𝚗𝚘𝚒𝚛 𝚕𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚢

20s. melanin, midnight & messy love stories.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

SOON COME…

ANTEROGRADE

A fic based on the movie ‘Fifty First Dates & The Vow’

Summary: Luciana and Terry cross paths in a cafe one morning after a boat haul. They instantly connect and plan to meet up again—same place, same time, with an order of waffles. Terry returns and Luciana shows no recollection of ever meeting him. When he discovers she has amnesia, and forgets him when she falls asleep, he resolves to win her over again each new day.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Romance.

[noir-lullaby]

i need to make a masterlist, but i've only got like two fics 😭. that might encourage me to actually release the rest

[donteventry-itdude]

and while we are at it i need someone to point me in the direction of some good black reader stories / books / fics because im getting tired of having to use all my brain power to try and imagine myself in the readers shoes and the description of her leads me to know that she’s not black like HELP i’ve been reading since i was like such a young kid and ive had this problem for like a good 20 years now 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[megamindsecretlair]

Join us then! 🤭🤪

Shouting out some Black authors that write specifically for Black readers in mind. Mixed bag for fandoms though. This is off the dome, if I forget, I'm so so sorry 😘

@onherereading @darqchilddaydreamz @slippinninque @westside-rot @planetblaque

@notapradagurl7 @superhoeva @halfofmysoulsblog @sweettea-and-honeybutter @dabratzchronicles

@yassbishimvintage @nubiawrites @nerdieforpedro @soft-persephone @nathanbatemanfucker

@simplyzeeka @zillasvilla @keyaho @kumkaniudaku

I could go on. And if I'm not mistaken, there's a Black writers archive at @chaneajoyyy

[zillasvilla]

Thanks for the mention 🫶🏾 imma add my few to the bunch !

@uceyliyahh @acknowledge-reigns @novahreign @ghostfacekill-monger @southerngirl41 @mauvecherie-writes @kill-the-artiste @harmshake

And I'm sure I'm forgetting people to 😭

[kill-the-artiste]

I appreciate the mention! 🖤 I’ll add @joannasteez @empressdede @msklassickilla @paigereeder but I have so many more.

[msklassickilla]

🥹 Not lil ole me done made the list. Adding the bebes @emotionalhottiee @levissslutt @sheaabuttaababyy

[emotionalhottiee]

Awe thank you @msklassickilla 🥹🤗. I gotta add my favs @msklassickilla ofc. @uceyliyahh @bookuce @whatdoeseverybodywant @sheaabuttaababyy @punksyeet @tribalhoochie im sorry if i forgot anyone

[punksyeet]

so incredibly honored to be on this list with such talented writers - a million times thank you @emotionalhottiee ! 🥹🤍

shoutout to my absolute favs: @uceyliyahh @charmed-dreamssss @empressdede @msbigredmachine @prettyfilmz @romanreignseater @shes2real @usoinked @4milly @whatdoeseverybodywant <3

[uceyliyahh]

I am flattered to be list fr fr with these amazing writers ✍🏽

These are my favs: @charmed-dreamssss @trippinsorrows @whowrotethenote @whatdoeseverybodywant @luuvprincess @fafomama @biancasreign @4milly @420days

[whowrotethenote]

thanks bbygirl!💗 @uceyliyahh i appreciate you!

some more amazing writers that i don’t already see on the post: @mikaylathenerd5 @brwnsugababe @caramelcleopatraa @heauxvibez @thesamoanqueen

i know there’s more i’m drawing a blank

[mikaylathenerd5]

Aww love thank you for the mention 🥹❤️ @whowrotethenote you don't know how much it means to me, especially with being mentioned with all these amazing writers!

I'll add @romanreignsbae @jaethaone @thatone-girly

There are so many more, but they have already been mentioned or I can't remember off the top of my head lol. Everyone has such amazing work ❤️

[thatone-girly]

Not I done made the listtt! Let me add a few.

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @caashmoneynae @melosliving @siribaes @noir-lullaby @overrboarrd

[noir-lullaby]

gasped that i even made this list, thank you for the mention babe! i'd like to also shout out some amazing writers.

@writingsbytee @notapradagurl7 @lifeisabutadream444 @theblacklewinsky @sugarplum217 @ranikyani

[pocketsizedpanther]

I just died omg

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8YwM1et/

& I'm dead right along with you friend!

[noir-lullaby]

The Spotlight is Ours Pt. 1

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Original Character

Summary: Two rising Black British stars in Hollywood. One fateful night at the NAACP Image Awards. When actress Sienna Sinclair presents the award for Outstanding Actor in a Limited Series, the winner is none other than Aaron Pierre. The chemistry is instant, the banter is effortless, and the connection? Dangerous. But in an industry where everyone is watching, some things are better left unsaid… or are they?

