#tonights conversation podcast

[latina4rmbx]

I Can Buy Myself Flowers...

Sometimes I need to figure my shit out. Sometimes I take so long to figure my shit out that it loses it's luster. I've been pondering this post for a bit and it's learned me a few things:

I need to charge my laptop. As I lay in bed, stroke of insight comes to me, but if I pick up my phone, I'm going straight to social media and there goes my insight. At least with my laptop I don't have social media embedded in any of the apps, I think, and I can get what I need to get off my chest.

I sometimes over/underestimate myself and it's to my own detriment

I was in an extreme emotional state yesterday with no real outlet. I had no reason to cry but I felt that ache or that hollow in my chest. I even asked a friend for a sad movie suggestion so I can get it out. I still haven't seen the movie

I know I've said this before, and I guess I will repeat it until I understand, you really don't realize the impact you make/have made on a persons life sometimes. If you're lucky, people will give you your flowers while you're still here

This is a great segue into the whole reason we're here...

Yesterday I posted a Meme that reads: Her: I ordered us new phone cases. The fucking phone cases (if I can add the pic here I will) then I wrote: Me as a GF. Let me just try to post this thing because 1. it was the catalyst and 2. I think it truly sums me up as a GF and 3. It's cute AF. Take in the entire post lol

An ex-boyfriend reaches out to me to make a joke about the phone cases.

His joke: "This was us but I had more ass than you."

In case you were wondering what my response was...this is the lead up to the crux of this AM post. From here on out I'm going to refer to him as Guy. Another person comes into play and I'll call them Man.

Me: But that's a real message I sent to a real man who probably has more ass than I do too 😂 I haven't checked it out enough. We haven't done sexy time yet 😃

Guy: Whaaaaaat (I didn't count the A's but there were quite a few)

Me: Stop it

Guy: This is real?! Not a drill ?!?

A little more chatting about Man

Guy: Ok well he gets you. That's important

Here is where the mood changes. Up to this point we were laughing, well Guy was laughing at my antics (because I be antic-ing)

Me: Well we don't see each other much cuz life be lifin' the shit out of us but it's good lol. Thanks for inquiring about the drills.

Side Note: He speaks to me in voice note after a bit so I'll have to transcribe. I'll do it verbatim but I KNOW I will cry.

Guy: Good speaking to you again. Instead of us, just sending funny videos to each other... Though I like that too.

Me: Thank you for being everything.

Me: I'm really lucky I met you Guy. I hope you know that. Good or bad you always have a special place in my heart

Guy: Can I say: Ditto. One day I'll be able to put into words what our time together has meant and always meant to me

Me: It's not necessary. I appreciate it anyway

Guy: Well I think people need to get their flowers!!!!

See the correlation to the title now?

Me: I do too & life is shorter than we realize.

Here's where his voice notes start. There are only 2 but each is about a min long so it may take some time (& Coffee) to transcribe. I did not respond to him in VN form. As a matter of fact the conversation between him and I's portion will end with my first response, then I'll move on to something else. It'll make sense

VN1: No, I I I mean that in all truthfulness. Uhm, people deserve their flowers cause you never know when somebody's gonna go or somebody saying I'm never going to talk to you ever again. So, No I wanted to always tell you thank you because I wasn't always uhm I dunno. I guess life gives you perspective once you get some distance and time. I'm not trying to speak deep or like philosophical. It's just one of those things where you know. I remember being young. I remember, you know, being infatuated with you and not knowing how to handle that and also not knowing how to handle when I had unfinished business or you know uhm. There were so many things I was learning on the fly. It's like flying a plane and fixing the wing while you're flying it. I should've just landed the plane and learned my lesson.

VN2: But even when I was flying the plane, so to speak, or hanging out with you uhm, I always wanted to thank you. I mean, you know, there were times that, you know, I really made you feel like shit and I'm sorry. And there's times there, you know, where you and I were at odds for whatever reason, and you know. I wasn't always great, you know. I learned a lot from you. I learned about forgiveness, and I learned about, you know, about how to truly love somebody or what to have when you truly love somebody. Or that so much, that that that our multiple interactions have taught me. From the beginning all the way to the last one. And it was so fun in a weird way to have you in my apartment that day when we were saying good bye to T. And that was kinda like uh, if this was a sitcom, and that was the last episode, it'd be a good one.

Me: The one where we said good bye

If you didn't get it, my response is a nod to ye olde show "Friends."

Here's where it gets interesting/sad, I was crying typing that response to Guy. However, I went to the counsel, which is 2 people. 1 who knows him and one who doesn't. I'm going to only share the conversation with the one who doesn't know him because it was sweet, our back and forth. For the sake of consistency they will be dubbed, C1 (LOL - is that consistent?). Ok, ok, Lady. She'll be dubbed Lady. As in, I spoke to the Lady

Me: Listen to this. It's my ex boyfriend & THIS made me cry.

Lady: Awww O

Me: You know how you feel like you didn't mean anything to someone and then you find out you meant everything. This did it for me. Bad timing. But when the timing was right...It was too late. He broke up with his GF and I had broken up with *CENSORED*. We were ripe for the picking but it didn't feel...the same.

Lady: Yes I now the feeling

Lady: At least you now know you meant something big to him

Me: Yeah. It's comforting

Me: I always wondered if I was doing love wrong

That's it. Not the end of the conversation but the point that he was helping me with, without even being aware. I always wondered if I was doing love wrong. Craziness because some people never think of love in terms of something to consider or work on, it's just what they feel or do. But what does that mean? To feel love. What does it mean to DO love? You know.

Lady: I don't think you've ever done love wrong. Just was given to the wrong people at the wrong time because as a friend you are very loveable and you're giving, attentive

Me: Thank you

Me: I had to work on the friendship love too

Lady: No need to thank me for the truth

Me: I know I used to do friendship wrong

Lady: Well I'm glad I get the best of you ❤️❤️

That was literally the end of hers and I's conversation.

In the other conversation I mention feeling validated. I think this is the part that kept me up half the night. Why did I need him or anyone to validate me? Then it clicked, I value his opinion of me. He's one of the very few people who can tell me "O, it's not a good look." He does it with such a pure and true heart. It doesn't hurt when he's putting me in my place. Again, I'm speaking as a friend here, not as a lover. That ship has sailed a long time ago. Two years ago, when we reconnected through mutual heartbreak, solidified it.

We were GREAT as lovers and being in love but we're sooooo much better as champions for each other. We cheer each other one from the sidelines. I guess that's what happens when time and distance give us perspective.

Thank you readers for reading. I truly appreciate you taking any moment out of your day to read through my posts.

I can buy myself flowers...But why would I have to?

XOXO

Thanks for Reading

[all-thestories-aretrue]

Miles to Johnny: I never told you, you were my first actual friend after my change.

Me, immediately: 😭😭😭

[princesssarcastia]

the problem with being a lonely shut-in who wants to write about relationships is that it actually requires as much research as like, wanting to write about a guy who can have casual conversations about mechanical engineering.

and maybe that's just enough so you can SOUND like you know a bit about mechanical engineering. maybe it's not that much research at all. but it's still more research on relationships than i feel like a lot of other people doing the same thing have to do, which is none at all

[thixcy]

“Just because you married, don’t mean you got a husband in spirit… don’t mean you got a wife in spirit”

Source: TonightsConversation via instagram

[siriuslylantsov]

spencer starts trying to tone down his rambling in the workplace in efforts to look more professional

but he can't just not go down a rabbithole when he starts thinking

so he starts sending you voicemails whenever he feels the urge to start chattering

literally 3-5 minutes of a windy did you know ramble

then it's see you tonight :) and he hangs up

“hey, angel.” 

his voice rings out through your phone's speaker. you can almost see him as he speaks–his hand shielding the mic to eliminate any external noise while he frantically explains whatever's on his mind today.

you set your phone up nearby, turning the volume up enough so you can hear it while you go about your menial tasks of brushing your teeth and making the bed.

you opt for his voice instead of your playlist during your commute to work—softer now, a quiet murmur through your headphones. you can hear the hum of the jet, the muffled conversation from his team, followed by a sharp reid that brings his ramblings to a screeching halt, promising to continue in the next one. (he does, picking up exactly where he left off.)

the messages accumulate throughout the day, filling your inbox. you should be more worried about the capacity and the possibility that you might miss messages from other people, but he's the only one who ever leaves you any. who even uses voicemail anymore?

they become your personal podcast, taking up far too much storage on your phone. you’ve saved every single one. they help when he's away and you miss him. you replay them more than you’d like to admit–you’ve nearly got them all memorised.

[writingbuckets]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐢

paige bueckers x influencer!reader

wc: 1.7k

synopsis: Y/N and Paige’s relationship evolves from a slow burn to a deep, committed love as they navigate the complexities of their careers and dreams.

warnings: emotional tension, angst, jealousy, explicit sexual content, fluff, relationship growth

a/n: thanks so much for the kind messages on part 1! enjoy <3

You can feel the energy in the arena even from the parking lot. Fans are buzzing, and you catch glimpses of them sporting jerseys and waving signs in support of Paige and her teammates. There’s a spark of excitement mixed with nerves in your stomach as you make your way to the courtside seats Paige promised.

You glance down at the ticket she sent you through DM with a wry smile. It’s a little surreal, actually being here. The back-and-forth messages with Paige left you curious and maybe a little too interested in seeing her play. Overrated, you’d said. Well, tonight she’d get the chance to prove you wrong.

As you settle into your seat, you text Taylor to let her know you’ve arrived. She’s responds in caps “EXCITED FOR YOU”, sending laughing emojis and a “TRY NOT TO FALL IN LOVE, Y/N.”

In the locker room, Paige’s teammates are already in pre-game mode, stretching and reviewing plays, but Azzi catches sight of Paige checking her phone for the third time in five minutes. She grins knowingly, nudging Jana beside her.

“Okay, what’s up with you?” Azzi asks Paige with a teasing tone. “You’ve got that look.”

Paige pretends not to know what she’s talking about, tucking her phone away with a smirk. “What look?”

“Don’t play coy. This is a new level of focus even for you,” Jana chimes in, eyeing her with mock seriousness. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with your biggest critic being courtside tonight, would it?”

Paige rolls her eyes but can’t hide the grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Just trying to make sure she gets her money’s worth,” she says with a shrug. “Not every day you get a ‘critique’ from someone who’s never even seen you play live.”

KK, who’s been stretching nearby, perks up, catching the last part of the conversation. “Wait, is this the podcaster?” She laughs, sitting up and pointing at Paige. “The one who called you overrated? Oh, this is too good.”

“Yeah, we’ve been talking a little,” Paige admits, trying to sound casual but clearly enjoying the reaction from her friends.

Morgan snickers. “Talking, huh? I don’t think she meant that comment as an invitation, Paige.”

Paige gives a mock glare. “Please. She’s practically begging to be impressed.”

Aubrey chuckles, crossing her arms. “Just don’t get too distracted out there, superstar. She might be here to see you crash and burn.”

Paige laughs and waves them off, but there’s an undeniable confidence in her tone. “Oh, trust me. She’s not ready for what she’s about to see.”

**********

You watch the team make their entrance, the crowd roaring as each player is introduced. When Paige is called, the noise is almost deafening, and you find yourself instinctively clapping along, even as you try to stay cool.

Finally, the game starts. Within moments, it’s clear why Paige has all the attention. She commands the court with ease, weaving around defenders with a blend of grace and intensity that makes it hard to look away. Every shot, every pass—it’s like she’s putting on a show, and with each move, she glances your way, her gaze almost daring you to look impressed.

You catch her eye after she lands a particularly smooth three-pointer, and she gives a slight smirk, as if to say, Not bad, huh?

You raise an eyebrow, mouthing back, “Still not impressed.”

In response, she grins and picks up her pace, dominating every play with a flair that seems designed to taunt you. The more you watch, the more you find yourself pulled into the game, barely noticing the time passing. But every so often, her eyes find yours, and it’s like the entire arena fades away for just a moment.

The final buzzer sounds, and Paige’s team wins by a comfortable margin. As the players cool down and talk to the press, she sends a quick look in your direction, clearly reveling in her victory. She approaches the sidelines, her teammates trailing behind and giving her little nudges and knowing looks.

Azzi shoots you a cheeky grin as she passes. “Hey, thanks for coming. Glad Paige had her own personal cheerleader tonight.”

Jana adds with a laugh, “More like underrated, huh?”

Before you can respond, Paige strides up, wiping sweat from her brow and grinning with that signature self-assurance.

“So?” she says, folding her arms and looking at you expectantly. “Any thoughts from my favorite hater?”

You keep your expression neutral, even as your pulse quickens under her direct gaze. “Not bad. You almost looked like you knew what you were doing out there.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Almost? That’s high praise coming from you.”

You shrug, tilting your head thoughtfully. “Guess I’ll have to watch a few more games to make sure it wasn’t a fluke.”

Her eyes light up at that. “Oh, so you’re coming back?”

“Only if you keep up that level of play,” you reply, not missing a beat. “I’d hate to waste my time.”

Her teammates are still hovering nearby, soaking up the banter with matching grins.

KK gives Paige a nudge. “Careful, Bueckers. I think she’s starting to like you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first,” Paige quips, giving you a sidelong glance. “Some people just need a little convincing.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “You think you’ve convinced me?”

“Not yet,” she admits, a teasing challenge in her eyes. “But I think I’m close.”

You can’t help but laugh, enjoying the back-and-forth more than you’d like to admit. She’s good at this—smooth, confident, and annoyingly charming. And the way she keeps looking at you, with that mix of amusement and intrigue, makes it harder to stick to your original opinion.

