Harlem Nights
pairing: rosalie otterbourne x black!fem!reader
background: as a singer and musician growing up in the heart of New York, you constantly had people, places, and things to be inspired by. every chance you could, you were finding places inside those rooms you always desired to be in. there was nothing more you wanted to do but perform. most of your family wouldn’t be so ecstatic about your ‘unrealistic’ and ‘unstable’ ambitions. But you knew deep down that you had what it takes. You’d soon travel down to Harlem’s hottest club of the early 20th century, ‘The Cotton Club’, and an interaction with one of your inspirations would change the trajectory of your life, forever.
content: fluff, flirting, playful banter, intimacy. a lot of sweetness + sass. warmth. little explicit language.
word count: 6k
authors note: 2nd fic down. this one was very fun to create, making it fitting to the time. I have such a sweet spot for Rosalie, I had to dedicate this one to her and all her glory. as a singer and musician myself from NY, this was very special for me. I hope y’all smiling and blushing because I was smiling and blushing writing it! enjoy.
p.s. chile i kinda wanna make a part two, this was teaaaa.
taglist: @inmyheadimobsessed @zayswriting @vixentheplanet @pinkwright @saintwrld @verachii @ventingfanfics @abenomeiiii @vampzxi @shuriszn @dejaonline @mysticalmarss @shurislover @msplayas @naomis-daydream @sweetalittleselfish-honey
pinned to my page is my new taglist form. if you wanna be tagged in specifics, go fill that joint out! thank you. (i also have an opt out option for those who no longer want to be tagged if they already are). <3
A warm, summer rain pitter-pattered across the glass of your bedroom window as you began cleaning up your space. It was a comfy afternoon, almost evening, the sun peaking through the clouds and beaming down on the town, preparing for its set. It was gorgeous outside. And despite it's rather saturating nature, many people were outside on their front porches.
There were so many things to do in Harlem. So many places to see. And yet you felt you could die of boredom. If you weren't busy cleaning or babysitting the neighbors kids, you were receiving a 15-page verbal essay from your mother about how dangerous the city was and how 'there ain't nothing in Harlem but drugs, scams, and prostituting!'.
I mean sure it could be dangerous at times. But where in the world isn't? You just knew that as much as there were frights, there were sights. Opportunity was left and right in this town. All your favorite artists and musicians grew up right here, and you wanted to join that list.
“Alright, Y/N/N,” your mom began, putting on her jacket, grabbing her things, and approaching your bedroom door. I’m off to work. Remember to drop the evening papers by Miss Jeanine after you finish cleaning. And no clubs!”
You sighed with immediate annoyance. “But Ma—“
“No butts!” She warned sternly. “Unless it’s yours in that bed there, immediately after. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” You respectfully reply, feeling defeated.
You were 21, soon to be 22, but Mother didn’t believe in ‘legal adult decision making’. As long as you were her child and under her roof, you complied by her rules. You understood her always being protective over you; You even appreciated it. But at this moment and time of your life, it felt more like a hinderance than anything else.
“Alright now. I’ll see you later. I love you,” she says on her way out.
“Love you too Ma,” you reply faintly, and with that, the door shuts.
You fall back down on your bed behind you, with a big exhale, staring up at your popcorn ceiling. It was such a lovely day. You should be somewhere dancing, or hanging with your best friend Josephine. Even watching the neighbors kids wouldn’t be so bad right now. At least you’d be out in the backyard.
Tonight was also one of hottest summer nights to be at the Cotton. Billie Holiday, Ma Rainey, and Salome Otterbourne were all performing. It was certain to be a full house, for sure. The three black female jazz pioneers were on tour, and this would be the only time in a while that anybody would be able to see them all perform in one night. Dozens of people even travel from out of state on nights like these. That also meant that there’d be a bunch of travel scouts and agents, waiting on more talent to grab and take under their wing. You were nauseated at the thought of even missing it for a moment.
You got up to finish your cleaning, and halfway through, you heard the door open and shut, followed by a familiar voice that you knew and loved so much.
“Why the long face, sugar?” It asked, making sure you’d turn around to see their smile.
“Grandpa!” You ran to him with open arms, beaming with joy.
Your grandfather was your best friend. Since you were a little girl, he took you under his wing. Your dad left to pursue his music dreams when you were younger, so your grandfather was also the Dad you never had. He always spoke life into you, and made sure that no matter what, you knew that you were capable of any and everything. He also instilled you with the unwavering confidence to back that. Grandpa’s think-pieces were like gold. He was very wise, and had been through it all. He’d always say:
'Don’t let anybody take you for a fool! Not even me!' And laughed. But he was serious.
