#I don't know why but this is so funny to me

[saeist]

"why are you calling me so late? you should be sleeping" sae murmurs, setting his phone down on the table as he prepares for his daily morning run

there was a time difference between you and him. he knows that damn well and for you to be calling him at 6 AM in spain must mean that it was around night time for you

"because i realized i forgot to tell you something" you reply, snuggling further into your blanket as you watch sae get ready for the day

sae pauses, he was in the middle of tying his shoes before he gives you a look

"which is?"

"i love you" you say with a sleepy smile, eyelids growing heavy. you propped your phone against the lamp on your bedside table just in case you were about to fall asleep again

sae stops in his tracks hearing your words. despite dating for a long time, you still somehow manage to blow him away with a mere declaration of love. it's kinda funny really— for the soccer super star to still be so in love and obsessed with you like you two just had started dating

before sae could say anything back, he hears your light snores from the screen. he laughs quietly to himself as he grabs his phone to take a closer look. the way you had placed your phone showed him a perfect view of your sleeping face

"i love you more" sae murmurs. it doesn't matter if you heard him or not cause you were fast asleep because he'd say it anyway. he watches you a little longer before taking a screenshot to preserve the moment for himself to enjoy later on

you don't know it but sae has a secret album dedicated to your late night calls with him

once he was sure that you were sound asleep, sae quietly ends the call and shuts his phone off. he heads out for his usual daily morning run but today was a a little different

all because of a special someone who called despite the distance

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　NOT AN UBER DRIVER

⋆౨ৎ˚ — matt sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where a very much drunk Y/N, glasses-less, and leaving a party, hops into what she thinks is her Uber, only to be greeted by Matt, a cute guy who is definitely not her Uber driver.

WARNING: Being drunk, feeling sick.

REQUESTED?: No.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I saw this TikTok last week and thought 'why not?', it felt like a funny idea, so I hope yall like it 🤍.

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The bass thumped through the pavement, the kind of deep, rolling sound that reverberated in her bones and made the ground feel unsteady beneath her feet.

Or maybe that was just the tequila. Hard to tell.

Either way, the party was starting to blur together, flashes of neon lights, the distant echo of laughter, the lingering scent of something vaguely sweet and smoky in the air.

Y/N blinked, trying to focus on her phone screen. The tiny glowing numbers refused to sit still, swimming in and out of focus as she squinted at them.

Where the hell were her glasses?

Right. In her purse. Or maybe on someone’s table. Or maybe gone forever. It didn’t really matter at this point. What mattered was that her Uber was here.

Probably.

The app had just pinged her, and that was her cue to leave.

With the kind of confidence only a drunk girl could have, she swiped a hand through her hair, straightened her posture like that would somehow make her seem more composed, and made her way toward the line of parked cars outside the mansion. The LA air was cooler out here, crisp against her flushed skin.

She hummed to herself, stumbling slightly as she approached the row of black and silver vehicles. Was it the black Honda? Or the black SUV? Or-

Whatever, doesn’t matter.

Uber drivers always had those tiny stickers on the window, right? Not that she could see them without her glasses.

So, with absolutely no hesitation, Y/N reached for the handle of a random car and slid into the passenger seat like she did this every day. The leather was warm from sitting under the LA heat, the faint scent of something salty and familiar lingering in the air.

She barely had time to register the fact that the driver hadn’t greeted her before she clicked her seatbelt into place and sighed.

"Hey, Uber driver who I don’t know the name of because I don’t have my glasses with me." She said, head lolling slightly to the side as she glanced toward the figure beside her.

Matt Sturniolo was staring at her like he had just witnessed a crime.

His fingers hovered frozen over the fast-food bag in his lap, his wide blue eyes reflecting pure, unfiltered what the actual fuck energy. He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He just sat there, his grip tightening ever so slightly around a lone onion ring.

Y/N, oblivious to the sheer level of distress she had just caused, frowned at him. Weirdly quiet guy.

Then, without missing a beat, Matt cleared his throat, glanced at his onion ring, and started talking.

"Hey... uh. Do you want an onion ring?"

Y/N blinked at him. Processing.

Then, after too many seconds, she shrugged.

"Sure, why not."

And just like that, she took the onion ring from his fingers - that was already bitten -, popped it into her mouth, and chewed.

The onion ring was good. Like, really good. Crispy, salty, the kind of satisfying crunch that felt almost poetic in the moment. Or maybe that was just her messy taste buds. Either way, Y/N sat there, chewing thoughtfully, completely unfazed by the fact that the guy next to her - her supposed Uber driver - had yet to say much beyond offering her fast food.

She swallowed, then licked a bit of salt off her lip before shifting in her seat. It was only then that she noticed something was... off.

They weren’t moving.

The car was still in park, engine humming softly, headlights illuminating the empty stretch of road ahead.

She furrowed her brows, glancing at him.

"Hey, I’m all good to go!" She announced, clapping her hands together like this was some kind of Uber check-in process. "You can start driving now."

Matt, still mildly stunned and feeling lost, blinked at her. Then, after a pause, he cleared his throat, preparing himself to make her leave his KIA.

"Miss, I'm not-" Matt stopped himself, jaw tensing.

He could think she was insane and reckless all he wanted, but he sure wasn’t about to let a drunk girl figure out how to get home alone. Not in this city. Not when she could barely stand straight without swaying like a damn cartoon character.

He let out a slow exhale, cleaning his dirty fingers on the napkin laying above the car console.

"You know what? What’s the address?"

Oh. Right. Addresses.

Y/N blinked at him, then at her phone, the glowing letters on the screen looking like they were written in an ancient, forbidden language that her brain had no capacity to decipher right now. She squinted hard, her mouth moving in a silent test run before she finally read them aloud, not even realizing that the Uber app would’ve already handled this for her. If he was her Uber driver at all.

Matt just nodded, turning to his GPS and tapping in the location like this was just another casual night.

But just as he finished, a text notification popped up on the screen.

Nick: We’re leaving in 10. U there?

Matt glanced at it for half a second.

And then?

He ignored it.

His fingers hovered over the screen, but instead of bothering to answer, he just drove his attention to the road, shifted gears, and put his car in motion.

The engine hummed smoothly, the low rumble cutting through the quiet night as the car rolled onto the road, the distant echoes of the party fading into the background.

Y/N exhaled dramatically, sinking further into the passenger seat, trying to focus on the soft hum of the car rather than the growing ache in her head.

After a beat, she glanced over at Matt - really looked at him for the first time. His dark shirt, the way his fingers decorated with silver rings drummed lightly on the steering wheel, the faint glow of streetlights casting sharp angles across his bearded face making his features pop in the kind of way that made her want to run a hand through her hair and pretend she wasn’t so clearly out of it.

He was cute. Like, annoyingly cute.

"Are all Ubers that work past midnight this pretty?" She asked, her words dripping with playful sincerity.

Matt’s eyes widened, his grip on the wheel tightening just a little as his mouth opened, and then, realizing he wasn’t choking on anything, he did exactly that, choked on nothing. For a split second, he glanced at her, looking like a deer caught in headlights before snapping his gaze back to the road.

"What?" He asked, his voice going a little higher than usual, almost like a weird, adorable squeak.

Y/N raised her eyebrows, tilting her head like she was explaining the weather.

"I mean, it’s a fair question, right? I feel like this must be an exclusive, midnight-only service you’ve got going here."

Matt’s eyes flicked over to her again, his face a mixture of confusion, shock, and something a lot like embarrassment. He cleared his throat as if it would somehow help him regain some composure, but it only made the situation more awkward, and infinitely more endearing.

"... I... I’m not-" He atarted, though his voice was barely a whisper as he struggled to keep his attention on the road.

"Wait." She interrupted him abruptly, turning fully toward him now, gasping softly. "Are you one of those cool Uber drivers?"

Matt let out a breathy, shocked laugh through his nose, shaking his head with the sudden change of humor.

"What- what do you mean ‘cool Uber driver’?"

"You know." She gestured vaguely. "The ones who let me blast my music and give me free snacks."

Matt hummed, tilting his head in mock consideration.

"I don’t know. What kind of music are we talking?"

Y/N gasped, clutching her chest.

"As if that’s even a question. The best kind, duh."

Matt raised a brow. For him, the best kind was Mac Miller.

"Which is...?"

She grinned, already reaching for his aux cord like it was her car.

"I could tell you, but I’d rather show you."

Matt didn’t stop her. He just exhaled another amused breath through his nose, watching through the corner of his eye as she scrolled furiously through her playlists, her brows furrowing in deep concentration. Then, with a triumphant little hum, she hit play.

The car instantly filled with the unmistakable opening notes of Tik Tok by Kesha.

Matt’s grip on the steering wheel twitched. Y/N, completely unbothered, turned to him with the most serious expression possible.

"This is non-negotiable. You must sing."

Matt scoffed.

"I must?"

"It’s a legally binding agreement the second Kesha starts playing." She said matter-of-factly.

Matt shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself.

"I don’t think that’s how the law works."

"You think the law has power over Kesha?" She gasped. "Over me?"

Matt laughed. A real laugh this time. Low and warm and easy.

Nick would've loved her.

Y/N, taking this as a win, nodded firmly before dramatically belting out the lyrics, all while drumming her hands against her thighs like this was a full-on concert.

"BEFORE I LEAVE BRUSH MY TEETH WITH A BOTTLE OF JACK-"

Matt winced.

"Jesus Christ."

"- CAUSE WHEN I LEAVE FOR THE NIGHT, I AIN'T COMING BACK!"

Matt, to his credit, didn’t crash the car. He just huffed out another laugh, shaking his head as he reached into the Burger King bag and held out another onion ring.

"Here. Please, for the love of God, chew."

Y/N gasped again, snatching the onion ring dramatically.

"Are you trying to silence me?"

"A little bit."

She narrowed her eyes, biting into it slowly, all while maintaining intense eye contact.

"You fear my talent."

Matt let out a small chuckle, adjusting his grip on the wheel.

"I fear for my eardrums."

Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically, taking another bite of the onion ring. She chewed happily for a few seconds, but then, suddenly, her jaw slowed.

A weird, unsettling feeling rolled through her stomach like a warning siren, and before she could process it, nausea hit her like a wave. Everything inside her flipped, her stomach twisting unpleasantly. She swallowed thickly, her throat tightening, her whole body stilling.

Matt noticed instantly.

"Hey, hey, hey." He said, his voice dipping into something soft, immediately catching onto her discomfort.

His reaction was so quick that before she could even think, he had already taken one hand off the wheel, reaching toward her. His fingers brushed against hers, gently but firmly taking the half-eaten onion ring from her grasp, tossing it effortlessly back into the bag.

And then, without a moment's hesitation, he paused the song and rolled down her window.

The cool night air rushed inside, hitting her face in a gentle, relieving gust, playing with the strands of her hair and making them dance in the wind, cooling down her warm face.

Matt's hand went back to the wheel, but his eyes flicked toward her every couple of seconds.

"You good? Want me to pull over?"

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the fresh air like it was her lifeline. Her fingers gripped the side of the seat, her head tilting slightly toward the breeze, trying to ground herself.

"Ugh, no, no, I'm fine." She muttered, still a little off-balance. "It just hit me weird. I think my stomach was like, 'Oh, cool, fried food after a night of drinking? Let's ruin this bitch'."

Matt huffed a small laugh.

"Yeah, well, if your stomach starts a full-on rebellion, let me know before it declares war all over my car."

"Don't be mean about it, Uber driver."

Y/N’s voice came out small and pouty, her bottom lip jutting out dramatically as she turned toward him, blinking slowly to ward off the dizziness that followed the nausea.

Matt glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, trying so hard not to laugh at the ridiculous, genuinely heartbroken expression on her face.

"I wasn’t being mean-"

"Yes, you were."

"I was just-"

"So mean."

Her voice wobbled just slightly, and suddenly Matt’s stomach dropped.

Oh, shit.

She was about to cry.

Matt had never dealt with a drunk, emotional person before, and definitely not a stranger one. His brain scrambled for literally anything to do, anything at all, before full-on tears started spilling down her cheeks.

"Hey, no. Don't cry, sweetheart."

The second the pet name left his lips, Y/N’s entire demeanor shifted.

Her tears stopped, and her face softened, lips slightly parted, like she had just witnessed a miracle.

"Sweetheart?"

Matt froze.

Oh, fuck.

Matt glanced around, suddenly feeling too warm, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel like it was his lifeline. His heart was pounding, and she was still staring at him, blinking up at him like he had just given her the most precious gift in the world.

And he needed to fix this immediately.

Without another word, he reached for the smart screen, his fingers quickly tapping it to press play on the song he had paused minutes before.

The second the sound of Kesha's voice blasted through the car again, Y/N’s mood did a complete 180°. Her face lit up, eyes widening as if she had just been brought back to life.

"Oh, shit- KESHA!"

And just like that, everything was gone.

