? “I’ve always been like this,” you replied with a shrug he couldn’t see.

“Nope,” JJ shot back instantly, his tone softer but still certain. A brief silence followed, filled only by the sound of your own breathing, before he spoke again. This time, his voice was a little more sincere. “So… how’s it going? Living alone and all?”

You didn’t hate that he asked. Actually, it felt nice to talk to someone. As an adult—or whatever weird in-between phase you were in—socializing wasn’t exactly easy. It hadn’t been easy on the island either, but at least that had been your choice. This wasn’t.

You took a deep breath, realizing the question was harder to answer than you’d expected. “It sucks,” you admitted finally, the honesty not surprising you in the slightest.

“Why?” JJ’s voice was softer now, laced with just enough concern to feel genuine but not suffocating. It was like he always knew how to navigate these moments without overstepping. And honestly, it was strange—good strange.

You tried to sort through the chaos in your head. “I don’t know,” you said with a faint sigh. “I haven’t really connected with anyone. I don’t know anyone here.”

JJ, ever the problem-solver in his own weird way, jumped in with his trademark ease. “Then make friends with the stray cats,” he said, that classic carefree tone of his bringing a smile to your face despite everything.

“I already have you,” you teased back, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “I couldn’t possibly betray you.”

His laugh from the other end of the line was contagious. “Not funny.” 

Fidgeting with the edge of the blanket, you hesitated before mumbling, “Are you okay? How are you?” Somehow, over the phone, it felt easier to ask—less intimidating than it would’ve been face-to-face.

“I’m amazing,” JJ said, his voice taking on a flat, almost robotic tone that screamed deflection.

“Your ego is exhausting,” you retorted, matching his sarcasm. Why couldn’t he just answer the question for once? Did everything have to be a game? “Seriously. How are you? After… you know, that day.”

JJ exhaled deeply, and when he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, almost reluctant. “I don’t live with my dad anymore.”

You sat up straighter, grabbing the remote to lower the TV’s volume. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” he said simply, like it wasn’t a big deal. “Packed up my stuff and left.”

It wasn’t exactly shocking. In fact, you were relieved he’d done it. Knowing he’d been living with someone who hurt him was unbearable. But still, you couldn’t stop your brow from furrowing. You couldn’t shake the worry. “Are you staying with John B?”

JJ’s silence was unexpected. You listened to the sound of his breathing, the faintest hitch before he finally answered. “Kind of?”

“What does that mean?” Your voice sharpened with concern. Why was he dancing around the answer when he could just tell you?

JJ sighed again, his tone shifting as though he’d stepped further away from the phone. “They don’t know I left yet. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

He hadn’t told his closest friends? Why? They weren’t the type to judge him. You didn’t know them well, but you were sure of that much. It didn’t make sense.

Even as your worry grew, you knew pressing him wasn’t the right move. “So where are you staying?” you asked cautiously.

JJ’s tone hardened. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.” There it was—his three-year-old tantrum mode. Did he really think people didn’t have the right to worry about him? Idiot.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling your patience wearing thin. “As your friend, I’m allowed to be concerned about your safety, JJ. Just tell me where you’re staying.”

His tone shifted again, this time lighter, more teasing. “Friend, huh? That’s nice. Kook and Pogue forever.”

“Shut it,” you snapped, your irritation clear. All you wanted was to know he was safe. “Just tell me already.”

JJ paused, then let out a soft laugh—the kind you knew was covering up something deeper. Even a toddler could tell. “I stayed with them for a few days. Been figuring it out since.”

You frowned. That wasn’t a solution. “You need to tell them,” you said gently.

He responded with the same stubbornness you’d come to expect, but his tone hinted at a smirk. “This is my problem, princess.” Then, as if to shift the mood, he added, “This is the first time we’ve talked on the phone. Cute, right? Now, tell me about your day.”

Despite the worry gnawing at you, you relaxed just a little. He wouldn’t be joking around like this if things were terrible… right?

You hoped so cause—JJ is your friend.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

I Put A Spell On You.

(Part Two)

Smoke and Rosetta got some makin’ up to do

It was a reflex for him to reach for his revolver. The sound of a withering floorboard caused Smokes to jump up from his sleep and grab it from the side table swiftly.

Click.

He was ready to aim and shoot down. Smokes’ unwavering gaze in that dimly-lit room cased out every dark corner and his ears listened for any signs of an intruder. He had good form and a lethal mental. He’d heard the sound again and instantly he aimed for the floor, finger on the trigger ready to pull.

A low meow followed by a pretty tabby-cat relaxed his tense muscles. Smokes lowered his weapon with ease before silently putting the revolver back on the night stand. His brandy-colored eyes tracked the movements of the cat between his legs, trying to get a feel of who this stranger was. Eventually, the sound of music on the jukebox and Rosetta’s soft snoring helped to steady his breathing and lower his pulse. Smokes reached to flick off the lamp light and carefully settled back into the rickety mattress. He took one look at Rosetta’s sleeping face before staring up at the ceiling.

Imagine rainfall, accompanied by the sound of a warm guitar slowly picking away at the layer of your sorrows, haunting, yet beautiful. A sense of serenity entered his mind, extinguishing the flames that burn his soul. For a moment, Smokes could feel, and think nothing. So brief, yet so long, he felt at ease. The melody carrying him across distant shores, feeling weightless in its entranced groove. He flew with the progression of the song, eyes closed, allowing his emotions to guide his path. Up and down his chest rose. Beyond the murky sky, the white glow of the moon shown through the window.

A dainty hand touched his chest. Smokes reached up to grasp it, rubbing it with his thumb. His bare dick against his thigh began to grow. Smokes brought her hand to his plump lips and kissed her there gently. The bed creaked beneath them. Smokes glanced down within the darkness, his eyes connecting with the sleepy, doe eyes of his Rosey. Her naked silhouette entranced him. The dip of her hip and the way her breasts hung from her chest aroused him to no end.

It was the way her long, deep wavy hair fell over the pillow. The pearls around her neck made her look ritzy and those red-tinged kissers made him salivate to taste her again. She was breathtaking. And Smokes didn’t lie when he meant she’s the most beautiful in N’awlins. Rosetta sat up and Smokes looked up into her heavenly face. Her fingertips danced across the ridges of muscle on his torso, her eyes never leaving his.

“Can’t sleep, daddy?” She says, voice soft and warm.

“That cat of yours woke me up out my sleep, gal…”

“Not you afraid of cats now…”

Rosetta giggled. Smokes chuckled slightly.

“I ain’t afraid of no fuckin’ cat…I’m just…been out there in some shit, baby. This the first time I had decent sleep.”

Rosetta looked towards Smokes’ revolver. Smoke followed her eyesight.

“I want one. My own gun.” Rosetta said.

“Oh?” Smokes sat up, “is that so?”

“Mhm. You can show me how to point that thang since you back home. Remember, you said you would…”

“I did.”

Rosetta sat up and Smokes situated her between his legs with her back against his chest. Grabbing the revolver, Smokes pointed it in a safe direction. A safe direction means that the gun is pointed in such a way that an accidental fire would not cause any harm. Rosetta watched with great interest. Smokes accessed the cylinder, emptying the bullets before clicking it back in place.

“Aight, Rosey…wrap your dominant hand ‘round the handle…use this hand for support.”

Arms outstretched, Smokes helped Rosetta point the revolver straight ahead at a wall covered with peeling paper.

“Straighten ya elbows, doll…no need to cock it, but steady ya breath…finger on the trigger…”

“It feels…heavy.”

“Hm. Imagine it with bullets.”

Smokes grazed Rosetta’s neck with his fluffy lips. The lingering smell of amber and sweat against his broad nose.

“That’s how you do it. I’ll take ya’ out to shoot soon…”

The urge to stuff his fat dick in her again created a tickling sensation just beneath his navel. Smokes felt at ease being with his woman again. He’d never leave her side again. Even if Stacks got in the way.

Smokes gave Rosey a wet sloppy kiss to her neck. She tilted her head and his thick tongue grazed over the rapid pulse in her neck and directly over that spot that got her wet every time. His thicker fingers were groping her breasts. Rosey released a breathy moan before looking back at Smokes, one hand on the back of his neck, forcing his lips against hers.

Their tongues moved in tandem, the squeaky springs of her not so sturdy bed surrounding them. Rosetta spun around and straddled his lap. Smokes kicked the sheets away from him, adjusting his large body to accommodate Rosetta. The wobbly, metal headboard banged against the wall when she flopped down into his lap.

One hand around her neck, Smokes tugged lightly, bringing Rosetta’s lips to his again. His other hand reached between her meaty thighs to feel the heat and dampness of her folds. Smokes growled against her lips. His dick was cast iron hard and read to fit inside her tight snatch again.

“Tilt ‘dem hips…atta, girl,” Smokes tapped her pussy with his big dick, “Time to fuck on this dick again, baby…”

“Yes, Papa…”

Rosetta wiggled her hips down onto Smokes thick pipe and her mouth dropped open in surprise. Smokes popped her on the ass hard, his way of telling her to get all the way down. Fully stuffed, Rosetta grabbed onto Smokes shoulders and with a whirl of her hips and a bounce she rode him on that rickety bed like it was her last time.

The fullness stretching her out made her shout Papa, Papa, Papa over and over. Smokes was too damn big for that bed but he made it work. He dug his heels into the lumpy mattress and with both hands he kept her cheeks spread while pumping up into her as she dropped down. Wet, skin slapping noises mixed with the way the bed jumped and creaked beneath them.

The steel of the revolver pressed against Rosetta’s knee each time she bounced. It was rough like she needed it. Deep dicking in her bedroom beneath the moonlight. Smokes slammed up in her so good Rosetta spread her thighs more to feel it stretch her. She craved the soreness, the way it tugged on her clit, the slight sting of his heavy balls slapping her ass.

Pop pop pop

Smack smack smack

Clap clap clap

“Damn, Rosey, gettin’ real whacky on that dick, fuck.”

Smokes grabbed her hips and helped her bounce on his length like a good little fuck doll. Her wavy hair shielded her eyes and those pretty titties swayed in his face.

“You hittin’ my spot, Big Daddy…you hittin’ it so good…make your pussy cum…make your bitch pussy cum…”

“Rosey–”

“Dig deeper, Papa–”

“Grip this dick and wet it up with that sweet nectar!”

Rosetta choked his dick with her walls and her cum trickled down his dick and over his balls. Hand in her hair, Smokes slammed his lips against hers while thrusting deeper.

He needed her more.

Smokes put Rosetta on her back and her legs in the air. He dived back in that pussy with his toes planted against the mattress. Rosetta clawed his back up and they both watched it go in and out. Smokes savored her nipples with his lips and tongue, ignoring the hollow dents in the wall from the headboard.

He grabbed a foot and stuck her red–painted toes in his mouth. Rosetta was super soaker wet on that dick, creating a large stain beneath her ass.

“I just wanna eat you up and fuck you…”

Smokes stared down at that hairy pussy with her leg thrown over his shoulder. He released a breath that came out like the hiss of a locomotive. That shit looked beautiful. If he could paint a picture of the way his dick all big and long spread her open he would. The sweat and humidity in that room made it hard to breath. All he wanted to do was be in his woman. They’ll crack a window eventually.

Well, I’ve got a meat grinder, it belongs to me

It's got good movements, I use it constantly

I’ve got a meat grinder, it belongs to me

It's got good movements, I use it constantly

You don't like good grindin', you ain't gotta bit of sense

It's been going on ever since the world commenced

If you don't like good grindin', ain't gotta bit of sense

‘Cause it's been going on, ever since the world commenced…

“That’s it, Big Daddy, cum all in your fat pussy…”

“Oh, yeah?”

Smokes folded Rosetta in half and pounded the fuck outta her. She furrowed her brows, chewed on that lip hard, and spread her pussy lips with those red nails like she wasn’t open enough already.

“Smokes! Yes! Don’t stop fucking me! Don’t stop fuckin’ your creamy pussy! Milk it, Daddy! Fill me up! Papa! That good hard dick!”

“Ahhhhhhhh–”

“Smoke…oooh…yes…yes…right there, daddy…don’t stop…ooooo shiiiit, daddy…fuuck….get it, da–DDY…”

Smokes gave Rosetta a heated glare and just like that he was filling her to the brim with his thick semen, painting her walls heavily. Dick slipping out, he painted her clit with more. Smokes rubbed his tip between her folds, eliciting a creamy noise. Their tired breaths mingled. Smokes slipped from the bed and stumbled on his way to the bathroom.

He ran a bath and took a piss. Rosetta perched her gorgeous frame against the doorway, body glistening from sweat and cum. She was a sight to behold. Smokes is a lucky man. A bar of Palmolive sat untouched on the edge of the claw foot tub. While Smokes shook the access urine from his dick, Rosetta opened a jar filled with lavender, rosemary, and chamomile herbs, sprinkling it into the tub.

It was big enough to fit the both of them. Smokes slipped in first and then Rosetta settled in front of him. They used a soap sponge to clean each other off thoroughly. This was serenity. Encased in her sweet embrace.

“I love you, Rosey.” He whispered.

“And I love you…”

——

The smell of bacon and butter wafted Rosetta’s nose that early morning. She sat up, messy hair in her face while she stretched her tired arms above her head. Smokes being gone told her that he was cooking up some breakfast. Rosetta threw her sheets back from her body and snatched a satin robe from a coat hanger next to her bed. Feet sliding into a pair of house shoes, she looked down and noticed deep scratches in the wood paneling.

She would need to cover that up with a rug or get someone to buffer that out. She didn’t want her mama to have a fit.

Rosetta made her way into the kitchen, the tea kettle whistling as she approached. Smokes moved about the small room with a blunt between his lips and his dick out and swangin. Rosetta admired his tight ass before her eyes swept over his muscular back. She could see that he was making bacon, buttered toast, eggs, and grits. Smokes sat the cast iron on the stove and looked back when he’d heard footsteps.

“Mornin’ sunshine…”

He pecked her lips.

“Smells real good in here,” Rosetta stole a slice of bacon, “I’m hungry from all that sex.”

“Gotta feed you then, huh?” Smokes winked at Rosetta.

Rosetta stole the blunt from his lips and took a hit.

She coughed slightly, Smokes chuckling.

“Careful wit’ that there, Rosey…”

She took another hit and blew smoke towards him to taunt him before sticking her tongue out. Smoke tapped her on the booty.

“Sit that pretty tail down. I’m a plate this food up.”

Rosetta settled in a dining chair. She noticed the news paper and fresh milk on the table. He must of gone to grab it. Rosetta grabbed the paper and opened it to read. She crossed one shapely leg over the other blunt between her fingers as she held the paper up.

“A train hijacking?” Rosetta announced with surprise.

Smokes glanced over at Rosetta while her brown eyes were glued to the paper. He packed her plate and walked over, placing it in front of her. Back at the stove, Smokes poured her a cup of tea.

“Jesus, killed everyone on board…”

“Gimme’ some neck…”

Rosetta tilted her lips towards Smokes and he stuck his tongue in her mouth. The grip she had on the paper slipped. Smokes snatched it from her grasp and placed it on the table with a loud slap.

“Eat, girl.”

Rosetta grabbed her fork but her eyes remained on Smokes. He could feel her staring while he situated himself across from her.

“Level with me, Smokes…you know ‘bout this?”

“Don’t know from nothing, gal. Eat.”

“I’ll eat when you talk to me.”

“Ain’t nothin to share, baby. Everything is copacetic…”

“Did Stacks do this?” Rosetta questioned.

