Been Playing Janelle Monaes Fine Ass Entire Discog From Top To Bottom While At Work. I Love A Fruity,

been playing janelle monae’s fine ass entire discog from top to bottom while at work. i love a fruity, funky sci-fi soul moment. she channels prince, rick james, teena marie, and so many others so well. her art is like the gayest, most theater kid shit ever and i am living

2. "it's been a long time" | Letitia Wright x Reader

Summary: Will a familiar face reignite the spark you thought was lost?

Rating: PG

Genre: Romance, slow-burn

Word Count: 1911

A/N: So I’m back for day 2 of fictober! As always, feedback is appreciated. Enjoy!

Taglist: @lyfeofbilly @prettymrswright @onyxstones-world

The evening sky over London was in that strange twilight zone between “charmingly moody” and “probably going to rain on you at the worst possible time.” The kind of night that made you grateful for indoor events, even if that event happened to be your high school reunion.

You stood just outside the venue—a modest hotel ballroom near the Thames—mentally bracing yourself. Who even goes to these things willingly? Most people would rather delete all evidence of their teenage years, not voluntarily relive them with people who last saw them in braces and questionable fashion choices. But here you were, about to step back into a room full of people who probably remembered you as that awkward girl who tripped over a bench on Sports Day.

“Just get through it,” you muttered to yourself, taking a deep breath and pushing open the door.

Immediately, you were hit with a wave of nostalgia—both good and bad. The venue had tried for elegance, but it felt more like someone had half-heartedly Googled “classy” and ran with the first result. Large printouts of yearbook pictures, of all things, lined the entryway, and there was a photo booth where people were already cramming themselves for awkward snapshots.

You hadn’t taken more than a few steps before Jamie Winters—the man who looked like he was still mentally stuck in Year 11—bounded over to you with a wide grin.

“Hey! You made it!” he exclaimed, already launching into some story about football and glory days.

You nodded along, sipping the cheap wine you picked up near the door, though your mind was elsewhere. You hadn’t come here for Jamie Winters and his incessant recounting of a single goal he made during a game none of you remembered. No. There was only one reason you were here tonight.

And then you saw her.

Letitia stood on the far side of the room, her warm brown skin glowing under the lights and her long, toned legs appearing out of a sleek skirt suit. She was in conversation with a few other classmates, though it was clear she wasn’t paying much attention to them. Her eyes scanned the room, and when they found you, they lit up with unmistakable recognition.

A jolt of nerves hit your stomach. This wasn’t like seeing an old friend; it was more like facing an unresolved chapter of your life. In high school, the two of you had hovered around each other, never quite breaking into that next level, despite a connection you couldn’t explain. You hadn’t spoken to her since graduation. No texts, no social media, nothing.

You hadn’t realized how much you missed her until right now.

Letitia’s smile widened, and without breaking her gaze, she excused herself from the group and started walking toward you. The crowd seemed to part for her effortlessly, like she commanded the room with just her presence. She always had that quiet, easy confidence—the kind that made you simultaneously want to be around her and feel totally inadequate in her orbit.

When she reached you, she grinned and said, “Well, well. If it isn’t the bookworm. How’ve you been?”

Your throat went dry, but you managed a casual smirk. “It’s been a long time.”

Letitia let out a laugh, one of those soft, genuine ones that made your heart skip. “Yeah, too long. Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“I could say the same thing,” you replied, trying to keep your cool despite the fact that your pulse was doing its best to sabotage you. “I figured you’d be too busy, you know, taking over the world.”

“Hardly,” she said, leaning in a little as if sharing a secret. “But I did come back to London, and apparently this reunion was calling my name. You?”

You shrugged. “Same. Still here. I’m a glutton for punishment, I guess.”

Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “You always were. Remember Mr. Thompson’s history class? I swear you were the only one who actually cared about that ridiculous essay on the Tudors.”

You groaned, covering your face. “Don’t remind me. I had a lot of misplaced academic ambition.”

She tilted her head, still smiling, though now there was something softer in her expression. “It suited you. You always knew where you were going, even if the rest of us were just trying to survive.”