🔸 Warnings: Heavy flirtation, mutual pining, and the start of something messy. 🔸 Author’s Note: Welcome to the beginning of a very questionable love story.

The NAACP Image Awards were in full swing, a night dedicated to celebrating Black excellence in entertainment. The grandeur of the Pasadena Civic Auditorium was amplified by the shimmering gold and deep purple stage design, and the room was alive with applause, camera flashes, and the palpable energy of some of the biggest names in Hollywood.

Seated among the nominees, Aaron Pierre adjusted the cuffs of his custom black tuxedo, keeping his expression cool despite the slight thrum of anticipation in his chest. He had been nominated for Outstanding Actor in a Limited Television Series, Special, or Movie for his role in Rebel Ridge, a project that had tested his limits as an actor and elevated his career. Winning would be monumental, but he wasn’t the type to get ahead of himself.

As he sat waiting, his attention flickered to the stage where the next presenter was being introduced.

“Please welcome, the incredibly talented, Sienna Sinclair!”

Aaron’s brows lifted slightly as he watched Sienna Sinclair glide onto the stage, radiating effortless grace and confidence. He had heard of her, of course—the Oscar-winning British actress whose career had skyrocketed after her powerful performance in a historical drama. He had seen her on magazine covers, watched her interviews in passing, but seeing her in real life was… different.

Dressed in a form-fitting, midnight-blue gown, she exuded a kind of cool, magnetic energy. And then she spoke—her London accent cutting through the air, smooth yet commanding.

“Alright, alright. Let’s get to it,” she said, flashing a teasing smile as she opened the envelope. “The nominees for Outstanding Actor in a Limited Television Series, Special, or Movie are…”

Aaron barely heard the rest of the list. His focus was on her, the way she carried herself, how her presence seemed to pull attention like gravity.

Then—

“…and the NAACP Image Award goes to—” She paused, drawing out the suspense, her dark eyes flickering toward the camera with playful mischief.

“Aaron Pierre, for Rebel Ridge!”

The crowd erupted into applause.

Aaron blinked once before allowing a slow, satisfied smile to spread across his face. He stood, adjusting his suit with ease before making his way toward the stage, dap-ups and handshakes following him on the way.

When he reached the podium, he took the award from Sienna's hands, and for a brief moment, their fingers brushed. It was subtle, fleeting, but enough to make Aaron glance up and fully take her in.

Up close, she was even more stunning.

“Congratulations,” Sienna murmured, her voice just low enough for him to hear.

“Appreciate it,” Aaron replied smoothly, his deep voice wrapping around the word in a way that made Sienna’s lips twitch slightly.

Aaron turned toward the microphone, delivering a speech that was humble, thoughtful, and reflective of his journey. He spoke about the importance of storytelling, about the shared experiences of Black British and African-American actors carving out spaces in Hollywood, about how recognition like this was both an honor and a responsibility.

“I didn’t get here alone,” he finished, his rich voice sending a hush over the room. “To every young Black actor watching, to every kid dreaming beyond what they’ve been told is possible—we are the blueprint. And the best is still yet to come.”

Thunderous applause.

Sienna clapped alongside the audience before leaning into the mic. “And on top of all that… he’s also Mufasa.”

The crowd roared with laughter, and Aaron exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head.

Sienna smirked at him. “Had to.”

Aaron gave her a look—amused, but also intrigued. “We’ll talk about this backstage.”

Sienna tilted her head, watching him as he walked off. “Looking forward to it.”

--

The post-win chaos was already unfolding backstage—cameras flashing, journalists waiting for quotes, production assistants ushering talent from one place to another. Aaron had barely had time to process the moment when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Well, well, look at you, Mr. Award Winner.”

Aaron turned.

Sienna Sinclair stood there, arms crossed, watching him with a smirk.

Aaron couldn’t help but let his gaze linger for half a second longer than necessary. “Didn’t expect to see you back here so soon.”

Sienna shrugged. “Had to personally congratulate you. You know, since I had the honor of saying your name on stage.”

Aaron nodded, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. “You did say it well. Very elegant.”

Sienna raised an eyebrow. “I do everything elegantly.”

Aaron exhaled a quiet chuckle. “Not doubting it.”

She tilted her head slightly. “So… how does it feel? Winning?”

Aaron glanced down at the trophy in his hand before looking back at her. “Feels good. But I won’t lie—hearing my name come out of your mouth might’ve been the highlight of the night.”

