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Always See Your Face
New girl! Reader x Eddie
Summary: There is a new girl at Hawkins and Dustin will do anything to make sure Eddie doesn't find out.
Warnings: slight sexual innuendos, cursing, mentions of drugs. Y/N is described!
A/N: Hi! This is the first time I have written a fic in a while but I hope you enjoy it! Depending on the feedback I get from this I might write more :) FYI perspectives in this story will change and will be indicated by: --
--
Dustin had always been one to have his friends' best interests in mind. He might have overstepped boundaries at times but he knew what was best for him and his friends. Even though Eddie was several years older than him, he still knew that the last thing Eddie needed in his life was a girlfriend. What if he started hanging out with her and Hellfire stopped existing? What would happen with his band? Everything would go to shit because some girl would grab his attention for 2 seconds.
Dustin found himself every morning before school sitting in the back of Eddie's van with the back doors open. Eddie let them sit in the back and read comics while he would perform his drug deals for the kids who had extracurricular activities after school. Dustin looked up from his X-Men to observe a car he had never seen before. Strange, but not uncommon to see until he saw a figure he had never seen before.
She dawned a black denim jacket adorned with several Metal and Punk bands that Dustin would not be able to recognize but had seen in Eddie's vast cassette collection. Her legs were barely covered by a short red plaid schoolgirl skirt and her chest was wrapped in a Sex Pistols T-shirt. She was bending down to seemingly grab her backpack from her backseat and several football douchebags whistled at the response of seeing her backside. This did not catch her attention though as she quickly grabbed her backpack and placed it on the roof of her car. She glanced at Dustin and he felt himself gulp. Fuck- He was staring at Eddie's dream girl. He frequently heard Eddie go on tangents that no girl in Hawkins had the same interests as him. Now he proved himself wrong- Dustin could prove it with his own eyes. Not only did she have his style but she had a pretty face similar to that of one of the girls from one of Eddie's porn mags that Dustin had unfortunately found in his van. They both shared the same long brown hair and doe-shaped eyes.
What was Dustin going to do? Not only was this girl weirded out by the amount of time Dustin had been ogling her but she could ruin everything. She did not even understand the power she possessed by simply existing in the wrong place and at the wrong time. He had to do everything in his power to make sure neither of them saw each other.
Dustin's feet started to jog in her direction as she had already begun her strut to the front entrance of the school. Before Dustin could get the chance to tap her shoulder, she swiftly turned to face him, discomfort shown in her face.
"Hey man, I would really enjoy it if you could leave me alone." She barked.
"No no no! I don't mean anything bad by following you. I'm sorry for staring at you earlier but um... Oh! The principal had actually sent me to give you a tour of the school and to show you where your classes are!" Dustin had secured a good enough lie to not seem like the creep he was presenting himself to be.
Her eyes widened and her gaze softened.
"Oh, okay." She smiled and Dustin could feel himself getting more anxious knowing that she was that pretty when she smiled.
The bell began to rang, signaling to every student that it was time for Hell to begin. Dustin heard a familiar voice call out to Mike and he swiftly grabbed her hand and pulled her into the school, making sure to avoid any possibly common route Eddie normally took.
"Can I see your schedule?" Dustin asked, giving out his hand eagerly.
It seemed like she could hear the annoyance in Dustin's words and swiftly pulled out the crumpled sheet of paper from her pocket and handed it to him. Dustin quickly looked over the paper and let out a sigh of relief. Even though she was a senior, she did not seem to have a single class with Eddie most likely because her classes were for the more advanced students.
"Okay, Y/N. This way!"
Dustin guided her to her first classroom, Mr. Stadford's Physics class, and said that he would meet up with her after her second. After the first period was over, Dustin ran to meet up with Y/N and to make sure he was able to beat her before she left the classroom. Yes, Eddie and her shared similar hallways for classes but Eddie had a tendency to be late to each and every class he went to. Alongside this, Dustin made sure that she was always early to her classes. This cycle repeated until lunch.
--
Y/N had found herself bound to the little curly-headed boy. She shouldn't say boy he was only a couple years younger than her. Moving was hard but going to a new school was even harder. Her parents' divorce could not have been more sudden and even though he had been a tad bit too eager, she really appreciated Dustin's kindness.
She frowned after exiting her third-period class to find no Dustin. Guess she would have to find the cafeteria by herself or simply follow the crowd that had corralled its way down the hall.
Once she entered the cafeteria, she felt the eyes on her, all over her. Thankfully, there were plenty of tables that had not recognized that fresh blood had entered their school. She saw a familiar head of curls bobble in laughter and she started her stride in his direction.
Once she had gotten to the table, it seemed to be filled with only boys all wearing the same T-shirt Dustin was wearing. She assumed it must be some sort of club he had not introduced her to yet. The majority of the boys had noticed her walk up to the table and she could tell they were not often approached by women. The only ones who hadn't noticed were Dustin and an older boy with long shaggy brown hair.
"Hey," She put her hand on Dustin's shoulder and her moved her head down to his level. "I know you showed me around and I might be asking for too much but is it alright if I sit with you?"
A look of dread filled Dustin's face as he looked up at her from his lunch. She had automatically assumed that he had felt bad for not escorting her to the lunch room.
"It's okay! I found the lunch room just fine." She rubbed his shoulder to put him at ease and sat down next to him.
There was nothing but silence.
She had felt as if she had sat at the wrong table and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Dustin was still agape and didn't seem to have changed his expression even after her reassurance. She turned to view the other boys at the table. They stared at her with a sense of confusion and wonder but all too awkward to speak first.
Finally, she turned to the boy sitting at the end of the table. His gaze softened when she gazed at him. His eyes were wide also in shock from a stranger sitting at their table but there was something different in his expression that she couldn't quiet read. Embarrassment? No. Confusion? No. Longing? Maybe but not quite.
This silence was cut short by a food tray plopping on the other side of Dustin.
"Jesus, that line was long!" A boy with a bowl cut sighed.
"Where are you guys so quiet?" He looked around in disbelief but immediately found the source when he spotted the brunette sitting on the other side of Dustin.
"Hey." She waved.
--
A/N: Depending on how things go with this I will definitely continue this as a series. Lemme know your thoughts!
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson#stranger things#SoundCloud
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Here's a recent scenario I dreamt up for a mutual. Enjoy.
You're riding the bus. It's late, the last one on the line for the night. You're seated in the back, alone except for a tipsy middle-aged man sitting a few rows in front of you, his messy suit and wedding band standing out for this time of night.
The bus stops and two young punks get on, decked out in black denim, shit-kicking boots, and spiked bracelets.
They walk to the back where you're sitting and rudely crowd you in, almost acting like you're not there. They're joking and laughing as one sits on each side of you. As the bus pulls away, the lights flicker a bit and dim. It's older, probably just needs repairs.
One of the punks reaches over to snake a beercan out of the other's backpack. You're annoyed at how they're pretending like you aren't even there, until you realize, the way he's standing, he's grinding his cock up against your side. It feels hefty, weighty, and you start getting distracted, realizing he's keeping it there longer than he should.
You feel the other slide in closer to you as well. Now they're both pushing up against you.
The first leans down and whispers in your ear "you feel that, huh?"
The other laughs under hushed breath "I think he likes it. Told you he was a fag."
"Oh yeah? You feel what I'm packin, huh?" The first one shifts and is standing directly in front of you. You can smell him, musty and sweaty and slightly sweet. You feel his warmth as he leans against you.
"I'll bet a faggot like you couldn't help himself if I did this-"
He surreptitiously unzips his fly and lets his half hard cock flop out, pressing it into your face.
The other laughs again, his hands reaching for your thighs, brushing over your crotch. "I think he likes it, he's getting hard already"
"Man, wonder what he'll do if I do this then" he rubs the head of his dick on your lips and without thinking you let them open and start taking him in your mouth.
The second loosens your belt and slips his hand under your pants, under your boxers, to feel your throbbing dick.
He starts to stroke you as the first starts sliding back and forth in your mouth.
"There you go gayboy, fucking take it all, show me how bad you want my fucking load"
You feel yourself struggle to take it as he picks up his pace, grunting. You feel him start to throb, his breath hitching, as precum leaks out onto your tongue.
The second is stroking you faster and harder now, growling in your ear.
You suddenly feel a flood of cum hit the back of your throat, so much you gag and cough and struggle to take it.
"Excuse me..."
You look up in panic, seeing the older businessman. He's noticed the noise and is standing in the aisle, staring. For a moment time seems to stand still.
"Can I get a turn?"
The punks laugh and beckon him forward "this guy's a grade A cocksucker" the first one announces.
"I'm more interested in seeing how breedable a bottom he is" says the second, pulling you into his lap and sliding your pants and boxers down to wrap around your ankles.
As you feel his already hard cock teasing you, the businessman fumbles with his slacks. He pulls out his cock - it's shorter than the first, but thicker. He grabs your hair and forces you to look up at him "god you could be my son" he says, but his cock throbs and stiffens. "I haven't been sucked in so long. Please. I need this."
You stick out your tongue as if on instinct as you feel the head of the punk's cock push into you.
The businessman slaps his hefty dick on your tongue before guiding it in, thrusting fast and hard, guiding you hand to cup his balls. They feel heavy, and you feel them start to twitch almost immediately as his face turns red and he lets out a gutteral moan.
The punk's dick is pushing deeper and deeper into you as he growls in your ear, picking up the pace and thrusting over and over while pulling you onto him by your hips.
Your moans and whimpers are muffled and overcome by both men's frantic panting and groaning as they use you.
Almost simultaneously, you feel them start to quivver. Knowing what's coming next, you try to struggle, but it's too late. They flood you with cum, until it's dripping out of you. You moan and whine, as the punk reaches around and swirls some of his cum leaking out of you, using it as lube to stroke your dick.
"Now cum, faggot" he whispers in your ear as he jerks you off, his cock still inside of you, pulsing and pushing more and more into you.
You heard the man. Now cum, faggot.
#force masc#ftm nsft#ftm breeding#ftm bottom#ftm sub#ftm ns/fw#ftm t4t#t4t ftm#corruption kink#ftm daddy#group play#boy group#queer nsft#trans nsft#nsft trans#lgbt nsft#faggot humiliation#submisive faggot
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perv!jeno

fourth time trying to get this to show in the tags, i’m so sorry ㅠㅠ
warnings: dubious consent
milf!lover jeno who is such a perverted piece of shit, appears innocent on the outside as he attends his favorite class, just to see his favorite professor in question, you. but on the inside, he’s thought of the dirtiest fantasies, with no ounce of shame that you were twice his age. who could blame his desires, when you looked so fuckable in your professional attire.
the only reason he hasn’t failed physics is because of his attendance record. without your presence, he would surely have been sent to the Dean’s office for his negligence.
his chosen seat in the lecture room, elevated in the back, gave him just the right amount of obscurity to palm himself through his denim jeans as he watched you pace back and forth along the ground floor.
he actually felt sorry for you.
you seemed disheartened by the lack of enthusiasm in your students, their ambition thwarted from the harsh realities of university—student loans, terrible diet, and all the other vices that came with being a young adult.
jeno knew just the thing you needed. someone like him to destress your mind and body. someone like him that would ravage you beyond repair, so you no longer cared about the miniscule details.
fucked so hard that all you cared about was him, and his raging cock.
every day he prayed to whatever god just as vile as him, that the slit in your pencil skirt would grow a little taller. maybe even a hole would appear in your sheer pantyhose; he always loved the look of that.
if you were inquisitive enough to look past his nerdic qualities, you would never go back to men your age. jeno knew he was the entire package.
but jerking off in his dorm room just wasn’t fulfilling his needs anymore. and his roommate got tired of the constant, wet sounds of him beating his dick into oblivion every night out of the week. so much so that just last week the dorm RA held a “wellness meeting” per request of his roommate.
jeno shook his head free of that poor excuse of a therapy session in regards to his masturbation addiction. today was the day that he would approach you after the lecture.
with a hefty sigh, you said your usual,
“don’t forget the discussion post due tonight by 11pm! everyone have a good weekend!”
you knew your reminder wouldn’t hold much weight. there were only a few that would actually participate. but there was only so much you could do.
and it was a well known fact that physics was among the most-hated subjects here.
luckily, this was the last class of the day. and the weekend was just around the corner. you were excited to try out a new cookware set that your daughter brought you for Mother’s Day, even inviting her and her fiancé over for dinner tomorrow as a show of thanks.
as you packed up your laptop, and planner into your leather tote bag, you were surprised to find that the lecture room wasn’t empty yet.
the last one, Jeno Lee, had just reached the final step along the walkway.
you paused on your gathering of items, deciding to give your undivided attention in case he had a question or concern.
the only concern you had, was the hard-on poking past his light blue denim jeans.
it was painfully obvious, and quite intimidating considering his slim stature.
“is everything okay Mr. Lee?”
you tried your hardest to keep your eyes focused on his face, even deciding to zero in on his browline glasses to distract you from his groin.
“yeah everything’s fine.”
he stood in front of you like nothing was amiss, casually hooking the single backpack strap on his left shoulder, his other hand resting in his right pocket.
“if that’s the case, i’ll go ahead and have my leave now. have a good weekend.”
you failed at making it less obvious that you were dying to get out of the lecture hall. it wasn’t out of distaste, far from it.
rather, you felt disgusting for liking what you saw. everything down to the simple plain white tee, loose-fitting jeans, and light blue Jordans made you rub your thighs together as you stood there. even the veins that tensed along his forearm as he clutched his backpack strap was enough to make your breath hitch deep inside your chest.
fortunate enough for you, your phone buzzed with a notification from your daughter as you made your way to the exit.
bringing the phone up to get a clearer view of the message proved futile, as you felt his warm hand snatch your wrist, causing your phone to flail out onto the linoleum floor.
he waited until your back was turned, like the coward he truly was, to go in for the kill. your entire body swung back to face him, with a single yelp escaping your lips as you tried to fight against the whirlwind that was your student.
you winced as he escorted you back to your desk, back arching from the sharp strike to your spine. chest pressed firmly against his own as he let his backpack slip off his shoulders and onto the floor. the third button to your white dress shirt had popped open upon impact, revealing a lacy black bra that was waiting to be ripped apart, much to his liking.
you were overly sensitive to the stimuli he forced upon you; wrist beginning to sting from his harsh hold, waist feeling singed down to the bone as he gripped you there with his other hand.
upon opening your eyes, you were met with a being that surely dreamed of this moment. to watch as you felt his dick prod at the middle of your skirt, licking his upper lip in concentration as grinded upwards into your clothed heat.
his blissful expression soon turned to disappointment as your pencil skirt provided too much of a barrier between his swollen cock.
he would have to take care of that soon.
despite letting up on your waist, all of your thoughts of an escape were in vain as you heard the familiar unclasp of a belt buckle, yet somehow you couldn’t forge a call for help, not when his lips were millimeters away from your own.
your eyes trailed from his blown pupils to his mouth as he spoke, nowhere near prepared for the filth that fell from his lips.
“i hope you don’t mind that i give you another one, since you’re already a mom…”
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𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐍𝐞𝐰



𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Lamont Diggs x Black!OC
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - In which Cree decided that it was time to shut her haters up and get back into the music scene. She also needed a night out on the town in the city of Miami after being near her sister for more than five minutes. But she didn’t know how fun the night would be with no friends…
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Mild alcohol consumption, flirtation between two different men, family conflict, mention of addiction, suggestive themes, slow-burn tension, vulgar language…
𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - I have a Spanish oral exam tomorrow that I haven’t studied for and I’m so nervous. But here I am, writing about a fine as man. Where are my priorities? Anyways, UNEDITED, sorry for any spelling errors or grammar mistakes.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 12,075 +
Even though her nephew has been under her care newly since he was born, one thing Cree could never get used to was waking up before the sun early in the morning. She absolutely dreaded it. Each morning when the sound of her alarm startled her awake, she’d pray that some outside force would just shut the dam noise off, before realizing that the task lay solely upon her to wake her from her slumber.
After starting too many mornings in a pissy mood, she finally got one of those sunset clocks that chirped birds sound to raise her from her sleep. But that only helped her wake in a less shitty mood because she still hated early mornings and now she had to get two people ready for the day. That is why she made sure to always keep her routine simple and efficient.
Getting up at 5:30 am, she’d take the quickest shower known to man, not once picking up her phone because she knew it would distract her. She showers and does her hair to speed up the process of getting ready in the morning. She also does her win routine as quickly as possible in front of the mirror before moving to wake up Raheem. It’d take a little coaxing, rubbing the boy’s back before slightly shaking him to get the deep sleeper to finally rise and use the bathroom. His clothes were already locked out the night before, and he knew how to dress himself so while he did that, she went to get breakfast started.
Now, Cree has the funds for a chef if she wants one, but after everything that went down with her manager, she decided to not have so many people in her inner circle anymore. She had her family and that was all she needed, no matter how hard things got. And if it came down to it, it would just be her and Raheem, like always. That being said, she simply whipped up some eggs with two sausage patties and half a banana for him while she settled for the other half and some oatmeal, which she already knew was going to end up on his plate anyway.
He watched cartoons on his iPad as he ate while she tried not to get caught up when the childish story so she could have important phone calls and answer emails. After making her mocha coffee and putting it into her cup, she had everything packed and was on her way out of the door with the small boy.
That was how their average day went. So this Friday morning, Cree was just following routine as she dropped Raheem off at school. She pulls up to the front and parks her car, making sure to remind him to behave as they did their handshake. They were sort of matching this morning, back shirt with denim shorts and red shoes, although he was much cooler with his Spider-Man paraphernalia. She gave him a kiss forehead before watching as he walked inside with his backpack bouncing on his shoulders.
Cree was too focused on watching Raheem walk away to notice the woman standing a few feet away—until she spoke.
“He’s very polite.”
The thick Miami accent caught Cree’s attention, making her glance over. Standing there was a brown-skinned woman dressed in a grey two-piece set. Cree was about an inch taller than her, with flawless makeup, a warm smile, and perfect teeth. Cree returned the smile, small but polite. She was sort of guarded, knowing if this woman knew who she was or not, but she wasn’t good enough to be rude.
“Thank you.” She said softly.
A brief silence settled between them. Cree gave Raheem one last look before turning to leave, but the woman spoke again.
“I’m Nia.”
Cree paused, turning back to face her. Behind her large shades, Nia couldn’t see her eyes, but she could make out the rest of her face clearly. Up close, she was almost certain—this had to be who she thought it was. And when Cree gave her a soft smile, extended a hand, and said her name, it only confirmed her suspicion.
“I’m Cree.”
Nia matched her smile, trying to mask her reaction at the information she knew she would get, but still didn’t expect it. “It’s nice meeting you. My daughter talks about Raheem all the time.”
Cree nodded, not picking up on any ulterior motives. “Yeah, Raheem says she’s super smart,” Cree stated, although she was too clear on who the woman was speaking about there was only one girl that Raheem spoke about, and that was…what was her name? “Always competing with him and Mateo in math class. Great job.” She complimented, looking the woman up and down with an impressed look. Raising a confident black girl was no easy feat, people are constantly trying to knock them down a pedestal and it starts young. So even though bee nephew was probably getting beat in math class, he didn’t have a problem with it so neither did she.
Nia just chuckled, shaking her head. “Thank you, but that’s all her. She’s just built like that.” Her smile softened, turning genuine as she thought about her daughter—the girl she was raising practically on her own. She was so proud of the little girl she was seeing her daughter become and she wasn’t sure if that was by her making.
Cree scoffed lightly. “What? Nah, you seem like a good mom.” She said with a small shrug. But before Nia could respond, Cree had glanced down at her watch. “Uh, I gotta go.” She said quickly. “But it was nice meeting you, Nia.” She offered a quick wave before turning in her heels and heading to her car.
Nia watched her drive off, maintaining a polite smile. But the second Cree was out of sight, she pulled out her phone, opening Instagram with a smirk.
Nia hit record, angling the camera just right as she leaned against her car. The Miami sun hit her skin perfectly, and with a subtle smirk, she spoke into the camera.
“Y’all… I knew I wasn’t tripping. I just met this lady at the school, and tell me why she looked exactly like—” she paused for dramatic effect, adjusting her shades, “Cree? Y’all know Cree? Y’all know y'all know Cree, now. That singer that went MIA after that scamming-ass, broke-ass, bum-ass manager drama? Mm-hmm, yeah. I ain’t saying it was her… but I ain’t saying it wasn’t either.”
She let out a little laugh, keeping it playful, then flipped the camera to show a quick view of the school parking lot before cutting the video. She wasn’t about to blow up the woman’s spot—not yet, anyway. But if she really was Cree, then damn… what the hell was she doing in Miami, dropping off a kid at school like a regular mom?
Shoving her phone into her bag, Nia glanced in the direction Cree had driven off, her mind already working. If this really was Cree, this could get interesting.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Cree pulled up to the studio, exhaling as she cut the engine. She sat in the car for a second, letting the quiet settle around her before finally grabbing her bag and stepping out. The sun was high, the Miami heat wrapping around her like a thick blanket even in her shirt clothes, but she barely noticed. She had work to do.
Inside, the hall was dimly lit, the faint hum of bass leaking through the walls from other sessions taking place. She made her way to her usual room, the one she had rented out for her while she was here, and pushed the door open. The familiar scent of leather, stale coffee, and the faint scent of weed greeted her as she set her things down and made her way to the console.
Her laptop was back where she had it last, on her right-hand side for easy access while she messed with the mixing board. She powered it up, clicking through her files until she found the song she had been working on last time. The melody played through the speakers, filling the room with soft, dreamy keys and a gentle rhythm that pulled at something deep inside her.
