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Koffee

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Celebrating Juneteenth with Girlfriend Koffee

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Letitia Wright

Series

Sorrel - Table of Contents

The Tutor Ch. 1

The Tutor Ch. 2

One shots

2. "it’s been a long time"

9. "don't listen to me, listen to them"

10. "is this normal?"

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Celebrating Juneteenth with Girlfriend Letitia

Lila Iké

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Second Chance

Janelle Monáe

One shots

3. "I know you better."

7. "follow me if you want to live."

Ari Lennox

One shots

4. "no, we're not doing that."

Dominque Thorne

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5. "it's a new day, let's go"

6. "I'm not giving up."

8. “Are we happy?”

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Fictober 2024

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Sorrel Ch. 1 | Letitia Wright x Reader

Summary: An American in London, you have recently graduated university with no job prospects so you take up a gig at a Guyanese bakery and become enthralled in the world of a regular customer. (shy!reader) (nerdy!reader)

Genre: Romance, fluff, angst

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 618

A/N: I'm going back and cleaning things up. The formatting has changed and of course, chapters progressively increase in length and quality as I get a feel for the story. I don't particulary like this first chapter, but too many people have already read it for me to completely overhaul it or triple its length lol.

It's not everyday one meets a celebrity, much less an Emmy nominee such as Letitia Wright. When Kerry offered to hook you up at her aunt's roti shop, she briefly mentioned a few of the people who happened to come through on the occasion- mainly Guyanese British influencers and entertainers seeking a taste of home. Letitia's name came up and was quickly forgotten. Your mind was stuck elsewhere in a land of bills and visa issues.

Yet now it seemed unreal. She stood by the entrance, picking up a few caramels and bottles of channa from the shelf. At about 5'5, she was a lot shorter than you'd have thought she was, but she looked effortlessly chic nonetheless.

Kerry's aunt Sharmin bustled out of the back. "Eh eh! Mi nuh see yuh in long long time!" she shouted, making her way from behind the counter to hug Letitia. You watched them embrace behind the lowered frames of your glasses, pretending to tie bags of pine tart. Letitia was beguiling. She wore a black linen button down that teased a glimpse of her clavicle with a matching pair of shorts and white sneakers. A pair of expensive looking shades sat atop her shaved head. The gold jewelry on her neck and hands glimmered in the light.

At some point you must have have given up the ruse of subtlety, because when they hugged again, Letitia looked up from Sharmin's back, across the shop, and straight into your eyes, a cheeky grin across her face.

You gathered your senses in enough time to feel some shame and play it off. As you busied yourself counting napkins, a figure stood in front of the register. "Hmmm, what shall we have today," you heard. Letitia leaned against the counter, her hands and chest inches away from you and her gaze turned upwards to the overhead menu.

You glanced around for help. Sharmin was already headed out the door for her errands and you knew you'd be alone for the next hour until Kerry's cousin clocked in.

"What do you like?" Letitia asked, her voice syrupy with a slight rasp. Her eyes were on you again. There was something so disarming about her presence and it made you a clammy, nervous mess. You stuttered through some vague, everything is good, sort of answer while your hands refused to find a normal resting position.

"Oh, are you American?" she exclaimed at the sound of your accent, her brown eyes lighting up in intrigue. "What're you doing in London?"

"Sch-school," you mutter. You silently prayed to die on the spot or for the ceiling concave to make this embarrassing moment end. Unfortunately for you, no one died and the roof remained intact. What's worse is that Letitia kept asking questions. "What are you studying?"

"Is that program at King's College?"

"Are you doing like a study abroad semester?"

"Where are you from in the U.S?"

"Wow, I was just there for a work thing! Have you seen the art museum downtown?"

The questions didn't stop and by the time she remembered what she came for, you'd already stopped breathing for a long time and filled your shoes with sweat.

"Hmmm, I'll take some tennis rolls and sorrel," she hummed. As you turned around to gather her order, you caught yourself thinking you saw her eyes slide down your body. You shook the thought out of your head and continued working. As if an Emmy-nominated actress would be interested in whatever pudge was hiding underneath your indie band tee.

Before leaving, Letitia stood at the door and asked another question across the room. "Oh, and what's your name, love?" If only the floor could swallow you whole.

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oh my gosh !au where you're a politician and koffee is your bodygaurd and at first you're doubtful of her capabilities because of her size until she proves her strength and skill and there's also angst because she feels like all politicians are corrupt and could be doing more for society and you kinda like her but you think she hates you but over time you learn more about each other and she also influences you to do good and it turns out she liked you too all along AAAAAAAAAAAAA

☕️ Comment to be added to my tag list ☕️

Sorrel Ch. 2 | Letitia Wright x Reader

Summary: An American in London, you have recently graduated university with no job prospects so you take up a gig at a Guyanese bakery and become enthralled in the world of a regular customer.

Genre: Romance, fluff, angst

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 1535

You couldn't escape Kerry's knowing smirk as soon as you walked through the door of your shared apartment. You had already flooded her phone with texts about your embarrassing encounter while at work. The second you put down your bag, she was on you.

"So, how was it?" Kerry asked, leaning against the kitchen counter with a gleam in her eye. "Were you so starstruck that you fainted into her arms?"

You tried to brush it off, heading straight to the fridge for a cold drink. "Who?" you replied nonchalantly, but your flushed cheeks betrayed you.

Kerry's grin widened. "Oh, come on. You know who. Letitia Wright. Emmy nominee. Black Panther star. Ring any bells?"

You groaned inwardly, taking a long sip of water to buy yourself time. "She was just picking up some stuff. No big deal."

"No big deal?" Kerry echoed, clearly enjoying this. "Girl, you were probably sweating bullets. Did you even manage to say a full sentence?"

"More like a half sentence," you mumbled, but she heard you anyway and burst out laughing.

Kerry had always been the outgoing one, the one who could charm a room full of strangers without breaking a sweat. She found your shyness endearing, but it was also a source of endless amusement for her. Especially now, knowing that you had been face-to-face with a celebrity.

"So, did she ask you out or what?" Kerry teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes. "She was just being friendly. Besides, she probably is chatty with everyone."

Kerry's expression softened a bit. "You know, you're pretty cute when you're flustered. But seriously, Letitia Wright? That's kind of a big deal."

You sighed, collapsing onto the couch. "I know, it's just… I never expected to meet someone like her. And she kept asking me questions! I could barely keep it together."

Kerry joined you on the couch, her tone more comforting now. "Hey, it's okay. Anyone would be nervous meeting a celebrity. And you handled it just fine."

You gave her a grateful smile, though you weren't entirely convinced. "Thanks, Kerry."

She nudged you playfully. "So, did she say anything interesting?"

You thought back to the encounter, the way Letitia's eyes had seemed to sparkle with genuine curiosity. "She asked a lot about me. Where I'm from, what I'm studying. It was almost like she actually was really interested."

Kerry's eyes lit up with excitement. "See? Maybe she was interested. Maybe she liked you."

You shook your head, but a small part of you couldn't help but wonder. "I don't know. It just seemed surreal."

Kerry wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "Well, surreal or not, it happened. And who knows? Maybe she'll come back."

You nodded, feeling a bit better. "Yeah, maybe."

Later that evening, as you settled into your cocoon of blankets and pillows with your laptop, you couldn't help but do a bit of research. You found articles about Letitia's work, interviews, and even a few personal tidbits. It was fascinating to learn more about her, to see the person behind the fame.

One article caught your eye—a recent interview where she talked about a short film she was working on in the area. The film was a passion project, something deeply personal and meaningful to her. She spoke about immigration, wanting to tell stories that mattered, and highlighting voices that often went unheard. You felt that you could relate a bit due to your own confusing legal encounters studying abroad in the U.K., although you could not imagine the amount of stress Letitia and her family must have endured immigrating almost two decades back. 

You admired her even more after reading that. It wasn't just her talent or her looks; it was her passion, her drive to make a difference. You thought of her as a child, acclimating to a new country and under pressure to assimilate juxtaposed to her now, a successful adult who seemed to juggle her Guyanese and British identities confidently. The young Letitia would definitely have been proud if she knew who she'd grow into. It made the encounter at the bakery even more special.