Sienna sucked her teeth, shaking her head, though there was something in her expression—something that said she wasn’t entirely unaffected by him.

“You’re full of it,” she teased.

Aaron leaned in slightly. “Am I?”

Sienna, ever the quick-witted one, smirked. “Yeah. And I can’t believe you let me call you out in front of everyone like that.”

Aaron shook his head. “The Mufasa jingle?”

Miracle nodded. “You knew I had to bring it up.”

Aaron narrowed his eyes playfully. “You enjoyed that way too much.”

“I did,” she admitted, her smirk widening. “And let’s be real, you love it. Don’t lie, you’ve sung it to yourself at least once.”

Aaron rubbed his jaw, his expression unreadable. “I’m not dignifying that with a response.”

Sienna laughed, tilting her head. “It’s alright, Aaron. Aaron Pierre, that’s Mufasa—it’s got a nice ring to it.”

Aaron exhaled a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You know, it’s unfair how much pleasure you’re getting out of this.”

“Oh, trust me, I could get pleasure out of a lot more than that.”

Aaron’s jaw tightened slightly, the air between them shifting from playful to something heavier.

Sienna’s eyes held his, dark and teasing. “But I’ll let you enjoy your win first.”

Aaron huffed a laugh, nodding. “So generous of you.”

She smirked. “You’re welcome.”

The moment stretched just a second longer than necessary—his gaze still locked with hers, her breath just a little deeper.

From across the backstage area, a production assistant called out to Sienna, signaling that she was needed elsewhere.

She exhaled, shaking her head as she took a step back. “Well, Mufasa, I’ll see you around.”

Aaron tilted his head slightly, watching as she turned and walked away, her presence lingering even after she disappeared from sight.

“Yeah,” he murmured to himself, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “You will.”

[noir-lullaby]

aww aaron actually ended up winning the award. congrats to him - reblogging tonight in honour of that 🏆

[noir-lullaby]

No please don’t be nervous you’re actually a GOOD writer and anyone with two or maybe one eye can see that🤩❤️❤️❤️ you are really talented. Post it in your time we will still be here waiting for some crumbs🥺

omgg 🥹🥹 not you satisfying my praise kink 💀💀… okay let’s see how this weekend goes. might drop something for ‘the spotlight is ours’ series!

[noir-lullaby]

Love is Blind | Terry Richmond

Summary: Falling in love without seeing each other was the easy part. But when the doors open and you finally lay eyes on Terry Richmond, you realise this isn't just an experiment anymore. It's real.

Warnings: pure fluff.

Author’s Note: Y’all, Terry Richmond on Love Is Blind was not on my bingo card, but here we are! 😭 I had so much fun writing this.

Word Count: ~2,800 words

The moment you signed up for Love Is Blind, you told yourself you weren’t going to settle. No half-hearted connections, no forcing sparks that weren’t there. You wanted something real. And yet, sitting on this couch in the pod, you found yourself falling. Hard.

His voice was deep, steady, a soothing kind of rich that made you lean in closer to the wall that separated you. There was a quiet strength to the way he spoke, an intentionality behind every word. He listened to you—not just hearing, but truly absorbing everything you said.

“So you really teach second grade?” Terry asked, a smile evident in his tone.

“Mhm, going on five years now. They keep me on my toes, but I love it. It’s beautiful seeing their minds expand, especially our little Black and brown babies. I want them to see the world as big as they want it to be.”

Terry hummed, a thoughtful pause before he responded. “That’s dope. I respect that.”

You grinned. “And you? A former Marine?”

“Yeah. Did my time, but I knew early on I wasn’t staying in forever. Too much blind loyalty, y’know? And I ain’t with all that.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “I won’t lie, I’ve always had complicated feelings about the military.”

“How so?”

You exhaled, choosing your words carefully. “I get why people serve. I really do. But it’s hard knowing how much harm our government has done, especially to people who look like us. I could never put my life on the line for a country that’s never fully protected us.”

Terry was quiet for a beat before he spoke, voice even. “I hear you. And honestly? I don’t disagree. I enlisted ‘cause I needed stability. Wanted to make sure my family was good. But the deeper I got into it, the more I saw the cracks. So I left.”

You bit your lip, thinking. “Do you regret it?”

“Nah. It made me who I am, but it don’t define me. I’m more than that.”

Something in your chest warmed at that. You liked the way he saw himself, how he wasn’t confined to one experience, one box. It made you want to know more.

Days turned into weeks, and with every conversation, the connection deepened. You spoke about everything—the best soul food spots, your love for old-school R&B, the books that changed your lives. Be still, your heart.