It was the song. It just had this vibe to out that she enjoyed so much, and it was something a little different from her. She had nearly finished writing it after leaving her last session. The lyrics were there, the composition and mixing practically done after hours in the isolated and soundproofed room. All that was left was recording.
She leaned back in her chair, letting the instrumental play through while she sang the song out loud. She had poured herself into this song, capturing a feeling she wasn’t sure she even deserved anymore—the quiet, aching kind of love, the type you hold onto even when everything else is falling apart. It felt real. It felt like her.
But before she could even get in the booth, her thoughts drifted. As much as she loved her second home, the circumstances as to why she was her weren’t all that good. And every time she thought about that scamming son of a bitch, a sour presence entered her mouth. She left a place she’s known since she was a child because of the contact harassment from not only paparazzi, but also random ass people. And keeping Raheem safe wasn’t an option in that environment.
And the thought made her angry all over again.
Her jaw tightened. All of this was because of him.
Her scamming-ass manager.
For the first time in weeks, she reached for her phone and opened Instagram. The moment the app loaded, she was bombarded. Notifications flooded in—tags, messages, reposts. She barely skimmed through them before something else caught her attention.
Videos. Posts.
About her.
About the case.
Headlines, think pieces, and worst of all. And it was expected, the main reason she stayed off of any social media app flaunted the stupid scandal hit the mainstream. It the worst of all of this—her manager’s words, twisting the narrative while she had been off the grid, and dumb motherfucka’s were falling for it. Then, just as she was about to exit out, her eyes landed on something that made her stomach drop.
It was a Shade Room post with a familiar face.
A woman, in a video, talking about her—about Cree being in Miami.
“That singer that went MIA after that scamming-ass, broke ass, bum ass manager drama? Mm-hmm, yeah. I ain’t saying it was her… but I ain’t saying it wasn’t either.” The voice said through her phone. The vide has 35 thousands likes and was only posted an hour ago.
Cree’s blood ran hot.
This was why she stayed off social media. This was why she kept her circle tight. Because the moment people thought you were vulnerable, that they had something over you, they talked. Talked get getting something for their own gain, talked just ti see you down. It was sick behavior and Cree was true if being cordial, she was tried if being the bigger person. So she did what she knew best, and that was second to whopping ass. She’s gonna write, and she was gonna make a bag off of it too.
Cree’s hands balled into fists as she took in a deep breath, her nails pressing into her palms. This might be the last semblance of peace she’d have for a while know that folks knew where she was. And if they wanted to talk, she was going to give them something to fucking talk about.
She tossed her phone onto the couch and grabbed her notebook, flipping to a fresh page. She wasn’t about to sit around feeling sorry for herself—she was about to write.
And she didn’t stop.
For hours, she was locked in—writing, mixing, layering beats. The dim studio lights blurred into the background as she worked, her hands flying over the equipment, crafting something raw and unfiltered.
She had been sitting on this one beat for a while now. It was time to bring it to life. But for that, she needed him.
Cree quickly grabbed her phone, so hooked on rage and adrenaline that she didn’t even think before finding his contact and clicking his name to FaceTime him. Joey, it read, with a red heart emoji behind. That name has been a contact within her phone since she could remember, it’s been years and no matter what they’ve been through, she’s never changed it.
It wasn’t until the sound of ringing hit her ear that she had any semblance of hesitation and she couldn’t even sit in that for long because two rings later, the phone clicked as the man answered. His deep, familiar voice coming through and she saw that same cocky smirk she expected.
“Two calls since you been in Miami. You must really miss me, shorty.” She said, the subtle lisp he had coming from the grills he has in his mouth.
A tired smirk tugged at her lips as she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever Joey.” She said, her voice just as tired as her grin, although it was all an act to tease the man she called.
Joey leaned into the camera, studying her. “Where you been at, ma?” He asked. “You called me about the studio two days ago, so I know you ain’t been working this whole time. You can’t be going ghost on me, Cree.”
She huffed, running a loose curl behind her ear. “I’ve just been busy, aight.” Cree stated, subconsciously ducking her head to hide the blush that crept up her face at the nickname he called her. “Taking care of Raheem alone isn’t exactly easy.” She mumbled.
“But you’re not alone, you with your grandparents.”
“Yeah, but the whole reason I even take care of Raheem is to give them space. They’re too damn old and dealing with Karmen is enough.” Cree sighed, leaning back to twist slightly into her rolling chair.
“Yeah.” Joey sighed as well, both of them thinking about the girls older sister who was wild child and a damn handful and a half. “But you know I always got you.” He stated, and Cree saw him as he licked his luscious lips, his gold teeth peeking through at her. His head was tilted in that easy that always got to her, looking at his phone intensely. Cree smiled at that, a small chuckle slipping through at his words. “Yeah, I know.” She said softly, adjusting her phone in her hand to show her face fully. “You know he misses you.”
Joey hummed at that, a small laugh sounded through the phone, but Cree could see a hint of sadness in it. “Yeah, I miss lil man too. That’s my twin.”
“Lord bless us all.” Cree mockingly groaned as she rolled her eyes, causing Joey to laugh. “Man, he can’t help it if he wants to copy success.” Cree smacked her lips at him. “Boy, please.”
Joey chuckled again, then sighed. “I’ma have to come see him soon.”
Cree paused for a second, her brow quirking slightly. “Yeah, you should.” She said softly, and for a second, there was a beat of quiet between them. The silence wasn’t awkward—it never was with them. It was just there, heavy with history, with all the things they never had to say.
Cree wasn’t sure if it was nostalgia or the exhaustion creeping in, but hearing his voice like this—soft, unguarded—it made her chest feel tight. There were years of history between them, wrapped in late-night calls, stolen moments, and all the things they never said. Things that didn’t even need to be spoken, because no matter what, they understood each other
“Anyways, let’s get into what I even called you for.” She retorted.
“You didn’t call me to talk and reminisce about when we were together?”
“No, Jovaughn, I did not.” Cree retorted. “I actually called for a favor.” She stated.
“Well, I’m gonna let what you said previously slide so I can tell you that I always got your back. Whatever it is, you know that.” Joey sajd. “So, what is?”
“I need your help.”
She explained the situation—how she had been in the studio all day, how she had this beat she couldn’t shake, how she needed to make something real with it. Joey was quiet for a moment, making Cree furrow her brows at the phone silently, but he then spoke. “You remember that track we made a few years back?”
Cree’s brows furrowed. “Which one?”
“The one from that night after your 21st birthday party.”
Then it hit her. That session. That night.
A slow smile spread across her face as she leaned forward in her chair, the memory playing in her mind. “That one…” She murmured, already scrolling through her files, silently reminiscing about the night her and Joey grew closer.
“That beat’s a classic. Soulful. Old school. I loved it then, I love it now.” Joey said. At that, it gave him an idea, causing Cree to watch him sit up in his seat and look at her. “Oh, shit. What if we do it together?” He asked.
“What?” Cree asked as she let out a small laugh in confusion.
“I’m sayin’—what if we really bring it back? Make a statement. Together. His gaze was locked on hers through the screen. “I mean, we ain’t ever did a song before, and we been locked in since before we blew up. It’s about time. And we could really send a message with this one.”
Cree’s fingers hovered over the track before clicking play. As the beat poured through her speakers, she nodded her head, feeling it. The moment it dropped, she heard Joey’s reaction—a quiet, appreciative “Sheesh.” Joey’s face lit up on screen, vibing right with her. She smiled, knowing he felt it too.
“This shit still go crazy.” He admitted.
“Right?” Cree grinned.
Joey exhaled. “Alright. Let’s cook. You start?”
“Nah,” Cree said, leaning back in her chair with a grin. “You first. Show me what you got.” She grinned. “Let’s run it!”
And just like that, they were back in sync—passing lines back and forth, building something undeniable. Something that felt like them.
For the next hour, they went back and forth—freestyling, bouncing lines off each other, deciding what to keep and what to drop. It felt natural, like old times. Like before everything got complicated.
“Yeah.” She murmured. “Let’s do it.” She grinned.
By the end of the call, they had something solid.
And Cree?
She was ready.
Joey grinned, nodding as he listened to the beat through the phone, looking at the lyrics he had written in his note book. “Yeah, that’s it right there. That’s the one.”
Cree smirked, already hearing different possibilities and a potential music video in her head. “I’m telling you, these few songs are gonna be the one. Shit just feels different now, B. But it need something—or someone.”
Joey raised a brow, cutting her off before she could even finish. “And that someone just happens to be me?” Cree rolled her eyes at him, flashing him a quick middle finger through the screen. “Don’t let it go to your head, Jovaughn.”He laughed, leaning back, stretching his arms over his head. “Too late. You know I been waiting on a track with you, shorty. This is overdue.”
Cree tilted her head, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “Waiting on a track? You ain’t never even asked.” She said, turning her lip up at him playfully.
Joey scoffed. “Because I knew your stubborn ass wasn’t gonna be the first to bring it up. Look at us now, though.” He smirked. Cree exhaled, shaking her head but smiling. “Yeah, look at us now.” She played along.
Joey’s expression softened just a little. “Send me the files. I’ma lay some vocals on it tonight.” This caused Cree to pause, her eyes snapping down to her phone in slight surprise. “Tonight?” She asked, raising a brow him. “You don’t even need time to sit with it?”
Joey smirked, tapping his temple. “Already got a verse in my head, a few written down. You forgot who you talking to, ma?” He quipped. Cree just chuckled, shaking her head at his usual copy behavior that’s rubbed off on her over the years. “Aight then. I’ll send it after I tweak a few things.”
“Bet. And Cree?”
She glanced at him through the screen. “Yeah?”
His gold teeth flashed in a knowing grin. “Don’t go ghost on me again.” He demanded with a subtle smirk. Cree sucked her teeth, but her lip did up turn in with a smirk she tried to hide. “Boy, bye.”
Joey just laughed, his voice warm and familiar, like it always had been. “I’m holla at you later, Joey.” She grinned.
“I’ll catch you later, shorty.”
She ended the call, staring at her reflection in the darkened screen for a moment before shaking her head, smiling to herself. This was about the music. Just the music. At least, that’s what she told herself.
It wasn’t long before Cree stretched as she stood up from her chair, feeling the hours in the studio settle into her body. She needed to move, clear her head. And besides, it was time to go pick up Raheem.
Grabbing her keys and phone, she slipped on her sneakers that came off her feet halfway into her session and headed out, shutting the door behind her. The hallway of studio building was quiet, save for the faint sound of a TV playing a sports somewhere in the distance.
As she turned to start heading down the hall to the exit door, she nearly ran right into him—Lamont.
Cree didn’t expect to see Lamont again.
“Damn, you always in a rush.” His voice was smooth, amused. Cree huffed, stepping back slightly. “And you always in the hall.” She shut back, a small smirk on her face. Lamont smirked, leaning casually against the wall like he had all the time in the world. He was dressed in his usual laid-back style—gold chain resting on his chest, dreads laid neatly on his head, a fresh pair of kicks on his feet.
“You on my schedule or somethin’?” he teased.
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Lamont. Move, I gotta go get Raheem.”She said as she began to walk past him. Lamont’s smirk didn’t fade, but there was something sharp in his gaze now, like he was piecing things together. “ Oh,word? Raheem?” He echoed, tilting his head slightly. Cree hesitated, not expecting the genuine interest. “He’s good.” She answered, shifting her keys in her hand. “And your daughter?” She asked, tilting her head at him. Lamont subconsciously licked his lip, looking her in the eyes. “She’s good.” He nodded slightly, his eyes drifting across her. Her curly hue was in an half up half down, and, some pieces hanging and framing her face.
There was a brief pause, the kind that lingered just long enough to mean something. Cree wasn’t sure what, but she felt it. Lamont’s gaze was steady, like he was sizing her up in a way she couldn’t quite read. Not in a bad way—just like he was thinking. Maybe remembering.
“You know.” He started, pushing off the wall slightly. “I was wondering when I’d run into you again.” He said, taking one step closer with his bend crossed. Cree raised an eyebrow, shifting her weight. “Yeah?” She asked, folding her arms as she with her bag hanging off her arm.
“Yeah.” His smirk deepened, just a little. “So you do music?”
Cree smiled a little unsurely, her gaze quick but observing as she looked at him. She then licked her lips with a nod, eyes bouncing away from him briefly. “Something like that.” She shrugged.
Lamont let out a low hum, nodding like he was tucking that little piece of information away for later. “Makes sense.” He mused, tilting his head slightly. “I mean, studio.” He stated, gesturing over to the door and she had come out of. “And you got that quiet, focused vibe. You know, like me.” He said with a shrug and a small grin. Cree scoffed lightly with a smile on her face, shifting her weight. “Oh, how presumptuous of you.” She said, looking him up and down. “And you don’t even know me.”
Lamont smirked, unfazed. “True,” He admitted. “But I know the type. ‘Cause I know myself.” He shrugged.
She raised a brow at that, giving him a quick once-over. “Yeah? And what type is that?”
Lamont’s grin widened just a little, but he didn’t answer right away. He just let the question sit, like he wanted her to think about it. After a beat, he shrugged. “The kind that don’t like small talk.”
Cree huffed a small laugh despite herself, shaking her head. “You got that right.”Lamont chuckled, low and smooth. “Figured.” He let his gaze linger on her for a second before stepping back, nodding toward the exit. “Go head, don’t let me keep you.”
Cree adjusted the strap on her bag and hesitated just a second before nodding. “Later.”At that Cree stepped past him, but before she made it to the door, she heard his voice again.
“Yo, Cree.”
She paused, glancing back over her shoulder.
Lamont gave her a lazy smile. “Imma see you around, aight.” He stated more than asked, locking his lips as she gave her a quick once over, taking in her legs in her cute shots and her red sneakers that complimented her skin. A small smile crept onto her face, the sun shining through the glass door and giving her this angelic look from Lamont’s point of view. “I’ll see you later, Lamont.” She said softly, barely audible due to her distant acne but heard in the empty hall. She then turned and walked toward the door, feeling his eyes on her the whole way. And for some reason, she didn’t mind.
Cree exhaled, shaking her head as she pushed through the door and stepped into the Miami sun, a slight breeze sweeping over her. She wasn’t sure why he seemed so interested, but she wasn’t about to let it distract her.
This was about Raheem. Just Raheem. At least, that’s what she told herself.
Cree did the same as any day, entering her car with a deep sigh as she drove off, head full of music and this mysterious man from the studio she keeps encountering. And she couldn’t help but wonder if she would ever see him again, or where. Her car hummed softly as she drove through the city streets, the music low and soothing as went to pick up Raheem. He greets the car with his usual enthusiasm after school, taking about lunch and recess. He sat in the back seat, tapping his fingers along with the beat of C.R.E.A.M, by Wu-Tang Clan. Cree glanced over at him, her expression softening.
“Hey, you ready for some family time?” She asked, breaking the comfortable silence. “It’s the weekend!”
Raheem looked up at her with wide eyes, grinning from ear to ear. “GG and Pawp? Oh, yeah!” He cheesed as she looked at the side of his aunts face. “We gonna have some fun!”
Cree chuckled, her heart warming at his excitement. She liked how he always looked forward to these visits. Raheem adored his great-grandparents, and Cree loved seeing them together, especially since her won parents were gone—her grandparents were a source of stability, wisdom, and warmth within their lives, and even though she hated leaving Brooklyn, Miami was also home.
“Yep, we’re spending the afternoon with them. You can hang with Grandpa in the garden, and Grandma’ll probably have some of her famous peach cobbler waiting for you.” Cree said, eyes focused on the road as they neared their destination.
Raheem’s grin grew wider. “Bet! I’ll help Grandpa with the plants.”
Cree laughed softly. “You just like getting dirty in that garden.” She quipped, cutting her eyes at him.
Raheem shrugged his little shoulders nonchalantly, innocently picking at the beads having off his backpack. “It’s fun, Mama Cree.”
“There is nothing fun about playing in dirty with worms and bugs, Raheem.”
“You don’t get it.” The small boy softly groaned. “You don’t even like getting flowers.” He stated, causing Cree’s head to snap back at him with her mouth slightly agape. “That is not true!” She said as she looked back at the road. “I just think they should stay in the ground so they can live longer.” She stated. It was silent for a moment then, causing Cree to look into the rear view mirror to see Raheem giving her a deadpan look. She furrowed her brows at him. “Girls like flowers in the movies.” He stated.
“Well, I’m not those girls in the movies.” Cree mocking grinned at him. “Now stop it, I can feel you judging.”
They arrived at her grandparents’ home a short while later, the familiar sight of the old house nestled on the edge of town bringing a sense of calm to Cree’s shoulders. The garden out front was in full bloom, vibrant colors of flowers and greenery surrounding the porch, and the scent of fresh soil filled the air. Cree parked, and Raheem was out of the car before she even turned off the engine.
“I’ll race you to the door!” He shouted, already sprinting up the steps. Cree’s face dropped in surprise, briefly pausing her movements of coming out of her own seatbelt. “Uh! You unbuckled your own seatbelt?” She called out to him, but Raheem payed her no mind. She sighed in defeat. “Slow down, lil boy!” She called after him, sliding laughing as she got out of the car and locked it behind her.
When she walked inside, she was greeted by the usual warmth of the house—faded but comfortable furniture, creek wallpaper that had now aged into a yellowish tent in the sunlight leaking through, the scent of fresh bread baking in the oven, and the soft murmur of her grandmother humming in the kitchen.
“There’s my favorite grand baby!” Her grandma’s voice called out from the kitchen, followed by the sound of her moving around pots and pans as she washed the dishes. Cree’s face slightly scrunched at her grandmothers words, thinking of her sister who was the woman’s other grandchild, but she still held a small smile at the woman. “Don’t say that, granny.” She mumbled, a twinge of guilt piling though her veins sharply as she stepped into the kitchen, her arms out slightly as she walked over and hugged the older woman from the side.
“Oh, hush!” Grace-Anne said, waving the girl off as she dried her hands.
Cree smiled. “You know your real favorite has probably already found Grandpa out back, right?” She said, moving back to lean against the banister of the kitchen entrance, watching Grace-Anne move around the space she seemed to never leave.
Her grandmother’s face lit up. “Ah, I figured. He’s just like his grandmother—always getting his hands dirty.” She said, letting out a small sigh afterwards. “You hungry? I just made some yams and cornbread to go with these neckbones.”
Cree’s stomach rumbled at the mention of it, and she smacked her lips before lauging. “You know I am.”
“Oh I know.” The older woman choked as she moved to fix her granddaughter a plate. “You need some meat on them arms, because it seems that all ya food goes to that behind of yours.” She said, her back to the younger woman. Cree frowned. “Uh, Granny—.” She started before turning her upper body to look down at her bottom with slightly pouted lip. But Grace-Anne continued.
“Or, you could start dressing a little sexier, put some effort into how you carry yourself. You a young woman, Cree. You can’t spend the rest of your days dressing like somebody’s gay uncle and expect a good man to just fall in your lap.”Cree groaned at that, running a hand down her face as she turned to take a seat at the dining table behind her. “Granny, no, I’m not about to do this with you.”
“And why not?” Grace-Anne asked as she walked out a little later, a hot plate of food in her hands. “I need to start seeing some grand babies out of you too.” She said, sitting the plate in front of the girl. “Raheem needs some siblings.”
Cree scoffed, taking the plate as her grandmother sat across from her. “Cousins.” She corrected firmly. “And I don’t know about all that right now.” She sighed, waving the conversation off with her fork before scooping up some yams. “I’d have to find a good man first—one I actually like, who’s respectable, and all that.”
“You can find you someone. You Foster blood, girl, you ain’t ugly.” Grace-Anne stated as she took a seat on the other side of the table, adjacent to the woman.
Cree snorted. “Well, damn. Thanks, Granny.”
“I’m just sayin’. You just need to get out of that damn house and go somewhere besides work,” Grace-Anne continued, leaning back in her chair with a knowing look. “What happened to that one boy you was seein’? What’s his name? Jason? Jaylen?”
Cree nearly choked on her food. “Jarod? Oh, no. That was ages ago, Granny.” She shook her head, stabbing her fork into her greens. “And besides, he was boring. Thought he was deep just ‘cause he listened to jazz and had a record player.”
Grace-Anne hummed. “Ain’t nothing wrong with jazz, but I see what you mean. Still, you got too much going for you to be spending your nights alone, Cree. There’s someone out there for my precious baby and if I have to find them, I will.”
Cree rolled her eyes, but deep down, she knew her grandmother meant well. It wasn’t that she didn’t want love—she just wasn’t sure if it had time for her. Between raising Raheem, working, and making sure her life stayed steady, dating always felt like something she’d worry about later. It all felt like too much of a chore to put on any man that comes into her life, she didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. But she also needed time to herself, right?
Before she could respond, the sound of the front door opening cut through the warm quiet of the house.
The easygoing atmosphere stiffened.
Cree’s chewing slowed as the sound of heels clicking against the wooden floor echoed through the home. Her grandmother’s expression remained neutral, but she could tell by the slight pause in her movements that she’d noticed, too.
And then, a voice Cree hadn’t heard in a while spoke up, smooth and knowing.
“Well, well. Ain’t this cozy.”
Cree exhaled through her nose, setting her fork down with a soft clink. She didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was. The air in the house turned thick the moment Karmen’s voice rang through the walls.
Cree’s breath caught for a split second before she turned toward the doorway. And there she was—Karmen, standing with a hand on her hip, her weight shifted to one side like she owned the place. She was thinner than Cree remembered, but not as bad as before. Her skin had some color again, and the wild, restless energy that used to flicker in her eyes had settled into something more controlled.