You thought about your own identities. You felt a bit aimless in virtually every way. 20-something years old, so too young to have things figured out, yet too old to waste time. 

The next day at the bakery, you couldn't help but feel a bit more confident. Maybe Kerry was right. Maybe there was something about you that had caught Letitia's attention. And maybe, just maybe, she'd come back.

As you worked, you found yourself daydreaming about what you would say if you saw her again. This time, you wouldn't be caught off guard. You'd have something clever and interesting to say.

The bell above the door jingled, snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked up, half expecting to see Letitia. But it was just a regular customer, a kind elderly woman who always ordered the same thing. 

You sighed, pushing the thoughts of Letitia to the back of your mind and focusing on bagging her salara and bara. But as you handed the woman her order, you couldn't help but glance at the door, hoping.

As you were leaving the bakery, the warmth of the late afternoon sun washed over you. The sky was a brilliant tapestry of oranges and pinks, signaling the end of another bustling day. The familiar scent of baked goods still clung to your clothes as you stepped out onto the cobblestone street, the air filled with the distant hum of traffic and the chatter of pedestrians.

As you locked the door behind you, you noticed a small crowd gathering down the street, a buzz of excitement and curiosity emanating from the group. Curious, you walked over, each step bringing you closer to the lively scene. The historic buildings lining the street, with their charming brick facades and quaint shop windows, seemed to frame the action perfectly.

The scene ahead was a flurry of activity. Cables snaked across the pavement, connecting large, imposing cameras to an array of monitors. Bright, portable lights were being adjusted, their glow contrasting sharply with the warm hues of the setting sun. A large boom microphone hovered over a group of people, capturing every word and sound. 

Your heart skipped a beat when you recognized Letitia among them, standing at the center of it all, talking animatedly with what must have been actors. She was dressed casually in loose jeans and a simple white tee, her gold jewelry glinting in the fading sunlight. Her shaved head gave her an air of effortless elegance, and you couldn’t help but be drawn to her vibrant energy.

Letitia's expressive gestures and animated conversation with the actors revealed a glimpse into her passion and dedication. She moved with purpose, her voice clear and confident, commanding the attention of everyone around her. The crew responded to her with a mix of respect and admiration, their focus unwavering as they listened to her ideas.

You stood at a distance, not wanting to intrude but unable to tear your eyes away. The scene unfolding before you was mesmerizing. Actors mingled and rehearsed their lines, their laughter mixing with the ambient sounds of the city. Letitia occasionally called out instructions, her voice cutting through the din.

As the crew started filming, you found yourself completely captivated by the process. It was like a glimpse into another world, one that you never thought you'd see up close. The energy was palpable, a blend of creative chaos and meticulous coordination. You watched as the scene was rehearsed and filmed, each take bringing the story closer to life.

You shifted your position slightly, trying to get a better view without being too conspicuous. That’s when it happened. Letitia glanced in your direction, her eyes sweeping over the crowd. For a brief moment, her gaze met yours, and you felt a jolt of electricity run through you. You stood frozen, your heart pounding in your chest.

Then, to your amazement, she smiled warmly and gave a small wave. It was a simple gesture, but it felt like the world had slowed down around you. You managed to lift your hand and wave back, a shy smile spreading across your face. The connection, however fleeting, felt surreal.

Letitia turned her attention back to the scene, but the brief interaction left you buzzing with excitement. You watched for a while longer, feeling a bit like a kid watching their favorite superhero come to life. The way Letitia moved, spoke, and interacted with everyone was mesmerizing.

Eventually, you tore yourself away and headed home, your mind buzzing with thoughts of Letitia and her film. Every detail of the encounter played over and over in your head. You couldn’t wait to tell Kerry about it, and you wondered if you'd ever get a chance to talk to Letitia again.

As you walked, you imagined what you might say if you saw her next time. Maybe questions about her project, or how inspiring it was to see her in action. The possibilities danced in your mind, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a spark of excitement about the future.

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The Tutor Ch. 1 | Letitia x Reader

Summary: You are a broke graduate student hustling through college when you unexpectedly land a job tutoring an actress in your native language—a language you've nearly forgotten. Instead of teaching, you find yourself becoming the student in this unexpected journey. As you fall in love for the first time, you begin to uncover profound truths about yourself and the world around you that you never knew existed.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Romance, fluff, slow-burn, comedy

Word Count: 2731

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated! If anyone wants to be added to my taglist, the link is in the pinned post on my page Taglist: @lyfeofbilly @prettymrswright

To be fair, you would—and almost had—done just about anything for money. Seriously, your resume of odd jobs looked like a carnival sideshow gone wrong. Washing cars? Check. Bagging groceries? Double check. Babysitting? Let's just say those kids still have flashbacks. Braiding hair? Sure, if they wanted a lopsided mess. Writing reports for books you never read? CliffNotes are your best friend. Music lessons for instruments you didn’t play? “Fake it 'til you make it” was your anthem.

Most of these ventures ended in irate customers hurling strong words at you, and you narrowly dodging potential assault. But hey, $40 is $40. And right now, you needed a whole bunch of those $40s, like, yesterday.

You’d printed and shared so many fliers for so many different gigs that you were like a human Rubik's Cube, colorful but often hopelessly scrambled. By now, you had no idea what the person on the other side of the phone was even talking about.

"So, is there an office address for this service?" the woman on the other end of the line asked, her voice dripping with the enthusiasm of someone waiting at the DMV.

After a thoughtful pause that was less "thoughtful" and more "panicked rummaging through mental chaos," you carefully responded, "Yes, you can trust that I have preserved a location most appropriate for our..." you leaned forward as if to coax the words out of her.

"This is the foreign language tutor, correct?" she quipped. You bit your lip to contain your celebratory noises, fighting back the urge to scream, "Jackpot!"

"Oh yes, ma'am, that is me. Totally, so yep... I do lessons at the University library or I can travel—with reimbursement included, of course," you added, trying to sound as professional as a used car salesman handing off a lemon.

She hummed thoughtfully as you spoke. "That will be $40 an hour for the first four hours and $35 afterward when you buy multiple sessions at once."

"Oh really? That's great, the flier said $60. Are you free this Saturday?" You swallowed a profanity at the realization you’d lost out on some money and pushed through with the booking. Inside, you were both cursing your past self and doing a victory dance. A gig's a gig, after all.

So there you were, the jack-of-all-trades, master of none, and not above doing something strange for some change. Because in your world, $40 could buy a lot of things—like loud shoes to wear indoors for your neighbor that liked to poke at the ceiling with a broom when you coughed or enough of the fancy Belgian chocolate you liked to eat yourself into a small coma. A lot of things...

On Saturday, you ventured out to the more upscale part of town. It was the kind of place that looked like it had springed straight out of a magazine. Each building practically whispered, "My mortgage could feed a small country."

You'd been wired enough money for two classes a week for two months, plus bus fare, which was a small victory in your book. As you stepped off the bus and onto the manicured sidewalk, you couldn't help but feel a mix of bewilderment and bitterness at the sheer luxury around you.

Looking around, you saw freshly washed windows, pristine sidewalks, and not a single piece of trash in sight. A roofless sports car purred by, driven by a guy who looked like he'd never known a day of financial stress in his life.

"Must be tough being a professional trust fund manager," you muttered under your breath, eyeing the back of the vehicle.

An impeccably dressed woman with a tiny, overly groomed dog strolled past you. "Dog Instagram influencer, probably," you thought, rolling your eyes at the absurdity.

Further down the street, a couple emerged from a boutique, laughing as they juggled bags from what must’ve been high-end stores. "Ah yes, professional yoga mat testers," you mused sarcastically. "Or maybe artisanal kombucha consultants."

As you walked a few blocks deeper into the neighborhood, you approached the address sent to you for work. It was a huge historical brownstone that filled you with intimidation. You couldn't help but marvel at the ornate door and the brass knocker shaped like a lion's head. "Sure, why not? Lion-head knockers. Probably enough to pay off student loans for my entire graduating class," you snarked internally.

Ringing the doorbell, you waited, feeling like an imposter in your own shoes. The door opened to reveal a woman who looked like she’d stepped out of a lifestyle blog, all polished and perfect. She was of a medium height, but her long, toned legs made her seem modelesque. The woman was a dark brown color and had a chicly shaved head partially obscured by a multi print silk scarf. She wore an expensive looking linen short set and minimalistic gold jewelry.