As the conversation winds down, you start to think about heading out. But before you can make a move, Paige’s voice cuts through your thoughts.

“So, a few of us are grabbing food to celebrate,” she says casually, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You should come. Unless, of course, you have better things to do?”

Her eyes are challenging, and you can feel her teammates watching you, clearly curious to see what you’ll say. Part of you wants to play it cool, brush it off, but there’s a bigger part that’s intrigued, drawn to the idea of spending more time with her.

“Why not?” you reply, keeping your tone light. “Could be interesting.”

She grins, giving her teammates a triumphant look before gesturing for you to follow.

The group heads to a local spot where they’re regulars, filling up a large booth with laughter and chatter. You find yourself seated next to Paige, who’s now relaxed and fully in her element, her focus entirely on you.

“So, tell me,” she says, leaning in as she sips her drink. “What made you think I wasn’t as good as people say?”

You shrug, pretending to think hard. “I think some players need to be humbled sometimes. Keeps things balanced.”

“Oh, really?” She smirks. “So you’re, like, the self-appointed hype police?”

“If that’s what it takes.” You give her a challenging look. “And, judging by your performance, I think you’re taking my job pretty seriously.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Maybe I just like proving people wrong.”

Aubrey, who’s overheard, chimes in with a grin. “Yeah, Paige is kind of a show-off when it comes to impressing people.”

Paige rolls her eyes, but she’s clearly enjoying the attention. “Hey, I like a challenge.”

You lean back, folding your arms as you meet her gaze. “Good to know. Might have to challenge you more often, then.”

The night goes on, filled with jokes, teasing, and the undeniable chemistry simmering between you and Paige. Her teammates keep throwing her looks, nudging her when she gets too obvious with her attention, but she brushes them off with ease.

By the end of the night, you’re more than a little curious about where this dynamic might lead. Paige, it turns out, isn’t just an incredible player—she’s clever, competitive, and, as much as you hate to admit it, a lot of fun to be around.

As you say your goodbyes and head out, she catches your arm, pulling you back for one last exchange.

“So,” she murmurs, her voice low, “can I ask for your opinion on me now?”

You meet her gaze, a slow smile spreading across your face. “ I’ll tell you when you make an appearance on the show.”

She laughs, nodding as she steps back. “You can count on it.”

You linger a moment, savoring the playfulness in her tone and the easy confidence in her smile. Her teammates start calling her over, and you see her hesitate, glancing between you and her friends. It’s almost as if she’s weighing her next move, and the idea that Paige Bueckers might actually be a little reluctant to end the night brings a grin to your face.

“Better go before they start making up embarrassing stories about you,” you say with a nod toward her friends, who are watching the two of you with unabashed interest.

She chuckles, eyes glinting with something mischievous. “Don’t worry, they don’t have any dirt on me… yet.”

“Oh, so you’re planning on giving them some?” you shoot back.

Paige tilts her head thoughtfully. “Only if it’s worth it.” Her voice is low, suggestive, and you can’t ignore the electric undertone beneath her words. She glances toward the exit, then back at you, taking a small step closer. “But, you know… I wouldn’t mind getting to know my ‘biggest hater” a little better.”

Her words hang in the air, and you feel your pulse quicken. There’s a part of you that wants to keep this light, play it cool, but another part—a part you’re not fully ready to admit yet—is undeniably intrigued by her invitation.

With a playful smile, you shrug. “Maybe you’ll earn that chance. If you’re lucky.”

Her laughter rings out, bright and clear. “I think I make my own luck.”

You offer her a mock salute. “We’ll see about that, superstar.”

As you turn to leave, you feel her gaze on you, lingering, as though she’s already planning her next move. And as you step out of the restaurant, the night air feels different—charged with possibility. You’ve seen a side of Paige that few get to see, and it’s clear this game of wit and challenge between you isn’t over yet.

But for now, you head home, wondering what exactly you’ve gotten yourself into.

[bullet-prooflove]

War Stories: Frank Langdon x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @julessworldd @yousigned-upforthis @dizzybee03 @nowandajenn

Companion piece to:

Hypocrite - Frank struggles to make amends for a past wrongs.

Crash - Almost getting you fired wasn't the lowest point of Frank's addiction.

Rock Bottom - Frank hits rock bottom when he sees the devastation his addiction's caused.

Every Damn Day - A drunk text leads to a confession.

Wet Dream (NSFW) - Frank sometimes dreams about you.

Dating after Frank is pointless.

You learn that early on in the year after the break up. The men you meet they don’t get you or the job. They want your war stories but not the reality of what goes with them.

It’s why they don’t ask for a second date, why you don’t bother following up after spending the night with them.  The honesty of it all is each and every man you fuck is just another way of forgetting the one you want to be with, the one you can’t bring yourself to talk to.

“I’m worried about you.” Dana says during a quiet moment in The Pitt. “I’m all for free love but that’s the third guy in a fortnight you’ve 86ed. I’m concerned you’re using it to outrun the blue eyed elephant in the room.”

She’s not wrong, every single fucking gives you a relief, a break in the pressure that feels like it’s suffocating you with every shift. That high, it never lasts because when you go home, you think of Frank, about the way he used to touch you, how he used to unburden you of your thoughts with all those silly little ways of his.

“I’m telling you.” She continues, eyes fixed on the board as another name switches position. “You’re one bad date away from becoming a statistic in a true crime podcast and I don’t want that for you.”

It hits home because later that night you end up being the SANE nurse on call when a girl is brought in after a Tinder date that had gone so fucking wrong, it had left her with permanent damage.

You’d spent the rest of your shift reflecting on your own bullshit, wondering if you were willing to keep risking your own safety to avoid the inevitable conversation with Frank.

That’s why you turn up on his doorstep tonight because you can’t compromising yourself and honestly you can’t keep torturing him, you see his agony every time he looks at you, how badly he wants to reach out. You want that too, it’s just hard, so fucking hard to trust him again after everything that happened. You almost walk away, say to hell with it but then he opens the door and everything else just falls away because there’s the man you love in plaid pyjama bottoms and the t-shirt you used to sleep in back when the two of you were together.

“Hey.” You say quietly, the ache growing in your chest. “I think I’m ready to talk.”

Love Frank? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[mauvecherie-writes]

duality: l.hamilton

pairing: lewis hamilton x black journalist!reader

summary: it’s two years on since and then a lot about your dynamic has changed. things are official and everyone is still none the wiser …

tags: 18+, MDNI, NSFW, extremely sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, dom/sub elements, spit, choking, some slight edging, aftercare.

w.c: 4.5K

reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @emjayewrites @chaneajoyyy @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @angelinaevans @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @samiwzx @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew

previous part: super soaker.

Your friends loved a good gossip session and tonight’s topic as you sat in the exclusive club ‘Lounge 418’ was who had the best dick game in Hollywood. You had very little input considering you were still reaching the heights of your popularity as a journalist and you barely paid attention to the couple of men who had tried to get some type of access to you and it was going to be denied each time.

“The athletes though.” Marie smirked as the rest of the table hummed in agreement. “The toxicity adds a little sweetness to it.” She added which caused you to giggle. Chanel turned her body to face yours.

“Aren’t they all in your DM’s anyway? A fine ass woman talking about them in detail. I know that gives them an ego boost.”

It does. they messaged you all the time, wanting to quiz your knowledge in person. An arrogance that annoyed the hell out of you so you never replied. The only one who ever caught your eye was Lewis and it worked in his favour because he approached you accordingly. You had posted a podcast episode recapping on the events of his race in Brazil in 2021. As a long time fan of his - that was the race that sparked your love for him all over again.

The way you had spoken so passionately about him and his career, defending his right to the championship. Lewis had sent you a message thanking you for your support. It was short and sweet but your crush on him drove you to give him an answer then everything snow balled from there. That one episode changed your life for the next two and a half years.

When your relationship initially began, it was strictly casual sex but things got intense pretty quickly and the NDA was scrapped when things became more official between you. However, the both of you loved and respected each other’s privacy thus no one, even your closest friends knew.

So lost within your mind, you had forgotten that you were the focus of the conversation until Lewis’s sport was mentioned, your head snapped upwards.

“What about that F1 guy you’re obsessed with?”

Your cheeks warmed as a sense of bashfulness filled you. “What about him?”

“Has he ever slid into your DM’s?”

“I mean…” You shrugged your shoulders as you sipped on your French 75. “He was pretty chill and he was thanking me for my support for him for my podcast episode.”

“And that was it?” Marie raised her eyebrow and a small smirk playing on her face.

“We spoke here and there but that was about it.” You replied, trying to keep it as vague as possible. You remembered how flirty he was and how you had gravitated towards him. Your crush did quite a chunk of heavy lifting but Lewis was a natural charmer and he invoked feelings within you that had thought were gone. He brought them out and they haven’t dissipated since.

“He just looks like an absolute sweetheart. I don’t think he’d be that freaky though - seems like the vanilla type.” Your friend Vanessa commented. “Not that there's anything wrong with Vanilla.” She added.

“Nah, I say it’s the sweethearts you need to be on the lookout for. One minute, they’re feeding your strawberries and the next, they’re eating your pussy from the back and their thumb slipping into your ass.”

“That was oddly specific Marie.” Chanel raised her eyebrow with a grimace which caused all of you to burst out laughing. You hid your face behind your glass with a smile on your face.

As the alcohol flowed so did the topics and Lewis was no longer a focus which caused you to relax. You were beginning to think about him too much even though you had been with him in the morning before he left.

Then your phone buzzed in your bag. You placed your drink down and took your phone out and a message notification was on the screen.

🏎️💨: I see you.

You looked up from your phone and tried to search the crowds in the lounge but it was too dimly lit.

You: Lol okay, Mr Creeper. Where do you see me from?

🏎️💨: I’m a few tables ahead of you to the right. I saw trying to look for me. I’m in the blue cap with the TH tracksuit.

As soon as you read the description of his appearance, you quickly spotted him and you couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself. His attempts at disguising himself in public were always terrible and him dressed top to bottom in a Tommy Hilfiger two piece was certainly not doing him any favours.

You: You are terrible at hiding yourself lol. You’re staring right at me.

You: Also, what are you doing here??? I thought you were having a quiet night until I came to your place.

🏎️💨: The boys dragged me out. They say I haven’t been out in a while. I didn’t know we were on our way here until we were outside.

🏎️💨: Come and say hi.

“Who are you texting that’s making you smile like that?” Marie as she tried to snoop, looking down at your phone. You quickly locked your screen and placed your phone back into your bag.

“Nobody.” You smiled at her as you got up. Smiling at everyone, “I just saw someone, I’m gonna say go say hi and I’ll be back.”

Your friends watched you as you walked away from your table, their eyes widening when they see the men sitting at the table.

As you drew closer, your smile could not be stopped as you saw him sitting there on top of the booth, his legs spread. You could spot his rainbow coloured pearl necklace from the top of the track jacket.

With a small wave to the other men, you made it in front of Lewis, standing in between his legs.

“You look good enough to eat.” He mumbled in your ear as you hugged him.

“You look good too.” You replied with a soft giggle. His head turned slightly into your neck and placed a kiss in the depression of your collarbone through the fabric of your top.

Your sweet spot.

You almost moaned but your will power compelled you to pull away.

“Are you allowed to hug me like that in public?” You softly asked him.

“Anything I say goes and I wanted that hug. I haven’t seen you since this morning.” He licked his lips as he let his eyes fall down to your midriff. It was like he could see himself back in your bed this morning. You tapped his thigh so he could focus on your face instead and once he held your gaze and sighed, you rolled your eyes.

“Always in the gutter.” You commented.

“You’re in there with me.” He threw back at you with a smirk. With his grip on your forearm, he pulled you closer in between his legs. Feeling his warmth had you taking a deep breath as he stared at you without word.

“So what’s on the agenda? Everyone’s looking at us, they’re gonna pick up on it.”

“It’s been two years, let them speculate.”

“You know now that I’ve seen you, I just want to leave now and my girls are gonna ask questions.”

“Tell them what you want.” He said. “In about thirty minutes, you’re gonna meet me out front and we’ll go back to my place.”

“What are we doing at your place?” You asked as you played with his zipper.

“You’ll find out when we get there but make sure you book a hair appointment soon.”

“Jesus Christ.” You breathed out as you let his words sink into your bones.

“Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“Okay … Sir.”

“Good girl.”

God, the urge to kiss him was strong within you but instead you pulled away from him and got back to reality. You patted his chest before you finally withdrew and went back to your table.

“What in the hell was that?!” Chanel exclaimed. “You were trying to play coy with us but you knew that Lewis Hamilton was going to be here?!”

“Yeah, friends my ass.” Vanessa snickered

“First of all, I didn’t know he was going to be here.” You spoke as you reached for the bottle of fresh champagne on the table.

“Was he the one messaging you?” “Is this the first time you’ve seen him in a social setting?” “Girl what the hell was that? Y’all were all up on each other?!” “Yeah, what was that about?”

“What is with all these damn questions?” You tried to laugh them off and focused on drinking. All your friends narrowed their eyes at you.

“This is not over.” Maria pointed at you.

“Whatever.” You playfully smacked her hand away from your direction. And for the next thirty minutes, you had tried to focus back your attention on your friends but since talking to Lewis, your body was riddled with anticipation.

Not wanting to wait any longer, you quickly said your goodbyes, they playfully jeered you as you walked away. You rolled your eyes laughing at their remarks. When you got outside, Lewis’s bodyguard was waiting outside of his truck to open the door for you.