That caught you off guard. You hadn’t realized she’d noticed you at all, not in the way you noticed her. “Yeah, well, I don’t think anyone really knows where they’re going at sixteen.”

Letitia raised an eyebrow. “Maybe. But you were always different. Still are.”

The compliment landed square in your chest, and suddenly, it felt like there wasn’t enough air in the room. You could sense the shift in the conversation, the same subtle tension that had always hovered between you two.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Letitia said abruptly, glancing toward the dance floor, where a few people were trying and failing to get some kind of party started. “I don’t think we really belong at this cringe fest, do you?”

“God, no.” You laughed, relieved and intrigued by the sudden suggestion. “Where should we go?”

“I know a place,” she said, winking as she turned and headed toward the door.

You followed her out into the night, the cool air a welcome change from the stuffy ballroom. She led you down a few winding streets, the sounds of the city wrapping around you like a familiar melody. Eventually, you found yourselves at a quiet, little pub—warm lights spilling out onto the pavement, the hum of conversation just loud enough to feel lively but not overwhelming.

As soon as you stepped inside, you felt more at ease. Letitia slid into a booth near the back, her low-cut hair appearing to dazzle under the dim light. You sat across from her, the table between you suddenly feeling like both a barrier and a bridge.

She took a sip of her drink and looked at you thoughtfully. “You know,” she said slowly, “I always thought we’d stay in touch after school.”

Your breath hitched. “Yeah…same.”

She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Then why didn’t we?”

You didn’t have a good answer. Or maybe you did, but it wasn’t something you were ready to admit. “Life, I guess. Things just…got in the way.”

Letitia watched you for a long moment, then nodded. “Yeah. But maybe we can change that now.”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she said, smiling that slow, knowing smile that made your heart do flips, “maybe it’s not too late to pick up where we left off.”

You stared at her, trying to read the depth in her gaze. The tension between you was thick, almost tangible, and yet there was an ease to it too—like the two of you were finally stepping into a moment that had been years in the making.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Letitia beat you to it, her voice low and full of promise.

“Besides,” she said with a playful smirk, “we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

Or as Strunk and White said in Elements of Style (to the best of my memory), "Feel free to ignore everything in this book rather than write something inelegant."

literally sitting on top of several unpublished new series and chapters. just last night at like 2 AM i couldnt sleep and plot mapped an entire story based upon one line in janelle’s float 😩

“say listen lil mama, you like shibari, watch while i show you the ropes”

Crazily enough, I’m jamming to my faves playlist and realize yesterday’s prompt has a similar name to Janelle’s song Know Better 🫣

3. “I know you better” | Janelle Monáe x Reader

Summary: There's no way your boss is jealous of your coworker, right?

Rating: Mature

Genre: Romance, smut

Word Count: 2759

A/N: Back for Fictober Day 3! This time with spice. Feedback always appreciated <3

Taglist: @lyfeofbilly @prettymrswright @onyxstones-world

You were fiddling with the coffee machine, determined to figure it out without spilling coffee everywhere, when—

“Boo!”

You jumped, nearly spilling your cup. “Victoria!” you shouted, spinning around. “Seriously?”

Victoria leaned against the counter, grinning, her bright brown eyes full of mischief. “What? You looking way too focused on that. I had to.”

“I’m trying not to break it,” you muttered, shaking your head. “That’s basically my goal today—don’t break anything.”

Victoria laughed, her balayaged hair bouncing as she flipped it back into place with her claw clip. “Good job then, sis. You ain’t explode anything yet, did you?”

“Not yet,” you sighed. “But there’s still time. Director Robinson’s probably waiting for me to mess up her schedule again.”

Victoria raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You still stressing over that? It ain’t like she would fire you. She’d have to start doing her own work if she did.”

“She’s not that bad,” you said, a little defensively. “She’s just… different.”

Victoria’s grin widened. “Different, huh? Like the singing in the middle of meetings or showing up to work dressed like an extra on the Purple Rain set?”

You crossed your arms. “So what? She’s quirky. That doesn’t mean she’s not good at her job.”

“I mean, sure,” Victoria said, laughing softly, “but let’s keep it a buck, it’s hard to take her seriously when she’s humming Rick James in the elevator.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little. “Okay, fine, she’s a little weird. But she’s under a lot of pressure. Plus, she’s actually really nice.”