“Welcome! You must be the tutor,” she greeted you warmly. “Come on in.” She waved her thin hands to gesture inside of her home, her dark pink lips widening to reveal a set of perfect white teeth. You feigned politeness while bitterly thinking to yourself about the iniquity of someone being both so rich and so attractive while people like you were left with flabby arms, hairy toe knuckles, and crippling debt. 

Stepping into the foyer, you tried not to gawk at the marble floors and grand staircase. "Just your average entryway," you thought wryly. "Nothing says ‘welcome’ like a ceramic bust."

You followed her to a spacious study, filled with leather-bound books and more mahogany than you thought existed in the world. Sitting down, you mentally prepared for your first lesson, hoping your makeshift knowledge of the language would hold up.

In the days leading up to this tutoring gig, you thought you were being proactive. After all, you couldn't just waltz into a foreign language lesson without a clue, could you? So, you did what any desperate person would do: WhatsApp video call your cringey cousin from back home.

Your cousin was the kind of guy who thinks he's fluent in English because he once binge-watched a season of "Friends" with subtitles on. His grasp of English and your grasp of your family’s native language was about as solid as a Jenga tower in a hurricane. But hey, beggars can't be choosers.

The conversation was a comedy of errors from the get-go. You tried to explain what you needed help with, but every sentence he uttered was a linguistic train wreck. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion, but with words.

"I need help. For teach… uh… English… speak person. You speak... uh... En-guh-lish, yes?" you attempted, your own language suffering under the weight of your desperation.

"Ah, English! Yes, yes! I know Eng-guh-lish!" he exclaimed triumphantly, his confidence only slightly overshadowed by the fact that he couldn't pronounce the word correctly.

What followed was a painful exchange of broken sentences, awkward pauses, and a lot of hand gestures that made you question whether you were communicating in semaphore or a spoken language.

By the time you hung up, you felt like you knew even less than before. If anything, you'd regressed linguistically. Welp, time to wing it, you thought grimly, resigning yourself to the fact that this tutoring job was going to be a wild ride. Who needs language proficiency when you have sheer determination and a healthy dose of delusion, right?

The woman fluttered around the study murmuring to herself until she retrieved a loose stack of papers from a bag. 

“A-ha!” she chimed, turning to wave the papers at you with that same smile. She sauntered over and to your surprise, sat right next to you on the leather sofa instead of across the coffee table at one of the matching armchairs.

Up close, you noticed she had the slightest dimple in the lower left corner of her mouth and eyes that naturally set low in an effortlessly sultry gaze. There was something very classic and timeless about her looks. Like perhaps you had seen lots of women like her in commercials or in those huge luxury clothing brand displays at Macy’s.  

She placed the papers on the table before turning and facing directly towards you, extending a thin, manicured hand. “Hi, I’m Letitia,” she spoke. Her voice was soft, a bit smokey, and had a bit of an encapsulating feel.

You shook her hand and formally introduced yourself as well. “I suppose you spoke with my manager Lashana on the phone about my goals. I have a casting audition in about 2 months and think having some exposure to the language beforehand could get me a leg up, y’know? Uh… these are just some things she sent for you to sign…” she said, running off into a murmur as she handed the stack of papers to you with a fountain pen. As she moved around you caught a whiff of her dark, woody perfume. It smelled more like an expensive men’s cologne. 

For a moment you scoured your brain for any information you knew about this Letitia. You thought you might have heard Lashana mention the actress thing on the phone, but that was while you were on your other $40 gig moonlighting as an expert dog groomer. She interrupted when you were braiding the neighbor’s poodle- Fifi’s cornrows required utmost concentration so Lashana's words went in one ear and out of the other.  

You signed the papers with a flourish, then handed them back to Letitia, raising an eyebrow as you joked, “So, what exactly did I just sign away? My soul? Firstborn child?”

To your surprise, Letitia burst into laughter, a genuine, hearty sound that filled the room. It caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but notice how her whole face lit up when she laughed. Her dimple deepened, and her eyes crinkled at the corners, giving her an adorable, almost childlike quality. At that moment, she seemed less like a polished actress and more like a regular person who didn't care about looking perfect.

“You're hilarious!” she said, still chuckling as she tucked the papers back into her bag. “I think this is going to be a lot more fun than I expected.”

You felt a flush creep up your cheeks at the compliment. “Thanks,” you said, trying to play it cool. “I aim to please.”

Letitia leaned back on the sofa, her gaze curious and open. “So, tell me about yourself. How did you end up doing... well, this?”

You shrugged, deciding to be honest. “Oh, you know, just trying to make a living. I’ve done a bit of everything. Today, I’m a language tutor. Tomorrow, who knows? Maybe I’ll be wrangling llamas at a petting zoo.”

She laughed again, a light, musical sound that made you smile. “I admire that,” she said. “It takes a lot of guts to do what you do.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not exactly glamorous,” you replied, though you couldn’t help but feel a little humble amidst the fancy room. “But it keeps things interesting.”

Letitia nodded thoughtfully. “I get that. I’ve had my share of odd jobs too. Before acting, I was a waitress, a dog walker- I even dressed up as Minnie Mouse at kids’ parties once.”

You tried to imagine her in a pink polka dot dress with gloves and big, round ears, and the mental image made you laugh. “Now that I’d like to see.”

She grinned, a twinkle in her eye. “Maybe if you teach me this language, I’ll show you some of my old mouse tricks.”

“Deal,” you said, feeling more relaxed than you had all day. “Let’s get started then, shall we?”

As you began the lesson, you realized that maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad after all. Letitia’s enthusiasm was infectious, and her genuine interest in getting to know you made you feel like, for once, you weren’t just a means to an end. Maybe this gig would be a turning point—something more than just another $40 in your pocket. 

The lesson flew by in a blur of laughter, stumbles over pronunciation, and unexpected moments of connection. Before you knew it, the clock was signaling the end of your session. Letitia gathered her things, still giggling over a joke you'd made about mispronouncing a word in a way that turned it into something hilariously inappropriate.

As she walked you to the door, both of you were still caught up in the infectious energy of the lesson. “I can’t believe we spent half the time laughing,” Letitia said, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Next time I’ll have to invoice you my rate for standup as well,” you replied, grinning. 

Both of you stopped, laughter trailing off as you locked eyes, the air thick with an unspoken connection. You extended your hand for a handshake just as Letitia leaned in for a hug, and your misplaced hand awkwardly jabbed her ribs. As she toppled forward, her pillowy lips connected with your forehead in a soft, accidental kiss that sent shivers down your spine.

Time seemed to stand still. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you in that moment. Her eyes widened in surprise, the rich depths of her gaze reflecting your own astonishment. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks, your face burning with a mix of embarrassment and something more profound, something that made your heart race wildly in your chest.

Her breath, soft and warm, lingered against your skin, and for a heartbeat, everything else faded away. The delicate scent of her woody perfume enveloped you, creating an intoxicating haze that made you dizzy with longing. Her nearness, the accidental intimacy, sent a thrill through you, a sensation both terrifying and exhilarating.

The spell was broken by the sudden roar of a fast car zooming by outside, yanking both of you back to the present. The world rushed back in, loud and intrusive, yet you remained rooted in that brief, unforgettable moment.

Letitia pulled back slightly, her own cheeks tinged with a rosy hue. She laughed nervously, a melodic sound that made your heart skip a beat. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” she stammered, her voice a soft murmur of embarrassment and amusement.

“No, no, it’s fine!” you stuttered as she also spoke some unintelligible babble, the awkwardness dissipating into a shared chuckle. “That was... unexpected,” Letitia added, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Yeah, totally,” you agreed, trying to steady your racing heart. “Guess we need to work on our goodbye coordination as well.”

“Absolutely,” she smiled, a dazzling expression that made your knees weak. As she opened the door, the moment lingered in the air between you, a fragile, beautiful thing.

“Thanks again for today. I’m really looking forward to our next lesson,” she said softly, her voice like a caress.

“Me too,” you replied, your cracking voice barely above a whisper, your heart pounding. “See you next time!”