The near-tears were gone, the heartbreak about his comment had vanished, and she was singing again, full volume, completely unapologetic, her hands moving wildly as she danced in her seat.

Matt let out a slow breath, his heart still beating too fast.

Between a 2000's song here and drunk comments there about how she ended up taking way too many jello shots with a dude named Brad who refused to say what he actually did for life or how she ended up getting locked in a bathroom because some drunk couple mistook the stall for a VIP lounge, the car slowed, turning onto a familiar street.

Matt glanced at his GPS, then out the window, before finally shifting into park. He reached for the smart screen, lowering the volume to a minimum before looking at her, voice soft.

"Alright, this is you."

Y/N blinked, then turned her head to look outside.

And- oh.

It was her place.

Huh.

For a second, she just... stared at it. The streetlights, the familiar shape of her front door, the welcome mat that she’d impulsively bought months ago because it said "Hot Girls Live Here".

She chewed on her lip, hesitating for half a second before sighing dramatically.

"Welp. Bye bye, mister Uber driver."

Matt hummed, nodding, but didn’t say anything. So she grabbed her purse and reached for the door handle.

The second she swung it open and stepped out, however, the ground tilted.

Okay, not literally, but it sure as hell felt like it. Her legs wobbled, the world spinning ever so slightly, and before she could even blink, a warm hand wrapped around her arm, steadying her.

"Whoa, hey."

Y/N blinked down at him, her vision slightly wobbly, her brain playing catch-up.

Matt was still in his seat, halfway over the center console, one arm stretched out to keep her from completely face-planting onto the pavement. His fingers curled securely around her forearm, firm but careful, like she was a newborn deer that had just taken its first, very questionable, steps.

"Damn, got two left feet there, huh?" He muttered, lips twitching. "You good?"

Y/N laughed way too hard than any sober person would. Like, actual tears in her eyes hard. And then, as if to prove just how not good she was, she swayed again before flopping back onto the seat with a little bounce.

Matt raised a brow, biting back his own chuckle. It wasn’t even a good joke.

Still giggling, Y/N reached out blindly, pressing a palm to his arm.

"You’re so funny."

However, her face falls shortly after, her brows knitting together, laced with a curious gaze as she slides her fingers around his skin in search of the swallows inked onto his whole arm.

Matt tensed slightly, watching her fingertips skate across the ink on his forearm, brushing over lines and shading with gentle curiosity.

"Having fun there?" He wet his lips.

"Yeah." She nodded enthusiastically - too enthusiastically, because a second later, she froze as dizziness smacked into her like a truck for the second time.

Matt swore internally. His skin was heating way too much for a guy who had a fully intoxicated girl petting his arm like it was a damn artifact.

Okay. Time to move.

"Alright!" His voice came out way louder than he intended, and he immediately regretted it. He cleared his throat again, slowly untangling his arm from her grasp. "Stay right there."

And before she could even attempt a protest, he was already moving.

Y/N blinked as she watched him step out, rounding the front of the car in a few easy strides. His shirt riding up slightly, his keys jingling from his belt loop, his hair shifting slightly with the breeze.

And then, suddenly, he was right in front of her.

Without hesitation, he reached for her purse on the ground, slinging it over his own shoulder, and held out a hand.

"C’mon."

Y/N just stared at him. Then at his hand. Then at his very serious expression. Her brain took a moment before her arm finally moved.

The moment Matt’s fingers wrapped around Y/N’s hand, his skin was all she could feel.

His palm was warm, the kind of warmth that felt steadying. But it wasn’t just that. It was smooth, too, except for the slightly rougher patches right at the base of his fingers - the callouses from years of drumming.

Her drunken brain latched onto the detail immediately.

"Oh, wow." She blurted out, squeezing his hand. "Your hands are so soft. Like silk."

Matt blinked, looking at their joined hands for a second before glancing back up at her, his lips twitching.

"First time anyone’s ever told me they feel like silk. I’m flattered."

Y/N hummed dramatically, still holding onto him.

"You should be. It’s a big deal."

Matt let out a small chuckle before giving her fingers a quick, firm squeeze back.

With a giggle, Y/N finally let herself be pulled up, swaying a little too much in the process, but before she could even stumble, Matt moved, gently grabbing her arm, pulling it over his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

And wow.

Wow.

He was warm. And solid. And smelled like onion rings and rich cologne and some kind of softness that made her stomach flip in ways she refused to unpack right now.

"Watch your feet."

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Matt had no idea what time it was when they finally reached her porch, but it was definitely late. The kind of late that made the streetlights buzz a little louder, the air feel a little colder, and his patience with this drunk, ridiculous girl stretch dangerously thin.

Not that he actually minded.

If anything, it was insanely cute how she was just sitting there now, slumped in the wooden chair like some kind of defeated heroine. Her arms were dangling off the armrests, legs stretched out in front of her, head tilted back dramatically, and mascara forming black trails below her eyes.

Matt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I said stay still."

Y/N let out a deep, theatrical sigh, still moving her legs like a swing.

"I am still."

Matt exhaled through his nose.

"No, you’re not. You’re-" He gestured vaguely toward her. "You'll fall from there."

She waved a limp hand in his direction.

"Whatever."

Matt groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. He had the idea that trying to argue with a drunk person was a lost cause, so instead of wasting his breath, he turned to the front door.

And then realized the next problem.

She wasn’t going to open it.

Because she was currently treating that wooden chair like it was a swing and she was a kid after school time.

Matt turned back to her, eyebrows raised.

"You got your keys?"

Y/N, still dramatically draped over the chair, gave him a lazy thumbs-up.

"Yup."

Matt stared at her expectantly.

She didn’t move.

Matt sighed.

"Okay. Where?"

Y/N blinked up at him. Then, as if the idea had just occurred to her, she pointed toward the black purse still dangling off his shoulder.

Matt stared at it, then back at her.

"Can I open it?"

Y/N, without even lifting her head, simply flicked her wrist in a dismissive gesture.

Matt huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.

"That’s not an answer."

She made the motion again, this time more dramatic.

Matt rolled his eyes but obeyed, carefully pulling the purse to the front of him and unzipping it. He was quick in the way he searched, making sure not to look too closely at whatever chaos was inside.

Luckily, it didn’t take long.

After just a few seconds, his fingers closed around a set of keys, the keychain a glittery pink monstrosity.

Matt smirked.

Shaking his head, he straightened up and moved to the front door, unlocking it with ease before turning back toward her.

And then came the next problem.

Because the second he reached out to help her stand, he realized just how much of a mess this was about to be.

Y/N, for all her earlier confidence, was absolutely useless on her feet now.

Like, actually useless.

The moment he pulled her up, she practically folded against him, her entire body weight leaning into his chest like she had no bones whatsoever.

"Jesus, dude." Matt barely had time to adjust, his arms scrambling to keep her upright. "You gotta help me here."

Y/N, her cheek now fully pressed against his shoulder, let out a content sigh.

"Mmm, comfy."

Matt let out a silent scream into the night.

This was impossible.

He couldn’t just drag her inside like some kind of caveman, and carrying her? Not happening. He wasn't the weakest, sure, but she was a whole human person.

So, instead, he opted for shuffling.

Painfully.

Slowly.

Awkwardly.

It was a process, but eventually, after what felt like an entire century, he managed to get her through the front door.

And the moment they stepped inside, he was hit with her world.

From the soft, warm lighting to the overflowing bookshelf in the corner to the cozy, mismatched cushions draped over the couch to the little Polaroid pictures stuck to the fridge.

It was lived-in, personal, comforting.

Matt blinked, taking it in for half a second before remembering the deadweight in his arms.

With a final exhale, he maneuvered them toward the big couch, practically collapsing with her as he eased her down, making sure she didn’t just flop like a ragdoll.

Once she was settled, he knelt beside her, hesitating before brushing some stray hair from her eyes.

"You good?"

Y/N, blinking sleepily up at him, nodded.

"Mhm."

Matt sighed, patting her knee.

"You should lay down."

Y/N huffed, but obliged, shifting so she could stretch out across the cushions.

Matt watched her for a second, waiting.

"You comfortable?"

Y/N, eyes half-lidded, gave him a slow, lazy grin.

"I would be more comfortable if you cuddled me, blue eyes."

Matt froze.

Yeah, okay. He should definitely go.

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The unforgiving brightness of the sun pierced through Y/N’s closed eyelids, an intrusive, blaring light that made her face scrunch in discomfort.

Weird.

Her room had blackout curtains, ones she had spent way too much money on to ensure that early mornings wouldn’t include the added torture of daylight exposure.

Her brows knit together, confusion settling in before she even opened her eyes.

And then, slowly, she did.

Only to be met with the wrong ceiling.

Y/N blinked, her brain sluggishly catching up to the fact that this was not her bedroom.

Then, she registered other things; her body feeling heavy under too many layers of clothes, the sticky sensation of dried makeup clinging to her skin, and, worst of all, the absolute tragedy happening inside her mouth.

She groaned, twisting her face in pure disgust. It tasted like something had died on her tongue, and she vaguely remembered drinking... tequila? And maybe some kind of mystery cocktail that some random stranger shoved at her, saying it was a "game changer".

A game changer in what? Making her suffer?

Y/N sat up, immediately regretting it as a sharp, pounding pain erupted behind her eyes. Jesus Christ.

She squeezed her eyes shut, hands pressing against her temples in an attempt to soothe the pain, but nothing helped. It was the kind of deep, bone-vibrating headache that made every movement feel like an earthquake inside her skull.

After a minute - or maybe five - she finally forced herself to function.

She opened her eyes again, and this time, she really looked around.

Oh.

She was in her living room.

The TV. The coffee table. The faint scent of her vanilla-scented candle that had long since burned out.

Right.

Her mind buzzed, trying to connect the blurry pieces of last night.

The party. The drinks. The decision to go home.

And then... the Uber driver.

Y/N frowned, blinking slowly.

Her eyes drifted downward, and that’s when she noticed the glass of water and the bottle of painkillers sitting neatly on the table.

Her brows lifted in surprise.

Wow.

So, not only did the Uber driver make sure she got home safely, but he also took care of her after the fact?

Because she knows her drunk version, and she couldn't even sit straight.

That was... suspiciously thoughtful.

Y/N shrugged to herself, grabbing the glass and the medicine without question, tossing the pill against her tongue and gulping down the water like her life depended on it. And, honestly? It kind of did. The cool liquid washed away the awful taste in her mouth, making her sigh in relief.

And then-

BRRRRRRING.

Y/N flinched, eyes snapping toward the sudden noise.

Her phone.

Where the hell was it?

She groaned, rummaging around the blanket that was still wrapped around her before realizing. Her purse.

She reached over, dragging it toward herself, and as soon as she dug inside, her fingers wrapped around her phone.

She unlocked it immediately, her eyebrows furrowing as she scanned the recent notifications.

And that’s when she saw it.

A string of messages from her Uber app.

Her actual Uber driver.

UBER: Your driver has arrived.

UBER: Your driver is waiting.

UBER: Your driver is still waiting.

UBER: Your driver will be leaving soon.

UBER: Your driver has canceled your ride.

Oh.

Oh.

Her brain stuttered, slowly putting the pieces together.

So... she didn’t get into her Uber last night.

She left the poor guy stranded outside the party, probably cursing her existence, while she happily hopped into some random car.

Shit.

Y/N blinked down at her screen, processing the absolute chaos of her life choices when something caught her eye.

A small, folded note - clearly from her very much old notebook above her TV table - sitting neatly beside her purse, right below her hands.

Her brows lifted again.

She reached for it, flipping it open while glancing back at her phone, her brain still half-focused on her Uber driver’s angry messages.

And then, as she read the words, her heart did a weird little thing in her chest.

"Call me whenever you need a cool Uber driver again. Or, y’know, if you just wanna talk."

- Matt

Y/N stared at the note.

Then back at her phone.

Then back at the note.

And finally, it clicked.

She hadn’t just gotten into a random car last night.

She had gotten into a random guy’s car.

A very cute, very cool random guy’s car.

And instead of kidnapping her or doing something worse, he drove her home, tucked her in, left her water and medicine, and even gave her his number?

Y/N stared at the note for a long second, brain short-circuiting.

Then, she let out a laugh - soft and disbelieving - before grinning to herself.

Well.

This was definitely going to be interesting.