Smokes’ fork clashed with the table. He gave Rosetta a pointed look of warning. Letting her know to drop it.

“Wasn’t Stacks. Wasn’t me. Wasn’t nobody to get all worked up over. I’m good. We’re good.”

“Smokes…I don’t want you gettin’ yourself in trouble. It’s enough that Phonzo wants you dead—”

“Phonzo punk ass already dead. Might as well call it what it is.”

Rosetta bit her tongue. She knew arguing wouldn’t get her the answers she needed. She didn’t want Smokes to return and get himself into deep shit. She knew he was more than capable of handling himself, but Rosetta needed him alive, especially if she planned to marry him and have his butterball babies.

They ate in silence, the food tasty. Smokes sensed that she wanted more, so he filled her plate up again and Rosetta thanked him with a small smile and a kiss. Smokes watched her eat while smoking his weed and when she finished he cleaned. Rosetta drank her tea with those smooth and thick ol’ gams teasing Smoke’s eyes.

As he scrubbed, Rosetta spread her legs in that chair and spread her lower lips with her fingers. Sweet pink graced his eyes. Smokes watched her stroke her clit. He was high and horny again. Dick stood out like a flag pole.

“You want daddy to eat that pussy…”

“Mhm,” Rosetta licked her plump lips.

Smokes dried his hands and marched over to Rosetta. He picked her up and walked her to the couch.

“Wait, not here—”

“This Miss. Doris’ good furniture,” Smokes laughed, not caring at all about the sofa, “Good thing it’s covered in plastic…”

Her legs parted like the Red Sea. Hips aching and inner thighs burning. Smokes wasted no time slurping on her pussy with a wet tongue and thick lips. Rosetta palmed the back of his head and mushed his face in it. He had a habit of being loud while eating pussy. She could feel herself creaming on his chin when he latched onto her clit to suck.

“Yes, oh, fuck, mmmm….”

Rosetta frowned her pretty face. She had a face that belonged in movies. A rare beauty. Smokes never took his eyes off of her, not even when she came in his mouth. He stuck his tongue so far up her pussy to catch it all. Her robe had spilled open, revealing that hot body to him again. Smokes reached up and rolled her nipples between his fingers while continuing to feast on her overflowing pussy.

Smokes popped his lips off her clit to stare down at his work, “you betta cum again,” He sucked again before stopping, “Cum in my mouth before I stuff you again,” He slurped her up again and Rosetta moaned out, “You know who this pussy belong to. Not Phonzo, not no other nigga…”

Rosetta had to pick her lip up to stop herself from drooling. Her eyes crossed as another orgasm rocked her body. She closed her thighs around Smokes head, unable to take the licks he was giving her.

“Got me ready to fuck again,” Smokes took it upon himself to bend Rosetta over the couch, “Bend that back…atta girl…daddy’s good girl,” Smokes spread her ass cheeks wide and grunted, “Shit, Rosey…”

He hunched his body and with the power of his hips he sank into that good twat. Rosetta rode his tip before he could even fit in. He popped her on the ass with his wide palm before thrusting up and deep. Already she was creaming on his dick. Smokes had her by the arms as he pounded.

Rosetta had that IT like no other. Pretty ass voice, pretty ass doll, perfect pussy, perfect face. Smokes watched her head loll back and forth from the momentous pounding he was giving her. That back arched and that ass jiggling. Her knees almost slipped from the sofa so Smokes had to fix her and put his hand in the middle of her back to keep her stationary.

“I’m a fuck a baby in you.”

Rosetta moaned and clenched his dick.

“Like that? Like when I tell you how I’m a get you pregnant? Like that, sweet baby? Make me a Daddy?”

“YES!”

“All wet on Big Daddy’s dick.”

“Oh, Jesus!” Rosetta yelped when his hand wrapped around her neck from the front, bucking those strong hips and slapping those big nuts against her clit.

Smokes growled deep and with two staggering strokes he came inside of her again. He abruptly turned Rosetta’s head and plunged his tongue into her mouth.

Crack!

Smokes slipped out of Rosey fast and stood tall. Rosetta turned onto her backside quickly, staring up at Smokes with wide eyes.

“Fuck was dat?”

Smokes moved with a brisk pace towards the window within the kitchen, he peered down past the small glass panel at his car.

“What is it, Elijah?”

Rosetta stood behind him with a worried look etched into her beautiful face. Smokes took deep breaths before exiting the kitchen, Rosetta on his heels. He entered her room and grabbed up his pants, uncaring that his underwear sat on the floor.

“Elijah!”

“Stay here…”

Smokes grabbed up his revolve and loaded it up.

Click.

He stormed out of Rosetta’s apartment and down the small staircase leading into the boutique. As he drew closer, his eyes became wild with anger. He unlocked the door and stormed out into the smelting heat with his gun raised. There, a brick lay at his feet. Smokes bent down to pick it up, his cognac eyes following a trail of broken glass until he came upon the shattered window of his Cadillac.

Some people gathered outside to see what all the fuss was about. Smokes peered at them, eyes accusatory and rageful. He knew it had to be someone from Phonzo’s crew. A cheap shot, but still…Smokes was furious. Chest puffed out, he tossed the brick and entered the shop. Locking it up tightly, Smokes turned to find Rosetta staring up at him with a fearful glance.

“They busted out your window…”

“Ain’t nothin’ I can get that patched up…”

Smokes grabbed Rosetta by the elbow, turning her back towards the stairs.

“Daddy gotta go handle some thangs…I want you to stay put and out the way—”

“I’m coming with you, Elijah—”

“No—”

“YES! Yes the fuck I am!”

Rosetta snatched her arm from his hold and stood firm as she glared down at him on the steps.

“I’m tagging along whether ya like it or not.”

Smokes clenched his jaw. Their eyes danced between each other before Rosetta turned her back at him, climbing up.

——

“Scotch…”

Smokes accepted his glass, adjusting Rosetta in his lap. He sat across from his twin, Stacks, the gold in his mouth gleaming. They were sitting in a bar, the sound of distant chatter and glass in the background. The smoke from the cigars they were smoking billowed out like a thick fog. Rosetta wore a chocolate–brown Blondell dress with pantyhose and embroidered T–Straps on her feet in gold. A cloche hat that had covered most of her hair and much of her face was a last minute accessory since she didn’t have time to fix her hair after sweating it all out fucking.

Smokes’ 8-panel hat sat over his own messy hair and he wore his button down shirt untidy with his white beater on display. Stacks looked dapper in his double-breasted mahogany suit with shiny silver buttons and matching cufflinks. Copper silk tie, and black and brown woven Oxford shoes complete the look. His fedora sat on the table next to him.

The Big Cheese took a sip of his own scotch.

“How was your night with that snow bunny?”

Stacks chuckled, “As good as yours was I’m sure, brother. Lay it on me…Phonzo askin’ to go war? Does he not know who he fuckin’ wit?”

“You know dat nigga stupid, Stacks,” He checks his dominoes, “I got word that he’ll want to meet up tonight. I’m not much for talkin’…”

“Hm,” Smokes puffed on his cigar before speaking, “You thinkin’ the corn field?”

“Dig a ditch or two,” Smokes threw out.

“I’ll get Monty on it.”

Rosetta listened to the twins discuss killing and burying Phonzo and whoever else in a corn field. She shivered within Smokes’ lap.

“How ya been, Rosey? Still singing?”

“Of course,” Rosetta smirked at Stacks, “Still gettin’ into trouble I see.”

“You mean your man here,” Stacks pointed towards Smokes, “He’s the trouble.”

“How so?”

“Go on and tell her how you was in Texas.”

Rosetta quirked an arched brow. Smokes shook his head.

“Takin’ his word over mine ain’t the way to go, baby.”

“Uh-huh.” Rosetta wasn’t fully convinced.

She grabbed Smokes’ glass and took a sip. Rosetta watched the twins play another round of dominoes and catch up before Stacks made his leave. He had to make sure things were in order before tonight. A jazz ballad played and Rosetta swayed her hips in Smokes’ lap. She could feel him poking and the thought of sliding up and down on that pole sent chills down her spine.

“Careful there, Tiger,” Rosetta lifted his chin with her finger, “I still gotta cook you dinner.”

“A meal before I bump off? My kinda lady…”

Josephine Baker–I Love My Baby started playing, her voice projecting in a way that emphasized a higher frequency, leading to a brighter, more nasal tone. Rosetta caressed Smokes’ handsome face while staring deeply into his eyes. She sang along to the words, husky breathy tone drawing him in.

Sometimes we quarrel and maybe we fight

But then we make up the following night

When we're together we're great company

I love my baby, my baby loves me

The spell she had on Smokes brought him to his knees before her. He stared at her with those bedroom eyes and a half smirk while she sang to him in his lap. That smoking hot chassis was enough to make him fuck her right there. Smoke tapped his foot and rocked his head while she serenaded him. Others in the bar watched with wonder while balancing liquor and ciggs.

When the song faded out, Rosetta gave Smokes a slow kiss. A wolf whistle echoed and Smokes removed his hat to shield them from view so he could tongue his woman down.

“If it’s a girl, I wanna name her Ella, after my mama…”

“That’s a beautiful name, Elijah.” Rosetta smiled against his lips.

“If it’s a boy,” Smokes took a sip of his scotch, “Emmett.”

Rosetta swatted his bicep with her dainty hand.

“What was that fa’?!” Smokes protested with a dimpled grin.

“I was thinkin’ the same thing!”

“That’s why you my woman…”

Smokes kissed on Rosetta’s neck causing her to giggle. They were both pleasantly faded.

“Is that Smokes?”

“Ida Mae…”

The curvy dame settled in front of them, dolled up and doused in perfume. The smell of Bergamot, Orange Blossom and Lemon burning Rosetta’s nose. Her back stiffened as she surveyed the woman with her sultry eyes and chandelier earrings. Her dark red lips quirked up into a flirty smile.

“When did you high tail back into Nola?”

“A day ago. Why’s you askin’?”

Ida Mae locked eyes with Rosetta for a second.

“Just missed ya’ that’s all. Stacks back too?”

“Ya’ know it.” Smokes replied, caressing Rosetta’s waist, “This is my woman, Rosetta. Rosey, this here is Ida Mae…”

“Pleasantries,” Ida Mae tilted her head in greeting.

Rosetta’s lips remained sealed.

“She owns that whore house in Storyville.”

“Is that so?”

Rosetta cut her eyes at Smokes.

“Yes, a good business if ya’ ask me. Selling pussy is on the up and up, especially these days. Got too much shit to stress about.”

Was he dipping in pussy she didn’t know about? Why the fuck would Ida do some disrespectful shit and flirt with her man in front of her? Smokes had some explaining to do.

“Well, just wanted to say hello. Good seeing ya’ Smokes…tell Stacks I said don’t be a stranger…”

“Will do, Ida.”

She walked away with a tantalizing sway of her hips.

“You wanna tell me what that was?” Rosetta cut to the quick.

“I ain’t fuck nobody else if that’s what ya’ asking.”

“You fuck Ida? Don’t lie to me Smokes…”

“Rosey, cut it out. Ida and Stacks used to fuck ‘round. Probably still do.”

“Yeah, okay, I’m no sappy bird I can tell. Prolly made a stop to that whore house before coming to me. Been writing Ida to keep that pussy ready—”

“Rosey, shut up.” Smokes said through gritted teeth.

“Shut up?” Rosetta kissed her teeth before pushing off of Smokes’ lap, “Go after her!”

Smokes narrowed his eyes at her.

“I ain’t lying to you, Rosetta.”

Rosetta stomped away towards the exit. Smokes followed after her, catching her before she could open the door. He walked with her in his grasp outside, the afternoon heat unbearable. Already he was sweating profusely. Smokes turned her around to face him. Rosetta pointed her gaze over his shoulder, refusing to look at him.

She could be so damn stubborn sometimes.

“I love you. Only you. You need to understand that and quick,” Smokes spoke angrily so close to Rosetta’s face his breath laced with liquor and a hint of chocolate and black pepper from his cigar wafted her nose.

Rosetta pouted. Smokes gripped her chin tight to make her look him in the eye. He needed her to know he was serious.

“Stop it, hear me?”

“Okay…”

She looked from his eyes to his lips.

“So damn hard–headed…”

He kissed her lips before popping her on the ass.

“I’m a drop you off at the shop, okay? I gotta get this window fixed.”

Smokes made sure Rosetta was settled in her seat before he got in. The drive was less than ten minutes. Smokes made sure she was situated, blowing her a kiss through the glass door of the shop before driving off.

Rosetta’s doe eyes followed Smokes’ retreating car.

She wanted to believe he was loyal to her and only her. He’d always been. Maybe it was her mother’s words making her feel insecure. Her mother hated Elijah. Rosetta planned to cook up a steak dinner for Smokes. Ready to get to it, she climbed the stairs and before she opened her door, she noticed a kitchen knife sticking out of the keyhole.

Rosetta gasped, hand covering her mouth. Fear consumed her as she stood there, staring between the crack of the door and into a pitch black abyss. It was eerily silent. Rosetta took a chance and pushed open the door. The light from the stairwell flooded the room. So far, as she peeked inside, she couldn’t see anyone.

Rosetta stepped over the threshold and grabbed the handle of the knife, tugging it to release. She held the knife out in front of her, hand shaking with nerves. Her glossy eyes bounced left and right. She fully stepped inside, frantically moving her hand along the wall until she felt the string of the lamp light. A pinch of relief flooded her veins when the room brightened.

That was all stripped from her just as fast when a gloved hand slipped over her mouth and the weight of a gun pressed into her hip.

——

Hope ya’ll enjoy part two 😏😌

@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

[lovegalor333]

can you do a part 3 to safe house please where reader goes back to Allie’s but stays in Paige’s room and they start a relationship?

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

safe house pt 3 (previous part)

summary: loosely based on this request! read previous parts

content warnings: alcohol consumption

You can’t remember the last time you got drunk. While you were with your ex boyfriend, you weren’t allowed to drink or party or have any fun actually but you’re not with him anymore so you can do whatever you want. And that’s why you had a red cup in each hand, one filled with vodka and the other with rum.

You took big gulps from each cup, the harsh bitterness of the alcohol no longer having an effect on you. You didn’t know what time it was, you could have arrived at the party two minutes ago or two hours ago, everything was a blur. It was nice. The constant anxiety that you were so used to living with everyday was slowly dispersing and not just because of the multitude of drinks you had consumed tonight.

You’d been staying at Allies place with her Paige and Jana for almost a month now. Your bruises had faded, you no longer flinched when someone touched you and you slept peacefully every night knowing that you weren’t going to wake up being choked or slapped. OK, not every night, you had nightmares sometimes but you were never alone, the girls held you while you cried every time. Especially Paige, she had a knack for knowing when you needed support and she would wrap her arms around you and rub your back until you could breathe normally again.

Speaking of Paige, you hadn’t seen her in a while, nor Allie or Jana but you just shrugged this off, downing the rest of your drinks, eager to find another. Your steps were staggered and your body swayed as you walked, if you knew any better, you’d stop drinking, go find your friends and make your way home but you didn’t know better. You felt like you had a new sense of life and you wanted to do all the things you missed out on while being in such a toxic relationship and that included getting drunk at frat parties.

You giggled to yourself as you pour more vodka into your cup. Your hand shook and the liquid splashed onto the counter, “Oh shittttt!” Your speech was slurred and slow and you felt dizzy as you spun around looking for paper towels to clean your mess. You couldn’t find any so decided the next best option was your shirt. You stretch the hem of your shirt and used the thin, lacy material to soak up the spilled alcohol. Obviously, this didn’t have the intended effect and you were left with a wet shirt and a bigger mess than before. You cursed under your breath but another sip of alcohol soon had you forgetting about the wet patch and swaying to the music again.