As you walked away, the memory of her accidental kiss lingered, a tender echo that made your pulse quicken and your thoughts spin. It was a moment you knew you would replay over and over, a small, perfect touch that left you breathless with anticipation for something- anything.

You mindlessly followed the sidewalk, feeling a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration. As you boarded the bus, you couldn’t stop thinking about that moment. Your heart was racing, and every time you closed your eyes, you could see Letitia’s face, the surprise and humor in her eyes.

You tried to distract yourself with phone games, but your fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. Before you knew it, you were googling Letitia’s name, falling down a rabbit hole of biographies, interviews, and reviews of her films. Each article and video only added to the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in your head.

Engrossed in reading about her, you completely missed your stop. When you finally looked up and realized how far you’d gone, you cursed under your breath, quickly pressing the button to signal the next stop.

As you walked the extra blocks home, you couldn’t shake the mixture of embarrassment and excitement from your mind. The day had taken a completely unexpected turn, and you knew it was going to be all you could think about until your next lesson with Letitia.

Celebrating Juneteenth with Girlfriend Letitia

She has never celebrated before, but is so excited when you include her in your plans this year

She's always enjoyed social media posts of her favorite American celebrities and friends and wished she could be there too

You take her to the local Juneteenth festival in your city and she goes straight for the food stalls

She hops from line to line trying out various dishes like smoked turkey legs, ribs, and red velvet cake

You guys arrive to the stage early for the live band performance

They open with the black national anthem, which Letitia hasn't heard before, but feels really moved by

The band covers the greatest Motown hits and the two of you laugh, dance, and sing along until your legs and voices tire

You go to support your friends who have vendor tables and live arts performances

The two of you end up buying matching shirts and wearing them for the rest of the day

You have to fight like hell to get her to come home as the festival winds down

She's still dancing and singing when you arrive home

"Wait, there's like two more days right? So, what do we have planned for tomorrow?"

Sorrel Ch. 3 | Letitia Wright x Reader

Summary: An American in London, you have recently graduated university with no job prospects so you take up a gig at a Guyanese bakery and become enthralled in the world of a regular customer.

Genre: Romance, fluff, angst

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2056

Taglist: @lyfeofbilly @prettymrswright

It was not often you found yourself venturing outside apart from work and school. Tasks such as grocery shopping and paying bills were left up to Kerry, with you preferring a more domestic role in your home- anything that did not require you to socialize another minute of your day. So when Kerry begged you to help with errands, your immediate answer was no until you relented under her incessant pestering and promises- but I swear it won’t even take that long! You blocked off the day’s activities by the half hour and planned to be back on the couch before the new Abbott Elementary episode dropped. 

However, you had only made it as far as the checkout at the Caribbean supermarket before Kerry disappeared into a backroom to play catch-up with the owner. You lingered at the entrance with your heavy bags, trying to pass the time as you examined a shelf full of condiments. The vibrant labels of everything seemed to blend together as you lost yourself in the sensory overload of the store. You picked up a jar of cassareep, shaking the contents, when a familiar, musical voice caught your attention.

"Boo!"

You jumped, the jar slipping from your grasp. Letitia’s laughter rang out as she reached out to catch it with effortless reflexes. Her fox-like brown eyes sparkled with mischief. Today, she was wearing a simple gray t-shirt and jean shorts, her casual outfit doing nothing to diminish her striking presence. Her long brown legs and arms glistened from a fresh layer of moisturizer. This close you could notice the light floral fragrance of her perfume and how her shaved head now had the beginnings of a tiny afro. 

"Sorry, I couldn't resist," she chuckled, handing the jar back to you. You noticed how effortlessly chic she looked, even in such a relaxed outfit. The way she moved, with a natural grace, was captivating. She had an aura about her that drew you in, making it hard to focus on anything else. 

You tried to form a coherent sentence, but your words tangled in your throat. "I—uh—you—" was all you managed before she spoke again.

"So, what brings you here?" Letitia asked, her tone playful, her eyes dancing with curiosity.

"Gr-groceries… My roommate takes me here. Sh-she’s Guyanese," you stammered, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. You held up your hoard of heavy bags for emphasis. The supermarket, once bright and overwhelming, seemed to fade into the background as you focused on her.

"Well, between you and me," she whispered, leaning in conspiratorially, "the shop down the road has better deals. But I come here because they have the brand of cassareep I like."

Before you could react, Letitia took a step closer, her breasts grazing yours as she reached past you. You found yourself backed up against the shelf, the cool metal pressing through your shirt. Her face was mere inches from yours, her breath coming blowing softly and warmly against your cheek. Time seemed to slow down, each second stretching into an eternity as your senses became acutely aware of every detail. The soft scent of her floral perfume enveloped you, mingling with the exotic aromas of the store. Her skin reminded you of the smooth red mahogany of a classic grand piano. Her deep brown eyes were almond shaped and angled upwards slightly as if to be closer to heaven. And her full lips held a permanent pout. 

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears. You could feel the heat rising to your face, your skin tingling with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. It was hard to breathe, the proximity making the air thick and heavy. Letitia's eyes were fixed on yours, her gaze intense and playful, holding you captive in the moment.

Her arm brushed lightly against your shoulder as she reached behind you, her movements slow and what must have been deliberate. You could feel the warmth of her body so close to yours, every small shift sending a jolt through you. You had no idea what was happening, your mind a whirlwind of confusion and fascination. It was as if the world around you had faded away, leaving only the two of you in this intimate, suspended moment.

Just as you began to lose yourself completely in the depth of her gaze, Letitia's hand grasped a jar from the shelf behind you. She pulled back slightly, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. She held up the jar, an imported brand of cassareep, and gave you a playful wink. The gesture was simple, but it felt charged with a deeper meaning, as if she was letting you in on a secret.

"And here it is," she said softly, her voice still holding that conspiratorial whisper. She flashed the jar in front of you for emphasis before placing it in her cart. The spell was broken, but the memory of her closeness lingered, leaving you flustered and breathless.

Your face felt like it was on fire, and you could barely string together a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. The air felt electric, and you struggled to steady your racing heart. Letitia's confidence and ease only added to your flustered state, her every move seeming effortlessly graceful.

As she stepped back, giving you some much-needed space, you tried to regain your composure. But the warmth of her presence, the lingering scent of her perfume, and the memory of her touch stayed with you, making it hard to focus on anything else. The supermarket around you came back into view, the bright colors and bustling sounds a stark contrast to the intimate bubble you had just shared.

Letitia's eyes twinkled with amusement as she noticed your obvious fluster. "You okay?" she asked, her tone light and teasing, as if she knew exactly the effect she had on you.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," you managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. Letitia's eyes twinkled with amusement as she noticed your nervousness. 

"Sorry, I must seem a bit too chatty. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” she responded. 

“No! I mean, uh, you didn’t. Sorry I-I’m just kinda… shy… or whatever,” you stuttered. Your cheeks burned, and you could feel your heart still pounding in your chest.

She tilted her head, studying you with genuine curiosity. "You know, I used to be really shy like you and I think I really just needed to meet the right people to come out of my shell. If you’d like to maybe find your voice a bit, you should join the acting class I teach at the performing arts center down the street."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Y-you teach acting?"

"Yep, every Thursday evening. Let me show you," she said, holding her hand out. You followed her gaze to your chest and almost became swept up in assumption until you realized she was looking at your phone peeking out of your front shirt pocket. You fumbled it into her reach and she did a bit of tapping before handing it back to you with a warm and encouraging smile. Her confidence was contagious, and you found yourself slightly more at ease.

You took the phone, your fingers brushing against hers, and felt a rush of electricity. Your browser was open displaying a webpage detailing acting classes and workshops, and you couldn't help but feel a spark of interest despite your nervousness. The descriptions and pictures of the classes were enticing, promising a supportive environment where you could explore and nourish creative skills. 

"Think about it," Letitia said. "It could be fun. And who knows, you might find it helps with the nerves." She gave you a knowing smile before turning to continue her shopping, leaving you standing there, still reeling from the encounter. As she moved down the aisle, you couldn't help but watch her, your mind racing with a mix of awe and admiration. The supermarket seemed to return to its chaotic normalcy, but for you, everything had changed.

