#shuri fic

[multifariousqueer]

New fic coming soon 👀👀

[demie90s]

Chapter One: The Surface Greets the Depths

Shuri Udaku x Black!Fem!Reader

MORE | NAVI

Summary: After the war with Talokan, Wakanda is still healing when they receive an unexpected signal—from beneath the Earth. Rising from ancient fault lines and forgotten myth, a hidden Black nation reveals itself: Obatalan, an underground civilization thought to be extinct.

Genre: Afrofuturism, slow-burn romance, political drama, sci-fi fantasy

Warnings: cultural conflict, emotional repression, political tension, strong language, grief themes, power imbalance

Word Count: 2k

Vibe: black opulence meets underground mythology • two empires in quiet conflict • unreadable princess vs guarded genius • thick tension • no one trusts anyone (but someone’s falling in love anyway)

It starts with a tremor.

Not one Wakandan can feel, not in their bones, not with their feet pressed to the sacred red earth, but Shuri feels it in the vibranium.

A low, murmuring pulse beneath the core. Like a heartbeat she didn’t know existed. By the time the elders are alerted, it’s already too late to pretend Wakanda stands alone.

An unidentified ship not of Wakandan origin, nor Talokan, rises from a cleft in the mountain floor beneath the Bast border. No engine hum. No sonic booms. It doesn’t fly, it floats, cloaked in ash-toned metal, seamless and ancient. Alive, almost. Breathing with a stillness that makes the sky quiet.

From it emerges them. The Obatalan.

A delegation of eight. All Black. All quiet. Dressed in deep shades of mineral-dyed cloth that shimmer only when the light hits right. No jewelry. No beads. No visible tech.

Their beauty is unadorned. Raw. Standing at the front, tall and unreadable, is you.

Shuri watches from the palace platform, arms folded, teeth gritted. You don’t look like a threat. Not at first glance.

Your skin is dark, glistening under the high sun like you were carved from the richest obsidian. Your frame is lean, almost deceptively delicate, until the light catches the muscle stretched tight beneath your ceremonial robe. You walk like someone who doesn’t need weapons. Like someone who has never lost a fight.

Your hair thick, rich coils pulled into a clean, high updo sits like a crown without needing one. There are small cuts lining the inside of your left arm, healed and darkened like ceremonial scars. Intentional. Controlled. Silent proof of your rites.

You speak to no one as you approach. Even when Queen Ramonda descends the steps of the throne hall herself, regal, poised, radiating patience and power, you offer no smile.

You bow, but not deeply. “Your Majesty,” you say. Your voice is low, even. “I am the Daughter of Depth. I come in peace. With presence.”

Ramonda tilts her head slightly. “Presence alone does not imply peace.”

You lift your chin. “Peace is proven, not promised.”

Behind the queen, Shuri scoffs quietly. You glance at her.

Your eyes, rich and cold like still water, rest on her with mild curiosity. She meets your gaze, but her arms tighten across her chest. She hates how you make her feel. Studied. Measured.

“I assume this is the Panther?” you ask.

“I am Princess Shuri,” she answers flatly.

“You are…shorter than I imagined.”

“…And you are more talkative than I expected a ghost to be.”

Your mouth twitches. Barely. Almost a smile. But it disappears before it fully forms. Ramonda steps forward again, cutting the tension like silk. “Forgive my daughter. She is protective of her nation.”

“She should be.” Your tone is neutral. “We would be, too.”

Inside the palace, the silence thickens.

The Obatalan are given quarters in the northern wing, close, but not too close. Wakandan guards shadow them at every turn. No one quite trusts them. Not yet. Not when they arrive undetected. Not when their tech runs silent and Shuri can’t even trace it with her Kimoyo interface.

It irritates her. The way your body moves without sound. The way you speak several languages but never use more words than needed. The way you scan rooms not with interest, but as if calculating how fast you could bring them all to their knees.

That night, during the diplomatic dinner, she watches you from the far end of the table. Your posture doesn’t change. You don’t eat much. Don’t drink.

But you speak when spoken to. In fluent Wakandan. With accentless precision. Like someone who learned every culture with the same clinical effort it took to master a blade.

“You do not smile much,” Shuri says once, voice low, gaze trained.

“I do not smile on command.”

“Who said it was a command?”

You arch an eyebrow. “You are accustomed to people smiling when you speak, then?”

She blinks. You’ve got her there. “It’s…a habit.”

“You should break it,” you reply smoothly, lifting your cup. “It will save your ego.”

Ramonda nearly chokes on her wine. M’Baku stifles a laugh.

Shuri’s jaw flexes. “You’re enjoying this.”

“No,” you say without pause. “But you are amusing.”

Later that evening, your paths cross again. She’s in the tech corridor, examining seismic readings. Alone. You appear in the doorway like you’ve been there all along.

“You’re tracking us,” you say.

Shuri doesn’t look up. “I’m studying the fault lines.”

“You do not trust us.”

“You showed up out of nowhere. You don’t register on our scans. You could be here to kill us.”

You take a slow step inside. Her back tenses.

“If we were here to kill you,” you murmur, voice calm, “you would not have heard the door open.”

She turns then, fast. Glaring. You’re closer than she thought.

The light catches the skin of your throat, the faint shimmer of old ritual scars wrapping down your collarbone. Your scent is mineral-rich. Earthy. Alive. But cool.

“You’re not what I expected,” Shuri whispers.

“Neither are you,” you reply.

For a moment, you just stand there. Two daughters of two different empires. Two weapons, trained by grief. Measuring each other not by strength, but by silence.

“I don’t appreciate being studied,” she says. Shuri folds her arms again, if only to keep them from twitching.

Your head tilts slightly, that same eerie poise never leaving your spine. “You are Wakandan royalty. Being studied is inevitable.”

“I meant by you.”

Your lips part just enough to let a breath slip through something halfway between amusement and pity. “Then stop making yourself fascinating.”

Shuri stiffens. That wasn’t a flirt. Not fully. But it lingers like one. And for a woman who speaks like a blade being drawn, slow, controlled, deadly, you know exactly what you’re doing.

She clears her throat, turning back toward the interface.

“You should rest. The next summit is in the morning,” Shuri says, voice clipped.

You step closer. “I do not sleep easily above ground,” you murmur.

Shuri glances back at you, confused. “Why?”

You pause. Then you give her something small. Something real.

“The air tastes… thin. There is too much light. Too much silence in the wrong places.”

She studies you now. Not as an intruder. Not as a threat. But as something else something equally armored and isolated. She knows what it’s like to flinch when things are too quiet. Knows the taste of loneliness in sterile rooms.

“You sound like someone who’s never been outside,” Shuri says carefully.

“I have. Just not for peace.”

You both go quiet. For a second, you don’t breathe. Neither does she. Something invisible wraps around the two of you, neither trust nor intimacy, but something between. The sharpness in her face softens. The twitch in your fingers settles.

Then your eyes lower. To her hands. Her wrists. The slight tremor she thinks no one notices when she’s angry.

“You lost someone,” you say, barely above a whisper.

Shuri’s head jerks slightly, her body stiffening. You don’t smile. You don’t press. But you see the way her guard snaps back into place, the way her body becomes all steel and vengeance again.

“Don’t mistake your observations for knowing me,” she says. You nod once. No argument. Just truth.

“I don’t know you. But I have known grief. And I can smell it when it’s still bleeding.”

Shuri doesn’t speak. She can’t. Not with her throat tightening the way it does. You step back before she can process what you’ve given her, before she can ask why it hurt so much to be seen by someone she doesn’t even like.

“I will try to rest,” you say softly. “But do not be alarmed if I’m gone before morning. I rise with the core.”

Then you’re gone. Just like that. No bow. No farewell. Just silence and shadow. Like you never came to the surface at all.

Somewhere else in the palace…

Queen Ramonda watches from a screen. She’s seen every flicker of expression on her daughter’s face. Seen the way her fingers flexed. How her breath caught. How her mouth parted just a little when you turned your back.

She frowns. Not with fear. But recognition.

“She’s dangerous,” Okoye says from behind her. Ramonda hums.

“Yes,” the queen murmurs. “But so is Shuri.” That, more than anything, is what scares her.

The sun feels too sharp here.

That’s your first thought as you walk beside Shuri, the gold trim of your robe catching the light you never asked for. The palace grounds are beautiful vibrant gardens, glimmering water channels, humming vibranium nodes beneath every step, but they are too open. You hate it.

So do your people. Though Queen Ramonda had extended every courtesy, Obatalan’s delegation rarely left their wing. They were free to roam. That much was true. But permission meant nothing without comfort. And the surface was not made for your kind.

“It’s not prison if you choose the cage,” Shuri mutters beside you, noticing your silence.

You glance over at her. “Are we caged now?”

“No,” she replies, her hands behind her back. “But I find it interesting. You all arrived without warning, but when offered trust, you hide.”

You hum quietly. “Maybe trust cannot be offered like a trinket.”

Shuri side-eyes you. “You’re not as cold as you pretend to be.”

“And you are not as healed as you pretend to be.”

She stops walking. Jaw tight. Breathing shallow. You pause too. Not out of regret. You didn’t say it to hurt her. You said it because it’s written all over her. Grief doesn’t need translation.

Before either of you can speak again, someone crashes—hard, into your left side. A loud thud. You blink, confused, because you barely felt it.

You turn slowly… and find a grown man flat on the ground. Easily 6’3”, built, probably pushing 250 pounds. He’s rubbing his shoulder, staring at you like he ran headfirst into a vibranium wall.

Shuri’s already rushing forward, eyebrows raised. “Mfazi omkhulu, are you okay?”

The man doesn’t answer right away. Just stares at you. Because you’re not fazed. At all.

You glance down at him, confused. Your brow furrows like you’re trying to figure out how he ended up there. You heard the thud before you felt anything. Only then did you realize he hit your shoulder.

“My apologies,” you say evenly, stepping forward. “I did not see you.”

You reach out one hand and grasp his forearm. And lift. Not like it’s hard. Not like he’s grown. Like he’s nothing.

The fabric of your robe stretches slightly at the shoulder, showing the way your forearm muscle tightens beneath the layered weave.

There’s no strain in your face. No grunt. You lift him like you’re pouring a glass of water, balanced, barely breaking rhythm.

Shuri watches all of it. Her mouth slightly parted. Her eyes dragging over the line of your bicep. The subtle flex. The mechanical precision of your movement. Not robotic just exact. Like your body only moves when it means to.

The man stumbles to his feet, stunned. “I..I didn’t mean to..”

You nod once. “No harm is done.”

He backs away like you might crack the ground beneath him. You turn back toward Shuri, adjusting your robe like nothing happened. She’s staring.

“What?” you ask.

“You picked up a full-grown man like he was… tissue.”

“He wasn’t,” you say. “He was just unbalanced.”

Shuri squints. “Are all of you… like that?”

You hesitate.

“Only some of us. The ones chosen young. The ones who can withstand the ceremony.”

Shuri frowns. “What ceremony?”

You don’t answer. You just start walking again. Shuri doesn’t follow right away. She watches the place where your robe brushed the air, the outline of your shoulder still burned into her mind.

For the first time since your arrival, she realizes something she hasn’t wanted to admit: She’s no longer trying to figure you out because you’re dangerous.

She’s trying because she can’t stop looking.

@letsnowtalk @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog @kaliblazin @liloandstitchstan @footy-lover264 @yorubagirlsworld @daffodil-darlings @h4untedghOul @followthesvn @hibiscusblu @sevikasleftbicep @swiftie4evr @babyphatbrat @sivensblog @beeop223 @huntedghOul @tpwkrosalinda @lightsgore @em-nems @salemsuccss @villain-ryuk @ihrtsarahstrOng @liyahh037 @sillystarv @somedetailsinthefabric @essence-134340 @mochelisgf @soph1asticated @heheievidbri @unvswrld @breezybellab @planet-ghoulborne @art-ofmusic @toorealrai @mrsarnold @prettyyyinblack

[demie90s]

Please Stay

Shuri Udaku x Black!Fem!Reader

NAVI | MORE | Part 1

Summary: You were chosen for a prestigious Wakandan outreach program for promising youth in tech, science, and innovation. A dream opportunity—except Princess Shuri hates you. Or pretends to. You’re not sure which is worse.

Word Count: ~ 2.1k

Genre: Slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, academic rivalry, mutual pining

Warnings: Petty insults, academic tension, mutual jealousy, background family meddling

Shuri was moody the week she had to leave.

Which wasn’t news to anyone—Shuri was always a little grumpy when she had to play Princess in public instead of Queen of Her Lab—but this time, it was different.

This time, she was short with everyone. Snapped at Griot. Slammed her tools down more than once. And if she thought no one noticed the way her eyes kept flicking to you during her prep meetings, she was sorely mistaken.

You, of course, pretended not to notice.

You did notice. You noticed everything. But you weren’t the type to make things sentimental. Especially when she didn’t know how to say how she felt.

So when she sighed loud as hell and asked for the fourth time if the “nanoparticle batch was stable enough to survive without your constant supervision,” you didn’t even look up.

“They’ll survive,” you muttered. “You might not, but they will.”

“I am being serious,” she said flatly.

“So am I.”

She glared at you. You just smirked.

She left without a hug.

Not that you expected one. But it still stuck with you, the way she paused in the doorway of the main lab, turned her head slightly like she might say something… and then didn’t.

Then she was gone. The palace was quieter without her.

Not just her voice but her presence. Her pacing. Her muttering. The hum of her tech moving before she did. You had your space back, sure, but it didn’t feel right. Even the way your bench was angled, tilted toward where hers used to be felt off now.

But you worked. Of course you worked. It’s what you both did best.

You had just finished patching a fault line in the vibranium lens calibrator, hunched over your table with one knee in the chair and your tongue between your teeth, when the door hissed open behind you.

You didn’t look up. Probably another intern or technician. Until you felt arms wrap around you from behind. Not awkward. Not overly familiar. Just… home.

You blinked, hands freezing mid-code.

“…Huh?” you said, not alarmed—just surprised. “What did I miss?”