“Oh, I know she’s nice,” Victoria said, “just… not in a ‘boss’ way. More like a freaky auntie.”

You snorted. “She’s definitely got her own style.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Victoria said with a wink. “But look, you only been here a few months, and you’re already on top of it. If you got past the singing and outfits, you should be alright.”

You laughed, feeling some of the tension ease. “Thanks. I’m just trying not to get fired.”

“Girl, please,” Victoria said, waving you off. “You’re her right hand. She’d probably get lost in her own office without you.”

“Yeah, because marketing’s so much less chaotic, right?” you teased, finally starting to relax.

“Hey, at least we don’t get musical numbers in the middle of the day,” Victoria shot back, grinning. “But if you need a break from all that, I’m always up for lunch. We can talk shit about my punk ass supervisor.”

“Deal,” you said, smiling. “And thanks for the jump scare. You really know how to brighten someone’s day.”

“Anytime,” she said, raising her mug. “Here’s to surviving another day with our sanity mostly intact.”

“Barely,” you said, clinking your cup against hers.

You and Victoria were in the middle of laughing when Director Robinson appeared in the doorway, catching you both off guard. She leaned in with an easy, almost casual smile. Her short frame was draped in a burnt orange suit, adorned with funky accessories that somehow worked despite their oddity. Her chocolate skin seemed to glow against the bold color, and your gaze lingered on her long eyelashes and babydoll-like face, framed by doe eyes, soft cheeks, and a button nose. You felt a strange flutter in your chest, an unexplainable warmth as you took in her beauty, though you couldn’t quite understand why.

“Well, well, well,” she said smoothly, her voice cutting through the room like velvet. “Look at you two, thick as thieves. I’ve been searching high and low for you.”

You straightened up, your grip tightening on your coffee cup. “Oh, sorry, Director. I was just taking a break with Victoria.”

“Mmhmm.” Robinson’s eyes flicked to Victoria, then back to you, her smile widening. “And what exactly were you discussing? I hope I’m not interrupting anything… personal.”

Victoria shot you a playful look, clearly amused. “Just catching up. Nothing too juicy, Director.”

Robinson’s gaze lingered on Victoria a little too long before she turned back to you, her smile never faltering. “Catching up, are we? How delightful. Well, Victoria, I’m sure your little corner of the building misses you desperately. Don’t let me keep you from… whatever it is you do.” Her tone remained light, almost whimsical, but there was no mistaking the undertone of dismissal.

Victoria chuckled, giving you a wink. “See you around.” And with that, she slipped out, leaving you alone with the Director, whose focus shifted entirely to you.

She took a step closer, eyes narrowing slightly in a way that made you feel like she knew more than she should. “Now, Miss,” she began, her voice low and conspiratorial. “You and Victoria seem… cozy. How long have you two been ‘catching up,’ exactly?”

You felt the heat rise to your face. “Oh, we’re just friends,” you stammered. “We used to be interns together, that’s all.”

Robinson raised an eyebrow, her smile playful yet knowing. “Mmm, I’m sure. But here’s something to think about,” she said, leaning in with a wink. “Spend too much time with Victoria, and you might catch her vibe. She’s got that energy, always looking at you a little too closely, don’t you think? Could cramp your style… unless you like that kind of attention.” She flashed a sardonic grin, as if you were both in on a secret.

You blinked, completely thrown. “Wait, you think—No, it’s not like that at all. We’re really just friends.”

Robinson’s eyes gleamed with something you couldn’t quite place. “Of course, of course,” she said, her tone smooth as silk. “Just looking out for you. I’d hate to see anything… unnecessary develop.”

You swallowed hard, feeling like you were trapped in some bizarre game. “I appreciate the concern, but seriously, there’s nothing going on.”

“Good,” the Director said, straightening up, her tone slipping back into that easy, natural flow. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to focus on than office romances. Now, let’s get back to it. I have some exciting new ideas for the filing system that are going to blow your mind.”

You followed her out, still trying to process the whole conversation, wondering how a coffee break with Victoria had spiraled into this weird, almost flirty lecture. But then again, that was Director Robinson—always leaving you more confused than when you started.