"What's going on? Lorraine got you in this house cleaning all day again?" He says in your defense, as he often does.
You let out an exhausting puff of a sigh before plopping back down on your bed.
"Yea Pop. As usual." You shifted your body towards him and stared at the ground in deep thought, pausing before continuing. "I mean, life has got to be a little more exciting than this, don't it?"
He laughed a low, hearty chuckle. "There's always more excitement, Y/N/N. You just gotta find it. Don't wait for opportunity, create it!"
He says affirmably, allowing you to comfortably reveal what you've been thinking about all week.
"I really wanna go to the Cotton tonight, Grandpa. Salome Otterbourne is performing tonight! And a bunch of other singers and talents and--well--I'm gonna be here, missing it." You look down and fidget your thumbs around each other.
"Well why don't you go?" He asks.
"You know Mama don't want me around no clubs, Pop. Besides, I told her I would take the evening papers down to Miss Jeanine." You reply in slight aggravation.
"Ohhh," He scoffs and waves his hand down in dismissal. "Don't let that child stop you. I'll take the papers down to Jeanine."
Your eyes lit up in pleasant surprise and excitement.
"Oh you will?!"
"Don't worry about it." He says, a confident smirk creeping onto his face. "Go on and enjoy yourself. I don't know where Lorraine gets all that strictness from anyway. Me and Betty ain't raise that child like that. Besides, she's seen and DONE worse."
You both share a big laugh.
"Thanks Grandpa. You're the best!" You jump up and wrap your arms around the big guy, holding the embrace for a while.
"Anything for my favorite granddaughter." He says jokingly.
"I'm your only granddaughter, Grandpa." You reply giggling.
"I know. Now gone and figure out what you're going to wear. I hear that Mrs. Otterbourne is looking for another back up vocalist for her band." He tells you as if he just revealed the world's biggest secret.
You, performing with Salome Otterbourne and her band. Your stomach turned and the mere thought of it.
You kissed your Grandpa on the cheek before rushing to the bathroom to get ready for your highly anticipated night. Your mind rushed with all the possibilities of the night's events. You'd be in the same room with people and experiencing things you've once only dreamed of. Intimidating it was, but your desire to even just be in that energy was bigger.
..
After lotioning up and powdering down, you slipped on a cool lavender silk midi dress, with spaghetti straps and a flowy, skirt-like bottom. You leaned into the mirror of your vanity, shaping up your thin brows, rolling on your winged liner, and coating your lips with a nude pink gloss, a shade brighter than your natural lip color. You used your same liner to add your infamous faux face moles; one above your lip, one at the tip of your nose, and one at the top corner of your cheek bone. You placed two diamond stud earrings into your ears, decorated your left wrist with a rose gold watch, and clamped your custom microphone necklace around your neck, gifted by your Grandfather. Lastly, pulling your look together, you peel off your bonnet and hair net, coat your fingers with oil, and take out each of your curls, wrapped around perm rods. You fluffed and shaped your hair into its short, curly and tapered state, much like Sheila Guyse. You stood and wrapped your mesh shawl around your shoulders. You walked over to your tall, door mirror and scanned your body, turning each angle, before spritzing your figure with Blue Grass, by Elizabeth Taylor. You always put effort into your look, but tonight was definitely a little extra. You needed to look and feel the part. Like you belonged there, just with everyone else.
You grabbed your white clutch hand purse, matching your white pumps before walking out to the living room.
"So," you say to your Grandfather, doing a quick and excited 360. "How do I look?"
"Oh, Y/N," Grandpa says swiping across and covering his mouth to conceal his emotional expression. "You look beautiful. Just like your grandmother."
Grandma has passed when you were 7. You had faint memories of her. But one thing you did remember, was how madly in love your Grandfather was. You always said you'd want to be loved just like that when you were older. All the family would constantly remind you of how much you looked like her, and even carried a lot of her personality traits.
"Thanks, Pop." You reach down to hug him and wipe his tear before stepping back and giving him an 'It's okay' smile. "Alright, I'm heading out!"
"Alright now, have fun and be safe! Be back by 11, and please, don't give your mother anymore reasons to kill me." He says, almost pleading.
"You got it, Pop." You chuckled and walked out the door, closing it tightly behind you. You looked out at the busy block and took a deep sigh before walking down your porch steps and strutting down the street, on your way to the Cotton.
..