No answer. Just a sharp inhale near your neck, a longer-than-usual squeeze, and the weight of Shuri’s forehead pressing against your shoulder like she’d finally exhaled after holding her breath for a week.

Your fingers twitched on the keypad. You smiled.

“So you did miss me,” you said quietly, lips curling. She didn’t move. Didn’t deny it. Didn’t have to.

———————————————————————————————

When she finally pulled back, she was flustered. You could tell—eyes darting, jaw clenched, voice too clipped.

“I thought you’d meet me at the gate,” she said, brushing invisible lint off your arm.

“I was working,” you said, faux-innocent. “Didn’t know you were coming back today.”

“You knew.”

“I forgot.”

Her eyes narrowed. You grinned. The lab wasn’t empty, but Shuri acted like it was.

Two junior developers blinked awkwardly in the corner, clearly not expecting the Princess of Wakanda to show up and wrap herself around someone like a glitchy magnet. Even Griot seemed to be holding his breath, which was saying something for an AI.

You sat back in your chair, fingers laced behind your head, eyes on her.

“You like… wanna kiss me or something?”

She blinked. “What?”

You tilted your head, gaze smug. “I’ll take that as an absolutely sorta kinda.”

She frowned, mouth parting. “I’m con—”

You leaned in. No warning. Just a light peck on her lips—quick, clean, warm. Then you turned back to your screen like nothing happened.

Shuri stood still for a full two seconds. Then, softly, incredulously. “You kissed me.”

You didn’t look up. “You looked like you needed it.”

“I..” Her hands moved like she didn’t know where to put them. “You…”

“You’re welcome.”

From the corner of the lab, one of the interns made the fatal mistake of giggling. Griot’s voice crackled in amused observation. “Confirmed: simulated heart rate increase in Princess Shuri detected—”

“Shut up,” she snapped. You giggled on purpose this time.

Later, when the interns cleared out and the lights dimmed to their evening settings, she sat beside you without asking. You didn’t talk. Didn’t touch. But her knee stayed pressed against yours under the table. Every time she shifted, her hand brushed your elbow. Every time you stood, she followed.

She didn’t say she missed you. She didn’t have to. You didn’t make it a thing.

But that night, when you leaned against the console to stretch and she instinctively reached to steady you with a hand at your waist just for a second you didn’t flinch.

You just let her. Like always.

Shuri had no real reason to come with you. You told her this plainly. Standing at the palace gate, bag in hand, sunglasses on, calm.

“I’m going home for three days,” you said. “Not to war. Not to battle. Not to a rogue AI insurgency. Just to Atlanta.”Which, okay could be all three if you hit the right block but still.

“I’m going,” she’d said simply, like she wasn’t already packed. “The city is-”

“Dangerous?” you finished, laughing. “Girl, I grew up there.”

“All the more reason to be cautious.”

You just looked at her. “You’re the head of Wakandan technology. You fought in the Infinity War. And you’re worried about… Little Five Points?”

She didn’t flinch. You sighed. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thank you.”

Truth be told, you didn’t mind having her with you.

Your family adored her. Your little cousin cried when she saw her in person. Your aunt asked if she was single, and you thought about committing a felony on the spot. And your mom, God bless her soul had the nerve to say, “You two act married. But you’re not fooling anyone.”

You choked on your tea. Shuri looked away, pretending not to hear. So no, you didn’t mind the way she followed you around like she belonged there. It was kind of cute. Kind of… us.

But what you didn’t expect was how territorial she’d get outside of Wakanda. Or how quick.

The store was just a corner spot local, Black-owned, small enough to feel like home and stocked enough to make your New York friends jealous. You went in for ginger and hibiscus tea. Shuri followed without question.

You could feel her trailing you down the aisles, quiet, composed. Her fingers brushed your wrist once when you reached for a jar.

You didn’t think anything of it. Until it happened.

He was tall. Too tall. Jeans too tight, voice too smooth. The kind of man who never learned to respect boundaries and thought charm could hide it.

“Hey lil mama,” he said, and that already had you rolling your eyes. “I ain’t mean to stare but… you real pretty. You from around here?”

You blinked, confused. Not at the flirting but at the timing. You weren’t alone. Shuri was right there. Or at least, she had been right there. So when you turned to find her gone from your side, you froze.

The guy kept talking. “You got one of them smiles that make people crash the car.”

You blinked once. “That…that’s concerning.”

And just like that poof. He was gone. Like actually gone. No footsteps. No goodbye. Just vanished.

You stood there, holding your tea tin, eyes narrowing. “Shuri…” Nothing.

You called again. “Shuri.”

She appeared by the fridge section, casual as ever, holding a kombucha bottle like nothing happened.

“Nothing,” she said smoothly. “Is that all you’re getting?”

You squinted. “What did you do?”

“I asked a question.”

“Where’d he go?”

She shrugged, already turning toward the register. You laughed, low and slow. “Wow.”

“What?”

“You’re fast.”

“Mm.”

“You’re scary.”

She smiled then. Real small. Real pleased with herself. It didn’t stop there.

Back in the car, you reached for the aux cord and she leaned over, hand brushing your thigh like it was nothing. You watched her, but she didn’t blink. At the next stoplight, she rested her hand on your knee.

When you leaned back to grab your bag in the backseat, she hooked her fingers in your waistband to pull you back.

You didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. But when you got home and sat on the couch, she didn’t sit beside you.

She sat behind you. Legs on either side of your hips. Arms around your waist. Chin tucked against your shoulder.

“Atlanta’s dangerous, huh?” you teased.

“I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Oh yeah,” you said, reaching back to touch her thigh. “Deadly.”

She kissed the side of your neck once, slow. You bit your lip.

Later, when your mom walked in and saw her practically wrapped around you while you sorted laundry, she just nodded and said, “Told you. Married.”

Shuri didn’t even argue. Just held you tighter. Shuri had changed.

Not all at once, but slowly. Like heat cooling or stars fading into dawn. She didn’t argue anymore not really. She still had her sharp tongue, her elegant eye rolls, her You’re being irrational tone but she rarely used them on you now.

These days, if you snapped, she went quiet. If you walked away, she followed silently, patiently, like your shadow belonged to her. If you were overwhelmed, annoyed, frustrated?

She just… softened. Offered things without asking. Rubbed your temples with the pads of her thumbs. Read your code when you were too tired to debug.

It was strange. At first, you thought she was letting you win. But it wasn’t that. It was something else.

“You don’t like seeing me upset anymore,” you muttered once, forehead pressed to her shoulder after a long day.

She said nothing. Just pulled you closer. It had only happened once—the sleepover.

Not planned. Not romantic. Just two girls in a lab too late, too long, until the lights dimmed and you both fell asleep across the same bench, breathing slow and uneven. You’d woken up with her coat covering you, her arm curled around your side like it had been there for centuries.

You never talked about it. But it happened. And that was enough.

You didn’t knock. You didn’t text. You didn’t even hesitate.

You just walked past the guards, past the AI systems, through the palace wing quickly. No one stopped you. Not one glare, not one raised voice. Just respectful silence and a few exchanged looks—some amused, some resigned.

Everyone knew. Even if you didn’t. Her room was quiet when you entered.

Not cold. Not sterile. But hers. Neat. Sharp. Rich blues and clean whites. Open balcony door. One lamp still glowing.

Shuri, dead asleep in the center of the bed, black tank top, one leg kicked out, arm thrown over her pillow like she’d fought a war in her dreams.

You padded in soft, slow. No sound. Not until you slid onto the bed and kissed her cheek. She flinched. Mumbled. Turned her head but didn’t wake. You kissed her again. This time at the corner of her mouth.

“Hi,” you whispered. “I missed you.” No answer.

You curled against her side, legs tangled, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “I made ugali with that one chef from the eastern wing. It was dry. I lied and told him it was good.”

Still nothing.

“I think you’re spoiled,” you continued. “All this love and affection and access to vibranium. Like…girl, I’m literally laying in your bed uninvited. What kind of power trip is this?”

Shuri made a soft sound. Not quite awake. Not quite dreaming. You kissed her again. Nose to nose this time.

“You know,” you said, voice low, “you never even asked me to be your girlfriend.” Her brows twitched.

“Oh?” she said groggily. “Is that what you want me to do?” You paused. Grinned.

“Honey,” you whispered, “the things I want you to do aren’t respectful enough to say out loud—uhhhh SHURI THE WOMAN YOU ARE—”

She kissed you. Fully, properly, finally.

Still half-asleep, yes, but her hand came up to cup your jaw with unshaken precision, and her lips pressed to yours with more intent than her waking body should’ve had.

You melted into it. When she pulled back, eyes still closed, she whispered, “Then don’t say them. Just show me.”

The night passed like a dream you wouldn’t admit to having. You didn’t sleep much. Just stayed curled against her chest, murmuring nonsense, fingers tracing the edge of her tank strap like it was the only thing keeping your sanity in check.

She drifted in and out of sleep, answering half your sentences, ignoring the rest, but never once pushing you away.

She never even asked why you came. She didn’t have to.

When dawn painted pale gold across her sheets, and you whispered, “I love you, you know that right?” just to mess with her. She didn’t open her eyes.

Didn’t move. Just said. “I know. Go to sleep.” And you did. Right there. In her arms.

@letsnowtalk @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog @kaliblazin @liloandstitchstan @footy-lover264 @yorubagirlsworld @daffodil-darlings @h4untedghOul @followthesvn @hibiscusblu @sevikasleftbicep @swiftie4evr @babyphatbrat @sivensblog @beeop223 @huntedghOul @tpwkrosalinda @lightsgore @em-nems @salemsuccss @villain-ryuk @ihrtsarahstrOng @liyahh037 @sillystarv @somedetailsinthefabric @essence-134340 @mochelisgf @soph1asticated @heheievidbri @unvswrld @breezybellab @planet-ghoulborne @art-ofmusic @toorealrai @mrsarnold @prettyyyinblack

[demie90s]

Ask and you shall receive 😌

Kwn - Back of the Club gives me Shuri. Wakanda’s night life has got to be it. Only black people, no problems, and vibranium, they’re having a time. And Shuri has self restraint as reliable as a rubber band 😭 They can’t go back to the castle? lab? idk what its called, so the back of the club and a cigarette is all she’s got. Plus the newfound gay freedom she must have in some sense has to be explored. My wish for Shuri is peace and to get laid. 😂💋

I Want You

Shuri Udaku x Black!Fem!Reader

MORE

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Wakanda’s nightlife doesn’t need clout, it is the moment. Shuri came to disappear into the lights for one night—nothing more. But when she sees you? Yeah. Nah. She’s not walking out untouched.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: ~ 3.1k

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: club tension, queer awakening, sneaky rendezvous, slow burn turned fast heat, post-royalty problems

ᴠɪʙᴇ: Glitter on your collarbone. Bass in your chest. Her hands on your waist. Just a little taste of freedom she wasn’t supposed to want this bad.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT. explicit language, sexual content (fingering, grinding, public play), mentions of queer repression, smoking, tension so thick M’Baku could cut it with a blade

I feel her before I see her.

It’s in the air shift—the kind that makes your skin tighten, the hairs on your arms lift. Wakanda’s nightlife is a thing of legend: glowing streets, gold-threaded silks, bass so deep it could rattle bone. But tonight, it’s her that hums beneath the surface. Not the music. Not the crowd. Just Shuri.

I see her near the DJ booth, chin high, posture tight like she’s bracing for war—but wearing that war in a cropped vest and low-slung pants that don’t belong to any royal decree. Her arms are bare.

So are her eyes. Sharp and soft all at once, scanning the room like she dares someone to name her title.

She finds me. And rolls her eyes. I grin, leaning back against the bar like I didn’t just catch the wind knocked out of me. “Queen,” I mouth.

She doesn’t wave. Doesn’t nod. But her lips twitch. It’s enough.

I don’t go to her. Not yet. Instead, I dance. The floor moves like water, and I let it carry me. Body rolling slow, arms grazing strangers, sweat turning to shimmer under the lights. I want her to watch. And I know she is. Because when I finally drift closer—pretending I don’t notice how the circle parts to let me through—her gaze is molten.

“You’re outside,” I murmur, close enough to kiss but I don’t.

“Only for a moment,” she says. Her voice is low. Careful. Like she’s scared of spilling.

“I missed you.”

Her eyes flick over me like she doesn’t believe that. “You didn’t act like it.”

I shrug. “You had a country to save. I wasn’t about to compete with national security.”

That gets a breath out of her. Not quite a laugh, but something human. Something cracking.

We dance. Slowly at first. Close, but not too close. She moves like someone who’s been away from her body too long. Calculated steps. Intentional distance.

I don’t push. I let her settle. Let her feel me—hips loose, neck tilted, rhythm already pulsing through my spine.

But then I graze her wrist. Just barely. And she exhales like a fault line. Her hands find my waist before her mind does. I feel it. That snap.

Shuri was never shy. But this is different. It’s hunger masquerading as curiosity. Her fingers grip like she’s forgotten what softness feels like.

Like she’s starved for it. And when she pulls me flush, when our chests meet and she exhales against my collarbone like it’s sacred—It’s over.

She doesn’t speak. Just moves with me. We melt into shadow, into sweat, into music thick enough to drown in. Our foreheads touch. Her breath is hot against my lips but she still won’t kiss me. Not yet. Like it’ll mean too much.

“You smoke now?” I ask, noticing the slender silver case peeking from her waistband.

“Not often,” she says. “Just… when I need to remember I’m not a god.”

“Come on.”

I take her hand. She lets me.

Outside, the air bites cool against damp skin. We find the alley behind the club—tucked between stone walls and low vines, gold-lit from behind but dim in front. It smells like sweat and dust and possibility.

She leans against the wall like it’s the only thing holding her up.

“Give me one,” I say.

She raises a brow. “You don’t smoke.”

“I’m mourning something too.”

Her jaw clenches. Then she hands me the cigarette, lights it for me. Her fingers brush my lips as she holds the flame steady. I inhale, exhale. Pass it back.

“I’m sorry I left you,” she says suddenly. Quiet. Unflinching. “I didn’t know how to be anything but… the crown.”

