#rap sh!t
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lezkissgifs · 1 year ago
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Rap Sh!t S02E07
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notapradagurl7 · 18 days ago
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We Meet Again.
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Black Fem! ReaderHairStylist! x Lamont Diggs.
Fandom: Rap Sh!t(2022-2023)🥲
Summary: When your niece, Kailey is best friends with your client's daughter that you drove to school but didn't give them right back to your sibling, you didn't expect to run in Lamont again and you didn't know that he had a crush on you, leading to more than a confession.
WC: 3,435k
A/N: I’ve been wanting to write about Lamont for a minute! He’s been fine to me since day one, and I miss rap sh!t, 😭 don't forget to leave comments, likes and reblogs are welcome to support, drop a request if you like, they're always open! ❤️🫡
Warnings: fluff, dirty talk, praise, fingering, use of AAVE, cussing, angst, mention of neglect, use of the n-word, rough sex, unprotected sex, head(fem receiving) consensual for both parties, confession, PWP, pet names, sibling rivalry.
Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @satoruya @planetblaque
@playgurlxoxo @naj-ay444
@becauseimswagman1 @jazziejax
@beenathembo @brattyfics
@hxneyclouds @henneseyhoe
@yassbishimvintage
@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24
@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky
@euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @caashmoneynae @miguelspvssy @liatreads @kaylaahisthebestest- @uniqueoutlierblog @dxddykenn
@mind-somewhere-else
@kindofaintrovert
@lady-olive-oil @23jammy @musicisme333  @saturnville @enchantedillumination  @mogul93 @theereina @uzumaki-rebellion @blyffe @fakxmbj @kumkaniudaku @ranikyani @mama-2001 @luckydaye777
—————
Your gaze drifted to your niece Kailey through the rearview mirror, where she sat in the backseat, radiating pure joy. Her bright smile lit up her face, and her raven hair was intricately styled into box braids, each adorned with colorful pink and white beads that jingled softly with every movement.
The sunlight spewed through the window, casting a warm glow on her smooth brown skin, making her look as if she was glowing with anticipation.
You chuckled lightly before almost driving when the traffic light turned red, Kailey was always so excited about going to school, learning and seeing her new best friend, Melissa.
“Someone’s excited huh?” You hummed with a grin, before your eyes flickered back to the road.
“Yeah, I get to see my best friends today, Melissa, we share cute stickers and play games, Toby and I always trade Scooby Doo fruit snacks too!” Kailey exclaimed, looking at you with a smile.
Damn, you remember those Scooby fruit snacks in middle school through high school. You made a mental note to buy a plethora of them when you went grocery shopping for you and Kailey.
Also, make a mental note to call your sister for the umpteenth time but she never picked up the damn phone. It was never “hello, how are you?” it was always “Has Kailey been fed yet?” as if her child was a pet, not a human.
“It’s good to have friends you can have fun with and trust Kai, and we get to spend the weekend together again,” You sang playfully, watching her grin.
It appeared that today's children had a tendency to cycle through best friends as easily as one might change outfits—discarding old friendships with casual indifference, treating them as if they were nothing more than disposable items.
“I like spending time with you more than Mommy, she never asked how my day was, never checked on me, nothing,” Kailey mumbled under her breath.
Your grip tightened on the steering wheel at the softness of her voice, the sadness that you wanted to destroy and let it not come near Kailey or you.
Why did Mariah have to be such a bitch? How to have a child if you were going to put her through this? Why have sex without condoms if you know that you're going to be a bad parent—-
“Green light, auntie!” Kailey exclaimed with a giggle.
Her voice brought you back into reality as you made a left turn through the highway. The faint sounds of cars beeping horns and passing through, prickled at you. Almost making your eye twitch.
In vibrant Miami, life was a balancing act; you juggled three jobs that defined your chaotic yet fulfilling routine. By day, you transformed looks as a passionate hair stylist, and by night, you served drinks and meals as a part-time waitress.
In between those roles, you played the pivotal part of chauffeur and auntie, dutifully driving your niece, Kailey, from her home to school and back again. Kailey often stayed at your house, sometimes for days, often for nights at a time.