[toyboy-molloy]

henry of skalitz, a peasant, shagging the local lord? he takes after his ma, bless him

[sparkykadachi]

I don't know why, but it's so funny to me that all the characters look like they belong in a Puppet Combo game, but then here's Alma looking perfectly fine and normal lol

My current fave trend is people posting "benchmark results" as you can see:

My personal favorite:

[bi-writes]

ok wait pause i have a question. first date, but like, real, you are my girlfriend date ? or like how'd they define their relationship (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

he's...fun.

it's just sex. mind-blowing, back-numbing, pussy-destroying sex. this man is pushing 40, and you swear you've never felt so out of breath. you convince yourself it's the military thing--he's used to pushing himself, exerting energy, testing the limits of his stamina. but holy shit, you'd think after round four, this man would take a quick nap or something, but no.

he's still balls-deep, hitting it from the back since you can't even keep yourself upright any longer. your skirt lays haphazardly thrown onto the floor, and oh--there's your panties, too, ripped to lacy shreds.

holy shit, this man is more than ten years older than you, and you've never been so out of your fucking mind--

"tha' the spot, love?" his voice is so condescending. he knows he's got you brainless. there's drool staining your lips, and you paw at the sheets for a better grip, but it's useless.

"y-yes, captain."

the low groan that leaves him makes you smile. he might have the upper hand, but if you really wanted to, you could make him come right now, too fast, too much.

you're in bliss. everything is bliss. you're still recovering from what must be the fifth or sixth orgasm--not as good as the second or third one, but still enough to make you cry fat, pleasured tears. you're shaking, in a good way, sinking to your stomach on the bed and pressing your face into his pillow.

"hmm..." your voice is soft and gooey, and when you take a deep breath, you get a long whiff of him. he smells good. clean. earthy. you tasted cigar smoke in his mouth earlier, and you can smell it here, too. just as you relax, you feel the weight of him on your back, and then his lips. he's kissing along your shoulder to your neck and then up your jaw. you tilt your head to give him room, your eyes shutting as his heard scruffs against your skin and his mouth laps at your chin. "i gotta go, john."

you giggle when he lays his entire body on top of yours, trapping you there. you reach up and grip the back of his neck, whining as he flattens his tongue against your jaw and swirls it there.

"john...i gotta go."

"why?"

"mmm..." you thumb at the hair along his scalp, shaking your head. "don't do this, john."

"not doing anythin'."

"we don't sleep over, john."

"what, is tha' some kind of rule? sounds mad."

you turn over a little, looking up at him. you cup his beard in both hands, giving him a chaste kiss.

"don't ruin it, john," you say softly. "this is supposed to be fun."

he tilts his head to the side. he looks so funny without a hat. you've seen him in a beanie, a boonie hat, a cap, you love them all on him. he looks nice like this, too, though--ass naked with his dog tags dangling against his sweaty pecs.

john's eyes twitch a little at your indifference. he settles on his side, leaning over you, and just as you move to get up, he reaches and grips at your face with a big paw of a hand. you clutch at his forearm, big and solid, and your lips pucker as he pulls you closer to him.

"y'r a bad liar, love," he mutters, shaking his head. "fear doesn't suit you."

"i'm not fucking scared."

"who was it?"

you glare up at him, struggling a bit under him. it's a stupid thing to think that you could get away from him. john is not moveable. he's a big fucking tree trunk of a man, with roots that burrow, and you are truly naïve if you think he'll let you up without an answer.

"shut the fuck up, john," you spit at him, but all he does is raise a brow. he's immune to your bite. he's not phased by your sour attempt at insulting him. in fact, it's what drew him to your bed in the first place--certified brat-tamer, captain john price. "you think you're so fucking smart. think you know everything, just because you've got a few years on me, well let me tell you, john--not everything is a fucking lesson learned. you're a military muppet with a decent cock, and that's all you'll ever be to me."

"tha' right?"

"you'll never put me first. you've got one woman, and that's the job, and that's fucking fine, john, but don't make this something it's not. you're lonely, and old, and your failed relationships don't make you wiser, they make you delusional for thinking that doing this again could ever--"

your breath falters when he kisses you. he squeezes your jaw a little harder, forcing your mouth to open, and you moan, squeezing your thighs together when he licks into your mouth and holds you there for him to play with.

"i do have other obligations. my men, the job..." he brushes the hair out of your eyes, and he presses his forehead to yours when he sees the tremble of your bottom lip and the wet look in your eyes. "but i don't do casual, sweetheart. it's all or nothing f'me."

your hand grips his wrist, squeezing tight, and you blink up at him. he's so close. he's right here. blue eyes, greying beard, a sad expression. he's not afraid of dying alone, but he is afraid of wasting time.

"please don't do this to me, john." your voice cracks, and he shrugs. he's sorry, but he's not sorry enough. not enough to let you go--and you're not strong enough to tell him no. it has to be him, but it won't be.

"it's alright," john whispers, but he knows it won't be. he's known you not but a few weeks, but he's made up his mind. he doesn't understand casual. even from the moment he saw you in that bar, it wasn't fleeting, it was definitive. it would be his. you would be his.

even if you were actually someone else's. even if you were bound to someone else. even if you weren't alone, it was already decided.

john's teeth are stuck here, right here, in the hollow of your throat. his fingers are twisted between the chords of your heart and in the spaces between your ribs. if he lets go, he'll break you apart.

so he's never going to let go.

[marscardigan]

freak like me

ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: since you started dating ellie, you always wanted to do something with her. so, when one day, she asks about your favorite fetishes, you decide to show her yourself.

word count: 0.9k

content warning: smut (minors dni), kind of exhibitionism(?, porn with plot, don't know what this is I just had to write it down

You loved your girlfriend. You loved how caring and understanding and kind she was. How she would never judge your actions, and how she always made you laugh.

You also loved how she supported every crazy idea that ran through your mind. But maybe this idea was sick and twisted.

But how could you lie to those pretty eyes? Ellie kept looking at you with a sly grin, cheeks flushed from her previous comment.

"C'mon babe, I already told you mine" she whined, hiding her pouty face in the crook of your neck.

You scoffed, "Ellie, you just said you like being praised while you fuck."

"So? It's still something that turns me on!" You could feel her shy smile hiding beneath your touch. "You need to tell me."

"Nah, I'll pass."

"Come on! Is it really that bad?" She looked at you like a kicked dog, caressing your inner thigh softly.

You closed your eyes, not wanting to see her face because you knew you would surrender. "It's so embarrassing."

"I'm sure I had worse thoughts, try me."

Her cold fingers touching your skin didn't help. At all. After opening your eyes and seeing her soft gaze towards you, you knew you were a goner.

Fuck it.

"I had like this thought about... Us making out on patrol..." Ellie kept her eyes locked on yours, shifting only to see your lips for a second. "While some infected are like... close to us? I-ugh, I don't know, it's fucking weird- I don't know why-"

Ellie's hand stopped right above your belly, making you dizzy. Both of you stayed quiet, but for different reasons.

You were so ashamed of saying that out loud, that you would've gladly died in that exact moment. Ellie, on the other hand, couldn't erase that dirty image from her head.

Neither of you spoke about it anymore, and you thought Ellie might have forgotten about it, but you were so wrong.

The next time you had patrol together was nine days later. Ellie counted them.

The plan was easy: clean infected from a mall close to Jackson. But the auburn had other plans. She'd have time to kill them after.

She promised you not to talk about it any time soon, but it was hard when it was all Ellie could think about.

When you first entered the mall, you killed a few from the first floor. But when you entered the parking, you could sense Ellie's focus was... indistinct, to say the least. On patrol, she was always behind you for security, but you could tell her eyes were definitely not on the possible threats. When you caught her staring at your ass for the second time, you knew this wasn't a coincidence.

"What are you thinking about?" Your funny tone only worsened the redness on her face.

Ellie could not believe how naive you sometimes were. "You should know what I'm thinking about."

Oh.

She smiled at your reaction. "Yeah, you know."

Was she teasing you know?

A clicking sound interrupted your conversation, and Ellie's smile only widened.

"Ellie." You warned, but she didn't notice the alert in your tone. She only noticed the need. She whispered your name back, grabbing your hips and trapped you between her body and the wall of the parking.

"You do remember what you told me the other day, right?" She whispered in your ear, making your legs shake.

You couldn't answer her, even if you really tried. You pushed your thighs harder against each other, almost moaning her name. Ellie whimpered.

"We should focus on the-ahm...the infected..."

Her hand ran lower every breath you took, getting closer and closer where you needed her the most. You kept calling out her name, and just before you close her eyes, you saw a clicker on the end of the hall. Ellie kissed you before you could alert her, and she kept swallowing every cry of pleasure your body echoed. Her knuckle kept brushing your panties as you nodded at her, the pleasure building inside your belly.

You were shamefully wet by the time she lowered your jeans. She laughed with pride at the sight, and looked up at you, her index finger brushing her lips. "You'll need to be quiet f'me, okay?"

You nearly came at the sight. You nodded, and brushed your fingers through her auburn locks. The finger that was just in her mouth brushed your core just the slightest, and you had to cover your mouth, but Ellie was quick to stop your action, shaking her head, “No-huh, baby, you need to keep making those pretty noises f’me.”

Her tongue slid through your cunt repeatedly, as if she was a starved woman. She grabbed roughly your thigh and pushed it above her shoulder, forcing you to keep it there.

A sob left your lips at the sight of Ellie on her knees, her strong arms making your whole body feel like jelly.

If you died here, you would die happy, you thought.

Your clit throbbed when she put the first finger, her eyes not leaving yours. The clicking sounds only made you harder to think about what was happening.

As she whimpered, her other hand between her legs, your walls finally broke down, and Ellie kept watching.

Your head was still numb when Ellie cleaned the corners of her lips, she pushed you gently and helped you put your jeans back, and a glass shattered.

A gasp sounded, and a clicker came running and-

A gunshot. Ellie’s grunt. The clicker fell right to the floor.

“Oh my god.”

“Shit, I think I came too.”

“Fuck off!”

[scribes-of-valar]

𝘉𝘰𝘺'𝘴 𝘢 𝘓𝘪𝘢𝘳

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| ᴄʟᴀʀᴋ ᴋᴇɴᴛ x fem! reader

「 ✦ A/N ✦ 」 I don't know what has creeped into my brain, but I've started rewatching the show and I literally wrote this in a day.

✬ summary ✬ Finally taking the plunge and ruining your friendship with Clark, you go on your first date but the next day he's acting like a whole new man. Not a good one. You don't know if your relationship can recover from his cruel behavior, but he's not going to give up so easily.

For the nth time, you stand before your mirror and find yourself dissatisfied. No outfit is right, each one is too little, too much, too slutty, not slutty enough. You haven’t even started on shoes yet, you would be in the grave before you were ready for this date. Throwing yourself down on your desk chair, you start tugging the stockings down your legs. 

You’re not sure why you thought tights would work during the peak of a Kansas summer, but you’re clearly not thinking much at all today. Head propped in your hand, you slump against the edge of your desk, fingers running idly over the scattered makeup on the surface. Even that hasn't gone right, your normal safeties failing you when you need them most. 

Maybe this was all a sign from the universe. You and Clark have been friends since you could walk, what if this stupid date was going to ruin everything between you?

Sighing, you reach for the only framed picture in your room. It’s silly, something Martha took when you were both too busy playing to see her. You and Clark, freshly five, sit around your old purple play table, the both of you covered in glitter and rocking some of the biggest tutus you’ve ever seen. You’re yelling at him in the picture, probably telling him to put his pinky up when he drinks his tea, and he’s just grinning at you.

It’s funny how that smile never changed. Something warm unfurls and blooms in your chest the longer you look at the picture. It’s Clark, he doesn’t care what you wear or if you’ve put on makeup or not. You both loved each other long before that was ever a problem, and it’s not going to start being one now. 

Sucking in a deep breath you put on the first outfit you’d picked out, a simple white sundress. You rarely get to wear it, anyway. Might as well test it out now. You check the mirror one last time just as someone knocks on your bedroom door. 

Clark calls out your name on the other side, sounding hesitant. “Sorry, um,” he chuckles and you can picture the way he must be nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “I got here a little early.”

You dart away from the mirror, kicking all the clothes under your bed. You slide the makeup into your desk drawer to be dealt with later. For now, you just need to make sure that he doesn’t see what a hot mess your room is. 

Sucking in a deep breath, you tug the hem of your dress down and shake off your worries. This is Clark. Your Clarkie, the boy you’ve tormented since you were a toddler. There’s nothing to worry about. 

“You’re always early, Clark,” you tell him with a soft smile as you open the door. 

His eyes widen slightly as he looks down at you. You did purposefully pick a dress that would emphasize certain aspects of yours. The pink flush on his cheeks is entirely worth it. Your eyes are drawn to the bunch of flowers in his hand and you grin. “Are those for me?” You gush, opening your door wider for him to step inside. 

“Yeah,” he holds them out to you, blue eyes stuck on yours. “I thought you might like them.” You bring them closer to your face, taking in the faint scent of the roses. 

“I love them, thank you,” you find yourself unable to stop smiling as you drop the roses in a glass of water by your bed. After building up your hopes and anxieties for a week because of this date, you're struggling to calm yourself down. 

Turning, you find him already looking at you with a soft smile that calms your racing heart just a bit. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a while,” he tells you, taking a step closer to you. His hands find your own, pulling you into him. “Not just the date,” he amends, smile stretching wider. “Asking you out. I think our friends were getting sick of listening to me talk about you all the time.”