I nod. “You didn’t have to explain. I would’ve stayed anyway.”

“I know,” she says. “That’s why I left.”

I look at her, really look. And there it is—grief sitting behind her eyes like an old friend. But so is want. Raw. Heavy. Unhidden.

I step in, tilting my head just enough to force her gaze to mine.“You need to be touched,” I whisper.

Her breath hitches. “And I know how to touch royalty.”

She lets out a small laugh, almost a scoff. But I see her hands. They’re shaking. Not from fear. From restraint. That tight coil she’s had to live with for months—maybe years—just to survive. But here, now? There’s no council. No war. No lab.

Just the night. The beat still throbbing through the walls. And me. “Nikupende.” she says under her breath. Voice broken open.

My lips part. “What does that mean?” She finally looks at me like she’s drowning.

“I want you.”

She’s looking at me like she wants to crawl inside my chest.

Like the beat from the club is still in her, pulsing through every nerve. Her body’s taut, jaw clenched, but her hands are back on my hips, and this time—she’s not letting go.

“I want you,” she says again, this time steadier. Firmer. But I don’t move. Not yet.

“You sure?”

She frowns. “Yes.”

I tilt my head. “No, I mean—are you sure? You just came back from leading a war. I know you’re tired. I know you haven’t… touched anybody in a while. I’m not tryna take advantage of that.”

Her face softens just a fraction. Then flattens again into amused irritation. “You think I don’t know what I want?”

“No,” I say quickly. “I think you’re full of grief. I think you’re used to people needing you, not wanting you. And I think you’re about two seconds from kissing me to shut me up.”

Her eye twitches. Then she kisses me. It’s hard. Hot. Immediate. But when we break, I’m still not done.

“You don’t owe me anything, Shuri.”

She groans. “S’thandwa sami. Please.”

My eyes widen. “Did you just call me—”

“Yes.” She drags her mouth along my jaw, then my ear. “And you’ll hear it again if you stop overthinking.”

“But—”

She grabs my face. Kisses me again, softer this time. Then murmurs against my lips, “I want to feel something that isn’t duty.”

That’s all I need.

The alley’s too public. So we don’t go far—just into the private lounge behind the building, past the guards who don’t ask questions, into the space meant for royals and visiting dignitaries. It smells like sandalwood and citrus, and the couches are too soft for anything appropriate.

She drops onto one and pulls me with her, long legs spreading as I straddle her thighs. We don’t rush. I cup her jaw, running my thumb along her cheek like she’s breakable. She closes her eyes.

“I got you,” I whisper. “I swear I got you.”

When our mouths meet again, it’s slow. Our tongues move like we’ve got all night—wet and patient, letting each other taste what we missed. Her hands settle on my back, under my shirt, warm and sure now. Not shaking. Just pulling me closer.

My fingers ghost along her sides. Her breath catches.

“Still good?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes. “Yes.”

I lean back. “You can say no at any time.”

She actually laughs. “If I didn’t want this, you’d already be gone.”

She spreads her fingers across my chest, like she’s memorizing me. Like she’s grateful. I let her. Let her touch. Let her relearn the world through skin instead of blood.

Her lips find my collarbone. Then the center of my chest. Each kiss is a question and a thank you rolled into one.

“I’ve never done this… like this,” she murmurs.

“Like what?”

“Where it feels like I might cry and cum at the same time.”

I grin. “Then I’m doing it right.”

She moans—low and breathy—as I guide her hand between my thighs.

“Feel how warm I am for you?” I whisper. Her breath stutters.

“You still want this?” She doesn’t answer with words.

Kkeeping my forehead pressed to hers. “Go slow, baby. You don’t have to be strong right now.”

“I don’t want to be,” she admits. “Not with you.”

She notices the dress when I straddle her again—short, sleek, sinful. Black like night. Like secrets. The hem rides up just enough to tease the tops of my thighs, and when I shift, she feels everything.

Her breath catches. “You’re not wearing anything under this.”

“Didn’t plan on needing them,” I whisper.

She lets out a low groan, head falling back against the velvet cushion like she’s praying for strength. Her hands grip my waist and slide down, under the dress, fingertips dragging over skin that’s already burning.

“Do you always come to see me like this?” she asks, voice hoarse.

“Only when I think you might need to forget you’re queen for a minute.”

Her eyes flick up, dark and focused. “And what does that make you? My subject?”

I smile. “Your peace.”

Something shifts in her face. That one hit too close to the truth.

She doesn’t say anything else. Just tilts her head and kisses the inside of my thigh—slow and deliberate. Then again. Higher this time.

Until I’m gasping softly, gripping her shoulders like she might disappear if I don’t hold tight enough.

“You’re already trembling,” she murmurs.

“Because you’re the one touching me.”

Another kiss, this one just beneath the swell of me. Hot breath skating over wet skin. My hips twitch.

She looks up. “Tell me to stop.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Her tongue finally licks a slow line up my center and I shudder. Her hands slide around to grip my thighs, keeping me wide, grounded, spread just for her. There’s nothing messy about it. Not yet. Just lips and tongue and reverence.

Like she’s tasting something holy.

“Mm,” she hums softly against me. “S’thandwa sami. You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

I bite my lip. “You eat like you been starved.”

“I have been.”

Another. This one firmer. My back arches.

Her mouth moves with aching precision—like she’s learning me, memorizing me, savoring every moan I give her like it’s the only sound she wants to hear.

She’s slow, intentional, patient with her pressure. And when she locks her lips around my clit, she groans like I belong to her.

Like she’s anchoring herself in the way I taste. I push her head gently, thighs trembling around her ears. “Fuck baby…”

“Shhh,” she murmurs against me. “Let me.”

I fall back, eyes fluttering, dress bunched around my waist, and her mouth still devoted. She holds my thighs open like a job. Like her life depends on it.

It does. Just a little. Because with every flick of her tongue, every hum, every praise she whispers into me like a prayer, I feel her unraveling. The tension bleeding out of her, replaced with heat. With want. With need.

“You feel so good,” she moans. “You’re so soft. So warm. You’re mine tonight.”

I cry out. My hips grind down. She growls. Then I’m close. Closer than I should be. But it’s her voice—deep, honeyed, reverent—that pushes me over.

“That’s it, baby. Let go. I’ve got you. I need to have you.”

I do. Shuddering. Fingers curled in her hair, legs locking around her head as I fall apart against her mouth.

She stays there. Doesn’t let up. Doesn’t stop kissing me even as I come down—soft licks, gentle suckles, tiny praises between breaths.

“You’re incredible,” she says, voice wrecked. “You’re—” She kisses the inside of my thigh. “More than I should ever touch.” Another kiss. “But I’m going to keep touching you.”

I hum, breathless. “Then keep going.”

She looks up at me with wet lips, flushed cheeks, and something dangerous in her eyes.

“Don’t tell me that,” she says. “I’ll make you come again.”

I smile lazily, pulling her up by the collar.

“I’d love that.”

She’s still panting when I pull her up from between my thighs. Lips slick. Eyes hooded. My dress is still hiked up around my waist, but I don’t care. I let her sit back on the couch, catching her breath like she didn’t just try to taste her way into my soul.

But it’s my turn now.

She doesn’t even have time to speak before I swing my leg around, straddling her again. I press soft kisses to her neck, her jaw, just behind her ear. Her hands rest heavy on my thighs, but she doesn’t guide me. Not yet. She lets me move.

“You good?” I whisper.

She nods, eyes fluttering. “Better than good.”

I grin. “Still gonna ask.”

She opens her mouth to sass me, probably. But I shut it with a kiss. Deep. Slow. I taste myself on her tongue and moan into it. She groans, fingers digging into my hips.

When I pull back, I whisper, “Lay down for me.”

Her eyes darken. “You sure?”

“You just made me come on your face,” I say with a soft smirk. “I’m very sure.”

She chuckles, but there’s heat there—surprise, too. Like she’s not used to being handled. Not like this.

I guide her down, slow. Kiss her the whole way. Hands on her ribs, then her sides, then her waistband. I don’t rush. I drag her pants down like I’m unwrapping something rare. Something forbidden.

She lets me. Lets me kneel between her legs, lets me push her thighs apart, lets me kiss the inside of her knee, her inner thigh, the curve of her hipbone.

I look up. “You’re beautiful like this.”

Her jaw tightens. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Say it like you mean it.”

“I do.”

Her breath catches. Her hips twitch under my hands.

I kiss her again—lower this time. “You need this, don’t you?” She nods, barely.

“Say it.”

“I need it,” she whispers.

“Who you need?”

“You.”

“Good.”

Then I dive in. No teasing now. No light licks or shy kisses. I eat like I’m trying to make her forget. Like her pussy’s the last meal I’ll ever get. I suck on her clit like I own it. Sloppy, messy, loud.

My tongue slides everywhere—inside her, around her, circling like I’m drawing constellations between her legs. She gasps—back arching, hands flying to my hair. “Fuck!”

That’s right. Fuck.

She tries to stay quiet. Royal. Controlled. But I don’t let her. I moan against her. Suck harder. Grip her thighs and pull her closer like I’m drowning in her and loving it.

“Shit—baby, wait,” she pants. “You—you…”

I hum against her. “Mmm?”

“Fuck”

I chuckle. Keep going. Faster now. Sloppier. My face is buried so deep I’m not even coming up for air. Her slick is everywhere. All over my chin, my nose, my cheeks. And I love it.

She’s shaking. Legs trembling.

“You gone come for me?” I murmur against her clit, flicking my tongue just the way she needs.

“Yes—yes, yes, yes!”

Her back arches off the couch. Her thighs clamp around my head. I don’t stop. I can’t stop. Not when she’s like this—voice cracking, body twitching, mouth open in something between a sob and a moan.

“Shit—don’t stop!”

She falls apart. Hard. Wet. Loud. My name stumbles out of her mouth like she can’t hold it in anymore. I keep licking through it, swallowing everything she gives me, moaning into her like I want her to feel me from the inside out.

When she finally relaxes, boneless and dazed, I press one more kiss to her clit—gentle now. Then her thigh. Then her stomach as I crawl back up.

Her chest is heaving. Face flushed. Eyes glassy.

“Still good?” I whisper.

She nods slowly, then pulls me into a kiss that says everything. Her tongue tastes like herself now. Like she wants more. Like she might not ever let me go.

“You’re gonna ruin me,” she breathes.

I smile against her mouth. “That’s the plan.”

She’s still breathing heavy when I tuck a kiss beneath her ear. Her body’s relaxed under me, but I can feel the tension curling back in—not stress, not grief, just the heat of need. Still humming through her bloodstream like she ain’t even halfway satisfied.

I stroke her side. “You okay?”

She nods slowly, then turns her face toward mine. Her eyes are lazy, warm, and hungry.

“Not here.”

I blink. “Huh?”

“I want to take you home.”

It’s not even a question. It’s barely a whisper. But it hits like a full-body chill.

I smile. “Yeah?”

She nods. “This couch too small. These walls too public. And you…” Her voice drops. “You make me greedy.”

“You sure you’re ready for that?”

She exhales a laugh. “You just sucked the strength out my legs and kissed me like we were married. I’m already in too deep.”

I grin, cheeks warm. “Say less.”

I help her up—she wobbles a bit, grabs my waist for balance, and mutters something sharp in Xhosa that makes me laugh.

“See? Weak in the knees.”

“Shut up,” she mumbles. “Wait ‘til I get you horizontal. I’m reclaiming the throne.”

“Oh, I’m scared.”

“You should be.”

We don’t waste time. The guards are still outside, but she waves them off with a sharp flick of her hand. One glance at her swollen lips, at the way I’m clinging to her arm in this little black dress, and they know better than to ask questions.

The hover transport is quiet. Smooth. She keeps one hand on my thigh the whole ride—thumb stroking soft circles like she’s grounding herself, like she needs to touch me to stay upright. Her other hand eventually slides up, fingers weaving with mine.

“You okay?” I whisper, squeezing her palm.

She nods once, eyes locked on mine. “For the first time in a long time.”

The palace glows under the moonlight—slick and elegant, but cold in the way royal things always are. Until we walk in, and she leads me past the halls and empty corridors to her private wing. Her room smells like sage and sandalwood.

The bed’s massive. The lights adjust to her mood the second the doors close. That’s when I see it.

Her shoulders drop. Not in defeat. In release. She’s safe now. And she brought me into it.

I step in front of her, reaching up to tug her shirt over her head. She lifts her arms wordlessly. Then kisses me slow. Deep. No rush. Just home.

“Shuri,” I whisper between breaths, “you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure,” she says, thumb brushing my bottom lip. “I’m tired of holding back. Tonight, I want to feel everything. With you.”

My heart thumps. “Then let me make you feel it again.”

Her mouth finds mine once more. We fall into bed, tangle ourselves into the sheets, and this time, we don’t need to be quiet.

In the morning, the crown will still be hers. But tonight she’s just mine. I plan to keep it that way.

@letsnowtalk @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog @kaliblazin @liloandstitchstan @footy-lover264 @yorubagirlsworld @daffodil-darlings @h4untedghOul @followthesvn @hibiscusblu @sevikasleftbicep @swiftie4evr @babyphatbrat @sivensblog @beeop223 @huntedghOul @tpwkrosalinda @lightsgore @em-nems @salemsuccss @villain-ryuk @ihrtsarahstrOng @liyahh037 @sillystarv @somedetailsinthefabric @essence-134340 @mochelisgf @soph1asticated @heheievidbri @unvswrld @breezybellab @planet-ghoulborne @art-ofmusic @toorealrai @mrsarnold @prettyyyinblack

[blkgworlamplified]

VIBES DON'T LIE Pt. 6

Pairing: Letitia Wright x Black!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k+

Contains: Sexual content, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drugs, explicit language, angst, and fluff (If you squint).

A/n: Enjoy your read! :)

Divider: © 𝐓𝐎𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 2024

★★★★★

A soft white glow from the moonlight was cast upon the floor-to-ceiling windows, that boast the skyline view. The alarm clock on the nightstand took on a bluish hue as light and shadow mixed. The TV and an opulent fireplace bring murmuring voices and light onto the cold walls. Knees are brought to her chest as she looks towards the window, fighting back silent tears. The smooth bitter taste of cold bottled cranberry juice hits her tongue as Tish eyes the sleeping body beside her. 