Meanwhile, your sister, Mariah, was perpetually busy with what she claimed was a thriving career at a prestigious corporate firm, one that left little room in her life for the needs of her daughter.
Mariah’s relentless ambition drove her to prioritize her desire to climb the corporate ladder—her sights set firmly on the role of CEO—over the maternal responsibilities that came with raising a child.
In her attempts to reclaim a life unmarred by motherhood, she became increasingly neglectful of Kailey, and this deep-seated frustration gnawed at you.
You couldn't shake the looming comparisons to the character Toni Childs from the TV show *Girlfriends*: rude, manipulative, and consumed by her own desires.
Clearly, she cared for Kailey and raised her well, but it was apparent that she eagerly anticipated your arrival to take her child, allowing her some personal time. However, children are perceptive and can sense when something isn't right.
“Auntie Y/N, is mommy going to be home when I get back?” Kailey asked, her voice laced with a hint of worry.
You glanced back at her, your heart melting at her innocent expression, “No, baby. She won't be home. I can't lie to you when I tell you that she’s not doing a job, i'm making that money so we can have fun, right?”
You understood Kailey's feelings at her age because your mom acted the same way when you were young.
You supported your sister while your aunt took on the parenting role and told you both that sometimes parents can be awful and may not prioritize you. She wanted to reassure you that you weren't alone in this.
The car came to a complete stop in the elementary parking lot and you killed the engine, pressing the button, hearing the crisp clicks of the locks unlocking. You stepped out while closing the door behind yourself, opening Kailey’s door for her, grabbing her hand as she jumped out.
After letting Kailey out of the car, her tiny shoes clicked on the concrete. You quickly held out your hand out as she gripped yours tight, “Are you for school?”you asked with a smile.
“Yes, I am, I can't see my friends and hang out with you,” She replied back.
“Have a great day okay? I love you pooh bear,”
“I will, you have a great day too, Auntie Y/N!”
Kailey ran into your arms, enveloping you in a tight, warm hug, you kissed her forehead and gently put her down.
As you observed the cheerful brown-skinned girl dash off with her friends, they made their way toward the double doors that swung open, by their favorite teacher. Ms. Wilson, her skin similar to a butterscotch hard candy in your grandmother's purse.
Standing by the doors, Ms. Wilson, framed her face, her curly pixie cut was in a shade of chocolate brown. She wore a light blue collared tee, paired elegantly with a diamond-patterned pencil skirt just below her knees. Her black heels clicked softly against the floor as she moved.
With a wave of her hand and a friendly smile directed at you, she created an inviting atmosphere, prompting you to respond with a kind wave and a warm smile in return.
“Thanks for everything, Ms. Wilson!”
“Of course, dear! I'm glad to always help!”
You were happy to have the same teacher growing up and now Kailey has that, a teacher that cared.
You turned to spot a recognizable tall man with locs, his brown skin glistening in the heat. He wore a grey t-shirt and grey shorts that hung loosely around his bare legs, while his crisp white Air Forces clicked rapidly against the sidewalk.
His daughter Melissa tugged on his hand. She had her locs in pigtails, brown skinned, dressed in a pink dress and sneakers.
It had been ages since you last laid eyes on him at that vibrant cookout your family hosted five months ago.
Hearing those toxic stories about them and yours made you cringe, the back and forth between them, and honestly you remember one night when you smoked weed with him and blurted out that Mia didn't deserve him. He deserves better.
Once he heard that, he held on to what you said. Keeping it tugged in the depths of his mind like you passed him a secret love note in college, avoiding the prying gaze from your classmates and professor.
And you never heard him speak of Mia’s name ever again, as if she was Lord Voldemort from Harry Potter. He only discussed his music-producing career and his daughter, Melissa.
The sun was shining brightly, and laughter filled the air as your daughter and niece enjoyed their playdate amidst the lively cookout.
Your aunt Cassie, was also the matchmaker, had invited Lamont, knowing that the two of you had a genuine friendship that she believed could grow into something more.
Her strong disapproval of Mia was evident and has been there from the start. Only fueling her desire for a connection between you and Lamont.