You made your way out of the kitchen, towards the booming speakers, desperate to dance but with your eyes focused on your feet, trying to stay balanced, you didn’t notice as you bumped straight into the chest of a rather large guy.

“Woah there.” He chuckles, hands reaching out to steady you and you allow him to, looking up grinning.

“I’m soooo sorryyyy.” You drawl out and he chuckles again, “It’s OK baby. Gotta watch where you’re going.”

“I just want to dance!” You pout, “Dance with me?” You flutter your lashes at the guy and his eyes rake over you, settling on your chest and you look down to see the top of your bra peaking out of your shirt, your full cleavage on clear display. Using your shirt as a rag had caused it to expose your chest way more than necessary.

“How ‘bout we go to my room? You can dance all you like in there.”

With God knows how much alcohol in your system and lack of better judgment, you slip your hand into his and follow behind him as he leads you through the frat house. He’s walking fast and you can’t keep up, you trip over your own feet, landing on the floor, your knee instantly hurts.

“Owww.” You cry out, clutching your throbbing knee, the entirety of your cup is spilled but you don’t have time to think about any of that because you’re instantly picked by up the guy you just met and you’re on your feet again and he’s leading you to the stairs.

Your steps are slower now because you’re limping but you’re practically being dragged and you feel as though you might fall again but then you feel a grip on your wrist and you’re being dragged in the opposite direction. With your hand still tight in the guys and your wrist being grasped from behind you, you’re being dragged in both directions and you think your arms are going to be ripped off.

“Let her go.” A stern, steady voice says from behind you and you recognise it, “Paigeeeeee!” You cheered as you turned around, coming face to face with the blonde, “I’ve been looking for you!”

“Now you’ve found me. Let’s go.” She says, tugging on your arm.

“Oh noooo I’m OK! We’re going to danceeee.” You reassure and your new buddy does too, “Yeah, I got her.” He says, also tugging on your arm.

“What’s her name?” Paige asks completely deadpan, in fact, she’s full on death glaring and when the guy can’t answer her question, she tugs on you harder until he drops your hand and scurries away.

“You’re no fun.” You sulk, crossing your arms over your body, frowning at Paige.

“And you’re very drunk. And your boobs are out,” She lifts your shirt until your chest is covered again, “and your knee is bleeding. And he definitely did not want to dance.”

“So? I’m si..shingle now.” You fumble over your words.

“Shingle?” Paige laughs and it only makes you frown more, “You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I know. All too well. Let’s go home.” She says grabbing your hand.

“Oh! I loooveeeee that song! Ten minute version! I walked through the door with you…” You began belting out the lyrics to All Too Well (10 minute version) as Paige guided you out of the frat house and you laughed as you walked through a door as you sang that exact lyric.

“And the air isssss cold.” You laugh again as you step into the street.

“OH YOUR SWEET DIS-DISPO-DISPOSITION!” You continue to perform as you walk hand in hand with Paige.

“What even is disposition? I’m sure yours is sweet whatever it is.” You lean into Paige, suddenly feeling very unsteady and she wraps your arm over her shoulder, her own hooking around your waist and she pretty much carries you all the way home while you butcher the lyrics to Taylor Swift.

By the time you reach the apartment, all your body weight is leant on Paige and she holds you strong and firm as she unlocks the door. You trip and stumble as you walk but she doesn’t let you fall, “Home stretch ma, just a few more steps.” She tells you before you feel the soft surface of a bed beneath you. The covers are fluffy and lilac, “This is your bed.” You say as if she doesn’t know. “Uh huh.” Is all she says as you feel her taking off your shoes.

You lay looking up at Paiges ceiling and you hear her shuffle around her room. Her bed is really comfortable you think to yourself.

Your knee begins to sting and you flinch, “It’s OK. I’m just wiping your knee.” Paiges voice is soft and gentle and she rubs your leg comfortingly. “You’re good at that.” You mumble, “Fixing me up.”

“I got you.”

“Thank you.” You voice is croaky and dry as you sit yourself up to look at your knee and the room spins, “The room is spinning.” You groan, holding a hand to your head.

“I’ll get you some water. Stay there.” Paige instructed and she left you alone in her room. Your wet shirt clung to you in an uncomfortable way and you tussle with it to get it over your head before throwing it on the floor.

“Oh…” Paige clears her throat as she comes back with a bottle of water, “It was wet.” You motion to your discarded shirt, “I’ll get you a clean one.” She says and hands you the bottle of water which you gladly take and gulp down, desperate for hydration.

Paige slips a t-shirt over your head and helps you thread your arms through and you look down, recognising the grey, UConn Basketball shirt you’ve seen her wear so many times, “Suits you.” She remarks and you grin up at her from your place on the edge of her bed, “Thank you, Paige. For everything. All the things you’ve done for me. No one’s ever done that for me before.” You admit as sobriety starts to slip in.

“Of course. I couldn’t just stand back and watch you get hurt.”

You reach out for Paiges hand as she stands in front of you and you hold it tenderly before bringing it to your mouth and pressing a soft kiss to it. You look up at Paige through your eyelashes and she’s looking down at you, eyes blue as ever, cheeks slightly flushed, “Can I sleep in here tonight?” You ask timidly and Paige nods, “I’ll take the couch.”

“No. I want to sleep in here…with you…please.” You mutter, hand still linked with Paiges, her calloused palm pressed against yours.

“You’re drunk…” She warns but you shake your head, “I know what I’m saying.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“Trust me, I do. Just lay with me tonight.” You shuffle back onto Paiges bed, pulling her with you and she doesn’t argue. She kicks her shoes off before laying down beside you, still holding your hand.

“I never knew it was meant to feel like this. So safe and secure.” You ramble on, unable to stop the words from spewing out, “And maybe that’s why I can’t stop thinking about you. Why it’s you who I want when I wake up crying. I don’t know if you meant to do this but you’ve showed me what it’s like to be truly cared for. I think I’m falling for you.”

The air is charged and there’s a long uncomfortable silence as your words hang between you both as you lay side by side.

“Get some sleep. You’ve had a lot to drink and you’re not going to remember anything in the morning.” Paige says, staring at her ceiling.

“I will.” You argue but you listen to her and close your eyes, moving your head to rest on her shoulder as you drift off to sleep, the taste of spirits still strong in your mouth and your heart racing from your drunken confession.

You wake up feeling like your head has been crushed under a hydraulic press. You groan as your eyes flutter open and then you gasp, waking up to Paige underneath you, your head rested on her chest, arm flung over her torso.

“What the fuck?” You mutter under your breath, noticing you’re wearing her top and that her arm is wrapped around you keeping you pressed to her. “Paige!” You hiss nudging her awake and it takes a moment but she begins to stir before slowly peeling her eyes open.

“I bet your head hurts like a motherfucker.” She grumbles, voice husky, thick with tiredness.

“You can say that again.” You squeeze your eyes shut hoping that blocking out the stream of daylight coming through the curtains will ease your pounding head. It doesn’t.

“What happened last night?” You ask apprehensively, pushing yourself up and off of Paige. She stays laying down, staring up at you, her eyes searching yours for a lightbulb moment but it doesn’t come. You have no memory of last night at all.

“You don’t remember?” She asks also pushing herself up so you’re both sitting. She’s still fully dressed and you’re still clad in your skirt from the night before so you know nothing happened between you but the atmosphere is charged like there’s something unspoken just hanging in the air.

“No. Not a thing. Did I embarrass myself?” You ask, cheeks heating at the thought of you doing something you’ll regret.

Paige shakes her head, “No. You were just really drunk. Tried going to a random dudes room so I brought you home.”

“Oh God. Thanks for stopping that.” You place a hand on Paiges knee and she has a reaction that you can’t quite place, “How comes I’m in here?” You ask, referring to her room. You either slept with Allie or on the couch.

“You asked to sleep in here.” She tells you and breaks eye contact, standing from the bed. She was acting weird. Fidgety and awkward. This wasn’t Paige.

“Did I do something to upset you?” You ask, guilt starting to slip in. You were used to being blamed for everything so it was only right Paiges mood was caused by you.

“No. No, of course not.” She reassured you but her body language said otherwise, “Then what is it?” You press, starting to feel awkward yourself, sat in her bed, wearing her top.

“You really don’t remember?”

“Obviously not. Can you just tell me?”

“You were drunk-“

“Yeah I got that part.”

“You were drunk and you asked to sleep in here…with me so we layed down together and you said you felt safe and secure. You said you can’t stop thinking about me…” Paige trails off but she doesn’t need to say anything more because everything comes flooding back to you, “I said I think I’m falling for you.” You say, repeating your alcohol induced confession.

Paige nods, “Fuckkk.” You groan, flopping back on her bed, covering your face with your hands, “I’m sorry. I was drunk and I shouldn’t have said that and now I’ve made things weird when you’ve been so good to me.” Your voice is muffled as you keep your hands pressed to your face, not daring to look at Paige.

“You haven’t made things weird. I didn’t know you felt like that. You caught me off guard.” Paige says and you feel the bed dip as she sits on it.

“Off guard in a bad way…or a good way?” You ask, not sure if you want to hear the answer.

Spending the past month with Paige had been confusing and you put it down to the repercussions of such an awful relationship but the more time you spent alone, watching movies, cooking, eating, talking, laughing, crying and actually being treated right, you realised that your feelings for Paige weren’t strictly platonic. You had no plan on telling her that though. To you, Paige saw you as a victim, someone who needed saving and she was kind enough to do that and you had taken that kindness and made it something it wasn’t and you were sure Paige saw you as just a friend.

“Not in a bad way. You’re beautiful and funny and you deserve the best in life but-“

“But I’m damaged goods.” You mutter, you had allowed yourself to be used and abused for a long time and then Paige watched you throw yourself at a random guy last night, you were crazy to think she’d want you.

“No, that’s not what I was going to say,” She turns to look at you and you have your knees tucked up to your chest, back rested against her headboard, “you’ve been through a lot. You’re going through a lot. I didn’t want to take advantage of that.” Paige says softly and you feel yourself melt. She has a way with words that makes your stomach flutter.

“I just want to forget about that. You help me forget about that. But I don’t want to be a charity case.”

“You’re not a charity case. Not to me.”

“What am I, to you?”

Paige stays silent but she moves closer to you, close enough to touch but ahe doesn’t reach out and your skin burns with need.

“You’re someone I care about…deeply. I want to spend all my time with you. I do spend all my time with you. You have something that I just can’t get enough of. I want to show you what it’s like to be loved…for real. Real, wholesome love. If you’ll let me.

Will you let me?”

Your heart is beating in your ears at this point and you’re staring at Paige, eyes soft and yearning and you can’t hold back from touching her any longer so you fling your arms around her, pulling her as close to you as she can get. Her arms find their way around your waist, hugging you back, your face is nestled into her neck, the scent of last nights cologne still strong, “I’ll let you.”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: think i might take a break from writing once i get through some requests. my mental health is downnn atm and it’s making me hate everything i write 😕

[soaked4mk]

Wade Wilson Boyfriend HeadCanons

👽:slowly but surely getting back into my writing 💅🏼 (not proof read just super horny like a clown ���� HONKAH HONKAH)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

SFW ♥️

★ Wade is a silly guy. So silly in fact, he’ll crack jokes or shoot a sarcastic comment your way—mid argument. “How am I supposed to listen when you look this good right now?” Fear not! Because he knows when to shut up. (When you tell him to)

★ Bro defo has a Roblox account. Not elaborating.

★ Despite his chaotic and reckless behavior, Wade is actually super protective and would go to extreme lengths to keep you safe. And then some. “Hey! Back off! Don’t you fuck with her! Unless you wanna fuck with me too. In that case we’ll need a sit down discussion for—“ “WADE!” “Right—sorry.”

★ Expect big, wild romantic gestures. Like standing outside your window while holding up a boom box. (playing ‘what you won’t do for love’ by Bobby Caldwell) or (attempting at) writing your name with fireworks. (There were definitely ‘unexpected’ explosions)

★ “I know it’s only Tuesday, but I totally, legally rented a helicopter so we can pretend we’re in the aveng—no? Okay…plan B then: Breakfast in bed with (penis) questionable pancakes.”

★ Cuddle bug Wade. Are we surprised? This man lives off of physical touch and affection. Wrapping you up in his arms, not letting you go with a shit eating grin. “Nope, you’re not leaving this couch. We’re practicing the ancient art of Wade Wrapping, which requires at least three hours of cuddles, just sayin.”

★ He is nonstop teasing you. It’s a hobby for him, really. (And his love language) Coming up with silly nicknames for you, challenging you to random games or chores, he’s not below making fun of himself to see you smile either.

★ “Oh-ho? You think you can wipe the track with me in Mario kart? That’s cute.” “Honey—you look fine. Approachable even. Unlike me…” (he says while laying limbless on the bed. Literally….)

★ Uses his dark humor to comfort you in times of ‘what the actual fuck?’ Knowing how to turn even the bleakest of moments into something a little lighter. “Hey, I know life might suck granny tits right now…but at least we’re not in a rom-com where one of us has to die or something worse for the other to grow emotionally, right?”

★ Unwaveringly supportive of you in any conflict. He is going to take your side. Every. Single. Time. Backing you up even if he has literally no idea what’s going on or why. “You said Rick was out of line at work today? Well guess who’s getting a strongly worded letter in the form of interpretive dance in the parking lot?” “Is it Ri—“ “it’s Rick.”

★ Wade loves experimenting in the kitchen with you! Attempting to make meals that sometimes end up in hilarious disasters, followed up by a take out order.

★ He breaks this…’fourth wall’ sometimes. Like looking off into the distance and talking to an invisible audience or camera while addressing you. This dead ass bewilders you at times. But mostly you roll your eyes at his antics.

★ “Can you believe this shit?” He’ll ask, turning to an imaginary audience. “I’m over here being the perfect boyfriend—funny, handsome, protective, all that—and you guys still think Peter Parker is the ‘Ideal Boyfriend’ pffft. Get real.” *turns back to you* “anyway, where were we?”

★ This overgrown man child is a PDA enthusiast. Unashamed of hugging, kissing, or trying to dip you during a playful dance in public. He doesn’t care, he’s proud to be with you and wants everyone to know it. “You know what this sidewalk needs? A spontaneous make out session”

★ One hundred percent would insist on wearing matching or theme outfits. Whether it’s full on costumes or something little like matching socks. “Ta-Da! Matching Taco Cat shirts—no, no. Don’t fight it. This is how we show the world we’re a team. Through peak fashion choices.”

★ Loves movie nights. They’re full of commentary, with your boyfriend narrating or making fun of the movie plots. He’d insist on watching rom-coms or action movies for sure.

★ You’ll receive unconventional love letters in the form of doodles, short jokes, or notes saying “I love you more than The Golden Girls. And that’s saying something. ;)”

★ Wade is a pretty chill dude. He’s not overboard with jealousy. But that won’t stop the man from making his classic (not so jokey) jokes when he feels like someone might be getting too close to you. “Oh, flirting? With you? Cute. Should I go over there and casually mention that I’m the love of your life and also really good with sharp objects?”

★ Beneath all the jokes and chaos, he has moments of genuine, heartfelt affection. Whispering his love and gratitude for you at unexpected times. “I know I never take shit for real. But I’m serious about you, about us. You’re my safe space, the one part of my life that makes sense on this stupid chunk of rock floating in space.”