She looked… better. Or at least, she was trying to. Cree had seen this before.
“Karmen,” Grace-Anne said, setting her hands on her hips. Her voice was even, but her eyes were sharp.
Karmen grinned, like she shift the tension in the room. “Granny.” She greeted before turning her attention to her sister. “Cee.”
Cree let out a breath through her nose, setting her fork down. “Wassup, Karmen. I didn’t know you were back in town.” She said with a soft smile.
Karmen shrugged, stepping further in. “I live here, Cree. You’d know that if you came to visit from New York more often.” She spat through a forced grin. “And I didn’t know I needed to check in.”
Cree bit back a sigh, rolling her shoulders. She wasn’t about to get into this right now. Not here. Not with Granny watching. “You eat yet?” She asked instead, turning away from her sister and nodding toward the food on the stove.
Karmen’s brows lifted slightly, surprised by the offer. “Nah.”
“Go on, then.” Cree gestured toward the plates. “Ain’t like you to turn down a meal.” She beer once saw the look Karmen was giving her, eyes focused on the food she no longer had the appetite for.
For a moment, Karmen just looked at the side of her head, as if waiting for some kind of catch. Then, with a small scoff, she moved toward the counter, grabbing a plate. “Damn, Cee, I almost forgot—you always wanted to be the nice one.”
Cree ignored the edge in her tone with pursed lips, eye glancing up and watching as Karmen loaded her plate with the same careful precision she always had. Like food was something she had to take before it was gone. Some things never changed. Karmen sat across from her, digging into her food without hesitation. She ate like she hadn’t had a home-cooked meal in months, which was probably the case. For a little while, the only sound in the room was the clinking of silverware.
Then, without looking up, Karmen spoke.
“Raheem here?”
Cree felt it before she could stop it—the way her body tensed, the way her fingers twitched against the table. Karmen caught it, her chewing slowing slightly.
“He’s outside,” Cree said carefully. “With Grandpa.”
Karmen nodded slowly, setting her fork down. “I wanna see him.”
Cree inhaled deeply, willing herself to stay calm. “Karmen…”She had to pause, her mouth slightly page as she tried keeping her face neutral. “We’ll see.” She stated.
Karmen’s lips pressed into a thin line. “We’ll see?” She repeated, venom laced within her tone. She then scoffed. “I just wanna see him, I won’t cause no problems.”
“You know how this goes, Karmen.”
“No, I don’t think I do.” Karmen leaned forward slightly, her voice quieter but sharper now. “Last I checked, he’s my son.”
Cree looked up at that, studying her carefully, searching for the usual lie, the manipulation, the cracks in her story. She didn’t trust this. She didn’t trust her. Cree clenched her jaw. “And last I checked, I’m the one who’s raising him.” She added.
Karmen exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. “I ain’t about to do this with you.”
“Do what?” Cree challenged. “Be held accountable? Cause I don’t feel like doing that either.”
Karmen’s eyes flashed, and just like that, the air in the room shifted. Grace-Anne stiffened, watching closely, but she didn’t interrupt the grown women.
Karmen laughed under her breath, but there was no humor in it. “You always loved playing mother, huh? Always loved stepping in, making yourself the damn hero.”
Cree’s expression remained steady, but inside, something twisted. She’d heard this all before. The same bullshit she knew her sister was about to spew wasn’t anything new. Karmen always thought she had to be the villain for Cree to play the hero, like they weren’t all just doing what needed to be done. Like they haven’t been purely surviving since the death of parents they both shared. Like Cree wanted any of this.
She exhaled sharply, sitting back in her chair. “Somebody had to.” Her voice was cold, but her eyes were still down cast to the abandoned plate and as she twisted the silverware in her hands.
Karmen’s jaw flexed, her grip tightening around her fork. “You act like I was never there for him.”
“You weren’t,” Cree said bluntly before she could even think about it, the older woman’s words evoking a rage she only felt in the studio hours before.
Karmen scoffed. “You think I wanted to leave him? You think I just chose to let you take him?”
Cree eye snapped over to her sister and tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “You act like I stole him, Karmen. Like I came in the dead of night and ripped him out of your arms. But that’s not what happened.” She pointed toward the back door. “That little boy out there was a hungry, scared, and confused baby. Damn near an infant. He needed somebody. And I stepped up because you couldn’t.”
Karmen flinched. Just barely, but Cree caught it. She sighed, softer this time. “I don’t doubt that you love him. I know you do. But love ain’t enough, Karmen. It never has been.”
Karmen’s eyes burned as she stared at her sister. “You don’t think I know that?” Her voice cracked, and for the first time since she walked through the door, the anger in her face wavered.
For a fleeting moment, Cree saw her sister—the real her. The one who used to sneak into her bed at night when she was little. The one who used to hold Raheem tight even when she had nothing left to give.
Then, just as quickly, it was gone.
Karmen sucked in a breath, rolling her shoulders back. “I just wanna see my son, Cleopatra.” She stated, her eyes trained on her younger sister across the table.
Cree just swallowed. She wanted to believe her sister, she did. She wanted to trust that Karmen wouldn’t break that boy’s heart all over again. In a way that would only confuse his innocent mind. But she couldn’t believe the woman. The woman’s that broken every promise she’s given since Cree could remember. Not yet.
“We’ll see.” She repeated, firmer this time.
Karmen’s jaw tightened, and she pushed her plate away. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
She stood, her chair scraping against the floor. Cree didn’t move, just watched as her sister left the room, tension still thick in the air.
Grace-Anne sighed, shaking her head as she began clearing the plates. “Lord, give me strength,” she muttered under her breath. Cree stayed seated, her chest feeling heavy. She ran a hand down her face, exhaling, mind clouded with Raheem, Karmen, and her job that she was supposed to be fixed on in order to make a living.
Thing between her and Karmen have always been complicated, but it seemed that Cree taking care of her sisters baby as a favor so that the woman didn’t have to battle addiction while trying to be a good single mother, wasn’t quite the favor it Karmen. And Cree was never sure if the drugs were ding the talking or what, but she dreaded every moment with the girl now, Alana’s on edge that Raheem could run in and see a sight she’d have trouble explaining. She’s only had to do that once, and she doesn’t plan on having to do it any time soon.
She began scratching at her neck, blinking to snap herself it if the quiet atmosphere she put herself into with her zoned out silence.
One moment with her sister and she needed a fifth of tequila, asap.
Soon, Raheem came running back inside, his face flushed and eyes shining with excitement. “Grandpa showed me the new plants he got,” Raheem said, almost breathless from running. “He got a cactus, some azaleas, which are poisonous and a Venus fly trap, which eats bugs! and I wanna help him plant the new rosebushes next time!” He said, shaking onto Cree’s arm. The woman sat up in her seat, looking down at the small boy with a fond look in her eyes, the moments from earlier easing away for now.
“Woah, slow down, champ, you’ll do it soon.” She said. “You know Pawp wouldn’t do it without you.”Cree said with a smile, running a hand over his braided hair. “But you know what I would do without you?” She asked, leaning in a bit as if to whisper a secret. Raheem leaned in as well, his big eye curious as ever. Cree grinned. “Eat peach cobbler!” She grinned before standing up and rushing into the kitchen. Raheem’s face lit up, and he bolted after her, cheers of excitement and laughs coming from him as he tried to beat his aunt from the plate his grandmother was now fixing.
Their grandfather passed by with kitchen with a smile on his face, looking at the duo around his wife.
Cree lingered a moment longer in the kitchen, savoring the feeling of peace that came from being here. It had always been a sanctuary for her—a place where she could just be herself, where no one expected anything of her but to enjoy the time with the people she loved most. After eating desert, Raheem and Pawp here in the couch watching Wheel of Fortune while Cree leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed as she watched Grace-Anne hum softly to herself while string her food away. The older woman didn’t need to ask what was on her mind—she’d known Cree long enough to sense when something was brewing.
“Spit it out, girl,” Grace-Anne finally said, not looking up at her. Cree let out a small exhale through her nose, hesitating for only a second before speaking. “You think you could watch Raheem tonight?” She asked softly.
Grace-Anne did look up at that, brows raising slightly in surprise. “It’s Friday.” Cree was quick to add at the woman’s silence, rubbing the back of her neck. “And I was thinking maybe you were right. Maybe I do need to get out more.” She stated with a small shrug.
Grace-Anne smirked knowingly. “Mmhmm.” She hummed as she closed the lid in the leftovers. “And where exactly you plannin’ to go, miss thang? You got some plans?” She questioned, a small smirk in her face. Cree huffed out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Not really. Just…out. Maybe a drink, some music. Nothing crazy.” She shrugged.
Grace-Anne tilted her head, studying her. “You goin’ with anybody?” She addled hopefully.
Cree hesitated, giving her groans a certain look before letting out a small laugh. “Nah. I ain’t really got no friends here yet.” She said it casually, but there was an undeniable weight to the words. “Ones I trust, you know.” She said, her voice dropping place as her eyes sifted from her grandmother’s empathetic gaze.
Grace-Anne tsked, waving her off. “Chile, you won’t make none sittin’ up in this house every night. Go on. I got Raheem. We’ll make some popcorn, put on one of them Marvel movies he loves so much.”
Cree smiled, relief washing over her. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank yourself for finally listenin’ to some sense.”Cree rolled her eyes but chuckled. She explained the situation to the men on the couch, getting only a small pout from Raheem before he accepted it and she gave them both a kiss on the forehead before heading out the door to go get ready.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
The city pulsed with life, a steady rhythm of music, neon lights, and the humid breeze rolling off the ocean. Cree hadn’t been out in forever—not like this. It felt weird, being out alone, but she was determined to enjoy herself.
She ended up at a spot called Miami Midnight’s, a lounge that wasn’t too packed but had just enough energy to make her feel like she belonged there. Her outfit was simple, as wore sequin leopard print short-shorts and a blank Loewe tank top the fit her tight. Her clutch matched her pants and she had on a pair of leather stiletto boots. Her shining jewelry seemed to be the staple pieces in her outfit since it drew the most attention as she walked around the club.
But Cree had only been in Miami Midnights for about fifteen minutes, and already, she felt out of place. The music was good, the energy high, but being alone in a packed club wasn’t exactly her comfort zone. It made her feel more lonely than she was outside of the club. Everyone was there with somebody else, either a friend or their boo.
She nursed a drink at the bar, absently watching couples sway to the slow, bass-heavy music for a while before she found herself making a beeline for the bathroom, needing a second to collect herself.
Inside, the music was muffled, the air cooler, and she let out a slow breath as she approached the mirror. She stared at herself, her eyes smirking over every aspect of her outfit to see if there was a problem. Besides that fact that she hated the outfit after leaving the house. She felt underdressed in two forms, that she didn’t have on enough clothing and that her outfit was flashy enough for a Miami club. And she couldn’t tell if the stairs she got when she exited the car were confirming her thoughts or because she was a celebrity.
She just let out a sigh, closing her eyes briefly as she collected herself, because if she didn’t, she was just going to indulge in her urges and just flat out leave.
Just as she reached for the lip gloss inside her small purse, she caught movement beside her.
“I know you not in here hiding.”
Cree glanced over and saw two women watching her, one with a head full of soft curls and warm brown skin, the other with thick honey-blonde braids that cascaded down her back. They both exuded confidence, the type of women who owned whatever room they walked into.
Cree smirked a little. “I ain’t hiding.” She said, trying to hide her obvious lie. She was sure of hiding, this has been her third trip to the bathroom to reapply makeup or over analyze her outfit.
The curly-haired one lifted a brow. “Then what you doin’? ‘Cause you don’t look like you about to fix your makeup. Not to sound like no stalker or nothin’ but our booth right by the bathroom and this about to third time running in here. You look like you tryin’ to talk yourself out of somethin’.”
Cree exhaled a small laugh, shaking her head. “It’s my first time out in a minute. Gotta get my mind right.” There was no use in trying to hide it anymore, she had been caught. But that doesn’t mean she still was a little embarrassed and ashamed.
The blonde one hummed in understanding, then gave her a once-over. “Well, you damn sure dressed like you belong here. Boots, lil ass shirts with the booty coming out a bit, the whole I-don’t-gotta-try-too-hard-but-I-still-look-good vibe.” She explored, waving her hand up and down the girls figure. “I like it.” She shrugged as she smacked her gum.
Cree chuckled. “Appreciate it.”
The one with curls grinned. “I’m Alesia, by the way. This is Nelly.” Nelly lifted her cup in greeting.
“And we,” Alesia continued, “Are about to have a damn good time. So, if you tryna sit in a corner all night, don’t. You should roll with us, girl.”
Cree hesitated, she then quirked a brow. “You brought your cup in the bathroom?” She asked curiously.
Nelly jerked her head back at that, looking after up and down. “You must not be from here? Cause these hoes are thirsty and broke, and I paid my for bottle.” She said, hiding her other hand up to show the large bottle she had, the cap on it. Cree just let out a small laugh and then nodded. She hadn’t planned on meeting anyone tonight, especially women. Had fully prepared for an awkward solo night out and the occasional rejection of a man that was obviously drunk. But Alesia and Nelly were hot, fun, and honestly? She could use the company.
She shrugged. “Why the hell not?” She said.
Nelly grinned. “That’s what the fuck I’m talking about!” She grinned as she made her way over to the door. “Let’s go, bitch!”
And just like that, the night felt a little less lonely.
After leaving the bathroom, Alesia and Nelly wasted no time pulling Cree back onto the dance floor. By now, the club was packed, the air thick with heat and bass, bodies moving in sync with the heavy rhythm of the music. After a few more rounds of dancing, Alesia fanned herself dramatically. “Okay, I need a breather before I pass out on this damn floor.”
Cree, still feeling the heat from the crowd, nodded. “Y’all got a section or something?” This caused both women to look over at her, judgement closing their features at what they thought was a slick shot.
Nelly scoffed. “Girl, do we look like we got a section?”
Cree simple gave them a small grin. “Well, I do.” She said, seeing their expressions and not wanting to wrested the situation.
Alesia’s eyes widened. “Huh?”
“I mean, it’s just me over there,” Cree said casually, pointing toward the fairly empty VIP section she had reserved near the side of the club. “Y’all can come sit if you want.”
Alesia and Nelly exchanged looks, then immediately hooked their arms through Cree’s.
“Oh, we love you,” Nelly gushed as they let her lead them away from the bathroom’s crowded entryway.
As they got closer, Alesia’s jaw nearly hit the floor. The two sections next to Cree’s were packed—celebrities, athletes, influencers, and groupies all mingling in an effortless display of wealth and status.
“Oh, we really love you,” Nelly whispered, barely containing her excitement.
Cree just chuckled. She hadn’t thought much of it when she booked her section. She had just wanted somewhere to sit and vibe without getting bumped into all night. But now, watching Alesia and Nelly practically vibrating with excitement, she realized how much of a moment this probably was for them.
And to be fair, she wasn’t immune either. She recognized a couple of online stars from viral videos and a rapper she had written for before.
Alesia nudged Nelly. “Bitch! Is that Taylen and ‘nem.”
Nelly gasped. “Mitch, ain’t no way.”
Before Cree knew it, the two of them were off, confidently introducing themselves to people, making connections like they had belonged in these spaces their whole lives. Cree let them have their fun, amused at how quickly they adapted. She, on the other hand, wasn’t much of a mingler.
That was until where them girls at started playing and Nelly and Alesia popped out of nowhere and dragged her back to the center of the dance floor before she could even relax.
Cree barely had time to take a sip from the water bottles left for them before she felt hands latch onto her arms. “Uh-uh, girl, come on!” Nelly’s voice rang in her ear.
Alesia was on her other side, grinning as she pulled Cree toward the dance floor. “You thought you was about to sit this one out? No ma’am!”
Cree barely had time to protest before she was being dragged back into the thick of it. Where Them Girls At was blasting through the speakers, and the energy on the dance floor was electric. Nelly and Alesia wasted no time getting into it, hair flipping, hips swaying, and booty shaking to the beat like they had something to prove. Cree, laughing despite herself, let the music pull her in.
It was impossible not to move when the whole crowd was vibrating with the same energy. Everyone was clapping along with the beat, hyping up their twerking friends and just acting a fool. Hands lifted in the air, bodies moved in sync, and the bass rattled in her chest, and Cree was doing the same in her little leopard shorts. Alesia and Nelly screamed as the girl danced in them in her shirts, until she rose and faced them with a knowing smirk. “Look at you! Having fun and shit.” Alesia grinned.
Cree rolled her eyes but couldn’t deny that she was feeling it now. The nerves from earlier had melted away, and for the first time in a while, she let herself get lost in the moment.
Alesia, full of energy, grabbed Cree and Nelly’s wrist. “We takin’ a shot.”
Cree smirked. “We?”
“Yes, we. You out with us now, which means you drinking with us.”
Nelly flagged down one of the servers as they made their way over to the bar, that carrying a tray of drinks and about to go serve someone. “Three tequila shots.” She demanded, and the man only looked over at the other bartender that gave a simple nod before she began mixing.
Cree lifted a brow. “Oh, y’all don’t play.” She said, watching as the shits were handing over to them.
“We really don’t,” Nelly confirmed as she handed her a shot. “And if we see you babysittin’ it, we pressin’ you.”
Cree chuckled, but as soon as they counted down—“One, two, three!”—She threw the shot back with them, the burn spreading down her throat.
Alesia cheered. “Okayyy, we got us a soldier!” Cree laughed, shaking her head, but she had to admit—it felt good to let loose.
They made their way back to the dance floor and danced for a while. Alesia dragged them both onto the center of the floor when a City Girls song dropped, all three of them rapping along like they’d known each other for years. The three of them hyped each other up over their outfits, Nelly dramatically pretending to faint at Cree’s red bottom boots. At some point, Nelly managed to get the DJ to play a Caribbean set, and Alesia whined her waist so effortlessly that a small circle formed around them.
Cree was so caught up in the fun that she didn’t even realize when a certain song started playing. It was her song, Broken Clocks. A song she wasn’t quite sure was being playing in the club, but when she looked around, it was obvious that this was for a different type of bumping and grinding. A few couples around her started moving closer, bodies pressed together in a slow grind, that the shift in vibe became obvious.
Cree bit her lip, suddenly aware of the fact that she didn’t have anyone to dance with. Alesia and Nelly immediately found some men to dance with, caught in the song’s sultry rhythm. But Cree? She suddenly felt the weight of the moment. She wasn’t drunk enough to forget that she was alone tonight. She wasn’t comfortable enough to grab some stranger and dance on him.
Before she could think too much about it, she slipped off toward the bar, giving her new friends a small wave as they got swept up in the moment with some men from the section they met earlier.
That’s when Alesia and Nelly, mid-dance, finally clocked who she was.
She nursed a drink at the bar, absently watching couples sway to the slow, bass-heavy music.
“You out here lookin’ lonely, Miss Cree.”
That voice.
She turned, already knowing who it was before she even laid eyes on him.
Lamont.
Her stomach did a weird little flip, and she immediately scolded herself for it. Of all the people to run into—again.
First at the studio, then at Raheem’s school, then the studio again only hours prior, and now here? Either Miami was way too small, or something was up.
Cree raised a brow, taking a slow sip of her drink.
“Are you stalking me?” She asked, jokingly but the question did have some seriousness to it if she started showing those signs. “If you’re honest I won’t call the police.” She grinned.
Lamont chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned against the bar beside her. “Nah, you got it twisted. You the one following me.”
Cree let out a scoff, turning fully toward him. “Oh, boy please.”
“I’m just sayin’.” He said, smirking as he gestured around the club. “I was here first. You popped up after me. Same thing at the studio. Twice.” I sensing a pattern with you, Cree.” He said with a sultry grin, it taking his eyes off her and be brought his drink to his lips.
Cree tilted her head, pretending to consider. “Okay, fair point or whatever. I’ll take your world for it.” She said, getting a soft scoffed out of him that made her grin a little. “But what about the school?” She questioned with a tilt of her head.
Lamont paused for half a second, staring at her, before shrugging. “That one don’t count.”
“Oh, it don’t?” She asked raised a brow.
“Nah,” He said, still smirking. “That was a coincidence. Just like this one.”
Cree narrowed her eyes at him, but there was no real suspicion behind it. More like curiosity. He was too calm, too at ease—like he found all of this amusing. And maybe it was a little funny. Because why did she keep running into this man? Him of all the pole in Miami. At the stupid it made scene, they were both there don’t work, she assumed. But now the club? On the same night. It was a Friday night but still.
And it wasn’t like she minded the view—Lamont cleaned up real nice. Black tee, fitted just right over his arms, gold chains catching the dim club lights just enough to draw attention. And those big brown eyes that were set with low lids. He was sexy as fuck.
“You out here lookin’ like you own the place, a little, Lamont.” Cree added.
Lamont smirked, leaning against the bar and trying not to think about his name coming from her lips again. “I don’t. But I know the owner.” He glanced at her outfit, his eyes lingering for a second longer than necessary before meeting hers again. “Didn’t take you for a nightlife kinda woman.”
Cree shrugged. “I ain’t. Just needed a break.”
“From what?”
She studied him for a moment. “Life.” She stated.
Lamont nodded with a small hum, like he understood that better than most.
Cree took another slow sip of her drink. “Now, since we’re apparently tied together by fate or whatever, you buying my next one?” She asked, holding up her now empty glass.
Lamont chuckled, lifting a hand to flag down the bartender. “Yeah, I got you.”
Cree smirked, shaking her head. “That easy, huh?” She questioned with a small squint.