That man was fine, fine.
You knew about the complicated relationship between Lamont and Mia, who have a daughter named Melissa, and you only restyled Lamont's locs; he paid you the substantial fee you asked for.
“Come on, Daddy! I don't want to be late for school,” Melissa exclaimed, tugging onto the hem of his shirt.
You hadn't seen him in a while; life had gotten busy, but this moment felt nostalgic.
He approached you, his daughter tugging at his arm impatiently. “I swear she’s gonna pull something else if I don't get there faster,”
“Tell her to take it easy, it’s just school,” You replied with a chuckle, smiling at him.
Lamont chuckled and shook his head, “Not when she’s ready to see her best friend Kaliey and Toby, also its arts and crafts,” he replied, rolling his eyes dramatically.
His eyes locked with yours again, and you felt the tension rise between you. “You know how these kids get,”
You laughed, the sound light and airy, as you watched his daughter talk lively about her plans for the day. It was hard not to notice the admiration in Lamont's eyes as he listened to her, a proud father in his element.
“Daddy!”
“Okay, okay,”
You watched them walk inside, the doors closed shut with a loud click and the bell rang immediately after, moments and moments later. You were brought back to reality by the familiar sound of sneakers scuffing against the pavement.
You turned to see Lamont walking out of the school, his tall frame striding toward you with a look of satisfaction, you felt butterflies in your stomach. That feeling you couldn't shake when you were around him.
“Y/N!” he called out, and your heart did a little flip.
“Hey, everything okay?” You asked, curiosity crept up as your eyes locked with his.
“Yeah, just wanted to catch you before you left, I was thinkin’ maybe..you could help me out with my locs,” he asked, running a hand through his locs. Y
You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile spreading across your face, “Oh? You're asking for a hair appointment, huh? Is that your way of saying you want to spend time with me?” you asked with a head tilt.
“Well, yeah…I mean, I wouldn't mind some of some of your company today, just us?” He said nervously, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
Was he that nervous around you or was it just the Miami heat?
“I wouldn't mind your company either, I can definitely retwist your locs,” you replied with a smile, keeping your tone light.
“Cool, can I ride with’chu in your car?” he asked again, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yes,” you hummed in response, leading the way to your car. You unlocked the doors, and he slid into the passenger seat with a grin as you both settled in.
As you pulled out of the parking lot, you stole a glance at him. Driving off the school and made a right turn on the street.
The luxurious houses of the neighborhood flashed by, side by side, sprawling out well-trimmed green grass and manicured gardens. Lamont gazed out the window, impressed by the level of opulence that surrounded the ambiance.
Parking into the driveway carefully, killing the engine. Unlocking the doors and stepping out. “Nice neighborhood,” Lamont commented, his eyes roaming the place.
“Yeah, my aunt left me the house after she found another place to live, it's a bit much for me, I make it work,” you replied with a shoulder shrug.
“I can see why you like it, it's peaceful,” He nodded, his eyes still scanning the area.
Both of you walked over to the front door, and you pulled out the keys. Once inside the house, you took off your shoes, and Lamont followed suit, setting his by the door.
As the two of you settled onto the couch, you grabbed the comb and twisted hair cream. Putting the soft pillow between your feet, "Sit," you said, your eyes on him.
Lamont did as you told him, you grabbing the twisting hair cream and light green comb from atop the dresser, starting to retwist his locs carefully with skill.
“How come we never took that chance?” he asked you with a soft tone.
Your eyes widened at what he was saying, you were a bit confused. “What do you mean?”
“Us, you and me,” He recited with a serious yet soft tone.
As you finished the last few locs on his head, you pondered on it deeply. You wanted to know the same thing too.
“Umm…maybe because we were busy, you were still with Mia, I've been watching over my niece since my sister doesn't want to do it, life..” You confessed to him.
Once you were done with retwisting his locs, he stood up and sat beside you on the couch, giving you a serious yet softened expression, as if he had something on his mind that he has been holding it so long.