★ Remembers odd little details about you. Showing it with unexpected gifts that align perfectly with your interests. (Even if they’re a bit off beat.) “I saw this super limited edition action figure of (favorite character). I had to get it for you—don’t ask me how, just say thank you and let’s run—“

★ Randomly belting out terrible renditions of love songs at the top of his lungs, just to get a laugh from you.

★ Acts tough for your amusement, like he’ll pretend to be all macho around your friends to make you laugh. “Yeah babe, I’m like, indestructible. Just gotta…” *struggles to open a jar of pickles* “wait—hold on. This jar is definitely cheating…”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

NSFW 🍆💦

★ Wade love love LOVESSS making you watch while playing with your pussy. Using his mouth, fingers and all kinds of cute little toys.

★ Tying your hands together, behind your back and sitting you in front of the mirror with your legs spread wide as he slowly circles your clit with a bullet vibrator, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “You see how fucking wet you are for me, baby?” “Look. At. This~” “did I say to look away? Didn’t think so…”

★ He’s into all kinds of crazy shit—high key an exhibitionist.

★ Fucking you in a theatre bathroom, pressing you up against the stall while he covers your mouth, dipping the head of his cock teasingly into your aching cunt.

★ “I don’t give one shit if someone hears us, I need you. Now.” “Shhh baby, gotta stay quiet if you wanna cum.” “Stay still now…”

★ Eating you out in the back of the car, hands kneading your plush thighs while looking up at you with that knowing, shit-eating grin. Not even bothering to wipe you from his chin.

★ Struggling to keep your eyes on the man, a red flush taking over your face as the vibrations of his groans send shocks of pleasure through your entire body.

★ Fingering you under the table/using a remote control vibrator on you when you’re out having dinner. “Yeah that’s it for me and uh, what about you babe?” He asks nonchalantly, as if he weren’t bumping the bullet to its highest intensity or running his fingers over your panty clad pussy. All the tasty stuff. It’s the thrill of almost being caught for him.

★ Baby girl also LOVES when you take control. Straddling him, tying him up to the bed, slapping his face. He’s fucking into it.

★ F-fuckk~ wan—wanna touch you so bad~” he whimpers, hips bucking involuntarily while you ride him, bouncing in his lap with your hands on his shoulders and his cuffed. “Mmff—need to cum…please, please—I’ll do whatever you wa—aaah, fffuck!”

★ Wade loves to buy you new toys/lingerie sets all the time! He’ll come through the door with a bag full of new things to try out or on. “Oh, come on—put the bunny ears on…I’ll let you do that one thing you like.”

★ Costumes, dressing up, role play. Cops and robbers, Professor and student, Master and pet. He loves that shit and has a lot of fun with it.

★ “You have the right to remain silent, on your knees, now.” He’ll smirk, cuffing your hands behind your back, trailing a finger down your cheek before fucking your face. “Cock hungry bitch, aren’t ya? Such a good girl…” he croons, pulling at your leash.

★ “You call that begging, honey? Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but you’re gonna have to be louder than that if you want me to fuck you silly.” He teases, sending a sharp smack to your ass while prodding at your slick pussy with his shaft, making you arch and whine out for him.

★ If you’re into it, he has no issue with knife/gun play. “How does it feel…?” he purrs into your ear, slowly sliding the cold metal up your stomach, circling your belly button before trailing up your chest, then collarbone, pressing the blade/barrel to your throat/temple. “Scary? Hot? Scary-Hot?”

★ Loves making you squirt, finger fucking you into oblivion, thumb pressed against your clit until you can’t take anymore. “Fuck yeah, baby.” He pants, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and cleaning them with a simple ‘pop’.

★ “Mhhh…” Wade hums in delight before shoving the same fingers into your mouth—pushing past your teeth, forcing you to taste yourself with a groan “You’re so yummy, don’t you think?”

★ If you’re being a brat, expect proper punishment. “Oooh, talking back to me, huh?” He’ll ask, gripping your face with one hand, forcing you to keep eye contact. “Watch that damn mouth of yours, pretty bitch. And keep riding me—I didn’t say stop.”

★ He’ll make you grind your hips until you’re sore. It’s so fucking good it hurts. “Awww, my poor baby…look at you crying and riding. You must be exhausted, hmm?” Wade grunts, bouncing you on top his lap as if you were a rag doll. His cock slamming into you, hitting that sweet spot—never missing a beat. “Keep going—be a good girl and keep going…”

★ Once you’re both a spent, panting, boneless mess beside each other, he’ll shower you with praise and pepper your face with kisses, combing your unkempt hair with his fingers as he caresses your arm.

★ Wade would set up a diy spa in the bathroom for you. Complete with cucumber slices, a glass of wine (or whatever you want) and a bath that’s wayyy too bubbly. He’d try and give you a foot massage while joking “Only the royal treatment for my queen. Minus the actual royalty…those guys were more fucked up than half of Alabama…”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

👽:I wanna be SAVED Deadpool PLEASEEEE SLUT ME OUTTTT

[dissapointu]

“More to Love”

How each of the main Arcane characters treats you as a chubby partner, supports you through insecurities, and makes you feel completely loved:

Jinx

Jinx is immediately drawn to your softness, both inside and out. She’s not one to care about societal norms or what people say about appearances, and she makes that very clear.

“Who cares what they think?” she says, draping herself across you like a cat. “You’re perfect just the way you are. Besides, all this?”—she squeezes your side playfully—“makes you the best cuddle buddy ever.”

Jinx can sense when you’re feeling insecure, even if you don’t say it out loud. She’ll do anything to cheer you up: crack jokes, pull you into impromptu dance sessions, or draw silly caricatures of people who make you feel less-than.

When she notices you being hard on yourself, she’ll sit you down and make you look her in the eyes. “You’re mine, okay? I don’t want anyone else, so stop thinking you’re not good enough for me. You’re more than enough.” Her words may be blunt, but the sincerity in her voice is undeniable.

She loves running her fingers along your curves, tracing patterns absentmindedly while cuddling. “You’re like a human marshmallow,” she says with a grin. “Sweet, soft, and impossible not to love.”

Vi

Vi is fiercely protective of you, and your insecurities are no exception. She’s always the first to notice when you’re down on yourself and refuses to let those thoughts win.

“Hey,” she says firmly, gently tipping your chin up to meet her eyes. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. I love every inch of you—every single inch. Got it?”

She’s all about actions, too. If someone makes a rude comment about your weight, they’re likely to get a very stern talking-to (or worse) from her. “No one messes with my girl,” she’ll growl, wrapping an arm around you protectively.

Vi also has a way of making you feel like the most beautiful person in the world without even trying. Whether she’s pulling you into her lap, complimenting the way your clothes fit, or leaving kisses along your jawline, she never misses an opportunity to show you how much she loves you.

“More of you to love,” she says with a cheeky grin, kissing your cheek. “Lucky me.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn’s love for you is steadfast and unwavering. She’s always been someone who values a person’s heart and character above all else, and she makes sure you know that.

“Darling, your worth isn’t tied to your size,” she tells you gently, holding your hands in hers. “You’re beautiful to me in every way that matters.”

Caitlyn is incredibly supportive when it comes to helping you feel confident. She loves taking you shopping for clothes that make you feel amazing, offering compliments that never feel forced. “That color looks stunning on you,” she’ll say with a smile, her eyes sparkling with genuine admiration.

When insecurities creep in, Caitlyn is patient and understanding. She’ll sit with you, listen to your concerns, and remind you of all the reasons she fell in love with you. “You’re my everything,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And nothing will ever change that.”

Ekko

Ekko is all about making you feel like a rockstar. He loves hyping you up, whether it’s complimenting your smile, your laugh, or the way you light up a room just by being in it.

“Do you even realize how incredible you are?” he asks, spinning you around playfully. “Because if not, I’ll remind you every single day.”

He’s quick to shut down any negative thoughts you have about yourself. “You’re so much more than what you see in the mirror,” he says, pulling you into a hug. “You’ve got this light, you know? And I’m the luckiest guy in the world to be near it.”

Ekko’s favorite thing is dancing with you, holding you close and spinning you around like you’re the star of your own music video. He loves how free and alive you look when you let go of your insecurities, and he’ll do anything to make you feel that way more often.

Silco

Silco may not be the most openly affectionate partner, but his devotion to you is undeniable. He values your intelligence, your loyalty, and your kindness above all else, and he makes sure you know it.

“You underestimate yourself,” he says, his voice calm but firm. “You see flaws where I see strength. Don’t let anyone, not even yourself, diminish your worth.”

When you express insecurities, Silco listens intently, his gaze sharp and focused. He doesn’t offer empty platitudes but instead reminds you of the qualities that make you unique. “You’ve faced so much, and yet you stand tall. That’s what I admire most about you.”

Though he’s not one for public displays of affection, Silco shows his love through small, meaningful gestures: a hand on your back, a kiss on your temple, or the way he always makes time for you, no matter how busy he is.

“You’re mine,” he says simply, his voice low and steady. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Vander

Vander is a comforting presence, always making you feel safe and cherished. His love is warm and steady, like the foundation of a home.

“You’ve got nothing to be insecure about,” he says, pulling you into a bear hug. “You’re perfect to me, just the way you are.”

Vander has a way of making you feel loved through his actions. He’ll cook your favorite meals, leave little notes of encouragement, and hold you close whenever you need reassurance. “You’ve got a heart bigger than anyone I’ve ever met,” he tells you, his voice full of pride. “And that’s what matters.”

When you’re feeling down, Vander’s the first to remind you of your worth. “The world’s tough enough without you being hard on yourself,” he says gently. “Let me worry about keeping you safe, and you just focus on being the amazing person you already are.”

All of these characters love you for who you are, making it clear that your worth goes far beyond appearances. Whether it’s through words, actions, or unwavering support, they remind you every day just how loved and cherished you are.

[kimmie2me]

HEYYY I LUV UR POSTS LIKE HELLO?!?! also im sure u know abt the bakugo hc with him with him having hearing aids and is it ok of u make like a fic with him signing nasty stuff to reader cuz he can and nobody around them fully learned sign language yet? PLS AND THANK U!!! 💕💕💕

first of all, THANK YOU!! ILYSM!! second, i am BACK!!!! exams went well, i guess. i didnt PASS or FAIL, but whatever.. third, I LOVE THIS IDEA HAHAHHA!!! here is, what I think, a great welcoming back gift to give u all ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ (ignore that Kaminari's text is blue..there's no yellow. ALSO, mina is NAWT taking pink. thats OUR color now.)

Of Silence and Secrets

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Pro Hero!Bakugou x AFAB!Pro Hero!Reader

…..

Bakugou Katsuki hated his hearing aids.

Hated how they fit, hated how they felt, and most of all, hated what they represented. Weakness. A crack in the armor he’d spent his entire life forging. When the ringing in his ears started as a brat in middle school, he didn’t think much of it. Just the fallout from a quirk-boosted explosion, nothing he couldn’t handle.

Years passed. The ringing grew into dull hums, muffled voices, and missed sounds. A villain’s retreating taunt he couldn’t catch. The screech of a car he didn’t hear. Kirishima shouting his name three times before Bakugou finally turned around, snarling, “What the hell do you want!?” while Kirishima just looked… worried.

His hearing aids were a damn nuisance. At least, that’s what he told himself every single day.

They whined if someone got too close, buzzed when he adjusted them wrong, and gods forbid he so much as grazed them during a fight—one hard knock, and they’d go flying. He could hear again, sure, but better hearing came at a price: realizing just how insufferably loud the world actually was. Katsuki had spent months in denial, refusing to accept that his ears, like the rest of his high-octane life, couldn’t keep up with him.

The ringing had started in his late teens, growing louder until it followed him everywhere. He blamed it on the explosions, the debris, the constant yelling—but really, he knew. His mom did too, though she’d spared him the lecture until the day Kirishima cornered him in his agency office with a sheepish grin and her voice on speakerphone.

“Katsuki.” The way she said his name—sharp, biting, and so unlike her usual bark of “Oi, you brat!”—made his stomach drop. “What if somethin’ happens? What if you miss an evac order or—hell—a cry for help? Hah? What then?”

“… Tch.” He had scowled so hard it hurt. “Fine. I’ll get the damn things.”

The intervention was humiliating, but the worst part? She was right. He hated that more than anything.

That was the first night he slept with the hearing aids sitting on the nightstand. He’d finally picked them up after a year of constant badgering—from his mom, Kirishima, hell, even that damn Deku. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hear better—it was the admission that killed him.

But now? Now the stupid things were glued to him. Mostly.

The tech was incredible, of course. Damn nerds at Hero Support had outdone themselves. The hearing aids didn’t just amplify sound; they filtered it, isolating voices during chaos and syncing with comm units. They were waterproof, explosion-proof—Bakugou-proof. Allegedly.

But they weren’t indestructible. He’d broken five pairs in six months. Kaminari had nicknamed him “Break-aid” after the third replacement. Bakugou threatened to shove them where the sun didn’t shine.

And yet… they worked. Too well.

He could hear the scratch of pens during hero conferences, the obnoxious tapping of Kaminari’s foot against the table, the quiet sigh of his own breath. The worst part? The incessant talking. It was everywhere. Fans, reporters, civilians—people who thought their every word needed an audience.

Thankfully, he’d discovered the mute button.

The first time he used it, Kaminari was midway through a rant about his latest gadget. Bakugou, in a rare moment of self-control, didn’t yell. He just flicked the switch, leaned back in his chair, and smirked as Kaminari kept babbling. No explosions, no shouting, just blissful silence.

But there were downsides.

Combat was a nightmare when they broke. Shouting “HUH!?” every five seconds wasn’t exactly strategic. That’s when he decided to learn sign language. Not because anyone suggested it—hell no. But because he’d be damned if he relied on a gadget to do his job.

The process was… frustrating. Hands clumsy, movements stiff. Kirishima tried to help, but his signs were barely legible. Kaminari? Useless. Sero was too busy laughing to be much better or resorted to typing in the Notes app on his phone when it was pretty serious. Deku? That nerd had picked it up in a week, naturally.

But you? You made it bearable.

“Like this,” you’d said, your fingers forming a perfect sign. “Thumb tucked in.”

Bakugou grumbled, but copied you.

“Good. See? That wasn’t so bad, was it, ’Suki?”

Your patience annoyed him almost as much as it calmed him. And somehow, over weeks of practice, his stiff movements turned fluid. He’d never admit it, but he liked having this… language, this connection, with you.

And then he realized something else.

You understood him. Not just the signs, but him. The sharpness he couldn’t quite soften, the quiet gratitude he couldn’t voice. And better yet? No one else around him could understand a damn thing he was saying.

It started innocently enough—well, innocent by his standards.

“Bored out of my goddamn mind,” he’d signed at you during a hero conference.

You’d smirked and replied, “Same.”

But then, Bakugou being Bakugou, had an epiphany: he could sign anything.

The first time he tried it, you were sitting across from him at a formal hero banquet. The room was filled with pro heroes, reporters, and politicians. Everyone was dressed to the nines, sipping champagne and pretending the world wasn’t on fire outside.

Bakugou caught your eye and, with the most deadpan expression, signed: Wanna fuck?

Your head snapped up so fast you nearly knocked your glass over. You choked, coughing into your hand, and when someone asked if you were okay, you waved them off, avoiding his gaze.

He smirked, sipping his water like he hadn’t just propositioned you in a room full of Japan’s elite.

…..

It got worse.