“What can I say?” He shrugged, eyes flickering over her before meeting her gaze again. “You do look good tonight.”
She wasn’t about to let him see how much that affected her. Instead, she rolled her eyes, but the small smile on her lips gave her away, and she just prayed that the dim lights didn’t show her brown skin getting hot.
“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t start actin’ like you my shadow after this.” Cree quipped.
“No promises.” He said, his smirk deepening. “You know, tried together by fate and whatever.” He repeated with a shrug, causing Cree to let out a genuine laugh. He paused, watching as the beautiful woman in-front of him giggled, his eyes drifting over her figure one last time. He gestured toward the dance floor once she looked up at him. “If you tryna forget life for a minute, I could help with that.”
Cree exhaled through her nose, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “You tryna dance with me, Lamont?” She asked, looking him in the eye.
“I’m tryna see if you still move like you got somethin’ to prove.” He smirked. “I saw a lil bit of you out there.” He stated, causing Cree to let out a small groan, although the thought of him watching her throw ass did do something to her a little. She set her glass down, tilting her head. “You ain’t ready for that.”
Lamont’s smirk widened as he extended his hand. “Try me.”Cree glanced at his outstretched hand, then back up at him. He looked confident—too confident—but she wasn’t about to back down now.
You say you got a girl
Yeah, how you want me?
How you want me when you got a girl?
Cree slid her hand into his, feeling the warmth of his palm as moved in front of her to lead her toward the dance floor. The bass thumped through her chest, the crowd thick with bodies moving to the slow, hypnotic rhythm of the music. The song pulsed through the speakers, Cree barely registered that it was her own song playing, the familiar lyrics to The Weekend drowning out as she watched his back muscles contort under his shirt, his black breads swaying as he moved.
She was too caught up.
Hangin' out the back, all up in your lap
Like is you comin' home? Is you out with her?
Lamont didn’t hesitate—he slowly turned her around, his hands finding her waist like it was second nature.
Cree smirked, pressing back against him just slightly, testing him. His grip tightened just enough to let her know he could handle whatever she threw at him.
She was too caught up.
Too caught up in the heat of Lamont’s body pressed against hers, the way his hands rested firm but respectful on her waist. Too caught up in the way he moved with her like he already knew her rhythm, like this wasn’t the first time their bodies had been this close.
“Go ‘head.” He murmured near her ear, his voice low and tempting. “Show me what I’m not ready for.”
Cree exhaled sharply, rolling her hips to the beat. She didn’t even think—her body just moved, finding the rhythm easily. Lamont matched her pace effortlessly, his body solid and warm behind hers.
I don't care long as you here by 10:30, no later than
Drop them drawers, give me what I want
For a moment, she forgot she had come here alone. Forgot that she had been sipping her drink at the bar, wondering if this night would even be worth it.
Because right now, with Lamont’s hands on her waist and his body moving in sync with hers, she wasn’t thinking about anything except the music, the heat, the way he felt pressed up against her.
She rolled her hips slow, letting the bass guide her, feeling the weight of his presence behind her. His grip on her tightened just a little, enough to send a spark of something down her spine. Lamont dipped his head, his lips close enough to brush against her ear. “You always dance like this?”
Cree smirked, turning her head slightly but not enough to meet his gaze. “Only when I got somethin’ to prove.”
Lamont let out a quiet chuckle, his fingers flexing against her hips. “Damn.” He murmured. “Guess I see why fate keep throwin’ us together.”
Cree didn’t respond—she just kept moving, letting the music take over. Before the song could end, she felt the buzz from her few drinks getting to her. Cree turned in his hold, their bodies still moving together, and met his gaze fully for the first time since they started dancing.
“You like this song?” She asked, tilting her head slightly as she moved her arms you to his shoulders.
Lamont hummed, his fingers flexing on her waist. “I like the way you movin’ to it.” He smirked, causing her to let out a small laugh while he licked his lips. “But yeah, I like this song.” He said. Cree bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling too much, but she knew he saw right through her.
The song’s beat throbbed between them, thick with tension. And for once, she wasn’t thinking about being alone, wasn’t overanalyzing the fact that she kept running into this man.
The song shifts, transitioning into something a little faster, something that would make staying in his arms feel like a choice rather than just the rhythm guiding them. Cree exhales, rolling her shoulders back slightly. This was enough. She thought.
Lamont must sense it too because his grip loosens just a fraction, his hands sliding back down to her waist in a way that feels more like a question than a demand. “You tappin’ out on me?” His voice was low and teasing with a tilt of his head, but there was something else there too. Cree felt her stomach drop at the phrase he used, and felt a part of her pulse at the thought of it being said in another phrase.
That tequila shot must really be getting to her.
Cree smirks, slipping her hands from his shoulders.“Just taking a break.” She said softly, dragging her fingers down and grazing his hard chest.
Lamont watched her for a second, then gave a slow nod, his smirk fading into something unreadable. “Come on.” He said, tilting his head toward the exit. “Let me walk you out.”
Cree raised an eyebrow at him, slight amusement dancing across her face. “You assuming I’m leaving?”
Lamont shrugs. “Nah. Just making sure you get to your car safe.”
She could argue, could tell him she’s fine on her own. But instead, she just nods, letting him lead the way as they step off the dance floor.
As they step outside, the night air is cooler, contrasting with the heat inside the club. Cree exhales, feeling the night settle over her as she digs for her keys in her small clutch. Lamont walks beside her, hands in his pockets, watching her with that same unreadable expression. He looked her up and down, taking in her legs that giggled when she walked, her heels hurt the pavement in a rhythmic tune. They make easy conversation, but there’s an unspoken something between them.
When they reach her car, maybe there’s a beat of silence—just the two of them standing there under the streetlights, the bass from the club still faint in the background.
“You good to drive?” He asked, his voice softer now. He looked down at her, about two steps away from the woman who leaned against her driver side door.
Cree smirked, twirling her keys around her finger. “I had two drinks. I’m straight.” She stated.
Lamont nods, but he doesn’t step away just yet. He takes a small step forward, his fingers brushing against hers with the hand that angled by her side. “Guess I’ll be seein’ you around, huh?” He asked, his tone still low and soft. Cree paused for a moment, looking up into his low eyes. She then huffs a quiet laugh, unlocking her door. She turned with him still in her space, hopping into the front seat and rolling her window down all the way. Lamont still stood there, easing closer to lean his weight on her door while they held eye contact. “If fate’s got anything to do with it, I guess so.” She answered him, her voice just as soft.
A half-second passed, and Lamont’s drops to her glossed lips. The air between them shifts as he takes a step closer. But neither of them moves. Not yet. Before Cree could think about it, she felt his rough hand tilt her chin up, his thumb grazing along her jaw as he pressed his lips—warm, deliberate—against her cheek. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t careless. It was slow enough to mean something. Slow enough that when he pulled away, the ghost of his touch still lingered.
Cree swallowed, her fingers tightening around her keys as she exhaled through her nose.
Lamont smirked slightly, watching her reaction as he backed away from her. “Drive safe, Cree, okay?” His voice was low, smooth, but there was something else beneath it—something that made her grip the steering wheel a little tighter.
Cree blinked, looking up at him. “Okay.” She answered softly, matching his small smile. And she didn’t know if he had her that smitten or if those few drinks were really starting to get to her. He pushed off her door, taking a step back, but his eyes stayed on her. She didn’t break eye contact as she finally started her car, the low hum filling the space between them. Lamont gave her one last look, a knowing smirk playing at the corner of his lips before he stepped back fully, slipping his hands into his pockets.
And as she pulled off, she caught one last glimpse of him in her rearview mirror—still standing there under the club lights, watching her go.
And damn if that didn’t make her stomach flip just a little.
@saturnville @notapradagurl7 @nubiawrites @zillasvilla @slvt4her @saltburnsworld @melaninhawtie @jOysyndrOm3 @moooonluvr @henneseyhoe @blkgirlsneedlove2 @kinginwithbreezy-blog @sheaabuttaababyy @nubiagurllll @inkedbydesire @rosaaverse
#lamont diggs#rap s!it lamont#rap sh!t hbo max#rap sh!t#rj cyler x black!reader#rj cyler x reader#rj cyler fanfic#rj cyler#Lamont × Black!reader#Lamont Diggs x Black!reader#jazziejaxwriting
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The real freak
Eddie Munson x female reader
Angsty romance READ IF YOU DARE not for minors
Today is the first day of your new school due to something that happened in the last school you had.. you approached Hawkins high-school dressed in a black long sleeve. Leather layered necklaces belt chains eyeliner and ripped jeans with your wore out sneakers the other girls lacked contrast lacked individually they were dressed in the usual afraid to stand out. The boys dressed in the ordinary to impress the average girls... at least as far as the eyes can see its just like the last school. Your mom extremely disappointed in you for having to move schools again this was the second time and hopefully the last but only time can tell your chains give off a slight jingle as you make you're way up the small steps you walk through the halls the girls giving you a bitchy look you sit down in math class the boring hours pass and pass then lunch time you walk towards the cafeteria people piling through the door you finally got your opening you walk in you grab Mac and cheese and a juice box and you stand out of place people laughing with their friends about whatever shit they come up with you find your crevice in a empty corner table next to the cheerleader table the girls giggle as they whisper and point at you. Ignoring it you sit and eat then a tall lanky boy sits infront of you "um hi you're new right?" You nodded in response of the question of the long dark haired boy "uh okAy so how would you like to join a club? I-its a dnd club we do campaigns after school but it usually depends on when they're scheduled " you cross you arms "ive never played before..." his eyebrows raise "Thats okay we Can teach you 100 percent!" He slides a flyer across the table and he unzips his backpack and grabs out some t shirts with hellfire club on them "what size are you?" "Just gimmie a large" he hands the t shirt across the table you feel a sense of something new? "Alright tonight is a meeting be in the old av club room at four!"
You slip on the hellfire shirt you stuff the other one in your locker. You walk into two different rooms until you found it the tall boy standing infront of the door You slip on the hellfire shirt you stuff the other one in your locker. You walk into two different rooms until you found it the tall boy standing infront of the door "hey you made it." You walk in the door finding six men sitting in the dimly lit room the boy follows you in behind you he says "eddie this is …" you chime in "y/n " you rub your arm as the figure infront of you stands from a throne of metallic bronze and steps infront of you his figure tall and slighty muscular he leans down to look at you his eyes dark and mysterious his hair light brown but golden in the dim oragish lights surrounding "This is her?" His hands adorned with silver rings and his shoulders in leather and denim his waist a silver chain the jingles slightly when he adjusts his hips "mike what are her attributes?" He awnsers nervously "she doesn't have a character..yet " his face turns towards Mike the boy standing behind me annoyed is his expression "Fuck….. well thats up to your team mike shes bound to bring the team down due to her skills and undeveloped playing style…" he groans as he moves to his throne rubing his hand over his mouth he stares as he is seater his eyebrows raise as they hover over your figure….
#fandom#eddie munson#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x you#eddie munson lives#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x reader#eddie#eddie munson fluff#eddie x plus size reader#Eddie Munson angst
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Classroom Visits
Summary: Your principal asks if you’d be willing to host some aviators to read to your second grade class for Read Across America... you don’t expect the Navy to send two very attractive men to entertain your students, but they end up capturing the hearts of your students...and one of them may just end up capturing your heart.
Pairings: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female! Reader, Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OC Shay, appearances by other Daggers.
Word Count: 5110 ( I have zero chill, I swear)
Warnings: None- pure FLUFF
A/N: I do not own Top Gun Maverick characters but all OC/Reader inserts are my own. DO NOT COPY/TRANSLATE/REPOST my work to other platforms, I do NOT give permission to do so. Reblogs are ALWAYS welcome! SPECIAL thank you AS ALWAYS to @waywardodysseys and @beyondthesefourwalls for bouncing ideas, proofing, and encouraging me!! Y’all are the BEST!!
Masterlist
“Alright my little chickadees, it’s that time of day again!” You called to your class, “Chairs up on your tables, take home folders in your backpacks. Line up at the door!”
Your classroom was a flurry of activity, everyone gathering their backpacks and putting up their chairs like you’d asked. You helped a few of your students put their papers into their bags, helped another with a stuck zipper, and another with a stubborn knot in their laces. Finally, everyone had their belongings and the bell rang to release them.
“Have a wonderful weekend! I will see all of your smiling faces on Monday!” You said, high fiving them one by one as they filed out of the room heading on their way.
You spent the next half hour straightening your classroom and prepping it for the following week so wouldn't have to worry about it Monday morning. With everything set up and organized, you grabbed your bag, shut off the lights and headed out for the weekend. You loved your students, but by the time the weekend rolled around, you needed the time to reset. Teaching a room full of second graders was exhausting.
“Y/N, before you leave, real quick,” your principal, Mrs. Owens called from the office as you passed. You stopped and stepped into the office to see what she needed.
“You need me to do something before heading out?” You asked her.
“Nothing right now, I just wanted to let you know I just got off the phone with a friend of mine who’s husband is an Admiral over at Top Gun.” she said, “Next week is Read Across America, and I reached out to see if we could get some Naval aviators to come read to the kids. Would you be interested in some guest readers in your class next week?”
“I would love that, Mrs. Owens.” You smiled, “The kids would be so excited. A few of my students have parents stationed at the various bases around here, so they get excited about all things Navy.”
“Perfect!” She said, “I’ll let you get out of here. Enjoy your weekend!”
“You too, Mrs. Owens.” You replied, “See you Monday.”
The next week, as promised, Mrs. Owens arranged for two aviators to come read to your class. You had spent the beginning of the week prepping your students for the visitors and they were all very excited. On the day of the visit you wore a simple blue maxi dress with denim jacket over it, pulling your hair back into a loose side braid, leaving some tendrils out to fall around your face in soft waves.
“Miss Y/L/N, when are they coming to read to us?” Jackson asked, as you were helping them get settled in from recess.
“They should be coming soon, Jackson.” You replied smiling, “Mrs. Owens said that a bunch of them were coming to read to several classrooms this morning. Are you all excited?”
“YES!” They all exclaimed, their energy level had been buzzing all day.
Before you could direct them to the next lesson, there was a knock at the door.
Mrs. Owens stepped into the room followed by two very tall and impossibly good looking aviators in service khakis. One had brown hair that looked to have been slightly lightened by the sun and a mustashe that should look ridiculous but he managed to make it look good. The other one was slightly shorter, but would still tower over you and had blonde hair, cut short and styled neatly.
Your kids stood frozen in awe of the men, you chuckled, looking towards Mrs. Owens, amused by their reaction. She had a warm smile on her face, amused by the kids as well.
“Good morning boys and girls,” She said greeting your class, “You have some special visitors today who would like to share a couple of books with you. I trust you’ll show them your best behavior and make them feel welcome!”
“Yes, Mrs. Owens!” They assured her, suddenly unfrozen.
“Miss Y/L/N, this is Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and Lieutenant Jake Seresin,” Mrs. Owens introduced you to the aviators, “I’ll leave them in your care. Gentlemen, thank you once again for taking time out of your busy schedule to come read to the kiddos, it means so much to them.”
“It’s our pleasure ma’am.” Jake said.
“It’s very nice to meet you Miss Y/L/N.” Bradley said, smiling at you.
“You too, Lieutenant Bradshaw.” You replied, returning his smile “Welcome to our classroom.”
“We’re happy to be here.” Jake said.
You turned to your class, “Alright my little chickadees, since our visitors are here to read you some books, I think it’ll be easier to assemble around the reading rug.” You directed, “Quickly and quietly find a spot on the rug and don’t forget to give your neighbor some elbow space.”
“I’ll let you decide who gets to go first.” You said, smiling at the men, “Once they’re settled you can take a seat at the front of the rug.”
“I’ll kick it off.” Bradley offered.
“Perfect” You smiled, handing him ‘Horton Hears a Who’, “This is one of their favorites.”
You walked him to the front where the kids were all settled and waiting patiently.
“Give your best listening ears to Lietuenant Bradshaw, chickadees.” You said. “He’s going to read, ‘Horton Hears a Who’.”
“Yes Miss. Y/L/N.” They said, smiling at you, giving you a thumbs up. You chuckled, making your way to the back where Jake was sitting against the back counter smliing and taking git all in.
Bradley captured their attention and started to read the book to them. He changed his voice for different characters and made the kids giggle throughout the entire book. The kids weren’t the only ones captivated by the mustached aviator, nor the only one to notice.
Jake glanced over at you, noticing your attention fully engaged on Bradley and smirked. He was apparently going to be wingman for Rooster at a reading event today.
“So you call them your chickadees, huh?” He whispered, flashing a smile.
“My best friend and coworkers accuse me of being a mother hen to my students.” You chuckled softly, glancing over at him, “So they started calling my students my chicks.”
“Guess it’s fitting that Rooster is the first to read to the Chicks then today.” He winked, then seeing your confusion smiled and explained, “It’s his callsign.”
“That’s perfect” You replied, smiling widely and stealing a glance at the man still reading animatedly to your students. “What’s yours?”
“Hangman.” He answered.
“Like the word game?” You asked. “The kids love that game. You should play it with them before you leave.”
“That would be a much better reason for the name.” He replied, smiling, “I do ejoy the game though and would be happy to entertain them.”
Your gaze wandered back to man reading and you laughed softly his antics as he read. He was really good with the kids, they were all completely engaged and hanging on his every word.
“He’ll be a tough act to follow.” Jake said, playfully. “He’s good with crowds though. You should see him on a piano.”
“I’m sure you’ll have them eating out of your hand.” You said, smiling, “Piano, huh?”
“Yeah, he entertains the crowd at The Hard Deck most nights we’re all in there” He said, “You should come check it out sometime. It’s a great place.”
“I’ve heard of it.” You said, “My friend recently went with a guy she’s started to date.”
All of your students started clapping and cheering for Bradley who had finished the book and was standing up, taking a bow, smiling at your class.
“Are you all ready for another book?” Bradley asked the kids.
“YES!” They all said cheering.
“Alright, my friend and wingman, Lietuenant Seresin is going to read the next book to you,” Bradley said, “I think he needs some cheers to come up here, can you do that?”
They all started clapping and cheering again as Jake made his way to the front of the class, laughing and tagging out with Bradley, who came back to stand next to you in the back.
Jake started reading ‘The Cat in the Hat” to the kids, another one they really enjoyed. He too got into it with different voices and was an animated reader. Whoever chose these two to come into the schools, knew what they were doing, that’s for sure.
“You did fantastic.” You whispered, smiling over at Bradley.
“Thank you.” He replied, pink tinging his cheeks as he smiled back. “They’re great kids, very well behaved.”
“They are pretty amazing.” You agreed, “This group is probably one of my favorite groups I’ve had since I started teaching.”
“I bet you say that about every class.” He said, smirking. “Like every parent says every kid is their favorite.”
“There might be a little truth to that.” You chuckled.
Jake had the kids giggling at the voices he was using and the way he was reading the book. Your heart melted at the way these two interacted with your students. You would definitely be having them all make thank you cards to send to them later.
“I’m not sure how the two of you ended up on reading duty, but they couldn’t have chosen better people for the job.” You said softly, smiling over at Bradley.
“We volunteered.” He replied returning your smile, “Our whole squad is actually here today. The admiral asked for a couple of volunteers but we all started arguing over who should get to come so he told your principal he’d send us all and we could be her problem for the day.”
“I love that.” You chuckled, “Thank You, it really means the world to these kids…and to me.”
“We’re more than happy to do it.” He replied, “It’s fun and to be fair most of us are still just big kids anyway.”
Jake finished the book and the kids gave him lots of cheers and applause.
“Miss Y/L/N told me you all like to play a fun little game called… Hangman.” Jake said, smiling, “That just happens to be my callsign, which is like a nickname we get as pilots. Who feels like playing a few rounds with me?”
Needless to say your entire class was on board.
“Alright, everyone back to your desks.” You instructed, “Once everyone is seated we’ll turn on the board.”
You made your way to the front of the room where your smart board was and waited for the kids to get settled.
Jake followed you up and you gave him a quick tutorial of the board after turning it on, showing him how to use it.
“There’s a word wall at the back if you need words they’ll be more familiar with.” You smiled, “Or this week’s spelling words are on the bulletin board to your right.”
“Perfect.” He said, smiling.
Several games of Hangman later, and with promises for them to come back and visit again another day, the Aviators are saying their goodbyes to your class.
“What do we say to our visitors for coming in today, my little Chickadees?” You asked your class.
“THANK YOU!” They all called to the men.
“You’re welcome.” The two answered, both smiling widely.
You walked with them to the door, thanking them again for taking time to come in.
“Anytime, Miss Y/L/N.” Bradley said, smiling. Had he met you anywhere other than in a class full of seven and eight year olds he’d have definitely asked you out.
“Maybe join your friend at The Hard Deck one evening and we’ll see you again.” Jake winked, trying again to help his wingman out.
“You never know.” You chuckled, “Stay safe. You’ve now got a classroom full of little fans.”
“Will do.” They agreed.
The rest of the day went quickly after that. Your students were very keyed up after the visit, so not a whole lot got done until after lunch. The next day you had them all create thank you cards and write messages to Bradley and Jake. You bundled them all together with a ribbon, adding a note of your own thanking them again, and put the bundle into a large manilla envelope writing their names on the outside. During your lunch break you walked it down to the office to your principal to see if she had either an address to send it to or if she’d be able to deliver it via her friend.
“Mrs. Owens, do you have a minute?” You asked, knocking on her door.
“Of course, Y/N!” She smiled, waving you in, “What can I do for you?”