You laugh, “I think they were getting sick of both of us. I feel so oblivious that it took me so long to realize you felt the same way.” 

He huffs, though his tone remains good-natured, “How do you think I feel?”

“Well,” you lace your fingers with his and step closer, “we’re doing it now, that’s what matters.” He ducks down and you feel your breath stutter, but he only leaves a brief kiss on your cheek, pulling back with a sheepish expression. A gentleman through and through. 

You’d never thought that knowing Clark for as well and as long as you have could be a bad thing. But now, sitting in The Talon and awkwardly dipping your fries in ketchup just to have something to do, you’re starting to realize it is. Being with each other nearly every day leaves you wanting for conversation. You both are already so caught up on what’s going on in each other’s lives that you’re struggling not to just bring up the weather. 

Clark groans and you startle, the noise breaking through the thick silence between you. He leans back in the booth, head resting on the edge and you find your eyes drawn to the strong muscles of his neck, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. 

Clearing your throat you glance away from him and push your plate away. “I didn’t want it to be like this,” Clark mutters, more to himself than you, but you hear him anyway. 

“It’s, well,” you pause, struggling for the words. Letting out a self-deprecating laugh, you shake your head. “I just don’t know what to do when we’re like this,” he peeks an eye open and you gesture between the two of you. 

His lips quirk up and he straightens once more. “I feel like I should be able to talk to you, same as always. But I don't know what to say, I don’t want to risk messing this up.” He trails off, glancing away from you and swallowing roughly. The same dreaded panic you’ve been feeling all week is thick in his voice. 

“Clark,” you utter his name lowly, reaching your hand out across the table. He’s slow to meet your eyes. “I feel the same way. We’re being stupid because I know that nothing you could say is going to change how I feel about you.” You narrow your eyes, taking on a teasing tone, “And you better feel the same way,” you scold. 

He huffs out a laugh, larger hand enveloping yours entirely and squeezing gently, “You know I do.”

You shrug, “Then we’re just being stupid, again,” you add, rolling your eyes. 

His eyes light up with mischief, a smile spreading as he stands from his seat. You jump back slightly, surprised by the sudden movement. “I’ve got an idea, come on,” he holds his hand out and you take it once more. 

You let out a surprised laugh as he takes off, dragging you out of the Talon behind him. “Where are we going?” 

He pauses for a moment, looking over his shoulder at you. It awes you, just how handsome he is. “It’s a surprise,” he winks and tugs you closer. 

“Your surprise is… the school?” You frown, taking Clark’s hand as he helps you down from the truck. 

“No,” he defends, shooting you a sarcastic look as he closes the door behind you. “We’re sneaking onto the field, like we used to. Maybe a little jog down memory lane will help,” he gives you a cheesy smile and you feel like you might melt.  

The sun hangs low on the horizon, its fading golden hues painting the sky in soft oranges and purples. The light catches in Clark’s hair, casting a warm halo around him. Sometimes he seems so overwhelmingly perfect that you wonder if you’ll ever be enough for him. Even when you were beginning to give up hope, he comes up with something so sweet, so thoughtful, that all you want to do is kiss him. 

Swallowing down the urge, you place your hand in his and let him lead you around the side of the school. “You know, we only used to do this to mess with the football players,” you tease. “Hard to do when you’re on the team, Clarkie.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Hey, we can still tear the seams on their jerseys- just not mine.” He throws you a grin, and it sends a rush of warmth through your chest.

The familiar path behind the school is darker now, but your steps fall in sync like muscle memory. The fence around the field looms ahead, a little more daunting than normal. It’s harder to climb in your dress, but Clark gives you a boost. One so strong you nearly fly over. 

Landing with a huff, you turn to glare at him as he pulls himself over with ease. “Too much torque in the thrust, Clark,” you grumble, brushing off your hands. 

He chuckles, throwing an arm over your shoulders as you both step onto the field. “Come on, we should get down there before the sun’s gone.”

Dew from the grass seeps its way into the thin fabric of your shoes as you walk toward the center of the field. The bleachers stand empty, the goalposts stretch high into the deepening sky, and for the first time tonight, you feel like you can take a breath. 

Clark shrugs off his jacket, laying it out on the grass and motioning for you to sit. You hesitate for a moment, but then you look down at the white fabric of your dress and decide you’re okay with sacrificing Clark’s jacket.

Clark lowers himself beside you, leaning back on his palms as he gazes up at the sky. The last streaks of sunlight fade, and one by one, the stars blink to life above you. You’ve always thought the sky above Smallville was different than anywhere else. As if the stars were reaching out to you. Considering your track record with meteors, it doesn’t seem that far off. 

For a while, neither of you speak. The quiet is comfortable, not at all like the stilted silence you’d felt in the diner. You’re content just being here with him, under the vast, endless sky. 

Clark is the first to break the peace. He shifts beside you, drawing in a slow breath as he disrupts the silence. “I’ve,” he hesitates on the word, “cared about you for a long time,” he admits, voice low and steady. “Longer than I ever told you.”

You glance over at him and find his gaze fixed on the stars. His jaw is tense, like he’s bracing himself for you to tell him this was all one big mistake and you’re better off as friends. A smile pulls at your lips at the ridiculous thought and you reach toward the small space between you both. Placing your hand over his, he finally looks at you. 

“I know things are,” he pauses, “a little weird between us right now.” He looks at your hand and flips his palm so he can lace your fingers together. “But I don’t want to lose what we have. If you’re willing to make it work, I am too.”

Your heart stutters, and for a moment all you can do is stare at him. At the boy who’s always been there, the boy who, despite everything, still makes your heart race. Your smile spreads, “Of course I’m willing,” you whisper. 

His breath hitches, and then he grins, the same grin that will never fail to make you lightheaded with infatuation.

Clark was meant to be here an hour ago. You’d made plans to go to a screening of some old movies at the theater. Sitting on the steps of your front porch, head propped in your hand, you look out at the farmlands around you. He only lives a few minutes away from you, you can’t fathom why he would be so late. 

You’d like to give him the benefit of the doubt, he’s not the type of guy to just leave you hanging. But there’s something humiliating about sitting out here all on your own. The wind has already fussed and ruined the hairstyle you’d so meticulously worked on. You’d already missed half of one of the movies. And the sun is beginning to set. 

Part of you is begging to just go inside and give up, but you're more stubborn half won't give in. Clark isn't like this, he wouldn't do something like this without good reason. 

A rumble sounds down the highway and your head perks up, crestfallen look replaced with something more hopeful. Getting to your feet, you grimace at the pins and needles tingling down your legs. Walking down the steps and getting a good look at the approaching motorcycle, your stomach plummets. 

Not Clark, then, though it’s odd to see someone beside you or the Kent’s driving on this stretch of road. Your hand tightens around the hem of your tank top as the motorcycle begins to slow as it approaches your house. Heart picking up, you take a step back toward the safety of the porch. 

Maybe they just need directions or maybe…

Your brain breaks for a moment as the rider pulls into your driveway. 

Maybe they’re Clark. 

Your jaw drops as he shoots you a smarmy grin, getting off his father’s bike and striding toward you with a swagger you’re unused to. “Hiya, sweetheart." You take a step back from him, brows furrowed. 

“Clark,” you spit his name out in shock, eyes darting between him and the bike. Knowing that he’s not dying somewhere in a ditch, your anger at being left waiting surges forth. “You’re an hour late because you were busy stealing your dad’s bike?” You demand, trying to ignore just how good he looks leaning against the post of your porch in that ridiculous leather jacket. 

“Sure,” he chuckles and rolls his eyes, brushing past you and heading back to the bike. “That’s why,” he snaps, like you’re slow. He straddles the bike and nods you forward. “You coming or not?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you glance between him and the front door of your house. Again, giving him the benefit of the doubt, you choose to get on the back of the bike. Maybe this is all just one big act that he’s putting on to surprise you with something at the theater. 

He turns the key and you frown, “Helmet?” You ask weakly. He doesn’t respond, just laughs and peels out of your driveway. You squeal, grabbing on tight to his waist and burying your face in his back. 

This isn’t an act, and this definitely isn’t Clark. But whoever he is, you just got on the back of his motorcycle like an idiot. 

With every turn and rev of the bike, you prepare to feel the pavement beneath your palms. Still, as reckless and nauseating as his driving is, he manages to get you here in one piece. Though, where here is, you’re not sure. 

Clark swings off the bike effortlessly, grinning over his shoulder at a group of girls walking into the building behind him. He doesn’t seem to notice, or care, about the way your hands still tremble from the ride. You’d been too busy clutching onto him for dear life to pay any attention to where you were going and you’re starting to regret it. 

The building is nothing more than dirtied brick, the faded neon sign above the door advertising beer and live music. The bass thumps from inside, vibrating the gravel beneath your feet. From within, you hear jeering shouts, the telltale sounds of a crowd on the verge of chaos.

“Clark,” despite his odd behavior, you still find yourself stepping toward him and holding tight to his hand. The sheltered life of Smallville hasn’t exactly prepared you for backwoods, seedy bars. “Where are we?” You peer up at him and the glint in his eyes makes your stomach clench with trepidation. 

“Oh,” he laughs, tugging you toward the entrance, “you’re gonna like this,” he swears. Despite the way you dig your heels into the dirt, he keeps pulling, giving you no choice but to follow him into the bar. 

The air changes as you step inside, it’s worse than you thought it would be. Thick with heat and smoke, it pulses with the heavy bass of a song you don’t recognize. Multicolored lights flash across the writhing bodies on the dance floor. The scent of spilled beer, sweat, and something sticky clings to the air. 

Your fingers tighten around Clark’s arm as he moves forward, practically wrapping yourself around him. He weaves through the crowd like he belongs here. If you let go now, you know he wouldn’t stop, he’d just keep going, leaving you all alone in a place you want no part of.  

Clark drags you to the edge of the bar and slips a crumpled twenty across the counter. Wordlessly, and without checking for IDs, the bartender slides over two beers. Clark grabs one and to your utter shock, tilts it back, downing one long gulp. 

“You gonna stand there watching me,” he challenges, “or are you finally going to let loose and have some fun?”

“No, Clark, I’m not drinking. And neither should you! You’re driving us back,” you snap, eyes darting around the seedy crowd. 

Settling the half-empty bottle on the counter, he smirks, “Relax. We’re here to have a good time,” his tone almost sounds like a threat. Have a good time or else…

His gaze flickers toward the dance floor and your heart sinks at the mischief in his expression. “And I know exactly how to help you loosen up.”

Again, he gives you no time to protest or even form an opinion before he grabs you and pulls you toward the center of the dance floor. You feel like a leashed dog, no choice but to obey. 

The music shifts into something darker, slower, a sultry beat thrumming through the air. It charges the atmosphere of the dancers and the crowd sways, bodies pressed tightly together as they move with the rhythm. 

“Clark,” you glance around at the writhing bodies and swallow thickly. “I don’t-”

“Just one dance,” he cuts you off smoothly, voice low and coaxing. His lips curl up in a gentle smile as his hands find your waist. His grip is tight but not uncomfortable as he helps move your hips into the rhythm of the song. “Trust me.”

You hesitate, but it’s easier than you thought to simply fall into the slow, lazy grind of the dance. Your body moves in sync with his, despite the apprehension tightening through you. There’s something wrong with him, that’s clear enough. This isn’t the Clark you know, this is some bold, almost predatory version of him. 

One of his hands drifts up from your waist, dragging the hem of your thin tank top up slightly as his fingers brush against the nape of your neck. A shiver runs down your spine as his grip tightens, tilting your head back. You press your hands against his chest, eyes rounding in confusion. 

“Clark,” you whisper his name, breathless from the proximity. “What are you-”

He cuts you off, voice rough and breath warm against your lips, “Finally taking what I want.” His head dips down, lips capturing your own. It’s not the soft, gentle first kiss you’d always imagine you would share with him. This is hard, demanding. 

He’s claiming you, marking his territory as he slips his hand lower on your waist. He pulls you flush against him, hips pressing against yours. A heat slowly spreads in you, but it's overshadowed by the overwhelming feeling that this isn’t Clark. 

You push against his chest and you know he lets you go, the situation still under his control. He backs off with an irritated look, eyes narrowed down at you. 

Your breath comes in quick, uneven gasps as you stare up at him. “What the hell, Clark?”

“What’s your problem?” He snaps, hand flexing around your neck before dropping to his side. 

“You,” you hiss, eyes narrowing. “You’re not yourself, Clark.”

His jaw tenses, fists clenching by his side as he takes a step back from you. “Why? Because I’m finally doing what I want?” His voice is sharp, it bites at the fraying edges of your patience. The music around you picks up pace and somebody slams into you from behind. 

With a pained gasp, you stumble forward, rubbing the sore spot where their elbow had slammed into your ribs. Clark watches it all with a bored look. Gone is the gentle, considerate boy you’ve known your whole life. This boy before you is reckless and selfish, you don’t want anything to do with him. 