The laughter, the teasing, the little moments of vulnerability—it all built to this moment.

“I know this might be crazy,” Terry started, voice lower now, like he was holding his breath. “But I can’t ignore what I feel for you. I don’t need to see your face to know I wanna build something real with you.”

Your heart pounded. You had dreamed of this moment, but with him, it felt different. It felt right.

“Terry,” you whispered, emotion thick in your throat.

“Will you marry me?”

Tears pricked at your eyes, the answer already there. “Yes.”

--

The night before the reveal, you barely slept. Your mind raced with excitement, nerves, and the tiniest sliver of doubt. What if he wasn’t attracted to you? What if the chemistry fizzled when you were face to face? But deep down, you knew it wasn’t just about looks. You had fallen for his mind, his heart, the way he made you feel safe without even seeing you.

And then, the moment came.

Standing behind the doors, your hands trembled. This was it. The moment you would finally see him, no walls, no barriers. Just you and him.

The doors opened, and your breath hitched.

Terry Richmond stood there, tall and strong, blue-grey eyes locked onto you with an intensity that made your stomach flip. He was beautiful, and the way his lips parted in awe made you feel like the most radiant woman in the world.

“Damn,” he exhaled, running a hand over his goatee. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”

You let out a soft laugh, stepping forward as he pulled you into his arms. The embrace was firm, secure, like home. He smelled of cedarwood and something distinctly him, and when he pulled back just enough to look at you, there was nothing but warmth in his gaze.

“We really did this, huh?” you murmured, fingers tracing the lapels of his suit.

“Yeah, we did,” he said, voice full of certainty. “And I ain’t letting go.”

Neither were you.

You couldn’t stop staring at him, drinking in every detail—his strong jawline, the faint scar on his brow, the way his hands held yours like he was afraid to let go. “I was scared,” you admitted. “That maybe this connection wouldn’t feel as real in person. But looking at you now? I’ve never been more sure.”

Terry cupped your cheek, thumb grazing your skin gently. “I know what you mean. But I felt you before I saw you. And now that I see you?” He leaned in, voice low and reverent. “I ain’t going nowhere.”

Before you could overthink it, his lips captured yours in a slow, deep kiss. The world around you faded, cameras and crew slipping into nothingness as you melted into him. His hands anchored you, fingers pressing into the small of your back as he deepened the kiss, taking his time like he wanted to memorize the way you tasted. Your arms looped around his neck, holding him close, needing him closer. It was soft and urgent all at once, a promise sealed between you.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, he pressed his forehead against yours, a small smirk on his lips. “Yeah,” he murmured. “This is real.”

The first few minutes together felt like a dream. The way he held your hand, the way he whispered little reassurances—You good? You nervous?—all of it made you melt. The cameras, the producers, all faded into the background. It was just the two of you.

“So… what now, fiancée?” he teased, smirking as he twirled your fingers between his own.

You laughed, tilting your head. “I guess we get ready for the real world.”

“Think we’ll survive?” he asked, half-joking, half-serious.

You squeezed his hand. “As long as you’re in it, I’m ready.”

Terry studied you for a long moment, like he was committing every detail of your face to memory. Then, with a slow, confident nod, he smiled. “Then let’s do this, baby.”

And for the first time in a long time, you felt completely, undeniably, ready too.

taglist: @nayaesworld @slvt4her @novahreign @nbanenefrmdao @kaylalb @woahthatshitfat

[westside-rot]

This was really sweet. I loved it.

[noir-lullaby]

aww thank you ❤️

[noir-lullaby]

Love is Blind | Terry Richmond

Summary: Falling in love without seeing each other was the easy part. But when the doors open and you finally lay eyes on Terry Richmond, you realise this isn't just an experiment anymore. It's real.

Warnings: pure fluff.

Author’s Note: Y’all, Terry Richmond on Love Is Blind was not on my bingo card, but here we are! 😭 I had so much fun writing this.

Word Count: ~2,800 words

The moment you signed up for Love Is Blind, you told yourself you weren’t going to settle. No half-hearted connections, no forcing sparks that weren’t there. You wanted something real. And yet, sitting on this couch in the pod, you found yourself falling. Hard.

His voice was deep, steady, a soothing kind of rich that made you lean in closer to the wall that separated you. There was a quiet strength to the way he spoke, an intentionality behind every word. He listened to you—not just hearing, but truly absorbing everything you said.

“So you really teach second grade?” Terry asked, a smile evident in his tone.

“Mhm, going on five years now. They keep me on my toes, but I love it. It’s beautiful seeing their minds expand, especially our little Black and brown babies. I want them to see the world as big as they want it to be.”