“The kids really loved having the aviators in yesterday to read to them.” You said, “They made them both thank you cards, I was wondering if you had an address we can send them to or if your friend could deliver them for us?”
“That’s such a sweet idea.” She said, “I’m actually having lunch with her today to talk about how it went. I’ll take them to her! I’m assuming it went well then?”
“It was amazing.” You gushed, “They were so good with the kids and read to them with so much enthusiasm. The kids loved them. They stuck around for a bit after reading and played a few games too. It’s something my kiddos will remember for a very long time.”
“Fantastic!” Mrs.Owens beamed, “We’ve tried to get something like this up and running in the past, but it just never seemed to stick. I think we’ll try it again next year since it was such a success. Others have said their students loved it too.”
“Thank you so much for organizing this.” You said. “Here’s the cards from the kids.”
By the time Friday rolled around again you were definitely ready for the weekend. You decided to pick up groceries on the way home so you could spend the weekend relaxing doing stuff you enjoyed rather than running errands.
You were tossing coffee pods in your cart when you heard someone call your name. Turning, you saw Jake walking towards you.
“Thought that was you.” He smiled, “Would have been kinda awkward had it not been.”
“I’m sure you’d have recovered.” You laughed.
“Probably.” He shrugged, “The cards from the kids were cute. Thank you. Bradley and I had a blast reading them.”
“I’m glad you liked them!” You beamed, “They had so much fun with you two visiting and they poured their little hearts into making the cards special. They even cut into their recess time to finish them.”
“Wow, now I’m even more honored.” He said, “The rest of the squad was jealous that we got individual cards from all the kids. They got a generic card signed by students.”
“I’ve always been accused of being a little extra…” You shrugged, “My co-workers usually tell me I do too much.”
“Nah, you’ll be the one those kids remember for years to come, Y/N.” Jake assured you. “Don’t let anyone dull that sparkle.”
“Thank you.” You replied smiling, feeling your face heat at the praise.
“So I learned something very interesting last night,” Jake said, a mischievous glint entering his bright green eyes. “We have a mutual friend in common…”
“We do?” You asked, “Who’s that?”
“The friend you mentioned? The one who told you about The Hard Deck…” Jake replied, “I’m the one she was with.”
“You’re the one that Shay’s dating?” You asked, smiling brightly, “That’s amazing!”
“She’s pretty amazing.” Jake agreed, “It’s still new, but I really hope to keep seeing her. We’re actually going to The Hard Deck tonight. Bradley will be there… you should definitely come.”
“That’s super subtle.” You laughed. “If you’re this good of a wingman in the air as you are on the ground, I have no doubt that your team’s in good hands up there.”
“I didn’t used to be.” He admitted, “But, there’s not much I wouldn’t do for them now. But honestly, Bradshaw’s one the best guys I know. You made quite the impression on him too.”
“I’ll think about coming.” You said, “It could be fun. It’s been awhile since I’ve been able to hang out with Shay too.”
“You definitely should.” He insisted. “You won’t regret it. I’ll have Shay text you when we’re there.”
“Ok.” You said, “I guess I’ll see you later.”
“Yes!” He cheered, “I’ll see you later!”
After leaving the grocery store you headed home and put away the groceries. You were making dinner a while later when your phone started to play your ringtone. You smiled, seeing it was Shay.
“Hey!” You answered, “What’s up?”
“Holy Shit, I didn’t realize it was Jake that was in your class this week!” She exclaimed, “Y/N! You absolutely have to come tonight!”
“So I take it he’s talked to you since the grocery store run in.” You laughed.
“Yeah, he just got here.” She said, “I was actually trying to figure out a way to get you and Bradley to meet after meeting him the first time because you two are honestly PERFECT for each other. This is fate Y/N. You’re coming tonight right?”
“Wow, no pressure though, right?” You asked laughing, “Yeah… I’ll come.”
“I’ll send you a text when we’re on our way to the bar.” She replied. “Can’t wait!”
“I’ll see you later. It’ll be fun.” You said.
After hanging up you finished making dinner then decided to grab a shower and get ready. You didn’t want to go overboard with your outfit, so you decided on a simple short floral skirt with a white button up shirt that you left unbuttoned at the bottom and tied it up at the waist. You decided to leave your hair down, letting it fall in soft waves down your back. You put on light makeup and sprayed on your favorite perfume before slipping on a pair of sandals.
You’d just finished getting ready when Shay texted to let you know that they were just heading out to The Hard Deck now. You sent a text back letting her know you’d meet her there shortly. Needless to say, nerves were now starting to settle in. You didn't want things to be awkward. What if Bradley wasn’t really interested? Jake could say he was, but he could be wrong. Bradley had been sweet when he’d been in your classroom but that didn’t mean he was interested in anything with you. Now that you knew Shay was seeing Jake, odds were if they continued to date your paths would cross, so if tonight went badly, it would make for really awkward get togethers in the future.
It had taken a minute to give yourself a pep talk, gather your purse and head out the door, but you’d made it to The Hard Deck not too long after Shay had texted you. After finding a parking spot, you headed into the bar.
“Y/N!” You heard your name. Glancing over in the direction it came from, you saw Shay waving and Jake smiling where they were sitting at a high top table close to the dart board. A few others were with them, you assumed other officers, possibly aviators in the same squadron with Jake and Bradley. You didn’t see Bradley though. You headed in the direction of your friend, zig-zagging between people in order to get there.
“Popular place tonight.” You said, as you finally reached the table. Shay hopped off the chair she’d been sitting on to hug you. With both of your schedules, it had been a bit since you’d been able to actually hang out. Jake stood up, grabbing a chair to scoot it up to the table for you to sit down next to Shay.
“Glad you could make it out.” He smiled, “What can I get you to drink, Sparkles?”
“Sparkles, huh?” You laughed, questioning the nickname. “That’s what you’re goin’ with?”
“Absolutley.” He smirked, winking, “It was that or Little Hen.”
“If those are the choices, I think I’d go with Sparkles,” Shay laughed.
“Ok then.” You smiled, accepting your fate. “Sparkles it is?”
“Perfect!” Jake agreed, “Now that that’s settled, watcha drinkin’, Sparkles?”
“Vodka cranberry, please.” You replied, “Thanks, Jake.”
“My pleasure.” He smiled, then turned to Shay “Sweetheart, you need another while I’m up there?”
“Yes please!” She said.
“Sit tight,” He said, “I’ll be right back.” Jake headed towards the bar, easily making his way through the crowd.
You turned to Shay and smirked as you caught her watching him walk to the bar.
“Things seem to be going really well so far with you two.” You said, “From the couple of encounters I’ve had with him, he seems like a really great guy.”
“It’s going really well, Y/N.” She gushed, “I REALLY like him… like REALLY REALLY like him. He’s so attentive when we’re together and he’s fun, and sweet, and charming, I mean…you have eyes… you can see he’s pretty much sex on legs.”
“I did notice the extreme attractiveness of the two aviators that came to my classroom, yes.” You laughed. “I’m glad it’s going well. It’s nice to see you so happy.”
“We’re definitely taking it slow.” She said, “We’ve both been burned but can see this being the real deal and don’t want to mess it up.”
“Then slow is a good idea.” You agreed.
“Here you lovely ladies go.” Jake said, placing your drinks in front of you. “Did I miss anything?”
“Just talkin’ about you.” Shay winked, “Thanks, Jake.”
“Uh oh.” He winced playfully. “That could potentially be bad.”
“Nah,” You denied, thanking him again for the drink, adding, “We were actually commenting on the Navy’s abnormally high number of unfairly attractive aviators.”
“And now you’ve gone and given him an even bigger ego.” A female voice groaned coming from your left.
“Ignore her.” Jake winked, “Keep the compliments comin’, Sparkles.”
“That was pretty much the extent to the conversation.” You shrugged, smiling apologetically, “Sorry, Jake.”
“It’s ok, Sparkles, this is Natasha or Phoenix.” Jake said. “Phoenix, this is Y/N.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” She said, “I’ve actually heard all about you from Hangman and Rooster. Seems they won the classroom lottery this week.”
“Nice to meet you too.” You replied, smiling, “My students were still giddy about their visit when they left for the weekend.”
“The cards were adorable too!” She said, “Our whole squad was actually saying we might all adopt your classroom.”
“I’ve got 24 little chicakdees that would adore that.” You beamed.
“Wait, hold up!” Jake complained, “Those little chicks belong to Rooster and me! We had them first.”
“Sharing is caring Hangman.” Phoenix said, “Right, Y/N? I’ll bet your students even know that rule.”
“It’s one they’re still working on.” You admitted, “But by second grade they’re better than in kindergarten.”
“I should have put that together when you were talking about the little chicks you read to that night after going into the school.” Shay laughed, “I can’t believe it took until you showed me the cards. I thought the classroom must have had literal chicks in them.”
“They matched the two of you to the perfect room” Phoenix laughed, “Rooster got to read to little chicks!”
“He did,” Jake agreed,winking at you “And a certain Sparkly little Hen caught his eye too.”
“I’m gonna need someone to fill me in here.” Phoenix said, looking confused.
“We’ve always said Y/N is a mother hen to her students…and people she loves.” Shay explained. “So she started calling her students her chickadees or chicks.”
“That’s adorable!” Phoenix exclaimed, looking over at you. You could feel heat creeping up over your neck into your face. You busied yourself with your drink to avoid eye contact.
“Alright, no embarrassing Sparkles” Jake said, “Come play a game of pool with Coyote, Fanboy and me. Let’s give Shay and Y/N a chance to catch up.”
He dropped a kiss on top of Shay’s head and sent a wink your way before leading Phoenix away, giving you and Shay a chance to talk.
“See?” She said, “He’s perfect.”
“He’s pretty great” You agreed. “Honestly… the anticipation of seeing Bradley is giving me serious anxiety. It might have been better for me to just wait and show up later in the night.”
“It’ll be ok.” She assured you. “He usually comes in not long after everyone else, so I’m guessing he’ll be here any minute.”
“Unless he’s got a hot date tonight and isn’t coming.” You reasoned.
“Well if he does it’s his loss and you’ll get to hang with us and have fun!” She said, “Plus there are other hot aviators in the bar!”
“Don’t let Jake hear you say that” You teased, taking a sip of your drink. “Although, I am starting to think that’s a prerequisite for being accepted into flight school.”
The two of you sipped your drinks and got caught up while watching the very lively game of pool happening not far from where you’re sitting. When your drinks are out you offer to go grab refills while Shay goes to determine who’s currently winning the game of pool.
You make it to the bar without too much trouble and hop up onto a barstool to wait for the bartender to be done serving another customer. You let your eyes wander over the bar, taking it all in. You chuckle when you look over to the group at the pool table even more animated than when you and Shay were watching them.
“What can I get for you?” The bartender asked, smiling warmly at you. You gave her Shay’s and your drink orders and she started making them immediately. Once done she slid them over to you, looking behind you and smiling widely, “Hey Rooster, figured I’d see you at some point. Usual for you?”
“Hey, Pen.” He replied, smiling, “Yes please, add this lovely lady’s drinks to my tab tonight too.”
“Was gonna throw this round on Hangman’s.” Penny winked. “Want me to add yours to his tab”
“Tempting.” Bradley laughed. “Nah, put it all on mine.” She nodded and reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer, handing it to him once she’d popped the top off. “Thanks.”
“Hey,” You smiled, “Thanks for the drink.”
“It’s good to see you again.” He said, smiling back at you, “And it’s my pleasure. I was really glad to see you sitting at the bar when I walked in.”
“It wasn’t in my original plan for tonight.” You admitted, “But I ran into Jake at the grocery store after work. Turns out the person he’s been seeing is my best friend. Between the two of them, they didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”
“No kidding?” He chuckled, “Shay’s your best friend? She’s great. Jake’s a lot… more settled, happier since they started seeing one another.”
“Shay’s really happy too.” You smiled, “It’s nice to see.”
“Want to head over and join that chaotic crew?” He asked.
“Sure.” You laughed. “They were in a very… lively game of a pool. I’m not sure who was winning but it was getting a little exciting from what we could tell.”
“That’s every game of…everything.” Bradley laughed, “We’re a competitive bunch.”
“I can see it.” You acknowledged.
You grabbed your drink and Shay’s and walked over to the group, handing Shay her drink when you got there.
“About time Bradshaw!” Jake said when you walked over, “Phoenix was telling Sparkles the rest of the squad is going to try to poach our chicks! I told her they were ours first. Back me up here! We don’t have to share our little chicks!”
“Sparkles?” Bradley asked chuckling, glancing down at you. You smiled and shrugged. “Didn’t the rest of you get classrooms of your own? Can’t you keep going into those rooms? It wouldn’t be fair to the other kids if only Y/N’s students got regular visits.”
“SEE?” Jake exclaimed, “Y’all have your OWN classrooms. Sparkles’ classroom and chicks are OURS.”
“I’m really feeling very loved here.” You laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever had people fighting over volunteering in my classroom before.”
“Seriously?” Bradley asked, shock on his face. “Sweetheart, I’d bet my paycheck that you have people lining up to volunteer in your classroom. I bet you never have problems filling spots for field trips or class parties or any of that.”
“I mean…” you hedged, “I don’t, but that’s because I just get really lucky and always have strong parent/guardian vounteer numbers in my classes each year.”
“Y/N, do the 1st and 3rd grade teachers report the same thing?” Shay asked pointedly, “Or do they mysteriously have issues finding volunteers again?”
“I don’t know” You said, “They might have issues… maybe they just get busier? Things come up.”
“OR….” Jake intejrects, “It’s YOU that they gravitate towards, Sparkles. Remember that conversation earlier? Being ‘extra’? Adding the sparkle? They volunteer because of YOU. Years down the road, those kids remember YOU.”
“I see where the ‘Sparkles’ came from now.” Shay said smiling. “It fits.”
“Yes, it does.” Bradley agreed, smiling at you. “So it’s agreed, Jake and I have claimed your classroom. The chicks are ours.”
“And Sparkles is Rooster’s” Jake adds, winking at you.
“JAKE!” Shay said, elbowing him in the side.
“What?” He asked, feigning innocence. “I swear, y’all yell at me when I’m not your wingman and you yell at me when I AM your wingman… this is exhausting.”
“YOU’RE exhausting Bagman!” Phoenix said, rolling her eyes.
“I’m not opposed to that statement.” You said, smiling softly at Bradley, who had turned absolutely red at Jake’s words. His eyes shot up to your own, gauging if you were serious. Seeing the answer he was looking for, he let out the breath he’d been holding, smiling back at you.
“I didn’t feel like asking you on a date in front of 24 second graders was probably appropriate,” Bradley admitted, “But I wanted to.”
“We’re not in front of my second graders now.” You pointed out, smirking.
“No we’re not.” He agreed, “Y/N, would you like to go on a date with me?”
“I would really love to go on a date with you.” You said, smiling brightly.
“OOOO, Rooster’s gotta DATE!” Coyote called, cheering loudly. Jake and Fanboy joined in. Shay just looked over at you helplessly laughing.
“Shut it!” Bradley called to them, rolling his eyes, “Act like y’all are old enough to be in a bar.”
A/N: Let me know what you think! :-)
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#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#top gun fanfiction#Miles Teller#Jake hangman seresin#glen powell
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I said Urogi would be next, but my brain said no and gave me this instead. I wrote it in one session so it's not edited at all ><;
SFW, GN reader but reader wears a skirt and is called pretty, Black reader, autistic reader, autistic Aizetsu, Aizetsu has anxiety, reader is chronically ill/has chronic pain
You notice the boys have been a bit listless so you decide to take them out. But individually. It must be tiring always being part of a group, right?
Aizetsu
Karaku was enthralled with his new PS5 game when a knock on his door interrupted him.
"Come in!"
Aizetsu slowly opened the door and stepped in, but didn't go farther than that. He seemed more awkward and folded in on himself than usual. Droplets of sweat hung from his brow and his hands seemed to desperately fidget with the hem of his shirt.
"Oh man. You're spiraling again. What is it this time?" asked Karaku patting the bed beside him, "tell big bro what's wrong."
Without looking up from his feet, Aizetsu shuffled over to sit next to his brother. The closeness seeming to ease his troubles a tiny bit. "W-What should I do when y/n takes me on our date?"
"You go on the date and have fun."
"Not like that. I mean...how should I act? What do I say? Oh god-" said Aizetsu, as he was already starting to hyperventilate.
Karaku sighed and held his arms open, inviting Aizetsu to rest his head on his lap. "Calm down! Breathe. Remember how we showed you?" said Karaku, as he lightly pat his brother's head.
After about a minute or two, Aizetsu felt well enough to continue.
"I want to impress them. A-And I want them to see I can be strong and confident, too."
"But they already like you the way that you are. You don't have to impress them, silly."
"I know I don't have to, but I want to. That's what men are supposed to do, right?"
Karaku sighed knowing he wasn't going to be able to change his brother's mind.
"I got it! You can take them to the amusement park. You're as good at games as I am. Win them tons of prizes to show off. Let them hold onto you on scary rides so you can comfort them."
"That sounds... possible. Yeah. Yeah! I can do that" said Aizetsu as he sat up in excitement, the corners of his lips turned upward just a little.
You were a bit surprised when Aizetsu came to you with an idea for your date. He seemed genuinely excited and eager to go. He didn't like to take the initiative often. Scared to step on Sekido's toes a lot of the time.
As usual, you waited for your boyfriend at the bottom of the stairs. For this date, you decide to wear a blue pinafore skirt with a short sleeve yellow shirt underneath, yellow thigh highs, with blue and yellow colorway Jordan's for all the walking you were about to do. You put your hair up in pigtails and wore a black mini backpack big enough to store your foldable cane just in case.
You looked up as you heard your boyfriend approach followed by Karaku and Zohakuten. His hair was brushed through and tied into a low ponytail and topped with a navy blue slouchy beanie. He had on a lightweight tan button up underneath a plaid dark blue long sleeve unbuttoned and dark blue denim jeans with fresh white air forces.
"Oooh you look so cute, 'Zetsu!" you said as he met you by the door.
He blushed and looked down and mumbled a small "thank you"
A few steps away, Karaku coughed loudly.
"Thank you! You look amazing as always, Y/n" said a suddenly reanimated and forward facing Aizetsu "we should get going."
As the two of you made your way through the park entrance you were bombarded with lights all around from the many booths, rides, and attractions.
"It's so pretty at night!" you said.
"N-Not as pretty as you" said Aizetsu who looked away, but gave your hand a squeeze. "What do you wanna do first?"
"Hmm well all the nocturnal animals should be awake in the animal exhibits! I wanna see some bats!"
Aizetsu led you to the entrance of the maze like animal attraction area. They kept the walkways dark so the slideshows on the walls were well visible at all times. It felt like walking through a movie theater of National Geographic documentaries.
"The aquarium is first" said Aizetsu.
You gasped and pulled him over to the giant tanks. The colors and movements of the fish a constant rainbow for your eyes. You smiled in wonder.
"Hey I've never seen that kind of jellyfish before."
"T-That's a lion's mane jellyfish. They're one of the longest animals in the world. Even compared to blue whales. I like the orange ones the best, but they come in other colors. They only live about a year, though. It's sad, really" said Aizetsu.
You stared at him in amazement. That was the most he's ever spoken at once He knew all of that without even looking at the info plaques, too.
When he realized you were quiet he turned to see you looking at him in shock.
"I-I'm sorry. I was talking a lot, wasn't I? I'll stop I promise" he said looking away in embarrassment.
"No no. That was actually so cool! You must like jellyfish a lot, huh?"
He raised a brow at "cool", but nodded yes. "I used to read about them all the time and I would draw them, but the main body told me to stop. It would get hard for me to focus on anything else like fighting."
You held your chin in thought. Could Aizetsu be autistic, too? Would that mean they all are? Or do they have individual brains? Or-
"Y/n."
Your thought bubble burst when you snapped back to reality. "Huh? Oh I'm sorry. I was spacing out a bit there. What did you say?"
He was pointing at a clownfish. "It's the fish from that movie you like, right?
You perked up. "Oh yeah the clownfish! Funny, clownfish can actually change gender. They're all born male, but can later change to female. The fish in the movie could've changed when his wife died."
They do it, too? Aizetsu thought as he watched you info dump about clownfish like it was a normal thing to do.
You realized you had been droning on and on and blushed. "Oh jeez. Sorry. I didn't mean to-" you flinched when he leaned down closer to your face.
"No, please. Don't apologize for that, it'll make me sad. I love when you talk."
Your eyes lingered on each other's for a bit. "Only if you don't apologize, either. Please."
About an hour later, your hands were full with two bags of plushies that Aizetsu won for you as the two of you sat down to take a break. "This has been so much fun!" you shouted, exhausted.
"I'm having fun, too" said Aizetsu with a small smile "but are you feeling okay? Maybe we should go home?"
From the corner of your eye, you saw a game booth down the way with a jellyfish plushie as a prize. You had to get it!
However, unbeknownst to you, Aizetsu saw a different booth with a clownfish plushie. He had to get it!
"I have to go to the bathroom" the two of you said in unison.
"Right. Uh meet back here? In about 10 minutes?"
He nodded in agreement before the two of you split up.
When you approached the booth, something felt wrong, but you couldn't pinpoint what. Just a feeling of being watched.
The game was simple enough. Throw a ring around a bottle for a prize. "Hey what color do I have to get for the giant jelly?" you asked the attendant.
"For the big boy here, you gotta land on red" said the man as he patted the plushie.
"Deal!" you said as you handed him some money and gave it a try.
You tried. And tried. And tried. On the verge of tears, on your last attempt a red bottle suddenly appeared under your ring and it slid down. You weren't sure what was happening, but you chalked it up to being tired and celebrated anyway.