During a meeting with the Hero Public Safety Commission, while a bureaucrat droned on about policy changes, Bakugou’s hands moved under the table. He made sure you were looking before signing: I’d rather have you ride me than sit here with these extras.

You froze mid-note, the pen slipping from your fingers. Your face burned as you ducked your head, pretending to scribble something in your notebook. Across the room, Kirishima noticed your sudden movement.

“Hey, you good?” he whispered.

“Fine!” you squeaked, glaring at Bakugou.

He tilted his head, feigning confusion, then casually leaned back in his chair. He looked so smug you wanted to scream.

At a press conference, surrounded by the press corps, TV cameras, and the elite of the hero world, Bakugou stood stiffly at the podium, bored out of his skull. Beside him, you shuffled the note cards you’d prepared, doing your best to stay focused on Midoriya’s answer to a question about villain reform strategies.

Bakugou glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, smirking at how focused you looked. That only made the idea pop into his head faster. He adjusted his stance, one hand casually coming up to rub his neck as the other signed with precision:

I’d fuck you so hard over this podium, the microphones would short out.

Your brain stalled like a computer blue-screening. The cards slipped from your hands, scattering onto the stage floor. You froze in horror as a sea of reporters looked up from their notebooks.

Midoriya, ever the anxious public speaker, stopped mid-sentence. “Uh, are you okay?” he asked.

“Y-yeah! Just... clumsy!” you stammered, dropping to your knees to collect the cards. You didn’t dare look at Bakugou, whose hand came up to his mouth as though stifling a yawn—but you knew he was hiding a smirk.

To make things worse, while you scrambled on the floor, he signed again, deliberately slower so you couldn’t miss it:

Would’ve pulled your hair too, just to hear you scream.

Your face burned so hot you were sure you’d melt through the stage.

It didn’t stop there.

At the next agency-wide meeting, Bakugou sat across from you in the conference room, arms crossed as a pro-hero you couldn't bother to listen to went on and on about new combat protocols. The room was packed with pro heroes, all seated shoulder-to-shoulder.

Bakugou, who’d already tuned out after the first ten minutes, caught your gaze and raised an eyebrow. Before you could react, his hands moved subtly under the table:

I’d eat you out on this table, right in front of everyone, and make sure you couldn’t stay quiet.

The coffee cup in your hand slipped, splashing onto your notes. You cursed under your breath, grabbing napkins to clean the mess.

Kirishima, sitting beside you, leaned over. “Whoa, you okay? You’ve been jumpy lately.”

You forced a smile, not daring to look at Bakugou, whose expression remained infuriatingly neutral. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

It became a game to him.

While Kirishima nodded and went back to his notes, Bakugou adjusted in his chair and signed again:

Bet you’d cry if I used my mouth the way I’m thinking. Probably beg me to stop—but you wouldn’t really mean it.

You slammed your pen down so hard it startled Kaminari, who glanced over with a confused look.

“You good?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” you snapped, refusing to look up.

Across the table, Bakugou leaned back, feigning boredom, but his eyes glinted with amusement.

It escalated during a casual outing with the crew.

Everyone had gathered at a bustling ramen joint after a long patrol, crowding into a booth that was way too small for so many people. Bakugou sat to your right, thigh pressed against yours under the table. As the conversation flowed around him, he picked up a pair of chopsticks and casually started eating.

Then, as Mina told a story about her latest villain takedown, he turned his head slightly toward you and signed with one hand:

The things I’d do to you under this table would make you scream so loud they’d kick us out.

You froze, chopsticks hovering mid-air. He didn’t even blink, slurping his noodles like he hadn’t just dropped a verbal nuke into your lap.

“What’s wrong?” Mina asked, noticing your deer-in-headlights expression.

“Uh… spicy broth,” you choked out, grabbing your water and gulping it down.

Bakugou, still chewing, glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and added another one for good measure:

Bet I could make you cum without anyone noticing. Wanna test that theory?

You almost choked on your drink, coughing so hard Kirishima patted your back in concern.

At a charity event, he raised the bar again.

The ballroom was filled with reporters, politicians, and wealthy donors, all eager to mingle with Japan’s most famous heroes. Bakugou hated these events with a burning passion, but at least you were there to make it tolerable.

You stood beside him, chatting politely with a group of businessmen, when you felt his gaze on you. Slowly, you turned your head, already dreading what was coming.

He didn’t disappoint. With the straightest face you’d ever seen, he signed:

You’d look so much better on your knees, with my cock down your throat, than in that dress.

Your hand shot out, nearly spilling your champagne as you fumbled to keep your composure. The Pro Hero you were speaking to paused mid-sentence, giving you a concerned look.

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

“I—I’m fine,” you stuttered, setting the glass down before you could break it.

Bakugou tilted his head innocently, signing again:

Bet you’d love it if I bent you over that balcony upstairs. Bet you’d be dripping by the time I was done.

Your jaw dropped, and you 'accidentally' kicked his shin under the table. He didn’t even flinch.

It wasn’t just formal settings, either. Bakugou would strike anywhere.

During a team training session, you were sparring with Kaminari while Bakugou watched from the sidelines. When you finally landed a clean hit, knocking Kaminari flat on his ass, Bakugou clapped slowly, catching your attention.

Wanna know what else you could knock flat? Me. On my back. With you riding me till I forget my own goddamn name.

Your sparring stance faltered, and Kaminari took the opportunity to trip you.

“Hey, you alright?” he asked, offering a hand to help you up.

“I’m fine!” you snapped, shooting a glare at Bakugou, who was grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

The worst of all came during a live broadcast.

The Hero Public Safety Commission had organized a televised Q&A with Japan’s top heroes. You sat between Bakugou and Midoriya, fielding questions from both the moderator and the live audience. Bakugou had been unusually quiet for most of the event, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded.

But then, while the moderator addressed Midoriya, Bakugou caught your attention.

His hands moved lazily, almost imperceptibly, as he signed:

After this, I’m gonna pin you to the wall in the dressing room and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk out of here straight.

Your eyes widened, and you immediately looked away, heart hammering in your chest.

“And what about you?” the moderator asked, pulling your attention back to the present.

“I—I’m sorry, could you repeat the question?” you stammered, cheeks flaming.

Beside you, Bakugou leaned back in his chair, smirking as the moderator repeated the question. His hands shifted again, just enough for you to catch his next message:

If you blush any harder, they’re gonna think you’re into this.

You resisted the urge to scream.

Because, for Bakugou, nothing was funnier than watching you squirm. And knowing you were the only one who could decode his filthy little secrets? That was just the icing on the cake.

…..

Over time, the signing became a secret game. A language only the two of you shared, even if it was insanely one sided. In battle, it was strategic—efficient, silent communication when words couldn’t cut through the noise. Off the field? It was something else entirely.

After a particularly grueling patrol, Bakugou flopped onto the couch beside you, tugging his hearing aids out and tossing them onto the table.

“Another shitty day,” he muttered.

You hummed in agreement, leaning against him.

Without thinking, he signed: You’re the only thing that doesn’t piss me off.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Nothin’, Cupcake. Just watch the TV..”

And for once, you didn’t press.

Because sometimes, silence said enough.

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 12

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series Master list

Hello… it’s me 🫢 with another part of this series, please forgive me for taking so long, hoping the inspiration fairies will visit me soon ✨so… how will their relationship turn after this? 🥰 thank you so much for reading!

Word count: 3,514

Tommy was losing his patience, there was a snitch ruining his plans and even though he was already taking care of that, he couldn’t let his guard down. He needed to convince the Russians to be on his side and keep Father Hughes close to find his weaknesses.

The more he thought about it, the more convinced he felt about it. After leaving the Petrovna gathering he was replaying in his mind Father Hughes’ reactions, he needed to take him down and he wanted to do it himself. That priest was everything but an example to people, arrogant, thought he knew all about everything and it irritated Tommy. But the key to him was through the Russian family.

Perhaps he could eventually make the Petrovna family betray themselves if he played his hand correctly, they were desperate for money and status. He just needed to be really careful and play his part.

With a groan he made his way upstairs, feeling his steps heavy. Ada would go to sleep whenever she wanted, he had asked Mary to have a room ready for her and Karl all the time because lately they’ve been staying over more frequently. His sister had been so helpful with the last touches to the foundation, she made sure the grand opening was successful and everything was running according to the original plans. He tried to push it as long as possible, but delaying the project to wait for Y/N to wake up would be unfair for the children and deep down he knew she wouldn’t want that.

Feeling tired he threw the jacket of his suit on the bed, followed by his tie. Taking the gun from its holster, he placed the weapon in the small of his back using the waistband of his pants as support. Discarding the rest of his clothes, his mind went to the following steps of his plans, he was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear the knock on his door.

“Mary?”

But he heard Ada’s voice clearly followed by a gasp and a Jesus.

Turning around he found the door slightly open and he heard voices in the hallway.

“What’s the matter?” He quickly went to see what was happening.

“I j-just knocked to see if you needed anything Mr. Shelby.” Mary stammered.

Ada stared at the maid and then looked at her brother, confusion evident in her eyes.

“No thank you Mary, you can have some rest.” He quickly replied.

Just as Ada was about to talk to him, Karl started crying in her bedroom so she excused herself and rushed to calm her son.

An overwhelming feeling washed over him and his eyes fixed in Y/N’s bedroom and he couldn’t help but walk in, everything was just like she left it. The bottle of perfume she refused to use in the beginning, her hairbrush and mirror, the jewelry box… as his eyes moved across the room, he found the trunk he bought for her just a few days before she got shot, his fingers trembled when he touched the perfect woodcraft at the top. Opening it and he felt his heartbreak in two as he realized Y/N had been filling it with blankets and clothes for her baby.

A sob escaped his lips. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled into the silence. And he was, he really felt sorry for what happened to Y/N.

That room shouldn’t be dark and lonely, she should be there.

Closing the trunk he felt his chest heavy, guilt was eating him alive. The feeling was more than he could handle and he rushed to leave. Once again inside his own bedroom, Tommy went straight for a glass of whiskey, downing in mere seconds.

He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t lay down on his bed and pretend to sleep peacefully while Y/N was battling for her life in the hospital. So he went downstairs, not bothering on putting his shirt on.

Pouring himself a drink, he sat in front of the fire, his eyes fixed on the flames flicking. The correspondence piled on his desk captured his attention, it had been accumulating since Y/N wasn’t reminding him to check it. Taking a sip of his drink, Tommy stood up to grab the envelopes, going one by one, he left a few letters directed towards the children’s Institute, he was saving those for Y/N. But suddenly his eyes stopped at one of the envelopes, in bold letters it said it was urgent and important.

Returning to his previous spot at the couch, he used his knife to open it and quickly ran his eyes through the words direct to any of Arthur Sr’s children.

It basically said that his father had passed away, he was shot.

Tommy stared at the letter for a while, his eyes fixed completely in the words. The news of his Father’s passing away took him by surprise and he couldn’t help it but think about how broken their relationship was. He couldn’t recall the last time he saw him, or a happy memory in his presence.

He was just a stranger, somebody who didn’t care about him or his siblings.

And for some reason, he didn’t feel pity for the old man. In the end the old man got what he deserved.

Battling with the internal turmoil, he decided to gather the following day his brothers and some peaky men to hunt, there wasn’t an ideal way to share the news and deep down he knew all his brothers had a difficult relationship with their father, but he hoped it was the right thing to do, to try to gain some closure.

That and sharing the plans for his next move, he needed to recruit the best men and also work on finding the Duchess’s weakness, she’d be fundamental to carry on his plans but she was smart and she’d want something in return.

And soon he’d confirm it, because by the time he returned home the following day there was a Bentley parked outside his house.

For fucks sake, he thought. He wasn’t expecting Tatiana it was just a bold move from her, she was desperate and pathetic.

Her seduction tactics were literally a joke, se was just a spoiled little princess living of dreams and people bowing. When she placed her hand on his cheek, Tommy didn’t feel anything, she’d probably provide a good blowjob, a wild one night stand… but that was it.

“You seem a bit off.” She soon realized by his lack of enthusiasm.

“I’m tired.” He lied, it slipped off his lips so easily.

“Mary is quite a character.” Tatiana stated folding her arms. “She seems so loyal.”

Tommy took his cigarette case and raised his eyebrows nonchalantly. “Hmm.”

“I’ve a theory about maids, there’s always one in love with her master, fantasizing about you, she’d do anything you ask.” The Duchess chuckled about her own words.

Tommy stared at her with his head tilted to the side. She was using her free time to make fucking theories about the maids instead of doing something useful.

“And what’s the result for your theory?”

“I think for you, that maid it’s Mary.” Tatiana laughed. “Haven’t you notice something off?”

Tommy wanted to roll his eyes at her. Her level of boredom amused but didn’t surprise him.

“Do you’ve an employee after you?” He asked instead.

“Oh yes. Maybe I can confirm it tonight, see her reaction squirming and getting uncomfortable.”

Tommy thought how twisted and sick Tatiana was. He didn’t want to know if her stupid theory was right, he didn’t want to put on a show in front of his maid.

He was desperately looking for a way to escape her, to find a way out of that situation because Tatiana seemed determined to carry on her own plans, but rejecting her, would cause him a lot of trouble so he needed to play along…just as he was about to sit next to her when the phone started ringing.

His heart stopped beating for a moment, sudden phone calls this late only meant bad news.

“Arrow House.” He replied automatically, praying for the first time.

“Tom? Is that ye?” Johnny Dogs asked.

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s Y/N…. She’s awake.”

Tommy didn’t listen to the following, Johnny’s voice sounded so far away. He felt underwater, like he was dreaming, the shovels on the wall hammering his brain. Somehow he asked Mary to get someone to drive Tatiana back home and then he rushed towards the door grabbing his coat in the process, leaving the Duchess perplexed and fuming for not getting the attention she thought she deserved.

If someone asked him what happened in between that phone call and the drive towards the hospital he wouldn’t be able to explain it. He didn’t know how he was able to drive, his hands were shaking, his heart was pounding like thunder.

And right now he didn’t care if Y/N’s family kicked him out, he would step back from her life if they wanted to, but he had to see her.

But it was impossible and not because of her family, but because there were a dozen of people inside her bedroom, between doctors and nurses. They needed to take samples for exams, do endless examinations and run tests to be able to determine the damage and consequences.

He spent the entire night pacing the white hallway up and down. Trying to have a word with each hospital staff that left her room, they still didn’t have answers.

His neck protested when he looked up, finding Y/N’s grandma sitting on an uncomfortable chair, the sun was almost up.

“Did you see her?”

The woman gave him a nod. “She squeezed my hand.”

“Why don’t you go and have some rest, I’ll stay here.” Tommy offered.

But she was already shaking her head. “No until I know she’s fine.”

Aching for a smoke, Tommy had no choice but to lean forward. “Do you remember when she fell from the fence and hit her head?”

They both chuckled at the memory.

“Was that when you asked me for a needle and thread to sew something?”

A smile formed on his lips, he was so fucking scared when he saw the blood, that he went pale. And when her grandma squinted her eyes and asked what really happened he told her the truth. In the end the blood came from the scratch on her knee but she rubbed her temple, therefore why she had blood on her head.

“I knew she wouldn’t give up.” Her grandma added patting his arm. “And you shouldn’t either.”

Confused by her statement, Tommy looked at her, but the woman got up and walked towards the reception. Leaving him to deal with the internal turmoil that just started inside him.

All kinds of people walked past him, some visiting, some leaving, a few nuns with a Bible and a basket of sandwiches… he had already paid a nurse to keep him updated before anyone else, and unlike his usual reactions he kept away from making a scandal, decided to keep a low profile for Y/N’s sake.