Terry hummed, a thoughtful pause before he responded. “That’s dope. I respect that.”

You grinned. “And you? A former Marine?”

“Yeah. Did my time, but I knew early on I wasn’t staying in forever. Too much blind loyalty, y’know? And I ain’t with all that.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “I won’t lie, I’ve always had complicated feelings about the military.”

“How so?”

You exhaled, choosing your words carefully. “I get why people serve. I really do. But it’s hard knowing how much harm our government has done, especially to people who look like us. I could never put my life on the line for a country that’s never fully protected us.”

Terry was quiet for a beat before he spoke, voice even. “I hear you. And honestly? I don’t disagree. I enlisted ‘cause I needed stability. Wanted to make sure my family was good. But the deeper I got into it, the more I saw the cracks. So I left.”

You bit your lip, thinking. “Do you regret it?”

“Nah. It made me who I am, but it don’t define me. I’m more than that.”

Something in your chest warmed at that. You liked the way he saw himself, how he wasn’t confined to one experience, one box. It made you want to know more.

Days turned into weeks, and with every conversation, the connection deepened. You spoke about everything—the best soul food spots, your love for old-school R&B, the books that changed your lives. Be still, your heart.

The laughter, the teasing, the little moments of vulnerability—it all built to this moment.

“I know this might be crazy,” Terry started, voice lower now, like he was holding his breath. “But I can’t ignore what I feel for you. I don’t need to see your face to know I wanna build something real with you.”

Your heart pounded. You had dreamed of this moment, but with him, it felt different. It felt right.

“Terry,” you whispered, emotion thick in your throat.

“Will you marry me?”

Tears pricked at your eyes, the answer already there. “Yes.”

--

The night before the reveal, you barely slept. Your mind raced with excitement, nerves, and the tiniest sliver of doubt. What if he wasn’t attracted to you? What if the chemistry fizzled when you were face to face? But deep down, you knew it wasn’t just about looks. You had fallen for his mind, his heart, the way he made you feel safe without even seeing you.

And then, the moment came.

Standing behind the doors, your hands trembled. This was it. The moment you would finally see him, no walls, no barriers. Just you and him.

The doors opened, and your breath hitched.

Terry Richmond stood there, tall and strong, blue-grey eyes locked onto you with an intensity that made your stomach flip. He was beautiful, and the way his lips parted in awe made you feel like the most radiant woman in the world.

“Damn,” he exhaled, running a hand over his goatee. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”

You let out a soft laugh, stepping forward as he pulled you into his arms. The embrace was firm, secure, like home. He smelled of cedarwood and something distinctly him, and when he pulled back just enough to look at you, there was nothing but warmth in his gaze.

“We really did this, huh?” you murmured, fingers tracing the lapels of his suit.

“Yeah, we did,” he said, voice full of certainty. “And I ain’t letting go.”

Neither were you.

You couldn’t stop staring at him, drinking in every detail—his strong jawline, the faint scar on his brow, the way his hands held yours like he was afraid to let go. “I was scared,” you admitted. “That maybe this connection wouldn’t feel as real in person. But looking at you now? I’ve never been more sure.”

Terry cupped your cheek, thumb grazing your skin gently. “I know what you mean. But I felt you before I saw you. And now that I see you?” He leaned in, voice low and reverent. “I ain’t going nowhere.”

Before you could overthink it, his lips captured yours in a slow, deep kiss. The world around you faded, cameras and crew slipping into nothingness as you melted into him. His hands anchored you, fingers pressing into the small of your back as he deepened the kiss, taking his time like he wanted to memorize the way you tasted. Your arms looped around his neck, holding him close, needing him closer. It was soft and urgent all at once, a promise sealed between you.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, he pressed his forehead against yours, a small smirk on his lips. “Yeah,” he murmured. “This is real.”

The first few minutes together felt like a dream. The way he held your hand, the way he whispered little reassurances—You good? You nervous?—all of it made you melt. The cameras, the producers, all faded into the background. It was just the two of you.

“So… what now, fiancée?” he teased, smirking as he twirled your fingers between his own.

You laughed, tilting your head. “I guess we get ready for the real world.”

“Think we’ll survive?” he asked, half-joking, half-serious.

You squeezed his hand. “As long as you’re in it, I’m ready.”

Terry studied you for a long moment, like he was committing every detail of your face to memory. Then, with a slow, confident nod, he smiled. “Then let’s do this, baby.”