Kerry chose that moment to reappear, her conversation with the auntie finally over. "Hey, what did I miss?" she asked, noticing your dazed expression.

You shook your head, trying to collect your thoughts. "Uh, nothing much. Just... ran into someone."

Kerry's eyes narrowed with interest. "Oh? You can tell me all about it on our way to the bank."  You groaned in exhaustion and followed her onto the street with one last sly glance for the direction Letitia had disappeared into. 

At home, you successfully fielded questions from Kerry, hoping to not get wrapped up in her teasing. You feigned exhaustion after a long day of errands and excused yourself to bed right after dinner. Alone in your room, you settled in to appease your obsession which had become a nightly ritual. You would pull up your favorite interview of Letitia to play in the background as you scrolled through her pictures on Google. The soft melody of her voice and the comforting charm of her smile would lull you into a peaceful sleep. 

Today, however, you were jolted as you opened your phone’s browser to see that it was still on the page Letitia had pulled up earlier. The sight made your stomach drop. With a sinking feeling, you hit the back button and your heart pounded even harder. You were taken to a tab with pictures of Letitia—her smiling at various events, on set, candid shots that you had saved to savor her expressions, each one a piece of your secret admiration for her.

Panic set in as you realized what this meant. Amongst that tab were seven others, all with different pictures of Letitia. The thought that Letitia might have seen them made you feel horrified and exposed. You thought back to the moment in the supermarket when she had taken your phone, how she had deftly opened the app and searched for the acting classes. She had done it all herself, and you had been too flustered to notice what was on your screen.

Your mind raced back to the way she had smiled at you when she handed the phone back. It wasn’t just a polite smile—it had been warm, genuine, and perhaps a bit knowing. She had seen it, you were sure of it. But what did that smile mean? Was she creeped out by you now? Did she think you were some sort of stalker? Or could it possibly be... something else?

"No, it can't be that," you thought to yourself, shaking your head vigorously as if to dispel the impossible notion. There was no way someone as amazing as Letitia Wright could feel anything other than discomfort after seeing such an obvious display of your infatuation. The embarrassment and shame washed over you in waves, making your face burn and your heart ache with regret.

Unable to stand the tormenting thoughts, you buried your head into your pillow and let out a muffled scream. The pillow soaked up your frustration, your voice swallowed by the fabric, but it didn’t make the panic go away. Every detail of your encounter with Letitia replayed in your mind, from the way her breasts had brushed against yours to the playful wink she had given you. Each memory felt like a cruel reminder of your vulnerability.

Desperation drove you to consider all the possible interpretations of her smile. Was it pity? Amusement? Or something more complex, something you dared not hope for? You couldn’t be sure, and the uncertainty gnawed at you.

The exhaustion of the day finally caught up with you, and you felt your body slowly give in to the need for rest. But sleep didn’t come easily. You lay there, eyes closed, trying to focus on the soothing cadence of Letitia's voice from the interview playing on your phone. Yet, the questions and the self-doubt kept swirling in your mind, making it impossible to find peace.

Hours seemed to pass in a haze of restless thoughts until finally, sheer fatigue overtook your anxiety, and you drifted into a fitful sleep. The image of Letitia’s smile lingered in your dreams, a haunting reminder of the day's turmoil and the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t as bad as you feared.

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Sorrel | Letitia Wright x Reader

Summary: An American in London, you have recently graduated university with no job prospects so you take up a gig at a Guyanese bakery and become enthralled in the world of a regular customer.

Genre: Romance, fluff, angst

Rating: PG-13

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

The Tutor Ch. 2 | Letitia x Reader

Summary: You are a broke graduate student hustling through college when you unexpectedly land a job tutoring an actress in your native language—a language you've nearly forgotten. Instead of teaching, you find yourself becoming the student in this unexpected journey. As you fall in love for the first time, you begin to uncover profound truths about yourself and the world around you that you never knew existed.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Romance, fluff, slow-burn, comedy

Word Count: 2716

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated! If anyone wants to be added to my taglist, the link is in the pinned post on my page

Taglist: @lyfeofbilly @prettymrswright @onyxstones-world

On Monday afternoon, you found yourself perched on a folding lawn chair behind a makeshift stall on the street. The weather was humid from the threatening awning of rain clouds overhead. You were out with Dominique, a fellow teaching assistant, manning a table covered in wallets in hopes of making a few quick bucks. The wallets were of dubious quality, but that didn’t deter Dominique; nothing ever did.

Dominique, your fearless and fiery friend, was short in stature but towering in personality. She had a confidence that could level skyscrapers, and her voice carried with the authority of someone who knew how to command attention. Today, she was in her element, her cocky charm on full display.

“Aye! Dude with the hips! Yeah, I’m talking to you Beyonce. When was the last time you bought a new wallet?” she shouted at a passerby, her tone an indistinguishable blend of humor and offense. The man, caught off guard, looked down at his curvaceous sides and then back at Dominique, who flashed him a winning smile. He shuddered, shook his head, and moved on, but not without a backward glance. “Broke ass…” she murmured under her breath. 

You, on the other hand, were content to sit back and let your friend do her thing. Reclining in your chair, you immersed yourself in a round of Subway Surfer, the electronic beeps and boops a comforting distraction. Every so often, you’d glance up, just to see Dominique engaging another potential customer with her sharp wit.

“Come on, lady, you spend more on coffee every day than one of these wallets! Treat yourself!” Dominique called out to a woman walking a small, yappy dog. The woman looked scandalized for a moment before curiously stopping to look at the wallets.

Dominique’s relentless energy was both impressive and exhausting to watch. You had always admired how she could turn any situation into an opportunity, how her confidence could make even the most skeptical stranger pause and consider her pitch.

As you swiped and tapped on your phone, lost in the virtual world, Dominique’s voice grew louder, more agitated. You frowned and looked up, the familiar feeling of trouble brewing in the air.

“Why be stingy though? You got on a pair of Gucci shades- lady, you know you got $20!” Dominique yelled, her tone sharp with challenge. You squinted, trying to make out who she was addressing, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw her.

It was Letitia. She stood there, looking slightly amused and a little confused as Dominique tried to pressure her into buying a wallet. Her shaved head gleamed in the muted sunlight, and she wore another chic outfit that looked effortlessly expensive.

Letitia must have spotted you before approaching because her eyes lit up with recognition. She called out your name with a wave and smiled, a genuine warmth in her expression that made your stomach flip. You felt a flush of embarrassment and excitement, the memory of your last encounter rushing back with full force.

Dominique looked between you and Letitia with confusion. "You know this lady?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

Before you could respond, Letitia chuckled and said, “Oh, we know each other quite well. We kissed.”

Dominique's eyes widened in shock, and instead of laughing along, she inhaled dramatically and shook her head while crossing her arms over her chest. “What? You kissed? Seriously?”

You opened your mouth to explain, but Dominique’s expression had turned sour. “Yo, this cannot be forreal! You were just on my line, talm bout- see, I’m just getting in my bag, I ain’t worried about these broads,” She mocked in a voice that was spitefully deep, her face screwed up and her hands waving wildly. 

“I swear it’s not what you think—” you tried to interject, but she cut you off, her voice rising.

“Bet I’ll never let you use my cousin’s Footlocker discount again.”

“Nique, listen to me-”

“And I’m locking you out the Netflix,” she pouted. 

Letitia, watching Dominique’s outburst, began laughing loudly, clearly finding the situation amusing. “Hey, relax, it was just a funny misunderstanding,” she added.

But Dominique wasn’t having it. “I don’t care! I’m mad! We’re supposed to be friends!” She glared at you, her eyes practically shooting daggers. “I wanna know everything from the beg-”

Dominique’s rant was abruptly cut short by the shrill ring of her phone. She glanced at the screen, and her eyes widened in panic. Without another word, she frantically answered the call.

"Hello? Yes, ma’am, I’m actually picking up the test papers right now," Dominique said, her tone urgent. She shot you a quick, apologetic look. "Damn, Doc got me caught up. We’ll talk later, okay? Hold down the fort!"

Before you could respond, Dominique was already hurrying down the street, leaving you alone with the table and Letitia, who watched the scene unfold with an amused smile.