His attention flickers past you and you turn to follow his gaze. A pretty blonde sways in the middle of the dance floor, hips moving gracefully as her laughter rings above the music. Without a word or a second glance, he steps around you, striding toward her with the same effortless confidence he just used on you. 

Frozen by disbelief and anger, you watch as he slides a hand around her waist, murmuring something in her ear that makes her giggle. The crowd shifts again, blocking your view of the two. It’s for the better as you suck in sharp breaths, trying to keep the tears at bay. 

A lump clogs your throat and you rush toward the back of the bar, hoping there might be a bathroom to hide in. You just need a second away from the sweat and noise of the dancers. You stumble through a stained door and slam it closed behind you, wiping desperately at the tears rolling down your cheeks. 

After splashing cold water over your face and simply standing in there for a few minutes, you finally feel stable enough to go back outside. You’re just going to ask Clark to take you home and then you hope you never have to see him again. 

But when you return to the dance floor, heart still pounding its way up your throat, you can’t find Clark. You can’t even find the blonde. He’s acting like a jackass, but there’s no way he would just leave you. 

Right?

You rush outside, your stomach dropping like a stone when you see the parking lot. The motorcycle is gone. 

He left you behind. 

“Thank you,” your gaze stays trained on your hands, not ready to look at Lex. You feel his stare boring into the side of your head before he turns back to the road. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m glad you called me instead of trying to get home on your own.” He pauses, hand tightening on the steering wheel as he takes in a deep breath. “But what were you doing in a place like that?”

You slump in the passenger seat, rubbing a tired hand over your face. All you want to do is go home and wash this night away. You’re hesitant to tell him the truth, knowing he might give Clark hell for leaving you there. A part of you is still primed to protect him, but the other part, the one that was just left behind, can’t care. 

“Clark,” you tell him and his head whips around so fast you’re surprised you don't hear it snap. “He was acting weird tonight. Took me there and then left with another girl.”

“Are you serious?” He demands, sounding angry on your behalf. Right now, though, you don’t have the energy for anger. “Clark wouldn’t do that.”

You suck in a deep breath and finally look at him, “The one I know wouldn’t,” you offer vaguely, ignoring his confused expression. “Honestly, I just want to get home and never talk to him again.”

Lex chuckles a little, “You don’t mean that.”

“Try me,” you snap, glaring out the window. You’re debating calling Clark’s dad and telling him that Clark took the bike. If not just for petty revenge. Just the thought of it makes you feel tired. 

“I’m sure,” Lex starts, already sounding like he doesn’t believe himself, “he had a perfectly reasonable explanation for what he did.” You roll your eyes, giving him a deadpan look. His hand lifts slightly off the wheel in surrender. “There’s no excuse,” he amends.

“No, there’s not.” The car rolls to a stop and you look out the window, surprised to already be at your house. The porch light is off, your parents must already be asleep. “I really can’t thank you enough,” you tell Lex, offering him a weak but grateful smile. 

He waves you off, “Forget it, I’m glad I could help. If you ever need anything else…” He trails off, leaving the offer open-ended. 

You nod, opening the passenger door and stepping out. You’re just about to close it when something occurs to you. Clark always gives you a ride to school, you’re not going to have a way to get there after tonight. 

“Oh,” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose in irritation. 

“What’s wrong?” Lex looks concerned and you offer him an apologetic grimace. 

“I actually do need something,” you tell him, sheepish and pleading. 

Clark wakes up with a fog clouding his mind, a dull pounding behind his eyes. Vague flashes of memory flicker through the haze. The sound of your upset voice, the thrum of music, and the feeling of your body pressed against his. It makes his cheeks flush with warmth, but none of it connects for him. Everything’s one frustrating blur. 

But he can figure that out later, his gaze drifts toward the clock on his nightstand and his eyes widen. He leaps off the bed, nearly tripping as he gets wrapped up in his sheets. He was meant to pick you up ten minutes ago. 

Clark throws on the first clothes he finds, raking a hand through his messy hair as he bolts down the stairs. His backpack is nearly left by the door as he rushes out. If he could, he’d run you to school. It would be so much faster, so much easier. But that would require explaining why he could do that, and he doesn’t think you’d appreciate him springing the truth of his abilities on you this early in the morning. 

You’re not exactly a morning person. 

He speeds down the road, the truck’s tires kicking up dust as he pulls into your driveway. Throwing the truck in park he doesn’t even bother cutting the engine before leaping out. Two steps at a time, he bounds up your front porch and knocks firmly on the door. 

His foot taps against the wood of the porch as he checks the watch on his wrist. If you hurry, you might both be able to make it to first period on time. After a minute of silence he knocks again, but he’s greeted with the same silence. 

He steps back, brows knitted together, and his gaze flickers toward the front window. He ignores the feeling of being a complete creeper as he peers through the glass. The house looks unnaturally still, none of your usual morning mess as you rush to get ready on time. The lights are off and he can’t hear anything inside. 

Your parents are usually gone before you even wake up. He can’t think of anyone else who would give you a ride. Or why you would even have anyone else drive you. A strange unease coils in his stomach and another brief memory flashes through his mind. It’s not much, just a pretty blonde smiling up at him. 

Jaw tightening, Clark turns back to his truck, climbing inside and heading straight for school. He’s sure everything’s fine. You probably had Chloe or Lana pick you up. Still, even with him being ten minutes late, he’s not sure how they would have gotten to your house before him. 

Pulling into the parking lot he frowns, greeted first thing in the morning by Lex’s ridiculously overpriced sports car. It’s parked right in front of the entrance and he wonders what business Lex would have at the high school. 

The passenger door opens and you step out, your bag slung over one shoulder. You turn to Lex, smiling as you give him a sweet wave. Clark watches it all with his shoulders tensed as something sharp and hot twists in Clark’s chest. 

He watches as Lex pulls out of the parking lot, jaw clenched in irritation. He throws the truck into park and gets out, heading toward the front doors. Inside, the hallways seem more crowded than usual but he still manages to make you out almost instantly. 

You’re at your locker, pulling out books as if nothing’s wrong. As if you didn’t get a ride with Lex Luthor and ditch him for seemingly no reason at all. 

Clark makes a beeline for you, tightening his grip on his backpack as he stops beside your locker. “Hey,” he calls, forcing a smile. “Did I miss something? I thought I was picking you up this morning.”

You don’t even bother looking at him, eyes stubbornly pointed forward. “Guess I made other plans.”

The coldness in your voice stops him in his tracks. His stomach drops, smile faltering as you continue to pretend there’s anything more for you to grab from your locker. “Okay…” He exhales slowly. “Did something happen?”

You slam your locker shut and he jumps. Whipping around to face him, your eyes are dark with anger as you glare up at him. “Really?” You snap and his eyes widen in surprise. “This is what you’re doing, pretending you don’t remember?”

Clark blinks, thrown off by the heat in your voice. “I-”

“Forget it,” you cut him off. You shake your head, looking tired. “Just leave me alone, Clark. Seems to be something you’re good at, anyway.” You whip around, storming off down the hall and leaving him reeling. He wants to go after you but you’re already slipping into your English class and he knows there’s no way he’ll be able to talk to you in there. 

He hovers in the hallway, stunned. What the hell happened last night?

His mind races, grasping at the fleeting memories. There was a bar, he’s not even sure how he found that place. He was dancing with you and then kissing you. His eyes widen at that, grimacing at the blurred memory of your rough first kiss. He’d been hoping for something a little sweeter than some backwoods bar. 

He remembers you being angry at him but that’s it. There are holes and gaps that he can’t remember no matter how hard he tries. There’s only one thing that could explain the reckless behavior, the memory gaps, and the way he felt like someone else.

Red kryptonite. 

His heart sinks and his head falls into his hands. He hurt you and probably scared you. You don’t even want to look at him now. Straightening up, he runs a hand through his hair and tries to think of a way to fix all of this. 

He’s not sure he can, not when he can’t even remember what he’s done to you. 

Admittedly, ambushing you outside of class probably wasn’t the best way to go about this. But he needed to make sure you couldn’t run from him. You walk out the door, books clutched to your chest, and head down. 

Clark falls into step beside you and you briefly glance up, rolling your eyes when you realize it’s him. You pick up your pace, clearly trying to put space between the both of you. “Wait,” he calls, stepping in front of you. “One chance to explain, please.”

You stop in the middle of the hall, uncaring to the students parting around you. “Clark-”

“I don’t remember everything,” he admits, voice low and desperate as he pushes through your objection. “But I know something happened. And I need to fix this.”

Exhaling sharply, you can’t seem to meet his eye. “There’s nothing to fix.”

That can’t be true. He won’t let that be true. “Please,” he presses. “Just… one chance.”

For a moment, you hesitate, teeth pressing into your lower lip as you take a step back from him. “Fine,” you relent, sounding wholly reluctant. “We’ll talk after school.”

Relief floods through him and he finally manages a real smile for the first time all morning. “Okay,” he utters, trying not to sound surprised. “Great, I’ll drive you home, and-”

“No,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “Lex is giving me a ride,” he opens his mouth to protest and you shoot him a sharp look. His jaw snaps closed and he sighs. “I’ll meet you at your house later,” you tell him, leaving no room for argument. 

His stomach twists as you turn and walk away. Lex, he scoffs and shakes his head. When did the two of you get close? One bad night and you’re already done with him?

The thought should fill him with anger, but it only makes his worry grow. Whatever he had done last night must have been truly awful. He hates that there’s a chance he won’t be able to fix this. But what makes it worse is knowing that it’s all his fault.

Clark’s in his room when he hears you pull up to the house. He doesn’t waste any time as he heads down the stairs. “What happened to ‘I never want to see him again?’” Clark has no shame as he listens to your conversation. He doesn’t appreciate how comfortable Lex sounds teasing you. 

“Yeah, well,” your voice loses its muffled edge as you open the passenger door. “I deserve an explanation.”

“Call me if you need anything,” Lex tells you as Clark opens his front door. Rolling his eyes, Clark jogs down the steps of his porch, heading toward you both. You turn over your shoulder, smile falling as you nod your head in greeting. 

Clark’s waited forever to finally tell you how he really feels about you. Years of pining all led to that one moment where you told him that you feel the same way. He’d finally gotten a chance with you, to be with you like he always wanted. He’s not going to let last night ruin everything. 

“Thanks, Lex,” you mutter, closing the passenger door and marching toward Clark. Lex lingers for a moment and Clark sends him a stiff smile and wave. Lex returns it with a smirk before driving off. 

“So,” arms crossed across your chest, you glance up at him with barely veiled apprehension. “Are we going inside?”

Clark glances back at his house and shakes his head. He holds his hand out to you and you give him a wary glare. “Please,” he asks, and after a moment you place your hand in his. He smiles and leads you to the barn. 

Call it nostalgia, call it desperation but whatever compelled you to actually hear Clark out can go bite it. He abandoned you at a club in a town you hadn’t even heard of. To go be with another girl, no less. You shouldn’t have even stopped to listen to him in the hallway. It’s a lack of self-respect, really. 

But there was something in his eyes that compelled you to stay. Last night, he’d been a stranger wearing Clark’s face. This morning, you saw the earnest sincerity you always do when you look into those pretty blue eyes of his. Giving in was an inevitability. 

Walking the familiar path to the barn you’re struck with a feeling almost like grief. Whatever could have bloomed between you and Clark feels like sand falling through your fingers. Unless he’s about to open those doors and reveal an evil twin, you’re not sure you could ever forgive him. 

Clark glances over his shoulder at you, a gentle smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He throws the doors of the barn open and you roll your eyes at the dramatics. You slip past him and head inside, stopping short once you see what he’s done. 

Fairy lights dangle above the loft, illuminating what looks like a poorly built blanket fort. Christmas lights he clearly stole from his mom are hung haphazardly from the rafters. You can see the effort he put into making the barn feel special, even if the execution is lacking.

It’s the nostalgia of it all that makes you smile. Summer’s spent camping out in the barn, hidden away under blanket forts, and trying to scare each other with your bad ghost stories. It’s a time capsule of your childhood. And you know what he’s trying to do, how he’s trying to soften the hard edges of your resentment. You hate that it’s beginning to work. 

Clark heads up to the loft first, glancing over his shoulder and motioning for you to follow. You sigh, face blank as you work to keep up the cool exterior you feel slowly melting away. He offers his hand as you reach the top, and after a beat of hesitation, you reluctantly take it. 

Clark pulls you forward and keeps your hand in his as he leads you to sit down across from him. Sinking back into the plush pillows and blankets you prop your head in your hand, watching him with a bored expression. Sucking in a deep breath, he rubs his hands along the surface of his jeans, avoiding your eyes for a moment. 