“She didn’t want to, but had a few sips of soup.” The nurse informed him with a smile.

But when a doctor approached him in the waiting room, his face changed. Was something wrong?

“Her mother refused, but the patient has been asking to see you.”

“She said she wouldn’t let anyone run any other test or check on her, they’re actually arguing about it as we speak, she’s quite stubborn.”

Touching the match inside the pocket of his coat, Tommy rubbed the edge nervously.

Tommy left his comfortable position against the wall he had adopted for the last few minutes and grabbed the doctor’s shoulders.

“How’s she doing? How’s the baby?”

“Her physical exam is well, she recognized everyone and if she’s already arguing with her mother, it’d take it as a good sign.” The doctor explained. “But we still have to wait for the blood sample and other studies.”

Feeling some relief, Tommy sighed loudly, leaning his head against the wall. A few minutes passed before he could put a step inside her room.

Hesitating first, Tommy took his time before opening the door. He wasn’t ready for the way her sight hit him.

The moment he had been waiting patiently finally was happening; Y/N was sitting on her hospital bed, a bandage crossing her from shoulder to shoulder, she looked pale and fragile and the attempt of smile seemed to demand a lot of effort from her, but she was alive… and she was awake.

“Thought you’d show up with quite a gang and start blinding everybody.”

She managed to say, it was a bit strange to speak for now, her throat felt dry.

Her statement made him swallow the lump in his throat to laugh, but he also felt like crying so everything got stuck and he couldn’t answer right away.

“I was about to if you didn’t wake up.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

He took a step closer, his fingers touched the feet of her bed, she had a sheet on top to cover for modesty.

“Can I give you a hug?” He asked out of the blue.

It was so unlike him, but he felt if he didn’t touch her, he wouldn’t believe this was really happening. Before she could even nod, he welcomed her into his embrace. Carefully to not hurt her.

“I’m so fucking happy to see you.” He whispered, not fully believing it was happening.

“Hey, did you really think I’d give up so easily?” Y/N ran her hands all over his back. “I learned from the best.”

“Fucking finally.” Tommy couldn’t suppress the chuckle she provoked. “I’m so sorry.” Tommy cracked but Y/N shook her head.

“It wasn’t your fault, stop it.”

In response, Tommy could only hold her hand gently and kiss her knuckles.

“Tommy please, stop.” She pleaded nervously, breaking away the contact between them.

Now that she was awake how could he carry on hiding his feelings for her?

“I hope we’re able to continue the pending examinations and tests?” The doctor stood by the door, holding her record, but before they could tell him to walk in, Y/N let out a pained sigh, bending over her bump.

Tommy reacted immediately passing one of his arms over her shoulders, but feeling useless not knowing what to do.

“Take it easy Miss, deep breaths.”

Tommy gave him a shocked and offended look. “What do you mean deep breaths? Give her something!”

“Unfortunately due to her pregnancy she can’t take most of the medication, since we can’t take the bullet out yet…”

Tommy was fuming, how come they couldn’t do anything? Something?

“When will I be able to be discharged?” Y/N asked tentatively, leaning to her right felt much better.

“If your tests come out clean, you can go.”

That was a relief, partly because to Tommy it was another thing to worry about, Y/N needed protection and someone to be with her 24/7.

“That’s wonderful news.” Y/N’s mother stated from the door, ignoring Tommy she walked to be by her daughter side.

Things between them were still like a bumpy road, her parents basically ignored him and he decided to do the same for Y/N’s sake.

“I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed, there’s a lot of things to catch up on, but the most important thing right now is yours and the baby well-being.” He explained to Y/N.

“I can’t wait to have you back at home an-“ Y/N’s mother started to say, but her daughter’s look was charged with concern and confusion.

“Mother I’m not going back to the house…” She stated through gritted teeth.

“Don’t be ridiculous, where else could you possibly go?”

“My house.” Tommy answered bluntly, not giving it a second thought.

The doctor confirmed right there it was a tricky situation but his job was to cure people, not being in the middle of a family drama.

“I’d highly suggest for now to focus on the patient, you can figure out whatever you need to later on. She’ll need space because the following months will be hard until the birth, then we can take the bullet out.”

His firm statement laid above Tommy, Y/N and her mother like they were holding a fragile veil. Everyone trying to keep their side up while checking the others to prevent it from touching the floor.

“Now if you excuse me, I’ve to run some tests.”

Tommy caught the cue immediately, but Y/N’s mother didn’t move. “If you excuse me Mrs?”

She scoffed and gave the doctor an offended look before leaving the room.

“Sorry about that.”

“For what? I didn’t see anything.” He gave her a reassuring smile, helping Y/N relax for a moment at least.

Y/N heard a voice in the distance, but her eyes felt heavy. The pain expanded through her body like a wave back and forth. It was hard to find a comfortable position to sleep in but she didn’t want to complain, she was alive because of some miracle.

She just wanted to be alright for her baby, she couldn’t wait to hold the little bundle in her arms.

Slowly she opened her eyes and waited until they adjusted to the light of the room.

“Where you dreaming?” Her sister Lee Anne asked, her eyes full of curiosity.

“Yeah, I was rocking the baby to sleep.” Y/N replied, the image was so vivid. “Where’s everyone?”

“Grandma went to the house to have some rest, Mum is running some errands…” Lee Anne then looked to the door.

“What is it?”

Y/N knew her sister so well, there was something she wasn’t telling her.

“Mum had a disagreement with Tommy and asked him to stay away from you, then you woke up and I heard Mom and Dad arguing again about what will happen when you get discharged.”

Y/N tilted her head up, to the ceiling not wanting to get into that just yet. She could tell her Mum wanted her home again by the comments she had been making all day. Small hints here and there, making decisions about her life, about her child.

“But I don’t want you to worry.” Lee Anne quickly tried to explain.

“Let me guess, Dad is still against it.”

Her sister felt a rush of guilt take over, but she wanted Y/N to know what was happening.

“I’m just done, you know?” Y/N expressed tiredly.

And suddenly Y/N broke into tears, she was a crying mess. Feeling all over the place she couldn’t even name her feelings. The sudden memory of getting shot assaulted her, blood and shouting surrounded her, and when she saw Tommy’s face full of panic, the fear in his eyes was all she could see every time she closed her eyes.

The realization of what might have happened, if the bullet had hit her stomach or her heart…

“It’s alright.” Her sister tried to comfort her, but it wasn’t working.

She had been trying to be strong. But she was scared.

“What if they try to come again and finish what they started?” Y/N asked, her voice full of worry.

“I won’t let that happen.” Tommy’s voice filled the room, neither of them noticed he was standing close enough to hear Y/N’s words, so he took them by surprise.

“Tommy…” Y/N said his breathlessly, knowing him the way she did, she knew he felt guilty, she could see it in his eyes.

“Even if I’ve to stand outside your door all day and night, I promise you nothing bad will ever reach you again.”

Y/N nodded, trying to not break in front of him, her sister sneaked out quietly choosing to wait for her Mother in the waiting room.

“I’ve taken care of that already, they better no try to hurt y-”

Y/N froze as she processed his word. “Wait, what do you mean? What happened ?”

Tommy looked away, he desperately wanted to change the subject. “Nothing.”

Placing her hand on his arm, she made him look down at her. “Tommy, tell me what did you do.”

Suddenly his tie felt so tight.

How could he tell her he killed someone? He was trying to make his businesses legal, he wanted to make her feel proud of him.

Towering over her, Tommy cupped her cheek gently, giving her a look of adoration. “You’ve nothing to worry about, hmm?”

Staring into his eyes, she realized he wasn’t telling her something, but at the same time she could see the worry in his eyes… and something else she couldn’t name, but yet she felt familiar with.

“Listen, Y/N there’s something I need to tell you.”

Tag list:

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@natalie--rushman @elliaze @justrainandcoffee @teawonderfultea-blog1

[cosmerelists]

If We Had Cosmere-Themed Chess Sets...

Now that I think about it, these might simply exist. B-But anyway, here's how I think a chess set could be constructed thematically from various Cosmere books.

[Spoilers! I wouldn't read these unless you've read the series mentioned in the title]

1. The Stormlight Chess Set

King: Elhokar. He is the king and also, and I say this gently, he doesn't do much or go very far, typically. Just like the king in chess! Queen: Jasnah. Is the queen...albeit at a different time than her brother is the king, but eh. Very powerful. Can move anywhere. Might be the strongest piece on the board. Bishops: Kadash and Pai. I just think they should be Ardents, and I picked my favorite two. Knights: Renarin & Adolin. Renarin because he should be the piece that moves in the most unique way. No one else moves in an L shape! And Adolin? Well...not gonna lie. I just think Adolin should be a horsey piece. Rooks: Dalinar and the Sibling. Dalinar because he needs to be a piece that is strong. That moves in a firm, straight line. That can do that castle move which is about protecting the king. And the Sibling because they are literally a tower. Pawns: Bridge 4. Main purpose was to be sent out to die, although if they make it allll the way across the board they can get a very special powerup and become one of the most powerful pieces on the board.

2. The Mistborn Era 1 Chess Set

King: Kelsier. Yes, the game is supposed to end if the king dies. No, Kelsier-King does not play by the rules. Queen: Vin. I mean, she's a Mistborn, which to me is parallel to being the piece that move in any direction as far as it wants. Very powerful. Bishops: Hammond & Dockson. Stand on either side of the queen and king. One can only move on black squares, and one can only move on white, which symbolizes how Ham & Dockson are on the same side but rarely see eye-to-eye. Knights: TenSoon & Marsh. Knights make hard turns as pieces, and these are characters who are always making hard turns: TenSoon from one side to other, from one body to another (and yes, I gave him the animal piece. Sue me). And Marsh from human to Inquisitor to, uh, Death I guess. Rooks: Demoux & Spook. I can't tell you why rooks read as "true believers in Kelsier" to me, but they do. And I kinda like these two as a pair. Pawns: The Skaa army that Kelsier tries to recruit. Sorry to those men.

3. The Mistborn Era 2 Chess Set

King: Harmony. Can't do much himself, but does direct the other characters. If he gets killed (shattered), the game could be over for Scadrial. Queen: Wax. Harmony's sword. Can zoom all over the place killing other pieces. Bishops: Steris & Marasi, as the resident believers in Survivorism. Knights: Wayne & MeLaan. Yes, I'm realizing that I see kandra as the little horsey pieces, I guess. And the knights can't move straight. And neither Wayne nor MeLaan are straight either. Rooks: Ranette & uh...Marsh again? Am I forgetting someone? Why are there so few characters in Era 2? A-Anyway, Ranette and Marsh definitely make sense because they're both, uh, support characters. Ranette making weapons. Marsh dropping info. And the Rooks are there to support the king! Pawns: All the kandra. Pawns of Harmony, every one. Bleeder is the really angry one determined to make it across the board and get promoted.

4. The Elantris Chess Set

King: Raoden. As a dead guy trapped in Elantris, Raoden doesn't have a lot of moves he can make. But dang is he really good at doing a lot with a little. Queen: Sarene. Sarene, on the other hand, has a LOT more freedom of movement and she uses it. Bishops: Hrathen and Dilaf. Hilarious to have them on the same side as Raoden and Sarene, I know. But listen. They gotta be the church pieces. Knights: Galladon and Karata. Since knights trace out the letter "L" and the Elantrians need to draw symbols in the air to do magic, I thought...wait. I swear this made sense in my head. Rooks: Kiin and Eondel. Kiin because the rooks kinda look like they're wearing a crown and Kiin was due to become king, and Eondel because he's the guy who has the strong private army. Pawns: I think it would be fun if the pawns were people with the Shaod, since they could become really powerful but they aren't currently.

5. The Warbreaker Chess Set

King: Siri. Not only does Siri spend the whole book being shuffled from one room to another (like the king can shuffle one square at a time), but a major plot point is Keep Siri Alive when the other side tries to kill her, so. Queen: Susebron. I do want Siri and Susebron to be king & queen, and it just works better this way. Once he gets his powers figured out, he's an all-powerful sort of guy. Bishops: Lightsong & Blushweaver. They're literal religious figures. Knights: Vasher & Vivenna. Mainly because they're warriors. Rooks: Parlin & Llarimar. I know Llarimar should be a bishop because he has the hat, but I like the Returned gods as bishops. So I made him the rook--and Parlin too (as soon as I remembered he existed. Sorry, Parlin). They're both there to support/protect another character. Pawns: I think they should all be soldiers from the Lifeless army.

[junebugsarchive]

manager nam x reader ; headcanons ver.

summary: headcanons of manager nam x fem! reader

pairing: manager nam x reader

details: mentions of using contraception . not much of warnings other than that . anon request . all headcanons are my opinion, i'm not forcing you to agree with them! . all dividers used are from @cafekitsune . all pictures used are from pinterest

a/n: i love him i love him i love him i love him when yall see this man i want you to immediately think of me and the im his main im his side im every woman that's in his mind sound because he's my goat oh my fosh 🤑 anyways, enjoy babes! thanks for the ask, this was highkey fun to make.

your no. 1 supporter

this man is the greenest green flag when it comes to support and encouragement

you saw this gorgeous dress on display but not sure if it'll look good on you? "go ahead and buy that dress, you look good in anything." you want to sign up for sewing classes? he's immediately doing extensive research on all the sewing workshops nearby and background-checking all the employees. you're struggling to carry all your shopping bags? he's dropping everything to rush to your side and help you carry them to the car.

date nights. date nights. i can't really envision him going out to expensive restaurants (idk why, i'm sorry), but i feel like he would prefer simpler date nights as well, like just sitting down on the sofa with a box of pizza and face masks bc u insisted, watching some corny rom com movie

this man is rich rich. given his job, there's no way you would ever be short on money. he feels bad because his job doesn't really give him a lot of time to spend with you, but he makes up for it by transferring millions and millions of won into your card every month to spend on clothes, manicures, skincare, whatever you needed

pouting to him because you accidentally spent all the money he had given you? no worries, he'll simply press a kiss to your crown and transfer more money, giving you a little extra "just because".

god i love this man

lives for forehead, hairline, crown kisses bc let's be for real, this man is huge. i'm not exactly sure of his height but let's just assume he's super tall, and you have to be standing on your tiptoes just to be able to kiss him properly

because of this, it would be more convenient for him to press kisses to the top of your head before he rushes off for work

very protective

his years as a mercenary have honed his awareness skills (??), and he's really good at detecting threats to you. for example, there's a man that keeps following you around, and you're not even aware of it, but manager nam's already excusing himself to go beat the guy up - or kill him, it depends on his mood that day.

you don't ever need to worry your pretty little head whenever you're around him, because he's already taken care of every threat in the area before you're even aware of them <3

if he's busy on a mission tho, he'll get a bunch of bodyguards to follow u around bc he's just gentlemanly like that

(borderline overly-protective but you beg to differ)

i feel like he would def be like manager kim and hide his occupation for you.

sure, he did mention lightly that he's a contract bodyguard, which is why he's so rich, but he refused to tell you anything other than that, because in his words he has to "protect the clients' privacy" (he's lying he doesn't mention the part he's also a contract killer / mercenary). i mean, it wasn't exactly a lie, right?

he can't say he's never thought of starting a family with you, but between his busy schedule and the constant threats looming behind his shoulder, he would want to wait until everything settles down before giving you a child. until then, he's very strict on using condoms and ensures you take the pills before and after yall do the deed.

but when you guys do have children, he would be an amazing father to the child, no matter their gender.

as a girl dad, he would definitely dotes on her like he does to you, but he's really strict on ensuring she doesn't end up too bratty and constantly trains her in self defense so that she's capable of protecting herself and her mother from creeps. your daughter would def grow up to be a total hothead and extremely protective of her mother, and insists on having "girls night" and literally kicks her depressed father out of their shared bedroom lol. tbh, manager nam's just a total softie for his family

if he was a boy dad tho, the tables would turn because i feel like he would have really strict training regiments and standards for his son, and they're both fueled by the constant reminder that they need to protect you <3 always fighting for your attention it's almost funny lol. until your son grows up and petty arguments turn into full-blown fights that leave you fuming and refusing to talk to them for days because they broke your favourite vase

in conclusion, manager nam is a total simp that would bend over backwards just for you. if he respects and admires manager kim, he 100% worships and adores you with all his heart. every day you spend with him feels like a dream <3

10/10, total green flag that would do anything to keep you happy. as long as he sees you smiling lovingly at him, he's happy.