When you arrived, the scene was just like you imagined, only even bigger. Bright lights cascaded from all around the venue, and herds of people were beginning to gather. Cars were beeping and honking, forcing to navigate through traffic with all these people taking up the area, many cars stopping just to see what was going on. Above your head were the list of household names making an appearance tonight. Men and women all throughout the area were dressed up in their absolute best. Valet was working overtime & security was tight. It felt like something out of a movie.
You staggered in front the building, and before you knew it, it was your time to walk in. It was no turning back now.
There was a warm, dim but radiant tone to the room. You seen pimps, hustlers, singers, showgirls, every type of personality you could imagine.
Sounds of bass, saxophones, and pianos filled up the club with a soothing but strong undertone. You walked in, looking around in awe at the set up. The seats were almost filled. You were certain you had to sit in the back, but you didn’t mind. Being in the room was enough. Just as you turned to go back, you spotted your best friend Josephine, sitting in front with an older gentlemen.
“Y/N!,” She called out to you, waving you over and patting the seat next to her.
“Girl!” Overwhelm with excitement, you almost run to where she was and accepted her seat offer. “What are you doing here!”
“I didn’t tell you?” She questions. “My Uncle Johnny is playing bass for Mrs. Holiday. I tried calling to invite you, but your mom said you were busy.”
Typical mother. You really wish she’d stop answering for you. You rolled your eyes, but decided not to build on it.
“Oh, well good for him!” You say with sincerely, with a bright smile.
The two of you briefly caught up before the lights dimmed and the announcer came out to direct what would be one of the most riveting moments of your life.
..
A few acts had already performed, and you were completely enamored. Jazz and blues were your absolute favorite genre, but to hear it live and in person in all its emotion and vulnerability was euphoric. It was life changing. Entertained you were, but all in all, you felt a strong confirmation. You were certain that this was the path you wanted to take. Every strum of string, every note belted, sent chills down your spine. Singing and performing, especially with a live band felt so natural. It felt warm and welcoming— like a warm fudge brownie with cold ice cream on top. The contrast was clear, but together it went so well.
“And now ladies and gentlemen,” The announcer began. “I present to you, singer, musician, and hit phenomenon, Salome Otterbourne!”
He disappeared into the curtains, his presenting arm being the last thing to disappear as Salome approached the stage from the other end. The crowd erupted; cheers, claps, whistles. You turned to grab Josephine's wrists, that were wrested in her lap, the two of you looking at each other and exchanging an excited squeal.
She was stunning. She stood tall above the silver microphone on its stand, wearing a powdered pink blouse and skirt set, with a hat and a flowered wrist garnish to match. She had on white silk gloves, covering the hands that held the stand, one up high and one down low, close to her lips and she began to sing her rendition of Bessie Smith's Tain't Nobody's Bizness If I Do.
There ain't nothing I can do, or nothing I can say
That folks don't criticize me
But I'm goin' to do just as I want to anyway
And don't care if they all despise me
If i should take a notion
To jump into the ocean
'Tain't nobody's business if I do, do, do, do
If I go to church on Sunday
Sing the shimmy down on Monday
Ain't nobody's business if I do, if I do
She sang every word as if she wrote it herself. It was fitting, seeing that Salome was a confident, self-assured woman. You looked around to scan her band. There were two guys on strings. Another on the sax. One on trombone. And to the left of Salome, the pianist. A woman.
She was the only other woman on stage besides the main singer, and she was playing for her. It was rare to see female musicians. And not only was she playing piano, but she was singing backup as well.
She was gorgeous. She had pretty, cinnamon brown skin, narrow, sparkly eyes, and the prettiest smile you ever saw. She was on the taller side and had a slim but sturdy frame. Her hair was in a pin-curled bob, parted to the side, accentuating her sharp jaw structure.
"Who is that?" You semi-whispered to your friend, intrigued.
"That's Rosalie Otterbourne." She leaned in and whispered back, eyes still glued to the stage. "Salome's niece, if I'm not mistaken."
"Oh." You reply back. The only thing you could say really. She was breath-taking, and seemingly just as talented as her aunt. As the song continues, she briefly averts her attention the crowd and her eyes are met with yours. Stopping and holding her gaze for a second, fingers still tap dancing with the instruments keys, she slightly tilts her head and flashes you a smile. You felt your heart begin to take on an unfamiliar arrangement of beats. Taken aback, you sheepishly smiled back, shakily lifting up your hand to give a small wave. She acknowledges it before returning her attention to her piano and back at Mrs Salome as they join in on the next verse.