You’d been sorting through a mountain of documents for three hours, the office now eerily quiet after everyone else had filtered out. You leaned back against the desk, squinting at the papers under the dim light of a desk lamp, the glow casting a warm hue that felt strangely intimate in the silence.

Just as you were about to dive back into your work, you heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching. Before you could turn, the Director’s voice wafted over your shoulder, smooth and easy, sending a jolt of surprise through you. “You’ve really got a knack for this, you know.”

You jumped slightly, then turned your head to see her standing there, a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a relaxed smile on her lips. “Oh, hey, Director,” you said, trying to play it cool but feeling your heart race.

She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she glanced over the papers. “You’re doing a fantastic job,” she continued, her tone casual yet intimate. “Really. These documents are starting to look more like an organized masterpiece than the usual chaotic mess.”

You shifted slightly, acutely aware of her presence. “Thanks, I’m just trying to keep up.”

“Ah, but you’re more than just keeping up,” she said, gently rubbing your right shoulder as she continued to read over your left. The warmth of her touch was unexpected, sending a shiver down your spine. “It’s all about that attention to detail. Tell me, how do you manage to stay so composed while everyone else is running around like headless chickens?”

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your focus on the documents, but her proximity was distracting. “I guess I just try to stay organized. It helps me avoid mistakes,” you replied, your voice coming out steadier than you felt.

“Mmm, good approach,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee. “But let’s be honest. There’s more to life than just work, don’t you think?” She paused, her gaze lingering on you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. “What do you do for fun outside these walls?”

You felt a flutter of nerves at the question. “I—uh, not much lately. Just focusing on settling in.”

Janelle tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Just settling in, huh? No hobbies? No wild nights out? Come now, you can’t tell me a bright star like you has no scandalous stories to share.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, the way she was looking at you making it difficult to find your voice. “Not really. I’m not that interesting.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” she said, leaning in even closer, her tone conspiratorial. “I bet there’s a little rebel in you, waiting to escape. A night out, perhaps? Or maybe someone special who’s been keeping your attention?”

You chuckled nervously, trying to brush off the question. “Honestly, it’s just work. I haven’t had time for anything else.”

The Director’s laughter was warm and inviting, but it felt charged, like the air before a storm. “Poor thing, you really need learn to carve out time for yourself. Life’s too short to be all work and no play. Besides,” she added, her voice dropping to a more intimate whisper, “you should call me Janelle. No need for formalities when it’s just the two of us.”

The way she said your name sent another rush of heat through you. You nodded, the words catching in your throat. “Okay, Janelle…”

“Much better,” she said, her voice silky as she straightened up, releasing your shoulder. “Now, tell me about your ideal weekend. What does that look like for you?”

You hesitated, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around you like a blanket. “Um, I guess just hanging out with friends, maybe going out for dinner or something.”

Janelle leaned back, crossing her arms and regarding you with a mix of curiosity and mischief. “Dinner, you say? With friends or a special someone?”

You couldn’t help but fidget, the question landing heavier than expected. “Just friends. Really. I mean, it’s not like—”

Janelle interrupted, her eyes sparkling with interest. “Not like what? Come now, I promise I don’t bite… much.” She smiled, tilting her head slightly, as if genuinely interested in the answer.

You bit your lip, glancing away, feeling like you were trapped in a delicate dance. “Just friends. That’s all. Nothing romantic going on.”

Janelle studied you for a moment, and the room felt charged with unspoken tension. “Well, I’d say you’re due for a little romance, don’t you think?”

Your heart raced, a mix of excitement and trepidation swirling inside you as you met her gaze, feeling like you were teetering on the edge of something unknown.

You watched Janelle with a mixture of fascination and apprehension, her gaze intense as she leaned closer, her body practically brushing against yours. She placed her coffee down with deliberate care, the movement slow and almost theatrical, as if she were choreographing a moment.

“Really,” she said, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper, “I think what you need is someone who knows how to treat you right. Someone with a bit more... experience.”

Your heart raced as she stepped closer, effectively caging you between her body and the desk, the warmth of her presence enveloping you. The sudden proximity made it hard to breathe, and you could feel the tension in the air thicken like molasses. 