And for the first time in a long time, you felt completely, undeniably, ready too.

taglist: @nayaesworld @slvt4her @novahreign @nbanenefrmdao @kaylalb @woahthatshitfat

[noir-lullaby]

Just read your latest aaron fic and…. Girl that plot twist at the eeeend??? Omg I can’t wait for more I LOVED IT😩💕💕💕💕💕

aww thank you so much ❤️ in the process of finishing up the next chapter but i'm too nervous to post it.

[noir-lullaby]

The Spotlight is Ours Pt. 2

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Original Character

(pt. 1)

Summary: A dinner party at Barry Jenkins’ house brings Aaron and Sienna back together after the NAACP Awards, and the tension is palpable.

🔸 Warnings: Flirting, handsy moments, and questionable morals. (not real life) 🔸 Author’s Note: Aaron is already showing signs of being a menace. You’ve been warned. This series does not include smut, sorry guys 😭

The invitation had arrived unexpectedly. A handwritten note from Barry Jenkins, casually inviting Aaron to an intimate dinner at his home in the Hollywood Hills.

"A gathering of great minds, good food, and even better wine. No cameras, no press. Just us. Hope to see you there."

Aaron had no reason to turn it down—he admired Barry, and these kinds of industry dinners were rare moments of peace in the chaos of Hollywood. What he hadn't expected was to find himself walking into the party and locking eyes with Sienna Sinclair for the second time.

The last time they had seen each other was at the NAACP Image Awards, where Sienna had presented him with his win and made the entire room laugh with her cheeky Mufasa joke. He hadn’t been able to shake her from his mind since.

And now?

Now, she was here, standing in Barry Jenkins’ candlelit dining room, holding a glass of red wine, looking effortlessly radiant in a fitted silk slip dress that shimmered under the warm glow of the chandeliers.

She spotted him instantly, the slow curl of a smirk forming on her lips. "Well, if it isn’t the Aaron Pierre."

Aaron exhaled a laugh, slipping his hands into his pockets as he made his way toward her. “I was wondering if I’d run into you again.”

Sienna tilted her head, eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “Barry throws the best dinners—I couldn’t say no. Didn’t expect to see you here, though.”

Aaron gave her a knowing look. “You think I’d turn down free food and great company?”

Sienna clinked her glass against his, amusement dancing across her face. “Fair enough.”

--

Barry’s dinner parties were nothing short of legendary.

The long mahogany dining table was lined with wine bottles, flickering candles, and half-finished plates of fresh pasta and braised short ribs. The guest list was a who’s who of Black Hollywood—actors, directors, and artists all deeply engaged in conversation, laughter filling the air.

Aaron found himself seated beside Sienna.

It wasn’t planned.

At least, he didn’t think it was.

But as the night stretched on, their conversation grew softer, their voices dipping lower than the buzz of the room.

Sienna leaned in, her shoulder brushing against his. "Be honest, were you expecting to win that night?"

Aaron smirked, swirling the wine in his glass. "What, you don’t think I deserved it?"

Sienna let out a soft chuckle. “Oh, you deserved it. I just wanna know if you were prepared.”

Aaron exhaled a laugh, shaking his head. “Not at all. I was sitting there, thinking about what I was gonna eat after the show, and then you go and say my name.”

Sienna smirked. “And then I roasted you in front of the entire world.”

Aaron narrowed his eyes at her playfully. “Oh, you enjoyed that way too much.”

Sienna shrugged, letting her hand rest lightly on his forearm. "What can I say? I like seeing you squirm."

Aaron felt the warmth of her touch seep through his skin. It wasn’t intentional—at least, it didn’t feel like it was. But it lingered.

His gaze flickered down to her hand before meeting her eyes again. "You’re trouble, Sinclair."

She took a slow sip of wine, voice dropping. "And you like it."

--

The dinner had wound down, guests scattered across Barry’s home, some lingering by the piano, others lost in deep conversation on the balcony.

Aaron was making his way down the hall when he felt a gentle tug on his wrist.

He turned.

Sienna stood before him, eyes dark, lips slightly parted. “Come with me.”

Aaron didn’t hesitate.

She led him into a quiet cloakroom, the dim light casting long shadows on the walls. Coats lined the racks, and there was a faint scent of cologne and perfume in the air.

They were alone.

Slightly drunk.

The air between them was thick—with the weight of unspoken thoughts, lingering glances, and a tension that had been brewing since the moment they first met.

Sienna leaned against the wall, tilting her head at him. "You keep looking at me like that."

Aaron exhaled slowly. "Like what?"

Sienna smirked, stepping closer. "Like you’re trying really hard not to do something you wanna do."

Aaron’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching slightly at his sides.

She wasn’t wrong.

She took another step, close enough that her perfume wrapped around him. "You don’t have to fight it, you know."