If my friend ain't got no money
And I say, "Take all mine, honey"
'Tain't nobody's business if I do, do , do do
If I give him my last nickel
And it lives me in a pickle
'Tain't nobody's business if I do, If I do
“Holy shit, Y/N/N,” Josephine tugs at your side. “I think she just smiled at you.”
Okay so she saw that too. Surely it wasn’t for me directly. She was being courteous to her audience.
As the song came to an end, the crowd erupted once again.
“How y’all doing tonight New York? Y’all good?” She asks scanning out to the crowd. When answered by more cheers and whistles, she continued. “Alright, that’s what Salome Otterbourne like ta hear!”
“Tonight is a very special night for me. I’m back home and I have to say you all make me feel so welcomed.” She says with a sassy smile. She proceeds to introduces all the members of her band, leaving her for the end.
“And last but certainly not least, on the piano and back ground vocals, my lovely niece, manager, brain and backbone, Miss Rosalie Otterbourne!” She stands tall and blows a few two-handed kisses out across the room and seals her welcome acceptance with a big warm smile. For whatever reason, in the moment, it felt as if time stood still.
Time progressed as Salome and her band finished out their set. You were sad to see it end so soon. It was such a beautiful arrangement of music. People began to scatter; some leaving, some going to the bar, some going to dance. Some even went to ask for autographs and things of that nature. After awhile the chaos began to subside, and there Salome and her team was, alone, packing their things. You wondered if it was your time to approach. Even if she didn’t get to hear you sing, at least you could express to her how much her music quite literally saved you. As all these different thoughts browsed through your brain, your best friend, Josephine, took a page out of its catalog, as she often did, turning to say,
“Look there go Salome and them, finally by themselves. You should go say something!" She exclaimed, mid-chew of her olive that previously rested in the middle of her martini glass.
You began to get sheepish. You had thought the same, but you now you were unsure. "Say what, Jose?"
She turned to face you completely. "I don't know, but make your existence known. Tell her you sing or something!"
"Yeah," you scoffed. "And embarrass myself?"
"Now, don't start that mess," She began, ready to get you together, as she often did. Not to mention she was the only one who could besides your grandpa. "You and I both know you're just as talented as anybody on that stage. And we always both know that you aren't shy."
She was right. Being nervous about meeting an idol was regular, but you had prepared yourself for this moment over a million times. But you weren't sure why this specific time had you tucking your tail.
"Besides," she continued. "Maybe you could introduce yourself to that pretty gal, Rosalie." She flashed you a smirk.
Your eyes grew so wide they almost popped out of their sockets. Josephine could read you like a book. You never discussed or confessed aloud of your feelings toward other women. Not because you were ashamed, but you felt much like the song; ain't nobody business if I do.
You choked out a breathy, nervous chuckle before you could began to speak. "Wha--"
"Oh, save it. Now go!" She gave you a small but hefty push towards the direction of the stage. You stumbled forward, looking back to grill your best friend before straightening out your dress, dusting yourself off, and taking a deep breath. With that, you took all the confidence you did in that moment and used to it fuel your feet's motion toward the front of the stage.
You'd been up there for all of maybe ten seconds before you were spotted. Her loud and heavy laugh drifting from off the end of her last sentence to her bandmate, she turned around from her kneeled position and gave you a small smile.
"Hey Sugar. Can I help you?"
"Oh n-no Miss Otterbourne I jus--" she shook her head and cut you off mid-sentence.
"Please, child, Salome is just fine."
You half-smiled at her correction. "Well, Salome. You were phenomenal tonight. Your voice and your arrangements are just what jazz has been missing." You say to her sincerely, hand in hand.
"Aren't you sweet," She chuckles at your sincerity. "Well thank you, Sugar. I've worked hard for my sound. You know what they say, you want something done right --"
"Do it yourself." You both say simultaneously and you laugh.
"I'm with you on that one." You were pleasantly surprised how down to earth she was.
"This is exactly why I'm in charge of keeping things together. Auntie where'd Ernie put that cas--" Rosalie came out from behind the stage, stopping mid-sentence once she'd seen you. "Who's this?" She points, asking what of your presence as if you weren't standing right there.
You mentally laugh at her rudeness, knowing she didn't purposely mean to do it. "I'm Y/N."
"She came to tell us how much she liked the show." Salome helped you finish your introduction.
"Is that right," She asks rhetorically, raising her eyebrows, intrigued. "What part striked you the most?"
You felt a wave of vibrations flow through your abdomen, immediately thinking of the glance the two of you shared in the midst of the performance.