"Hell yeah! He's gonna love this. I'll take the big jelly, sir" you said, and held out your hands.
As soon as the plushie was in your hands, a hand quickly covered your mouth and the world spinned as you were quickly... almost inhumanly transported somewhere else.
You were thrown on the ground with your bags and things only to find yourself surrounded by a group of about five male demons.
"I think I found us a good one for tonight, boys!" said the one that had rudely thrown you to the ground.
"Hey! What the hell! What do you want from me?" you asked, starting to get worried.
"The rest of your money and your life" said another.
You gazed over and saw another going through your bags of plushies and ripping them apart looking for anything valuable.
"Hey! Stop that! My boyfriend won me those!" you said trying to fight back.
Your body skidded along the dirt as you were easily pushed back.
"Eh, boss. There's nothing valuable here. Just these stupid toys."
Your eyes widened as the lackey went to grab the jellyfish plushie. "No!"
Against your better judgement, you had sprang to your feet and charged the man hard enough to get him to drop the plushie that you latched onto with a death grip.
"Why you little -" the boss of the group started before smacking you hard across the face, sending you skidding across the ground once more.
Before you could get up, the demon was already on top of you with a menacing smile. "Well if you don't have anything else, I know a way you can make up the difference" he said, lifting up your skirt with a claw.
You panicked and tried to scoot away only to get dragged by by your ankle.
"Hey, now. Where ya goin? The party is just getting star-"
The atmosphere suddenly grew extremely heavy. It became harder to breathe and the saliva in your mouth dried up, the feeling of pure malice and murderous intent in the aura made your body feel like lead. You knew what it meant, but never experienced it from the specific source before. You turned your body just enough to see a pair of blue eyes glowing in the darkness.
"An upper moon?! What's an upper moon doing here?" said the boss demon as he stepped away from you.
Aizetsu stepped into the moonlight, a clownfish plushie in one hand and his spear in the other, shaking in fury. You tried to get a better look at his face, but to your surprise his expression wasn't angry. It was blank. Like somewhere deep in his mind blew a fuse. It was somehow scarier than if he had been scowling.
"Don't move, y/n" was all he said, not even looking at you.
You nodded okay anyway.
Faster than you could blink, limbs were being separated from their bodies as they started to be ripped into shreds like a blender. You could barely see the spear move through the air, but you didn't dare move to try to find it.
The other four demons or what was left of them scattered in the breeze as Aizetsu had the boss against a tree with a spear to his neck.
"It makes me sad I can't kill you twice" he said before lopping off the demons head.
Oh. That's hot!
You laid back against the ground and sighed in relief and fatigue. Hungrily taking in gasps of air as the atmosphere softened again.
"Sweetheart, are you alright?" said Aizetsu offering you a hand up.
Your legs and hands had been scraped up pretty badly, your skirt was ripped and ruined, and blood trickled down your chin from a busted lip. You were gonna have a horrible morning.
"Heh. Yeah I'm fine. That was wild. You looked so-" you found yourself backed against a tree trunk before you could finish.
The blank look was still on his face and you shuddered. Was he mad at you? You opened your mouth to apologize before he slowly licked the blood off your face.
"Wha-uh" you blushed and turned into a flustered mess.
A hand snaked up to grip your neck and chin softly as he crashed his lips into yours. The other hand pulling you closer to his body and gripping your ass. He let a deep growl rumble through his chest before letting you go.
Aizetsu had never felt the mix of emotions he was feeling at the moment. Something inside his head just snapped seeing you hurt and threatened. He looked at you who stared back at him as if he put the stars in the sky and blushed.
He supposed that meant mission accomplished, not knowing you were impressed from the start.
"Let go home, y/n."
(*cough*You, of course, got railed. And Karaku hi-fived Aizetsu in pride and congratulations. *Cough*)
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bugna: TAKIPSILIM | destiny's twilight
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Pairing: MCU Moon Knight System (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Avatar Fem!Reader
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CHAPTER THIRTEEN - COMPANIONSHIP AND LATE NIGHT CONFESSIONS.
The night air in London held a hint of chill, and the city's streets buzzed with the energy of a typical Friday evening. Inside the cozy confines of their flat, Marc Spector stood by the window, looking out at the cityscape that stretched before him. He was deep in thought, replaying the game plan for the night ahead in his mind. It was the night of the congratulatory party for the British Museum tour guides at the local pub in celebration of the successful Ennead exhibit opening. Steven Grant’s fellow tour guides, Aleah, and Mira, were gathering there, and Marc couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and anxiety.
Beside him and reflected in the nearby dress mirror, Steven Grant was going through his own preparations inside their shared headspace. After surrendering control to his British alter, Steven finally stepped forward and stood before the full-length mirror in their shared bedroom. A look of concentration was displayed on his face as he deliberated over his outfit for the evening. The two men shared a unique existence within the same body, and tonight, they had to ensure their charade remained intact. It was a delicate dance, a masquerade of identity.
"Remember, Steven," Marc said, his voice echoing within their shared headspace. "We've got to stick to the plan tonight. Recap everything to me, from the top”
“Our aunt’s sick for tonight”, Steven started, opening his closet to go through their newer wardrobe.
“Correct. And?” Marc urged, prompting Steven to recite the next set of alibi they came up with.
“I will be going early to tend to her in your stead”, Steven nodded, his brow furrowing as he further contemplated his clothing choices.
“That’s right. And after that?” Marc gestured once more as his hands circled, urging Steven to go on.
“You will be coming after I leave. To keep her company”, Steven finishes, his mind settling on a checkered navy blue blue collared dress shirt, which he paired with a chocolate brown sweater and gray chino pants.
“Very good, Steven”, Marc nodded approvingly of Steven’s commitment to their ‘twin brothers’ charade. “Let’s get going"
Steven nodded, finally placing Marc's own clothing—a gray hoodie, denim jacket, and blue jeans—neatly arranged and placed in his backpack for the switch later in the evening.
With their preparations complete, they left their flat and made their way to the local pub located within the vicinity of London's bustling streets. The pub, known as Philomena's, was a popular spot among the museum staff. It was an inviting place, with dim lighting, wooden interiors, and the comforting hum of conversation filling the air.
As Steven entered the pub, he was greeted by the warm smiles of his fellow tour guides who were patiently waiting inside. Aleah, with her ebony black hair cascading down her shoulders, was the first to spot him. She waved him over and said, "Steven, you're looking sharp tonight."
Steven smiled politely and replied, "Thanks, Aleah. Where’s Mira?”
“She just went to the loo to touch up”, Aleah nodded in understanding and gestured towards the others. "We've been waiting for you, everyone's excited to celebrate."
Just as Steven was about to engage in further conversation, Aleah exclaimed, "Speak of the devil, Mira, we’re over here!" She waved happily at the direction of the restroom doors, and everyone turned their attention to the recent newcomer.
You finally made your presence known as you entered the pub, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. All eyes were on you as you made your entrance. The latest change in your wardrobe choices has not gone unnoticed. You had opted for a one-shoulder black tank top that showcased your graceful neckline, white pull-on trousers that accentuated your long legs, and black leather sandals that gave a hint of sophistication. Your hair was tied in a high ponytail, emphasizing the elegant beauty of your facade even more.
Steven and Marc couldn't help but be awestruck by your presence along with the rest of your company. You were a vision of confidence and allure, and your transformation left everyone momentarily speechless.
"Wow, Mira!" Aleah breathed out, breaking the silence. "You look very stunning."
"Thanks, Aleah”, a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks as you approached the group. “You look lovely tonight as well."
The compliments continued to flow from the rest of your companions, and you gracefully accepted them, your smile never faltering. Steven marveled at how effortlessly you moved through the attention, and it occurred to him that you were the perfect foil for their charade.
“You look absolutely beautiful, Mira”, Steven couldn’t help but say, eliciting a sweet chuckle from your end.
“You look so dashing yourself, Steven”, Mira smiled knowingly, her eyes searching at the back of Steven’s figure, expecting to see his twin brother. “Where’s Marc?”
With everyone now present, Steven felt the need to address their situation. He leaned in closer to you and spoke in a hushed tone, "That’s actually the thing, Mira. I’m afraid I need to leave a bit early tonight. Got to tend to our sick aunt at home."
You looked concerned, your brow furrowing slightly. "Oh, I hope she's okay. Of course, go take care of her. I’m assuming Marc will be keeping me company later, yes?"
“That’s right. He looks forward to making it up to you”, Steven nodded appreciatively, while Marc heartily agrees within their shared thoughts. "Thanks for understanding. Let's not spoil the celebration, shall we?"
“Yes, we shall”, you smiled warmly, and with that, the mood lightened as you gestured to the bartender next. The group settled around a large table, and you took the initiative to order the first round of ale and beer as your welcome treat to everyone.
As the night progressed, laughter and lively chatter filled the air. Tales of the morning's successful tours were exchanged, and the atmosphere brimmed with a sense of accomplishment and camaraderie. Everyone was especially cheering for Steven and Sarah, the career shifters of the museum tour guide bunch who had taken a risk and been rewarded handsomely for it.
“To Steven, Sarah and all of you”, you raise your glass to toast your tour guides’ successes, and everybody else follows suit. The clinking of glasses, the merriment, and the shared stories created a tapestry of celebration that enveloped them all. Despite the complexity of their shared existence and the need for secrecy, Marc and Steven found solace in this moment of unity and joy together with you.
As the night wore on, the pub echoed with the harmony of shared laughter and the promise of good times to come. In this ephemeral moment, the boundaries of their individual selves blurred, and they were simply a group of people, sharing a drink, celebrating their achievements, and cherishing the bonds of friendship that held them together.
As the hours passed and the clock struck an hour before midnight, the numbers of tourists and locals alike in the pub began to dwindle. Your tour guide co-workers wished you and your fellow colleagues good night to embark on their respective weekends. Steven had also wished you a good night, promising that his twin brother will soon be here to join you and Aleah.
The evening had cast its gentle, amber glow over the city of London as Steven Grant made his exit from Philomena’s, venturing forth into the bustling streets. The cool breeze carried with it the whispers of autumn, a gentle reminder that change was inevitable, even for a man as enigmatic as him.
“Good luck, mate”, Steven whispered to himself, wishing his American alter the best of luck as he finally surrendered control of their body to Marc Spector. It was a seamless transition - one that they are both used to by now.
After his British counterpart’s quick escape from the pub, Marc made his way to the nearby hotel where he would change his own clothes for the night. With each step that he took, the anticipation gnawed at him, coiling tightly around his heart. He knew what awaited him, who awaited him, and the realization sent shivers down his spine.
In the lobby, he swiftly changed out of Steven’s attire that he had worn for tonight and into his own casual clothes - a simple grey hoodie, denim jacket and blue jeans. His hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his collar, trying to regain some semblance of composure. The weight of anticipation bore down on him, a sinking feeling that threatened to pull him under. Marc had no choice but to face this moment head-on, to confront the woman who had captured his heart.
As he made his way back towards the pub, his own nerves threatened to betray him. Marc knew that he couldn't afford to appear anxious or uncertain. He needed to be the Marc Spector that Mira Batala-Carter remembered, the confident and charismatic man who had once been her close confidant back on their last meeting.
You watched as the last stragglers bid their farewells inside the pub, currently seated on a bar stool at the front of the house. Your secretary, Aleah Santos, was the last of your evening company to be leaving you soon in solitude. The warm glow of the pub's lights illuminated her face, casting soft shadows across her features. She had been with you for years, a loyal companion who had become like family.
"Are you sure you'll be okay getting home on your own, Mira?" Aleah asked, her concern evident in her voice. "I could have Bill pick you up and drop you off."
"I'll be fine, Aleah”, you smiled at her reassuringly, appreciating her concern. “You don't need to trouble Bill, it’s the weekend for God’s sake. Besides, I need some time to myself tonight."
“Just be careful, okay?” Aleah hesitated for a moment, her gaze fixed on you as she leaned closer, making sure that only you could hear her next words. "Tonight's the new moon, and as Mayari’s avatar, you will have an especially weak physiology at this time."
“I know that, so stop fussing, okay?” you nodded, understanding the implications of tonight’s moon phase. London could be a different city on nights like these, with shadows and mysteries lurking in every corner. "I'll be cautious, I promise. And if I couldn’t afford to drive home, I’ll stay at the local hotel"
“Sure, you big spender, you”, Aleah chuckled despite her worries, pulling you into a brief embrace. With a final nod and a reluctant smile, she gave in to your wishes. "Alright, then. Take care, Mira. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call."
“Happy weekend, Aleah”, you thanked her, and as she made her way towards the exit, you watched her disappear into the London night. Alone once more, you signaled the bartender for another round of beers, wanting to savor the solitude that allowed you to collect your thoughts.
As you took a sip of your dwindling beer, a sudden interruption startled you. Another hand reached out, snatching the glass away from your grasp. You turned, surprise and a hint of annoyance starting to paint your face, only for that expression to melt away as you locked eyes with the intruder. A familiar American man stood before you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Y'know, it's not safe to be drinkin' all alone, darling", he chided with a deep, suave Chicago accent that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. “Always gotta have company”
A wide grin spread across your face, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. Marc Spector had returned, and you couldn't contain your joy. Without hesitation, you rose from your seat and pulled him into a bone-crushing, tight hug that left him utterly surprised.
"Marc!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with genuine delight. "I can't believe you're here!"
Marc chuckled softly, returning the embrace, the warmth of your body pressing against his. "Surprised, are ya?"
“Are you kidding?”, you shoved, elbowing his torso as you playfully scowled at his direction. “You still fucking owe me coffee that you’ve promised ages ago”
“Sure, sure. My bad!”, Marc doubled over at your light punch to his gut. But he couldn’t help but grin as he saw an identical one growing larger on your facade. “Lemme make it up to you, alright, baby?. How about the next round of beer, on me?”
“Suit yourself, Spector”, you chuckled, blatantly ignoring the endearment that slipped out of Marc’s mouth, feigning ignorance as you started ordering another round of ale and beers. You both settled back into your seats, and Marc couldn't help but smile serenely as he looked more closely at you. It had been far too long since he had allowed himself the pleasure of your company, and now, under the gentle embrace of the London night, he was determined to make the most of it.
The pub's atmosphere seemed to shift as the two of you caught up, the days apart melting away with each shared story and reminiscence. The laughter flowed freely, punctuated by moments of quiet reflection. It was as though time had stopped, and the world outside the pub ceased to exist. For a brief moment, Marc Spector felt like he was home.
"I’m glad to see you again, Mira," Marc began, his voice laced with a touch of nostalgia, "I've missed this. I’ve really missed you."
“I’ve missed you too, Marc”, you smiled, a mixture of emotions swirling in your eyes. "It's been too long since we last saw each other, you know. I actually thought you were actively avoiding me or something."
“Touche, you’ve been avoiding her indeed”, Steven couldn’t help but snicker at your comeback from the reflective service of the bar table, prompting Marc to lightly shake his head at his mental twin brother’s quips. “Like a plague, I might add”
“I never meant to do that”, Marc sighed, tentatively placing his palm over yours as he held your right hand, his thumb slowly circling the inside of your soft hands on full display as he meant to soothe your stormy thoughts. “It’s just… I couldn’t really find the time back then, no matter how I tried and how bad I wanted to see you. But I’m here now, right?”
“Yeah, you’re here”, Mira smiled serenely. “I mean, it’s alright if you were really avoiding me before. I know you just came from a divorce, I… I know how hard it is to form a relationship again after so much that has happened to your life.”
Both he and Steven from their shared headspace were silent as they collectively allowed you to voice out your inner thoughts. Allowing you to let them know and vocalize how you truly feel.
“I know how that feels more than anything, Marc”, you continued, mimicking Marc’s earlier actions as your soft fingers traced the inside of his palms, eliciting a soft, almost inaudible sigh of relief and longing to escape his lips. “So you don’t have to explain yourself, okay?”
“Thank you, Mira”, Marc said, the sincerity in his words palpable as his grip tightened on your joined hands, your half-full beer glasses completely forgotten as he got lost in your hazel brown eyes. “You don’t know how much your words mean to me”
His next action surprised you as he brought your joined hands to his lips, gently kissing the back of your hand as he looked deeply at you, breathing out his next words softly on your skin.
“With you, Mira”, Marc whispered, never letting go of your soft hand. “I’m willing to try again. No matter how long it might take me”
Steven Grant’s face suddenly popped in the forefront of your mind, prompting your gaze at Marc’s to briefly falter. You remembered all too well how your heart thundered beneath your chest at the intimate moment you shared with his twin brother earlier that day in the quiet confines of the staff room. Your recent recollections briefly lingered to your late husband’s as well, your heart still mourning Darius Carter’s death even though quite a substantial amount of years have already passed.
But instead of hesitation and doubt populating your entire being, a strange sense of calm and quiet realization hit you in slow waves. He wouldn’t want you to wallow yourself in grief and sorrow forever.
He would’ve wanted you to be able to find happiness.
“I know it’s too fast, I just got divorced, for Christ’s sake”, Marc’s voice briefly pulled you out of your reverie, him mistaking your silence as a refusal as he internally started to panic (to which Steven tried his utmost best to calm him down). “But I can’t really help how I feel. I… shit, I’m usually better than this–”
“Calm down, Marc. I swear, you and Steven are more alike than I thought”, you shook your head lightly as soft laughter escaped your lips. “Believe it or not, you and Steven are very important to me.”
“You’re important to me too, Mira”, Marc nodded, kissing the back of your hand once again as the rest of the evening finally wore on. The pub’s patrons slowly dwindled even further, but the conversations between you and Marc grew more intimate, the shared history between you two a tapestry of emotions and experiences. It was as though you were picking up right where you had left off, despite the short amount of time that had actually passed.
As the clock neared midnight, the city of London outside the pub seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the arrival of the new moon. But inside, in the warm embrace of the pub, you and Marc found solace in each other's company, a reunion that felt like destiny had intervened to bring you together once more.
END OF CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

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#marc spector x reader#steven grant x reader#jake lockley x reader#moon knight x reader#mcu moon knight#moon knight fanfic#moon knight fanfiction#marc spector#steven grant#jake lockley#moon knight#moon boys#marc x avatar f!reader#steven x avatar f!reader#jake x avatar f!reader#moon knight x avatar f!reader#moon knight series#moon knight system#philippine mythology#philippines#pre colonial philippines#ancient egypt#egyptian mythology#khonshu#mayari#anubis#layla el faouly
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chapter 1 - spotify - chapter 15
Explicit/Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Slow Burn, Enemies to Friends to Lovers
Med-Tek ended in failure - RJ is shattered. Jack Ward, Sole Survivor of Vault 111, pushes him onto a vertibird in search of Plan B - a remote Vault once plagued by Duncan’s illness. After two weeks of kicking RJ’s ass, Olivia Dallaire - a sniper just as talented and cranky as he is - agrees to move to Boston. Her presence forces both Jack and RJ to face problems they can no longer outrun: How do they move on from survivors’ guilt (and be the men Olivia needs them to be) when the Wasteland only seems to tear families apart?
RJ tries to deal with pent-up stress, but his relief is short-lived. He finds a window into Olivia's past at the bottom of his backpack. Olivia's making good on her promise to avoid RJ; a close call proves the endeavour more difficult than anticipated.
That split-second dematerializing surge failed to rush across her body. She lifted her head and looked at her belt while she jabbed the power button a few more times - the device produced a cyan-edged invisibility field at her pelvis; wood planks underneath her just-visible before the field spluttered and denim reappeared.
Panic rose in her chest; goosebumps pricked her skin as metal reverberated through the wood at her back.
RJ chuckled at the kitten in his arms, too small to brave the steps by itself. The rusty metal stairs rattled beneath his steps.
“Now, while I appreciate a good, tall sniper’s nest,” he lectured, “The problem with you, lil’ guy-”
Mrowr-
“No, I don’t wanna hear it. The problem is, you keep climbing up trees and gettin’ yourself stuck places you aren’t supposed to go. Lemme tell you, from personal experience? Messing around at high elevation tends to come with a ton of trouble-”
Her eyes darted across the room for her next escape plan while her breathing quickened. Aware she was cornered, Olivia’s wide-eyed terror mounted; her heart thumped against her throat while the clattering grew closer, then became a ringing in her ears.
“Could get your ass kicked or tumble to your death.. Weather’s crazy.. It can be pretty brutal,” he explained. “This one time, in Canada, I-”
RJ reached the summit and inhaled a sharp gasp while his spinal column pulled taut and his shoulders bolted up to his ears.
Mrrrrrooow?
#robert joseph maccready#there is a spicy scene enjoy#rj maccready#maccready#long time running#fallout 4#fallout#fo4#fallout screenshots#game screenshots#my writing#snippet#fic update
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Growth Notes - Sky's the Limit
Dwayne doesn't usually do house calls, but he's convinced to go on a weekend cabin getaway to visit Sky, an old flame who's been through some very big changes. On the way, he begins to think this syndrome may be having some weird knock-on effects as he meets his ex's new partner, Arun, who's been adjusting to Sky's growth in more ways than one.
Other stories in this series: Omar | Trevor
macro // growth // size difference // hyper cock // bubble butt // nsfw
5386 words
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The only other occupant of the nondescript gas station convenience store was a girl behind the counter with jet black hair pulled into a ponytail in the back of a trucker hat. She glanced at me with mild interest as I walked in, her gaze a halo of lavender-gold eyeshadow framed with expertly sharp wings, resting in my direction just long enough to hold space for one, and only one, question.
