moody

blk 22

[moodymp4]

welcome to the moody.zip file

moody ‎ ˚꩜⋆ 22 ‎ ˚꩜⋆ she/her ‎ ˚꩜⋆ black-american ❤️🔱🖤

writblr: @luvmoody ‎ ˚꩜⋆

fav things ❤︎  

music, reading, tyriq withers, video games, being black, writing, sports, the gym, whimsy, interacting with moots, having a good kii and fine shyt ⋆˙⟡

fav song at the moment ˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ 

Oops (feat. Arran Kent) by Emmavie on Apple Music

Song · 2019 · Duration 3:41

[jayvanche]

D.A.T.E

summary: this was just a funny little post I wanted to write based on this tik tok.

wc:1.2

“Babe!” 

“…Baby!” You called from the front door. You usually popped up on him from time to time after he gave you a copy of his key. 

“In the room!” Following his voice you walked in on him laying on the bed watching T.V. He rubbed his eyes looking over at you giving a sleepy smile. 

“You were sleep? My bad” you pouted standing at his room door. Knowing how hard he worked during the week, it made sense. 

He shook his head and reached out for you.”You good boo c’mere” his other hand resting in his sweats. 

Smiling, you almost dived onto the bed and cuddled up next to him. “Must’ve been a long week” you inquired, snuggling into his chest. Your hand comes up to play with his chain. 

“The week was cool up until yesterday. Was busy from opening til close. Barely ate lunch, almost didn’t eat dinner.” He looked at the T.V. and played with the hem of your shirt out of habit. “Slept pretty good though, I took a nap outta boredom foreal” 

You looked up at him, “What you wanna do?” He shrugged going to pick up his phone. “I know you can’t sit still for too long.” 

“Ion know. You got somethin’ in mind” he briefly looked at you turning his attention back to instagram. 

“Nah I was just gonna spend time with you.” He hummed, nodding his head some. Continuing to scroll, he came across a video of a girlfriend making her boyfriend choose between two activities on index cards.

“How come you don’t be taking me on dates?” He looked down at you. Your face twisted a little in confusion. 

“Baby what you mean? I took you out for your birthday” 

“Yeah but like..other than that. I be wantin’ to get treated year round” he looked off feigning offense. Aaron knew you would often fight with him over paying the tab when you felt it was a little high. This was just a test.

Breathing hard you sat up on your hand looking down at your man. “You know what? I agree. Let’s go to that arcade uptown. I heard it’s pretty cool.” he perked up hearing the suggestion. 

“That don’t sound half bad actually. Imma get dressed real quick. Gimme bout 20 minutes” he looked at his phone getting up from the bed. Around the 15 minutes mark, Aaron was already refreshed and ready to go. Your eyes trailed down his body, eyeing the way the all black fit with his gold chain looked on him. 

“You look good papa” getting up to meet him at the door, your hand went to his abdomen getting on your tip toes to reach his cheek. “A little too good” you mumbled walking past him. He heard it and laughed and his palm gently landed on your butt. “Cmon we can take my car”

Aaron looked like a kid at the candy store from the moment he walked into the arcade all the way up to the 2nd hour mark of being there. He bounced from machine to machine, beating you in some and letting you win most. He even battled little kids making them cry before you criticized him. Now it was time to go and grab a bite to eat.

“It’s good boo?” you watched him. He’d downed an appetizer, 2 margaritas and now the entrees had come out and he was going ham. The whole time he vented about his week. The karen that came in tried to return a T.V. that wasn’t even purchased from the company. How the new hire got caught smoking in the bathroom by a customer and offered them a hit. Yes, the customer took it but he still had to terminate him.

“Hell yeah, ain’t been to longhorn in a minute” he took a sip from his drink sucking it down til he hit ice. 

“We came here two weeks ago” you deadpanned.

He paused looking up as if he was thinking. “Too long baby, still too long” proceeding to move through his plate.

“You gone sleep good tonight” you shook your head at him as he called the waitress over for another drink. 

Your dining experience had come to an end and you two were in the car on the way back to his apartment. As you drove, your hand went over to rest on his thigh. He stopped nodding his head to the song playing side eyeing you. 

“Y/n…”

“Yes?” you glanced at him.

“You don’t wanna put both hands on the wheel?”

“Mmm nah, I’m good” your hand begins to rub his thigh. “You enjoy yourself tonight?” you asked eyes on the road.

He nodded, “Yeah, we gone have to go back to that arcade. It was fun.” you hand inching up more and more but his babbling went on and on oblivious at first.

“Yeah I wasn’t a fan of the potatoes either” 

“Next time we should go with Darius and his gir– baby what you doing?” he attention went down to your fingers that just grazed his crotch. 

“What you mean?” 

“I mean you treating me like a thot right now. Drivin’ and feelin’ me up like imma girl or sumn”

 

“Stop playin’ ” you eyed him as you turned into his complex. “You know you gotta come up off that”

He looked at you surprised. “Come up off what?” he laughed a little as you parked in front of his building. 

“That dick boy, whatchu mean?” he laughed in pure bewilderment.

“The hell you mean I gotta come up off– Man wait a minut– bruh–hold on! Treatin’ a nigga like a piece a meat right now” he wrestled with your hands moving up and down his chest. “Unhand me lady”

“Oh you comin’ up off somethin’ tonight” his own hand found his chest as well.

“Is that what this was the whole time?! Oh my Gosh!-- Stop that” he popped your hands that reached his jaw line. “I’m feeling very vulnerable.”

“Good”

“Good?!?” He watched you get out of the car and walk around the car opening his door. “Ain’t this bout a bitch. What is goin’ on?”

“Come on lil daddy” you unbuckled his seat belt and pulled him out the car. Tugging him towards the house. He stumbled a little. 

“This is crazy” he watched you quickly unlock the door to his apartment. “I can’t even get in the house that fast.” coming in and closing the door you started towards the back. 

“Cmon” you motioned with your head in the direction of the bedroom. 

“Mmm I think Imma stay in here actually” he watched you take off your skirt. “This is going pretty fast Oh my–Can we talk about this at least?” he tried to reason backing up as you approached him.  

“We been talking all night” his back hit the door. “Time to pay up” you smiled up at him pulling in his belt.

“This is alot–slow down! What is–I am somebody’s son! You can’t treat me like this!” his statement coming to an end as you pulled him to eye level. 

“Pull that dick out and quit allat yappin” you spoke squinting your eyes. 

Even with the suddenness of it all Aaron complied. “I never knew I was this easy..” he mumbled, unbuckling his belt. 

“Uhuh and hurry it up. Them three Margaritas should’ve kicked in by now.” 

•••

[luvmoody]

OOPS - T.S.

Theodore “Teddy” Spencer x oc (Leilani Mitchell faceclaim: Heather Harris)

Summary: Co-workers who have complicated history are tasked to complete a campaign for their advertising firm, the two try to push past those old feelings, but old habits die hard. This LOOSELY inspired off of the songs OOPS by Emmavie. i’ve linked it below yall should tap in!

a/n: this is my first fic ever! y’all im super excited to share with it! I hope you like it! Pushing for more tyriq in 2026!

content warnings: weed, n-word usage, arguments, will add more if necessary!

w/c: 5.6k (sorry y’all first one is a lengthy one)

“Alright everyone, it’s that time of the year again. New season, new campaign!” Todd, the head of the agency, announces to everyone in the conference room.

Leilani looks around to gauge the reaction of her co-workers. As she pans further to her left, a pair of bluish-green eyes is already on her. As the two make eye contact, the lightskinned boy smirks. His smirk is met with an eye roll as Leilani goes to focus on whatever Todd is going on about.  

“Teddy is the campaign coordinator for this client and project; he will be forming the main team and points of contact for each department,” Todd continues. “Now Teddy, please come up and brief everyone on the client’s vision and main members.” The room begins to clap for the man as he gets to the podium to begin the presentation. 

As Teddy goes through each slide, he finally lands on the creative team. “Leilani Mitchell” is displayed in a large font on the slide deck. The man stares at you, biting back a mischievous smile. 

“He really knows how to fuck with you,” your co-worker Tierra whispers to you. “Tell me about it; it’s whatever chile, let’s just get this over with,” Leilani says with a sigh.

“Everyone working on the summer campaign, stay behind. I would like to go more in-depth about the details of the ideas the client already has and what they want for the new campaign,” Teddy announces to the room. The other employees begin to filter out, leaving Leilani and Tierra, the head of the accounting department for this project, to find seats at the table in the middle of the room. 