You greeted him softly as you slid into the truck and sat yourself beside your boyfriend, who placed a light kiss on your cheek. You melted into the side of his body as you rode from the lounge to his property.

When you got up to his penthouse, you were in awe of the interior design. You especially loved his floor to ceiling windows that gave you the most perfect view of the New York skyline. Your toes wiggled against the heated floors as you had taken your heels off the moment you entered his home.

You were standing by the window when Lewis came behind you, holding a small glass of wine.

“You always said that you’d wanted to taste one of my wines from my infamous wine fridge.”

“I always found it interesting that you’re not much of a drinker but every home you own has a wine fridge and a small bar.”

“I like the aesthetic of it.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean I can’t cater to the people around me who do.”

You took a sip of the beverage and you almost moaned at the richness of the wine hitting your tastebuds. You had always been a wine snob and Lewis indulged in your tastes by buying you expensive wines that you wouldn’t even think of.

“I can’t believe you got me a bottle of Burgundy.”

“You’d been raving about it for a week when you saw that it was being auctioned. Personally I don’t see what the fuss is about.” His last comment caused you to laugh. The bottle was a Chateau Latour from 1984, matured for forty years and you had wanted it since your first big paycheck. The bottle being auctioned was a blessing in disguise but you always talked yourself out actually spending close to £500 for it.

Lewis bought it for you without a blink.

You took another sip, a larger one than the last.

“It has very intense notes. It’s herby but has a lot of fruity notes coming to the top. Black cherries and blackberries is what I taste the most but it leaves an earthy note when it’s done.”

“You sound so hot when you talk like that.” Lewis softly groaned which caused you to blush. You placed the nearly empty wine glass down as he encroached into your personal space. You tried to ignore the way that he was staring you down which was causing your heart to beat incredibly fast. You had always reacted like this to him and you honestly thought that was never going to change.

You licked your lips as he cupped your cheeks in his hands and caressed your skin with his thumbs.

“I just love hearing you talk about things you’re passionate about.” He traced your bottom lip with his thumb as he dropped one of his hands to your waist and pulled you into his body.

“Thank you.” You whispered, admiring his beauty up close. You loved the small beauty spot that sat high on his cheekbone and the double nose piercings with diamonds that caught the light from all angles. His lashes were long and curled and as he looked at you - they seemed to be touching his cheeks.

“Want a taste of the wine?” You asked with a little smirk on your lips as Lewis moved his hand to the back of your head.

“Yeah, give me a taste.” He mumbled before he leaned down and captured your mouth. Lewis moaned softly as he savoured the residue of the wine still on your lips. You couldn’t move your head much as he had moved his hands to cup your face in his palms as he controlled the kiss. You melted into his hold, silently begging for more as you held onto his wrists trying to stabilise yourself.

You nibbled on his bottom lip which caused him to growl, he walked you backwards until you were pressed into the window behind you. Finally, he moved his hands away from your face and trailed them down your body and gripped you as you wrestled with his tongue. His hands dipped into the hem of your skirt until one of his fingers hooked on your thong.

“Can we move to the bedroom?” You whispered as Lewis kissed down the length of your neck. Your fingers moved to his hair, tugging on his braids as his tongue licked on your pretty brown skin.

“No one can see you from up here.” He said as he licked on your earlobe before sucking on it.

“Maybe next time but I want you to take me on your bed.”

“You want me to fuck you into my mattress is that it?”

“Yes.” You gasped at his words and then he picked you up in his arms and began walking towards the bedroom. You capture his lips again - in a far more frantic manner as you clawed at his clothes, begging him to take them off. He threw you onto his king sized bed and then discarded his jacket and white vest.

“Take it all off.” He commanded you which caused you to whimper. You stripped out of your clothes until you were left in just your thong and before you could pull them down, Lewis pulled you towards him by your ankle, squealing as he dragged you. Your back settled down onto the bed as Lewis positioned himself in between your legs and pulled your thongs away from your cunt.

Lewis felt you tremble as he parted your folds with his fingers, teasing them as he watched you react to his touch.

“I always tell you this but you have such a pretty pussy sweetheart.”

“And you love playing with my pretty pussy.”

“Yeah I do. I’m gonna play with you and make you feel so good until I’ve had enough.” You moaned at his words and thrusted your pussy into his face. Lewis chuckled at your desperation, pressing the pad of his thumb on your clit.

“How bad do you want it?” He asked you as you took off your underwear completely.

“I want it so bad baby.” You replied as he got onto his knees and placed your legs on his shoulders. “Please.” You pleaded.

“Ugh.” Lewis groaned. “I love it when you get like this. So needy before I even touch you.” He turned his head to place kisses on the inner of your thighs.

“Because you love teasing me until I can’t take it.” He smirked at you right before he buried his head in your thighs. The first burst of your small whimpers left you as he wrapped his lips around your clit and softly sucked it into his mouth. Your hands quickly found their way into your hair, tugging on the strands as he sucked on your sensitive bud. His eyes moved upward to meet yours that were already looking down at him. Lewis’s gaze was so intense as he caught your every reaction.

Shaky breaths left you as he flicked his tongue back and forth on your nub. Your sweetness trickled into his mouth, dipping the muscle into your cunt. You squirmed in his arms as he continued giving you slow strokes of his tongue before changing the motion into a suction.

“Oh shit!” You gasped as you jerked up to your elbows and pushed the back of your heels into his muscled, tattooed back. Lewis softly groaned against you as his cock strained in his pants.

“Just like that.” You moaned as you pulled on the covers beneath you as you rolled your hips into his mouth. Just as your orgasm was on the eclipse, he pulled away from you and your sound of despair was music to his ears as he grabbed a strip of condoms from the bedside table and he threw them beside you on the bed.

“I hate it when you stop just as I’m about to cum.” You whined as you watched him cover his dick with the condom.

“I know sweetheart but tonight, I only want to feel you cumming on me.” He told you as he traced your opening with the tip of his cock as he crowded your body from above. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he hiked your legs to his waist. Lewis leaned down and pressed a searing kiss onto your lips, you hummed into his mouth as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

He slowly slid inside.

“Fuck.” The both of you sighed. You dug your nails into his shoulders as he slid further into your cunt. Your lips brushed against each other as he slowly dragged his cock in and out of you as you continued to adjust to the stretch. Two years on and you still took a little time to accommodate him.

He placed a kiss on your hairline as he whispered sweet words in your ear. “Always tight and sweet for me.” You whimpered at his words as you tried to push your hips up to encourage him to pick up speed but all he did was put his hands in the crook of your knees, pushing them down. From the new position, his chains were dangling down into your face.

“Baby.” You called him.

“Yeah baby?”

“Don’t go sweet on me. I need you.” His strokes were slow, building his momentum but hearing you say that made his jaw clench. He’d always tried to be gentle with you never really letting his mask slip but there were times before where he had given you a taste and you craved for Lewis to let go of his inhibition.

“I’ll ruin you sweetheart. I’ll ruin you for good.” He mumbled as he pecked your lips.

“I’m yours. Do what you want to me.”

Lewis let your words wash over you and they made him buckle. He dropped his forehead onto yours with his eyes closed.

“Do you know the traffic light system?” He asked you and you quickly nodded your head in response.”

“Green means go, amber is slow down and red is stop.”

“Good girl.” He hummed, giving you one more kiss. “I still want a safe word.”

“Burgundy.” You shot out an answer which caused him to smirk.

“That’s my girl.” He sat up but he was still holding you down as he angled his hips and hit your spot at a different angle. Your breath ceased, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he began to focus on that same spot - thrusting into you hard and fast. Your walls tightly clenched around him, strangling his cock as your body was swept in pleasure. Because of the previous build up, your orgasm was quickly rising.

He could feel your warmth and wetness through the sheath of the latex and for the umpteenth time, his mind wandered to how you’d feel without the barrier in between you. His knees were already buckling , he knew without the condom, he’d crumble. However, he had to focus. Your moans were calling out to him, your hand was pressing at his abdomen to try and relieve some of the pressure but he wasn’t going to let up.

He would get you right to the edge, get your legs shaking before he would stop. Edging you over and over until you were begging with tears trailing down the sides of your face.

“Please, please, please, please.” You rambled as you thrashed your head around, completely overwhelmed with your nerves being overshot by his actions and his dick pushing deeper inside of you. Your eyes were closed as you tried to regulate your breathing to focus on not climaxing.

“Open your eyes baby.” Lewis grabbed your cheeks, the pain of his blunt nails digging into your skin forced you to open your eyes. “There you go. I need you to keep looking at me as I fuck you stupid.”

He hiked up your right leg to his shoulder as he picked up his pace, pounding into you harder and faster.

“Lewis!” You exclaimed his name as your back arched off the bed, gasping for air as his hips snapped harshly against your skin. He loved the way his name fell from your lips, the best music to his ears. “Right there baby!”

“Open your mouth.” He demanded and you promptly let your mouth part. He hovered above you and let some spit drop into your mouth. You whimpered as you quickly swallowed and showed him your tongue to show him that you’d done it.

“That’s my good girl.” He smiled at you and then wiped your bottom lip, smudging the last of your lipstick. His fingers were so close and you took them into your mouth, sucking on them causing his rhythm to stutter. He pushed his fingers a little bit further into your mouth which caused you to gag a little bit and you kept sucking on his digits.

You have a thing for choking and he’d picked up on that but hadn’t really done much to play with you until now. Lewis took his fingers out of your mouth and brought them to your neck and applied just enough pressure to make your walls clamp up around him. You squeezed your eyes closed as more tears came - you couldn’t hold back anymore, our body was begging for release and Lewis continued with his teasing.

“Hold your legs up.” He told you and when your arms hooked around your trembling thighs, Lewis bent his body so that his head was closer to your chest and took a nipple into his mouth. He grazed your areola with his teeth before sucking on your nipple causing your walls to quiver around his dick.

Even without words, Lewis could feel your body crying for release. “My dirty, dirty girl. I can feel you milking my dick, just trying to take me for all my worth.” Using his weight to hold you down, one hand still around his neck and the other coming in between your bodies to pinch your clit before moving his fingers in swift and fast circles on your nub.

“This pretty pussy doesn’t want to let me go sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear before placing a kiss on your shoulder. “Squeezing me so fucking tight.”

“I need to come.” Your lips were against his ear, his cold jewellery touching your warm, flushed skin. “Please let me come, Sir. Let me come for you.”

“What if I don’t want you to? What if I just want you right on the edge? Hm? What if it brings me pleasure edging you and watching you suffer?”

“Baby…”

“You can stop it now. Just give me the word and I’ll end it all right now.”

You shook your head. “Don’t stop.”

Lewis then shifted your position yet again, this time with your knees now on each side of your head. He began fucking you harder than before which left you incoherent, begging and pleading for any and everything.

Your juices were drenching the both of you and with each thrust, the slapping of wet skin caused an echo to carry across the room.

“I’m gonna come!” You inhaled sharply as your chest heaved for air. Lewis placed a kiss onto the back of your leg.

“Come for me baby. Wanna feel you drench my dick.” His words broke the dam. Your whole body was set ablaze as your orgasm consumed your body as you called out his name in a desperate cry. Lewis dropped his head into the crook of your neck, sucking your skin into his mouth as he fucks you through the climax.

His thrusts became irregular and sloppy until he was moaning against your flesh as he erupted into the condom. You held onto each other as the both of you tried to control your breathing. Your bodies were covered in sweat and the stickiness of your fluids in between your legs.

Your body was still vibrating from the intensity of your orgasm. “I can’t feel my legs.” You mumbled in his ear causing Lewis to chuckle. He turned his head and kissed along your jawline before capturing your lips into a soft kiss.

“Did I hurt you baby?”

“In all of the best ways.” You smiled against his lips. “One of the best orgasms you’ve ever given me.”

“One of many.”

“God, I love you.” You groaned as you wrapped your arms around his neck as he began to move away from the bed and towards the bathroom. He sat you on the counter of the sink as he walked to the bathtub to fill it with water before coming back to you.

He parted your legs and grabbed a wet rag and began wiping you down. “Are you sure I didn’t hurt you baby?” The marks of his touch were beginning to show on your skin and the concern in his tone made you swoon. You placed a hand on his cheek and made him look at you.

“I’m fine baby, I swear. I still feel like you’re holding back on me.” You replied.

“It’s our first time venturing into that type of play. I don’t want to overwhelm you just yet. Things tonight were already intense so we need to be careful about that.”

“Hmmm.” You hummed as your walls clenched around nothing and your nipples began to tighten. “God, I love it when you talk to me like that.”

Lewis smirked down at you before leaning forward and kissing you once more. “I take being a dom very seriously. You’re my girl and I love you so I have to be extra cautious.”

“Are you finally going to make me yours completely?”

“You already are, sweetheart, I don’t need to dominate you to prove that.” He licked his lips before picking you up and walking you to the tub.

“No, but it would be nice.” Your answer caused him to laugh as he settled the both of you in the warm water. Your body was sore in all of the right places and here you were in the arms of the same man who brought you the sinful pleasure and now the most tender affection.