"W-well, I really enjoyed your rendition of T'aint nobody's business. I could relate on personal levels, but I felt that you could too. Especially that bridge. Salome, your vibrato is unreal. And with your tone, Rosalie, it blended perfectly." The singer and her accomplice looked at you with impressed eyes.
"Well, well. That's some very specific terminology, Miss Y/N. Are we speaking to a fellow musician?" Rosalie asks, eager to hear your response.
"Yes. A singer." You chose the confident route. You wanted to continue their interest.
"Really?" Salome says matter-of-factly. "Well let us hear something, sugar!"
You were having a hard time grasping that this was reality. You lived in the R.E.M part of your brain, playing out the different scenarios that would lead you to an interaction like this, but you never thought it'd be so soon.
"You sure?" You ask honestly. "I know you're a busy woman."
"Nonsense. Salome leave when Salome gets good and ready." She reassures you, speaking about herself in the third person once again.
"And if your voice is as pretty as you are, then we're in for a treat." Rosalie says, tossing a wink in your direction.
You felt a lump in your throat begin to form and hurriedly swallowed to force it to subside. You felt your cheeks began to heat up like a stove. Receiving a compliment was one thing, but receiving one from a woman of Rosalie's stature, successful, pretty, and poised, was another. You tried your hardest not to let it phase you, but you couldn't help but to let a flattered smile creep onto your face.
You briefly turned around to find your best friend across the room, smiling and giving you two thumbs up.
The band's bass player came over to take your hand and help you up the stage steps, directing you to where the mic was, still plugged in and hot.
Rosalie walked over to her piano and removed the cover she had just recently placed.
"Any preferences?" Rosalie asked.
"The Very Thought of You." You answered confidently, knowing how well the song complimented your voice. "Do you know it?"
"Billie Holiday." She says with a smile, proving her knowledge. "Like the back of my hand."
"Let's do it." You say, ready to take advantage of your moment.
Rosalie began fingering through the keys of her piano, playing up the intro of the song. As the melody began to fill up the venue, the people who remained in the building all focused their attention to the stage. You closed your eyes, let in a huge breath of air, and began to sing.
The very thought of you
And I forget to do
Those little ordinary things
That everyone ought to do
I'm living in a kind of daydream
I'm happy as a queen
And foolish though it may seem
To me that's everything
In this moment, it was you and the melodies that filled your ears alone. You sang just as you would if you were home in your room. Your voice was smooth and velvety. It could serenade you to sleep, or it could fill you with emotion. It was soft, two octaves away from breathy. It was easy to be attracted to your voice alone.
The mere idea of you
The longing here for you
You never know how slow the moments go
Till I'm near to you
I see your face in every flower
Your eyes in stars above
It's just the thought of you
The very thought of you, my love
You glanced in Rosalie's direction, secretly searching for a reaction, and was met by a dazed stare and watery eyes. Even outside of her usual, self-assured nature, she was so beautiful. You wondered what thoughts were flying through her pretty head.
You walked over to the piano and sat at the edge, close to Rosalie, and finished out the song beautifully, never breaking eye contact with her.
I see your face in every flower
Your eyes in stars above
It’s just the thought of you
The very thought of you, my love
Rosalie scanned your face with adored eyes as she played out the outro. You held your gaze, adlib-ing out the rest of the song and began to get lost in the pool of her pretty, chocolate brown eyes. The eruption of the crowd before you is the only thing that broke you from the hypnosis she placed you in.
You stood up again in front the crowd, placed your hands on your heart and gave a bow. You were so proud of yourself and simultaneously stunned. They loved you. The crowds reaction just confirmed all those nights you journaled about feeling called to be in the limelight. In the distance you could see Josephine, practically jumping up and down, mouthing “That’s my girl!”
It was a long, loud applause and standing ovation. At this point, people were beginning to get curious about who you were and where you even came from. With that, the cat-calling also began.
“Hold on, where you from, baby?!“ One man shouted.
“Can I take you home?” Another one followed.
You were too starstruck by your own self to be annoyed by men and their ignorance. In fact, it humored you in this moment. Once the crowd begin to subside, Salome ran up to you.
“Well I’ll be damned!” She says, clasping her hands together. “Sista you can blow!”
Nods and sounds of approval were given by the rest of the crew.
“Says you!” You say brightly. “Thank you, Salome. And thank you for allowing me to sing on your stage.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” She says, leaving you with slight confusion. “What does the rest of your weekend look like?”
Cleaning. Possibly babysitting. Absolutely nothing exciting.
“Nothing much, really.”