[turbobeebee]

I have this thought in my head when I imagine if Okarun and Momo were to get married and have children in the future and what kind of parents they would be…

I feel like they would have 2 (at most 3) kids together

Ken Takakura as a father:

- He would be reading all the parenting and child-raising books he could get his hands on. He’d have piles of notes and be up late at night weighing the pros and cons of different parenting styles

- He would be especially cautious with his first child, cushion every surface they walk on, keeping a close eye so he can be ready to catch them if they were to fall

- His heart would be bursting with joy at his baby’s milestones. First steps, first words, he would write all of it down so he could have an exact record of every achievement

- though he’s not the best at making up stories, his nighttime routine to put the kids to sleep would involve telling them about how vast the universe is, filling their minds with dreams extraterrestrial worlds (friendly ones, as he doesn’t want to give them nightmares)

- He’s equally attentive to his wife (Momo) as he is to the children. He’s quick to scoop them up and get them out of her way when the house gets too hectic.

- His eyes would sparkle with pride attending their recitals, baseball games, talent shows, spelling bees… whatever his kids get into, he’ll be supportive all the way.

Momo Ayase as a Mother:

- She would be endlessly grateful to Okarun being so proactive before, during and after her pregnancy. She would still make the effort to help around the house despite her husbands constant fretting for her to sit down and relax

- She would take all the photos of their little family vacations and contribute to her husband’s documentation of their children’s lives. Together, they would make a beautifully cohesive scrap book

- Momo’s children will be FASHIONABLE. Even as toddlers she would gush about all the cute outfits her babies can wear. Knowing as they get older they will eventually decide for themselves, but right now, how could she NOT put them in cute animal onsies

- Attending school events and competitions, Momo would be heard cheering the loudest for her kids.

- at bedtime, when its her turn to tuck them in, she would have the most whimsical, fantastical stories to tell. Her husband would sometimes be standing nearby, listening intently to her as well.

- Momo would train her children early to start focusing their chi. So yes, she will make them hold their fingers over their heads as they walk to school just like her.

[f1amour]

˖ ࣪ 𖥔 NO ONE NOTICED — CARLOS SAINZ

[social media au + some real life]

pairing | carlos sainz x mexican!reader

face claim ★ danna paola

content warnings | age gap (reader is 22) angst, suggestive content

authors note | not spell checked. based off no one noticed by the marías. if anyone would like a part two with a happy ending let me know <3 posting this to start off some manifestation that carlos wins the vegas gp please just one more win with ferrari 🤞🏼

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liked by carlossainz55, alexandrasaintmleux, carmenmmundt, landonorris, bellahadid, dulcemaria, and 842,496 others

yourusername monza gp was amazing as always. now off to my home for a little break 🇲🇽🤍

➥ view comments below

user1 she ATE every single outfit at monza

user2 girl might as well post carlos in the second slide we all know that’s him😭

alexandrastmleaux pretty girl 💓💓💓

yourusername please that’s all you 🤍

carmenmmundt hermosa! can’t wait to see you

yourusername reuniting so soon i love you😭

user3 kind of new to the fandom but how does she know so many wags??

user4 she’s a singer and occasional youtuber who was invited to sing the national anthem of mexico at the mexico city gp in 2021. it’s been rumored she has a fwb situation with carlos but never been confirmed even though she’s been spotted in his garage at multiple races

user5 carlos needs to make it official atp she’s his biggest supporter despite him constantly saying he’s not in a relationship and doesn’t want to be in one

user6 our girl deserves better if he wont appreciate her then let her find someone who will

♥️ yourusername liked this comment

─────────────────────────

SEPTEMBER, 2023

You walk close behind Carlo as he makes his way back inside the house after having a relaxing day at the beach he’d saw the dms from random people about you liking a certain comment “It was an accident. I thought I was liking Carmen’s comment and I don’t know my thumb slipped or—.”

“An accident? You responded to Carmen way earlier that comment was made hours later. Just stop lying for once in your life, yn!”

“No that’s now fair, Carlos. You say I lie all the time? I lie for you! I don’t want this anymore. I want something real…that’s the truth.” Your eyes well up with tears overcome with emotions you sit on the bed feeling deflated.

Carlos sighs and sits beside you, “Y/n…we said from the beginning this would be—.”

“No feelings attached only sex because with both our careers being busy a relationship would not be healthy for us. I have that memorized, Carlos. I know we agreed to that and it was going well,” You quote what he had said to you the night after the México City Gp in 2021 where you two had spent the night together.

“I thought I could have sex with you and have no feelings for you but how can I not? You…you always know what will cheer me up. You are the first person I call or text in the morning even if I’ve had a busy week. You know exactly how I take my tea or coffee, you kiss me with a passion that makes me believe you love me too, you hold me like you never wanna let go…how can I not fall in love with you?”

And there it was. The three words Carlos had been trying to avoid from you not because he didn’t feel the same way but he knew his life and your would ever be stable for a relationship. Among other things he just knew this may not end right if you got into a relationship but now looking at it, this situationship was ending now.

“Y/n…I don’t feel the same way.”

─────────────────────────

SEPTEMBER, 2023

liked by yourusername, user1, user2, user3, and others

smoothoperator_updates carlos has won the singapore gp!!! this is a huge accomplishment after redbull dominating season so far. congrats carlos! 🏎️

➥ view comments below

user1 anyone else see yn like this post? why was she not there😭

user2 yn in the likes because she unfollowed carlos…my heart is breaking

user3 they definitely ended their relationship or whatever it was after the monza gp just a few days later she unfollowed him even though he still follows her

user4 y’all go check f1gossiponthepaddock recent post…carlos is horrible for that

f1gossiponthepaddock spotted! carlos sainz cozying up and kissing mystery brunette at a club celebrating his singapore gp win. sources at the part said he never left her sights and was very hands on. quite a fast rebound after being spotted with y/n y/l/n just a few weeks ago.

comments are disabled.

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NOVEMBER, 2023 • PODCAST INTERVIEW

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yourusername posted a story !

slide 1 tan lejos de mi, te sigo pensando. me canso llorando.

carlossainz55 posted a story

slide 1 i wanted to stay, i wanted to be there. i wanted to hold you, but i was afraid. i should've told you.

[court-jobi]

hi! i love your works so much!!! i was wondering if i could request a hawks x pop princess f! reader?

like he does security for her groups concert and hes like “pffft im number 2 why do i need to be here”. then he watches her during sound check and is like okay i need to know more about her. so while shes getting ready hes just hovering backstage trying to talk to her. after the show she finally gives him her number (def against her companies wishes) and hes like trying to be suave and flirty and shes like “oh my god why is this working”. just a lot of hawks being a lover boy and sending gifts to her company anonymously and cutesy stuff like that lol. they have to keep their relationship a secret bc her company has a very strict no dating unless we agree rule. can be pre or post war hawks btw! you can take this wherever you want with it as well! can be nsfw or not.

im sorry that was so long! i was trying to make sure my thoughts were coherent lol.

Ooooo I love this idea so much, what a lovely dynamic to picture: a fanboy Hawks for a change, perhaps?? ~ this was a fun one to work on! @strwbrrykthv i sure hope this one was worth the wait and that I've done it justice!

You all are seriously the best readers a gal could ask for, and these requests are ✨giving me life✨~ Keep 'em coming!!

Who Has the Mic

Words: 4.3k

Rating: T

Warnings: Pro Hero!Hawks x popstar fem!reader, forbidden romance, flirting, mostly FLUFF, mentions of canon-typical threats, protective instincts, Hawks is a little shitTM, we love him your honor

for my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Hawks falls prey to a special thrill out of extending favors to others. 

‘I owe ya one’-- such a simple nicety that in the beginning, he doubts anyone would truly come to collect on it. It makes him sound agreeable, charming, starved for connection even before the height of his inevitable fame. 

Then he rose and rose in the hero rankings, securing himself into the very visible and wildly popular top spot, in terms of viewer popularity. 

It’s now that the redemptions of Hawks’ pro-hero favors have come rolling in… The unexpected keeps him on his toes and entertains him for the most part; and if it’s all for the sake of protecting others, then why not have a little fun with it? 

Once upon an overbearing press conference, back when he was first tiptoeing into the public scene… Hawks begged a makeup artist on staff for a spot to hide out in the green room and sneak a snack or two (or ten). He was granted pity for a teenager expected to take a seat at the table of an albeit boring Commission presentation. Well, it seems that particular makeup-artist rose within the talent realm themselves, and ended up reaching out to “that flyboy kid” back for a surprising accommodation: 

Top tier talent warrants top tier security.

Hawks takes a call at his agency and soon finds himself ushered in for the Tokyo opener of the reigning top-of-the-charts pop star with a voice of gold. The first meeting of old acquaintances led the Pro-Hero to tour the brand new, sky-high facilities, then return for the load-in day of the stage. Again for first dress, and each night of the week-long residency.

He carries his presence on the stealthier side, far above the stage floor in the scaffolding. Up here, lights are rigged with steel supports running every which way, where he executes perfect balance while walking in a straight line atop them. He’s checked -double and triple- that each outlet is free from hazard, each line of multi-ton equipment has been secured and safe, so that even his ‘adventuring’ from up high is not a risk.

He’s happy for the variety of work he faces as a hero- but right now, he’s bored. He shouldn't be feeling so dreadful, especially on the job, but he is. It’s not his style to be so down, after all. But Hawks has checked into every nook and cranny of this place and for the sake of an understandably hypervigilant security team, has an eye for which points of entry and exit could use a bird’s eye view come showtime.

His muscles are used to far more fast-paced antics and time-sensitive chases; not traipsing around like a literal vulture ready to swoop in at any moment. Surely he’s needed elsewhere.

But the threats have been rolling in… as they do for all of these larger-than-life musician types who found their way into the spotlight. They’re at risk of going in blind if they don’t have a good team around them to help them see.

So here he is, playing guardian angel to do his part and make sure all goes smoothly. It's a big operation by his count; there’s sixty members on the tech roster, plus the venue stage manager and their contracted staff, then all performers, and of course the headliner. Now where she is, he’d like to know– for not so selfless reasons.

He’d know her music by heart, given how much of an earworm and personal anthem her songs have become for him. It’s rare that the tables are turned, where Hawks is the fanboy and someone else is the idol. That dream is his dangling carrot for completing this mission successfully: he has the most sought-after bodyguard duty in the nation, and as good as a front row seat to her show.

Yet in a weird sense, Hawks also kinda hopes he never meets her. Doesn’t want to crush that bubble, ruin the allusion of the woman he’s got set as his ringtone.

So, he just runs his headcounts on all bodies supposed to be present at the top-of-show meeting to busy his mind. All is in order. ‘Cues’ are rounding up the pre-show acts, each in plainclothes for this rough stumble-through. Still doesn’t see the little starlet yet, and he gets the residual feeling that this might be typical behavior of ‘the talent’ to show up whenever she damn well pleases. 

Though funnily enough, he spots a pretty thing down there sporting some Hawks merch! Always nice to see a supportive fan in the most unlikely places… 

It's a well-fitting quarterzip sporting his red feather blades down each arm, an item he vaguely recognizes from this season’s newest launch. She’s got headphones on and subtly bopping about in her own little world, perhaps running through tonight’s set under her breath, if her self-contained taps of the fingers are an indication of her keeping beat. 

Hawks’ curious attention to that girl on the fringes of the stage is pulled when he hears the strict timbre of the stage director he’d met on day one take center stage.

“Ok, time to rein it in. As we covered in the email from Sec-Eng- which I’m assuming you gen-z’ers have read,” the bossman snarks to the younger members of this crew down below, “we’ve got some additional eyes in the sky pulling security for this leg in the tour. So, I want to give you all a chance to get your excitement out -along with your thanks- to our equally chart-topping hero, Hawks~ who’s… somewhere around here.”

Hoodie girl blanched– as if she’d been told she’d need to share her internet history to her grandmother. Immediately, she tosses off her headset and starts frantically stripping herself of the jacket she wore. While enthusiastic heads all fly around in every direction in search of the hero, Hawks chuckles at the sight of her alone. 

“...//Well, he’s probably checking the perimeters anyway//. How bout we all just send a big thank-you, eh?”

The couple of ‘Hoodie’s fellow dancers were poking fun at her -poor thing still flushed and clammed up- while the group gave a loud, singsongy ‘thank you!!’ up to the stage doors, assuming the Pro-Hero might be busting in, grand entrance fashion on command. The love-laden response from the dancers makes Hawks roll his eyes lightly, but he appreciates their praise all the same.

They giggle about in jazzed excitement with one’s voice carried out squealish and feminine, despite their professional assembly,

“Oh my god, you must be in HEAVEN!! He’s gonna be watching you ALL NIGHT!”

‘Hoodie’ looks downright mortified. The others have seemed to gather around spouting nothing but encouragement to this little fan girl who's doing her best to put on a poker face. Adorable. 

“Now we also need to make some edits before the crew breaks for lunch, everyone, so we are gonna start today with opening of Set 5 instead- hold.. Hold on… WHO HAS THE GOD MIC??”

The mics table scrambles for the one handheld microphone with omniscient audio range to the house. Surely it's the one thing they wouldn't lose and should hand straight to the Stage Manager, right? 

Well, said mic was sitting unattended there on the cart earlier… all for the Winged Hero’s taking when he was making his preliminary sweep earlier. 

From his inner jacket pocket, Hawks catches his lip in his teeth as he remembers where to turn the thing on. Once his throat cleared and the mic blinks red in sync with the soundboard, he amplifies a little trademark bird whistle: for each and every soul in sight to hear. 

The stage erupts in excitement, as planned. ‘Hoodie’ immediately teeters over to one of the props hideaways and stows said jacket away. 

Hawks chuckles with the mic at chest level– only to call her out from his perch,

“Saw that, dear~”

Seems logic caught up with the poor thing, as she -finally- pieced together the true vantage point of her idol’s presence, and looked up. 

Sparing her too much embarrassment, Hawks simply cocked his head on a folded up fist and gave a little wave of some fingers to her. 

Despite her clear shock and surprise, she did smile brilliantly back and gave a little signed ‘thank you for being here’ rather than a scream like all the others.

The stage manager followed her line of sight to where the hero stands in wait, ready to dismount and return his bit of cheekily stolen equipment. Despite some bewildered aggravation to Hawks’ antics, he gestures with the exhaustion of a high school teacher.

“There now, see kids? That's how you protect your voices before a show!! Better than belting your way to the doctor’s office. Our star here sure leads by example now doesn't she–” 

In rare form for the hero, it's Hawks’ turn to be stunned. His fangirl: it’s you.