“Hey, ‘Lani,” Teddy says with another smirk on his face. “Hello, Teddy,” Leilani says quietly. “Tierra,” Teddy says, feigning annoyance. “Boy, you better hurry up with this, and hello to you too." Tierra rolls her eyes. Teddy shakes his head and brings his focus back to finding the other slide deck for the upcoming meeting. 

Waiting for the meeting to start, Tierra and Leilani begin to talk about the events from the night before. “Girl, what happened to the one guy from the finance firm we collaborated with? It’s like he wanted to be in your skin.” “Oh, Sean? All we did when we parted ways was talk. We danced a little bit, and he drove me home. He has a kid anyway, and I am too young to be playing stepmommy," Leilani replied coolly with a breathy laugh. 

Unbeknownst to the young women, Teddy overheard the conversation. His body tensed up as a feeling of jealousy and sadness crept in. A twinge in the young man’s chest sat next to his heart. 

“Alright y’all, let’s get this meeting started,” Teddy says as he clears the tightness in his throat. Leilani instantly notices the shift in his demeanor and makes a mental note to talk to him about it later. 

Once the meeting was about over, Teddy scanned the room. Deliberately not making eye contact with Leilani. 

“Any questions?” Teddy says after the briefing. He looks around the room at his team members. Seeing none, he replies, “If you all need me, y’all know where my office is.”  

Later

Leilani goes to Teddy’s office to show him some of the mock-ups the creative team had already created. She left a few knocks on his door before he answered with a “come in.”

Opening the door, Leilani makes eye contact with the man and begins to speak, “Hey, I just wanted to show you the concepts we made.” Turning his eye contact away from the young woman and back to his computer screen, he sighs, “You can place it over on that side of the desk; I’ll look at it later.” Teddy cuts her off with the curt response. Leilani, slightly taken aback, replies, “Oh, well, I know you usually like to be walked through our creative process, so I thought we could do it now since I know how you like to chill before lunch.” “Well, things change. I have to finish going through some of these contracts. If I have any questions, I’ll send them to you through Slack.” Teddy states blankly. He still hadn’t made eye contact with Leilani since her initial entrance. 

Kissing her teeth, she responds. “When have you ever even used Slack for real? I thought you liked getting your questions answered and comments out face to face because it promotes “human connectivity,” as you like to call it.” “Since I have other important things to take care of.” The young man finally tears his eyes away from the screen with a stare she couldn’t recognize.

“Is this also not important? You just had us sitting in a meeting, telling us the earlier the better. Now you’re sitting here making some lame ass excuse because I know those contracts are already reviewed.” Leilani finally decides to let her attitude peek its head. 

Teddy just stares at her as a nasty comment is sitting on the tip of his tongue. Leilani continues, not caring if he responds, “I don’t know what changed with your attitude from this morning to now, but, nigga, you’re trippin. We have our tiffs, but we have never let it get in the way of our work.” “So when you figure out what is truly important, you let me know.” She begins to walk out of the tense office when the account manager lets something slip that he instantly regrets. 

“You fuckin’ on finance bros and you're saying my priorities are fucked up.” 

The statement surprises both of them. Leilani stops in her tracks. “What did you say?” Leilani questions, even though she heard every syllable. "I—" “Actually no, fuck that. If you have anything to say to me, Slack one of my assistants; I have my priorities fucked up for the rest of the day.” She walks out of his office, slamming the door. The regret is instant. The 6’5 man begins to sulk.

Over the next week, their once playful work relationship ceased to exist. It became one that only consisted of short updates and bland responses. If the questions didn’t have to be answered by her, they weren’t.

This wasn’t Teddy’s first time dealing with her silence. This time it just hurt more.

Leilani and Teddy had a history only a few in your workplace knew about. Being college sweethearts who turned sour, it was more to them than just a workplace rivalry.

“I ain’t seen Teddy this quiet at a team lunch, ever. I know we say he needs to shut up sometimes, but this is a little spooky.” Tierra says to Leilani as she looks at the menu. Leilani simply shrugs and continues contemplating what to order, not caring about the man’s actions. 

“Dang, Leilani, no witty remarks? I am starting to think he did something to you to cause a shift in both of y’all.” Leilani instantly freezes. Chuckling, Tierra says, “I guess I cracked the code. You know you have to tell me everything after this.” Just as Leilani begins to respond, Teddy rises from his seat at the end of the table to begin addressing the group. 

“I want to thank you all so much for the work we’ve managed to start so far; our clients are already excited to see more from us as we get closer to the campaign’s start date. I also want to thank you all for putting up with my foolishness. I would not want a better team.” Teddy looks around and catches Leilani’s eye in the process. He finishes his short speech with a “Cheers, everyone," and the group applauds as he sits down. “Aw, wait, why did I get a little teary-eyed?” Tierra says, and the table erupts in quiet laughter. Shortly after the interaction, the table goes back to their individual conversations. 

“So are we not going to act like Teddy wasn’t staring into your soul damn near the whole time he was speaking to us?” “Whatever, it’s going to take a whole lot more than him staring to undo what he did.” The two women continue to talk and eat the food they ordered for lunch.

The Next Day

Leilani is in her office getting work done when she gets a knock on her office door. Not taking her focus away from her work, as she was expecting it to be Tierra, she responds, “Girl, it’s open! I know you’re mad that casa girl has your name.” She continues while laughing, “You know I’m gonna call you Titi from now on too.” “You already call me that, though.” Leilani instantly freezes as the deep voice that responds is definitely not Tierra. 

“My personal favorites are Bear and Big Ass Light Bright, though.” Teddy finally says, chuckling. Leilani slowly turns around to see the 6’5 man currently in her office. The man was sporting a sweatshirt from his fraternity. She couldn’t lie even if she wanted to; he looked good, handsome even. “Boy, anyway, what do you need?”

“Okay, two things. One, we have a meeting with the client at 3 pm tomorrow to finalize the creative direction for the campaign.” “You couldn’t have texted me this on Slack, since you love it so much?” Leilani sarcastically responds. “I definitely could have, but since I know you and Tierra get ready to have your girls’ talk time, I didn’t think you would want to hear a Slack notification on your break.” “Nigga, what’s the second thing?” Teddy decides to move closer to her desk as he clears his throat and takes a plastic grocery bag from behind his back. “Here.” Still at a safe distance, being mindful not to crowd her space, he holds the bag out to her. Leilani carefully takes the bag to inspect what’s inside. Her eyes widen, “No way!” Suddenly nervous, Teddy goes on to say, “My Auntie Nita was in a dessert-making mood yesterday, and she made her famous brownies and some of those brown butter cookies. So I asked if it was possible to make her—"Biscoff banana pudding.” The pair says in unison. 

The suddenly shy man rubs the back of his neck as he watches her look at the dessert in awe. “You know she asked about you when I asked her about making it.” “Auntie Nita, That’s my girl! I need to call her; we were supposed to go to the bingo hall together.” “Theo, thank you for this, though, like seriously!” Teddy just watches with a soft smile as she gets up from her desk chair to put her beloved dessert in the mini fridge. 

“You called me Theo,” Teddy says as a smirk finds purchase on his face. As the smirk grows alongside a knowing look, her smile instantly disappears, and embarrassment takes its place.

“It was the pudding; don’t let it go to your head, lil nigga.” Leilani says as she turns toward the boy. Teddy does a once-over of Leilani’s figure. “I missed hearing you say it.” His voice did not have an inch of teasing in it. Just pure softness and honesty. The pair has moved closer to each other now. “You look great in your red, by the way.” Looking down at her sorority sweatshirt and quickly looks back up at him. The sudden vibe shift catches Leilani off guard; fortunately, she quickly recovers. "Uh—thanks, Teddy. You look nice in your black and gold.”

Before Teddy could say anything else, Tierra finally showed up. Leilani released a sigh she didn’t realize she was holding. “Sorry, girl! One of the other clients was trying to go back and forth about their campaign budget,” Tierra says, sounding slightly out of breath. "Oh—am I interrupting something?” “Hey, Tierra!” “No! He was just leaving.” The pair standing before her was separating from each other, saying conflicting things. “Okay, Teddy! Tell Auntie Nita I'll call her. Thank you again.” Leilani gets out as she pushes the boy out of her office.

She closes the door with an accidental slam. “How does Teddy of all people have you frazzled like this? Yeah, you say you’re over it. But I think you’re too far gone, sister.” Tierra tells her friend as she looks down at her phone, preparing to order her lunch. 

As the day winds down and many have gone home for the day, Leilani stays back to finish the last of the pitch deck for the meeting tomorrow. As Teddy is heading out with his belongings, he sees her through the cracked door leading to her office. Teddy automatically softens at her concentrated state. He makes a detour to her office to check on her.