“I really like you, I want you to be my girl and I'm sorry that I—”
“Lamont…i get it, I like you too but can we make this work? You’ve got Mia, and I’ve got Kailey, I do want this to work,”
“I believe we can, you trust me right?” Lamont asked you, his hand atop yours, his thumb swiped over your palm.
“Yes, I trust you, Lamont, you're mine right?”
“All yours, baby,”
Your heart raced as he gently laid you back on the couch, their kisses growing deeper and more urgent. Each of their clothes taken off, tossed and littered across the bedroom floor.
He positioned himself between your legs with his hands tight on your hips, and rubbing his tip against your folds, your wetness coating his dick perfectly, "L-Lamont...fuck me..please.." you whined, moving your hips with him, hearing soft squelching sounds filling the room.
Lamont grinned in response before leaning down, "A'ight, since you're direct tonight, I'll give this dick," he teased, pushing himself inside you as she wanted from him, moaning wildly. Your pussy was to die for, and Lamont is gonna kill for it.
Lamont pressed his lips back to yours, rocking his hips into you at a rough pace. The bed creaked underneath their weight with every thrust, your nails felt a trail of marks on his back, "Oh fuck! Lamont!" you mewled, tears burning through your eyelids. Your arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him again.
He hoisted you upwards to ensure that you faced him forward in his lap to ride him, Lamont hissed sharply and his eyes fluttered closed, a low 'fuck' left his lips as he watched your face contort with pleasure. Neither of them wanted the night to end yet, they wanted more rounds to make up for every day that they didn't see each other.
"Shit..right there!" you mewled loudly, the words escaping you, you swivel your hips gently against him, riding his dick with skill. You forced your eyes open, meeting his loving gaze, moving with your pace. "Right here, baby?" he hummed, hitting that sweet spot repeatedly.
"Damn, baby.." he groaned in her ear, his praise gave you an intense thrill, he utterly filled you up. You started to vigorously bounce on him, feeling waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "That feels so fuckin good, more," you whined again, your nails scratched into his skin harder as you let out increasingly inhumane moans.
His fingers tracing the stretch marks on your ass, every delicate mark was a work of art to him, and Lamont felt a rush of gratitude for the beauty before him, your fingers tangled through his locs, and he watched your essence spill all over his dick and drilling his hips upwards, "You're always this wet for me?" Lamont rasped, licking his lips.
"Y-Yes! it's..f-for y-you!" You stutteringly wails, your eyes rolled back. Lamont's hand delivered a firm smack on your ass and she hissed. "Faster.." he demanded, watching the woman bounce with his merciless pace, you only let out a plethora of unholy moans.
Every thrust felt loving, meaningful and that's what he wanted you to feel, trailing kisses along your neck, worshipping your body with every touch, kiss and stare.
"Don't stop..harder..please!" you stammered desperately, biting your lip. Your slick walls hugged tightly around him as he pushed harder, his hands gripping your asscheeks. "I won't, I missed you, you know that?" he groaned in your ear.
He withdrew and swiftly turned you onto your stomach before he finished, carefully sliding back inside as you opened your mouth silently, "Y-yes! I-i missed you so much!" you cried out, feeling him push further and his thrusts becoming more forceful with desire, he took charge as each motion drew breathy gasps from her, fingers clenching the blanket.
“I missed you more,” he said, swiveling his hips, watching her squirm underneath him, you could barely respond, but that's the part she loves.
You loved to feel every inch, so lost in the sensation of him filling you up completely. "Lamont, I-I d-don't w-wanna c-cum—-" you gasped sharply, your head fell onto the pillow, feeling the knot tighten within her stomach, his pelvis meeting her ass after every thrust, making a clapping sound similar to a gunshot.
With each stroke, he pushed her closer to the edge. His hands gripped her waist. "I know, baby, one more time for me?" Lamont grunted, you squirmed beneath him, sending jolts of pleasure through you, Back arching and his palm spanked your ass again, he watched sticky strings of your essence break between them.