The duality of his love.

ru’s letters 💌: I cannot believe that this was sitting in my drafts for two years. I did some adjustments for it to be a sequel and instead of a prequel. Hope you loved it my angels 😘.

edit: thinking of doing a final part for this where we fully explore Lewis in a full Dom mode. Let me know what you think 🫶🏾

[hamzahsbaby]

OMGG i NEED a comfort/angst fic with Hamzah where the reader (ur regular girl without a big social media) end up breaking down emotionally when a bunch of hamzah’s fan girls start to either get personal with there hate comments on u or reveal personal information. Hamzah ends up comforting u and reassuring his love, leading u two to either take to the podcast or their bts on patreon in order to address it and hopefully create boundaries 🙏🙏 just know you’d eat this up

warnings: possible cringe warning … not sure … something takes over when i write angst and i can’t ever tell if my work is good or not …. but enjoy yay!

the comments didn’t bother you at first, you told yourself you could handle it, and you really could, at first. but now it was all too much; screenshots of your personal instagram had somehow gotten out, video upon video tearing apart you and your looks, people somehow finding your family, the list went on and felt like it never ended. strangers on the internet picking apart your life, thinking that just because you were dating someone in the public eye meant that you didn’t have a right to any privacy.

you’d been laying in bed all day, the only comfort you had was hamzah’s hoodie embracing you and hamzah’s hourly check in on you, he wanted to sit next to you and listen to whatever it was that was bothering you but you wouldn’t let him. he was upset, but more sad than anything, sad that you felt like you couldn’t tell him what was going on. although he had a pretty good idea, he wanted to hear it from you.

“alright,” hamzah sat next to you on the bed, you peered your head out from the hoodie you were wearing. hamzah looked so perfect, too perfect for someone like you. “you’ve gotta talk to me baby.” he rubbed your ribs, his touch immediately bringing you comfort.

you shook your head, tears forming in your eyes. trying to vocalize the negative feelings you were experiencing always made you cry. “i just,” you spit out, sitting up in hamzah’s bed, his hand stayed put on you. “i can’t do this anymore. i’m sorry.” you cried.

“what’re you sorry for babygirl?” hamzah wiped the tears falling down your face. the nickname he gave you making you want to fall into pieces, but also giving you some sense of reassurance. “i love you.” hamzah hugged you, you didn’t have to say anything but it’s like he knew exactly what you needed to hear. “so fucking much. you know that right?” he grabbed your face, looking you in the eyes when he said it, he needed you to know it. “you are my perfect girl.” your frown turned into a grin. hamzah knew it wasn’t the right time but god there wasn’t a single time you looked bad. you were literally day two without showing, red puffy face, wet eyelashes, and a rats nest for hair but you still looked like something out of a dream— soft, raw and beautiful.

“i love you.” you trembled. your lips shook as the words left your mouth. you were so fucking grateful for someone like hamzah, and even on the days you felt like you didn’t deserve him, he was there to tell you that you deserved him and so much more. “i don’t care what anyone says about you, or about us.” he reassured for the third time tonight, “you’re the one i want to be with.” hamzah pulled you in again. “forever.” tears forming in his eyes as he thought about how you wouldn’t have to go through this if it weren’t for him.

. 𖥔 ♡ ݁ ˖

after a few days of calming down and you and hamzah being able to have an actual conversation, he invited you to the podcast to speak your peace, and although you didn’t have much to say you accepted his request.

and when it came to discussing the boundaries you two were putting up the viewers, you swore you’ve never seen him so serious and upset on camera before. he really didn’t play about you and he needed the world to know it. “you guys act like if she weren’t here that you’d be next in line or something.” hamzah babbled into the mic, essentially going on a 10 minute tangent about how you’re just that girl, his girl.

you and martin awkwardly listened as hamzah kept boasting about you and putting down the losers who thought it was okay to ruin your privacy. “okay hamzah,” you cut him off. “i think they get it.” you giggled.

“just making sure there’s no room for confusion.”

[bratbby333]

I got some thoughts 👀 can I request a little something? like reader finds herself in a situation where a guy is disrespectful to her and Geto steps in to defend her... she would be so relieved like 'thank you so much tall and beautiful stranger' 😍🥰 and he's probably like 'don't worry about it, it's whatever' but in the end he offers to walk her home and he fucks her against the wall things happen 😳😳

`⭐︎ ˑ ��ֶָ 𓂃⊹ YOUR GUARDIAN STRANGER ! — feat. suguru geto

word count. 3.6k content warnings. characters are 21+, fem!reader x suguru, mentions of blood, allusions to violence, reader gets hit on and grabbed in the club, alcohol consumption, p in v, unprotected sex, use of pet names, dirty talk, thigh-riding, sugu fucks hard, one night stand, the pull-out method, non-curse!au author notes. thank you for ur ingenious request my sweet nonnie...i hope you enjoy xx not beta read !!

nsfw 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 mdni

A skin-tight dress. Four inch heels. Dark lip liner with a clear gloss on top. A few spritzes of Chanel No. 5, and you are out the door and heading to the club.

Everything is great; good vibes, strong drinks, pounding 808s reverberating off the walls. The liquor warms your stomach as your hips sway to the music, your over-worked body relaxing with every bump of the heavy bass. You take in the scene around you; drunk couples making out in the corner, a few underage kids getting thrown out, a group of friends arguing over god knows what– it’s all very entertaining. You laugh to yourself, your eyes scanning the room once more before your vision settles on the one thing you were trying to avoid. Shit. Your heart drops. Really? Did he not catch the hint the last two times? You sigh deeply, rolling your eyes as you prepare yourself for the inevitable. Not this again.

Because, of course, all good things must come to an end. 

You're used to being hit on. But tonight, there is one guy in particular, unrelenting in his attempts to get close to you. He's shorter than average, the two of you being the same height when you're in heels. He reeks of liquor, cigarettes, and BO. His fringe clings to his forehead as he approaches you for the third time this evening, a disgusting smirk plastered across his face. He seems to have mistaken your accidental eye contact as an invitation to test his luck once more. With tense shoulders and an apprehensive tone, you offer him polite conversation. Not that you want to, but god forbid you reject him in just the right way to make him snap. You don't want to end up being a headline. Your eyes dart elsewhere, knowing damn well that if you look at him for too long you might gag. He is truly disgusting, rambling on and on about his podcast and his most recent bouts of buying and trading crypto. 

It's a tough situation to navigate. You're out alone. Granted, you are at a club that you're comfortable in; you're familiar with the layout, you're friends with a few of the waitresses and bartenders. The DJ knows you by name. But, you're still riding solo in a loud, rambunctious environment. Even though there is a level of comfort here, it's still a club filled with drunkards at the end of the day. 

With a fake smile and a couple nods of your head, you try to ignore the part of the conversation where he referred to himself as an “alpha male” as you accept the drink he presents to you, kindly excusing yourself before disappearing into the crowd once more.

A shudder runs down your spine, your body quite literally trying to shake away that awful conversation. God, he’s the worst. On your way to the dance floor, you pour the contents of the cup into the soil of a potted plant. He doesn't think you're stupid, does he? There is no way in hell you're drinking that shit.

You're dancing alone, enjoying the house mix that's bumping through the giant speakers, the colorful spotlights that bounce around your face as you feel yourself begin to relax once more. Finally, some much needed alone time. All you want is to let loose after an arduous week of working. Can't a girl have some peace?

"C'mon...just give me a chance." You don't even have to turn around to see who it is, you can smell him. Your nose scrunches up before you turn to face him, another fake smile pulling at your cheeks as you speak to him for the fourth time tonight. 

"I'm sorry, but I'm just not looking for anythin'...I'm just tryna have fun," you say politely, before beginning to walk away. If you just keep moving through the crowd, he won't be able to find you again. But this guy is annoyingly determined and obnoxiously entitled, because after one step away from him, his hand grabs at your wrist, "We can have fun! C'mon...seriously?! I bought you a drink and this is how you treat me?"

As soon as the contact is made, your blood boils. Rage runs through your body as you spin around to chew him out for A, assuming some smelly asshole like him has a chance with you; B, for even thinking he could touch you, and C, the absolute nerve of this man to actually follow through with it. 

But when you turn, you realize you can't see him anymore. Your eye line is obstructed by a broad, muscular back. Utterly confused, you step to the side in order to fully see what the hell is going on. The sweaty hand that was once wrapped around your forearm is now gripped by a large fist. Your eyes trail up to your savior, a damningly handsome man with jet-black hair. 

"Do we have a problem?" a stern voice addresses the musty, shorter guy. 

"Yeah, this chick's been flirting with me all night...I'm tryna get what I'm owed," he spits back, attempting to pull his wrist away, "Dude, let go...stop bein' a cockblock." The mystery man's face twists at the other's bold choice in words. You're shocked that he doesn't feel intimidated at all. 

"What you're owed?" A deep chuckle emerges from the unknown’s chest as he stares down at him. "I dunno...it seems like she wants nothing to do with you," he muses, tightening his grip around the other’s arm. 

He turns to address you, and you finally get to take a good look at him. His side-profile is god-like, but looking at him straight on is a whole different realm of attractiveness. The man's fucking gorgeous. You're too busy ogling him that you miss his question all together. 

"S-sorry...what did you say?" You shake your head a bit, adrenaline pumping through your ears from this entire ordeal, the expensive scent of his cologne mixing with the pounding bass of the club; it's all making your head spin. 

He laughs and leans down to your level, his head hovering just next to your ear. "You want me to get rid of him for ya?" he repeats, his breath brushing against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. He pulls back, looking down at you with his grip still tight around the other guy's arm. The pathetic man is squirming as the two of you share quite the intimate eye contact. You nod, your mouth dropping open as he drags him out of the club immediately. 

You let out a deep sigh before making your way to the bathroom. You lather up your hands with soap and do your best to scrub away the feeling of that man's skin on yours. Leaning up against the sink, you take a few deep breaths before fixing your hair and reapplying your lipgloss. That man is vile, but you're not going to let that gross interaction ruin your night. 

You make your way to the bar, keeping your head on a swivel in hopes to see your handsome rescuer once more, wanting to thank him for handling that for you. You pout a bit as you fail to see him on your trek, sighing as you place your order with the bartender. 

You take a few sips before turning to walk back toward the dance floor, when you literally run straight into someone. "Fuck! I am so sorry, I-" but then you smell it, the same entrancing cologne as before. You look up and are met with a devious grin on the most angelic face you've ever seen. You smile, pushing your hair from your eyes, "I was looking for you." You sound relieved as the two of you stare at one another. 

"Were you now?" he asks coyly, shifting his weight as he smirks down at you. You nod shyly, "Mhm...I-I wanted to thank you for earlier," you take another sip of your cocktail, hoping it will calm your nerves a bit, "I appreciate you stepping in, that guy couldn't catcha fuckin' hint," you laugh, looking away. 

"Don't mention it. It's the least I could do," he responds. "I'm Suguru, by the way."

Turning to face him once more, you tell him your name with a kind smile. As the two of you make small talk, you notice his chest is heaving a bit, and with a quirk of your brow, you run your eyes down his body, realizing that his knuckles are bruised and slightly bloody.

"Oh...oh my god. Are you alright?" you ask, grabbing his hand. You bring his fist up to inspect it, the dim lights of the club not offering you much assistance. "Oh, yeah," he laughs, rotating his wrist so you can examine it further, "the blood's not mine," he grins. A laugh escapes you as you gaze up at him, still holding his hand in yours. 

"Damn...you really did a number on him, huh?" Suguru laughs at this.

"Absolutely, he deserved it. Dude was a prick. I'm really sorry that happened to you," he sympathizes, watching as you grab napkins and a shot of vodka from the bar to wipe off the dried blood from his knuckles. 

"It's alright, I'm used to it by now, but having someone step in and save me was definitely a first." He releases a jagged exhale as you pour the liquor over the small abrasions on his hand, "Sorry...gotta disinfect you. That dude was gross...I had to go scrub my arm off after he touched me," you giggle. He watches intently as you finish cleaning him up, his heart skipping a beat as you smile up at him triumphantly. You are quite the woman, cunning and confident. He likes that. 

"There ya go," you chirp, before tossing the reddened napkins into the garbage can located nearby. His eyes run across your face and up and down your body, taking in every part of you. Poor thing. Though you seem so unbothered by that whole situation, there is a telling look behind your eyes, and Suguru notes that you are still a little shaken up. He would be crazy to let you wander back out there alone. 

"Do you want to come hang with my friends? I promise they won't pester you like that dude did," he offers. He nods toward the booths that line the wall. "That's them over there; Shoko and Satoru." You follow his eye line, seeing a brunette woman accompanied by a blue-eyed man. They seem to be about your age, and you love meeting new people. You smile and agree, thanking him once more as the two of you make your way over to the table. 

The rest of your night is spent laughing and dancing with the three of them. You learn that they all work for the high school across town, and that Shoko can really handle her liquor; Satoru cannot. You and Suguru are in your own world, chatting about everything and nothing, taking breaks to dance together when a good song comes on. His hands rest on your waist as you move your hips against him, your bodies fitting like you are made for one another. Suguru, being the gentleman he is, never pushes any further than that, allowing you to initiate the contact. 

It's 2 AM when the four of you stumble out of the club, the tall blond leaning on his smaller friend's shoulders as she guides him toward the taxi. It's quite the amusing sight. 

You stop short of the curb, wishing Satoru and Shoko a good night, before turning to Suguru. "Thank you again…for everything," you say, your voice raspier than usual from all the shouting you did inside the loud club. 

"Of course. I'm just glad we got to spend some more time together," he says with a smile, ushering you toward the taxi. He's confused when you shake your head. 

"I live like three blocks from here, I'm just gonna walk," you state. "It was really nice meeting you, you were great company," you smirk, heading down the road, your heels clacking against the pavement with every step. 

A few unintelligible words are exchanged between Suguru and the taxi driver, followed by a car door slamming shut, before the sound of someone jogging catches up to you. 

"You're crazy if you think I'm gonna let you walk home alone," he retorts, pushing you toward the inside of the sidewalk as he walks closest to the cars that pass by. 