“What have I done?” Intricate memories of shared adventures, stolen glances, and whispered secrets weave her daydreams. The comfort of your presence, lingering gazes, and the inside jokes she treasured. She’d spent the afternoon in deep thought of what could’ve been or what maybe could still be. The soft chime of her phone brings her from her thoughts. Swiftly grabbing the phone from her sweatpants, she looks at the notification, only for her brows to furrow.

Hayden: Meet me on the roof in 10.

She glances around the room before responding.

Tish: 👍

She lets the screen on her phone turn black and pockets it, looking beside her.

“Fidji? Fi?” Tish says, slightly shaking her awake. Fidji groans, pulling the covers up further over her body. 

“I’m going out,” she gets out of bed and walks over to her closet. Waving her hand in a swatting motion.

 “Yeah, okay,” Fidji says, groggy.

She slid on her sneakers and ambled into the living room, grabbing her coat off the couch. A half-read book lays upside down on the arm of the couch. Turning it over she sees “Halsbury’s Laws of England 1985,” written as the title. Fidji was in her last year of law school and had been at Tish’s place for the past two days, studying for an upcoming exam. Sighing, she places the book on the table and picks up a half-filled coffee mug from its coaster. 

Walking down the spacious hallway and into the kitchen, she opens the dishwasher and places the mug inside, turning it on. She leans her back on the counter, head hanging low. Her hands rub across her face as she exhales deeply and slides on her jacket, grabbing her keys from the counter. She walks to the front door, turning off the lamp on the end table. Looking in the mirror, she gives herself a once-over before pulling her hood over her head and walking out the door. 

✄╰U╯

You are surrounded by a large crowd. People are being dropped off, and others waiting for passengers to arrive. The transit station wasn’t usually this crowded as it was nighttime and most people preferred to board earlier in the day. Cigarette butts and old gum patches litter the ground. The gust of wind from the passing train licks your fingertips as you stand in front of the set of silver lockers. 

You toss the key in your hand, nibbling on your bottom lip. Clearing your throat you insert the key into Dropbox #34, turning it slowly. Upon opening it you knit your brows together, running your tongue across your teeth. Leisurely closing and then opening your eyes, you slowly grab the yellow sticky note plastered on the back of the locker. 

Running your eyes across the words: “Drop the key in the garbage can on the second floor, third corridor.” 

Glancing at the overhead walkway, you slide the envelope in, closing it quickly and turning the key. The sound of metal locking sends stares towards you. Blinking, you give a tight-lipped smile, wrapping your left hand around the key and sliding it into your pocket.

The garbage can comes into view as you reach the top of the second set of stairs. You pace to the trash can, swiftly throwing away the key. The chiming of your phone startles you. Pulling out your phone you see a text message from an unknown number reading: “Smart choice!” Swallowing hard, you continue down the nearby staircase. An uneasy feeling dances throughout your abdomen as your eyes dart across the passing faces. 

You’d felt as if you were being watched ever since you stepped out of your Uber. Nobody but Bsf/n knew you were going to the station. She’d told you the day prior, to have Leo drive you just to be on the safe side, which was something you didn’t do. Here you stand waiting for yet another Uber. You were prepared as you already knew you're gonna get hell for it, especially from Leo.

Leaves swirling in the air, doing barrel rolls in the wind. A web of clouds backlit by the full moon, mist billowed through the skeletal trees that had lost their leaves. The black branches traced the blue-black heavens overhead as the stars were remote pinpricks. You adjust your beanie and coat collar, attempting to protect yourself from the sudden change in weather.

As you begin to walk, searching for the car, the ringing of your phone brings you to a halt. Grabbing it out of your pocket, you see that it’s Jojo and answer. 

“Hey, what’s up?” You question.

“Nothing much! I was just in Chinatown….and I wanted to know if you were down to go to an art museum?”

“Girl it’s like 10 o’clock there's no way any museum is open this late,” you chuckled.

She laughs. “First of all, it's only 9:52! Second of all, I have connections! Plus it’s black-owned.”

“Mhm. Well, I’m not far ….. and ya’ know I can’t pass up supporting my people so, I’m down-.”

“YES!-”

“But on one condition! We get food afterwards, deal?”

“Deal! Meet me at the address I just sent,” she says, grinning.

“Oka-,” she’d hung up mid-response. “I know she didn’t just hang up on me,” you murmur.

✄╰U╯

The wind lightly tugs at her hoodie as she exits the roof staircase. Tish is greeted by a panoramic view that stretches out before her. The full moon casts ethereal shadows and illuminates her surroundings. Shining lights paint a mosaic, altered by London’s architecture. Warmth lingers but the crisp air is a constant reminder of the cold to come. As she looks around Hayden is nowhere to be found. 

“Hello?....Hayden?” She calls out, no response. She slides her hands into the pocket of her hoodie, rocking back and forth, heel to toe. “This man said 10 minutes,” she mumbles, grabbing her phone out of her pocket. “Bruv come on!” The pipes rattle, causing her eyes to dart across the rooftop. 

“ Hay? Hayden?” Exhaust blooms from the roof vents, clouding the atmosphere. Her tendons stand out on her neck as she looks behind her. Just as she was about to press his contact, a hand was placed on her shoulder. “BOO!” She hops, turning around.

“Come on bro what the fuck!?!” She punches him in the torso, eyes wide.

He coughs, grabbing his stomach.“Ow! Sorry, I’m sorry! I just had to get you for the one time,” Hayden snickers, voice strained. “I got food!” He holds up a box of pizza, smiling. Tish eyes him up and down before grabbing it. “Ouch!” She hissed, walking towards the cement ledge. “That’s what you get,” he says, following behind her as she opens the box. The heavenly smell of marinara hits her face as she takes a slice. Biting into it, her eyes shut slowly.

“Good isn’t it?” Hayden questions, smirking.

“Eh, it's alright. Not as good as Prince’s,” Tish takes another bite, elbows resting on the ledge. 

He lightly chuckles, tapping his fingers on the cement. His laughter slowly fades as he looks at her, biting the inside of his mouth. He rests his arms on the ledge, fingers intertwined with each other, admiring the view. Skyscrapers reach for the heavens, their glass windows reflecting the shimmering night sky. The rooftop air was crisp and seemed to carry a sense of freedom and escape from the confines of daily life. There’s a moment of silence before Hayden clears his throat, “So! How’s everything going with ya' girl?”

Her chewing comes to a standstill as she side-eyes him, setting down the pizza.

“It’s..been okay so far. She’s in exam mode right now, but so far so good!”

Hayden nods slowly, still looking at the skyline. He knew she was lying and deep down she did too. 

“Have you met her parents?”

“Well…we haven’t quite made it official..yet. But there’s some fundraising event we're supposed to attend in Monaco, after Ramla’s fight. So, they might be there,” she shrugs.

“Righttt! After the trip to Mykonos- that I wasn’t invited to?!

Tish giggles, closing the pizza box. “It’s a girl's trip! I don’t think you’d wanna be in a house full of women.” He lifts his brow at her insinuation.

“Well, not these kinds of women-.”

“Tuh! Please, I grew up in a house full of em’. I like to think of myself as somewhat of an expert on female emotions,” He plants his hands in the air, grinning.

“What girl gave you that idea, 'cause there's no way in hell it was anybody sane.”

“Ah ha very funny. You just love to crush a man's ego-.”

“Everyday!” She laughs.”

“Who planned it anyways?”

She runs her tongue across her teeth, swallowing. 

“Y/N and Jojo.”

“Mhm,” he nods slowly. 

The sounds of the city become a distant hum as they stand in silence, peering into the world that exists beyond their own.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks.

“Talk about what?’

“Come on Tish, you gotta confront yourself at some point,” he furrows his brows.

“Confront myself?!” Tish points to her chest, jaw going slack.

“YES! Confront yourself, your feelings!” He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Everyone around you knows, everyone around you sees Tish! The tension between you and Jojo the past few weeks and the awkwardness between you in YN/N. Everybody knows how you feel about her. So….just be real with yourself for a sec’-.”

“I am being real with myself-”

“You have an interesting way of showing it,” Hayden eyes her, waiting for her to protest.

“ Look. Yes!... Yes, I am in love with her- in love with Y/N. I yearn for her, in secrecy and in silence. I mean we did everything together, but now I just feel her absence in everything I do- every place I go, she runs her hands under her hood, stepping away from the ledge. 

 “ I’ve been pretending like I don’t for so long, I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore. I’ve lost me- who I am. And I don’t know what it is….why do I keep pushing her away? But none of that seems to matter when you’ve broken that only other love you have. The best love you could get.” In this moment she felt as if she could be vulnerable, more vulnerable than she was 3 years ago.

“Well…when you find out, you need to tell her-.” his phone rings. 

“Sorry, I gotta go it’s my mum callin’, she just flew in and I gotta pick her up. I’ll catch you later?” Hayden inquires backing away towards the door.

Tish nods, giving him a tight-lipped smile. She’d had a lot of soul-searching to do it had to start now.

✄╰U╯

Scatter pools of light cast from the lamppost, illuminating the path in front of you. Melodies were composed from the howling owls, rustling leaves, and chirping crickets. The tree's silhouettes stand like guardians against the night sky, their branches yearning to reach the stars. As both your eyes adjust to the darkness, you notice the flickering dance of fireflies. 

“I think I got- what do you Americans call it? The itis?”

 You chuckle, sliding your hands in your pocket. “Yeah, the food was pretty good! It actually tasted way better than usual.”

“Let’s just say…..alright, I know the head chef.”

“Ohhh connections! Right!,” You both laugh.

“Hey! I made plenty of friends with different passions in Uni.”

Walking over a bridge, the nearby pond becomes the mirror for the stars and moon above. The surface softly shimmers, occasionally disrupted by the gentle ripples caused by the passing breeze.

 “I've been meaning to walk through the park since I moved over here,” you say looking around. 

“Trust me it looks way better in the daytime!”

“I bet! I’d thought about making this my morning jogging route since it was so close to my place, but I rather not be another statistic.”

“Oh yeah! You run?”

“Eh. Walk and jog, yes. Run, only on the treadmill.” Jojo nods, looking forward as you both walk. “Tish and I used to every time I flew over and when I first moved here, but….it stopped once ya’ know-.”

“Yeah….Did decide how to handle the Dixon’s or shall I say Diatezwa’? She plants her hands in the air sarcastically.

“Um. I actually had just got done dropping off the papers before you called.” The silence causes you to look over at her, “What?”

“Nothing. I guess I just expected you and Bsf/n to take a different route that’s all.”

“What? Not sign?..... I can’t risk anything happening to her, even if it’s to save Bsf/n’s company. I couldn’t live with that on my conscious- I couldn’t live with myself,” you express, looking forward. You still loved her in spite of everything that’s taken place over the past couple of days and her getting hurt would only make the pain crash against the shores of your soul worse.

Jojo nods understandingly. “You think that’s all they want?”

“I don’t know. But I guess we’ll find out right?”

The view of your apartment building becomes clearer as you get to the other end of the park.

“Anyways, the art museum was nice!” You deflect from the conversation, curling the corners of your mouth upwards.

 “Yesss! The walls told so many stories.”

“I really liked Rianna Jade Parker’s collection, I mean the glow captured upon each piece was just beautiful!” Jojo looks at you as you speak, your eyes seem to glow. She was just glad she was able to help get your mind off of everything for a while.

“Right! I just love that black artist have a space to put their joy on display and not our pain ya’ know?”

“There’s actually a wonderful black museum in Washington I think you’d like, just to have some extra insight on the diaspora.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it the National Museum of African American Culture and History, right?

“That’s the one!”

You both cross the street, stopping in front of your building.

“ I definitely have to go and since you're an art fan, we should swing by the Nouveau before leaving Monaco.”

“Yeah, yeah we gotta do that,” you say smiling.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself.”

“Oh yeah! Other than the guy that was eye fucking me the whole train ride over here, I had a great time!” You both bust out laughing.

“You sure you're okay with going home this late by yourself? I have a guest room,” you suggest.

“Yeah, I called an Uber, but thanks!” Jojo pulls out her phone. “It’s actually two blocks away- damn it’s almost 2 a.m.?” Her brows drew together.

“Foreal? Oh shit, I was supposed to call Dezzy before one, it’s like 3 a.m. there! You check your phone, looking threw your call logs and messages. “ She gon’ kill me!”

A black car pulls up next to you slowly. “That’s me. Uh, I’ll see you at the club tomorrow or- I mean later?” Jojo questions, opening the backseat door.

“I’ll be there, just have to handle some things first. But text me to let me know you made it in safe.”

“Will do,” she gets in the car. You start to walk towards the revolving doors and hear a window roll down, causing you to turn your head. 

“Goodnight!” She yells, grinning.

You return the gesture, “Goodnight.”

[blkgworlamplified]

Vibes Don't Lie Pt. 5

Pairing: Letitia Wright x Black!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k+

Contains: Sexual content, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drugs, explicit language, angst, and fluff (If you squint).

A/n: I believe this is the point where I started to take it serious lol.

Divider: © 𝐓𝐎𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 2024

★★★★★

It’d been ten minutes since you’d arrived at the Jamavar. You’d sat in the car debating whether or not you should go in. Bodies floated in and out of the restaurant, ones filled with smiles and laughter after having a good meal. You grabbed your purse off the seat, stepped out of the car, and placed it across your body. Feeling the air exhale, you take a deep breath, sharing the energy trapped in your lungs. 

Walking into the restaurant, you're greeted by the sweet smell of freshly ground coconut and curry leaves. The hostess greets you. “I’m he-.” The woman cuts you off and smiles. “I know, she’s waiting for you. Right this way.” She gestures towards the stairs, and you follow her. “She?” you mumble to yourself. 