Letitia turned her attention to the setup, her fingers lightly grazing the various merchandise on display. “So, this is your other gig?” she asked, her voice smooth and casual.

You nodded, still reeling from Dominique's sudden departure and Letitia’s presence. “Yeah, y’know, bills gotta get paid somehow.”

Letitia picked up a particularly gaudy coin purse, examining it with a bemused expression. “Interesting line of work. How did you end up selling wallets on the street?”

A part of you wanted to feel offended, but instead her words sent a wave of heat through your body. You shrugged, trying to focus on the conversation and not the fluttering sensation in your core. “Dominique had the idea. She’s really good at selling things, and I just tag along for the ride.”

“She seems... protective of you,” Letitia remarked, her tone light but her gaze sharp.

You chuckled nervously. “Yeah, that’s Dominique for you. She means well.”

Letitia’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in slightly. “Means well? Isn’t it clear she wants more than that though?”

The question caught you off guard, and you felt a blush creeping up your neck. “What? No, Dominique and I are just friends. She’s not... I mean, I don’t think she—”

Letitia laughed softly, a rich, warm sound. “Relax, I’m just teasing. But maybe you should start seeing someone soon. Wouldn't want anyone, especially Dominique, to get any ideas...”

You stared at her, flustered and unsure how to respond. “Dating? I don’t really have time for that right now. Too busy with grad school and, you know, making a living.”

Letitia’s smile was both knowing and kind. “Sometimes, you have to make time for things that matter. And who knows? You might find someone who makes everything a little easier.”

Her words, though spoken lightly, carried a weight that made you pause. Letitia’s smooth and casual demeanor only added to your growing confusion and intrigue. You couldn’t quite tell if she was just being friendly or if there was something more to her words.

As she continued to browse the wallets, you tried to regain your composure. “So, are you in the market for a new wallet?” you asked, attempting to steer the conversation back to safer territory.

Letitia grinned. “Maybe. Got anything that says… ‘girlfriend potential’?”

You laughed, the tension easing slightly. “I’m not sure these wallets say anything other than ‘potentially poor,’ but I’ll see what I can do.”

As you helped Letitia sift through the wallets, the conversation flowed more naturally. Despite your initial flustered state, you found yourself enjoying her company, the playful banter, and the easy way she seemed to navigate the world. The encounter was unexpectedly pleasant, leaving you with a pathetic feeling of neediness to be closer to her than just a tutor.

After a length of banter, Letitia picked out two wallets, one sleek black and another with a bold, colorful design. She handed you a couple of bills, her fingers brushing yours ever so slightly. The brief contact sent a jolt through you, leaving your heart racing.

“These will do nicely,” Letitia said, her voice warm.

“Thanks,” you replied, trying to keep your cool. “Hope they serve you well.”

As Letitia transferred the contents of her old wallet into one of the new ones, an awkward silence settled between you. Neither of you seemed to know how to end the conversation, both hesitating, searching for the right words. You giggled nervously, and Letitia joined in, the sound rich and melodic.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around,” you finally managed to say, your voice a little higher than usual.

Letitia nodded, her eyes twinkling. “Actually, I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

You blinked, taken aback. “Wednesday?”

“Yeah,” she said, stepping closer. “For our next tutoring session. Don’t forget.”

“Oh, right,” you stammered, feeling a mix of relief and nervous anticipation. “Wednesday.”

Before you could say anything else, Letitia closed the distance between you and wrapped her arms around you in a warm, tender embrace. The scent of her perfume enveloped you, a delicate blend of jasmine and sandalwood that made your head swim. Her body fit perfectly against yours, her touch sending a cascade of shivers down your spine. You felt her heartbeat, steady and reassuring, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

As you melted into the hug, Letitia gently pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her gaze soft and filled with something that made your breath catch. She leaned in slowly, her lips brushing your forehead in a kiss so tender, it felt like a whisper against your skin. The contact lingered, time stretching out as the world around you seemed to hold its breath.

When she finally stepped back, Letitia gave you a playful wink with a chuckle. “See you then.”

Without another word, she turned and walked away, her movements graceful and confident. You stood there, rooted to the spot, watching her retreating figure, your mind swirling with a hundred different emotions. Your forehead tingled where her lips had been, a sweet reminder of the unexpected intimacy.

On Wednesday evening, you found yourself standing outside Letitia's brownstone, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk. The elegant facade of the building loomed over you, adding to your already mounting nerves. You took a deep breath and muttered to yourself, trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts in your head.

"Okay, this is fine," you began, speaking in a low voice. "It's just a casual meeting. Nothing to freak out about. Sure, she kissed your forehead and left you speechless, but that's totally normal, right? Right. Happens all the time."

You stopped and rubbed your temples. "Oh, who am I kidding? She’s... so cool. And I’m just a mess selling wallets on the street. What am I even doing here?"

You resumed your pacing, occasionally glancing at the door. "Maybe I should’ve brought flowers. Or chocolates. Or, I don’t know, an escape plan?"

You chuckled nervously, shaking your head. "Get it together. She invited you here. She wants to see you. It's not like she's going to open the door, laugh in your face, and slam it shut."

Taking a deep breath, you finally mustered the courage to approach the door. You raised your fist to knock, heart pounding in your chest, when suddenly, the door swung open.

Letitia stood there, looking as effortlessly chic as ever, a smile spreading across her face. "Hey there," she said warmly. "You coming in, or are you planning to wear a groove into my sidewalk?"

Caught off guard, you jumped back, letting out a nervous laugh that sounded more like a hiccup. "Oh, hey! Didn't see you there. Just, you know, practicing my... knocking technique. Very important stuff."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Practicing your knocking technique?"

"Yeah," you said, feeling your face heat up. "You can never be too prepared for a door, right? Anyway, hi!"

Letitia laughed softly, shaking her head. "Well, your technique is flawless. Come on in."

You stepped inside, the warmth of her home enveloping you, and suddenly, the nerves didn't seem so overwhelming. "Thanks," you said, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. "Nice place you've got here."

"Thanks," Letitia replied, still smiling. "It’s only on loan from my agency, but make yourself at home."

As you followed her inside, you couldn't help but feel both embarrassed and exhilarated. This was going to be an interesting session. 

"Only on loan from your agency?" you asked, trying to keep your tone light. "Sounds like a pretty sweet deal."

Letitia led you through the elegant foyer, past a spacious living room adorned with tasteful artwork and expensive-looking furniture. The walls were lined with antique sconces casting a warm, inviting glow, and the intricate crown molding added a touch of old-world charm. "Yeah, they like to keep us comfortable," she said with a shrug. "Perks of the job, I guess. But enough about that. How about we work in the kitchen today? The study feels a bit stuffy, no?"

You followed her, marveling at the sheer opulence of her home. The floors were polished wood, the kind that creaked in a comforting way with each step. Large, heavy drapes framed tall windows, letting in just enough light to give the rooms a soft, golden hue. Every piece of furniture seemed to have a story, from the velvet-upholstered settees to the grand, ornate mirrors that adorned the walls.

As you entered the kitchen, you were struck by how inviting it felt. Despite the modern appliances and sleek design, there was a cozy, lived-in quality to the space. Letitia motioned for you to sit at a small table near a large window that overlooked a lush garden in the backyard. The table itself was a beautiful antique, with a weathered patina that spoke of years of use and love. You took a seat, the sunlight streaming through the window casting a soft glow on Letitia's features. She looked stunning, her skin radiant and her eyes sparkling as she moved about the kitchen. You found yourself mesmerized by her beauty, momentarily forgetting why you were there.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Letitia asked, pulling you out of your reverie.

"Oh, uh, sure. Anything's fine," you replied, trying to play it cool.

She smiled and poured two glasses of iced water from a crystal pitcher, bringing them over to the table. "Here you go."

"Thanks," you said, taking a sip and savoring the refreshing taste. "This is really nice. I mean, the house, the garden, everything."

Letitia settled into the chair across from you, her gaze softening. "I'm glad you like it. It's nice to have a place where I can relax and unwind. And it's even nicer to share it with someone."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, and you struggled to find the right response. "Yeah, it's... it's great. Thanks for inviting me."

She leaned back in her chair, studying you with an amused expression. "You seem a little nervous. Everything okay?"