"You're quite the gentleman, aren't you," you tease, pushing your shoulder into his. He chuckles, "Can you blame me? I see a beautiful woman in distress, I have to jump in." You blush at his compliment.

"My knight in...," you pause as you run your eyes down his body, "...jeans and a black tee," you giggle. After sharing a few laughs, silence settles between the two of you as the cool air swirls around you. The occasional car passes by, but other than that, it's a quiet evening. 

You glance at Suguru through your peripherals, enjoying the way his layered hair bounces with every step he takes. His cologne, though more subtle now, still wafts toward your nose. He really is beautiful. You wonder if it'd be too bold to see if he wants to continue your evening. 

You walk toward the door to your apartment, turning to face him. It's now or never. 

"You comin'?" You ask with a raise of your brow. He chuckles as he climbs the stairs, joining you by your side, "Thought you'd never ask."

You have never been into one night stands, but something about Suguru is irresistible. Whether it's because he saved you from that creep or because he is super fucking sexy, you know you need him. Now. The two of you barely made it through the doorway as you’re pushing him up against the wall of your foyer, your lips immediately finding his.

He's taken aback by your boldness, taking a second to register his surroundings before quickly flipping the two of you around, his hands cupping either side of your face as his knee wedges between your legs. His muscular thigh is pressed directly onto your core, the pressure sending waves through your body.

“Couldn’t even make it to the bed, huh?” he husks into your ear, placing a wet kiss on the sensitive skin below, nipping and sucking at it. Soft moans echo through the hallway as Suguru finds your lips once more, your tongues battling one another. You thrust your hips, rubbing your warmth against his leg. “Eager, are we?” he teases, lifting his leg more. 

“Mmm…mhm,” you gasp as the contact intensifies. You’re already addicted to him, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside you. You grind your hips harder, pressing your drenched cunt firmly against his clothed thigh, certain that he can feel your pussy throbbing against him, the tightness in your stomach intensifying. Your cheeks fluster at how quickly he’s getting you to your breaking point without even having to do anything.

He breaks the kiss, watching intently as your hips gyrate against him. “Shit…are you gonna cum?” The tone of his voice is taunting, yet laced with desire. The sight of you using him to get off has him rock hard. You blush immediately, tilting your head away from him. You nod shyly, though your hips continue their pattern. “So fuckin’ hot,” his hand wraps around your throat, your head tilting to rest against the wall. “Uh uh, don’t get shy now…look at me.” Through low lids, you meet his gaze. His lower lip is between his teeth as he glances between your face and your cunt rubbing against his thigh. With a desperate whimper, you pick up the pace. “C’mon…that’s it–cum for me,” he growls, entranced by the fluid motion of your body. You come undone just a few minutes later with a whine and a few moans of his name. Your cum soaks through your panties and a guttural moan breaks through his chest as he watches you finish. “Fuckin’ drenchin’ me already, huh?” You blush profusely, your eyes screwed tight as embarrassment courses through you.

You yelp as he flips you around, your chest now pressed against the wall, your legs parallel with your shoulders. “All that cum ‘n I wasn’t even inside you yet…” He unbuckles his belt, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to free his throbbing erection, “...can’t wait to see how much you cream on my cock.” You whimper at the filthy words that shamelessly fall from Suguru’s lips as he pulls your dress up and drags your panties down your legs. You aren’t much help, small pants leaving your chest as your body recovers from your unexpectedly intense orgasm.  His lips part as he teases his thick tip along your slit, lubing himself with your cum. “You ready, doll?” His head shallowly dips in and out of your needy cunt, already loving the way you stretch for him. You hum, nodding profusely as you look over your shoulder. “Mm. Mhm…p-please fuck me,” you beg. Your words feel foreign to you as you say them, unsure of where all this submissiveness was coming from. But Suguru’s effortlessly domineering aura makes you want to bend to his every whim, to please him in any way that you can. 

Inch by inch, he’s delving into you. The warmth of your dribbling cunt sucking him, the squelching sounds ricocheting through his head, the sinful moans that break through your throat–it drives him wild. He growls as your back arches, pushing him even deeper. Your ass flush against his lower abdomen, your eyes blowing wide at the damning stretch of his full length nestled deep inside you.

He stays still for a moment, allowing you time to accommodate as your gushy walls flutter around him. The pace starts slow, but Suguru’s patience wears thin, and after a few strokes he’s ramming into you, one hand wrapped around the front of your throat, the other pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he bounces you on his cock. The scratches that should be left on the tanned flesh of his toned back are being dragged down your beige walls, your breasts rubbing against the cold plaster with every rough thrust of his hips, the sensation stimulating your budding nipples. 

Every bump of his hips pushes his head into your sweet spot, his length caressing every part of you with ease. “Takin’ me so well,” he grunts as he rams into your furthest wall. You can’t suppress the cock-drunk whines that spill from you, your eyes welling with tears while delirious pleasure claws its way through your body, your tummy tightening as you clench around him. Your shoulders tense as your perch on your tiptoes, opening yourself up to take more of him–if that is even possible–praying he finds refuge within your womb. “Shit–” he hisses, his words nearly incoherent as the sound of skin against skin echoes through the hallway, “fuckin’ milkin’ me, doll.”

He releases your throat, the same hand trailing down your spine before his arm snakes around you, his nimble fingers strumming delicious circles against your throbbing clit. You cry out, eyes screwing shut as your legs shake. “Fuck…oh fuuuck–ahh! Gonna…’m gonna…” Your voice trails off, any semblance of a coherent thought cast to the wayside as a deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. Suguru leans down, kissing behind your ear before biting at your lobe. “I know,” he muses, his fingers work even faster against you, “Squeezin’ me s’tight…”, his hips shifting to push himself even deeper, “...C’mon. Make a mess ‘f me.” You reach your breaking point once more, lips parting as squirt spills out around his cock and dribbles down your thighs. 

His release follows suit with a few raspy swears and sultry mumbles of your name. He pulls out, working his fist around his cock, his hot seed shooting onto your ass and lower back. Suguru places soft pecks along your neck and shoulders, working to regain his breath. He catches you as he untangles his body from yours, chuckling at the evident exhaustion of your body while your knees buckle, unable to support your own body weight as you lean against the wall. 

After tucking himself away and a speedy rebuckle of his belt, he scoops you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style to your bed, setting you down on your plush duvet. 

“Bathroom?” he asks. Your brows furrow before you comprehend his question, still dazed from the spell he cast on you. With a weak flick of your wrist, you gesture toward the closed door to your left. You watch with tired eyes as he returns with a damp rag, his soft touches along your weary body juxtaposing the meanness of his strokes as he mindfully cleans you up. With a quick kiss on your cheek and a soft mumble of “you were wonderful” into your ear, he smiles down at you before beginning to exit the bedroom. It’s crazy–insane, even–how much you want him around. You must be out of your mind…this near stranger—the fact that you even let him in your house is wild, let alone asking him to stay the night? But you want him to, so bad. There’s just something about him.

You sit upright, ignoring the ache in your lower back and the morality of your choices, your question flying from your lips before your brain can stop it. “Wait…can you stay?” Your words are soft as they drift through the air. He stops just short of the door, before turning and offering you a knowing smile, “I thought you’d never ask.”

author notes. certified sugu glazer…what can i say. i just cannot get enough of him ugh.

i’m still workin thru all my requests, i appreciate yalls patience w me 🤍

my reqs are closed atm, but thirsts + chats are welcome! come say hello ☺️

tag list: @admirxation @sadmonke @the-weeb-of-the-uchiha @call-memissbrightside (lmk if u want to be removed from tags🤍)

©bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[stonedficz]

✰ star shaped ✰ ch. 3 ❛is what i know true?❜

[schlatt x streamer!reader]

ch. 1 / ch. 2 / ch. 4

a/n: this is mostly revised. if you see something - it’s more than likely intentional. like and comment! luv u all! eat up bbs, momma made DINNERRR

You were both up all night.

You were planning. Podcast ideas, videos, scripts, guidelines, blog posts - everything. You planned to make the best of the opportunity you were offered with your favorite person, your crush, your everything. You had so many feelings about him. Parasocial love, deep admiration, all of it. You were obsessed. He was a star.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you.

He didn’t know why. His feelings swirled in his chest, making their way down to his stomach. He played with the hem of his shirt for hours as he sat at his desk, catching up with b-t-s work for things like GamerSupps, his pc company, and his channels. He almost felt anxious. Anxious? Him? Sometimes, but rarely. His stomach twisted in a knot the more the thought of you came into his mind.

“The fuck is wrong with me,” he breathed out heavily, glancing down.

2:00 am

“Shit.” He leaned back in his desk chair. “I’m hungry as fuck, I don’t know why I’m still up, AND I can’t do shit till tomorrow because everything’s fucking closed.”

riiiiiiiiing, riiiiiiiiing, riiiiiiiiing

click

“Ted?”

“Yea bud, what’s up? Everything alright? You never call this late. Hell, you barely call.” Ted tiredly chuckled through the phone.

“Look, iii don’t know man, somethin’ just…” he sighed in confusion, holding his forehead with one hand.

“Genuinely, Schlatt, are you okay? Like do I need to call someone or is this just.. stress?”

“No man, I’m fine. Fuck. I just, did something and I’m not stressed I’m just - God, I don’t even fucking know. I think I’m just hungry. I didn’t do anything BAD, I just, y’know, made a choice and now I’m unsure, I guess.” He sighed, leaning back into his chair.

“As long as everything’s fine, then okay. Go get some grub man. Maybe smoke some weed, if you want. If only you were in LA...” Ted’s voice gradually raised in playful pitch till Schlatt interrupted,

“Alright, fuck you.” He chuckled.

click.

That was how most of their calls went. He got up and towards the kitchen, setting his phone down to grab some leftovers to heat for a late dinner. He looked back down at his phone while his food was in the microwave.

"shit." he ran his hand over his face, hearing the microwave beep. His eyes were locked onto his phone. "What is it with me tonight?" he spun around to open the microwave door and retrieve his dinner, when all of a sudden, he heard a

ding.

His eyes darted to his phone. Who could it be? He didn't have notifications on for anything but friends, and everyone he knew was asleep, or busy.

His eyes squinted.

From here (the microwave) he could see an icon on the notification. Instagram. Now, who would be messaging him at this hou-

He saw the username.

-

cookkizkill

hey! sorry for sending this message so late, but I got the pod map together. just a bunch of ideas. i'd like your thoughts on them when you get the chance! let me know if you'd be avaliable to call sometime tomorrow (really, today, since it's .. the morning)

-

He hesitated.

He shouldn't reply now. It was unprofessional. It would make him look bad. Well, maybe not bad, but weird. He shouldn't reply this fast to someone he didn't know.

But he felt like he knew her. Six months of reading messages, having one sided conversations through donos, and watching her youtube videos - it all added up to a perceived feeling of knowing.

"Oh God." he looked down at Jambo in defeat. "I'm a parasocial freak, aren't I, Jambo? Am I just like her?"

"Mow."

"Fuck you too, you little shit." he sighed heavily and picked up his phone.

There was no use in hesitating. If bad things were to happen, they'd happen no matter what they did. The same for good things. His small actions - so long as they were well-meaning - truly were just that. Well-meaning. He had nothing to lose. God only knows he WAS the uncancellable man of youtube, anyways.

-

cookkizkill

i also wanted to say thank you. i don't want to run you off with any sentiments, but I genuinely appreciate you offering to do a collab with me.

something like this both means the world to me, and has the chance to change my life. I've been watching you for a long time - to have an opportunity like this - something like you were given, makes me really happy and proud of myself. im super excited to get to do this pod!

jschlatt

i appreciate that. You're a sweet kid. We can call in the morning, go ahead and add me on discord @.jschlatt and we'll get to talking. I'll be ready to discuss everything by 11. My lawyer got the papers back from you so everything is good to go.

-

He could go to sleep now. He was okay. Whatever he felt earlier had mostly dissipated.

You blacked out after reading that text. Literally, from exhaustion and shock, your nervous system just powered down and helped you out. You had been laying in bed thinking about him, this, and all your feelings for hours. Hours. You hadn’t eaten dinner, you were losing your mind, and the worst of it was, you didn’t even take a shower. You were gonna be so pissed when you woke up. Oh, no, you weren’t. You were gonna call Schlatt. How could anything upset you?

Schlatt ate his leftovers and went on with his night, very quickly falling asleep after finally eating.

Eleven a.m. couldn’t come any faster.

-

You were ready by 9. Dolled up, dressed to the nine, perfectly calculated with notes, thoughts, and words (as well as some fan questions teehee), sweating in anticipation of meeting your favorite person - your role model, etc. You couldn’t imagine what this would be like. You got prettied up just in case it was a video call, but you figured knowing him, it would be audio only. Knowing him..

Did you?

Who’s to say he’s never been true to himself online. Maybe, even theweeklyslap project was simply to provide an alibi. He could be fake. You could be getting scammed. God, that would hurt. You’d drop out if this was fake. In fact you’d probably do meth, if this turned out to be fake. It would rip you apart.

You wished he would rip you apart. If you could even get into the same area code as him, it might satisfy you. There was a growl deep inside of you that wanted him. Not particularly sexually, either, but something that ached. You were desperate. Humiliatingly so.

You didn’t know what it was. His hands? Arms? Shoulders? Posture? Face? Whole body? Irresistible personality? Maybe it was because he acted like a douchebag. You liked douchebags, based off all your ex-boyfriends. Maybe he was as sweet as condensed milk, and he just didn’t show it.