As soon as you reach the top of the steps, you notice the said “she.” Sitting, at the back of the restaurant, looking out of the window. She picked a piece of lint from her sleeve and stood as you got closer. “Really-?” the hostess walked away.

“Please Y/n, sit?” she protested. Running your tongue over your teeth, glancing at the chair then back a her, you sit. 

“Eva, this better be good.” She just looks at you with her mouth open, trying to find the words. You scoot your chair back causing Eva to stand, and hold her hands up. “I promise. I-I’m not here to waste your time,” she says slowly. You scoot your chair up and she exhales, sitting back down. “Well, Tish always talked about how much you loved tea, so I took the liberty of ordering you a cup.” “Oh!... Well, thanks!” you smiled slightly.

There was a moment of silence before Eva spoke.

“This was waiting for me in my hotel room after the Alexander McQueen show.” She pulls an orange clasp envelope out of her purse and places it on the table, sliding it towards you. “What’s this?” you slowly grabbed it.  “It’s full of business documents and pictures,” Eva says. You open the envelope, sliding out its contents. “Pictures of my siblings, p-parents, and I’m guessing you and Bsf/n’s fa-.”

“Family members,” you whisper, heart dropping. There was a photo of your mother and grandmother on a cruise, and another of Bsf/n’s mother and aunt returning home. “Th-There was also a note and key.” She grabs a piece of paper from the pile and hands you the key. 

The note said the following:

  “Sign the following documents and leave them in dropbox #34 at St Pancras Station by Wednesday.” 

“Um. Two papers stood out. Both were about shareholdings but one was signed by Dezmon Diatezwa as the new shareholder.” She pointed to one of the papers. “The other was signed by someone purchasing a share, someone I think you might know.” Eva pointed to the signature, giving 

you a half-clenched smile. Your mouth slacks as you mumble the name. “F/n Fl/n.” Your father.

Closing your eyes, you exhale and rest your elbows on the table. She pulls out her phone, showing you a picture of him. “I called a few of my people back in Uganda about this so-called Dezmon. He’s some kind of big-time lawyer here in London and Congo, but not just any kind of lawyer. H-He’s the dirty kind. The kind that will do anything for power. I mean he has legit businesses such as his law firm but has public ties with the Zawadi family.”

“The crime syndicate?” you interject. “Yeah, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg.” Eva swipes at an older family portrait of Dezmon, Fidji, her younger sister Samira, and her mother Imelda. “She’s his daughter?! What the hell!?!” you said, mouth ajar.

“And I don’t even think Tish knows! Then she approached me in the bathroom about my so-called relations-.” The ringing of your phone interrupted the conversation. “Sorry, one sec!” You stepped away from the table and answered. “Hey, Maze what’s up?!” Eva watches as your brows knit together, causing a line to form between her own. You quickly walk back to the table, grabbing the documents and photos.

“Is everything alright?!” Eva questioned.

“Y-Yeah, everything is fine. Um, I'll call you-.” You walk away, not giving her any time to respond.

✄╰U╯

As you paced through the parking lot, the ground seemed to sway under you. The sky was full of darkness as light danced in the sky. A heavy pelting of water drowned out the sound around you. Squeaky wheelchairs and gurneys break your trance as you approach the receptionist.  “Hi! I’m here to see Noel Bordelon-.” “Y/N!” Turning around, you see Maze. She grabs your hand, leading you to the waiting room. Walking in you immediately met with the embrace of Bsf/n.

Bloodshot red eyes, water collected at her bottom lid. “I-I came as soon as I heard. W-What happened?” you questioned, eyes darting between Maze and Bsf/n. “The-.” Bsf/n clasps her hands together and shuts her eyes. “S-She had a heart attack, wh-while doing laundry- she’s in surgery now.” Her aunt Mira hands her a cup of water and leads her to a seat. Mira gives you a warm hug, rubbing your back. “How ya’ been sweetie?” she asks, holding your forearms.

“So far so good, just…taking it day by day. How bout you?” you smiled. “Besides this, I’m doing pretty good but how's that pretty girlfriend of yours?” she inquired. Your forehead creased. “Girl-?” “Alright! Yeah, that’s enough conversation- for now.” Bsf/n pulls you down into the seat next to her.

The low TV screen plays the same weather forecast repeatedly for the past two hours. Cold metallic doors leading to the OR, shuffling patients in and out. The anxiety of your best friend radiates from her body each time blue scrubs pass the threshold. Cries and moans of grieving loved ones echoed throughout the halls. She’s pinching the skin on her throat, leg bouncing repeatedly. The warmness of your hand on her knee brings her to a halt.

 “Hey, she’s going to be fine. Mrs. Noel is one of the toughest women I know….the other being you,” you said, grinning. Bsf/n nods, but her eyes widen at the sight of the heart surgeon.

All of you stand, giving him your undivided attention. “We performed a Cardio Angioplasty and placed a stent. There was a lot of clotting around the heart, but she pulled through and will have a healthy recovery.” He smiled. Breaths released, and hugs passed at his words. “She’ll be able to go home tonight once she wakes, and a nurse will come by to talk to you about cardio rehabilitation.” Bsf/n shakes his hand, thanking him, and he walks away.

She gathers her things and turns to you and Maze. “Yall don’t have to stay, we got it from here.” “You sure? We don’t mind.” You gesture between you and Maze. “Yeah, go home and get some sleep. I’ll call you in the mornin’.” “ Okay.” She hugs you both and walks away.

 “Ya’ know how she is, don’t want nobody to worry bout her. I’ll take care of her,” says Mira, smiling and hugging you. “Now you babies stay safe aight, these motherfuckas can’t drive ova here!!” Laughter fills the room as she walks away.

✄╰U╯

Shea butter penetrates your melanated skin as Cleo Sol plays throughout the apartment. Lights from the city glistened through the rain running down the floor-to-ceiling windows. The tart taste of “Chateau Latife Rothschild 2019” red wine glides on your tongue as you sit, staring at the envelope on the table. Sighing deeply as you open your laptop. “Hmm, let's see.” Searching Dezmon Diatezwa, nothing comes up. You swap out Diatezwa for Dixon and he pops up. The first result is an article about him winning the trial of a tech mogul by the name of  Kristopher Flynn. “Kristopher Flynn?” you whisper. Your phone rings bringing you out of concentration. “Hey, I was just about to call you.” 

“Oh okay, was everything alright?” Eva questioned, concern laced her voice. “Yeah! Just some- personal stuff,” you respond. “Okay..well, have you found anything so far?”

“Just an article about some trial he won recently. It was for some guy named Kristopher Flynn,” you scrolled further. “Kristopher with a K?” She asks. “Mhm. Why?” Your brows furrowed at the lack of response. “He was accused of smuggling narcotics in and out of Europe. H-His father is the attorney general here.” Taking a sip of wine, you sigh.“So Dezmon has connections-?”

“Big connections.” Your scrolling comes to a halt. “Wait there's another one. Some article about $73 million going missing from the Congolese government.” “Damn, 73?” Eva’s mouth falls open. “But this isn’t just some one-time payment, it’s monthly! And they're alleging it’s funding his businesses.” Sifting through the envelope you find the signed documents and letter. “Oh, this is bad! Really bad!” Eva’s laugh is shaky and breathless. 

“Ugh! Tish what did you get yourself into?!” You put your hands on your head, running your fingers through your knotless braids. “S-She has to know! We-We have to tell her!” Your voice was laced with panic. “Yeah, but she’s not gonna listen to me- especially not after what I did.” Her words cause you to go silent. “I mean- I knew she liked me….. and instead of letting her down, I just fed into it………. I-I played in her face as Jojo would say.” 

She hears the silence on the line, “I'm sorry that's not important. The important thing is saving Tish from another betrayal. So! What’s the plan?”

“Well…I first have to find out why my father's shares are so important and how this shit has anything to do with me before Wednesday. Our family's lives are in my hands and were running on borrowed time.” 

✄╰U╯

“What the fuck? Is this nigga serious-?” Bsf/n sits on her desk, looking through the documents. “As a heart attack,” Jojo said, leaning on the wall. “I have a cousin that works for the NCA I could talk to, maybe they have a case built up on him,” Maze suggested. “That could help,” you nod at Maze. 

You’re standing, looking out of the office window at the bar. “Since when did my dad have a share in your company?” Your question was met with silence causing you to turn around. “Bsf/n?”

Bsf/n clears her throat and exhales. “When our dads were in college, my father needed help getting his business started. So, your dad helped him and in return, he got a share of 20%. He had the money every month wired to an offshore account in your name…. in his will, he stated that you weren’t supposed to know about it until you turned 30. That same money was used to pay your tuition.” Your mouth goes slack at her words.

“So, my guess is that Dezmon wants you to sign your shares over to him to upstart his journey of taking over the company, and if you don’t…well you know the rest.” You sit down, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth.

‘I’m sorry-” Bsf/n said shaking her head. “No-No it’s fine,” you scratch your head. “She’s just using her. Just like I thought,” Jojo sighs, shaking her head. “Imma gonna go make a few calls,”

Bsf/n stands up and walks out of the room. “Yeah, I’m gonna go meet up with my cousin,” Maze grabs her coat, leaving out the door.

There’s a huge silence, anger echoing off the walls. “She just flew in an hour ago so, I’ll tell her to come down. We should tell her ourselves,” you nod as Jojo pulls out her phone and steps outside the door.

✄╰U╯

Tish walks in and embraces you tightly, rubbing the small of your back. Her perfume hypnotizes you and her smile only adds to it as she steps back holding your gaze. “Hey-,” the sound of JoJo clearing her throat cuts you off. Tish looks between the both of you. “So…what’s going on? Nobody died right?” A smile slips from your face before shaking your head. 

“No nothing like that,” Jojo looks at you. “So why the long faces?” Jojo makes eye contact with you before speaking. “ Tish there’s something very important you need to know and you need to listen to us, and I mean actually listen,” Jojo clasps her hands together. “Okay… lay it on me,” Tish takes a seat, looking at you both. 

You sit on the desk and look down at the floor, taking a deep breath. “Fidji’s using you,” Jojo blurts. Tish grins and laughs, “What? What are you talking about?” “She’s using you Tish,” you grab the documents and photos off the desk. “This was left in Eva’s hotel room, it’s a bunch of legal documents and pictures of our family members.” She takes them from you flipping through it’s contents. 

“This whole thing is just a way to steal Bsf/n’s business,” Jojo said, sitting beside you on the desk. “Fidji wouldn’t do that,” Tish disagrees, handing you back the content, and shakes her head. “You’ve only known her for 6 months Tish, Jojo said furrowing her brows. “She hasn’t spoken to him in over 3 years. I know who he is….t-the things he’s capable of, she avoids him for those very reasons,” she shakes her head looking out the window,

You say her name but she keeps her eyes trained everywhere else but you. “Tish, I understand this may be hard to believe but it's the truth.”

“Your wrong, you both are! What is this, jealousy?” Jojo stands up, eyes widen, “Cristicsm and jealousy are two completely different things!”

 “Please! You’ve hated her ever since you met her! And you talked to Eva of all people?” Tish exclaimed, standing. You stand, taken back by her tone. “She was the one who texted me! What was I supposed to do ignore her?”

“Yes! Yes, you were supposed to do exactly that!” Tish’s nose flares. “You know what, I tried, I tried my best to get through to you and I’m tired,” Jojo starts to walk towards the door. “Jojo,” you protested, but she walked out, slamming the door. The room goes silent as you look off to the side. 

“She’s right,” you break the silence. Tish peers up at you, lips trembling. “This constant tug of war with my feelings, I'm done. She’s taking advantage of you- of your time and if you can’t see that….then I don’t know how to help you.”

“Y/n,” She protests. 

“You were supposed to be my best friend! I told you shit that I’ll never tell Bsf/n. But at least now I know it was all a lie,” your eyes are bloodshot. “No! I loved you! I still do,” she argued.

“Then how did we get here, hm? I keep asking myself that….hoping the answer would fall into my lap but I guess it just never will.” Tears roll down your cheek and Tish reaches for you, tears of her own clouding her vision. “I-I’m so sorry.”

You push her hands away, grab your things, and walk to the door. “I wanna believe you, I do but I can’t. So… if you wanna be with her, you do that but I'm choosing me,” you opened the door.

She walks after you, pleading. “W-We can fix this! We can fix us!” 

“There is no us, there never was Tish.”

[blkgworlamplified]

VIBES DON'T LIE Pt. 1-4

Pairing: Letitia Wright x Black!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 9k+

Contains: Sexual content, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drugs, explicit language, angst, and fluff (If you squint).

A/n: Now listen, this was originally an 'anon fic' for #outtapocketday (iykyk) that turned into an actual 'anon fic' series. So, that explains the play-by-play you may experience while reading because it was more on the 'imagine this' spectrum. I combined the first 4 chapters for an easier read and added around the original text for a little atmosphere. Bear with me, but I really hope y'all like this series!

Synopsis (Somewhat): Imagine you and Tish haven’t seen each other in a while since her new girlfriend has been around. You became really close over the last couple of years after producing a film together. There was always a lot of sexual tension between you two, but you never acted upon it because you didn’t wanna ruin your friendship.

Divider: © 𝐓𝐎𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 2024

Part 1

★★★★★

You arrived at LFW’s (Insert Designer Brand) show and got seated across from her on the runway. Since you’re obviously not allowed to walk across the runway, you greet each other by waving. Smiling, Tish mouths the words, “You look beautiful.” 

You smile back with your hands over your chest and mouth “Thank you, you look amazing.” You’d been casting glances at each other the whole show. Once the show was over, you hopped in the limo to get back to your hotel and change for the after-party. 

✄╰U╯

The party happens to take place at one of your best friends' clubs. When you arrive at the club you greet your friends (any celebs you wish), and your friend who was the club owner screams your name and runs up to hug you. “Second-floor, VIP on the balcony,” she says and starts to walk away towards her office on the second floor.

“Girl, what?” you say, following behind her. You were practically screaming over the loud music and DJ announcements. The colorful flashing lights danced across her face. She points to the section not too far from her office. “Your girlfriend over there, see Ti-“, you cover her mouth and pull her into her office. 