“Damn, you still here?” He says as he makes his way to her. “Preparing for the meeting tomorrow.” “Plus, my nephew is staying with me tonight, so I am trying to pass the time before I gotta go pick him up.” “Oh shit, KaiKai’s coming over? What is he now, 9?” “Yeah, and he won’t let anyone forget it.” The two adults laugh at the fond memories of the young boy. “Is he still playing basketball? I need to go to one of his games.” “Yeah, he had one a couple of weeks ago, and he told me he wanted Uncle Teddy to be there to see his 3-pointer.” “But since I had my priorities so fucked up, the invite slipped my mind.”

The argument the two had played in his mind countless times since it happened. Knowing that his jealousy had poisoned even the most innocent made him feel even worse. “Tell him I won’t make that mistake again; I won’t miss a game or practice if he wants me there.” Teddy is looking into Leilani’s eyes with one of the sincerest expressions she’s seen from him.  

Leilani just sighs and shakes her head. “Will do.” She says simply, going back to inserting each picture and summary into the deck. Before Teddy could sense a mood shift from the girl in front of him, he said, “Also, please tell his Aunt Lani that no matter if I talk or interact with her, no matter how frustrating it gets with us, that I still and will always care deeply for her.” Leilani slowly takes her brown eyes from the screen and connects with his bluish ones. The few seconds long stare-off ends when Teddy reluctantly tears his eyes away from Leilani and heads to his car to go back to his apartment. Left to her own thoughts, she looks at the time and starts slowly gathering her belongings to pick up her nephew. 

Later That Night

Around 1 am the next day, the 28-year-old man is up scrolling on his phone, with random videos on TikTok trying to catch his attention. During his doom scroll, he sees a TikTok reposted by Leilani only 5 mins prior. He smiles to himself as he watches the hope core video that she commented, “me btw”, on. He likes the video and her individual repost to let her know he saw it. He wanted to let her know that he saw her. 

Back at her place, Leilani sits on her balcony with her bonnet on, her designated hoodie for nights like this, and a cute pink joint she saved from a previous session. Her nephew, Kai, had already been fast asleep; her mind and her body wouldn’t let her be great.

As the smoke fills her lungs, the notification comes to her phone: tspence liked your repost. Something took over her to press the notification quicker than necessary. Something tells her to go a step further and like one of his original posts. Seeing his various gym thirst pics and mirror selfies from a night out. She doesn’t know if it’s the weed or the slight breeze outside, but she double-taps the screen. Then taking a long drag from the jay to calm her nerves. Before she puts her phone down to enjoy the view, she receives another ding from her phone. 

Teddy took that as an invite and jumped out of bed, putting something on quickly to get to her apartment as fast as possible. Unabashedly memorizing the shortcuts due to their post-work rendezvous. 

Leilani hears a soft knock on her front door, putting her half-smoked joint in the tray so as not to track the smell into her place. She opens the door to the 6'5" boy now in a much more relaxed outfit than what she saw him in at their job. Hair covered by a black durag that he covered with his favorite camouflage hat, a solid black hoodie, grey sweatpants, and some Crocs. Her eyes crawl up his figure until their eyes meet.

“15 minutes, a personal record,” Leilani says, smirking. “I don’t know, the roads were extra clear tonight.” “Plus, who wants to keep the jay waiting?” Teddy says, trying to sound nonchalant as he walks into the familiar apartment. 

Leilani closes the door softly, careful not to wake up her nephew, who is sleeping in the guest room close by. “I’m out on the balcony,” Leilani directs the boy, who saunters over to the kitchen. “Bet, let me get some plates, and I will meet you out there.

“Boy, plates for wh—" she finally realizes he’s been holding a bag of food. Leilani looks at the bag, then at him, finally taking in the side effects of this new strain her plug had given her. “You know I never come empty-handed,” Teddy says with a smirk. A deep eye roll and a suppressed smile come from Leilani, and she turns away, making her way outside to the balcony, leaving Teddy with his own thoughts.

A few minutes later, the boy slides the glass door open to meet her. “I made sure your fries were fresh; I promise,” Teddy says as he lowers the plate to her as she is reading something on social media.

She looks up, takes the plate of fries and chicken nuggets, her favorite meal to cure the munchies, and mutters a thank you. Before she begins to eat, she speaks up and says, “It’s in the ashtray whenever you’re ready.” "Bet—aww, wait, you’re using the papers I got you.” “Don’t flatter yourself; I ran out of my other ones.” “Sure, ‘Lani.”

Teddy sits down on the outdoor couch next to Leilani. As soon as his back touches the cushion, he slouches into the couch. The many thoughts of their complicated relationship history and the situation from the past two weeks swirl around his head.

He moves to grab the pink joint, bringing it to his lips, grabbing the lighter, and sparking it. He takes a deep inhale, and it instantly calms his nerves. “Damn, ‘Lani, what kind of strain you got?" “I know, right? It’s almost too good.” They both chuckle together as Teddy takes another puff. 

Handing her the joint, he slides a little deeper into his side of the couch. “Nah, whatever strain it is, tell your plug I need some of that.” Leilani looks over the boy’s slouched figure, eating his burger and fries.

She couldn’t help but laugh as the memories of their time during college flooded her mind. She’s reminded of the time they both took their first edible, their young, giggly selves in their own world. Quickly getting back to the present, Leilani says, “Boy, sit up; you’re letting the weed win.” “At this point, I’m going to just let it; I feel so good right now.” Leilani laughs again; this time you can tell she’s even more comfortable than before. 

“Your laugh is so pretty, ‘Lani. It always has been.” The comment catches her off guard. “Remember when I used to tell you that all the time? I want to tell you more often, especially now, but I know I fucked up.”

"Teddy—" “Nah, let me get this off; I don’t know when I will get to do this again.” Teddy slowly sits and turns slightly to the girl, making eye contact with her before tearing his eyes away. He watches from the corner of his eye as Leilani takes a deep inhale from the blunt before he continues. “Your priorities aren’t and have never been fucked up. I was just saying shit because I was jealous.”

“Jealous of what exactly?” Leilani furrows her brows as she begins to realize where the animosity that has been a part of their last two weeks has stemmed from, and she begins to grow frustrated. “You questioned my priorities over a nigga you thought I was fucking with, Teddy? Are you fucking serious right now? I go out for drinks with a nigga one time, and now you’re questioning my morals.” Her anger starts to take over, but the weed is strong enough to keep it at bay. 

“I know it was stupid; I felt bad as soon as I said it. My feelings got in the way, and I apologize.” “You said this thing we had was gonna be no feelings involved, no strings attached.” “And they weren’t at first. But then I think it was the first time we worked together on that artist’s campaign last year, seeing you up close and personal like that, something shifted.” Teddy, still looking into the skyline, lets his words settle in the stiff air. 

“Theodore, look at me,” Leilani says as calmly as she can. Hearing his government name instantly makes his ears and cheeks turn red. He slowly turns his head to make eye contact with the girl who called his name.

“‘Lani, I’m sorry; I genuinely thought I could do the friends with benefits thing; I really did. I thought since time had gone by, that I would have been able to handle it, but then we started doing the domestic shit. Remember when we went to like 3 different Costcos to get the muffins you like? Or when you picked me up from getting my wisdom teeth removed?” Leilani laughs at the memories they made during their year-long arrangement.

“Yeah, I remember,” she softly says. He smiles at her response and begins again, “Going to Kai’s basketball games, picking the best strawberries, and other mundane tasks. It didn’t matter what it was, as long as we did it together.” “When I got just to annoy you at work, anytime I was able to get close to you, I took it. You are a safe and happy place for me.”

“I flew too close to the sun with this thing we have going on, and I ended up burning us both. I repeated the same cycle that broke us up in the first place.” Another anxious silence takes over the two. “Teddy, you hurt me so bad that day; do you know that?” Leilani explained as her emotions were starting to build.

“The fact that just because I could potentially be involved with a nigga other than you, has you insinuating things about me when you know how I move, Teddy?” “I know exactly how you are, Leilani.” “Then you would’ve known that I didn’t even want to be there; I did it for Tierra. Since you were being nosy, did you not hear me tell her in that same room that I didn’t want anything with him anyway?” "I—" “You don’t even have to say it; I already know you didn’t.” 

“Sean is a great guy, but he’s not you, Teddy.” He looks up from playing with the hem of his hoodie to look at her. “Do you know how many times I tried not to go out on that outing with her?” “I gave damn near every good excuse, but nothing worked, so I went.”