“I didn’t want our first kiss to be in some bar.” He chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck before finally meeting your eyes. “I didn’t want our first anything to be there. I wanted it to be somewhere like this, somewhere that actually meant something to us.” 

His throat bobs as he swallows. Then he leans closer, reaching across the space between you, his fingers curling around yours again. The warmth of his palm is comforting, even if you don’t let him see that. “I don’t want to lose my best friend. I don’t want to lose you, you have to believe me. What happened last night, it wasn’t me.”

Your expression hardens and you yank your hand from his, putting distance between you. Clark’s face flickers with hurt, but you ignore it. “Why should I believe anything you say, Clark? What happened last night was an eye-opener. Clearly, we’re better off just being friends.”

He sucks in a sharp breath, looking like you’ve just punched him in the gut. “You don’t mean that,” he murmurs. 

“Don’t I?”

Clark drops his head into his hands, fingers threading through his hair. His shoulders curl inward, and for a long while, he doesn’t speak. The silence between you stretches, thick with unspoken words. 

Maybe it would be better for you to just leave. Some space might do both of you good, and help you come to terms with the truth of it all. 

This was never going to work. 

Clark exhales slowly, then straightens, blue eyes meeting yours with an intensity that catches you off guard. “Alright,” he nods, some internal battle going on that you’re not privy to. “Stand by the window.”

Your brows furrow and you shake your head. “What?”

“Do it,” he tells you, tone firm, and you find yourself struggling for a reason not to listen. Finally, with a reluctant huff, you get up and go stand by the window. 

The golden fields stretch before you bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. The wheat sways gently in the evening breeze. Utterly boring and un-fascinating. 

You roll your eyes, “Clark, I swear-” 

A distant whistle cuts through the air. You whip around, expecting to see Clark behind you and instead find the loft empty. Your stomach tightens and you turn back to the window. A flicker of movement catches your attention, “What the…”

You press against the window, squinting at the field below. That’s when you see him. A very small Clark waves from the middle of the wheat, far too distant for how quickly he got there. Your breath catches and you find yourself waving back without thinking. 

There’s no possible way he crossed all that in under thirty seconds. 

But he’s not satisfied with just an impressive show of speed. Clark disappears and then reappears right below the barn window. Only, he’s not alone. 

Above his head, with terrifying ease, he’s holding a goddamn tractor. Your heart slams against your ribs. “Clark!” You shout, terrified this little stunt of his is going to end with him sandwiched into the dirt. He sets it down casually, as if it weighs nothing. 

A gust of wind pushes your hair forward and you turn sharply. Clark stands behind you now, cheeks flushed, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. ���What the hell was that?” You demand, eyes darting between him and the tractor outside.

“It’s what I wanted to tell you. What I’ve always wanted to tell you,” he concedes, his smile faltering slightly, his voice tinged with something vulnerable. 

Still stunned, you sink onto the couch as he begins to explain. About the crash landing. About his powers. How he’s different.  

Your best friend- your almost-boyfriend, is an alien. 

Of all the things racing through your mind, only one question comes to mind. “Why have you never told me?” You don’t ask him if he was from Jupiter or Mars, or if he’s got a secret eye hidden somewhere. You just want to know why he didn’t think he could trust you. 

Clark hesitates. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he says, “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me anymore. That you’d see me as some freak.”

You snort, “You’re an idiot is what you are.”

 His head snaps up, blinking at you in surprise. “Clark, why would I ever care about what planet you’re from?” You shake your head, a smile creeping onto your lips as you shift forward, kneeling in front of him. Your hands find his, squeezing slightly. Then, hesitantly, you reach up, cupping his cheek. A smile spreads across your face as he leans into the touch. “I care about you, not about what rocket you crash-landed in.”

“More of a pod,” he corrects and you shoot him a sharp look that makes him laugh. He sobers quickly, smile fading, “I understand if you can’t forgive me for last night.”

“Well,” you muse, tilting your head. “It wasn’t really you, right? It was that krypto- karo-”

“Kryptonite,” he grins a little at the way you stumble over the word. “And, yes, it was. I would never purposefully hurt you, but it’s not an excuse.”

“It’s actually the only acceptable excuse,” you tell him, rolling your eyes playfully. “That or evil twin.” Clark’s eyes widen slightly and you narrow yours. “Do you actually have an evil twin?” You shake your head, “Never mind, we’ll talk about that later.”

You glance up at the twinkling lights strung above, the warm glow making the loft feel impossibly soft, impossibly safe. “Clark?” You ask and he hums, already looking at you when you glance back at him. “We can always try that first kiss again.”

His smile, soft and sweet, mirrors your own. As you lean in, his arms circle your waist, pulling you gently into him. Your fingers thread through the soft tresses of his hair as his lips brush against yours, soft, lingering, right. 

This. This is what you knew it would feel like. This is home and safety, everything good in your life. You smile against Clark’s lips knowing that no matter what evil twins or toxic rocks come at you, you’ll face it together.

end. — I do not own the characters or the TV Show Smallville, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © scribes-of-valar 2025. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[kiszjuli]

LOVE BET .ᐟ

✸ bestfriend!jisung x fem!reader | genre. fluff | w.c. 2.5k | ♡

↳ synopsis. you and your bestfriend jokingly make a bet that whoever doesn't get a valentine has to pay for dinner at you guys' favorite restaurant, which is quite expensive. as valentine's day approaches, you both realize that you don't exactly like the idea of the other person going out with someone..

↳playlist. love - keyshia cole. lucky girl - red velvet. affection - between friends. like we just met - nct dream. better than gold - nct dream. off my face - justin bieber.

it was currently february 1st, meaning all of the bright pink and red decorations were already decorated around your campus. you found yourself in the, abnormally loud and chaotic cafeteria, you were waiting at your designated seats for your best friend, jisung, and as you waited you looked around. Glancing from the pink flyers to the red heart shaped balloons, and everything else in between. jisung plopped down with a sigh in front of you. "it looks like cupid threw up in here," you muttered, opening your pack of cookies. jisung's lips quirked up into a boyish grin as he settled in his seat. "what, jelous of all the love in the air?"

"it's not that," you said offering him a cookie, which he gladly took. "it's just...valentine's day is so overrated. why spend one single day to prove your love when you could just like─not suck the rest of the year?"

laughing, jisung spoke again. "god, you're such a romantic, no wonder you're still single," rolling your eyes you glare at him. "you're one to talk. when was the last time you tried to talk to someone you like?"

jisung's face flushed a little. "hey, i talk to people!"

"not what i asked," you say flatly, then lean across the table. "name one person you've flirted with in...the past year," you say thinking for a second.

as if really trying to think, he furrows his brows and looks at the table. "exactly," you laugh. "alright, how about you then? i don't remember hearing about you having a valentine," he raised a brow, challenging you back and sitting up in his seat.

your confidence wavered a little, but didn't let it show, "oh please, i could get asked out if i wanted to,"

"oh yeah? could you?"

you reached for a fry on your tray and threw it at him. he tried to block the fry, it falling to his lap as he laughed at you. "i'm just saying," he shrugged. "all this big talk, yet you're in the same boat as me,"

a smirk spreads across your face, as you get an idea. "fine, you know what? how about, whoever doesn't get themselves a valentine, has to buy the other dinner at our favorite restaurant. deal?"

this time it was jisung’s turn to falter a little. “are you seriously betting on this?”

you shrugged. “why not? scared of losing?” you teased.

those words were all it took for his competitive side to kick and and he straighted up once again. “fine. you’re on.” he reached out his his hand and you took it firmly. “prepare to lose park jisung,” you smiled your gaze locked on his. “i’m about to eat so much pasta,”

he smirked, his hand lingering in yours for a second longer than necessary. “we’ll see about that.”

little did the both of you know, that stupid little bet was about to change everything.

—

it’s a quiet afternoon, after school. you and jisung were hanging out at your favorite café. the place was a little busy with people, but you are just enjoying the usual, comfortable silence. that is, until a guy from one of your classes walks in. you notice him immediately. he was a generally friendly guy, always talking to everyone. he notices you and walks over to your table.

“hey!” he says, making his way over. “what’s up? haven’t seen you around lately.”

you stand to greet him, talking easily as you always do. you’re genuinely enjoying the conversation. he was funny, charming, and always has something interesting to say—never really an awkward pause. you laugh at a joke he tells, and just for a second, you forget jisung is even there.

jisung, however, hasn’t missed a thing.

he watches from his seat, his grip on his cup tightening just slightly. the way you and the guy are laughing, how easily you two got along. it was too comfortable. jisung tries to focus on his phone, but his eyes keep flicking back to you. there’s something in the way the guy looks at you, a little too interested, and jisung feels a pang in his chest. trying to brush it off, he settles with the fact that it’s because you might be winning the bet; for now.

jisung was trying to focus on his phone, scrolling through something meaningless, but the smile on your face. the way you leaned in a little closer to the guy as you talked. it was starting to bother him more than he’d like to admit. it’s dumb, he knows it’s dumb, but he can’t help the flicker of frustration in his stomach. you’re supposed to be just friends. but suddenly, the idea of someone else being interested in you feels… wrong.

he feels like he can ignore him and focus on his phone until the guy laughs again—louder this time, with a hand on your shoulder. he feels his blood start to simmer.

“so, uh, i was thinking about going to see a movie this weekend. wanna go?” the guy asks, his tone light, like it’s no big deal.

you smile, looking a little surprised. “oh, uh, sure! sounds fun.”

jisung’s fingers tighten around his phone, his knuckles almost turning white. the guy’s eyes flicker over to him, then back to you, and jisung doesn’t miss the way the guy raises an eyebrow, sizing him up. it’s a subtle look, but it makes jisung’s jaw clench. he new what the guy was doing, and so did he.

the guy turns to leave, his attention shifting away from you, but before he walks off, he looks back one last time. “see you later, yeah?”

“yeah, definitely!” you call after him, still smiling.

as soon as the guy walks away, jisung can’t hold it in anymore. he stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor louder than usual. “i’m gonna get some air,” he mutters, as he begins to step away.

you glance at him, a little startled. “wha-? jisung, what’s wrong?”

he shakes his head, brushing you off. “nothing. just need some air.”

before you can say anything else, he’s walking out of the café, leaving you behind. you stare after him, confused and a little concerned. what was that about?

you sigh and lean back in your chair, a little unsure of what just happened. you know jisung, and you know that wasn’t just about needing air. you weren’t even doing anything to provoke him. but something about the way he left makes you feel like maybe he’s… bothered.

you pull your phone out, sending him a quick message:

hey, u good?

a few moments later, he replies.

yeah, i’m fine,

but you can tell something’s off. you don’t press him right now, but the conversation with the guy you just had lingers in your mind. was it just your imagination, or did jisung seem…jealous?

—

the following day, you seem to ironically have a similar experience.

you walk into the library after second period, expecting to find jisung buried in his usual corner, headphones in and his nose buried in a textbook. but instead, you stop in your tracks when you see him sitting at a table with a girl from your class, one you’ve seen around but don’t really know. she’s leaning over his shoulder, pointing at a page in her notebook, and jisung is explaining something, his hand moving across the page to help her with the assignment.

hesitating for a moment, not wanting to interrupt, something in your chest tightens when you see how naturally they’re talking, how comfortable she looks in his presence. she was pretty close to him, her shoulder brushing his as she leans in. it feels like your heart sinks a little, and you swallow the lump in your throat.

the way jisung is smiling, the way he’s so focused on her… it’s the same way he looked when he helped you with schoolwork, but this time, it’s different. this time, there’s something more, something you hadn’t expected. the sight stings, even though you know it shouldn’t. it’s not like you have any claim over him, and he’s probably just being a good friend, but the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach won’t go away.

you stand there for a moment, not sure what to do. a small part of you wants to walk away, pretend you didn’t see it, but another part of you, feels like you’ve been punched in the chest. you had no idea why.

just like jisung had felt the day before when you laughed with that guy at the café, you feel that same pang of jealousy now. and it’s so much more than you were expecting. maybe you understood his reaction a little more now.

after what feels like an eternity, you turn around and walk out of the library before you can let any of those feelings show. you tell yourself it’s ridiculous, that you have no reason to feel this way, but the image of jisung laughing with her sticks in your mind, making it impossible to shake the feeling.

—

it was now valentine’s day, and when you got the text from jisung asking to come over and talk, you assume it’s about the bet. about how he didn’t find the valentine he kept claiming he find. and you would tell him the same, that you were both valentine-less. you figured you’d laugh about it and go about your days. everything would go back to normal and you wouldn’t have to see him around talking to other girls and feeling that awful sting in the pit of your stomach.

but as he arrives to your place, the look on his face making you nervous. he sits on your couch and you follow him, cradling your legs to yourself as you sat.

the soft hum of the city outside the window barely audible as you sit together in the living room. despite the seemingly comfortable silence between you two, there’s something else in the air—a tension neither of you has been able to shake for days.

jisung’s, hands fidget in his lap, his eyes darting around the room like he’s searching for something, trying to find the right words. you could tell he’s been holding something back, and it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore the way he keeps glancing at you, like he’s trying to figure out how to speak what’s been on his mind for so long.