“Well, I have a couple more stops to make and perform at before we get back on the road. I want you to come perform with me.” She says sincerely.
You were there with a stunned look on your face. You were at a lost of words, and when you finally find them, they come out more blunt than you expected, “Quit playin’.”
The older woman laughed. “Serious as a heart attack, Sugar. Leave your home number with Rosalie, and stay by the phone. We have business to discuss.” She walked off to other side of the stage. You had to conceal your urge to scream your head off.
“Looks like you got yourself a job,” Rosalie began to walk up to you.
“Thanks to you. Where’d you learn to play like that?” you ask genuinely interested.
“Where’d you learn to sing like that? I thought you was just bull-jiving.” You both laugh.
“I’ve been singing since I was a little girl. My mother always put me in the church choir, and I enjoyed it, so I held onto it.”
“Well you definitely got soul.” She exclaimed.
“Thank you.” You say, blushing at her intense focus on you as she spoke.
“So tell me,” She moves closer to you. “Did you mean what you said?”
You tilted your head slightly at her comment. “What did I say?”
“I see your face in every flower, just the mere thought of you, my love” She speaks the lyrics of the song you just sang.
You weren’t expecting that at all, your body slightly trembling underneath the words her forwardness.
“It’s just a song, Miss Rosalie.” You professed, keeping as much ground as you could. “I am a performer, and I performed.”
“Ahh,” She says nodding sarcastically. “A performance, was it? A stunning one, might I add.”
You playfully rolled your eyes at her sarcasm and her witt. The girl was indeed charming. And she wasn’t buying that you didn’t feel the tension that was brewing between the two of you.
“Rosie,” Salome called out. “We going on out to the car, when you ready, we can be on our way.”
“You got it,” Rosalie responded.
“Y/N!” Your best friend came running towards you, and you kneeled down towards the edge of the stage. “Girl you killed it! Brought tears to my eyes, I love seeing you in your element girl, you gone be rich!“ She rambles, saying the last part through clenched teeth. She stops and looks up.
“H-Hi Miss Otterbourne. Rosalie. I’m Y/N’s best friend Josephine.” She introduces herself.
“Hello darling,” Salome smiles. Rosalie waves.
“Well, girl,” she was now whispering. “I gotta go, my man is outside waiting for me, but call me when you get home and tell me EVERYTHING.”
You erupted in laughter. Josephine loved her some him.
“You so crazy. Enjoy yourself, and get home safe.” You say back, momentarily reaching for your best friends hand and squeezing it caringly.
“I will girl!” She runs off and out of the venue.
“Well, Miss Y/N,” Rosalie turns to you. “Where do you live? We could drop you off home.”
“Oh that won’t be necessary,” You assured her. “I live right up the street.”
Rosalie paused for a minute. “Come with me,” she grabbed your hand and the two of you scurried out through the exit backstage.
The warm outside breeze grazed your skin as the two of you began to walk semi-dark, summer streets. It wasn’t freezing, but it was a slight bitter chill that left you feeling more on the cold side.
“Here,” She took off her black, furry jacket and placed it around your arms. “It looks better on you anyway.” You gave a toothless smile at her comment.
“Did you actually enjoy my performance tonight?” You ask, somewhat serious.
“Did I?” She scoffs as if you said the most outrageous thing. “Absolutely breathtaking.”
You look down in nervousness. “You’re not so bad yourself. I mean I always knew she had other talented people in her circle but you,” You paused. “You have such a melodic voice. I enjoyed it very much.”
“Well thank you. Much like you, I keep my accolades undercover. It’s like a pleasant surprise. You think you know me and then— boom.” She illustrates her sentence, flicking her hands open, emulating fireworks.
“Well I don’t know how surprised I’d be considering how confident you are,” You say with an instance. “People like that always have something going on.”
“It takes one to know one, right?” She looks at you through low lids, her figure standing a few inches taller than you. For a while it’s silent. Suddenly, you blurt out something you’d only ever think of to yourself.
“Rosalie have you ever loved a woman?” You ask, almost regretting it, but still wanting to know her thoughts. She furrowed her eyebrows in interest, waiting for you to finish instead of answering right away.
“In the way.. you ain’t ‘supposed’ to love a woman?” you continued emphasizing the quotes, finishing your thought.
She sighed in relief. You sensed that you possibly could’ve opened a safe place for her to speak.
“I have loved women since I learned to walk and talk. My aunt and my band family are the only ones who know. They’d say, ‘Ole Rosalie couldn’t catch a man if she put a bra in a net!’ But they knew I didn’t want to. They ain’t give me no trouble. But everybody story ain’t like mine.” She opens up to you and you look at her with soft eyes.