“What the fuck bsf/n?” you say.

“Oh girl please y’all are meant to be. I don’t care what you say.”

“We’re just friends…..besides she has a girlfriend. At least I think so.” 

Bsf/n’s assistant opens the door, “Sorry to interrupt, but the wine cellar door is jammed.”

“Damn, alright, I’ll be right there.” She glances at you, placing her hand on your shoulder. “You won’t know unless you ask.” The door closes as you lean against the desk, head hanging down as you look at the black marble floor beneath your feet. 

“So you weren’t gonna say hi?” The familiarity of a smooth velvet-laced voice causes you to look up. There she is leaning up against the door smiling (Imagine the Prada fit with her shoulders out).

You smile back.

“Me and bsf/n was just catchin’ up.”

“Mhm.” There’s an awkward but comfortable silence that hangs amongst the room before you clear your throat.

“Alright, well let’s get back shall we.” You get up and start walking towards the door. But before your hand reaches the knob, Tish grabs you by the waist, kissing you deeply. She reaches behind herself, locking the door. You parted your lips, grabbing her shirt, and kissing her, her back pressed against the door. She trails kisses along your ear, neck, and chest, lifting your skirt. She hikes your thigh up onto her hip, slipping her hands into your underwear.  “Fuck,” your breath hitches.

Her eyes met yours, the intensity in her burning gaze. A smug smile spread across Tish’s face at the curse word that escaped your lips. Hearing you speak like that, your voice ragged and hoarse with desire sends a new wave of need through her. Her hand moves in a slow, deliberate circle, seeking out the sensitive spot that makes you writhe against her. Her free hand gripping tighter onto your high, holding you in place, not wanting her to move away. 

“We can’t do this-,” you whisper breathlessly.

“You look so beautiful like this.” Her breath was warm against your ear, her words a whisper filled with a promise.

“Tish we-.“ Before you know it her knees found a spot on the floor between your legs, hiking one over her shoulder, and trailing soft kisses along your inner thigh. “Oh shittt, shit we're really doing this,” your voice shaky from the coldness of her grills you. She licks one long stripe, reaching up and putting her hand over your mouth as you start to whimper. You’d swear she was spelling not only her first name but also her middle and last. Shit, she probably added ‘Dr.’ in front of it.

The muffling moans and sight of your eyes rolling in the back of your head, only edges her on. Her eyes never leave your face, her tongue continuing its slow, deliberate rhythm.

She speeds up, sucking your clit off the bone. You start closing your legs as you get closer to your orgasm, just for her to pop your thigh. She feels your core buck against her face, seeking more contact, more friction. Her own head is spinning, the sight of you coming undone above her almost too much to handle.

“Tish…Tishhh?” You glance down to see her still distracted by what’s between, not flinching at the sudden knock on the door. There’s a moment of silence before you hear the voice of Jojo.

 “She’s not in there, Fidji. Maybe try the bar downstairs, hm?” There’s a few seconds that pass before you hear the sound of Fidji’s footsteps floating away. On the other side of the door, Fidji nods and turns, causing Jojo to look up with praying hands and mouth, “Thank you”.

#out of pocket weekend 

Part 1.2

A/n: Now this may not classify as outta pocket ( I’m just making it up as I go), so bear with me lol. For visual reference imagine ‘Ghosts’ Club in ‘Power’ and the club balcony from Dr***’s after-party.

★★★★★

You tap Tish’s head as cleans up the remainder of your release, kissing your lower stomach. Fixing your skirt as she stands up, pressing a quick but soft kiss against your lips. You can’t help but stare at yourself in the wall mirror across the office. You walk over, wiping the smudge of lipstick off your cheek. You exhale, fixing your hair before speaking.

 “So. It’s…it’s best we get back out there, she’s probably worried.”

Before Tish could protest a knock is heard, causing both of you to look at the door. She unlocks the door revealing Yazmine, her publicist. “Tish, Martine Syms is all set for pics.” Tish looks back at you and you give her a tight-lipped smile, nodding your head to motion for her to go.

✄╰U╯

“Why the long face, hm?,” Maze says, smiling softly. “I don’t gotta kill anyone right?” She chuckles.

You laugh, shaking your head. “No, just tired I guess.” Your eyes are fixated on the sight of her fixing up a drink. The hiss of club soda filling the glass being the only calming noise.

“Mhm. Alright, what can I get ya?”

“Uhh….gimme’ a sazerac on the rocks?” You questioned hesitantly.

“Heavy on the whiskey?” The curvy dark skin woman asks, lifting her brows.

“Heavy on the whiskey,” you respond grinning.

As she’s fixing your drink you once again can’t help but look at her. Her long braids, gold jewelry, ear piercings, and lastly her glowing skin. Maze was beautiful as fuck and when it came down to you, a huge flirt. You’d been friends for the past 6 years but never thought about anything more. Besides, you liked your friendship. She hands you the drink and then helps a customer. Amapiano music plays as your eyes travel to Tish’s section to see her taking pics and dancing with friends. The burn glides down your throat as you take a sip. “Heavy on the whiskey alright,” you mumbled to yourself.

“It’s the damn shoes isn’t it?”

“What?” You question, furrowing your brows and turning your head towards bsf/n. 

“Look, don’t get me wrong. Ol’ girl is fine as fuck but she could’ve chosen a lil open toe heel or somethin’. “ 

“Bsf/n.”

“Strappy, black,-gold for a lil accent- shit, silver.”

“Bsf/n.”

“What? I’m just sayin’. Besides, Tish looks happier with you around and I'm not just saying that 'cause I’m ya bestie, but because I truly see it and so does everyone else.”

“Everyone else?” You ask, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“Yep.”

“Meaning everyone besides us?”

“Mhm.” Suddenly. you feel someone poke your lower back, causing you to turn around.

“Dom?! Oh my-.” Dom’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into her, and bringing you into a warm and comfortable hug. She rested her chin on top of your shoulder, and gently ran her hand up and down your back, holding you close to her.

✄╰U╯

Dominique Thorne was the only one bold enough to challenge you in Philosophy class. ‘Socrates was a master manipulator when came down to the youth.’ The look on her face showed she wanted to knock you off your toes. As tempting as it was, you didn’t give in. The only time y’all had an interaction was through improv in Theatre class. Staying to yourself was something you were determined to accomplish, but your parents were not only Greeks but a part of the Divine 9. 

The last 3 generations on your momma’s side were delta’s and she wanted you to pledge. You were nervous as shit and since Dom was also a pledge, you decided to support one another. That also happened to be where you met bsf/n. Once graduation rolled around you’d kept in touch with her.

✄╰U╯

“Hey boo, how you been?”

“Life’s been lifin’, but shit I’m good. How bout you? I heard you back on Broadway and shit!” you asked, smiling and hitting a little shimmy.

“Yeahhhh!! You know I had to remind them that I’m still that girl,” she grins. 

“AND IS!!” You exclaimed. “I’ll be in New York after Paris Fashion Week, so I’ll definitely have to slide by.”

“So, what she ya favorite or somethin’? You just gon’ leave me hangin’?” 

All of you laughed.

“C’mere bsf/n, you know you, my girl,” Dominique says, pouting her lips.

“Yeah, yeah whatever nigga. Imma go chat with Kofi and Daniel, I’ll be right back.”

“Alright,” you all say, in unison.

‘worst behaviour by Kwn’ plays and Jojo walks over to you and Dom, singing with her phone in her hand. Everyone in the club is singing at the top of their lungs. The music and filtered lights turned their awkward bodies into a fluid rhythm. You’re leaning up against the banister while she sings to you. (TW: think of how Tish was singing to *** and Lani that night)

“Ooh, I got my eyes wide open. (Open)

Want to but I can’t focus ‘cause

I been holdin’ onto us, us

I’m still hopin’ (Hopin’)

We can leave the bed soakin’ wet” 

Both of you sing together as Dom records the two of you.

“And girl I know you feel the same

Open

Us, us

Hopin’

Wet, oh“

‘22 by JayO (slowed)’ plays soon after and you start whining with both hands gripping the railing overlooking the downstairs crowd. Dom comes up behind hyping you up as you whine on her, gripping your waist, and pulling down your rising skirt. Tish watches zoned out, manspread with a cup in one hand and Fidji wrapped around the other. 

“Please! Can you believe her? That was her first time having sushi,” Fidji says, her laugh fading as she looks at Tish.

“Tish? “

“Huh?”

“Did you hear me? Ms. Food Enthusiast Steph's first time having sushi was when all went out.”

“Oh, you were missin’ out!! I’m going to the washroom,” Tish snickered, standing. Fidji and Stephanie nodded while laughing.

Tish washes her hands, glancing up in the mirror as Jojo walks in, locking the door and checking the stalls before walking next to her.

“What exactly are your intentions with Y/n?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, don’t be coy! What are your intentions with her? ” 

“I….I don’t know.”

“For fucks sake, Tish!” Jojo huffs slowly while clasping her hands together and resting her chin on them.

“I mean.. I-I know wha-what I want. I want her. I’ve always wanted her.”

“Then tell her! You do this shit all the time. Tamara, E-Eva- now Fidji. And yeah maybe they’re too naive or either feel like they can take her spot or fill th-this missing void. But you at least owe Y/n the decency of not leading her astray.” They stood there in silence, Tish looking down and Jojo waiting for an answer. Jojo walks to the door unlocking it, stopping as she puts her hand on the knob. ‘Girl by The Internet’ is playing as she cracks it open slightly. “This… This here. This isn’t you.” The door shuts as Tish looks at herself in the mirror. Taking in every inch of her face, before giving a tight-lipped smile and hesitatingly walking out the door.

“Chapters turning, so old fashioned and natural

Potions got me falling for you, oh yeah

Baby if I told you that you rock my world, I want you around me, yeah

Would you let me call you my girl, my girlfriend, my girlfriend?

I can give you the life you deserve, just say the word”

She glances over to see you dancing with Maze up on the balcony. 

“Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?” She demanded, grabbing your arm. Not giving you a chance to answer, she pulled you into a secluded hallway.

“Wassup?” You asked, slightly furrowing your brows. She just looks at you.“Ohhh. I see what this is,” your mouth upturned. 

“Y/n.”

“So it’s okay for you to play tug of war with my feelings, but wrong for me?”  She looks at you intently, searching for the right words to say. “Well, I guess there ain’t shit to talk about, hm.” You shrug, taking a step away.

“Y/n, l-.”

“What happened between us, can’t happen again. I’m not some bitch that you can fuck anytime things don’t go your way-!” You faced her, motioning between the both of you.

“Y/n, I love you! I love you, So. Damn. Much.” She reaches out, her warm hands going to cradle your face gently, needing to touch you, needing to feel you, needing to somehow make you understand. “And I’m not just in love with my friend but my. Best. Friend.” She’s let out a shaky exhale. Your silence only made her fear grow. She forces herself to speak, voice coming out in a quiet, pleading whisper, desperate for you to talk to her, desperate to have you hold her.

You grabbed her wrists, pulling them down from your face, tears brimming at your eyes. “Last time I checked you didn’t wanna stand in the sun.” A tear rolls down your cheek. 

There was so much more she wanted to tell you. How she feels at home when she’s with you. How you're the only face she could ever find in a crowd. How she prays that even if you part ways, you’ll find one another in the next life. That every day on set when she held your hand, she dreaded the pain she’d feel once you let go. She just….froze. 

When you receive no response, you walk away. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Tish wails, her hand palming her forehead.

✄╰U╯

“Yeah, I think imma head in for the night.”

“Awe, so soon?” Dom pouts.

“Yeah, but I promise I’ll call you in the morning okay?” You give her a hug before giving your farewells to everyone else.

 ”You okay?” Jojo questions, holding you in a tight embrace, and rubbing your back.

“I’m alright, just tired.”

“Okay, I ain’t gonna bother you.”

You chuckle, smiling.

“Just know that I’m here if you wanna talk.” You nod at her words. Jojo takes your hands, rubbing them. “I’m serious, y/n.”

“Thanks.” You smiled, exhaling, taking your leave not shortly after.

✄╰U╯

Tish fixed herself up, putting on her shades, and joining Fidji.

“Everything good?” She asks. 

 Tish forced a slick grimace. ”Oh, yeah I’m cool.” 

Jojo can’t help but watch the interaction between them. She shook her head and took a sip.

Is this the end of you two?

PART 3/?

Imma give the writers out there y'all props because THIS WRITING SHIT AIN’T FOR THE WEAK. 🙅🏽‍♀️

A/n: (imagine Paris doesn't have the bedbug issue and that Jojo is turning 30).

✄╰U╯

It was around 4 a.m. when you arrived at your penthouse. After taking a shower, you decided to drink a cup of tea and watch ‘Queen Sugar’ for the umpteenth time to get your mind off of tonight. As the tea brewed, you walked over to your floor-to-ceiling windows.

 “Bsf/n’s family built some nice shit, I’ll tell you that,” you murmur.

Bfs/n was a heiress who owned multiple properties across the U.S., Europe, and South Africa. The property at which you reside had a beautiful riverside view of the Thames. Softly exhaling, you do a double take at the box on the floor in the corner. It was the last box you needed to unpack, and you’d been dreading it for the past week. 

You sat a box of herbal blends and rolling paper before walking over and kneeling in front of the box. As badly as you wanted to stuff it in the back of the closet and forget about it, you opened it. There was a photo book that contained digitals of your life since college. Skimming through it, you came across a picture of Tish eating pizza with sauce all over her face. “That girl knows she loves her some damn pizza,” you uttered. Upon turning the page, you saw another one of her smiling while you kissed her cheek at the beach in Cape Town. Times were great back then. Everything felt... right.

✄╰U╯

You take a sip of tea, your eyes closed as the warmth glides down your throat. You were on the scene where Nova tells Chantal how happy she made her when your phone rang. “Hm. To think that I actually swore they were endgame.” It was bsf/n.

“Hey boo, just making sure you made it home safe.”

“Yeah, I’m good! just got in about an hour ago,” flicking the lighter.

“Bitch, are you sparkin’ up right now!? Without me?!?”

“Nooo... yes.”