Leilani begins to laugh at herself before uttering, “And that whole time all I could think of was you and whatever you were doing. I thought about you and the stupid gifs you sent me while I was out; what corny joke you were going to tell me when we got to the office the next day, and if you wanted to get a sweet treat after work. I think about you all the time, Theo. Even more than I did back in college. I try to be so stoic all the time to not get hurt again, and it never works because no matter how much I get older, that love I felt for you will always feel like the first time.” 

Teddy’s eyes widened at the confession. Both of his hands ran down his face as the revelation hit him like a ton of bricks. This girl who had had his heart since the fall semester of their freshman year of college still felt the same way. And he fucked it up again. “‘Lani, baby—" “Please don’t baby me right now,” Leilani said with a harsh sigh. “The fact that I feel so stupid but still have so much love for you in this moment is fucking me up. You cut me so deep, Teddy. I left work early because I couldn’t stop crying over your stupid ass and your stupid ass comment. That’s how you treat someone you love, Teddy, and you know that. I need to go before you fuck up any more of the high that I have left.” Leilani stands up as she tries to go back inside. 

His hands went to hers as she moved to get off the couch. “‘Lani, please, please wait and listen to me, alright?" Teddy breathed as he grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap. “Look at me, baby, please. Just for a minute.” Leilani, still fighting an internal battle, finally looked up at the boy who held her. Her eyes held tears that were threatening to spill at any moment. 

Staring at each other, the couple sat in silence. The weed was long forgotten as their high had come and gone like waves. 

“Leilani, you can hate me forever, and I will have to accept it. I understand how much I hurt you, and I am so deeply sorry. You are someone I need in my life until I wither away. I love you so damn much, Leilani Janae Mitchell. My jealousy and immaturity got the best of me, and you never deserved that. I know words can only hold so much, but I am so serious about this, about you, and about us. I am willing to do everything in my power to show you that this will never happen again. I promise.” Tears fall down the boy’s cheek as he pours his heart out to the girl who has been the love of his life since he was 19 years old. 

Seeing him cry opens the floodgates for Leilani’s tears to slowly escape as well. He goes to wipe them off her cheeks, making his heart break even more. Knowing he caused every single tear, frown, and negative thought put a battery in his back. He knew that he had to show her better than he could ever tell her, and he made it his mission to prove to her that he would never make a mistake like this ever again.

He continued to pull her close as they held each other. Her face was in his neck as her tears slowly subsided. Teddy rubbed her back in small circles and periodically kissed her cheek and temple, muttering, “I’m sorry,” and “I love you,” as the high emotions subsided. Noticing her breathing, the boy slowly realized Leilani had fallen asleep. 

“I love you, ‘Lani, my big baby.” He coos softly as he makes sure the joint is fully out before slowly getting up to head back inside. Moving carefully so as not to wake her. He makes the familiar trek to her bedroom and slowly lays her down. As he is about to get up to head to his own bed, she grabs a piece of his shirt. This action stops him in his tracks. 

“Theo, don’t leave me, please.” She says sleepily. 

Teddy instantly stops himself, stunned by what’s happening; he stands still for a moment. Looking down at his shirt, then back at the girl in front of him. 

“‘Lani, are you sure? I can go; my high has worn off, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Teddy said right above a whisper. 

“I really don’t want to be alone tonight,” Leilani said in such a way that felt bare and stripped down. An emotion she doesn’t show to just anyone.

“Okay, let me just clean up everything outside, and I will be right back. Okay?” 

“You promise, Theo?” 

“Yes, baby, I promise.” 

Leilani lets go of his shirt, and he takes the chance to lean over and press soft kisses to her cheek as she begins to wait for his return. As he makes his way outside, he picks up their belongings and the plates they left outside. Trying to be quick to not make the girl wait too much longer. 

Walking back into her room silently, he closes the door softly, making sure not to disturb her as she lies comfortably. He quietly gets into bed, feeling the soft linens consume his body and the silk pillowcases resting at the back of his head. 

“You came back," Leilani yawned. She moved to be closer to Teddy, putting her arms around him and laying her head on his chest.

“Of course I did. I’m never leaving you again.” Teddy whispered, reaffirming it to her and to himself. He kissed the top of her head, currently covered in a bonnet, and wrapped his arms around her, securing her to his side. 

Leilani softly hummed in response as she drifted to sleep. 

The Next Morning

Teddy woke up before her, or so he thought. The two were tangled in each other as the sun peeked through her curtains. He let out a sigh that expressed his contentment with his current situation. He knew there was a conversation about what they were going to do next, but he wanted to enjoy the present and not mess up the future by worrying about it. 

“What are you up there sighing about?” Leilani says. This sudden sentence frightens the boy, as he thought he was alone in his thoughts. 

“‘Lani, damn you know you can’t scare me like that. You were about to take me out of the game with a hard attack.” The pair laughed silently together.

“What were you sighing about? You okay?” The girl asked.

“You.” The boy didn't give the answer much thought, as it was the truth and he didn’t feel the need to hide it. Not anymore. 

Leilani slowly rose from his chest and turned in his arms, facing him. She then sat up, now straddling him as he was still lying down in her bed. 

“Boy, anyway—" 

"Nah, ‘Lani, I’m so for real about us. I love you so much. I told you that last night. So of course you are going to be the first person I think about when I wake up.” The sincerity in his whole being is radiating off of him, and she cannot help but notice. 

She moves down close to his face and kisses him deeply. Her emotions are on display from this action, more than words could ever say. He smiles as they continue kissing; he knows she feels the same way even if she doesn’t say it to him now. He will wait for as long as he has to until she is ready. 

The couple are in their own world, small pecks and caresses shared between them. Maybe a lil too deep.

“Auntie Lani!” She hears her nephew say as he busts into her room. She quickly gets off of Teddy, but it’s too late, as the young boy has already seen them. “Wait, Uncle Teddy, when did you get here?” The older ones look at each other, trying to make something up quickly.

“Uhm, I teleported. I told you I am a superhero!” Teddy tells the boy, trying to sound convincing.

Kai gives him a blank stare, replying, “Uncle Teddy, I am 9 now; you cannot convince me you are a superhero anymore.” Leilani fails to keep it together as she laughs at the interaction. 

“Baby, I thought you were on my side?” Teddy whines. 

“Wait, did you call my auntie 'baby,' like how my momma and daddy do?” Kai begins 

"Wait—" Leilani says

“Daddy owes me and Mommy 20 dollars! By the way, if we don’t get ready in an hour, I will be late for school.” Kai jumps off of his aunt’s bed and runs back into the guest room. Leilani and Teddy watch wordlessly and then turn to each other.

“Bro, they really made a bet on us,” Leilani whined into the boy’s chest, trying to hide from the world. Teddy can’t help but laugh at her reaction. 

“I look at it as supporting from the sideline.” Teddy hummed. He drew circles in her back to soothe her anxiety. 

“Come on, 'Lani, baby, we've got to get up before we’re late to work and Kai’s late to school,” Teddy announced. “Plus whoever gets to work first has to buy the other one breakfast.” 

Leilani sat up quickly as her competitive nature kicked in. She playfully rolled her eyes and began to get off the boy. Before she could fully get off of him, she felt a tap on the soft part of her butt, catching her off guard. 

“I hate you!” Leilani says through her giggles as she runs to her bathroom to get a head start. She was not going to buy that nigga any breakfast if she had a say.

“I love you too!” Teddy says as he slowly gets out of bed, knowing he was going to let her win anyway. 

FIN

taglist: @remdolll @tyquilabae @rejithink @witherswife @sofia-da-1st @slayymyowndragons @loveresss @lunarexperttrace @diorforever @bbluemuffinnn @blckblossom @ctrlmimi @petersgirlfrnd

let me know you want to be added or removed*

[moodymp4]

my first fic is outtttt ahhhh i hope yall like it 🫶🏾

[moodymp4]

A few hours out from posting my first fic on my writblr @luvmoody page! if you haven’t already lmk if yall wanna be on the taglist 😝.

[luvmoody]

OOPS - a moodboard

coming soon

taglist?