“What about you?” She then turns to you, returning the question. “I’m guessing you have.”
“Nobody knows about me. Nobody but my bestfriend Josephine. I’ve never even been in love before. Not with a man either. But tonight, standing next to you I- I don’t know. I felt kinda like a school girl.”
Rosalie begins to laugh at your confession. She thought it was sweet. Secretly, she felt the same.
“Oh, stop it, It ain’t funny!” You say defensively, tapping her shoulder, but she continues to laugh. And you continue to fall. Before you could pull your hand back, she grabs it, and pulls you into her. The two of you stop walking momentarily, and it’s you, her, and this lonely street. She places a hand on your waist, the other still holding your hand, and comes close enough to your face to separate the two of you with a single piece of paper.
“Dance with me,” She breathes into you.
“But we ain’t got no music,” You say back, smiling foolishly at her impulses.
“Yes we do.” She begins to hum The Very Thought of You, and the two of you sway side to side, your feet moving in a circle around each other. You begin to him with her, the two of you harmonizing on every chorus. In this moment time stood still. An overwhelming feeling of adoration and excitement washed over you. You felt like the only girl in the world. She had a way of building on your romantic tension, all while making you feel like you gained another best friend. It was the perfect night, and you never wanted it to end.
The two of you stop your tango, and she pulls you in, kissing you ever so slowly and passionately. You felt yourself melt into her, the heat of your bodies keeping each other warm. You finally pull back and share a long gaze, her arms still holding you. Your moment was interrupting by a loud honk from a car coming around the corner.
BEEP BEEP.
“You two ready?” Salome smiled, hanging out the passenger window. “Get in!”
Rosalie led you to the back seat, her getting in first and you following, closing the door behind you.
“What’s your address, sugar?” Salome asked. You gave it to her, and off you all were.
“Oh,” Rosalie began, “Before I forget,” She grabs a pad and a pen from underneath the seat to give you. “Can’t leave without your number.”
You smile and take the materials from her hand.
555-8269 Y/N. You wrote in its red ink, drawing a small heart next to it, and kissing the paper, leaving the mark of your now halfway glossed lips. You folded it up and handed to her, and she delicately placed it in her purse. She slid her hand over top of yours, which now rested on your knee, and interlocked your fingers.
“I’ll be expecting you,” You say softly.
“First thing tomorrow morning.” She affirms to you, holding her intense gaze. She lifts up your hand and places a soft, gentle kiss on the back of it.
Before you knew it, you were pulling up in front of your house.
“Thank you again, Salome. I had a wonderful time.” You express, full of gratitude.
“Don’t mention it, doll. I’ve had a great night myself. Now make sure you stay by the phone, hear? You gone be a star. And I’m gone make sure of it.” She says, turning around to face you from her passenger.
“And I think my Rosalie is very fond of you.” She looks at her niece with a proud and accepting smile. Rosalie gives one back.
“Yes ma’am.” You say, blushing of slight embarrassment but also appreciation. You step out the car and walk up your concrete steps.
“Y/N,” Rosalie says out the window. You turn around.
“Yes?”
“Goodnight.” She says, holding onto every moment she has left of this night with you.
“Goodnight, Rosalie,” You say sweetly, but teasingly.
You walked into your home and crept up to your room, careful not to wake anyone up. You run up to look outside your window and watched as the car drove off. You couldn’t believe this was your life. But you were glad that it was.
All night your head spinned, accompanied by thoughts of you and Rosalie. The instant chemistry between the two of you left you in such a fuzzy state. It was the beginning of something new. It felt warm and welcoming— like a warm fudge brownie with cold ice cream on top. The contrast was clear.. but together, you went so well.
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Rosalie O. || I’ve got my eyes on you
Warning • one sided love?, mentions same sex relationship as taboo (nun homophobic ion do that shit)
Genre • lil angst, fluff at the end
Pairing • Rosalie x black fem! reader
A/n: it’s 4 in the morning don’t mind my mistakes 🙃 but I put my heart and soul into this one…it’s kinda short tho but leave me alone 😭😭
You've had your eye on her since you first set foot on this boat. She is stunning, from the way her eyes twinkle with confidence, to how her skin glows in the sun or moonlight, to even the way she carries herself. She is self-assured, knows her worth, and isn't afraid to put others in their place. You found it insanely attractive, but you couldn't act on your feelings because being in a romantic relationship of the same gender is extremely taboo, so you buried your sinful thoughts away for only you to know.