“Y/N!”

“It's just a lil’ lavender and rose; you don't like herbs in ya spliff.” Taking a puff.

“Mhm. Anyway, I was thinking that since Dom is flying out tomorrow, maybe we could all go to brunch. I already called Dezzy and Maze; they said they’re down.”

“Girl, don’t we all have a flight to catch!?”

“Yeah, that’s why maybe. I figured we could use one of the jets, then fly to New York right after Paris.”

“One of?” Eyebrows furrowing.

“Yes. One of, Y/N's,” Bsf/n laughs.

“Oh! Well… Shit, sometimes I forget you ‘Oprah rich.’” Both of you erupted in laughter, causing you to start choking. 

“You know what? Let me get off this damn phone before you fuck around and cross over.”

Smiling, holding your chest. “Alright, see you tomorrow. Love you, goodnight.”

“Love you too, goodnight.”

✄╰U╯

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you rubbed in body oil and fixed your jewelry. You’d decided to wear something loose and comfy for the day. Turning your back towards the mirror, you raise your brows. “Oh! She’s sitting!” While doing a once-over in the mirror, you receive a text from Bsf/n. ‘The car is downstairs. Bring your bags to the lobby.’ You quickly text back, ‘Okay,’ before rushing to the living room and grabbing your hoodie off the couch. You analyze the room, checking to make sure you have everything. “Bags check, phone check, purse, keys, and supplements check. I’m missing somethin’,” you murmur, looking around. “Ahhh! My camera.” You grab the case off the table, placing it onto your carry-on.

You’d already brought the baggage carrier up and loaded your luggage onto it. Pulling the carrier out the door and entering the elevator, you hear a man yelling.

“Can you hold the door, please?!?”

Being the good person you are, you hold the door, giving him a closed-lip smile as he walks in. He returns it as the door closes but does a double take. “What floor?” You hover your fingers over the buttons. Getting no response, you look at him. 

Eyes wide and almost speechless, he says, “Wait. Are you Y/N L/N?!!”

“Y-Yes—.”

“Oh my god! Girl, I saw you in the lobby last night and thought I was trippin’. You must be heading to Paris for fashion week; you’ve been eating the looks down!! His eyes beamed, smile almost ear to ear. 

“Awe, thanks truly! you say returning a smile. He went on a rant about other celebrities’s fashion looks while you zoned out and watched the numbers count down.

“Is it okay if I get a picture?” The elevator dings, opening the doors. The driver Leo was standing there waiting to take your luggage.

“As much as I would love to, I have a flight to catch. I'm so sorry.” Hurrying out of the elevator, you wave bye. Leo opens the door for you before loading the luggage, and Dezzy hugs you immediately.

“It’s so good to see you!!“ She says, rubbing your back.

“Same to you! How have you been?! How was Egypt?”

“Ugh. I’m so glad I listened to you; it was amazing!!”

You nod, smiling, grabbing lip liner and a hand mirror out of your purse.

“The food, the people, and Aswan! There’s so much history there! We all need to take a trip back there.”

“Definitely!” 

Watching you put on your brown lipliner, she smirks. “But enough about me. Let’s talk about you and Jojo.”

“Me and Jojo?” You questioned, putting on lip gloss. Leo starts the car up.

“You ladies alright back there? Need any air turned on? Windows let down?”

“No, we’re good, thank you!” You all respond in unison.

“Yeah, you and Jojo. Last night on Dom's story.”

“Oh! Girl, we were just dancing.”

“JUST DANCING!? The way she was singing to you! Ooh, I got my eyes wide open. (Open)”

“Dez.”

“Want to but I can’t focus ‘cause. I been holdin’ onto us, us.”

“Dezzy.”

“ I’m still hopin’ (Hopin’). We can leave the bed soakin’ wet.”

“Opennnn. Us, us. Hopin’. Wet, oh.”

“DESTINY, DAMN!”

She laughs. “Okay, fine. I quit.”

✄╰U╯

Your assistant Zion and Bsf/n’s assistant were already on the jet when you hadd arrived. Reading a book and then falling asleep was the only thing on your mind. After loading the jet and taking off, you grabbed your blanket and headphones and started reading.

“So when were you gonna tell me about you and Tish?” Bsf/n asks, smirking.

Not looking up from your book, you respond. “What do you mean?”

“You all sneaking away last night.”

“How did you—?  Maze.”

“All I said was that Fidji went around asking people if they had seen Tish.” She raises her hands. “Nothing more.”

“Right! Had Yazmine and Jojo stressed trying to stop her from searching.” They all laughed. “Where were y'all anyway?” BSF/N inquired.

You cleared your throat. “Um. Your office.”

“Excuse me, what?”

“Your office.” The jet went silent.

“My office. Doing what?” She blinked. You closed your book slowly, running your hands along the bridge of your nose.

“She kinda... went down on me…-but it was against the door!”

“Against the door!?  Like that makes it any better. Was it at least good?”

“It was great. Amazing even.”Hands over your eyes, exhaling. “But it was ... a mistake.”

✄╰U╯

 It was the last day of fashion week, and Jojo’s birthday was tomorrow. Since Maze has to fly back to London after the show and Dezzy flies to Johannesburg tomorrow night, you guys went clubbing. The four of you were worn out but had so much fun. Today's show was for Alexander McQueen, the show at which you hoped to successfully avoid Tish once again.

Leo opens your door, and your legs glisten in the sunlight as you step out. Zion opened the door for Maze and helped her out. You’d chosen a red off-shoulder slightly sheered ruffle dress with a corset-like back, pairing it with gold open-toe heels. Maze chose a black, long-sleeved, ruffled, maxi dress that showcased her curves, pairing it with black heels. You waved, signed autographs, and took pictures with supporters. 

Zion ushered you to let the photographers take your pictures while Maze waited at the entrance with Bsf/n and Dezzy. As you were doing a ‘look over your shoulder ‘ pose, Tish’s car pulled up. Both of you immediately make eye contact with each other as she gets out, and you look back at the camera taking the last shot. 

A short white woman greets you as you proceed into the venue and directs you to your seats. You and bsf/n were placed side by side in the first row since you were ambassadors, while Maze, Zion, and Dezzy were placed behind you. 

“I’m going to the bathroom,” says Bsf/n. You nodded and went to greet some familiar faces. 

✄╰U╯

Waking back to your seat, you overhear Jojo arguing with someone near a hallway not too far from you.

“You can’t come back around here smiling like everything’s nice and dandy. All you had to do was pick up the phone and call! But I’m not surprised, since all you do is ghost your friends over any nigga that shows you the slightest bit of attention!”

It was Eva…

“Jojo…I’m sor-.”

“Sorry? You're sorry? I’m not the one you need to be apologizing to!” Jojo clenches her teeth.

“It was complicated,” says Eva. A stifled laugh escapes Jojo’s lips.

“You played in her face for almost 5 months, knowing that she was feeling you! And don’t act like you didn’t know. The flowers, trips, the fucking parties, and events.” Eva glances down, biting her lip. There was silence as Jojo rubbed her forehead.

“How is she?”

“She’s fine.”

“Look. I admit I screwed up alright! It..it’s just things got confusing…..and the lines got blurred.“ The lights dimmed, knocking you out of your trance, and you hurried back to your seat.

✄╰U╯

 It wasn’t until after five models came out that Bsf/n tapped your hand, whispering.

“A-Am I trippin’ or is that Tamara sitting two seats from Tish?” As you look towards that direction, Tamara smiles and waves. You return the gesture.

“Nah you definitely seeing what you seeing.”

✄╰U╯

The show wraps and everyone disperses. “I’m heading to the bathroom,” says Fidji.

“Alright,” Tish sits down and begins waiting.

She looks around hoping to spot you in the crowd. After a while her head comes to a halt. There you were leaning on the wall talking to Jojo and Dezzy. She couldn’t help but smile seeing how beautiful you looked. Last night she’d been pacing in her suite trying to decide whether or not to drive to your place. There were so many things running through her mind.

‘Would she listen to me?’, ‘What if she doesn’t feel the same anymore?’

✄╰U╯

Meanwhile….

Eva is washing her hands as Fidji comes out of the stall.  

“Rekindling old bonds must be tough huh?” Fidji washes her hands. 

Drying her hands, Eva looks up at her in the mirror. “Excuse me do I know you?”

“No. But your cousin does considering she had a lot to say in my DM’s.” Fidji fixes her hair.

Eva looks at her perplexed. “You must be Fidji.”

“That is I, she is me.” Fidji smirks. 

“Well, you must know whatever you and Tish have going on isn’t gonna last very long. You see, Tish is a lover girl. She wants someone to love up under and be their shadow.”

“Is that a threat?”

Eva smirks. “Oh of course not sweetie. You just need to worry when she goes looking for it in her special place,” she grabs her purse and walks out the door.

✄╰U╯

Meanwhile….

A few seconds later she hears a smooth voice. “She seems nice.” Tish looks up and sees Tamara sitting next to her.

“Uh.. y-yeah she’s cool. How are you?”

“I'm good! Currently working on a new project so there’s that. How bout you?

“So far so good. Just tryna have some fun before getting back in the field.” Tish turns her head forward. Tamara’s eyes bored into the side of Tish’s face, taking in the sight of her jawline, lips, and nose.

“For what it’s worth, I miss what we had.”

“Tam. Don’t do this.” Tish sighed. 

“We had something. Something meaningful. And….you can’t tell me you didn’t feel it too.”

“Remember how we agreed to not catch feelings? We were just two lonely people, in an apartment.” Tamara nods slowly and looks toward Jojo and Fidji as they walk over. Both of them stand.

“So, you gonna introduce us to your friend?” Fidji rubs Tish's shoulder.

“Tamara, these are my friend Fidji and you already know Jojo so.” Tamara shakes their hands and smiles.

“It’s nice to finally meet you! Your performance in ‘Silent Twins’ was phenomenal!” Fidji rejoiced.

“Thank you so much! Well, you all have a wonderful time in Paris!”

“You too!” They all nod as she walks away.

“Tish, the cars are here if you’re ready,” says Yazmin.

“Good! I’m hungry as hell and I got reservations to make.” Jojo rubs her stomach.

✄╰U╯

You were getting ready to head to the rooftop for Jojo’s birthday dinner when you heard a knock on the door. “Who is it?” You shout, walking through the suite.

“Une grosse salope de Tottenham.”( A big booty bitch from Tottenham).

You laugh and open the door. “Really Dezzy? You better stop before they put you out.”

“Bsf/n owns the hotel.”

“Exactly.” You both chuckle and step out, walking to the elevator.

 “Ouuu, You look cute!”

“You know, luh calm fit, nothin’ too extravagant,” you spin around. You wore [insert outfit description]. A black and gold Van Cleef rested right between your breasts, along with an arm cuff and matching bracelet.

“Tryna look cute for the birthday girl I see,” she says tapping your butt.

“Like I said before-.” You step into the elevator and press the floor to the rooftop restaurant.

“You’re just friends. I know. I know, but leave your options open since Dr. Wright wants to act up.”

 You side-eye her. “Jojo wouldn’t do anything like that, they’re tight,” you insisted, fixing the bow on her gift. The doors to the elevator open, you two stepping out.

“Girl, please! She practically wanted to slurp you up. Ooh, I got my eyes wide open-.” Dezzy walks close behind you, singing.

“Want to but I can’t focus ‘cause. I been holdin’ onto u-.”

As you get closer to the table you murmur, “ Dezzy!”

The restaurant was practically empty, as Bsf/n had closed it down for the next few hours. 

“DIRTY THIRTY!!” You say, hitting a little shimmy and hugging Jojo. Everyone laughs. She smiles, hugging you back.

“Happy Birthday!!” Dezzy hugs Jojo. You hand her the gift before taking a seat next to Bsf/n, Jojo sitting across from you. As drinks were brought out, Tish walked in, hugging Jojo. 

“Where’s Fidji?” Jojo questioned.

“She left something in her room.” Tish greets everyone else and sits next to Jojo. Fidji walks over and greets everyone. You couldn’t help but notice how her skirt was backwards as she proceeded to sit next to Tish.

Leaning back and taking a sip of ‘2019 Chateau Haut-Brion’, you make eye contact with Bsf/n. She pursed her lips, bringing a glass to her lips. “She left something alright,” she murmured.

It had been around an hour into dinner when the cake was brought out. Jojo already opened her gifts and a hotel employee took them up to her room. ‘AMBRÉ’S INTERLUDE by DESTINE CONRAD ft AMBRÉ’ plays lowly throughout the restaurant. Everyone sang happy birthday and gave their toast. 

Throughout the whole hour, Tish had been making constant eye contact with you. You could've sworn you felt her foot rub your leg at one point.

“Well, I hate to leave but I have a flight to catch in 2 hours,” Dezzy pouts, kissing Jojo on the cheek. She hugs everyone before embracing you and whispering. “Bless your boo with a gift tonight.” You hit her playfully and squint.

“Imma get you the next time I see you. Watch, just watch.”

“Yeah, yeah we’ll see,” she turns and walks towards the elevator.

“TEXT ME WHEN YOU LAND!!” You shout.

“YES, MOM!” 

Everybody laughs.

“Yeah, Imma head up. I have another show in the morning.” Tish hugs Jojo. Fidji rubs Tish’s hip as she stands up.

“Alright, Goodnight!" You say in Unison.

She grabs her jacket and walks towards the elevator. 

✄╰U╯

After around thirty minutes everyone decided to call it a night. You and Bsf/n were last to leave the table. As you stood up to grab your purse, you noticed Tish left her phone. Turning it over, you seen her lock screen was a picture of you both covered in snow as she kissed your cheek. The picture was taken last year after the ‘Wakanda Forever’ press tour. She’d flown back in from Jamaica and wanted to see you before she left. The corner of your mouth perked up. You walk into the elevator and Bsf/n presses the number to floor you both shared.

“Whose is that?”

“Tish’s.”

“You want me to take it down for you?”

“Nah, I got it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” 

The elevator opens to her floor. “Okay, well goodnight and text me once you made it in.” She hugs and kisses you on the cheek before stepping off. The doors close and you press Tish’s floor. 