You laughed nervously, fidgeting with your glass. "Just, you know, not used to being in such a fancy place. And... well, you're kind of intimidating."

"Intimidating?" Letitia raised an eyebrow. "Me? I think you're giving me too much credit."

"It's true," you insisted, feeling a bit bolder. "You have this... presence. It's hard not to be a little awestruck."

She smiled, a hint of a blush coloring her cheeks. "Well, I'm just a person, like anyone else. And right now, I'm really glad you're here."

Her words made your heart flutter, and you felt a rush of warmth. "I'm glad I'm here too."

For a moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the sunlight bathing the room in a golden glow. You couldn't help but feel that this was the start of something special, even if you weren't quite sure what that something was yet.

"So," Letitia said, breaking the silence, "how's everything going with school and... life in general?"

You smiled, feeling more at ease. "It's been busy, but good. Just trying to keep up with everything, you know?"

She nodded, her eyes full of understanding. "I get it. Life can be overwhelming sometimes. But it's important to take a break and enjoy the little moments."

"Like this?" you asked, gesturing to the sunlit kitchen.

"Exactly," Letitia replied, her smile widening. "Like this."

Sorrel Ch. 4 | Letitia Wright x Reader

Summary: An American in London, you have recently graduated university with no job prospects so you take up a gig at a Guyanese bakery and become enthralled in the world of a regular customer.

Genre: Romance, fluff, angst

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2235

Taglist: @lyfeofbilly @prettymrswright

You spent the next few days in a fog of embarrassment, replaying the supermarket encounter with Letitia over and over in your mind. The idea of going to her acting class seemed impossible now. What if she thought you were some sort of creepy stalker? What if she mentioned it to someone else? The thought made your stomach churn.

Kerry noticed your odd behavior and prodded you for an explanation. "You've been acting weird. What's up?" she asked one evening as you both lounged on the couch.

You shrugged, trying to brush it off. "Just tired, I guess."

She wasn't being fooled. "Nope, not buying it. Something's definitely up."

You sighed, unable to keep it from her any longer. "It's nothing, really."

Kerry crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "I'm not moving until you tell me what's going on."

You took a deep breath, knowing you couldn't keep it from her any longer. "Okay, fine. I got invited to this... thing by... this girl that I like."

Kerry's eyes widened with excitement, and she couldn't suppress a grin. "Really? That's awesome! Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because..." You felt your face flush. "Because it's obvious I have this embarrassing crush on her! I think she only invited me as a formality, and it would be weird if I actually went."

Kerry laughed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh my god, you have a crush! This is priceless! Who is she? Do I know her?"

You fidgeted nervously, avoiding her gaze. "No, you don't know her. And it's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" Kerry's grin widened. "You have a crush, and she invited you to something. This is a huge deal! Come on, give me some details."

You hesitated, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "She's... amazing. But I'm pretty sure she only invited me to be polite."

Kerry rolled her eyes. "You're overthinking this. She invited you because she saw something in you. You should totally go!"

You shook your head, anxiety gnawing at your insides. "No, she'll just be weirded out. She saw that I had a bunch of pictures of her on my phone, Kerry. She probably thinks I'm some kind of stalker."

Kerry's laughter rang out again. "Oh, you poor thing! You really got it bad, don't you?" She softened her tone, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Look, you won't know unless you go. And you know what? I'll come with you. Moral support."

You hesitated, but Kerry's enthusiasm was infectious. "Are you sure? What if it's a disaster?"

"It won't be," Kerry said firmly. "You'll go, and you'll show her that you're serious. And if it gets awkward, I'll be right there with you. Deal?"

You bit your lip, considering her words. Finally, you nodded. "Deal."

Kerry grinned. "Good. We're going, and you're going to be amazing."

You still felt a knot of anxiety in your stomach, but Kerry's unwavering support made it a little easier to breathe. "Thanks, Kerry. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Kerry winked. "Probably hide in your room forever. But that's not happening on my watch. Now, let's get you an outfit together. We need you on your a-game!"

The next evening, you led Kerry to the performing arts center, your steps growing slower and more hesitant with each passing block. The anxiety gnawed at you, every nerve in your body on high alert. The familiar streets of the neighborhood seemed suddenly foreign, each sound amplified, every passerby a potential judge of your insecurities.

As you walked, you kept glancing down at the tight shirt Kerry had insisted you wear, and the short shorts that felt entirely too revealing. You tugged at the hem of the shirt, trying to pull it lower, hoping to cover more skin. "I don't know about this outfit," you muttered, feeling the fabric cling to you uncomfortably. "I feel so exposed. Maybe I should go home and change."

Kerry rolled her eyes, not slowing her pace. "You look amazing. Trust me, it's just your nerves talking."

Your heart pounded in your chest, the closer you got to the performing arts center, the more your anxiety grew. You felt every bead of sweat forming on your brow, the fabric of your clothes sticking to your skin, making you want to crawl out of your own body. "Seriously, Kerry, I think I should change. These shorts are way too short. What if she thinks I'm trying too hard?"

Kerry glanced at you, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. "You? Trying too hard? Please. If anything, you’re trying too hard to hide." She swatted your hand away as you tried to cover your legs, making you stumble slightly. "Stop fidgeting. You’re going to be fine."

You sighed, feeling the heat rise to your face. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one who looks like they’re auditioning for a part in a teenage rom-com."

Kerry laughed, her grip on your hand tightening as she kept you moving forward. "If anyone is qualified to star in a rom-com, it’s you. With the amount of pining you do, you’re practically the lead character already."

You managed a weak laugh, but the knot in your stomach only tightened. By the time you reached the performing arts center, your legs felt like jelly. Standing outside the entrance, you tried once more to hide your legs with your hands, but Kerry swatted them away again.

"Would you stop that? You look great. Besides, this girl invited you because she likes you, right? She’s not going to care about your outfit."

"But what if she thinks I'm weird for actually showing up?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Kerry gave you a reassuring smile, her eyes filled with determination. "You’re doing this because you want to, and because you deserve to be here. Now come on," she said, tugging you forward with more force than you expected.

Before you could protest any further, Kerry dragged you through the doors of the performing arts center. The cool air of the lobby hit your face, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. Kerry's grip on your hand was unwavering. Her confidence was contagious, and as you took your first steps towards your fate, you felt a small spark of hope igniting within you.

Inside the auditorium, you were immediately struck by how bright and warm it was. The lights overhead cast a welcoming glow, and the soft hum of air conditioning created a comfortable, inviting atmosphere. A row of burgundy seats fanned out in front of a modest cherry wood stage, where Letitia stood, chatting with a colleague.

She looked effortlessly sexy under the stage lighting in a pair of form-fitting gray sweats and sneakers, her casual attire accentuating her lithe, athletic build. Her movements were fluid and graceful, her presence magnetic even in the simplicity of her outfit. She wore a snug tank top under a loose, cropped hoodie, and you couldn't help but notice how it emphasized her toned arms and the smooth curve of her neck. Her hair was now a cute, tiny afro, and the combination of her natural beauty and relaxed style made her even more breathtaking.

Your heart raced uncontrollably at the sight of her, the ambient chatter and Kerry's encouraging whispers fading into white noise. It was as if time had slowed down, every detail of Letitia etched into your mind—the way the swell of her backside was so obvious through her pants, the softness of her hair, and the easy confidence with which she moved.

Glancing around, you noticed that the dozen other attendees seemed equally relaxed and casual in their attire. The anxiety spiked as you became acutely aware of your own appearance—your oiled, shiny legs, the revealing clothes Kerry had picked out for you, your eyeliner, and your freshly done hair. You felt out of place, as if a spotlight had been cast on you alone, highlighting your insecurities.

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to shrink into yourself. The feeling of vulnerability only intensified as you realized how out of place you looked and felt. Regret washed over you, making your cheeks burn with embarrassment. How could you have ever imagined that you had a chance? The idea seemed laughable now. Letitia's invitation, which had once felt like a glimmer of hope, now seemed like a formality, a polite gesture misinterpreted by your eager heart.

Your mind raced with self-doubt, and you could feel your pulse pounding in your ears. You were stupid for even imagining that Letitia might be interested in you. She probably only invited you to be nice, and here you were, standing out like a sore thumb in your trampy outfit. The regret gnawed at you, making you wish you could disappear into the plush seats and never be seen again.