“What do you mean by ‘experience’?” you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to keep your composure.

Janelle tilted her head, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Oh, you know. Someone who understands what a woman like you truly deserves. Someone who can take charge, show you what you’ve been missing. You may think you know what you want, but…” She leaned in even closer, her eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of her gaze sending a shiver down your spine. “I know you better.”

Your heart raced as her words wrapped around you like a spell, making it difficult to form a coherent thought. “I—”

“Shh,” she interrupted, her finger gently resting against your lips. “Just imagine it. Someone who can help you unwind after a long week. Someone who knows how to treat you, to bring out that wild side you’re hiding.”

You swallowed hard, caught between the thrill of her words and the uncertainty of the moment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Janelle’s expression shifted, her gaze piercing into yours with an intensity that felt like a challenge. “Oh, but you do. Deep down, you crave something more, don’t you? Someone older, someone who knows how to navigate... complicated feelings.” She leaned in even closer, her breath warm against your skin. “Isn’t that right?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you met her gaze, the playful teasing morphing into something more serious, more alluring. It felt like she was unraveling something inside you, and you didn’t know whether to lean in or pull away.

“Janelle, I—” you started, but she cut you off again, her voice low and sultry.

“Just think about it,” she said, her body barely an inch away from yours. “You deserve to be treated like the treasure you are. Let me show you what I mean.”

The room felt charged, every word hanging in the air like a dare, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment was only the beginning of something that could change everything.

The tension in the room was electric, wrapping around you like a tightly wound coil ready to snap. Janelle's gaze locked onto yours, her presence overwhelming as she leaned closer, her body nearly pressed against yours. The air was thick with anticipation, and every second felt like a countdown to something inevitable.

“Just think about it,” she murmured, her voice low and sultry, sending shivers down your spine. “You deserve someone who knows how to bring out the real you. Someone who isn’t afraid to take what they want.”

Before you could process the weight of her words, Janelle surged forward, her lips crashing against yours with a fierce intensity that left you breathless. It was no gentle kiss; it was primal and demanding, igniting a fire deep within you. Her mouth moved against yours with a desperation that was intoxicating, a raw force that sent your heart racing.

You gasped, caught off guard, but instinct took over as you melted into her, your hands finding their way to her arms. Janelle deepened the kiss, her tongue brushing against yours with a boldness that made your head spin. The heat radiating from her body enveloped you, and you felt yourself being pulled into her orbit, losing track of everything else in the world.

Janelle’s hands gripped your waist, pushing you back against the desk, trapping you in place. The urgency of her touch sent shockwaves through you, igniting a wild craving you didn’t know you had. You could feel the tension building between you, an undeniable chemistry that simmered just below the surface.

As she pulled back slightly, her lips barely brushing against yours, you could see the hunger in her eyes—an insatiable need that mirrored your own. “I know you want this,” she breathed, her voice thick with desire. “Don’t pretend you don’t feel it.”

You blinked, your mind racing, but before you could formulate a response, Janelle closed the gap again, kissing you harder, more forcefully this time. It was as if she was claiming you, each movement deliberate and commanding, as if she were saying without words that this was where you belonged.

You were lost in the moment, your heart pounding in your chest as your body instinctively responded to her. The world outside faded away, and all that mattered was the heat between you, the way she made you feel—alive, desired, and utterly consumed.

“God, you’re perfect,” Janelle murmured against your lips, her breath warm and intoxicating. “Just give in.”

Your heart raced as her kiss deepened again, her hands roaming your sides possessively. It was a whirlwind of passion, urgency, and a hint of danger that left you craving more, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something explosive.

i wanna start writing this freaky ass JM fic so bad but i have at least 4 chapters waiting to be final drafted and posted before i can even think about starting on chapter 1. i literally reread and edit rough drafts daily for weeks before posting 😭 i wish i didn’t care so much and just posted freely

literally sitting on top of several unpublished new series and chapters. just last night at like 2 AM i couldnt sleep and plot mapped an entire story based upon one line in janelle’s float 😩

“say listen lil mama, you like shibari, watch while i show you the ropes”