Maybe he was what you wanted. Maybe he wasn’t. You didn’t know - nor did you care. The clock struck eleven, and you saw his user come online. You called at 11:00:30. Thirty seconds past eleven, so as to not be overtly early.

He probably didn’t notice.

He did.

“hiiii!” you exclaimed happily, and sweetly.

“Hello, hello. How’s it going this morning?” he chuckled sweetly. He had a gamersupps shaker in hand. On brand.

(Yeah, he had no clue you were recording this whole conversation. Teehee.)

“It’s so good! I’m so excited! This is an amazing experience, being able to discuss a collaboration with my role model. How is your morning? Have anything good to eat?” your heart was pounding out of your chest. Your hands wrung themselves under the desk you sat at.

“Well, you’re one for small talk, huh sweetheart?” he smiled and chucked. “I had some eggs. They were pretty good. Seasoned ‘em well too. What about you?”

‘oh my god’ you bit your lip as you nodded and ‘mhm’d’, though he couldn’t see you. ‘he’s so.. UGH.’ your stomach flooded with butterflies. It’s everything you hoped it would be, in these first 4 sentences. That is, meeting him.

“Ah, you know me - too busy grinding to eat. I just had a snack.” you smiled and laughed, opening up your notes. You were shaking. Vigorously. Something about this - what was it? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

Was he flirting?

No, never. That’s not like him.

Well…

“Take it from me, good meals fuel the soul. You need ‘em to make good content.” he sighed. “Now- why don’t you hit me with your ideas here? Whatcha thinkin’?” he purred slightly. He genuinely sounded excited to talk about this proposed podcast ep.

‘oh my god. his voice.’ you groaned in your mind. This was almost painful. You were given exactly what you wanted, unfortunately. You got your cake.

Now you can’t eat it.

“So - here’s my thoughts.” your voice shook. Oh, God, were you going to reveal your hand? How nervous you were?

“I’m thinking we do a cooking episode. Y’know, how you guys did those video podcasts? But the kicker - we’re at our own places trying to cook the same recipe, seeing who can get it closest to the original picture, and or taste.” your voice continued to shake. The look on your face was, needless to say, scared. You were so nervous. The performance anxiety got to your bones - terminal. You felt like you were drowning in emotion. You could scream, cry, shake vehemently, all the big things.

Well, at least your camera wasn’t on.

“Ooh. Okay, okay. I like the idea so far - Jambo, fuckin’ stop - shit, hold on.” you heard him rustling. “Look at this fucker.”

He turned his camera on.

He held jambo to his chest and face. Your jaw dropped, and your eyes shot open. You were SO screen recording this. Quickly, however, you collected yourself and turned yours on too, snatching your own cat from beside your chair so fast he almost got whiplash.

“OH MY GOOOOODDDDDDD!” you screeched. “I love Jambo!” you shot your head back while you held Jeremy (the cat) on your chest. “I love your cats.”

The next words to leave your mouth would be life or death.

“You like my pussy?” you chuckled, rotating the chair enough for Jeremy’s dumb face to be visible in the camera. This was a terrible, terrible joke to make during your first impression.

His eyes went wide for a split second. Involuntary. You caught it.

He hoped you hadn’t.

He shut his eyes, tipped his head, and jutted out his lower lip in appreciation for the bit. Jambo head butted him.

“Dumb fuck, that wasn’t meant for you.” he scoffed, putting Jambo down. “Anyways, I do like the idea. I think that would be good for my first cameo on your channel - y’know, just to tease the people.” he tipped his head to the side in thought out approval and nodded.

“I appreciate that!” you smiled with your whole face, breathlessly.

‘wait.

first cameo? FIRST? FIRST? WHAT THE HELL DOES HE MEAN FIRST?!’

“You know I gotta ask, though -“ your breath hitched. You couldn’t breathe. You coughed impulsively to try and make yourself have the strength to speak. “What do you mean by ‘first cameo’?” your lips twitched into a small, knowing smile. God, he was easy to read sometimes. You knew him too well parasocially.

“Oh, you know what I mean sweetheart. Don’t play dumb.” He furrowed his brow and looked directly at the image of you on his screen with a small smile, “Your fans - even if there isn’t a million of them - all know you love me. How insane would it be for you to show them you know me? Either way, I’m down to collab more because I have an appreciation for what you do. You stay true to yourself, it’s something to respect.” one hand rubbed his obviously freshly trimmed chops.

‘did he shave to call me? was his plan all along to show his face?

did he want to see mine?’

You were silent. Awestruck. Breathless. All of it. How were you SUPPOSED to react?

“Schlatt, how did you feel - “ you choked slightly. “- how did you feel when you met your idol, Mr. Sark?”

“Like I was gonna shit my pants. Why? Did you shit yours?” he chuckled, taking a sip. He smiled slightly deviously.

“Yeah. It’s all over the floor. Actually, I shit so much that my cat drowned. You didn’t notice, but, earlier he jumped off my lap and fell right into it like it was quicksand. Gone forever.”

He chuckled breathlessly for just a few moments. “What the fuck are you even going on about?” His brows furrowed again as he continued to laugh for, like, no reason.

“You’re fuckin’ stupid. I think we’re gonna get along.”

“I’m glad you feel that way. and YES, I almost did piss myself. This is all just - I don’t know, it’s cool! This is my dream, getting to meet you. It’s insane to me that I was granted this INSANE wish. I feel like I don’t deserve it.”

“Maybe you don’t.” he sighed. “Maybe you’ll never blow up, or get any semblance of a fan base -“ his words rolled of his tongue. He smacked his lips. “but, the opportunity is here. Are you gonna take it? Or are you going to revel in this idea; concept, even, that you just don’t deserve it?

Make the best of it. If this doesn’t help you out, at least you met your ‘idol’, and gained an acquaintance.” he raised his brows as he looked closer to the floor in thought, pursing his lips.

He’s said this before.

To who? He wasn’t the sentimental type, from what you could tell. Not for a stranger.

Is some of this what he told himself all those years ago? When he first blew up?

“You give some good advice. I feel like I’m on theweeklyslap. This is, well, an honor.” you smiled sweetly. The more you talked to him, the more calm you got. You were still excited, but something about him told you that you were safe. “Let’s plan to do this next week? Next Wednesday, if you’re free?”

“You call, and I’ll be ready, toots.” he nodded his head with his brows furrowed in serious sentiment.

He let a small smile crawl onto his face. You knew he was looking at you again.

Your eyes squinted as you smiled in intrigued confusion. “Perfect. I’ll call Wednesday. I’ll send all the nitty gritty details over so you can be really ready.” you nodded back, an even more confused, and apprehensively happy smile spreading across your face.

“See you then sweetheart.”

Click.

[stuckysbike]

Moonlight Kisses

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Angst, unrequited?feelings. Fluff.

Summary: You’ve fallen in love, but he wants someone else, and it’s you he’s asking for advice!

It was a cold December Friday night when you realised you were in love with Bucky Barnes.

Natasha had ushered you out of your solitude and over to her private apartment on the compound. Steve was already there, along with Sam, Joaquin, Yelana, a few from the medical team and a few mechanics.

The place was decorated for winter, with playful snowmen and fuzzy christmas trees stacked in the corners. Everyone got comfortable on the big couch and music played in the background whilst you snacked on festive foods and sipped seasonal alcoholic drinks.

Bucky had been telling a story, his face lit up and his big hands flying everywhere as he described his mom chasing him with a broom during his teenage years after a stray snowball missed its target and landed on her. Occasionally his eyes met yours and they sparkled with mischief, but you figured he was like that with everyone.

You’d been crushing on him since you arrived in January and he was first to greet you. He seemed fascinated by your job, research and data analyst, but it was ultimately boring to almost everyone but you.

You lunched together sometimes and you swapped books every few weeks. You even got him into podcasts and you were always swapping recommendations.

But tonight he looked happy, relaxed even, and when Natasha dropped her dainty feet into his lap you felt the world skip underneath you, you wanted to put your feet in his lap. You wanted his big hands dwarfing your feet.

He rubbed her toes without thinking, and she snuggled down as the mechanics started describing the prank they’d played on Tony this week, going so far as to rope Pepper in. Bucky was listening intently, laughing along with them but his hands never stopped moving. It was obvious they were intimate with each other from the tiny looks and touched they shared.

You couldn’t understand why your heart suddenly ached, and then it hit you like a train. You were jealous, more than jealous, the revelation of their relationship hurt.

“Wanna stay here tonight?” You heard Natasha murmur to Bucky during a lull in conversation. Yelana was changing the music and Joaquin was setting up tequila shots.

He smiled at her but shook his head. “Nah,” his voice was thick with tiredness.

“You finally made a move on that girl?” She teased wiggling in her spot.

Bucky’s cheeks tinged pink and you dropped your eyes when you realised you were staring. You didn’t want to be caught looking like some dumb kid. You studied your hands but your head was swimming with this sudden realisation.

It was foolish to think that Bucky with his wonderful abilities and handsome looks would be interested in you who spent most of your time at work or alone. Bucky had been to hell and back, he deserved someone gorgeous who could distract him from reality

“Think I’m gonna’ take her out, yeah,” he nodded. You snuck a glance at him in time to catch him looking from you to Natasha.

Oh god, he must have noticed you staring. How embarrassing!

Tears that had no right to form in your eyes were there anyway and you stood suddenly distracting Steve who was kneeling at the coffee table next to you. Sam took the opportunity to defeat him in their thumb war game much to Steve’s annoyance.

“I’m going to head back, I’m just really tired,” you said to the room, avoiding Bucky and trying to look above Natasha’s head. “Thank you for the invitation Natasha.”

There were a few comments asking you to stay but ultimately everyone wished you a good sleep. Your own room was a fifteen minute walk away in a shared block and you pulled your arms around yourself to fight the cold as you stepped outside. You wished you brought more than a hoodie to keep you warm.

You looked up into the sky and focused on the moon and sucked a deep breath of cold air deep into your lungs. It grounded you so you did it again.

“Hey Doll,” Bucky called startling you. You hadn’t noticed him leaving behind you but he was closer than you expected.

“Bucky, hi,” you frowned.

“Thought I’d walk you back,” he said falling into step with you. “And I wanted your advice.”

“Oh?”

“So there’s this girl I like. She’s not like the others, she’s not really - she’s different. And I really want to make a date special for her, you know?” He glanced as you, letting his arm bump yours as you walked.

“I do,” you sighed resigning yourself to your fate. You didn’t want to have this conversation but you didn’t want to not help him either. He was your friend after all and despite your feelings you would be there for him no matter what.

“So I’ve had a few first date ideas, but I’m thinking farmers market then making brunch together? I started this really great podcast and I was thinking we could listen together as we cook then talk about it while we eat? Then after we could go to a museum or something?” Bucky licked his lips and stopped turning to look at you.

You didn’t want him to share a podcast with her. That was your thing with him. You knew you were being unfair, childish even but right now you didn’t care. His deep blue eyes searched your face. He looked so vulnerable in that moment.

“That sounds lovely,” you said. And it did, you wished you were that girl, you wished Bucky wanted to go to all that trouble for you but instead you’d have to sit home alone tomorrow whilst he woo’d someone else. You hoped it would be a long time before you were forced to meet her.

“Yeah?” He asked excitedly. “I really just wanna’ hold her hand, at the market, in the museum, I just crave that feeling you know, like this,” Bucky reached for your hand and laced your fingers together, holding your joined hands up to inspect. “It’s been a long time since I held a girls hand like this.”

“I-I’m sure it has Buck,” you swallowed. His hand dwarfed yours and his heat easily crept onto your skin. His thumb caressed your knuckles and your breath hitched but Bucky didn’t seem to notice.

He resumed walking and you could do nothing but join him, he still had your hand in his. He described his outfit for his date and wondered if you had a cosy chunky sweater.

“I do, it’s so comfortable,” you said softly. You couldn’t hide the disappointment as you slowed in front of the doors. “It’s my favourite colour too.”

“Will you wear it tomorrow?” Bucky tilted his head to the side.

“Why does it matter what I wear?” You couldn’t help but giggle at his odd request. You couldn’t do it though, thinking of him with someone else whilst you wore what he asked you to.

“I want to know that you’re warm tomorrow. You know, on our date?” Bucky pressed his cool left hand on your cheek as he turned to face you. His kiss was soft, just a sweet brush of the lips and then he pulled away. “I’ll see you at nine thirty?”

“Uh huh,” you nodded dumbly. He kissed you again, and you caught the faint taste of whiskey on his lips. He was warm as he pressed into you and you let your hands slide up his chest to his shoulders.

“See you tomorrow baby girl,” he pressed one last kiss to your forehead then opened the building door for you.

You walked inside in a daze, waving goodbye and drifting up the stairs like you weighed nothing.

You couldn’t remember getting changed into your pj’s, all you knew was that you were snuggled under your duvet setting an alarm for your date with Bucky in the morning.

You smiled, and suddenly your legs kicked and you let out a little squeal. You were going out with Bucky Barnes and he kissed you three times.

You feel asleep to the memory of one hot hand and one cold hand cupping your cheeks as he kissed you in the moonlight.

[abejaenacuarela]

sing us a song you're the piano man sing us a song tonight

.

.

I'm currently on season 4 of malevolent (no spoilers pls) and omgggg. Didn't expect to be so devastated over this podcast.

• do not repost • shares appreciated

Intended for Arthur to be skinnier but let's just say that he uses the suit to hide how weak he actually looks. Also I love him and he's a sweetheart but I can only imagine how terrifying it must be to sit across from him at a bar or something. He "stares" at you for an hour (while John narrates what he sees) every time you do something. And then he answers. Sometimes he just tells you to shut up in the middle of conversation. He implies he's not alone from time to time. He asks you about cults or missing people. As a woman, I would not come near this man. Maybe that's an in-universe explanation for the lack of speaking female characters on malevolent lol.