[moodymp4]

gotta get loud on the creek rq hollon

[notgaybuckybarnes]

CHARLES MELTON Photographed by Luke Gilford for GQ UK

[kynswrldd]

(professional tennis player!teddy spencer x upcoming tennis player!black female reader)

⋆˚꩜｡ authors note: heey yall! i hope yall enjoy this. sorry for being inactive on the writing 😭, give me feedback & if yall like it ill drop chapter two when yall want it (it’s already written 🧍🏿‍♀️). - k 💋

⋆˚꩜｡ contains: coach james showing reader around the facility. teddy being a little cocky with his high-yellow self 😒. but ofc reader ain’t falling for his bs… yet 🤭

⋆˚꩜｡ enemies to lovers trope 🌚, 90% proof read 🧍🏿‍♀️

⋆˚꩜｡ word count: 2,650 :)

🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾

🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾

◎◎◎◎

​🇬​​🇦​​🇲​​🇪​, ​🇸​​🇪​​🇹​, ​🇲​​🇦​​🇹​​🇨​​🇭​⦂ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝓅𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝐵𝑒𝓉𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒰𝓈

Monday • 5:32 A.M. Los Angeles Tennis Center Los Angeles, California

The California sun hadn’t fully climbed over the hills yet, but the Los Angeles Tennis Center was already awake.

The rhythmic pop of tennis balls echoed across twenty-three immaculate courts, blending with the squeak of sneakers against hard court, the hum of ball machines, and the occasional whistle cutting through the crisp morning air. Coaches barked instructions from behind the baselines while athletic trainers rolled carts stacked with resistance bands, coolers, and foam rollers toward the performance building. Somewhere inside, the scent of fresh coffee drifted through the open lobby as players wandered in with racket bags slung over their shoulders, preparing for another day.

For the athletes who trained here, this wasn’t luxury. It was routine. The world’s best didn’t come here to be comfortable. They came here to win.

Coach James Wright stood on the second-floor balcony overlooking the outdoor courts, a clipboard tucked beneath one arm as he scanned the day’s training schedule. Reading glasses rested low on his nose, though he barely looked through them anymore. After nearly two decades of coaching some of the biggest names in professional tennis, he knew exactly where every player was supposed to be before the ink even dried on the schedule.

A familiar sound cracked through the morning air.

THWACK.

Another serve.

THWACK.

James didn’t have to look toward Court One to know who it was.

“You’re late,” he called, not bothering to raise his voice.

The serving stopped as a tall figure stepped around the baseline, racket spinning lazily in one hand.

“I’ve been here since five.” James finally looked up. Theodore Spencer: Twenty-seven years old, World No. 8, and America’s golden boy.

At six-foot-five, Teddy carried the kind of presence that made people notice him before he ever opened his mouth. Broad shoulders built from years of Division I football filled out his fitted training shirt, while sandy-brown curls, damp with sweat, escaped beneath a backwards white Nike cap.

A few loose strands rested against his forehead, and the California sun caught the sheen of sweat along his neck and forearms—evidence of yet another morning that had started long before everyone else’s.

Coach James knew a good serve when he saw it. “You call those serves?” James asked. A crooked grin tugged at Teddy’s mouth, “I call them aces.”

James snorted. “You would’ve missed three returns against Sinner.”

“I wasn’t playing Sinner.”

“No,” James replied evenly. “You’re playing yourself. Even worse.” The grin disappeared. Good, James preferred him focused and humbled.

Without another word, Teddy returned to the baseline. He bounced the tennis ball three times against the hard court.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

His shoulders relaxed as the routine settled into instinct. He tossed the ball high into the California sky.

THWACK.

The serve kissed the sideline before exploding into the back fence, much better. James scribbled a quick note onto his clipboard before movement near the front entrance caught his attention.

A silver BMW rolled through the security gates and came to a smooth stop outside the main performance building. Right on time. He closed the clipboard with a quiet snap. “Finally.”

You stared through the windshield for a second longer than necessary. The silver lettering stretched across the entrance.

LOS ANGELES TENNIS CENTER

A few months ago, seeing those four words would’ve made you cry. Now… your stomach felt like it was trying to climb into your throat.

Your agent called it the opportunity of a lifetime and ESPN called you the newest American breakout player. Social media had already started throwing around phrases like future Grand Slam champion and the next face of women’s tennis.

You called it… Fucking terrifying. The engine fell silent.

You reached for the rearview mirror out of habit, giving yourself one last once-over. Your knotless bohemian braids had survived the flight from Miami surprisingly well.

A few loose curls framed your face beneath a black Nike visor, your edges still perfectly laid despite traveling across the country. Soft orange blush warmed your cheeks, matching the accents on your training set, while your fresh acrylic nails—short enough for competition but still detailed with tiny chrome designs—wrapped comfortably around the handle of your racket bag.

If you were about to embarrass yourself… at least you’d look good doing it.

Girl… get it together. You’ve played in front of thousands of people. This is just practice. Except… It wasn’t.

This was where Grand Slam champions trained, Olympic medalists, even World No. 1s.

Players whose posters had once covered your bedroom wall… One poster in particular.

You pushed the thought away before climbing out of the BMW, slinging your racket bag over one shoulder.

The California air felt different from Miami’s humid mornings. It carried the scent of sunscreen, freshly cut grass, and hard-court acrylic already beginning to warm beneath the rising sun. Outdoor courts stretched farther than you could count. Clay courts glowed a rich burnt orange in the distance while a glass-walled gym overlooked nearly every practice court on the property.

Players moved from building to building with the quiet confidence of people who’d spent years belonging here. Nobody stared. Nobody whispered. Nobody cared who you were. Here… everyone was elite. You just weren’t sure you belonged yet.

“Welcome to L.A.”

The voice pulled you from your thoughts.

Coach James Wright descended the front steps with an easy smile, extending his hand before you even had the chance to introduce yourself.

“I’ve been looking forward to this.”

You returned the handshake with a smile, “Thank you for having me.”

“No,” he corrected with a smile. “Thank yourself. You earned it.” Some of the tension in your chest eased. Just enough for you to finally breathe.

“Come on,” James said, effortlessly lifting one of your bags before you could protest. “Let’s get you settled.”

You fell into step beside him, taking in every inch of the facility as you passed through the gates. Courts buzzed with early morning practices while trainers hurried between buildings carrying clipboards and coolers.

Somewhere nearby, another ball machine whirred to life. Across the complex, on Court One, a pair of greenish-blue eyes lifted from the opposite baseline.

Who’s that?

Teddy caught only a glimpse. A new player must be.

Long bohemian braids swayed against the back of a black training jacket as she walked beside James, her racket bag hanging effortlessly from one shoulder.

Another prospect.

He looked away before you ever turned around. Doesn’t matter. I’ve got enough on my plate.

He bounced another tennis ball against the court.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

The toss felt perfect. The swing felt clean. Yet somehow…

TWANG.

The serve slammed straight into the net.

Coach James led you through the heart of the Los Angeles Tennis Center at an unhurried pace, offering a nod or greeting every few feet as players and staff passed by.

“Morning, Coach.”

“See you at twelve.”

“Need anything from the equipment room?”

He answered everyone by name.

You noticed that immediately. There wasn’t an ounce of intimidation in the way people approached him. Respect, absolutely. But it was the kind that had been earned over years—not demanded.

“I know this place looks overwhelming,” James said, glancing over his shoulder. “Give it two weeks.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Two weeks?” you said looking around at the atmosphere.

“You’ll know where everything is before I do.”

A laugh slipped out before you could stop it, “I seriously doubt that I’m terrible with remembering things at times.”

“So did everyone else.” He pushed open a set of glass doors leading into the main performance building. Cool air rushed over your skin as the sounds of tennis softened behind you.

The lobby was sleek without feeling cold. Framed photographs lined one wall—Grand Slam champions, Olympic medalists, Davis Cup teams—all frozen in moments of triumph. Beneath each photo sat a small engraved plaque with the player’s name and the year they’d trained under Coach James.

Your eyes lingered on a few familiar faces. Some of the greatest players to ever pick up a racket had walked these same halls. Don’t think about that. You’ll psych yourself out.

James noticed where you were looking. “They’re reminders,” he said. “Not expectations.”

You looked at him. “A lot of people come in here thinking they have to live up to everyone on that wall. Wrong mindset.”

“What should it be?”

He smiled, “Be better than you were yesterday.” Simple enough, right?

It sounded exactly like something your dad would’ve said. You nodded to yourself, quietly committing the words to memory.

They continued down a long hallway, passing an open film room where half a dozen players sat silently watching match footage projected across a massive screen. One coach paused the video, rewound a point, then replayed it from three different angles while players scribbled notes into worn notebooks.

“No phones in there during review sessions,” James explained. “You’re here to learn, not scroll on Tiktak.”

You grinned, “Noted.”

The next stop was the recovery wing. Rows of compression boots lined one wall while ice baths sat tucked into tiled alcoves nearby. Athletic trainers moved efficiently between treatment tables, wrapping ankles, stretching hamstrings, checking shoulders, and talking quietly with players about soreness before tomorrow’s sessions.

