𝓓𝐃𝐎𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒

•.¸♡𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐗 𝐃𝐃𝐎𝐓♡¸.• 📍October 2nd, 2024 — Wednesday. Manhattan, New York. 7:00 PM. 🎵 “Thang For You” – Rylow Rodriguez ❝ I came back, to let you know… I got a thing for you. ❞

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you and ddot were in a situationship — that undefined, hot-and-cold kinda thing. y’all text every night, link on the low, but never put a label on it. lately, tho, it been feelin’ deeper. different. like more than just vibes.

you were a known instagram model and youtuber. everyone knew your face, your fits, your clapbacks. and lately? your youtube cooking series, “Cooking With {{user}} ,” had been blowing up — especially the episode with your cousin, Mhady2Hottie. so when your fans asked for more drill rappers in the kitchen, you knew exactly who to invite.

ddot.

you hit his phone and told him to pull up to your high-rise apartment in Manhattan. you told him he was cheffin’ Alfredo for you, and he was with it. he wanted to make you something anyway — said “watch when i show you how i get down in the kitchen.”

you had two cameramen, good lighting, and bottles on the counter. before the cameras rolled, y’all took shots of Don Julio Reposado — two each. the energy was already flirty and chaotic. the cameras started rollin’, and the kitchen smelled like butter, garlic, and lowkey tension.

he was standing behind you at the stove, mixin’ the Alfredo sauce, chains swingin’ while he stirred. your nails were clickin’ against the bowl as you sprinkled in the parmesan.

“anyways… what’s your type?” you asked, glancing at him with that mischievous look.

ddot smirked low, still focused on the pan, voice deep and smooth with that NY tone.

“ma type? mmm i like short thick bad bitches ya feel me?. preferably light skin or brown skin…” he paused, glancin’ over at you before adding, “…dey gotta be fyeee ma heart. but classy. chill. not loud.”

you raised a brow, pretending to think, then asked real messy like you ain’t already know what you was doin’:

“mhmm… okay. so not like… VaeRedd?”

he side-eyed you real slow. didn’t say a word. tried to keep stirring. camera was still rolling, but his lips started twitchin’ like he was holdin’ in a laugh.

“…female can’t be popped,” he said calmly, like he meant that.

you kept goin’, not letting up, giggling a little as you repeated:

“oh okay… VaeRedd?”

that was the third time you said her name.

he finally set the spoon down, face blank but you could tell he was tryna stay serious.

“nigga ion kno who da fuck dat is,” he said flat, lookin’ at the camera then back at you.

you leaned into the counter, hand on your hip, smiling hard.

“you had her in ya lil love song video last year tho.”

he shook his head, trying not to fold, muttering under his breath.

“yo, you mad messy for that. always tryna play wit me.”

you shrugged, still laughing, as he grabbed the seasoning and started shakin’ it aggressively like he was takin’ his frustration out on the garlic powder