“This is the third to last stop of the 84 bus line, right? Near the mountain access road?”
“Probably…?” she offered, softening the blow of nonchalance by shifting the intonation at the last minute and following it up with a half smile that could possibly be read as encouraging.
“Cool, great, thanks,” I said, turning awkwardly to busy my eyes with something as hers settled back on the phone that lay flat on the counter.
I double checked the text from Arun earlier that day. They had indeed said to take the 84 bus line almost all the way to the end, out to the boonies where the loosely defined mountain roads start appearing and they had said to meet them at the Come Again convenience store with the half-lit neon sign. So here I was, my phone barely in service, adjusting my backpack every few minutes and looking at random knick knacks hoping I was in the right place. Next to the gag nametags (they did have a Dwayne, which I appreciated) were what looked like self-produced postcards and flipbooks of the local cryptid sightings, large shadowy figures out of focus and out of range in the forest. This was normal paraphernalia in spots like these, but they had become more common as more men had become afflicted with this ‘macro syndrome.’ And in my line of work, they actually provide useful data. Maybe there’s a higher proportion of cases in the area, maybe they’re just drawn here because a protected forest may provide safer havens and more privacy than more highly populated spots. In one, someone was silhouetted by the sunset, leaning against what looked like a juvenile oak, with a massive hand wrapped halfway around the trunk, naked except for the tattered remains of denim shorts hanging off their waist. In another, blurrier one taken at night, a figure is turned toward the camera with what might be surprise, their body language leaning more strongly towards flight than fight, their half crouch and wide hips registering a familiarity that I could almost place. Could it be…
“Dwayne!” I was snapped back to reality by a jarring slap against my shoulder, throwing me off balance and almost sending me toppling into the display. “Oh, I’m so sorry, dude. Forget my own strength sometimes,” the figure continued with a chuckle.
The voice I recognized, and as I got my bearings I could confirm that it was indeed Arun’s beaming smile and signature thick mustache over pouty, full lips. I had met them a couple times but mainly knew them through social media. They were the partner of my ex boyfriend, Sky, and they were picking me up to take me deeper into the mountains to the cabin they shared. For months, Sky had been trying to convince me to come up for a weekend getaway out of town, and I had finally relented, figuring I could call it a writing retreat and maybe get some work done. Worried I would get lost on my own, Arun was to be my chauffeur from the very fringe of town to the house somewhere in the woods, and now here they were, in the flesh. Golden yellow beanie matched by glittery gold eyeliner, contrasting with a bulky work jacket and noticeably oversized pants. It didn’t seem Arun’s style from what I remembered, but they were in the mountains now, and I guessed they had to look the part. They also seemed much wider than the figure that I had maintained in my mind’s eye, enveloping me in a big bear hug that threatened to lift me off the ground.
“So good to see you,” they said. “And sorry for being late, my supply runs always take longer than I expect and I was counting on the bus being delayed per usual. Hope you weren’t waiting too long.”
“Nah, he just got here,” said the attendant with renewed interest. “We’ve been chattin’ it up. How’s my dearest Sky?”
“A handful, as always,” said Arun with a friendly nudge into my side, one I was ready for this time. “I see you’ve met Lacy,” they said to me. “Our next door neighbor.”
“By next door they mean like five miles,” Lacy said to me. “By the way, thanks again for the help with our roof. Sasha is making Sky one of her famous sweet potato pies. Finished the big brick oven just to scale it up.”
“Oh he loves those, he’ll be so happy,” said Arun, clapping his hands together in delight.
“The roof? Are you and Sky into contracting these days?” I offered, trying to ingratiate myself into the conversation.
“Not exactly,” said Arun. “Sasha has all the know how, but Sky is…pretty useful for big projects.”
“Both of you are, you’re a dream team! You should go into business.”
“Hmmm, we’ll see,” said Arun with a nervous laugh. “Still dealing with a lot of adjustments on the property.”
—
Once Lacy and Arun had eventually finished shooting the shit, Arun ushered me out of the convenience store and into a pickup truck parked out front. It looked only several years old, with a decent amount of rust around the edges and mud sprayed along the side, albeit with some newer looking reinforcements around the body. “You should see the chassis,” Arun mentioned. “Got it reinforced by a guy who works with monster trucks, the suspension on this thing is phenomenal.”
It was another hour of driving before we would reach the cabin, for a while on the county road that the bus dropped me off on, then some less than well maintained backroads through the woods. It was scenic to say the least, as we climbed slowly up into the foothills, late afternoon sun lighting up the autumn-toned valley in the distance and casting auspicious shadows over some small, sleepy town. The trees had reached that point where they painted waves of reds, oranges, and golds across the landscape and had just started to let go of their leaves as if cut neatly by the chill that sharpened the air. I had regretted putting this trip off for so long, but it looked like I had accidentally picked the right time in the season to pop in. On top of that, Arun was an eager conversationalist, filling the space between us with the very prominent, and very endearing, lisp that ran under his soft voice.
“Sorry if I’m talking your ear off,” they said, their eyes scanning the winding curves ahead of us. “It’s just we never get visitors out here. And Sky is such a homebody, he’s always so nervous about leaving the property or venturing out any farther than Lacy and Sasha’s. I’m hoping to drag him out somewhere while the weather’s still nice. Need to get the truck upgraded again before that. Always adjusting for that l’il dude,” they laughed. “But in the meantime, we have you!” They patted my leg in appreciation, smothering my thigh. I couldn’t help but notice their hands were huge. While the left was steering, the right was nimbly working the gear shift, but I didn’t think they could both fit together on the wheel, which looked dwarfed by just a few fingers. I didn’t remember noticing that in the past, but I had only met them in passing a few times.
“So it seems like you two are doing pretty well,” I said. “Not that I was concerned or anything, it’s just I work with a lot of folks who have Sky’s condition and it can really strain relationships.”
“Well that’s one way to put it,” said Arun, their eyes lilting briefly among the clouds, “but yeah, we’re doing great! We’re really making it work, adjusting to his needs, growing through it all. Pun intended.” Their bright smile in my direction.
Not that I was concerned about how my ex was doing for any nefarious reasons. I was genuinely happy to see things going so well with Arun. When Sky and I had ended things years ago, it had been amicable. I was drowning in grad school and he was trying to get his art career off the ground, and we just couldn’t find a way to fit the pieces together. We decided to take a ‘break’ that ended up lasting indefinitely, but we kept in touch. Of course I missed him, I still miss him. When things were going well, it was like sparks flying, and when they weren’t…they weren’t. When Arun came into the picture, it seemed like they provided the grounding force in Sky’s life that he really needed, and I was happy to see it. So when Sky first texted me about his diagnosis, I immediately began to worry about things potentially falling apart.
I try to be careful around the ethics of providing any sort of unofficial counseling, especially for a condition that so little is still known about, but I cared about him, so of course I talked through the changes with him, what to expect, connections to resources and support groups. I also just enjoyed having an excuse to reconnect. We had drifted apart for years and I got to become reacquainted with the life he had built. And like always, some things have a knack for staying the same.
“You know how much he enjoyed being a l’il guy,” Arun reminisced.
“Yeah, he was always really good at being 5’6”.”
“So good at being 5’6”!” We both laughed. “And I mean he’s still a l’il guy. He’s my l’il guy. Just…in some ways and not others.”
I had known some of the highlights of Sky’s growth based on our previous conversations, but Arun used our time together to fill me in on their more in depth story.
“There was kind of the predictable denial phase,” they said. “Sky kept downplaying things or mentioning how his posture was really improving through yoga or he was just gaining some weight, but I was like no, you’re definitely bigger. Like all around. This one time we were out with some friends singing karaoke and the seat of his pants just blew out right there on stage. And by then none of his clothes reached down near his ankles anymore so it was hard to keep denying it. He was pretty embarrassed about it.”
“Did he finish the–”
“Of course he finished the song,” Arun sighed with an exasperated roll of their eyes.
Sky had reached out to me shortly after being diagnosed, when, according to him, he suddenly found himself rising slightly above Arun’s six foot frame. Judging by the text conversations between me and Sky, Arun seemed to think it was cool but their partner was acutely annoyed.
“For a while it was neat because we could kinda split a wardrobe,” Arun said. “But Sky’s not a fan of my fashion sense. He kept wanting to adjust things or buy me things that were actually just for him. Then eventually, well…he was starting to stretch out even my roomier stuff. So we start getting creative, adjusting things, sewing new pieces. There are some great resources out there for how to size up your wardrobe. But also, after a while, he just wasn’t really going out as much. I think our friends were a little weird about it, you must know how people can get freaked out, but he didn’t want to address it directly. Just poured himself deeper into work.”
“Yeah, I remember him mentioning that,” I said. “Focusing more on his studio work.”
“Mmhm! Well eventually we had to move the studio into my place, since his old apartment was kind of a hovel. Not that I was complaining. It was getting past time for us to at least experiment with cohabitation. We were practically already there. And I had someone to clean the tops of the shelves. And the door frames. And the air vents…”
“I remember feeling too cozy in Sky’s old place,” I laughed. “But when did you move out here? I haven’t heard much from him in a while, he kind of disappeared.”
“Hmm, maybe after the third or fourth renovation? Sometimes he would kind of get…stuck moving around the house, and got pretty self-conscious about it. In the city, you only have so much room to make room, ya know, and I think he started feeling pretty cramped. One time the door frame caught around his hips and I had to shove him through. But then it just crumbled around him. Plaster everywhere, it was a whole thing.”
“...Huh.”
“I thought it was hilarious but he seemed pretty upset about. Which I get. I was planning on overhauling that entire part of the house anyways, but we figured we could officially move in together somewhere new. And get some space from all the hustle and bustle and attention. I make enough to support us and I can work from anywhere, so we were flexible, and my former boss was trying to get rid of this property out in the middle of nowhere. It was fate!”
After winding along some side road of a side road, we rolled onto a patch of gravel that looked like it served as a makeshift parking lot, pulling up next to a shiny new 4x4 utility vehicle. The cabin was on the other side of a clearing, and turned out to be much more than the glorified shack that I had pictured in my head. Arun hadn’t mentioned much about what they do for work, beyond the fact that it’s some sort of cushy consulting gig that lets them work from the comfort of what looked to be a two-story glamping experience that apparently they could afford. It was a picturesque, stately log cabin that looked like it was designed to catch the soft light of the setting sun, partially covered in vines and partially under construction. What looked to be the newest addition was a big sliding barn door along the side that ran most of the way to the roof, capped by a small balcony with a handful of houseplants and late season herbs.
I hopped out of the truck, stretching my arms over my head to elicit some satisfying pops from my back and shoulders, taking in my surroundings. The ground was a carpet of partially decomposed leaf litter and humus, a colorful expanse marked by strangely shaped depressions spaced evenly across the scene.
Arun had taken off his jacket and begun to unload the storage totes, crates, and bags full of stuff, as well as what looked like some carpentry and construction materials, that over-filled the truck bed. With this haul, one would think we were preparing for societal collapse and had to hunker down until the summer months. I was impressed by how effortlessly they seemed to be throwing things around, balancing a stack of crates in one hand as they hoisted some two by fours in the other. But I was blown away by the image of Arun in a tank top. They were a wall of muscle across their chest and back, pecs, traps, and lats bunching and flexing visibly as they moved. They looked like a career bodybuilder, exploding with striated, pumped musculature, the straps of their tank top holding on for dear life across the shelf of pecs. But attached to their boulder shoulders was what confirmed my initial suspicions: their arms were massive. Not just a crescendo of muscularity like the rest of their body, but disproportionately extensive. In the few times we had met, I didn’t remember them looking like they had the strength and wingspan to lift their truck and start benching it like a toy.
“Like I said, we’re always adjusting, growing through it all,” said Arun, acknowledging the fact that I was dumb staring. “Can you grab this one?” they asked, pushing a crate towards me. “I think it’s just produce, shouldn’t be too heavy.”
I was only mildly offended as I lugged my single crate full of wholesale groceries, watching their wide lats and massive traps hold several times any weight that I could ever hope to move, as they half-walked, half-waddled towards the cabin, dropping off the first load near a cellar entrance. On the way, we passed by a spiral staircase in the middle of the clearing that led to seemingly nowhere. Just a wooden platform with some plain railings about twenty feet off the ground. We got everything unloaded after one more trip, not that I was all that much help, but Arun still showed their appreciation with a hefty pat on the back. Thankfully, they remembered to hold back this time and not send me careening into the side of the house.
“Hey, babe!” Arun called, using their dinner plate sized hands as a makeshift megaphone. “I’m back. Lacy sends her love.” They moved toward the wooden structure, muttering “He’s probably taking a nap” as they lumbered up the steps.
Not knowing what else to do, I figured I might as well start moseying up with Arun, since even though they looked like they were going nowhere, they seemed like they knew where they were going. But I was caught off guard by the slight drop of my foot into another one of those weird depressions in the leaf litter. I studied it again for a few seconds, the shape of it right on the tip of my tongue, brought forward in my mind by the sound of leaves and twigs crunching en masse, the light periodic thump against the ground getting closer and closer behind me. It was like a really, really big…footprint.
“Finally,” bellowed a familiar voice. “You’re home.”
I turned, with disbelief and intense recognition, to see Sky coming around the corner of the cabin, rubbing sleep out of his eye and stretching his arms wide with a deep, satisfying yawn, letting one hand casually graze the vines training off the balcony as he made his way over to Arun.
My eyes went through the checklist of my usual mental image of Sky. His hair was an undercut with a messy bun on top and dyed its usual lavender, though the roots had really grown out. His nails were painted a charcoal gray, fiddling with the straps of a tight fitting tank top cropped right below his nipples. The curves of his hips swished back and forth with all too familiar gait that said he was excited but didn’t want to reveal that too strongly, under a short skirt that looked to be made of large pieces of fabric sewn together with some skill, elastic run through for a waistband. It was just what I expected to see from Sky chilling out in some cabin in the woods. I just hadn’t been planning on him being almost as tall as the cabin itself.
Suddenly the platform, with Arun waiting patiently for their beau, made a lot more sense. Sky crossed the space between them with a handful of steps, walking up to the platform where Arun was just above eye level. They leaned down to place their huge hands on either side of Sky’s face, giving him a series of tender kisses wherever they could reach.
“Hey, bug. You get into trouble without me?” Arun asked.
Sky nuzzled his face into Arun’s slabs of pectoral muscle, but with the size difference it looked like him shoving his large head against Arun’s entire torso. “I really missed you. You know I get nervous without you. It can be scary out here alone. And also…” he bit his lip and tightened his grip on the railing, threatening to crush the wood in his hands without even trying, before Arun shot him a stern look that said that accident had already occurred in the past. “And also,” Sky continued, “I need that–”
“I know, I know,” Arun cooed, holding Sky’s head against their chest with those massive arms. “But look, we have a guest!” He swept a hand towards me, watching this surreal dynamic from the ground.
“Oh! Dwayne, it’s so good to see you,” exclaimed Sky, realizing, as he stepped closer to me, that I was right at the height of his prodigious package tenuously wrapped in what looked like some sort of makeshift jockstrap. His cheeks blushed as he tried to cover his manhood and still failed with both hands. I remember him being decently hung but it seemed like his junk really took off faster than the rest of him. “Sorry, it’s usually just me and Arun,” he said, crouching down for an awkward hug. Quickly realizing his chest was too broad to even attempt, I settled on wrapping my arms around his neck, my face brushing against the familiar expanse of warm stubble along his cheek. He smelled just like I remembered. Instead of breaking the embrace, I felt the ground leave my feet and with a whoosh of air and suddenly I was up on the platform with Arun before I fully realized what had happened.
“Sometimes it’s easier to talk this way,” said Arun, noticing my slight disorientation, “but you gotta warn people dude, remember?”
In my line of work, I felt like I had seen it all, but it was immediately obvious that Sky was one of the more extreme cases, which explained the inconsistent behavior and strange disappearance months ago. In the event that someone grows past a certain threshold, they’re deemed a significant risk to civil society, whether through infrastructural damage or social disruption, and some health agency comes and picks them up for ‘further treatment’, though it’s never been clear what that means. We’re technically supposed to report the risk of this happening, but I’m not a snitch. And besides, sometimes things get too hot and they take an extended vacation or just…disappear into the woods.
I’d known Sky had the syndrome since he was first diagnosed, and of course we’d spoken about his developments over time, but it was still surreal standing on that platform and getting a good look at him in the flesh. He was still the same, shy, anxious twink but it was like someone clicked the Scale function and started scrolling up. He had the exact same mannerisms as we caught up about life, just magnified, leaning his elbows on the platform and resting his chin in his palms as he gazed intently at me with those big, deep brown, thoughtful pools of his eyes. Things hadn’t worked out between us, but it had been an amicable split, and there was still some mutual attraction there. This was complicated by the realization that, like his dick, his perky bubble butt that I used to be obsessed with had ballooned cartoonishly with his growing body, two planets defying gravity and threatening to take out whoever’s in the path of the swish of his hips. As he bent down to pick up our things and bring them in the cabin, I could have passed out into Arun’s strong embrace right then and there.
Arun worked their magic with a grill and a camp stove, whipping up a feast in the waning hours of daylight. “I was thinking ramen!” they exclaimed, as if they weren’t already stirring the noodles around what could only be described as a cauldron. Sky sat cross legged with an entire platter spread across a tabletop in his lap, practically inhaling a meal that could’ve fed a family of five.
“It’s kind of hard for me to cook,” he said, with an apologetic squint in his eyes. “But we’re working on some bigger equipment, right?”
“One project of many,” said Arun, with sage-like grace. “But I like taking care of you,” they said, with a loving pat to Sky’s round buns covering the ground. I wondered how much of Arun’s day to day just consisted of keeping Sky content, in more ways than one. But they seemed genuinely happy keeping their partner satisfied, leaning against one expansive hip as they ate from their own plate.
As dusk progressed to night, we hung out by the fire. Sky laid on his side with his massive head on Arun’s lap, hips forming a small hill in the darkness. He gave the appearance of trying to cuddle up as close as possible to his partner, even though they were comically mismatched for the task. Nonetheless, Arun gave lazy caresses along Sky’s ears and cheeks, interspersed with a kiss here and there.
“When I was in town, I passed by that new club, Bamboo,” said Arun. “Have you been?”
“Ugh I don’t get out anymore,” I said. “But I heard they have sufficiently messy circuit parties.”
“Sufficiently messy is our thing, we should go sometime!”
“You remember what happened last time,” said Sky, stifling a yawn.
“Yeah, yeah, but anything is possible with some good ol’ fashioned communication and planning,” said Arun, showing an impressive dedication to steadfast optimism. “But maybe somewhere less crowded. Like the beach?”
“Hmm,” he perked up. “Maybe,” earning an approving peck from his partner.
—
The interior of the cabin had been majorly renovated to remove most of the second floor, leaving a single multi use sitting room + office space + bedroom in a cozy loft with a private balcony. This weekend, it was a guest room for yours truly, though according to Arun I was their first guest in this place. “First of many,” they hoped. It overlooked the open space of the rest of the house, which was dominated by an expansive bed covered in a sea of sheets, blankets, and quilts. Sky, who apparently still insisted on being little spoon, looked adorable curled up against Arun, completely dwarfing him except for those huge arms wrapped snugly around his chest.
I fell asleep thinking about the beach. Sky and I had loved taking trips there when we were together. He always seemed at peace with the lapping of the waves, toes dug into the warm sand, salt flecked wind coming off the water. I just loved seeing his bubble butt in a wet speedo. And of course, seeing him happy.
I dreamt of waking up on a lazy afternoon during one of our beach days, my sun kissed skin touching an open book whose words I couldn’t make out. I turned to my left, expecting to see Sky but only seeing an empty towel. Over here, said his disembodied voice, but my head on a swivel, I couldn’t seem to find him. No, over here, again. Looking out to the sea, I could just discern his figure out in the water, walking slowly in toward the shore. The sun hanging low in the sky, his silhouette only gradually seemed to be getting closer, but did seem to be growing much, much bigger. As his body emerged from the water and I could make out more of his features, I saw that he was naked, pendulous dick swinging down towards his knees, the globes of his ass eclipsing the Sun as it fell slowly to the horizon and he rose higher and higher in the sky. As he reached the shore, I could feel his foot falls reverberating across the beach. I missed you, he bellowed, taking up my entire field of vision, one gargantuan hand reaching down and–
I woke in the early morning, coming back to reality with the aftershocks of the dream still bouncing around my head. Strangely, I could still feel the reverberation of the foot falls on the beach, realizing it was something along the outside wall. I ignored it for a bit, hoping to catch some more sleep, before an especially strong vibration shook the bed.
“Ooo, be careful. I don’t want to wake Dwayne,” I heard Sky outside, trying to whisper.
Bleary eyed, I rolled out of bed, stumbling to the balcony. Looking down, Sky was crouched on all fours, bracing himself against the wall with one hand. He was naked, his massive bubble butt arched behind him as he rocked slowly back and forth. My half-asleep mind thought he was just doing stretches, but I caught myself before announcing my presence and reassuring him that I was already awake. His soft moans sounded unmistakably familiar, the exact sound he used to make when I would…oh.
Arun’s head was completely enveloped in Sky’s ass cheeks as, I now assumed, they were eating him out for breakfast. I could only see their ripped torso and muscle butt, also totally nude, coordinating their entire body for an olympic size rim job. Their arms were covered in a sheen of sweat as their hands gripped the underside of each cheek, sinking into Sky’s jiggly booty, and occasionally giving him an energetic slap (full strength this time).
“Are you ready?” Sky whispered, then an unintelligible, muffled response from Arun deep in his cheeks.