“hey,” you say softly, breaking the silence, “is everything okay?”

he glances at you, but his gaze is distant—like he’s caught between saying something and not saying anything at all. you wait for him to respond, the anticipation weighing heavily in the room.

“i’ve been thinking a lot,” he begins, his voice quieter than usual, which spikes your curiosity. he exhales slowly. “about everything… with the bet, with us. and i’ve realized something. something i think i’ve been running from for a really long time.”

you sit up a little, your heart beating faster as you focus entirely on him. his tone was serious, the vulnerability in his voice making your chest tighten with both concern and curiosity.

“i’ve been… avoiding it,” jisung continues, his words coming out in a rush. “for years. i kept telling myself it wasn’t anything. that we were just friends. that it didn’t mean anything. but the truth is, i’ve been denying it for so long because I was scared... of what would happen if i admitted it. if i admitted that i’ve felt something more for you than just… friendship.”

your breath nearly catches in your throat. the words are unexpected, and yet, they make your heart race. you swallow, unsure of what to say, but jisung keeps going.

“i thought if i ignored it long enough, it would go away,” he admits, his eyes locked on yours now, raw and open. “but it never did. and i realized that i couldn’t keep pretending. i couldn’t keep pretending that i didn’t feel something for you. i don’t want to see you with anyone else. i don’t want to watch you go out with someone and not be the one standing next to you.” his lock onto yours.

you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, and you’re not sure whether to be shocked or relieved that he’s finally saying this. all the years of hints, all the quiet moments between you two, all of it makes sense now.

“i’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but i was too afraid,” he confesses, his voice breaking slightly. “i that it would ruin everything. that maybe you wouldn’t feel the same way, or worse—that it would destroy our friendship. but i can’t keep denying it. i’m… in love with you, y/n. and have been for so long, and i can’t pretend i’m okay with the idea of you being with anyone else.”

for a moment, you’re speechless, processing the weight of his words. years of feelings, years of quiet longing—suddenly all of it is out in the open, and it feels both overwhelming and relieving at the same time.

you swallow, your voice barely above a whisper as you look at him. “jisung… i never wanted anyone else. i don’t think i ever did. i’ve been scared too. scared of ruining what we had, scared that you wouldn’t feel the same. but… i feel the same way.”

his eyes widen at your confession, and something in him shifts. like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. his shoulders slump, a sense of relief settling over him.

“really?” he asks, as if he can’t believe you’re saying it too.

you nod, voice steadier now. “i never wanted to go out with anyone else. but i was too scared to risk what we had. i didn’t know how to tell you i… felt the same. i wanted to be with you, but i couldn’t say it.”

jisung ran a hand through his hair, letting out a breath he’s held too long. his expression softens, and he moves closer, hand gently touching yours, hesitant but tender.

“so… we’re both idiots then, huh?” he says with a nervous laugh, the humor light but relieved. “all this time… and we were both too scared to admit it.”

you laugh, the tension breaking. “yeah. but i think we’re finally getting it right.”

his smile is genuine, the softest you’ve ever seen. “so…will you be my valentine?”

you squeeze his hand, a smile tugging at your lips. “well… only because i don’t have anyone else that asked,” and maybe, just maybe, i’ll let you take me out on a real date. not because of a stupid bet, but because i want to be with you.”

his eyes light up and he chuckles at your words. he smiles softly, cheeks a little rosy. “that sounds perfect.”

and just like that, all the hesitation, all the silent feelings, fade away. you’re both free from the weight of denial, starting something new. together.

and in your book, you still won’t the bet. you knew you weren’t gonna pay for the dinner from the start, and you were right. you also got the best valentine, and soon boyfriend, anyone scouts ever ask for.

—

⁀➷⊹ ࣪ ˖~ THE LA LA LOVE SERIES .ᐟ

taggies(open) ↳ @kittydollzz @huffnpufffck @completelyjae @lovesuhng @nae-vm @ayibdorrt @chocoriki @yomaman @yukisroom97

(i’m sorry this one’s a little late you guys)

[mintfullyyours]

"no one can hear you scream" prank

I'm sure this has been done but have y'all see that prank "no one can hear you scream"? this is how I imagine it would go lol

They all would react so different but tell me why Simon would be low-key into it?

thank you all for indulging with me <3

let me know if you'd like to be on my tag list

John Price

"And that, love, is a Redwing," John points upwards, bringing his binoculars to his eyes. "Beautiful, innit? Migrates here from Scandinavia and Iceland."

"Beautiful indeed," you hum in agreement. You step ahead of John, hands tucked into your pockets as you glance back at him with a mischievous smirk, "I bet no one can hear you scream."

John squints at you, lowering his binoculars slowly. His hand instinctively drops to the waistband of his jeans, where his handcuffs are nestled. Unease crept up his chest, "What was that?"

You spin around with a teasing glint in your eye. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding."

John huffs, shaking his head as he closes the distance between you. "Uh-huh," he drawls, reaching out to grab your wrist before you can dart away. You yelp, laughing as he easily pulls you into him, wrapping his arms around you in a firm but playful hold. "Think you're funny, don't you?" he murmurs against your hair.

"A little," you admit, grinning up at him.

He exhales dramatically, "You’re lucky I love you."

You poke his chest. "And you're lucky I didn't mean it."

John lets out a chuckle, pressing a warm kiss to your temple before nudging you forward. "Come on, dove. Before I have to put those handcuffs to use." The way he smirks at you sends a shiver down your spine—not from the cold, but from the entirely new kind of trouble you might’ve just walked into.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"Finally." You huff out, interlacing your fingers with Simon, you drag him deeper into the woods. "Now that we're alone, no one can hear you scream."

You giggle, thinking this is how you'll really leave him speechless. Without skipping a beat, Simon smirks. "I won't scream."

"Huh?"

Before you can process his words, he grabs a fistful of your shirt and pushes you back against a tree. The rough bark presses into your spine, and your heart races. This wasn’t how your silly little trend was supposed to go.

But this was your boyfriend & he is lethal.

He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. "You forget who you're playin’ with, love," he murmurs, voice dripping with amusement. His fingers tighten around the fabric at your waist, his body pressing just close enough to make you shiver. "If anything, you'll be the one screaming."

Your breath catches, and he chuckles—low, knowing.

"You alright" he teases, tilting his head. "What happened to all that courage, hm?"

You clear your throat, willing yourself to sound unfazed. "I—uh—"

Simon hums, running his fingers along your side before pulling away with an infuriating smirk. "Thought so." He steps back, offering you his hand. "Now, are we finishing this walk, or do I need to carry you out of here?"

You narrow your eyes, smoothing down your shirt as you take his hand. "You're the wooorst."

He presses a quick, teasing kiss to your forehead. "And you love it."

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny leapt over a small stream and held his hand out for you to take. "Actually, birdie, next time we can go to Inverness. Beautiful trail out there." You groaned playfully, already counting down the hours until you’d be back in civilization.

"'M thinking we get pizza for dinner after this," Johnny huffed, stepping over a rock. Your stomach grumbled at the sound of that, "Make that two."

"Pizza’s good," you agreed, teasing. "Just like how it's good for us to be out here… because no one would hear you scream."

Johnny halted mid-step, "What was that?"

You blinked innocently, "I said I wanted ice cream... when we get back?" You tilted your head. "What’dya think I said?"

His eyes narrowed, lips twitching upward. In a blink, he closed the distance, scooping you up in one swift motion. You yelped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he spun you effortlessly.

"Johnny!" You shrieked, laughing.

"Oh no, lass," he smirked, voice dropping to something low and playful, "if you’re gonna make threats, ye best be ready for the consequences."

Still holding you against him, he leaned in, his breath ghosting against your lips. "No one would hear you scream, either."

Heat bloomed in your chest, your breath hitching—but before you could react, he kissed the tip of your nose and dropped you back onto your feet with a smug grin.

"Now," he clapped his hands, "pizza first, then ice cream, and maybe… if you’re real sweet to me, I’ll let you make all the threats you want—in private."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You shut the car door and take a deep breath of the crisp forest air. Marveling at the dense trees ahead of you, you take a step forward and sigh, "No one would hear you scream."

"What?" Kyle asked, arching a brow. His hand still rested on the car door, as if ready to bolt.

"Nothinggg." You say in a singsong voice, suppressing a grin.

"Oh, absolutely not." Kyle wrenches the car door back open and hops right back inside.

You giggle, walking back to the car to find the door locked when you try to open it. "Kyle, I was just kidding."

"Yeah? I've watched enough True Crime while you've dozed off to know you might not actually be kidding."

"Let me in, Garrick," you roll your eyes, tugging at the handle again.

"No way, love," he says, smirking through the window.

You cross your arms and tilt your head. "If you don't let me in, I will find another way to make you scream." His smirk falters just a little. "That a threat?"

You lean in, lowering your voice. "A promise."

Kyle hesitates for a beat, then the locks click open. The second you slide into the passenger seat, he grabs your wrist and pulls you into his space—close enough for you to feel his breath fan against your lips.

"You know," he murmurs, his fingers grazing along your arm, "for someone who jokes about murder, you’re an awful tease."

You smirk. "And yet, you keep letting me in."

Kyle exhales a laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. Now tell me—what was that about making me scream?"

You hum, trailing your fingers along his jaw. "Guess you'll just have to find out later, Sergeant."

His eyes darken just enough to send a thrill through you.

"Yeah," he mutters, starting the engine with a grin. "We're definitely getting a cabin next time."

tag list

@ebodebo @meheheasasa

[yawping-poets-society]

we don't talk enough about cameron's first real scene, where he talks to neil outside his dorm before todd arrives. in case anyone doesn't know what i'm referring to, here's the dialogue from the scene:

Cameron: Hey, Neil, study group tonight?

Neil: Yeah, sure.

Cameron: Business as usual, huh? [turns to leave, then] Hey, I heard you got the new kid. Looks like a stiff. [laughs at his own joke] [Todd enters] Oops. [Cameron leaves]

so let's talk about it!!

cameron opens with the study group question. this is pretty straightforward to me-he knows he's none of the poets' favorite, and certainly not charlie's. neil is his foremost supporter, pretty much the only one who sticks up for him, so this makes sense. he's checking with neil, his 'in' to the group, to make sure he can hang with these guys. he wants to be part of their circle so badly, and that's pretty clear from the get-go.

and then he hits us with this whole "stiff" business. this is a major thing i've seen people use to justify their hate of cameron and i really struggle with that.

because, well...this is SO undeniably awkward. neil tells todd just a moment later not to mind cameron because he was "born with his foot in his mouth." so off the bat, that's not something you say about someone who's consistently rude or who you don't like. that's neil sticking up for cameron. he's saying, sorry todd, he means well, or at least, he doesn't have any ill intentions. cameron's just not got the best grasp of social cues, that's how he is. this is a pretty valid explanation in and of itself, but if you'll walk with me a little further, i've got a deeper theory about why cameron makes this comment.

more than just it being awkward, this casual friendliness, haha, new kid, a mild insult said with much bravado...this isn't really cameron as we see him for the rest of the movie. though he does remain relatively awkward, it doesn't really match his character of being cautious and trying to not stand out, to fit into the group (as we see in his first line). so how to explain this action (because i don't believe the explanation is just: cameron is being an asshole/being awkward)?

to me? this is what cameron thought charlie would say. isn't that almost exactly how charlie always talks about cameron, after all? for a great example, see later in the same scene:

Charlie, about Cameron: What's his specialty, bootlicking?

so maybe cameron believes that this is how friends treat each other. or at least, how they talk about other people to entertain their friends. charlie, while not a stellar student and clearly not liked by the administration, is the class clown, which makes him popular with students at welton. thus, cameron is probably jealous of charlie. he probably wishes he was more like charlie-confident, funny, well-liked, etc. and again, he clearly wants to be friends with neil, and part of their larger group, very, very badly. all of this to say:

i don't think cameron meant what he said about todd.

he's trying to get a laugh out of neil. so what does he do? he does what he thinks charlie-neil's funny best friend-would do. it's not a nice thing to say, but to me, it really just reads as someone who is trying to guess what the appropriate, funny thing to say in a situation is, but doesn't actually know. cameron might not have even really thought the 'stiff' joke was funny. but he thought neil would find it funny, which is really the whole point. cameron is, at the most fundamental level, an unpopular kid who wishes he was well-liked, and is fumbling around blindly trying to find his way there.

[ariestrxsh]

sub!bsf!matt x bsf!reader

𖦹 content warning: smut, mutual masturbation, voyeurism/exhibitionism, edging, squirting, getting caught

𖦹 summary: matt makes a bold claim that squirting is a myth, and you prove to him that he's wrong

dividers by the one and only @vxnitra 𖦹

TUNNEL VISION

"I don't believe for a second that it's real. It's just something they show in porn to make it more exciting," Matt's voice broke the silence of the room as he came walking through the front door with his two brothers after filming their car video.