Aaron swallowed hard. "Sienna..."

And then—

She kissed him.

It was soft at first, her lips brushing against his with an aching slowness, testing, teasing. Aaron’s breath hitched, his hands instinctively finding her waist, fingers pressing against the silk of her dress.

For a moment, he let himself sink into it.

Then—he pulled away, his forehead resting against hers, his breathing uneven.

"I can’t." His voice was hoarse, low.

Sienna’s brows furrowed slightly, her fingers still lightly gripping the lapels of his blazer. "Why not?"

Aaron’s hands flexed against her waist. "I’m... I’m in a relationship."

Silence.

Sienna’s lips parted slightly, her chest rising and falling. “You don’t act like a man who’s taken.”

Aaron squeezed his eyes shut for a second, his grip on her tightening. “I know.”

Sienna searched his face. “Do you even want to stop?”

A muscle in Aaron’s jaw twitched. "No."

And then—he kissed her.

This time, it wasn’t soft.

It was hungry. Messy. Frustrated.

His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him, and Sienna’s fingers slid into his hair, nails grazing against his scalp.

It was reckless. Intoxicating.

A collision of everything they’d been suppressing.

Sienna’s back hit the wall, and Aaron’s lips trailed from her mouth down to her jaw, then lower, his breath hot against her skin.

She exhaled a shaky breath. "Aaron..."

His hands tightened on her hips. "Tell me to stop."

Sienna’s fingers slid down his chest, gripping the fabric of his blazer. "I can’t."

They weren’t thinking.

They weren’t supposed to be doing this.

But neither of them cared.

--

The cloakroom wasn’t enough.

By the time they stumbled into Aaron’s hotel suite, clothes slightly disheveled, breathing uneven, there was no turning back.

And neither of them tried to.

taglist: @nayaesworld @slvt4her @novahreign

[noir-lullaby]

The Spotlight is Ours Pt. 1

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Original Character

Summary: Two rising Black British stars in Hollywood. One fateful night at the NAACP Image Awards. When actress Sienna Sinclair presents the award for Outstanding Actor in a Limited Series, the winner is none other than Aaron Pierre. The chemistry is instant, the banter is effortless, and the connection? Dangerous. But in an industry where everyone is watching, some things are better left unsaid… or are they?

🔸 Warnings: Heavy flirtation, mutual pining, and the start of something messy. 🔸 Author’s Note: Welcome to the beginning of a very questionable love story.

The NAACP Image Awards were in full swing, a night dedicated to celebrating Black excellence in entertainment. The grandeur of the Pasadena Civic Auditorium was amplified by the shimmering gold and deep purple stage design, and the room was alive with applause, camera flashes, and the palpable energy of some of the biggest names in Hollywood.

Seated among the nominees, Aaron Pierre adjusted the cuffs of his custom black tuxedo, keeping his expression cool despite the slight thrum of anticipation in his chest. He had been nominated for Outstanding Actor in a Limited Television Series, Special, or Movie for his role in Rebel Ridge, a project that had tested his limits as an actor and elevated his career. Winning would be monumental, but he wasn’t the type to get ahead of himself.

As he sat waiting, his attention flickered to the stage where the next presenter was being introduced.

“Please welcome, the incredibly talented, Sienna Sinclair!”

Aaron’s brows lifted slightly as he watched Sienna Sinclair glide onto the stage, radiating effortless grace and confidence. He had heard of her, of course—the Oscar-winning British actress whose career had skyrocketed after her powerful performance in a historical drama. He had seen her on magazine covers, watched her interviews in passing, but seeing her in real life was… different.

Dressed in a form-fitting, midnight-blue gown, she exuded a kind of cool, magnetic energy. And then she spoke—her London accent cutting through the air, smooth yet commanding.

“Alright, alright. Let’s get to it,” she said, flashing a teasing smile as she opened the envelope. “The nominees for Outstanding Actor in a Limited Television Series, Special, or Movie are…”

Aaron barely heard the rest of the list. His focus was on her, the way she carried herself, how her presence seemed to pull attention like gravity.

Then—

“…and the NAACP Image Award goes to—” She paused, drawing out the suspense, her dark eyes flickering toward the camera with playful mischief.

“Aaron Pierre, for Rebel Ridge!”

The crowd erupted into applause.

Aaron blinked once before allowing a slow, satisfied smile to spread across his face. He stood, adjusting his suit with ease before making his way toward the stage, dap-ups and handshakes following him on the way.

When he reached the podium, he took the award from Sienna's hands, and for a brief moment, their fingers brushed. It was subtle, fleeting, but enough to make Aaron glance up and fully take her in.