“You’ll spend almost as much time recovering as you do practicing,” James said. “The younger players usually hate hearing that.”

“I don’t.” You shrugged as you eyed the trainers and equipment.

He glanced at you with his bushy eyebrows raised, “No?”

“My dad used to say recovery was part of training.” James chuckled.

“I think your father and I would’ve gotten along, sounds like a great man.”

The hallway opened into an expansive gym overlooking nearly every outdoor practice court. Floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the space with morning sunlight, revealing rows of squat racks, cable machines, assault bikes, sleds, and Olympic lifting platforms.

Several players were already finishing strength sessions. One woman deadlifted what looked like twice your bodyweight while another balanced on a BOSU ball catching medicine balls from her trainer.

Nobody looked around. Nobody cared who had just walked in. Everyone was too busy becoming better than they had been yesterday.

“I like that,” you murmured.

“What?”

“No one’s trying to impress anybody.”

James folded his arms. “Hell they’re all too busy trying to impress themselves.” The sentence settled somewhere deep in your chest.

Mhm… I think i’ll like it here. As you exited the gym, the unmistakable scent of fresh fruit drifted down the corridor. The smoothie bar.

It buzzed with quiet conversation. Blenders roared behind the counter while players crowded around high-top tables between sessions, protein shakes and breakfast wraps scattered across tabletops beside notebooks and water bottles. It looked more like a trendy café than part of one of the most elite tennis facilities in the country.

“You’ll probably end up living here,” James said.

You laughed, “I practically survived college on smoothies and ramen noodles honestly.”

“Good. Save the cashier the trouble of learning another complicated order.”

“I don’t have a complicated order.”

James gave you a look. “I’ve coached long enough to know that’s never true.” A smile tugged at your lips.

Maybe this place wasn’t going to be as intimidating as you’d convinced yourself.

Outside, another sharp crack echoed through the open doors.

THWACK!

Then another.

THWACK!

You looked toward the outdoor courts almost instinctively. “Who’s still practicing?”

James didn’t even have to check. “Oh that’s probably Teddy.”

The name landed with surprising familiarity. Of course it did.

You’d heard commentators say it for years. You’d watched highlight reels after your own matches in college. You’d watched him win ATP titles from your dorm room at the University of Miami.

Your dad had even paused one of Teddy’s matches once just to point at the television.

“Watch how patient he is before he attacks the point.” You remembered rolling your eyes.

“Dad… I know.”

Now… He was somewhere beyond those doors. Close enough that you could hear every serve.

James noticed your expression “You know who he is?” You scoffed softly as your eyes briefly rolled “I think everybody knows who Teddy Spencer is.”

“Probably. That’s why his head s’big now.” You both chuckled.

Another serve cracked through the air.

CRACK!

Then another.

THWACK!

Then silence.

James glanced at the watch around his wrist. “Looks like he’s finally finished.”

Almost on cue, the locker room door at the opposite end of the hallway swung open.

The deep rumble of laughter carried through the corridor before a few members of the men’s training group filtered inside, talking over one another as they grabbed water bottles from a nearby cooler.

“You hear James brought somebody new in?”

“Yeah.”

“Women’s side.”

“Supposedly she legit.”

“We’ll see.”

Behind them, Teddy Spencer emerged with a towel draped around his shoulders, absently rubbing it across the back of his neck as damp curls escaped beneath his backwards cap. His fitted white training shirt clung to his broad frame after nearly three hours on court, veins still visible along his forearms as he tucked his racket beneath one arm.

He barely looked up. “S’coach around?”

James sighed dramatically as he rubbed over his salt and pepper colored beard. “Unfortunately, i’m still here.”

Teddy’s voice carried just enough for James to hear, “Guess practice ain’t over then.”

James smirked, “Not even close.” Your brown eyes flickered in his direction, but couldn’t see him yet.

A concrete support column stood between you and the hallway where the men’s group had gathered.

But you recognized the voice immediately, Lower than you’d expected— calm and confident.

James motioned for you to follow, “Come on.” He started to walk as his shoes lightly squeaked. You adjusted the strap of your racket bag before stepping after him.

And in just a few more seconds… You were finally going to meet Theodore Spencer.

You adjusted the strap of your racket bag as you followed Coach James farther down the hallway. The chatter from the smoothie bar gradually faded behind you, replaced by the familiar squeak of sneakers against polished concrete, the distant whir of a racket-stringing machine, and the low murmur of conversations spilling out of nearby locker rooms. Every few steps another player passed, offering James an easy nod or greeting before disappearing toward recovery or the weight room.

“You’ll get to know everybody eventually,” James said. “Some faster than others.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” You replied.

“You should.” He replied.

The hallway widened into a corridor lined with framed tournament posters, each commemorating a Grand Slam champion who had trained under James at one point in their career. Your eyes drifted over the names instinctively, but your attention was stolen almost immediately by voices carrying from somewhere around the corner.

“…I’m just saying, if we’re doing sprints again tomorrow, I’m calling OSHA.” A chorus of laughter bounced off the walls.

“You’re soft.”

“Says the one who almost threw up after ladders.”

“Chill I had food poisoning that day.”

“You had two protein shakes.”

Another round of laughter echoed through the corridor. As you rounded the corner behind him, the source of the commotion finally came into view.

Four men stood clustered outside the locker room, each dressed in some variation of Nike training gear with towels slung around their necks and rackets balanced casually against their shoulders. They looked like they’d stepped straight out of an ATP campaign—tall, athletic, exhausted from practice, yet somehow polished enough to end up on magazine covers before lunchtime.

One of them spotted James first, “There he is.”

Another groaned dramatically. “Coach, tell Teddy we’re done for the day.”

James folded his arms. “Teddy… are you done for the day?” A dry voice answered without hesitation, “Man hell no.”

“Then there’s your answer.” James shrugged.

The group laughed while one player shook his head. “Man, you make the rest of us look bad.”

“That’s because y’all are bad, sorry asses.” the same deep voice teased before laughing.

Your eyes followed it before your brain had the chance to stop them. Teddy Spencer in the flesh. Boy was he a sight to see…

[neighbourscat]

天空の、神々しい ⛐ ᩙᮬ ⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀㆑ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍. ⟩ 𝖒𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖞 intertwined with. ▷ 𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓮-𝗰𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗲 creed sister!blackfemreader . . . it’s complicated guys. so very complicated. but cameron hopes that after tonight, after you’ve seen the somewhat great effort shown, you’ll fallllllllll back into his lap and you’ll let him hold you as you were meant to be held. because yes! now he really wants to hold you. the cold that once froze over his heart is no more. you could thank your pussy for that. # in my shonda rhimes bag too cause she raised me. here, cameron tries a little tenderness . . . but many a tear has to fall. cause it’s all in the game. all in the wonderful game . . . as we know as love. -tommy edwards.

kitti’s gotta warn ya 𖾕𖾝꙼ᩚ𛲕𖾟 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁. // ‎ꫂ᭪݁ you can’t run. not from cammie cam ¡ ⋆༝༚༝༚ pretty-strong-۫language ⚞^. .^⚟ .. it’s been a harsh four nights, but cam’s determined & ༘⋆ you’re . . . on edge ! cam’s still a cheater ! ৻ꪆ reader’s realised she might actually be just a little trinket! awwwwwh babes )-: you’re so scared!! unequal emotions. three lives are being affected. ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ cameron ˙ᵕ˙ may want a family. 𐔌 a little munchkin! ˗ˏˋ with you! & h.e’s not even dedicated to his future wife. men! am i rite, l.adies?¿ .! “. first rough patch )-: it’s super early, so you know it’s real — he genuinely thinks he’s saying the right thing.