Exhaling hard, you step off and walk towards her suite. The hallway felt as though it was getting longer the further you walked, only making your heart beat faster. Knocking on her door you whispered to yourself. “Just drop it off and go, drop it and-……. go.” Fidji opens the door, causing your voice to drop an octave.

“Oh! Hi. I just wanted to drop this off,” you hold up the phone. “She left it on the table.” Tish walks behind her and opens the door fully. You acknowledge that both their clothes are still intact and give a closed-lip smile. “Yeah, j-just dropping this off.” You hand her the phone.

“Thanks!” She smiles softly. Both of you stand there for a second, looking at each other. 

“Um. Well, goodnight,” you wave and start walking towards the elevator. The words fade as you walk away. As you’re unlocking your door Jojo steps out of her room. 

“Thanks for tonight.” Her voice startles you.

“Girl you don’t sneak up on black folk like that!” Eyes wid, grabbing your chest.

“I’m sorry.” You both laughed.

“You good and I’m glad you enjoyed yourself!” ‘Sinnerman by Nina Simone’ plays on TV in her suite. “Wait a minute! Are you watching ‘Lovecraft Country’?” ‘Sinnerman, where ya gonna run to?’

“Maybe. Wanna join me?” She asks, smiling.

“Hmmm.” You squint and put your finger on your chin. “Can we have popcorn?”

“Yeah.”

“Then we got a deal. Lemme go change and I’ll be right over.”

“Okay.”

✄╰U╯

You were both sitting on the couch in your pajamas, with a bowl of popcorn separating you from one another. You were on episode three where Letty called on the ancestors inside the basement.

“This scene brings me to tears every time. It was so freaking powerful!” You say, eyes glued to the screen.

“Plus, the gospel music. Gives me the chills, honestly. Damn, I wish they hadn’t canceled this show” Jojo muttered.

“Right! It was just too real for people and they couldn’t take it.” You grab a handful of popcorn.

She stares at you for a minute as you keep looking at the screen. Smiling, “We should do this more often.” You look at her and smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll like that.”

PART 4/?

Disclaimer:  I don’t hate Miracle Spring Water, she’s a beautiful girl but she does shit that makes my ass itch.

✄╰U╯

Your lips parted as sweet moans filled the air. Her eyes filled with longing, watching the beautiful sight of you anchored to her. Bodies move slowly illuminated by the moon, her fingers trickling down your spine. Holding you tighter as your legs straddle her. She pressed her lips to yours. Tongue seeping into your mouth,teeth tugging at your lower lip. Chest rising and falling with every thrust. The softness of her skin pulls you closer to your high. Eyes shifting, vision blurred as she burrows herself deeper inside you. “Fuuckkk,” you whimper breathlessly as your walls clasp around her strap and ecstasy overshadows you. Your head falls back and she places sweet kisses along your jawline. “You look so beautiful with me inside you,” the sound of her voice causes your hips to buck even further. Your eyes are blown as she kisses your neck, the coldness of her grills causing you to shiver. Core tightening and legs shaking as she holds you in place. “C’mon, baby nice and sl-.”

Your eyes pop open as you sit up and look around. The TV is still on and Jojo’s sound asleep on the other end of the couch. Rubbing your face and sighing, you grabbed your phone off the coffee table. Turning it over, you see “1:17 a.m.” You set the popcorn on the table and turn off the TV before fixing the blanket across Jojo’s body, lifting her head to add a pillow and fixing her bonnet. Her eyes moved a little as she pulled the blanket up further.

You slip your phone into your pajama shorts and tip-toe towards the door, look over your shoulder as you turn the knob slowly. Once on the other side, you close it and hear a click. The light on the card pad turns red indicating that it’s locked. Looking around, you walk across the hall. 

As quickly as you unlocked your door, the quicker it closed. Head resting against the door, eyes shut. You walk to the suite’s kitchen and grab a bottle of water. Twisting the cap off and taking a sip you zone out. 

“The shit does only look good a night.” You mumbled, staring at the Eiffel Tower.

Taking another sip you hear a knock on the door. Sitting the water down, you walk over. 

“Who is it?”

“It's me.”

Placing your hand on the knob, you shut your eyes. Exhaling, you open the door to see Tish standing in her silk pajamas. You both stare at each other before she speaks.

“Sorry to wake you….I-I couldn’t sleep.”

You move out the doorway, gesturing for her to come in. She walks in slowly, looking around. Closing the door, you walk towards the kitchen.

“Can I get you anything? A bottle of water..? Tea?” 

“No, I’m good. Thanks!” She sits on, one end of the couch. You grab your water off the counter and walk to the couch. Sitting crisscrossed on the other side, you look out the window in deep thought. Tish uses this time to take in your features. Tracing the outline of your lips, the sparkle brought to your eyes by the Eiffel Tower, and the arch of your brows. “Are you alright?” she asked.

The room gets cold, causing you to twitch .“Yeah, I’m fine just tired that’s all. So, what’s keeping you up?”

“Everything.” She smirks, laughing slightly.

Giving her a tight-lipped smile, you nod.

“Fidji approached Eva earlier at the show. In the bathroom…”

“Who told you that?” Raising a brow.

“Jojo…she did it while I was talking to Tamara. Then she smiled in my face like nothing happened.”

“Mhm.” You look over to the side.

“You want me to be honest?” You take a sip of water.

She nods, fidgeting with her fingers.

“You gotta talk to her. She obviously feels some kind of way. Rather its insecure…jealous, she wants something. Sh-She wants you. And maybe what she’s doing isn’t working so, she’s trying to emulate someone who once….or…still has your eye.”

She shakes her head. “ N-No, I haven’t spoken to her in months,” she denied.

“Right. Well, does she know about Tamara?” 

“Ehhh.”

“Tish.”

“I mean we’re not official or anything, just feeling each other out.”

You nod, grabbing your phone out to check the time. It reads “1:52 a.m.”

“What time you gotta be at the show?”

“10:00.”

You get up to grab a blanket and pillow from the bedroom. “Well, it's going on 2 a.m. and you need to get some sleep.”

As you walk out she quickly blurts, “I don't wanna be alone.” 

Holding the pillow and blanket by your hips, you lean on the entryway and look towards the bedroom.

“C’mon,” you toss the pillow at her.

Tish catches it and follows you to the bedroom. You place your phone on the charger, sliding off your slippers and pulling back the cover, you look at her as she does the same. You lay on your side with your back facing her, looking out the window. She fiddles with the edge of her pillow, glaring at the back of your head.

Closing your eyes you said, “goodni-.”

“Can I hold you?”

Your whole body tensed up, and your eyes widened.

“Huh?”

“Can I hold you? I just… want someone to be close to right now.”

Turning over to look at her, you noticed a sparkle in her eyes.

“Sure,” you nodded. 

She opened her arms, pulling the cover in the air as you scooted over. Your back now rested on her chest as she pulled the cover over both of you and wrapped her arms around your waist. She took in your warm scent and rested her head on the pillow.

“Goodnight,” you whispered.

“Goodnight.”

✄╰U╯

Meanwhile….

Duvet pulled to her chest, covering her naked body. Fidji sat up in bed with her head against the bed frame, as Kamau poured two glasses of scotch. “He wants an update on our situation,” he said passing her the glass and sitting down. 

“So, that's why you came here,” she scoffed and took a sip. He stood up, walking towards the window. 

“Look, I’m not here to argue with you. I just wanted to check the progress on our soon-to-be client.” He emphasized the last four words.

“She’s fine.”

“Ah ah, why so defensive? You like her don’t you eh?” He said, mimicking a Congolese accent.

Fidji takes a sip, glaring at him. 

“So, I stand correct. Your fathers going to have a fit.” He shakes his head smiling.

She side-eyes him, setting her glass on the nightstand and grabbing her dress from the floor.

“I mean of course he won’t care that you like to bocat from time to time but more so on a potential client.”

Sliding into her silk dress, she rolls her eyes.

“Can you zip me up?”

He sets the glass down and walks over. 

“We haven’t done anything, we’re just… talking. Plus you both told me to do whatever I had, to get the account.” He zips her dress.

She glanced around the hotel room and grabbed her purse. Sliding on her red heels and walking towards the door.

“Yeah, but we didn’t mean it like that. This account is huge and having more celebrity clientele with help sway the board to expand. And expansion means more money, more money more pro-.” Fidji opens the door.

“Properties got it. Now when I get back to London, you and Dezmon can break down your little plan. In the meantime, I have a fashion show at 10, so goodnight.” Closing the door on Kamau’s face she exhales deeply as she walks down the hall.

✄╰U╯

You wake up to the sun beaming on your face and the alarm going off.

“Ughh.” 

Grabbing the phone and turning off the alarm, you plop face down on the pillow and scream. After lying there for a second, you remember the sleeping body next to you and slowly turn your head. A sigh of relief washes over you as you realize she’s not there. Although you’re relieved, you wish she’d said goodbye. Biting your lower lip, you check the time on your phone, “10:37 a.m.”

You make up the bed and walk to the bathroom. In the process, you stubbed your toe on the edge of the shower door and almost tripped on a heel.

“F-Fuck fuck fuck…. shit!”

You grab your foot, shutting your eyes and biting back a scream.

Taking a deep breath you look at yourself in the mirror. Wiping the greasy stain off your forehead and cheek, you proceed to brush your teeth. Leaning your back on the sink and opening Instagram, you see a picture of Jojo, Daniel Kaluuya, and Tish at the Chanel fashion show. She wore a matching navy blue suit set with trousers, a cropped blazer, and black-heeled boots. Smiling, you liked the picture and finished brushing your teeth. You showered and washed your face, then grabbed your body care from the sink.

As you moisturize your body, your phone rings. You answered, seeing as it was Bsf/n.

“Good morning!”

“Good morning! So, how’d it go?!!” You could practically hear her cheesing through the phone.

“How’d what go?” Your brows knitted together as you put on your underwear.

“Ya know! You and Dr. Wright.”

“Gir- I just dropped off the phone and left.”

“That's it?”

“Yeah, I mean her girl answered the door. I ended up falling asleep while binge-watching ‘Lovecraft Country’ with Jojo, had a sex dream ….then me and Tish cud- well fell asleep with each other. Intertwined. With each other… in a way.” Rambling as you slide on your low-rise cargos.

“W-Wait, what? Sex dream?! Intertwined?”

“She couldn’t sleep, so we talked. Then she didn’t wanna sleep alone, so we cuddled and fell asleep. No biggie.” You shrugged putting on a black bralette and a long-sleeved, off-shoulder crocheted sweater.

“NO BIGGIE!?!! And don’t glance over the sex dream!! Y’all practically fucked, now this! Imma need a damn cigarette!”

Laughing, you tucked one side of the sweater under the bralette, showcasing your waist beads and stretch marks. You put on your jewelry and packed the rest into your suitcase.

“Well, are you at least packed up and ready to go?”

“Yep. All set!” Your phone chimed. “Dezzy landed safely.”

“Alright, good! Oh! Ojay and Sammy are gonna meet us once we land.”

“Oh lord, Ojay!”

“What?, Bsf/n questioned. 

“I forgot his damn pound cake. He gon’ kill me then throw my body in the Hudsonnn!!!” You whined.

Bsf/n busts out laughing. Your phone chimes again and it's a text from an unknown number. It reads the following:

“Jamavar, Second Floor Saturday @ 7. Come alone.”

“Jamavar?” You mumble, eyebrows furrowed.

“Huh?”

“Nothin’, I’ll um meet you in the lobby in 20.”

“O-Oh! Okay. Bye-bye.”

“Bye.”

Slowly sitting on the bed, you text back. “Who is this?” 

Bubbles pop up, but no response. You put on your sneakers and look up at the window. Sighing, you roll your suitcase case towards the front door. Doing a once over to see if you left anything, you notice a necklace peaking from behind the couch pillow. After grabbing it, you immediately noticed it was Tish’s since it was silver. The words “With love, from Fidji” were engraved on the back of a heart pendant.

“Mhm.” you put it in your back pocket. 

Opening and locking the door, you began to walk towards the elevator. Once on, you greeted the man and pulled out your phone to text Tish. 

“You left your necklace, I’ll leave it with the concierge.”

She immediately texted back, “Thank you!❤️” 

Before you can respond she says:

“And thanks for last night, I slept like a baby. Also, I’m so sorry for just up and leaving. You looked so beautiful and peaceful, I didn’t wanna wake you.”

In the midst of responding, you glanced up. The man smiled at you and you returned it. The elevator door opened and you got off. Seeing Leo waiting to take your bags, you greet him. As he takes your bags, you walk over to the concierge desk. In front of you is the man from the elevator. 

“Check out for Kamau Elenga, please.”

You look around waiting. Once he finally moved the woman at the desk greets you with a big smile.

“Bonjour, Mme L/n ! Mme Bsf L/n vous a déjà examiné.” (Good afternoon, Ms. L/n! Ms. Bsf L/n already checked you out)

“Bon après-midi! Et je sais, je voulais juste déposer ça.” (Good afternoon! And I know, I just wanted to drop this off) 

Holding up the necklace. “C'est celui de Mme Wright.” (It's Ms. Wright's)

Kamau overhears the conversation as he waits for his driver. She grabs a small dust bag from the drawer and you gently place the necklace inside. “Ok, c'est tellement pour toi!” (Okay, thank you so much) You smile.

“Pas de problème! (No problem!) Voyages en toute sécurité!” (Safe travels!) She smiles and assists the next person. Kamau watches as you walk to the car and Leo peeps, sizing him up. Once you get in the car, Bsf/n hugs you immediately. 

“You’re suffocating me!” You said, strained.

“Oh! Sorry!” You both laughed. 

“You ladies all set?” Leo questioned. He watched as Kamau handed his bags to the driver parked in front of you.

“Yep! All good!” You both said in unison.

“Hmm. Fuck is up with this guy?” He mumbled and pulled off.

What is he up to?….

[svnk1ssd]

Is this fandom still alive??!?!???!???

IM CRYIMG BC I DONT THINK IT IS