"Yes...only for you, i'm-gonna cum!" you replied, your voice strained with effort. Leaving you breathless and squeezing your eyes shut. His thrusts turned sloppy, and sporadic, both of them were so close, "Fuck, me too,"
Feeling her climax gushed on him, Lamont followed suit, pulling out and his warm cum spilling forth on the couch as he groaned, "Just like that," he breathed, their bodies entwined in a blissful haze. You felt him pulse inside, as he felt your heartbeat too, They both shuddered and he pulled out after, collapsing beside her.
Their naked bodies laid side by side, Lamont pulled her close, you rested your head against his chest. Hearing his heartbeat with your, with their backs against the sheets, breathing heavily and chests raising and falling in sync, chuckling lightly.
"Lamont, you have no idea how many nights I thought about this moment." you said, kissing lips twice. Still riding the high of their connection.
"But I wanna another but I gotta pick up my niece..” you confessed, tracing shaped on his arm. Her heart swelled with love.
You stood from the couch, gathering clothes, and taking a shower. Then you and Lamont walked out of your house, settling inside your car, driving off.
Knowing that your friendship was becoming more, it was something you wanted for so long. Lamont kissed your cheek, and said “I'm all yours, don't worry,”
———-
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poison-into-positivity · 1 year ago
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So apparently Max just canceled another original show, Rap Sh!t, which follows two Black women and features a predominantly Black cast.
It has pretty good reception too! There was no reason to cancel it! Genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, what the fuck is that company thinking right now.
Cancelling two well-received Max original shows that center around minority voices within two weeks of each other. Max has never looked worse.
David Zaslav is NOT coming back from this.
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cosmic-hoebo · 10 months ago
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Lamont Diggs | Rap Sh!t
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sonnetforbonnet · 9 months ago
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Don't Stream on Max, Stream Scavengers Reign on Netflix!
Hey, Don’t Stream On Max folks! If you have Netflix, stream Scavengers Reign! Show Max just what kind of success they’re missing out on! Who knows, maybe Netflix will renew it for a S2?
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@saveofmdcrewmates @adoptourcrew
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kristalllkula · 1 year ago
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jazziejax · 20 days ago
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𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐍𝐞𝐰
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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 +
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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.
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@saturnville @notapradagurl7 @nubiawrites @zillasvilla @slvt4her @saltburnsworld @melaninhawtie @jOysyndrOm3 @moooonluvr @henneseyhoe @blkgirlsneedlove2 @kinginwithbreezy-blog @sheaabuttaababyy @nubiagurllll @inkedbydesire @rosaaverse
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xothemedia · 1 year ago
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Rap Sh!t 1x7 | “Something For The DJ”
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observethewalrus · 1 year ago
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Hey guys, Rap Sh!t was also just canceled, I’ll give you one guess which streamer it was. I saw their petition on twitter but haven’t seen it here, help them out if you can.
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notapradagurl7 · 23 days ago
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LAMONT DIGGS MASTERLIST.
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We Meet Again.
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chaneilkular · 1 year ago
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blackgirlcinephiles · 1 year ago
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Rewatching the latest Rap Shit episode and didn’t even peep the foreshadowing
“What would you want your last meal to be?”
😟😟😟😟
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literaryspinster · 1 year ago
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I so love this body type on her that I fooled around and ended up loving it on myself.
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nabijaeeon · 1 year ago
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finished my season one rewatch of rap sh!t and she’s so pretty
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mann-of-1000-thoughts · 1 year ago
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youtube
In this new Simple Thoughts, I wanted to voice some frustrations I've been having with streaming services like Netflix and the like. With stuff like the Ghost and Molly Mcgee ending and Rap Sh!t getting cancelled, there's been a slew of cancellations or shows ending early happening to so many series now and I've seen many say how they're tired of keeping up. To some it feels like watching Tv is done out of obligation rather than enjoyment. This was me putting a voice to the grievances people have been having
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beewattss · 1 year ago
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I plan on starting a podcast with one of my besties this year. After taking w her we decided that there isn’t enough raunchy queer, black, neurodivergent media so we’re filling in the gaps.
This is a list of shows/movies that I think would come close to the vision (but nothing hits it exactly)
Rap Sh!t
Bottoms
Boondocks
Insecure
Pvalley
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