Up close, she was even more stunning.

“Congratulations,” Sienna murmured, her voice just low enough for him to hear.

“Appreciate it,” Aaron replied smoothly, his deep voice wrapping around the word in a way that made Sienna’s lips twitch slightly.

Aaron turned toward the microphone, delivering a speech that was humble, thoughtful, and reflective of his journey. He spoke about the importance of storytelling, about the shared experiences of Black British and African-American actors carving out spaces in Hollywood, about how recognition like this was both an honor and a responsibility.

“I didn’t get here alone,” he finished, his rich voice sending a hush over the room. “To every young Black actor watching, to every kid dreaming beyond what they’ve been told is possible—we are the blueprint. And the best is still yet to come.”

Thunderous applause.

Sienna clapped alongside the audience before leaning into the mic. “And on top of all that… he’s also Mufasa.”

The crowd roared with laughter, and Aaron exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head.

Sienna smirked at him. “Had to.”

Aaron gave her a look—amused, but also intrigued. “We’ll talk about this backstage.”

Sienna tilted her head, watching him as he walked off. “Looking forward to it.”

--

The post-win chaos was already unfolding backstage—cameras flashing, journalists waiting for quotes, production assistants ushering talent from one place to another. Aaron had barely had time to process the moment when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Well, well, look at you, Mr. Award Winner.”

Aaron turned.

Sienna Sinclair stood there, arms crossed, watching him with a smirk.

Aaron couldn’t help but let his gaze linger for half a second longer than necessary. “Didn’t expect to see you back here so soon.”

Sienna shrugged. “Had to personally congratulate you. You know, since I had the honor of saying your name on stage.”

Aaron nodded, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. “You did say it well. Very elegant.”

Sienna raised an eyebrow. “I do everything elegantly.”

Aaron exhaled a quiet chuckle. “Not doubting it.”

She tilted her head slightly. “So… how does it feel? Winning?”

Aaron glanced down at the trophy in his hand before looking back at her. “Feels good. But I won’t lie—hearing my name come out of your mouth might’ve been the highlight of the night.”

Sienna sucked her teeth, shaking her head, though there was something in her expression—something that said she wasn’t entirely unaffected by him.

“You’re full of it,” she teased.

Aaron leaned in slightly. “Am I?”

Sienna, ever the quick-witted one, smirked. “Yeah. And I can’t believe you let me call you out in front of everyone like that.”

Aaron shook his head. “The Mufasa jingle?”

Miracle nodded. “You knew I had to bring it up.”

Aaron narrowed his eyes playfully. “You enjoyed that way too much.”

“I did,” she admitted, her smirk widening. “And let’s be real, you love it. Don’t lie, you’ve sung it to yourself at least once.”

Aaron rubbed his jaw, his expression unreadable. “I’m not dignifying that with a response.”

Sienna laughed, tilting her head. “It’s alright, Aaron. Aaron Pierre, that’s Mufasa—it’s got a nice ring to it.”

Aaron exhaled a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You know, it’s unfair how much pleasure you’re getting out of this.”

“Oh, trust me, I could get pleasure out of a lot more than that.”

Aaron’s jaw tightened slightly, the air between them shifting from playful to something heavier.

Sienna’s eyes held his, dark and teasing. “But I’ll let you enjoy your win first.”

Aaron huffed a laugh, nodding. “So generous of you.”

She smirked. “You’re welcome.”

The moment stretched just a second longer than necessary—his gaze still locked with hers, her breath just a little deeper.

From across the backstage area, a production assistant called out to Sienna, signaling that she was needed elsewhere.

She exhaled, shaking her head as she took a step back. “Well, Mufasa, I’ll see you around.”

Aaron tilted his head slightly, watching as she turned and walked away, her presence lingering even after she disappeared from sight.

“Yeah,” he murmured to himself, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “You will.”

[noir-lullaby]

✨ Welcome to "The Spotlight is Ours," a slow-burn, messy Hollywood romance fanfic between Aaron Pierre x Black!OC. ✨

If you love: 🔥 Complicated love stories 🌶️ Tension that makes you scream 🎬 Celebrity drama, public vs. private moments, and secret rendezvous 👀 Toxic entanglements & emotionally unavailable men

Then this series is for you. But be warned—Aaron Pierre is not the perfect man in this. This is a realistic look at fame, attraction, and the kind of love that pulls you in even when you know it’s bad for you.

❌ No smut—just tension, emotions, and all the drama you could ask for. ⚠️ Angst ahead. Read at your own risk.

✨ Reblog if you’re invested, scream in the tags, and let’s get into the mess together. ✨