[cherry-jamm]

Just not him

・❥・ Your situationship doesn’t like that you were seen with another man

・❥・word count: 1.2k

・❥・warnings: Homelander and The Deep (they’re their own warnings), fade to black smut, Homie is a little toxic, supe!reader

・❥・I don't write smut because I'm not good at it, but I'm not good at it because I don't write it, a viscous cycle.

Also sorry if this doesn't make much sense I was in and out of consciousness while writing 😝

"No. No way am I doing that."

"(Y/n), your sexuality is part of your brand. May I remind you your approval rates are going down by the minute." Madelyn sighs.

"Yeah, I get that, but you expect me to go out there and flirt with The Deep? I'd be making a fool of myself." Your cheeks are hot as you try to defend yourself.

"Ah, ah, you'd be making a spectacle, and that's exactly what we need right now. Drama, scandal, rumors."

"And it has to be him?" You deadpanned. "It can't be anyone else? What about Homelander?" You felt yourself becoming desperate.

“Homelander? And you?” A smile breaks out on her face, but she tries to hide it. “I don’t mean any offense, but you two aren’t an ideal pair up.” She talks to you like you’re a child. You fight the urge to tell her that you and Homelander are actually a very good pair. “Anyways, recently you and The Deep have been trending, as a couple.” You scoff.

Recently on a podcast with some man you’re sure is very popular in a different crowd, The Deep confessed that he found you to be the most attractive member of The Seven. Ever since then a burst of videos were posted of cute moments between the two of you, which turned into edits, which turned into fan art, which turned into fanfiction. You fought the urge to gag, who even makes that stuff? From a marketing perspective, it made for great business, a romance angle brought new eyes to the scene. To you, it was demeaning.

“Fine. But I’m not going to take this any further than a few flirtatious remarks at tomorrow’s gala.” You remind yourself it’s not good to anger someone like Madelyn, she’s scarier than she lets on. Madelyn nods and you walk out of her office, much more embarrassed than you were when you entered. As you stormed down the hallway to the safety of your own home, none other than The Deep greeted you.

Speak of the devil and he shall arrive.

“Hey! How are you doing today, cutie?” He starts. He practically salivates as he walks beside you. You feel like you’re gonna be sick.

“I’m not in the mood right now.”

“C’mon, why don’t you let me take you out for a drink or two? We’re supposed to be all over each other tom-“

“Not in the mood!” You cut him off. Your walking increases to practically sprinting until you reach your home. You slam the door shut behind you. You shrugged off your clothes and crawled into bed. No way in hell were you getting out of bed until the last possible minute.

You stood, still as a statue. You wore a deep purple outfit. The silks enveloped your body in a sexy, yet elegant way. You had never felt more bored in your life. The Deep had his hand positioned on your lower back, where it had been all night. You had already talked to everyone important, you made sure the photographers got enough shots of you coquettishly whispering in The Deep’s ear, or leaning on him while being in conversation. You had taken notice to the fact that Homelander had yet to arrive. The gala would be ending soon, and without an appearance from the leader of The Seven himself. His absence further ruined your mood.

You and Homelander were in a bit of a situationship. There was no official label for your relationship. He’d come to your house just to sleep with you one day, then act like you two were strangers the next. You had learned to accept that nothing serious would come from the relationship. But there was still a part of you that wished he had come tonight.

“(Y/n), big smiles.” The Deep reminded. “Why do you look so fucking depressed?” His voice was low enough that it would look like casual banter to any outsider. His hold on the small of your back grew tight.

“Back off and mind your own business.” You said through gritted teeth. You forced a coy smile and blush onto your face as if he had just said something really flustering to you.

“Hey you two!” You felt your brows furrow. Sometime between two minutes ago, when you last scanned the room, and now Homelander had entered, and without you noticing. Your fake smile melted into a real one.

“Homelander.” You greeted. The Deep pulled you in impossibly closer. He didn’t say anything, just nodded. You had a feeling he was scared of Homelander.

“Do you mind if I borrow them?” Homelander asked The Deep. All of you knew it wasn’t a question, just a thinly veiled demand. “You seem to have them chained down.” He laughed, referring to the vice grip currently on your back. After a second the hold was gone, The Deep had already walked off to get himself another drink.

It was just you and Homelander now. He moved close to you to whisper in your ear.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked with a plastic smile. You felt your stomach drop.

“My job.” You shot back with an equally fake smile. You watched as his cheeks turned red with anger.

“No.” He grabbed your wrist. “We’re leaving.” You planted your feet in the ground.

“Excuse you?”

“I said, we’re leaving.” He hissed.

“They’ll have my head if I’m seen leaving with you.”

“They can fucking suck it up. I’m The Homelander. I get who I want, when I want. We’re leaving.” He dragged you by the wrist to pull you out the back doors. You were acutely aware that all the photographers turned away their cameras after seeing the expression on Homelander’s face.

The cold night air curled around your exposed skin, but you had no time to even breathe it in before your head hit the wall behind you and Homelander’s lips were on yours. His hands gripped your waist as he pulled you closer to him. You push him away, sucking in deep breaths.

“What’s gotten into you? Why are you acting like this?” You ask breathlessly. You can’t say you don’t enjoy this possessiveness, but he’s never made such a scene for you before, especially in public. He doesn’t answer before pulling you back into another hungry kiss.

He pulls away, his breath hot against your neck. “You’re mine. All fucking mine. No one else can have you, especially not that fucker Deep.” He pants. His grip tightened in a way you’re sure would bruise if it wasn’t for your invulnerable skin. “Fucking say it. Say that you’re mine.” A tone of pathetic desperation creeps into his voice. You smile and curl your fingers in his hair.

You wish Madelyn could see you now. Not a good pair, as if.

“I’m yours, Homelander.” You assure him. He whines against your collarbone. You’re sure tomorrow he’ll go back to pretending none of this happened, but for now you revel in his attention. “Why don’t you show them that I belong to you?”

It’s so petty, just a cheap way to stick it in Madelyn’s face. Homelander grins as he tries to suck a hickey on your neck. Both of your smiles quickly faded at the realization that there’s no way to bruise invincible skin. “Shit.” You cursed under your breath. Homelander looked up at you with his big blue eyes. You run your fingers through his hair.

“I’m sure you could show them in a different way.” You smirked.

[itisdoctortoyousir]

we do, but friends don't

A work based off of "Friends Don't" by Maddie & Tae Friends don't: cancel other plans, have conversations with nothing but their eyes, hear each other's names and forget to concentrate, call in the middle of the night, stand around and play with their keys, find reasons not to leave, drive a little too slow, take the long way home, get a little too close, almost say 'I love you,' talk about the future and put each other in it, get chills with every accidental touch. You and Melissa do, though.

Link posted here, or the entire story is below the 'keep reading.' Enjoy!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54009289

 “I’ll see you tonight, Melissa,” Barbara said as she made her way down the hall of the school toward the parking lot.

   “Wait, Barb!” Melissa jogged to catch up to her friend. “Something came up. Maybe we can have our monthly dinner next week instead?” she suggested.

   Barbara raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow. “You have other plans?” She caught Melissa’s traveling gaze land on the closed door to your classroom but decided to keep her mouth shut. Her friend would tell her when the time was right.

   “Yeah,” Melissa rubbed the back of her neck. “Sorry.”

   “Melissa Schemmenti,” Barbara patted her friend on the forearm. “Have fun.” With that, Barbara was out the door and in her car, speeding home to tell Gerald the news.

   Melissa headed in the direction of your classroom. 

   Through the window in the door, you saw her raise her eyebrows as if to say, ‘I gotta tell ya something.’ You smiled in response and held up a single finger to ask her for a minute. Melissa rolled her eyes but stayed behind the closed door patiently.

   While she was waiting, Jacob walked over to Melissa, drawing her attention.

   “Are you waiting for Y/N?” He asked.

   Melissa nodded politely in response.

   “You know, I heard a podcast about Italian history the other day, and I meant to tell you about…” 

   To Melissa, Jacob’s voice trailed off. Whenever she heard your name these days, her mind was transported to an imaginary, distant future. A jolt of electricity would run up her spine at the mention of you and her face would turn the color of cartoon dynamite. Melissa had to get home; whatever she wanted to tell you could wait. She was about to explode. Without trying to figure out if Jacob was actually done talking, Melissa turned toward the doors and pounded her way down the hall, out the doors, and to her car, speeding home.

   On a random Saturday night, you woke up to your phone ringing. The caller ID read Melissa, so you picked up, your heart fluttering ever so slightly. “What’s the matter?” you asked, your voice laced with concern.

   “Nothing, hun,” she answered.

   “Then why are you calling me in the middle of the night?”

   “I- I don’t know…” The line was silent for half a minute, the only sound your shared breaths. “I just wanted to say ‘hi.’”

   “On a Saturday night?” you asked.

   “Yeah, I guess I just missed ya today.”

   “I missed you too, Mel. But I’ll see you tomorrow at game night.”

   “Right, you want a ride to that thing?”

   “That’d be great,” you perked up at the offer to be alone with Melissa for even a ten-minute car ride.

   “Sounds good. I’ll pick you up at 5:45,” Melissa replied. She could sense the phone call would end soon, but she couldn’t determine for the life of her how to appropriately drag out the conversation. Simply hearing your slow breathing would be enough for her, but she imagines her phone bill would beg to differ.

   “I’ll see you then,” you said, also wracking your brain for a way to drag out the conversation. “Goodnight, Melissa.”

   “Goodnight.” She heard the line go dead and, with it, the sounds of your warming breaths vanished.

   The next night at 5:45, Melissa rang the doorbell for your place. “Come in,” you invited her, “I just need to grab the wine from the fridge.” You knew Janine would fail to get Melissa’s favorite Prosecco, so you decided to bring a bottle yourself.

   “No rush,” Melissa called as you left her to idle in the foyer so you could grab the wine.

   When you came back, Melissa was fiddling with her keys. “You ready to go?” you asked.

   As if she hadn’t even heard you, Melissa pointed to a painting on the wall and asked, “When did’cha get this?”

   “A while back,” you responded, watching her as she followed the perimeter along the walls, discovering more artwork along the way.

   “Are you ready?” You chuckled.

   Melissa shook her head, her eyes landing on a vase of flowers. “Not yet. Who bought you flowers?” Her voice was laced with an accusatory tone. She was the only one who could buy you flowers.

   “I bought them. Wanted to brighten up the place a bit.”

   “They’re nice,” she said quietly, still fiddling with her car keys. Suddenly, her demeanor shifted back to the cooly confident Schemmenti you had initially expected. “Alright, hun, let’s head out. Stop distracting me,” she teased.

   At Janine’s apartment for game night, you and Melissa were paired together for Pictionary. Melissa was up to draw first. She drew a large circle on the page, and you excitedly called out, “Pizza!” Melissa’s face lit up, and she started drawing the next prompt since the time was still going.

   “How did you get pizza from a circle?” Gregory questioned. The rest of your friends looked puzzled but continued to watch in amazement as you and Melissa seemed to be the perfect match for this game.

   “Camel!”

   “Okay, that was just an upside-down U!” Janine groaned.

   “Colorado!”

   “She drew a rectangle!” Jacob harrumphed, sitting back on the couch.

   “Skunk!” You called out right before the time ran out, giving your team a sizable lead.

   “Even I don’t get that one, dear. It’s just a squiggle,” Barbara said.

   “It’s a tail,” you and Melissa said at the same time. You blushed profusely. Melissa took a large gulp of her wine, emptying the glass. 

   You took her glass in your sweaty hand and went to the kitchen to refill both of your glasses. You utilized the moment to control your heart rate.

   As the night drew to a close, Melissa stood from her spot on the couch and looked down at you. “You ready to head out?”

   You nodded and stood, winding up slightly too close to the woman, your thighs bumping before you took a step back into the couch.

   “Alright, bye, you two,” Janine said, hugging you after Melissa shrugged her off.

   Silently, Melissa drove you home. Dozens of cars passed you on the road, but neither of you seemed to notice. You weren’t in any rush to get home. And then she took a turn too early. “This isn’t the normal turn,” you said, more curious than concerned.

   “It’s a different route, a little longer. You’ll like it,” Melissa replied cooly, her eyes never straying from the road in front of her while yours rested firmly on her face lit up by the street lights.

   She was right. You did enjoy the ride, if only for the company.

   “Here we are, hun,” Melissa said as she pulled in front of your place. Just as you were getting out of the car, Melissa called out to you. “Y/N-”

   You leaned back in, maybe too far into her space. Your breath warmed her face. “Yeah?”

   “I-” She shook her head, clearing the fog from her mind. She wanted to say ‘I love you.’ “I had fun tonight. We make a good team.”

   “We do,” you replied. There was nothing else to say. What you wanted to say couldn’t be said in this state. Melissa would just think you had drunk too much wine. “Goodnight, Mel,” you said quietly, shutting her car door.

   She mouthed back a silent ‘goodnight’ and followed your retreating form as you walked inside. She then sped back home.

   The next Friday night, you were out at a new bar with Ava. While she was soaking in the attention of quite a few men and some women, you were sat upon a barstool picturing an image too far away to grasp.

   “Girl, what is up with you tonight?” Ava asked when she finally took a break from flirting with her flavor of the quarter hour.

   “Nothing, I guess I’m just not feeling it tonight.”