ᦵ .݂ ֯ 𓇮 𝖙𝓱𝓮 cannon did not want children. that’s what he’s told every journalist, every super supporter in his comment section, and mama cade; he did not see himself producing offspring with his beautiful fianceé. ysabelle cade was okay with that, for she too did not want any mini version. children are fragile and loud and expensive and cameron cade’s pretty selfish. but there was an odd, impossible to ignore, twinge at the centre of his gut that had invaded the moment he laid his eyes on you . . . again, cuddled beside the mini creed-taylor.

it’d been only four nights since the celebration . . . and you dreaded the idea of facing life around cameron after that rendezvous. you were gonna say it. that word, and he knew. he’s worked it all over in his head and he was certain. certain that he wasn’t thinking himself loony. and because you didn’t do well around him or ysa’s friend group, you wanted nothing more than for the happenings of that night to be erased. he’s getting married soon, maybe it was time you you went back to pining over him. and he should do the same — minus the pining part, obviously.

but he was . . . starting to actually like you. he couldn’t say it for sure, but he definitely didn’t hate you anymore. he didn’t want to. he didn’t think he would label this new development as feelings, which was a word that held way too much emotional weight, but . . . he felt different. there hadn’t even been a moment where he wanted to dump you off somewhere. the desire to be cruel to you was pretty much gone. only took two sessions and to be apart for four nights!

seemed too easy.

sure, he could still mash you if he tried, but he didn’t want to try anymore. instead, he wants to share a private meal and learn you. everything after high-school. the bits he consciously chose to miss. like, why’d you turn away from finance and go into education? or, did you keep up with his professional stats . . . even for a short while? or, with whom from the past decade would you consider ‘serious’?

and cameron doesn’t even realise he’s staring blankly into space until he’s elbowed in the soft meat of his waist and told that he looks stupid staring into space. adonis reminds his good friend, and former opponent, to remove those sneakers and line ‘em up on the rack. his woman didn’t like tracks around their place and cameron tended to treat every living space like his own. and though cameron knew bianca’s rule, he enjoyed working her nerve.

thinking of b : “mm, was just about to text you two. again.” she’s descending the mahogany stairs, looking between the grown men holding three brown-paper bags each. tonight’s meal. a day-old tradition bianca wanted to incorporate into their lives. she says she misses the inner-circle’s closeness. but in actuality, she was apart of a facebook group that made her feel guilty for not hosting frequent, intimate gatherings to ‘strengthen familial connections’.

with a finger, bianca motions toward the pearly white kitchen, sprinkling droplets. when she touches the bottom, instead of following the guys, she goes for the front door, still wagging water from her hands. she peers through that frosty, opaque opening, wondering if maybe they’d returned with a third and just left her outside? but no. there was no third. bianca twists the lock down and turns on both heels, curls bouncing in her effortless, shaggy high pony.

“cam, where’s ysa? i know you saw my message.” yeah, he did see it. but ysa was . . . she wasn’t feeling it. she was in a mood. and cameron wasn’t in the mood for her mood; no one liked ysa when she got into her little moods. “really? not feelin’ dinner? - i swear we were on the phone like an hour ago, she seemed fine.” well, anything can happen in an hour. everyone knew that. a five minute argument had the power to ruin someone’s entire week.

and while bianca’s unloading a paper bag, something in her spirit does not believe that bleak, weirdly vague excuse. his hesitation was unappreciated and quite concerning, since when he didn’t have donnie’s shoulder to whine on, he had hers. it was almost offensive he wasn’t up for a little blabbering. but she guessed it be best to leave that where it was for now. because no one liked cam when he got into his little moods —

plus, she’d find out when ysa called later tonight. that’s what usually happened anyways. after any and every disagreement, no matter how big or small, cameron left for some fight club forty minutes out to ‘cool off’, and ysa rang bianca . . . slurring over words, finger tangled around the stem of a tall wine glass overflowing with bitter red wine.

“we got’chu next time.” which sounded honest enough. “promise, bia. ‘nd you know i keep my promises.” pssh. bianca’s crunching two paper bags into a gigantic ball, her lips crooked upward, and an expression of yeah fucking right plastered on her face. if he lied to her again, he was liable to get struck by lightning.

“grab those two for me, would’ya?” and he watches bianca stab a wooden spoon over at the center most bit of her and adonis’ living area: lamps, vanilla candles, and ceiling lights set on warm-yellow. the brown curtains, matching the pillows and throw blankets in shade, are swiped back to let the natural deep blue evening sky spill in. “mara’s helping us cook. she would not leave me alone ‘bout it,” with a soft smile.

cameron nods, drumming both hands above the countertop before pushing off and heading around. he tried to hide his uneasiness. you were so cute looking; skipping with your niece in a dress the babiest of pinks, a cone-shaped headdress balancing atop your hair, wand in one hand and wii-stick in the other —

“. . . heey -?” but his voice dies flat when he can feel his cheeks go hot. he decides he’d rather not interrupt, because for the next minute or so, you were the imaginary mother of his imaginary kid.

the cannon did not want children. but if there had been any blessings left for him in this world, he would not mind it. this. just one munchkin. one chunky munchkin that was half yours. he would commit and do the whole parenting thing with you. only if the universe were to ever allow that ending . . . but he would not dare get his hopes high. this situation was a nasty one, he could admit.

it takes thirty seconds for the dance round to come to a bittersweet end. you’re out of breath, posed like you’ve just wrapped up a sold, worldwide pop tour. and amara, she’s in a similar state — the glitter within her purple tutu catching the rainbow lights as she wobbles precariously on her tiptoes. she manages all of two wonky steps before pitching sideways into your thigh, clutching onto you for dear life just before she can face-plant into the carpet.

cameron licks back a chuckle — and the instant amara looks his way, he quickly schools his features, wiping the grin from his face before she can mistake it for mockery. he raised one hand to his mouth, a sign he’s learned as a generic question: you okay, mara?

she rubs her tiny chin, humming and just now remembering that round four required a third dancer. little fingers fluttering and shaping each word in the air: i ‘may’ feel better if you play with me and auntie. they finish at her waist, where she gives an eager wiggle, wearing the sweetest, most hopeful smile ever.

cameron turns to you first and you’re stuck looking at cutie amara, mindlessly twirling a soft curl about one finger, unwilling to meet his face. he wasn't sure whether he was deserving of that. whatever’s happening right now. but he lifts both big hands anyway and goes: finish dinner. okay? bia . . . [searching for the appropriate sign]. waits for you. the girl offers her uncle a good job thumb. then, with one small nod in her auntie’s direction: “and you,” he said.

amara marched up the puffy couch cushions and swiveled over like a superhero. a short-cut, she called it. you didn’t have the luxury of doing such superhero move, so you take the long-way, silly fabric squiggling behind — “i want a minute.”

that’s when you halt and look over your shoulder, puffing out a deep, annoyed sigh. as much as he didn’t want to start anything or make a fuss in your brother’s home, there was no sleeping tonight if he didn’t get what he had on his heart off. “jus’ one. swear.” sounded too familiar and you can recall how that resulted: the l word nearly slipping free.

he promised not to touch you. he promised to stand at arm’s length. and while you’re lapping it over in your mind for the moment, he anxiously awaited your response. but before an answer can be exchanged, adonis claps him on the shoulder. the skin-to-skin strike was loud and must’ve been painful, but cameron didn’t have any sort of reaction. adonis had something cool to show off. something about the world cup. “real quick, real quick,” pulling at cameron’s weight.

upon entering the kitchen, you’re immediately assigned to vegetable dicing and chicken seasoning. “what was that?” bianca wondered, handing over an extra container of oregano and black pepper. “what was what?” but she can see right through your act of cluelessness . . . not enough to put two-and-two together though. she knew that you and cameron grew up constantly bumping heads, so whatever that was could’ve been about anything. literally. anything. tipping each other over the ledge never took a lot.

“just not in front of mara.” who was spooning a huge bowl of jiffy cornbread mix, crown lopsided and cheeks somehow streaked with flour. “i beggg,” while kindly cuffing your arm. of course. of course. never would your niece see you like that. arguing with a man over something so . . . yeah.

as you’re chopping through two fat carrots, you can only think about cameron. the last four nights were bizarre, but it also felt weirdly natural — not normal, but undemanding. missing him felt like . . . it felt right. it felt like you’d returned to planet earth after spending some time in space.

you already liked him, but the want for friendship didn’t scare you anymore. for the first time ever. and obviously, for that to happen, you and cameron would have to stop fucking and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that to end just yet. whatever this was, it was a shitty place. but it wasn’t exactly a horrible place; better than arguing and kicking at the other. just one filled with a lot of frustration and confusion and unfaithfulness . . .

and in order for a casual-friendship to work, you [a]. had to stand up for yourself. this ‘i fucking despise you’ dynamic was so tired. and [b]. you seriously couldn’t have sex with him again . . .

— the real test of character was here. right now. dinner was over and the dishes were stacked away. amara got four more just dance! rounds out of her family and was down for the night. adonis snuggled in the same bed, snoring amongst fairy-lights and glowy stars. and his wife was in a private bathroom, singing to tamar braxton, applying the rest of a charcoal face mask and waiting for ysa to call.

as for cameron . . . he was missing you in that fairytale costume. he’s still at the dining table taking irregular swigs from a longneck bottle of warm beer and watching you gather up your belongings.

he has his bottom lip pulled between his thumb and forefinger in contemplation. he couldn’t remember the last time he’s ever been this anxious — absolutely terrified — to speak to a woman. or the last time panic rattled his entirety at the mere thought of potentially never being able to have a pussy squeezing his cock again. this was torture; to be in your presence and not have you as he wanted you.