I was about to tip toe back inside to give them some privacy when I noticed what Sky was waiting on. I don’t think I had fully registered the appendage attached to Arun’s crotch because I didn’t know what to make of it, but I quickly realized why they had worn such baggy pants yesterday. Their dick looked like it could rival Sky’s leaking monster oozing a puddle of precum on the ground. As I watched, it had progressed past the semi hard log resting against Arun’s shins, appearing to inflate as it grew and grew, crawling along the ground before, miraculously, lifting itself into the air several feet in front of Arun.
“Almost there,” said Arun, after pulling their head out of Sky’s cheeks, taking thirsty gulps of air. They started to take deep, intentional breaths, their face contorting in concentration as their monster cock reached full hardness, pulsing and twitching against Sky’s taint. “You ready?” they asked, waddling backwards to position their heavy dick at Sky’s waiting hole.
“Please, it’s been so long,” said Sky.
“It’s been like two days,” chuckled Arun, before plunging their unbelievable tool into their partner, eliciting a deep moan of pleasure from Sky. If they had had any more concern about waking their guest, it was long gone, lost in the grunts and groans of what sounded like mind blowing wake up sex. Arun settled into a rhythm of powerful thrusts, using their monstrously long arms to move Sky up and down their pole, Sky moving in tandem as he rocked back and forth on his partner’s dick. Sky’s own massive member slapped against the bottom of his sternum with a wet thwack as his beach ball sized nuts distended toward the ground. He settled into an even deeper arch as Arun apparently hit the spot, both of them building toward monumental orgasm. As Sky painted the wall with what must have been gallons of cum, Arun seemed to do the same to his insides, jizz leaking out of Sky’s hole as Arun continued pumping in orgasmic bliss.
Sky cooed as Arun slowly pulled out, taking small steps back in order to reveal foot after foot of unimaginable dick to the morning air. I was still having trouble mentally processing the image. Sky having become a literal giant I think I had successfully wrapped my head around, that wasn’t my first rodeo, but for some reason my brain rejected the unreality of what looked like several feet of schlong extending from Arun’s crotch. Sky shivered as Arun’s massive head popped out of his hole, Arun’s dick audibly slamming against the ground as they leaned back in to rest their head on Sky’s gargantuan booty, breathing heavy with exhaustion. Sky leaned his head back with a final post-coital aftershock of pleasure, sighing deeply into the morning mist and letting his eyes dance in the swirls and eddies, before landing on me, frozen in rapt fascination.
“Oh! Uh. G’morning,” he said, cheeks red as the sunrise.
#I named him Dwayne in my head in the very beginning of this series and never said this man's name until now lollll#Growth Notes
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Hi, may you please spare some advice on what casual, but also cool in a hot climate, clothing a baby butch could look into wearing that’s a bit fashionable and isn’t just a shirt and a cargo shorts?
whew first of all donate any & all cargo shorts immediately (pretend tan france is telling you that Urgently). i do understand finding shorts can be kind of weird depending on ur body shape bc men’s shorts are often bulky & long. i prefer a 5’ inseam, but you can go for a 7’ if that feels better. under No circumstances should ur shorts hit ur knees lol. madewell has some pretty good options (if you can find one that’s mens & womens in-store that’s the best). pacsun usually has some pretty chill options. for online shopping, bearbottom shorts is not too expensive & has a lot of colors in both 5’ & 7’ shorts. i really like the swim shorts both& just made (not sure if they’re sold out). get lighter colors in the summer if you want for shorts, & just… no khaki.
& i love a t-shirt, but it’s in how it’s worn. i don’t think it even needs to be an interesting t-shirt, but it should have a fit & pov that looks intentional. i like to get my t-shirts a size up & tuck them in, sometimes pair them with an overshirt. if i know i’m going to be SWEATING & i want to wear a tshirt, i’ll wear something looser & actually thicker cotton in either black or white. i’ve had top surgery so i can wear tanks without stress but if binding is a concern, both& has some great tanks for ppl who bind.
if you do want to be more dressed up than a short/t-shirt combo, the answer is & will always be linen. a short sleeved linen button up (from really anywhere you like that fits well — uniqlo has both men’s & women’s in many earthtones for under $50!) is The Key. put it on as an overshirt over your t-shirt or wear it buttoned halfway in a french tuck. i prefer to stay away from patterns & bright colors bc it can easily look a little zany, but do your thing there. i have a few pairs of linen pants i also love, especially for things like taking my wife on a date, or if it’s just a cool day/nighttime activity etc. literally just… linen button ups & linen pants, even drawstring pants! if you wanna ball out, theory makes my favorite linen pants, but oak + fort is a close second & much more affordable. everlane also has all of these pieces in mens & womens & is very high quality!
idk ur shoe situation but two great options are always birkenstocks (the rubber ones are under $50 & v comfortable) and/or all white low air force 1s. a good all white sneaker is a great starter sneaker & will always go with everything. i myself prefer dunk lows but u gotta rly be wanting to invest in some sneakers to do that lmao but if you are! they’re cool
lastly, small accessories go a long way! i have a few chains, a small hoop earring, a ring (& my wedding ring but lol i don’t think we can count that as an accessory), & then sunglasses i love. i have a Beautiful watch from my wife but literally just a watch w a normal watch face & a leather band is better than nothing or wearing a smart watch out when there’s quite literally no need lol. a good baseball cap, either plain black or from a cool brand (mine for this summer is aime leon dore) is both a nice addition & also practical. do not & i mean Do Not carry around a backpack unless u Absolutely have to lol. masc cross body bags or canvas totes are much better if u need a bag
also:
- you can find tons of overshirts thrifting or at outlets! since they don’t have to fit perfectly it can be a great place to look for them
- i live & die by a good pair of light wash denim in the summer. allsaints & madewell always have beautiful denim, but you can look at levi’s as well, or thrift!
- tailoring is not expensive!!!!!!!!! if u find pants u love that are too long, just get them hemmed! fr it’s like $10, everyone needs a good tailor
- never underestimate a good sweatshort/t-shirt/overshirt/birks moment to go get a cup of coffee or something… 10/10
- i have definitely not been in a place financially to do this in the past, so pls take this w a grain of salt & of course do what’s best for your budget, but higher quality, simple fabrics ethically made are ALWAYS going to be best. they’ll last longer & keep their fit. launder ur clothes carefully too! hang drying pants & heavy cotton will get their lifespan to extend. & it’s 100% cool to find brands u love & stick to them. if u find a piece u like, u can get it in a few colors, rather than trying to find a bunch of other stuff. quality > quantity, capsule wardrobes are easier to wear & maintain
- some ppl whose fashion i like rn: courtney williams, arike ogunbowale, shanice van de sanden. & sue bird knows how to wear a short/button up summer set with the best of them. kristen kish Obviously. (& also i love mal from the queer ultimatum lmfaoooo)
- wear whatever u want, just not cargo shorts :)
#i can Hear tanny throwing a pile of cargo shorts from the closet to the floor lmaoooo#but rly it’s just linen that’s it that’s the most important thing lol#not to be silly but u should watch s7e2 of queer eye bc tan gives some great butch summer advice!
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All the Best People See You (All the Best People Know), Chapter 8
hello guess who's back so soon here is another installment in my pre-season 4 robin/chrissy inadvertant desert hearts movie date au!!! it is no longer so pre-season 4!!! exciting!!
Robin says Chrissy’s the one with the magic, but Chrissy’s pretty sure it’s the other way around. Something about wearing Robin’s blazer yesterday had made her feel brave, safe, like she could talk about exactly the sort of things she’d practiced avoiding with Miss Kelly last week. Today, Robin’s jacket is black denim instead of a blazer, scattered pins and patches decorating the material, but when she loans it to Chrissy, it feels just the same.
read it on ao3 here
Chrissy hesitates while getting dressed Thursday morning. She’s got her uniform on, her cheer cardigan too, but when she looks at herself in the mirror, she half wants to shrug the sweater off. Hang it back up in her closet. She won’t be swapping it out for Jason’s letterman after first period today. What would happen if she just… left it at home?
Maybe, if she gets cold, someone else will let her borrow their jacket for the day.
She wonders if Jason would offer. Would he insist?
Can’t have my girl looking cold, Chris, she imagines in his voice. I know it’s game day, but here, you should take it.
Maybe it wouldn’t be like that, though. Maybe it would be the opposite.
Baby, how am I supposed to feel you cheering me on all day long if I don’t have my jacket? Plus, you know all the guys are wearing theirs. It’s good for team unity, and I have to set the right example as captain. I thought you girls were wearing your sweaters today.
She half entertains the idea of sneaking into her father’s room to borrow one of his sport coats. What would Robin think if she showed up in a blazer of her own? Or could Chrissy maybe not pull it off the same as Robin does? Robin always looks so cool and effortless in her outfits, like putting them together comes as naturally to her as breathing. Her style is so — her own compared to most of the other girls at Hawkins High. Maybe if Chrissy tried to copy it, she’d just look exactly like she would be: a little girl playing dress up in her father’s closet.
Maybe she could squeeze into one of PJ’s. His size probably isn’t so different from hers. As long as he has something that fits over her shoulders, it wouldn’t matter too much if the arms were a little short. She could roll the sleeves to her elbows the same way Robin usually does.
Chrissy doesn’t typically wear anything tight, though. Her own sense of style tends to favor a looser fit, her closet full of long cardigans and pleated pants, structured jumpsuits and billowy dresses that can be belted in at the waist. Her mom would call those sorts of items forgiving. Things that can change with or hide her fluctuating weight. It also tends to mean it’s less noticeable when her mother buys her clothes a size too large or decides she’s gained another few pounds and takes it upon herself to let out all the seams.
Oh.
Her mother.
Her mother would never let her leave the house in something like that. Not ladylike enough. Of course, it’s one thing to wear her boyfriend’s jacket at school, but it’s another to include men’s clothing as part of her regular wardrobe. And it’s not like she’d be able to hide it from her parents. Even if she managed to sneak into someone else’s closet without being discovered, she couldn’t just stuff a blazer into her backpack and pull it out later. Not if she also wanted to fit any of her books in there.
She’s pretty sure there isn’t a world where her mother would be swayed by any claims that it’s some sort of new trend either. Laura Cunningham always insists that truly well-dressed women always look timeless. Classic. They don’t chase trends that will look silly in pictures they’ll be showing their children one day.
There’s no use, really, in trying to prepare for a conversation she’ll just lose. She keeps the cardigan on.
keep reading
#buckingham#chrissy cunningham#robin buckley#chrissy x robin#robin x chrissy#chrissy cunningham x robin buckley#robin buckley x chrissy cunningham#stranger things#stranger things fic#st fic#inadvertent desert hearts movie date au#my writing
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I did some work but break time so here's some random Norwegian vocab for the monolinguals especially
note that I'll be using nonegender rather than "neuter" to describe the third grammatical gender. This is because that's the Norwegian word for it.
I'll also be using Norwegian bokmål, not nynorsk.
en (masc) / ei (fem) / et (nonegender) = a/an
hun (fem) / han (masc) / hen (third pronoun) = she/he/they
hunkjønn / hankjønn / interkjønn = female / male / (intersex/intergender)
kjønn = sex / gender (one word)
ikke-binær = nonbinary
du (singular) / dere (plural) = you
en informasjonskapsel / informasjonskapselen / informasjonskapsler. (masculine) = a cookie/ the cookie/cookies (the ones that websites have). (literally means information + capsules)
vann (nonegender) = water.
oransje = orange (the color)
appelsin = orange (the fruit)
vindu = window
gjenbruk = reuse / reusing
gjenvinning = recycling
resirkulering = recycling
å være / er = to be / (is/am/are)
å ha / har = to have / (has/have)
å forbause = stuns (metaphorically)
forbauset = stunned
Ondskapsfull = evil (literally evil-suffix-suffix)
ondskap = evilness
ond = evil
vond (masc/fem) / vondt (none) = hurting (adjective)
forkastelig = reprehensible
å forkaste = discard
å kaste = to throw
latter = laughter
å le / ler / ler / ledde / skal le / har ledd = to laugh / is laughing / laughs / laughed / will laugh / have laughed
dongeribukse (masc) = denim jeans
bukse (masc) = pants (us English) / trousers (uk english)
tragikomisk = tragicomic
fornøyd = satisfied
å nøye seg med (...) = to make do with (...)
årsak = cause/reason
klassekamp = class struggle (as in the communist thing)
musiker (masc) = musician
sanger (masc) / sangerinne (fem) = singer
øye (none) = eye
øy = island
island = Iceland
viskelær = eraser
å hviske = to whisper
lær = leather (matte* like a different type, idk google it)
skinn = leather (shiny)
blyant = pencil
bly = lead
krig = war
folkemord = genocide
væske (masc) = liquid/fluid
veske (masc) = purse (but can be used about anything from a backpack to a handbag)
menneske (none) = human
eske (masc) = box
mann / menn (masc) = man / men
man = one/you* (fourth person pronoun, people in general, "one can never be too sure", equivalent to french "on")
maleri (masc) = painting
å male = to paint / to purr (cats)
å gjø = barking (dogs)
å gjøre = to do
å begå selvmord = to commit suicide
mental helse (masc) = mental health
dissosiasjon (masc( = dissociation / disassociation
psykisk lidelse (masc) = mental disorder (mental suffering)
å lide = to suffer
å leve = to live
å fundere (på) = to ponder
å etablere = to establish
grunnleggende = fundamental / basic
kritisk = critical
gitar (masc) = guitar
piano (none) = piano
tastatur (none) = keyboard (computer)
keyboard (none) = keyboard (piano)
litteratur (masc) = literature
veiledning (masc) = guidance
instruksjon (masc) = instruction
blåmerke (none) = bruise
kanel (masc) = cinnamon
vitenskap (masc) = science
vannflaske (masc) = water bottle
flake (masc) = bottle
termos (masc) = thermos
kakao (masc) = hot chocolate
te (masc) = tea
sol (masc/fem) = sun
chips = crisps (British) / chips (American)
dag (masc) = day
forlag (none) = publisher
sitron (masc) = lemon
å lære = to learn / to teach. (you use subject and object forms to indicate which, the default (e.g. when there are just names) is (1st) subject teaches (2nd) object)
læren (om..) (masc) = the study (of..)
lærer (masc) (/lærerinne (optional fem variation)) = teacher
bok (masc) = book
bokstav (masc) = letter (like c, not the thing you send)
å stave = to spell
brev (none) = letter (the thing you send)
matematikk / matte = mathematics / math(s). (yes we add a second t for the short version, it's confusing)
hund (masc) = dog
katt (masc) = cat
hvordan = how
å skje / skjer = happens
og = and
med = with
some examples sentences:
han resirkulerte boken = he recycled the book
du stavet "matematikk" = you spelled "mathematics"
Musikeren lærer seg* å fundere på hvordan folkemord skjer = musikeren learns to ponder how genocide happens
*lærer seg -> reflective verb now.
informasjonskapsler er forkastelige = cookies are reprehensible
Torgeir begår selvmord = Torgeir commits suicide
Latter er årsaken til selvmordet = laughter is the reason for the suicide
boksen er oransje = the box is orange
Du er ond = you are evil
Hen gjenvinner = they recycle. (singular they)
Vitenskapen forbauser sangeren = science astonoshes the singer
Menneskene i Island er fornøyd med litteraturen = the humans in Iceland are satisfied with the literature
chips og te er vondt i øyet = chips and tea hurt to have in the eye
#ink.post#liam teaches random internet people Norwegian#lee teaches random internet people Norwegian#idk what that tag was :/
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Campus Confession
Zero Steps Taken
The sun’s rays spilled into the campus grounds as the clock struck 4 on a Monday afternoon. As I sat on the red bench, the usual shenanigans were happening around me. Grade 7 kids were hoisting the basketball up in the air in hopes that their shot at least kisses the rim, some random Grade 8 kid was smacking his racket on the brick flooring for absolutely no reason, and the multi-purpose hall behind me, now packed with couples, turned into what you could consider as a love hotel, without the love-making aspect. Dismissal time was usually the period for me to play basketball, but I wasn’t in the mood. Well, I was in the mood until she passed by. Her. Her again.
She walked with such grace and poise that the clicking of her Vans, which were inaudible in a rational mind, were the loudest footsteps on campus in my head. As the sparks in the skies took a hold of the rims of her glasses, she clutched a blue file case near her breast beneath her blue denim jacket like she was holding a newborn child. The small black leather backpack awkwardly hanging on her creamy white forearm complemented her tall and slender figure. For the first time in a while, I forgot about the flying balls or the uncomfortable PDA between the couples behind me. It was just her in my mind, taking up space like a condominium amidst a residential area.
I couldn’t say hi to her. I mean, we were close. But I have had feelings for her now for the past few weeks, and the once random woman on campus turned into a Greek goddess sitting amidst a pantheon of the campus heartthrobs. Many others, men and women, have fallen for her before, but I don’t think even my closest friends and past suitors would understand how deep my head is in the sand for her. Thus, for the past few weeks, it was an objective for me to avoid her on the campus hallways, eye contact landing on anything but her. When she walks by and we’re going in opposite directions, the bland wall to my right suddenly looks interesting.
However, I now realize how much of a fool I was to do so. The once uncomfortable feeling of brushing up against her in the hallways turned into something I craved every day for the past few days. It was no longer my internal motivation to go to school to learn. I went to school to see her, to see those stupidly seductive beautiful eyes once more.
She continued walking by, a slight glance at my direction before turning the corner towards the blue bench behind the green bleachers. It was the spot of many of her friends, who were also extremely attractive, but nowhere close to her. She sat down, plopped her file case on the bench and her backpack on top, and crossed her legs like she was the boss of some workplace. Well, she technically is a boss right now. Bossing the heartstrings of my heart like she owned it. Perhaps she owns it now.
No one was around her. An opportunity. Finally!
Every muscle in my body wanted to get close to her just to chat. Beneath the facade, of course, I was trying to build up some sort of connection before confessing to her, but there was no harm in having friendly banter over some random topic. I could bring up that one stupid photo of her from STEAM Week, or ask what dance she’s doing for the next school event, or just straight up tell her she looks ugly even if every cell in my body knows that it is a big fat lie. None of them fit the bill. It’s hard to find a conversation starter when you are going off of zero friendly interactions, but what else can you do?
Three Steps Taken
I walked below the basketball ring. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a Grade 7 kid gliding by the baseline and charging towards the hoop, only to launch the ball high up in the air and hit absolutely nothing. White polos and white undershirts careened and fell in front of me, but I stepped over all of them and fixated my gaze on her like she was the rarest diamond of all. It’s as if time slows down for the objects around her. The leaves falling around the blue bench, the pigeons passing by to snatch seeds on the brick pavement, the swaying of baby bamboo behind her, all suspended in motion.
One of her friends spotted me.
Great. Another problem I have to deal with. Her friend gave me the look like she knew what was about to happen, and she did. I told her a few days ago. I figured it’s a bit necessary for me to let at least one of her friends know beforehand that I was about to confess in order to make what’s about to happen next easier.
The cheeky grin permeated through the white N95 mask, nearly plastering the scrunching of her nose and the dimples on her cheeks. In a snap, she quickly grabbed her packed lunch of Vienna sausages, jug of water, and pink backpack to beckon the others to get away from the scene. Mixed emotions surfaced among the group. One furrowed her eyebrows and looked at her like she was crazy. Another stoically started packing her things. Another widened her eyes in bewilderment. Something tells me that the third one knew what was about to happen too. I guess I can’t avoid some spillage of the issue.
Once they cleared out, it was just her on that bench once more. Her legs were no longer crossed, but she was still in her normal seated position, hands on her lap like she was a prim and proper princess. This time, however, her silky smooth hair could pass for a tiara and it won’t take a ball gown to show off how elegant she could be. Maybe it’s real or the rose-colored glasses talking, but she was unbelievably magnificent.
Five Steps Taken
I walked towards the green bleachers. Heart pounding. Palms sweating. Lump in my throat. Dizzy. It’s like I’m warming up to prepare for a championship basketball match, but instead of shooting from the three-point line, I’m shooting my shot at her. She’s that cheerleader on the sidelines with pigtails and pom poms flying around. I’m the star player dribbling the ball up the court trying to save the team from elimination. Around twelve seconds on the shot clock. Eleven words in my head to say before I run away and never show my face to her again: “Hello po! Gusto ko lang sabihin na gusto kita. Thank you!” Then ten steps to run towards the campus gates in embarrassment and go home.
Deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. Straighten my collar. Pull at the hem of my polo. Smell armpit. Caked with deodorant. Okay, I’m ready.
Before I even took another step, she jerked her head towards my direction and gave me the cutest wave I have ever seen. Cupid hit a bullseye straight to my heart. It’s the way she tilts her head to the right, shakes her wrists so excitedly, and squints her eyes until there are almost two horizontal lines on her face that make every moment I ignored her in the hallways a lifetime regret. However, I could right my wrongs now, stitch up the wounds I got for every time I ghosted her. Tell her everything. Tell her that I lik—
“Hello!” a deep, thundering voice echoed throughout the campus cliffs. He was the captain of the volleyball team. Of course. It’s always the meathead jocks.
Seven Steps Taken, Backward
I backpedalled toward the basketball ring once more. She whipped her head around to spot him jogging over. It was over.
“Hi!” she exclaimed.
“Kumain ka na?”
“’Di pa. Tara?”
“Tara.”
The two of them got up. He went and wrapped a strap of her backpack on his shoulder, clipped her file case in his armpit, and held her hand as they walked away from the blue bench.
“No worries. I’ll do it next time.”
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