"My Rosalie, you're amazing on the piano, isn't she y/n?" Linnet smiled as she admired her friend's talent on the piano. You blinked out of your trance, nodding.
“Oh yeah she’s very skilled, such lovely talent.”
Rosalie bowed her head and thanked you, and you smiled and walked away, trying not to stare too long.
You found yourself walking towards the deck, where you sipped champagne while staring at the night sky. The stars were beautiful tonight, and the Nile glistened just right in the moonlight; you wish you had someone to share this moment with, but the type of love you desire is forbidden in the eyes of others.
"May I join you, Ms. y/n?" You turn around to see Rosalie, the woman whom you adore.
“Oh Mrs. Otterbourne, of course you can join me” you welcomed her a little too eagerly.
“It’s Ms by the way I’m unmarried” she corrected and you nodded.
"Right my apologies," you said, she gave you a small smile understanding your mistake. You watched her as she leaned against the railing, the wind blowing through her light curls; her beauty was breathtaking, her skin soft and dewy, as if she had been blessed by Aphrodite herself. Your gaze was drawn lower as you examined her attire, which ranged from Coco Chanel to Madeleine Vionnet, it was very rare for people of color to have such money to buy luxurious clothing but she could.
“She’s looks beautiful in blue.”
“Excuse me?” You jolt from hearing her voice, “I- um” my god y/n can you be any more dense, you internally curse at yourself.
“Rosalie, y/n come join the festivities!” you were saved by a drunk Simon bursting through the doors trying to reel you back into the party, but you couldn’t go back and party not after almost accidentally revealing your feelings to your crush who happens to be another woman.
"No thank you, I'm a little tired, I think I'll go get some rest, goodnight to both of you," you said as you walked up the stairs towards your room.
While closing the door you let out a breath of air you didn’t realizing you were holding. You made your way to the bathroom wanting to wash off the embarrassment you were feeling, while in the shower all you could of was her and it was frustrating.
You tried to distract yourself by thinking about tomorrow's activities, they said everyone was going to see an ancient tomb, that should be fun you thought. You were rubbing in your moisturizer when you heard a light knock on your door. You weren't in the mood to open it, and you also didn't feel like talking to anyone so you ignored it.
“It’s me Rosalie, do you mind letting me in? I know you’re awake because your light is still on.” You gasped jumping up from your seat snatching your robe off the bed quickly putting it on.
“May I help you?” You ask politely.
“You know I’m not stupid and I don’t like bein’ played for a fool” she snickered walking pass you entering your room.
“Whatever do you mean Ms. Otter- um I mean Rosalie?” You questioned tying your robe tighter around you. She took a seat on your bed crossing her legs “I mean you y/n, don’t think I don’t notice those longing stares, the way you blush when I complement your blouse or perfume, the way you-“
“Please stop! I'm sorry, okay?" you say, flustered, “I'm going to stop everything; I'm not going to look at you, talk to you, or even breathe in your direction. I know you're probably disgusted with me for having feelings for a woman, and I know it's not right," you hung your head in shame, refusing to make eye contact with her, you can't believe she found out you didn't think you were that obvious. You sat down on the vanity seat, feeling nauseous.
“You’re absolutely right it is seen as wrong but I never said I cared” your head shot up in confusion to see her wearing a flirtatious smirk “I’m sorry if my advances seemed a little- what’s the word…vague? But I am also interested in you. So no need to go boo-hooin’ and apologizin’ darlin ” you couldn’t believe your ears, Rosalie was into you?
“Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“Well I found it amusing seeing you squirm but it was becoming a little too obvious so I came here tonight to tell you I feel the same way.”
To say you were elated was a complete understatement, the most beautiful woman you’ve met like you back. Unable to contain your excitement you let out a little giggle, Rosalie noticed and smiled, you got up and went to join her on the bed.
"So what now?" When you ask, she takes your hands in hers and places them in her lap.
She smiled at you with sincerity. "I am not ashamed in who I am but I’m also not dumb either we'll be known as friends to others, but to us it'll be much more" she rubbed your knuckles with her thumb while staring at you in awe "Well I should be off to my room now it's pretty late and don’t wanna raise questions" you frowned not wanting to see her go but knowing you'd see her tomorrow brought you joy.
"Night y/n and don’t forget I’ve got my eye on you.”
"Good night Rosalie," you smiled as she kissed your cheek and exited your room, and you watched her walk down to her room before returning to yours.
"Wow, what a night."
Taglist 💌: @abenomeiiii, @lustfulbarbie, @locoforshuri
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