“what time you plan on leaving out?” he dropped his fingers from his lips and redirected his weirdly intense gaze elsewhere. he’s assuming that you must’ve found it strange that he’s sat back longer than he also expected. now looking at you: “after . . .” cameron scoots the chair a bit, “. . . i get that conversation.”

guess this was the perfect window.

you’re seeing him begin to stand from the dining table and in what seemed like the longest second of your life, you wanted to unclasp his belt and jump into his arms. it was impossible not to. it was impossible not to want him. to ache for him and hope for him, as you’ve always had . . . “i was going to say it.”

he guessed it was nice to have a confirmation. “hasn’t left my mind.” after countless feeble attempts, it was no use. it was and had to be your body under his. from here on and forever. you’ve made his home life impossible. he can not kiss his fiancée as he used to, because her lips are not your own. he can not hug his fiancée, because her body is not your own. just existing here now, mere feet from you, has his resolute hanging by a thread.

“but, y’know. that’s what happens during sex - we say things we don’t mean,” you blurted. a cheap cop-out. one he couldn’t accept. or embrace. did you seriously think he’d take that?

“it’s been a long, hard coupl’a nights . . . and i’ve . . . i’ve underestimated you.” or rather, he believed he couldn’t fall for the girl he used to pinch and bite following rough, adult sex in a muggy, male locker-room. but that’s what he did.

he wasn’t too worried though. about this here. he knew he could get your legs open again as soon as this madness was all over.

“i’ve tried reaching you- calls. texts. voicemails. that phone broke?” cameron gestures to the device indenting one front pocket. no, it was not broken. nor cracked a smidge. its condition was immaculate actually. you hold a hand over your concealed phone and shake your head, muttering no. “i silenced everything . . . wasn’t ready ‘s’all.” and scared you might’ve spooked him. “but, uhm- i have’to apologise.” not just to him, but to ysa. and adonis. and bianca. and mama cade. and your momma! “i know better.”

woahwoahwoah. cameron catches your arm, careful of the slipping purse. “‘m not mad. ‘ight? i’m not. but- hey. hey- i do think we can try somethin’.” he wanted you more than anything. more than everything. “- i wan’a try something with you.” try? with pupils blown and bigger than the moon. “something that’s more serious- you’d like that, yeah?”

serious like what? secret girlfriend-boyfriend, serious?

“no.” like there could be a serious label after tonight.

“no?” he’s plucked. “you’ve said no more than three words t’me all night.” and for very good reason. “i don’t want that again.” . . . “i showed up ‘cause i miss you.” but also ‘cause he knew ysa wouldn’t be on his arm to bullshit and yank him away. “i cannot think of anyone else.” — cameron releases your arm without even meaning to and paces sloppy circles about the space between the dining area and the living area. a tell-tale sign that he was spiralling and getting ready to crash. “i can’t.”

you swallow thickly, gripping both hips for stability and comfort. seeing the way he moved was making your mind tilt and legs jelly. the nervous energy that warped and buzzed around cameron was spreading and latching onto you. “yeah- i’m not doing this.” fresh air. get outside. fressh airr. out.sidde.

“if not now, then when? huh?” cameron hurried forth, adamant on keeping you from leaving out of that front door.

gulp. “maybe when you feel like havin’ sex with me again,” right as you’re about to snatch back the handle: “oh don’t- don’t you dare do that.” because there was something awful in your voice. and he wasn’t going for it. shit wasn’t fair. “i did not lure you into some - fucked, degrading ass shit -“

“you didn’t have to!” oh crap. that was much louder than what you were going for. but not as loud as the grumbling in your tummy and the thrashing of your upset heart. “you- my gosh- cameron,” said with an enormous sense of wrongness, “you know how i feel- have felt about you for years. years.”

okay, so, yeah. maybe he used that to get over the bridge that night in the locker-room. maybe your feelings made it easier. cameron had always known how to press. and you'd always had a weakness for persistence. cameron’s bedroom-life wasn’t the greatest then and still isn’t now. and yours is and has never existed to begin with. no offense.

making a choked noise, “you knew.”

“. . . i did.” a confession; there was real history here. jacked up, cracked up history. but it was there. “and you knew too.” you couldn't claim surprise. couldn't claim innocence. or victim. the only victim in this case was ysa. he’d gotten you halfway, holding the door open, and the other half had been your own two feet.

“but did you not hear what i just said? . . .” cameron hunched down until he was eye level and cradled the sides of your neck. then gently cupped both of your cute cheeks. “i. want. you.”

but it . . . it doesn’t feel good. this doesn’t feel like love. not from him. not the kind you'd spent all those lonely nights imagining. you've wanted him to choose you for so long, yet now that he was, all you could feel was the mess of how he'd gotten here. there were no butterflies and there were no sparkles and there were no confetti cannons. "i want you to want me - the right way."

the right way? he wasn’t getting it. he wasn’t understanding your opposition. you’ve wanted him for years. fucking years, like you said. since before you could even comprehend what romantic feelings were. all you’ve ever been able to think about was cameron cade. all you’ve ever known to breathe for was cameron cade. and to be chased by him. and to call him yours. and now that he was purposing the idea, you were . . . declining. ???

did he have to leave ysa?

“jus’ . . .” he righted himself and wiped his face with a deep, full-body groan. “jus’ sit down.”

but sitting down was not happening. you’re looking at him with disgust and deep sorrow and neither hear the soft-as-a-mouse footfalls at the staircase — “this . . . is not affection,” barely able to speak over the nausea. “this shit . . . is- it’s messy.” which might’ve been the nicest word to use here. “and you do not want the’real me.”

maybe he believed it was love. maybe he even meant every word. but compared to everything you'd carried for him your entire life, it felt flimsy. what you had, it was forged by time and vexation and disappointment and patience. “i . . . want someone who’ll see me as someone.” . . . it had been easy to give him your body because your heart had belonged to him. but giving him the rest of your life? that was different. that required believing he loved you for reasons that existed before the night in the locker-room. and you didn't.

cameron’s brows fold into themselves and his arms uncross. defeated. “would you please jus’ sit down?”

that . . . was not happening. it couldn’t. another minute spent talking with cameron was another minute you could’ve been home, in the bed, holding a bowl of chopped fruit and the television streaming season four of the big bang theory. “goodnight, cameron.”

and you left without saying anything else.

he should’ve told you that the sex wasn’t to be taken to heart. just something fun, he figured. but having known you his whole life, saying that not only would’ve hurt you —

but it would’ve kept you away . . .

[svolazi]

I love that the two dark skinned girls made it to the final with partners that make them feel SEEN AND HEARD. Black girls, take this as a sign to GO WHERE YOU ARE LOVED.

[luvmoody]

Welcome to moodyfm 📻

press play

moody, 22, black (African-American), she/her, funny gyal.

the mix:

main: @moodymp4 #💽 for masterlist

new drop: #soon

- luvmoody

[dreamysunsetsforever]

I know Tyriq is mostly known for being extremely funny and acting a fool😂 and I love that about him. But I also really love that other side of Tyriq where he's being serious & genuine when he answer questions like this and he shows how emotionally intelligent he is and how beautiful his mind is. I particularly love this clip where he talks about how he wants to be loved🥹💕

[fortunest4r]

posting tonight :)

also pls understand that I just do this for fun if/when inspiration strikes! please don't demand updates from me, it just makes me less motivated to write :/

in the meantime... the buzz today was astronomical wow

#myvotemattered

[moodymp4]

need me a man that look and act like carl on the roster lowkey…

[mauvecherie-writes]

One day, I’ll make a google doc for people to add themselves to the tag list. But until then, INTRACT TYRIQ GIRLIES.

[luvmoody]

sneak peek for my people 🙏🏾. I’ve been in almost finished editing it like crazy 😭. Def been over thinking it. Once I finish everything! I will be posting almost immediately after!

Thank yall for your patience!

[moodymp4]

things are cooking up on my writblr acc i’m so excited to share it with yall!

[trincessisland]

LOVE ISLAND USA SEASON 8 Carl & Aniya (Episode 33)

[hotgirlgenniesblog]

28 years old, hallelujah.

career blossoming, hallelujah.

fine man, hallelujah.

hopeful for your future & more opportunities, hallelujah.

happy birthday dadaman.

[tyriqwithersfan]

This is the look