Everyone else may be calling that first call time your lucky day… but you were intimidated to the point of feeling ill. Thank goodness for your poker face; because locking eyes with Hawks’ stunning crimson canopy and giving you that wink and a grin about sent you into a heart attack. 

You're starstruck. The absolute heartthrob of an idol you revere as your favorite Pro-Hero has been standing over 150 meters above your head, watching for every sign of danger that could threaten you for the last week. 

That near guarantee of safety would trump your fleeting nerves– if you hadn’t given the first impression of a closeted fangirl like you did!!

Nothing short of awe crossed your mind when you so much as think of the hero. A very vocal fan whenever he came up in the news or your social feed amongst your inner circle. Hawks is a household name for you, who you were incredibly fond of… both in how he handled massive crowds or charmed in intimate, one-on-one interviews. 

You know the role; you suck up for cameras, too, as it's all in the optics. But for every PR-guided response you know is crafted by easy-going smiles or a disarming tone, you remember to see past the spectacle of Hawks and look for ‘him’. Remove the wings and hero getup: who is he? Can you spot the tells on camera like your mom can when she watches you? No matter how big of a global phenomenon her baby girl gets, she can still tell when you have a headache while having to give an appearance on a talk show. 

The man you spot on screen has to have a series of faults and slips. Even battle-ready heroes put their shoes on one at a time– just like everyone else. He’s sure to have a favorite lunch spot, a favorite pen to use for autographs, a favorite singer, even… 

Surely not you, but a girl can dream.

There’s a glazed-over glint in Hawks’ eyes when he very subtly checks out when being spoken to which gives you the strong suspicion you two may not be so unalike. And that list of little mannerisms has grown exponentially– with every day that's passed:

Hawks has difficulty staying still, you've learned. He’s also much younger than people assume. Carries a crafty habit of popping up unexpectedly in a way that’s youthful– and borderline cheeky. From atop a stack of amps, to a crowdless green room, to the rigging of lights where you've stunned the crowds for the last four nights, he’s perched out of sight from your thousands of fans. 

Though each little comment thrown here and there in praise has floated down to your ears in sweet jest, things come to a head when the last night of your show arrived: where the crushing realization sought to dampen your mood. 

After tonight, you wouldn’t have your angelic, crimson-winged shadow anymore. 

But Hawks surprises you once again. 

You nearly miss it, too, once your final round of ‘surprise songs’ is revealed and you are snuck down to your assigned hideout to get ready to leave the venue. It’s back in your can-lit dressing room that you’re making double takes down the hall looking for any sign of your security team; especially the one to whom you owe a hefty ‘thank you’ to for all his efforts.

-but as your half-redressed form has donned your beloved Hawks hoodie once more, you’re not so spooked to hear a familiar whistle from behind you this time.

Headphones slung back down around his neck and wings slimmed down to a more presentable manner for tight hallways like these, Hawks slips into your prep space with a speedy uptick of steps. A knowing whisper to ‘shut the door fast so no one notices’ eeks out of him, eliciting a smile from you.

Each one of your suspicions are confirmed with that one comment alone; he knows this game well. Still, playing along with his dance of keep-away from any prying eyes (or cameras) doesn’t mean your heart isn’t  hammering away in your chest at the knowledge of getting your hero all to yourself.

So here, Hawks traipses around your makeshift room with unbidden interest– which, for such a small space, is cute to know how many little details pique his curiosity. Your various outfits still hang all facing the correct way, your personal backpack sits beside it on the end featuring your mess of pins and collected patches from the locations you’ve toured thus far. The run schedule is still taped on the wall, and below it, your laptop has your notation software open and idle onscreen.

“Well, now,” Hawks chimes in with a little crouch over the back of your empty chair, “Surely I’m not looking at our next chart-topping hit in the making, am I?”

“Maybe!” you chuckle, joining his side to quickly save your work before you forget. “It’s getting the lyrics and melody to marry right that’s the hard part. Working out the latter right now, and it’s kinda kicking my butt.”

“But you’re doing it! Look at all this– wait. Is this what you were dancing to earlier?”

Damn his powers of observation. You’d been testing out the rhythm of the hook this week– when you’d been caught under his attention.

“...M-maybe?” you hedge again.

“I knew it-” Hawks beamed, “A stunning starlet and a mastermind. What can’t you do?”

Flattered beyond belief, you answer honestly, 

“Keep myself outta trouble with my managers. Trying to, at least,” you close the laptop to conserve its power, “but between the shows and speaking engagements, it’s left me a bit starved for time to actually make the music.”

“N’why would writing get you in trouble?”

“It takes me away from all the other things I ‘have to do’,” you sigh easily. “They can bring in anyone to make the music and keep pitching songwriting teams to me to take the load off. Just think something’s gotten a little out of balance.”

Without meaning to, you held Hawks’ attention– enough to make him sit back on the armrest of your couch and listen with undivided attention while you explained your creative process more. While most J-Pop performers would be thrilled to have outside writers create the work and easy into a performance schedule with pre-set work to learn, you loved to have a hand in the writing process too. As an art form, it’s personal when you have to perform season after season. 

You’ve chatted quite a bit here and there over these last several days, though not this extensively. He was interested in so much about this whole operation, to the point where you wondered if he’d ever met any of the performers who you knew presented at some of those hero galas he went to. Apparently not, by the way he’d lock onto your every word when you spoke. Either your timekeepers (or his) would inevitably interrupt you, so back to work you two would fly off to.. though you’d seem to circle back to one another and chat about anything and everything if given the chance- little spurts of talk that always left you wanting more.

He’d commiserate with you on that front as well– the balance of stardom and freedom. Bogged down by meetings and public appearances wore on him just as much as you. With every roadblock you described about your recent album development, Hawks nodded along with expected understanding. 

The revolving issue of personal safety might have brought him into your employ, but you know more and more cases like yours filled up his day-to-day life in ways you couldn’t imagine… but he even shed some light on that as well to you. He’d burst the bubble on hero work as an industry through little asides with you offstage: comments he’d likely get reprimanded for if he ever spoke them in a public statement. 

But you’d keep his secrets safe. What happens on set stays on set.

So even now, as he’s tucked himself into your dressing room while you puttered around chatting about your true dreams of getting a new concept album wrapped by the end of the year, Hawks tuned in with genuine interest that only made your heart skip a beat for him more.

“I haven’t always gotten the time to work on it lately… though this week, I’ve had a clearer head to be in here rather than under lock and key with a security force breathing down my neck– which is largely thanks to you, Mr. Hawks.”

“Oh please,” Hawks scrunches his nose and teases, “Mr. Hawks is what the lawyers call me. Just Hawks is fine!”

You exhale, squishing back any girlish outburst from your voice at how fussy he looked. 

“All the same, thank you for your help this week,” you pressed, “It’s -uhm- not often I get to meet my favorite Pro Hero on the job…”

A pleased smirk lifts Hawks’ cheeks, though you spot a funny kind of shyness in them when he studies your sleeve rather than look you in the eye-

“Favorite, huh?” Hawks smiles, “ n’here I thought I was the lucky one, sweet’eart-” he taps his headphones for emphasis, “One day I’m listening to you on repeat on my morning commute– and the next, I’m standing two feet from you!”

“--You’re kidding.”

From his pocketed phone, Hawks challenges you with a press and hold on the speakers to boost the volume as high as it could go. Faintly, you caught your own pop vocals from your second ever album casting from Hawks’ headphones. 

You can’t believe your luck– he’s really a fan? Of yours?

The mix of sentimentality and surprise must be palpable on your face as you grasp exactly which song has Hawks spellbound before he cocks his head with a sheepish grin of his own, 

“Believe me now?”

Words fail you, but you shudder out a little giggle that speaks volumes. He tests with a smile,

“Soooo guess you wouldn’t mind if I asked a horribly stereotypical favor and snagged a selfie while I’m here?” 

Eyebrows shot up to the sky as Hawks dangled his phone between you, you immediately pause. No one on your Communications team is still backstage (to your knowledge), but the engrained warning about checking your professional list of partnerships before posting comes to mind… annoying as it is. All you want is a pic with him, too!

“Nothing for socials-” Hawks assures you with a gloved hand, “If your handlers are just as pesky as mine, they’d never let me live it down. Just– something to keep me grounded, on the hard days.”

That reasoning… it almost broke your heart just as quickly as your potential disappointment had been earlier. 

With a knowing smile, you nodded sweetly to Hawks- he’s charming in a whole new light to you.

“Only if you send it to me too, hm? Favor for a favor?”

“ ‘Course!”

Sliding up into his open space, Hawks clearly knows his best side but keeps you right in the center of his shot. That smile he makes… you are going to keep this proud glint in his eye and sight of his hand around you locked into your mind forever– even if he forgets to send it to your insta handle after this. 

It’s too brief of a moment, watching his wing curl around you though the phone’s front-facing camera burgeoning you close, head tilting gently against yours. Keeping a close-lipped smile seared into your mind when you think of him now.

Then in an even more lightning fast moment, while he’s fussing with a weird flip of his bangs, you reach to tap the shutter as you sneak a kiss onto his cheek. 

He’s stunned by the move, but by the even brighter muted smile, you stand by with pride double checking his photo gallery that the shot made it. It surely did. 

“You have a hard job, Hawks; harder and more dangerous than anyone I know,” 

You step away casually.. Though the need for distance is more for your sake than just optics of your forwardness. 

“... Thought you deserved more than one lil selfie. Hope that’s ok?”

“H-okay?” Hawks breathes out, studying his camera roll with reverence, “Better’n ok..”

Outside a muted feedback from the PA system is calling for Exit team to assemble– get staged for your departure from the venue at last.

“That’s me. Better bounce-” Hawks piped up after a small clearing of his throat. You’re nearly too shy to look at him after this-

-but when a kiss greets your hand, lifted imperceptibly fast and squeezed just as fleeting as his words grace your ears- you couldn’t look away if you tried.

“- a pleasure, dear.”

And before you can utter any further word of thanks or manage something other than a shocked smile, Hawks slips out of the room and off to hand the reins back to your team. You can barely hear from the still-live walkie talkies that your security detail is back at their regular stations, and your Pro-Hero is off for his final step of his hired work. Soon he’d be relieved of his station and off to save someone else from an unsavory fate.

He doesn’t forget to send you the photos; and you now have his private insta handle.

The photo where you snuck a peck onto his cheek would be set as your internal screenshot if it weren’t for your niece’s constant borrowing of your phone when she visits you on set… 

But now, you’re back for a month-long stay at the studio– your reward for a successful first half of the Tour.

Encouraged by your protective muse’s spark at the thought of your new music, you decide to take that energy back to Chichibu. Your headphones might as well be glued to your head, with how much you’ve head-dived into your sound mixing apps and sampling library. In fact, it’s that unwavering attention to your music that you nearly miss the most obvious sight walking through the lobby of the unassuming recording studio. Almost.

But how could you really– when the largest floral arrangement you’d ever seen is gracing the reception table? That stunning piece looks like it costs more than the linoleum flooring the desk sits on. 

A few aides have been distracted by the sight, studying the typed message attached and racking their brains for any sign of a calling card. One of your cutting room techs was currently rounding the base of the standing arrangement for some tucked note, which made you giggle how intently she was studying the thing. 

You know the sound booth manager best out of this group of other visiting accompanists,

“Lucky, lucky girl~” she reels you in excitedly, plucking the card from the other’s sights and handing to you directly. “Sorry to say there’s no hint who it’s from… but it’s for you, little bird!”

You hedge at the pet name once again– the nickname stuck unwillingly not only for your melodic talent, but the association with your clear celebrity (heroic) crush. 

However, as you read the note, the immediate assumption that this may have been another gift from a venue host was thrown right out the window…

This was a personal gift:

To keep my genius company while she makes her magic~ No one can give us the stories you can; don’t ever  let them take your voice. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve heard. Can’t wait to hear the new demo!

“No matter how high or low I am.. a piece of me will be here with you. It’s- where I'd rather be... Till next time…”

“Next time? Wait, who sent these again?!”

“It was just the delivery guy, from that really flouncy place downtown~” the receptionist answers with interest.

“Nooo, I mean on the card! Who signed the card?

“There's nothing– no initials, nothing..” you confirmed, still reeling over the message. But as you trail off over the cascade of tropical flowers, the flecks of red blooms catch your eye and bring you to study harder. 

Then- tucked under some deep green curls- a spot of red hides. A quill amongst the mossy padding of the arrangement- not unlike a surprise found in a nest.

Sifting through under the guise of feeling tender petals, you grasp the soft, downy feather which bears a small post-it flag on the underside with a sequence of numbers on it. 

“Do you have any idea who?”

Balling it carefully in your fist just as quickly, you answer, “Couldn't tell ya. But the pop of red sure is pretty, isn't it?”

In your booth -set up with your sticker-laden laptop and butterflies in your stomach- you hold the sticky note in one hand, pinching the crimson feather precariously in the other. 

Face warmed and unbelieving of your luck, you think on what to send first to your mic-stealer…

To be continued?

[martiandmichelle]

Now it's settled.

I had reported a few weeks ago that I was gaining weight to fit what Roxy and I saw for a character I'm playing in an adult video series - a matronly woman. I usually set my upper weight limit at 150 pounds (from my usual 135) but decided to go a little higher, maybe 155.

Being very partial to my tits, I liked how I looked and felt at 155 as my boobs had increased to an X cup from the usual W. I let my weight drift up to 160 and became a Y cup. I LOVED it. But, being in entertainment - sexual entertainment at that - I wanted to know what others thought. The ladies here at Mountain Media supported me though some worried about what the extra weight was doing to me health-wise. The guys here at the studio were, not surprisingly, all for it, but the real test was what the Board of Directors (BOD) thought. Dana brought it up to them and, by a surprisingly lopsided vote (13-2) they went all in on my new weight. (Note: We now have 15 board members to improve investments.) There was one last test: medical.

Just after Hurricane Helene, the BOD added on on-site physician to "protect their investments." The physician's name is Shannon, a very lovely and sexy lady in her late 50's. She came to us by recommendation of one of the board member's wife. Shannon had recently retired from practice; her late husband was very wealthy and when he passed Shannon herself became wealthy on top of her successful practice (a cardiologist). Shannon went over my records and gave me a thorough physical, lab tests, and a few x-rays and MRI studies and declared me fit to handle the weight. She worked with Dana (a women's health therapist prior to being our onsite manager), Gail (a nutritionist before becoming a model and our house manager), and Gina (a nurse practioner) to set up healthy weight gain and maintenance.

I'm all set to go to 170 and see how I feel - and how big my tits become!

Then, this morning, I was on a phone call with our CEO and Board Chairman, Bas, and with Dana. I try to stay out of the business side of this thing, but they wanted to talk to me. The October earnings statement was finalized and, in terms of income, October blew away all other months. (It was also the best "bottom line" month but after adjusting income for expenses the difference was still the best yet even if spending was way up on construction and hiring.) Willow and Emily continue to do very well and Maria seems to hit a home run every time - so congratulations to them! But, and I'm embarrassed to say, my earnings were, well, way above expectations. "It's the bigger tits," Bas mused. (I give Roxy a lot of credit for some great scripts, Lin kudos for her fantastic camera work, and the rest of the support team for all they do.) "Maybe," Bas said. But in his typical Dutch no bullshit manor he repeated. "It's the tits."

So get used to seeing a heavier, larger-busted Marti. You'll still see some of my more glamorous photos from the last year and some of the older stuff, too. Hope you all agree that bigger tits is the way to go for me?!?

Marti