   “How you gonna find your future partner if you don’t flirt now?”

   “I think I’ve already found her,” you said, imagining an older version of yourself reclining on the couch with Melissa yelling at a football game plopped right next to you. Ava simply rolled her eyes and walked off.

   One morning in the break room you walked in to see Melissa fixing you a cup of your preferred morning beverage. When she finished with both of your drinks, she sat at the table next to you. “Here ya go,” she said, handing you your cup. Your hand accidentally brushed hers and a chill shot down your back. “You cold?” she asked. Her hand reached out to rub your bicep and another chill came upon you.

   Barbara, watching the entire scene, hummed over her own mug of coffee.

   On another night, you found yourself clicking through your phone to call Melissa. Her phone sent you to voicemail, so you left a message.

   “Hey, Mel. I don’t really know why I’m calling you,” you let out a soft chuckle. “I guess I just wanted to say ‘hi’ and hear your voice ‘cause I kinda had a rough night and your voice was the only thing I could think of to calm me down. But… uhhh… you don’t need to worry about that… I’ll see you… uh… soon.” 

   Not even five minutes later you got a call back.

   “Can you drive?” Melissa asked.

   “Yeah, why?”

   “Come over.” With that, she hung up, leaving you no choice but to do as you were told. You drove to Melissa’s house in your pajamas, not even bringing your phone.

   Before you could knock, Melissa pulled open her door and wrapped you in a tight hug. Right there on the front steps. The cool night air all around you.

   After about an hour of just sitting in comfortable silence with Melissa on her couch, you patted her thigh and began to stand. You played with your keys, trying to find something to say, to stretch the time. “Melissa, thank you – for everything.”

   She didn’t say anything for the longest time, holding your glance, the background music the sound of jingling keys. “Why don’t you just stay?” she finally suggested.

   “Are you sure?”

   “Yeah, I mean – I don’t want you out driving at this time of night. So stay.”

   “Okay,” you replied. Inside, your heart was having minor palpitations, doing backflips over and over; you imagined it was trying to impress her like a loyal dog.

   Melissa tugged you into her bedroom and next to her on the bed.

   “This is your room…”

   “I don’t got any other bedrooms,” she explains. 

   After another hour of comfortable silence, both of you scrolling through your phones and occasionally leaning into the other to show her a funny video, Melissa leaned over to you, letting your head fall into the crook of her neck. “We look nice, let me get a pic, hun.” She held out her phone, taking a picture of the two of you. You had no idea why, but you didn’t want to question the woman after she offered to let you stay in her house. Unbeknownst to you, Melissa sent the image to Barbara in a small display of progress with her crush.

   The next morning, you woke up with a small grin on your face, having slept the previous night in the same bed as Melissa Schemmenti. Melissa was already up, looking at her phone; Barbara had texted her back: ‘Don’t you look cozy, lovebird.’

   You got up, gathering your few belongings to leave. Melissa shot out of bed. “Wait! Let me get you a sweatshirt so you don’t have to drive home cold in your sleep shirt.” Melissa rummaged through her drawers, pulling out an old Flyers sweatshirt. It was faded slightly, had small tears in the cuffs, and was probably older than you, but it smelled like Melissa. You pictured her wearing it on weekends, cooking a warm meal over the stove.

   “Thanks,” you said, pulling the sweatshirt over your pajama top. It was as warm as she had promised. 

   You pulled out of Melissa’s driveway slowly as she waved to you from her porch. You stayed at that glacial pace until you could no longer see her from your rearview mirror. On your drive home, you took the long way, not ready to go back to your cold, lonely apartment just yet.

   The next Monday when you found Melissa in the teachers’ lounge, you handed her back her sweatshirt, washed and folded. “Here, thank you. You were right, it was warm.”

   Melissa stood too close to you, sharing your air. “I’m glad, hun.” She grabbed the sweatshirt and left to put it with her stuff in her classroom.

   “What was that?” Jacob pounced on the tension.

   “Nothing,” you replied too quickly. “That was nothing.”

   “Are you sure, girl?” Ava piped up while she was pouring copious amounts of sugar into her coffee. “‘Cuz I’ve seen nothing, and that ain’t it.”

   Before you could reply, Melissa came back into the lounge, still holding the sweatshirt. “On second thought, keep it.” She pushed it back into your arms.

   You locked eyes with her. “Are you sure?”

   “It’s yours now,” Melissa replied, having a silent conversation with your eyes.

   You could smell her perfume all over the sweatshirt; you thought it had been washed off when you cleaned it. Then you realized that she went and reapplied her perfume all over the sweatshirt so that it would still smell like her.

   “Awe, Mel,” you teased, bumping her shoulder with yours, “You really do love me.” A little harmless flirtation in the workplace never hurt.

   Melissa became defensive. “No, I don’t. You just ruined the sweatshirt, so you might as well keep it.”

   “Sure I did,” you replied sing-songy as you walked out and to your classroom to get ready for the school day.

   Some night later that week, you got a random phone call from Melissa.

   “Hello?” you picked up.

   “Y/N…”

   “Mel,” you prompted when she didn’t say anything.

   “I…”

   “What’s wrong?”

   “Nothing, nothing… just wanted to say ‘hi.’”

   “Are you at home?” you asked.

   “Yeah,” Melissa replied slowly, not sure what you were asking. Without giving her an answer, you hung up.

   You found yourself knocking on Melissa’s front door. When she opened the door, you pulled her out to your car. “Come on.”

   You drove in silence until you weren’t sure where exactly you were. You parked the car in an empty parking lot and turned to face Melissa. “What’s going on?”

   “I should be asking you,” she laughed. “You’re the one who kidnapped me in the middle of the night.”

   “You wanted to say something. I thought the drive might help you let it out.”

   You spent the next half hour talking about everything under the sun. Learning about each other’s childhood, their likes and dislikes, but the real reason Melissa called you never came up. It was still nagging her in the back of her brain. Hoping to draw out the time with her, you played with your keys and tried to think of new questions, random questions that meant nothing except for more time with Melissa. Eventually, though, you had to drive her home.

   You spent a long portion of the drive home going in slow, convoluted loops.

   “Where are you going?” Melissa asked.

   “I’m just getting you home the long way,” you lied through your teeth.

   “There’s only one way back to my house from here.”

   “Right,” you replied, turning around back towards her house.

   When you finally got back to Melissa’s house, you got out of the car and walked her to the front door.

   “Y/N,” Melissa whispered as she pulled you close to her by the collar of her – your – sweatshirt that you were wearing.

   “Melissa…”

   “What I wanted to say…” She paused for a supportive breath. “I love you.”

   “I love you too,” you whispered back as you leaned in for your first kiss with Melissa Schemmenti, hopefully the first of many.

[shuavez]

2:58am — j.ww

tags/warnings — waiter!wonwoo x reader. no warnings!

a/n — i love pancake parlour. that’s it that’s the fic.

The diner is quiet, save for the soft hum of the company Spotify playlist filling the air and the occasional sound of banter drifting from the kitchen, where the cooks are talking about anything but the food. The bright lights above cast a muted glow over the half-empty tables, the remnants of late-night customers already cleared away.

You’re finishing up wiping down already-clean tables, the cloth warm and damp in your hands, the rhythmic motion soothing after hours of not much happening. The clock on the wall ticks lazily toward 3 a.m., and it’s just you and Wonwoo left.

“God, it’s dead tonight,” you mutter, pushing the last of the crumbs off a booth with a sigh. You glance over at Wonwoo, who’s leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

He looks up at you, his lips curling into a smile. “At least we have a place to ourselves.” He’s always so calm, always managing to make even the dullest hours feel comfortable.

“True,” you reply, leaning on the counter next to him. “I’m almost too comfortable. I feel like we should start a podcast or something. ‘Pancake Philosophy.’ I mean, we have all the time in the world for deep, philosophical conversations, right?”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I’m not sure you’re ready for my thoughts. Some of them are too deep for you.” His voice is playful, but you catch the hint of affection behind the teasing.

“Too deep, huh?” you tease back, grinning. “I bet you’re the type of guy to have a secret stash of journals filled with all your musings.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, but his smile lingers, as it always does when you’re around. “If I had a secret stash, I’d probably burn it. Who needs to remember all that nonsense?”

“I think you secretly want to be a philosopher. Bet you’ve thought about it,” you poke, leaning in a little, eyes narrowing playfully.

“Maybe.” He looks at you, his expression softening a little. “Maybe I just want to be good at something.”

“Pretty sure you’re already good at everything, Wonwoo,” you reply, giving him a half-hearted eye roll. “I can barely get my one job done, and you’re over here making pancakes look like art and being wise at the same time.”

He laughs at that, shaking his head. “You’re being dramatic. But you do have a point. I’m good at pancakes.”

“You’re the best at pancakes,” you affirm, nudging him with your shoulder. It’s playful, easy—like it’s always been between you two. There’s a smoothness to your friendship, a shared understanding without needing to say much. You’ve both been here countless times before, these quiet hours at the end of the night, and it’s always felt like home.

From the back, you hear Jeonghan’s voice echoing out to the front of the diner. “You two still here? I’m done with you. Go home already.”

You glance up at the clock—it’s almost 3 a.m., and he’s right. You’ve been finished with your shift for a while now, but there’s something nice about hanging around with Wonwoo, the air light and comfortable.

“Well, guess we’re done,” you say, gathering your stuff and heading toward your usual booth. “I’m not gonna complain about leaving early, but I swear, one of these days, I’m going to be too good at this job.”

Wonwoo falls in step beside you, nursing a stack of pancakes the cooks had kindly prepared for your knockoff. “I’m sure you’ll make it to employee of the month eventually. Don’t worry.”

“You’re really gonna stick with that ‘employee of the month’ thing?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “At this rate, I’m more likely to get ‘most likely to break something before the end of my shift.’”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure you’ve already won that award. Multiple times.”

“Rude.” You give him a playful shove as you both walk to the far booth in the corner of the diner, slipping into your usual seats. “I’m not that bad.”

Wonwoo chuckles, reaching immediately for a fork. “Let’s be real—if anyone’s gonna break something, it’s you.” He smirks, poking idly at the edge of a pancake.

You roll your eyes again, grabbing the syrup and drizzling it over the pancakes that still sit between you two. “I’m not that clumsy, alright? I can handle a few spatulas and a knife without causing a catastrophe.”

“Sure, sure,” he says, his smile widening. “If you say so.”

You settle into a comfortable silence after that, just the sound of your forks scraping against plates filling the air. It’s a simple, ordinary moment, but it’s perfect in its own way. You’re used to this—eating pancakes at 3 a.m., laughing over the stupidest things, making fun of each other like friends do. But tonight, something’s different.

After a while, Wonwoo finally speaks again, his voice a little softer, more serious. “Hey, uh… I was thinking.”

You glance up at him. “That’s dangerous. You thinking always leads to something weird.”

He laughs, but there’s something nervous in it. “Maybe. But, uh… you wanna go out sometime? Like, outside of work?” His words stumble over each other, but you catch the sincerity in them, the way his gaze lingers just a little longer than usual.

You freeze, your fork halfway to your mouth, and blink. Wonwoo’s never been the type to make bold moves—he’s always been the quiet one, the one who observes more than speaks. The idea of him asking you out feels like something out of a dream.

“Like a date?” you ask, a little breathless.

“Yeah,” he confirms, voice quiet but earnest. “I mean… I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Just didn’t know how to ask. I didn’t want to make things weird.”

You stare at him for a moment, heart pounding in your chest, and a slow smile spreads across your face. “I’d like that,” you say softly. “I think I’d really like that.”

Wonwoo visibly relaxes, his smile returning, this time warmer. The tension that was there just a moment ago melts away, and the air between you two feels lighter. He looks down at his half-empty plate, suddenly unsure again. “I’ll… figure out when and where. I’ll make it good, I promise.”

After a few minutes, you finish the last bite of your pancakes, and you both slide out of the booth. The night air hits you both as you walk toward your car, the cool breeze stirring the stillness around you. There’s a slight unease in the air, but it’s not bad—just new.

There’s a pause—an almost awkward silence, but it’s filled with the weight of unspoken feelings, the kind that have been lingering in the air for far too long. Wonwoo shifts on his feet, then looks at you, his voice low and careful. “Can I… can I kiss you?”

The question, so polite and sincere, takes you by surprise. It’s almost as if he’s asking for permission to release something that’s been building between you two. You nod, a little breathless, and his hand comes to rest gently at your side.

He leans in slowly, cautiously, like he’s afraid he might break the fragile tension between you. When his lips finally meet yours, it’s soft at first—tentative, almost awkward, as if both of you are learning how to fit together in this new way. But then, with a shift of his weight, a soft sigh against your lips, it changes.

The kiss deepens, the rhythm coming naturally now as you both move in sync. It’s a release, an exhale of everything unsaid, and you lose yourself in the warmth of it. His lips are gentle yet insistent, his hand tentatively brushing the side of your face, and you can feel the quiet urgency that’s been hidden beneath the surface.

Just when you’re beginning to lose track of time, a voice breaks through the moment.

Jeonghan’s leaning against the door, holding a trash bag. “Well, look at that,” he says with a sly grin, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve been counting down the days until Wonwoo grew a pair.”

You laugh, pulling away from Wonwoo with a grin, and Jeonghan’s teasing only makes the moment feel more real.

“I’ll text you,” you say to Wonwoo, quickly pulling out your phone and setting a time and place. The promise of a real date, outside of work, feels like something new and exciting.

As you drive away, the taste of hot fudge and maple syrup lingers on your lips, mixing with the sweet anticipation of what’s to come.