Feeling utterly out of place and overwhelmed, you turned and grabbed Kerry’s arms, looking her in the eyes with a pleading desperation. “Kerry, please, let’s just leave,” you whispered urgently. “I can’t do this. I look ridiculous, and I feel so stupid. Let’s go, please.”

Kerry’s expression softened, but before she could respond, you heard your name called from across the room. You froze, turning slowly to see Letitia waving from the front of the stage, her smile warm and inviting. The sight of her instantly rooted you to the spot, your heart pounding even harder.

Letitia hopped down from the stage with ease and began making her way down the aisle toward you. The attendees parted like the Red Sea, their curious gazes following her as she walked over. Each step she took seemed to echo in the room, amplifying your anxiety and excitement. As she reached you, she gave you a dramatic once-over, her eyes lingering on your figure.

“I thought it was you, but I wasn’t sure,” Letitia said, her voice filled with genuine surprise and delight. Her gaze was intense, as if she couldn’t stop looking at you. “I’m so glad you made it.”

Before you could respond, she pulled you into a warm hug. The world seemed to fade away as you felt her arms around you, the softness of her touch and the faint floral scent of her perfume enveloping you. You were overwhelmed, entranced by the sensation of being so close to her. The hug was brief but left you feeling both lightheaded and grounded at the same time.

Letitia pulled back slightly, her eyes still locked on yours. “Let me take a look at you,” she said with a playful glint in her eye. She lifted her hand and made a twirling motion, indicating for you to spin around. Your nerves spiked, but you complied, doing a slow, nervous twirl under her watchful gaze. The attendees’ eyes were on you, adding to the whirlwind of emotions.

As you finished the twirl, Letitia’s smile widened. “Well, don’t you look absolutely stunning?” she said, her tone teasing yet sincere. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Her words made your heart flutter, but the intensity of the moment also made you feel incredibly shy and nervous. Your cheeks flushed, and you found it hard to meet her gaze. You managed a small, hesitant smile, feeling both thrilled and intimidated by her attention. The anxiety and self-doubt didn’t entirely disappear, but under Letitia’s appreciative gaze, you felt a tiny spark of confidence mixed with your overwhelming shyness.

Just as you were getting lost in the moment, Kerry cleared her throat loudly, a reminder that she was still standing beside you. Letitia suddenly turned her attention to her, her expression shifting to one of delight. “Oh! I didn’t even see you there!” she exclaimed, her laughter warm and genuine.

“That’s fine!” Kerry replied, her excitement evident. “Cool set up you’ve got here!”

Letitia smiled, her eyes sparkling. “Thanks! I feel like I’ve met you before,” she said, tilting her head slightly in curiosity.

Kerry chuckled, a playful glint in her eye. “Well, all of the neighborhood is my family, so it’s possible! You know how it is.”

They shared a laugh, and you felt a sense of ease wash over you, grateful for Kerry’s lightheartedness. Letitia then clapped her hands together, her excitement palpable. “Well, I reckon I should get started with class now that everybody’s here,” she announced, looking directly at you to shoot a wink that felt both personal and intentional.

With that, she turned on her heel and made her way back to the stage, her presence commanding yet effortlessly casual. You felt yourself swooning, a rush going straight to your head at the memory of a few seconds ago. The world around you faded into a blissful haze, your heart still fluttering from the encounter.

In the corner of your eye, you caught Kerry’s knowing glance, accompanied by a head shake in your direction. You instinctively understood it was a warning of a stern probing conversation waiting for you later, but the thought barely registered. All you could think about was the way Letitia had looked at you, the warmth of her hug, and how her words lingered in the air like a sweet melody. For now, you were content to bask in the moment, letting the excitement and hope of what was to come overshadow everything else.

Previous chapter

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.”

Fictober Masterlist

A/N: Here I will be keeping track of my daily fictober updates. Feedback is always appreciated <3

"that was good work"

"it's been a long time"

"I know you better"

"no, we're not doing that"

"it's a new day, let's go"

"I'm not giving up"

"follow me if you want to live"

"are we happy?"

"don't listen to me, listen to them"

"is this normal?"

"well, that worked out great"

"did you hear that?"

"that's not the point"

"did you stick to the plan?"

"let's try this"

"no, I'm not okay"

"strangest thing I ever heard"

"you always have a plan"

"this is getting ridiculous"

"I saw your eyes light up"

"we've done worse"

"why are we doing this again?"

"we can fix this, I know we can"

"you didn't do anything wrong"

"it consumes me"

"you were the first"

"let me remind you"

"just say what you want"

"how did this happen?"

"I won't let you down"

"it's always been you"

9. “don’t listen to me, listen to them” | Letitia Wright x Reader

Summary: Who will you believe?

Rating: Mature (language)

Genre: Romance, angst

Word Count: 311

A/N: I initially posted this without formatting a few days ago. I've now come back to make edits including adding the taglist. If you already read this, sorry. ✌🏾

Taglist: @lyfeofbilly @prettymrswright @onyxstones-world

“Why were you even alone together?” you demanded, your heart pounding in your chest. You stood in the kitchen, arms crossed tightly, watching Letitia pace back and forth.

She paused, turning to face you, her brow furrowed. “I told you, it wasn’t like that. We were just talking.”

“Talking? My friends saw you leaving together! They said you were all over that hoe,” you shot back, anger bubbling up inside you. “What you expect me to think?”

“Really? You’re going to believe them over me?” Letitia replied, disbelief lacing her tone.

“And why shouldn’t I? It looks bad! I don’t even know who this bitch is,” you said, frustration creeping into your voice.

“Because it’s not what you think!” she said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You’re jumping to conclusions!”

“Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions because you keep fucking lying!” You took a step closer, feeling the tension amplify. “I just know you hiding shit from me.”

Letitia closed her eyes for a moment, visibly trying to rein in her temper. “Look, I’m not cheating on you! I care about you!”

“Then why do I feel like I’m losing you?” you snapped, your voice trembling. “You’re out here making me feel like I’m not enough.”

She took a deep breath, frustration spilling over. “Whatever, fuck it. Don’t listen to me, listen to them. If you think I’m that type of person, maybe you should trust what you believe instead of what I’m telling you.”

You felt the sting of her words hit hard. “So, that’s it? You’d rather I feel like this than you be honest with me?”

“Do you even trust me?” she shot back, her eyes locking onto yours with a fire that matched your own. The silence hung between you, and in that moment, it felt like everything you’d built together was on the verge of crumbling.

10. “is this normal?” | Letitia Wright x Reader

Summary: She’s never been good at braiding.

Rating: PG

Genre: Romance, fluff

Word count: 259

A/N: Came back to format. Ignore the tag if you've already read this. ❤️

Taglist: @lyfeofbilly @prettymrswright @onyxstones-world

You leaned in the doorway, watching your wife carefully part Josephine’s hair. The toddler sat on the floor, wiggling around but laughing, completely entertained by the way Letitia’s fingers moved through her curls. Letitia had been practicing her braiding skills over the last couple of years, but she still acted like she was figuring it out as she went.

“Uh… is this normal?” Letitia asked, holding up a rubber band, looking way too serious for the moment. “I’m not messing up her hair, right?”

You laughed and walked over, kneeling beside them. “Babe, it looks great. You’re doing fine.”

It felt like just yesterday you got that call in the middle of the night. The foster agency said there was a newborn that needed a home now, and within hours, Josephine was in your arms. It was chaotic but perfect. And now, two years later, you were finally making it official in court.

Letitia was finishing the last twist when Josephine turned her head, throwing her off a little. Letitia sighed dramatically, sitting back. “She’s not making this easy, huh?”

You grinned, brushing a loose curl from Josephine’s face. “She’s two, that’s kind of her job.”

Letitia gave you a lopsided smile. “Well, here’s hoping the judge isn’t too focused on her hair.”

You squeezed her shoulder, feeling the warmth of the moment settle in. “The judge will be too busy falling in love with her, like the rest of us.”

Letitia’s grin softened, and she leaned in, kissing your cheek. “We’re doing it, babe. We’re really doing it.”

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