"That's a bold claim," Nick smugly responded, rolling his eyes. "Just say you're a virgin, Matt. It's less syllables." Nick started up the staircase, leaving behind the conversation that didn't really concern him at all.

"Squirting is totally a real thing, Matt. You're just dumb," Chris blankly stated. "How would you know, Chris? You ever seen a girl squirt?" Matt shot back, raising his eyebrows and shrugging his shoulders. "No, I haven't seen it, but you'd have to be an idiot to think it's a myth," Chris huffed, heading off towards his room. "Whatever," Matt mumbled under his breath.

"Hey, thanks for letting us use your car for the video. Sometimes I worry that mine is too recognizable when we take it out around here," Matt turned his attention towards you, tossing you your keys. "Yeah, don't mention it," you reached out with both hands, and they landed in your palms with a loud jingling sound.

Matt ran his fingers through his hair and plopped down on the couch beside you with a sigh. You let out a chuckle as you shook your head at his naivety. "What? What's so funny?" Matt wondered, furrowing his brow and narrowing his perfect blue eyes at you.

"Did you say that squirting isn't real?" You inquired, trying to stifle your laughter. "Yeah, why?" Matt innocently asked. "I have to show you something," you declared, standing up and grabbing him by the hand. "What?" Matt skeptically questioned you, completely caught off guard by you pulling him to his feet. "What are you going to show me?"

"Shhh," you hushed him, turning around and holding a finger to your lips. "You can't tell anyone. Just follow me." You led him out the front door and into the warm, summer night to your car that was parked in the driveway.

You demanded that he get in without any further explanation, and he climbed into your passenger seat with a perplexed look plastered to his face. You moved your chair back and lifted your hips, tugging down your pajama bottoms.

"What are you doing!?" Matt exclaimed, staring wide-eyed at you. He couldn't help but let his gaze wander over your exposed legs, awaiting your response as you discarded your clothing onto the floor of your car. "Squirting is real, and I can prove it," you answered him, looking around to make sure there were no witnesses.

"Y-you're gonna sh-show me?" Matt asked, blinking rapidly to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him. "Why not? I love any chance I can get to prove you wrong," you arrogantly responded, a sly smirk forming in the corner of your lips.

You clicked on the overhead light, and you turned your body to face him to give him a better view of the show you were about to put on. Finally, you reached for your vibrator that was stowed away in your center console, making Matt's jaw drop.

"You just keep that in there?" Matt wondered, imagining how differently the car video would have gone if any of the three of them had stumbled upon it. "Yeah, I never know when I'm gonna need it. It's come in handy quite a few times," you admitted, winking at him and slowly parting your thighs.

His curious blue eyes immediately dropped to your bare cunt that was already slick with arousal. It immediately became his object of focus, holding him in a trance. "Wow," he whispered, admiring the way it glistened in the dim lighting.

He instinctively reached out to touch it, but you playfully smacked his wrist. "I said I can make myself squirt, not you can," you teased him. "This is purely for educational purposes." He just sat there silently with his jaw hanging open and his eyes wide as he nodded and pulled back his hand.

"You know what would really help me, though?" You asked, switching on your vibrator. "W-what would that be?" Matt wondered, his gaze still locked on what you had between your legs. "You should do it, too," you suggested, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth and glancing down at the tent that was taking form in his sweats.

You shuddered, and your leg twitched as you rested the buzzing toy against your clit. "You want me to..?" Matt asked, his voice trailing off as he reached for his bulge. You bit down on your lip a bit harder and nodded as you gazed into his blue eyes. "Please, Matt. It'll make me squirt so hard if you do it with me," you cooed in a soft voice that Matt couldn't say no to.

"O-okay," he stammered, reaching into his waistband and pulling out his half-hard dick. You eyed his swollen, mushroom-shaped head as he wrapped his fingers around his shaft. His mouth fell open and a strangled moan left the boy as he started to massage his cock for you. It immediately grew in size, blood rushing to it. A bit of clear fluid pooled at his slit as his hand moved up and down over his length.

"It's so pretty, Matt," you told him, gawking at the way his precum started to drool down the side of his tip. He blushed at your compliment. He'd never touched himself in front of a woman before, never mind a woman who was also touching herself, but in this intimate moment the two of you shared, he was beginning to learn new things about himself. He loved watching and being watched.

The whole time, his gaze flickered between your weeping hole and the way your face was contorted in a look of sheer pleasure. The vision that played out before him was completely hypnotizing.

He wet his lips and let out another pretty sound as he watched you take your free hand and start lining your fingers up with your entrance. He gasped and started to stroke his cock faster as he watched them disappear inside of you. He couldn't look away even if he wanted to.

You turned your toy up to the next setting, causing you to shiver again. A needy whimper unfurled from your pouty lips as you started swiveling your hips for a deeper sensation while your rode your fingers.

Matt started paying close attention to his tip, gently making circles on his most sensitive spot with his thumb and using his precum as lube. His eyebrows knitted together as he indulged in the lovely sensation. "Oh, fuck," he groaned as his cock twitched beneath his touch.

You couldn't get enough of the sight before you - his pink-tinted cheeks, his parted lips, and the look of bliss inscribed on his face as he started to stroke his length again. His blue eyes were glossy with lust, and they didn't stray from your bare pussy that was on display just for him.

The two of you watched each other intently, getting off on the other's pleasure while you each sped up your movements, both of your delighted sounds filling the car. "You're doing such a good job, Matt. You're making me so close," you whined in-between your satisfied moans. He squeezed his fingers around his shaft as he moved his hand up and down, feeling the pressure begin to build in his lower stomach.

Suddenly, you shut off your toy and removed your fingers. Despite pausing your movements, you continued to clench around nothing. Matt slowed his strokes and swallowed hard. "W-why'd you stop?" He stammered his way through his sentence, worried he'd done something to kill the mood.

"Don't worry, baby. I'm just getting started," you responded in a seductive voice, your eyes flickering up at his. You turned your vibrator back on, sinking into the wonderful sensation of being watched while you played with yourself again. You took your two fingers and inserted them once more, slowly picking up speed.

"D-does that make you squirt harder? When y-you edge yourself?" Matt nervously asked, lazily massaging his cock as he admired your delicate folds. "Mhmm," you purred. Matt had secretly always wanted to see you like this, and the reality of it exceeded his expectations.

He brushed his thumb over his sensitive tip again, sending goosebumps across his skin as a breathy groan fell from his lips. "You're so.. responsive," you told him, watching the way his cock throbbed against his palm.

"Does it feel good?" You wondered, knowing it must have but still dying to hear him say it. He bit down on his lip as his bedroom eyes raised to meet yours. "So good," he softly replied before his gaze dropped down to the way you methodically fucked yourself.

"I can't wait to cum all over my fingers for you," you whimpered, turning your vibrator up to the highest setting. Matt lifted his hips up off of the seat and started thrusting his cock into his tightly closed fist, pretending it was you. The sounds he made became more urgent, and his eyelids grew heavy as he watched you.

All of a sudden, you withdrew all stimulation again, and Matt watched as your pelvic muscles rhythmically contracted around the emptiness. "Oh, fuck. You're so wet," Matt commented as he watched your pussy drool onto the leather seat beneath you. You managed to chuckle through your panting. "I know, and it's all your fault, baby," you purred, turning your toy back on.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to slow your heart rate and maintain control as you were teetering on the brink of orgasm. Your fingers found their way to your entrance again, and Matt watched as you stretched around them.

"O-oh, fuck. I don't think I can t-take much m-more," Matt whined as he fisted his cock as fast as he could, rutting his tip into his palm as he drove his hips upward. The way Matt was tripping over his words and falling apart in front of you made it nearly impossible for you to hold off much longer.

The moisture of your combined breathing started to lightly fog the windows. You watched Matt's cock twitched before white ropes of cum squirted out of the tip, painting his hand, his clothing, and the leather interior of your car.

A string of moaning and incoherent babbling streamed from his lips as he finished in front of you. The way his face looked as he reached his climax coupled with the pretty sounds he emitted were enough to send you over the edge. Your head fell back against the driver's side window, and you slammed your eyes shut as you came unraveled.

The low hum of your vibrator reverberated throughout your whole being, leaving you at the mercy of your climax. You felt a familiar sensation, the knot in your stomach getting ready to snap. You voluntarily tensed your abdominal muscles, squirting as you finished, and Matt watched in awe as you sprayed the window behind him.

"Oh!" You exclaimed, trembling as the milky substance gushed from you again, making the most beautiful mess Matt had ever seen. "Holy fuck," Matt whispered in shock of what he'd just witnessed. You removed your fingers and shut off your toy, slowing your breathing as you recovered from the intensity of your orgasm.

"I stand corrected. That was impressive," Matt admitted, nodding in approval. At the same time, you both glanced up over his shoulder to see your arousal scattered across the glass of the passenger side door.

That's when you both noticed him. On the other side of that glass was a shocked-looking Chris, his mouth agape and his eyes bigger than you'd ever seen them before. Matt grabbed his cock again to hide it in his hand, and you slammed your legs shut, reaching to turn off the overhead light as Matt started to slowly roll down the window.

Despite the moisture that had started to steam up the car, Chris had seen everything and was just as mesmerized by your hypnotic movements as Matt was. Chris' wide stare flickered between the two of you. "I was, um, showing Matt that squirting is a real thing," you murmured under your breath.

"Yeah, I got that. Um, I just came back to check to see if I left my phone in here when we did the car video," Chris nervously replied, still looking like a deer in the headlights. You bit back an embarrassed smile as you reached for your bottoms that were on the floor.

"Uh, here," Matt said in a shaky voice as he reached for Chris' cell that was stashed in the cupholder that neither of you had noticed until this very moment. He handed it to his brother through the partially open window with a trembling hand, and Chris quickly grabbed it from him.

"Uh, thanks," Chris responded, blushing hard and glancing at the both of you one more time before he headed back inside. Each of your hearts were pounding in your chests as you made eye contact one last time before the two of you erupted in a fit of laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

"Well, now Chris can say he's seen a girl squirt, too," you chuckled.

[railingsofsorrow]

I was thinking about jj being at home while reader is out partying. and then she calls him, really really drunk so he's concerned and goes pick her up.

love your writing! ❤️

midnight swim

[jj maybank x reader]

summary: the one where you drink too much and decide to have a midnight swim but your boyfriend stops you.

pairing: jj maybank x reader

w.c: 1.1K

warnings/content: alcohol consumption; language; stupid drunk decisions; argument with parents (mentioned); suggestive content (you blink you miss it).

[requested]

A/N: HELLOO this was fun to write hope you like it :)

navi

masterpost

outer banks masterlist

request me something

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Wanna go home.” You mumbled into the phone, walking outside of the loud house to have a moment of peace. Maybe your social battery is over. You didn't know what exactly cut your mood off from the party but you wanted to put on your pajamas and lay in your boyfriends' chest for the whole (rest) of the night.

“Mhm.”

“Dude, did you just kill me?!”

Pope's laughs echoed through the line, followed by JJ's trying to stifle a chuckle but he was very unsuccessful, earning a punch on his arm provided by his best friend.

“Baby? Sorry. The guys were being loud and— You still there?”

You hummed, eyes slightly unfocused staring at the enormous pool of whoever Kook's house you were. You were barely remembering your own name to be honest. You don't like drinking without your friends but you made the terrible choice to drown in booze to forget about the fight with your parents and here you are. Wallowing in self pity. And alcohol. A lot of it, it seemed.

“Baby?”

Rubbing your eyes with a sigh, you replied with a soft hi and there's some shuffling in the background.

“How's the party? Eat any fancy finger food yet? Or is it just champagne?”

“Fuck off.” You couldn't help your chuckle. Your feet somehow carry you out of the porch and into the pool area. Everything felt hot.

You can hear your boyfriends' deep chuckle before he teased you some more, attempting to rile you up. JJ was aware that when you called him at a party was either because you wanted to leave or you just got tired of being socially active and the excuse of being on the phone was good to keep people away temporarily. He wanted to know which was the option now.

“So?”

“'s boring. I wanna— Ouch.” Your laugh was loud but you didn't had a filter with the alcohol in your system so you didn't think much of it or that it wasn't so funny to stumble and fall flat on your ass.

“What?” JJ seemed to notice your lack of sobriety through your continuous giggles. “Where are you right now?” He prompted, eyeing the van's keys on the bowl beside him but not moving to grasp it quite yet. You were a big girl, you could handle yourself; you told him that once when you called him drunk and he showed up to take you home because he was worried. You were pissed. He'd never do it again unless he felt the need to. He didn't want to be possessive in any way.

“Wish I was with you.” He couldn't see your pout but he knew it was there. “Listen... We should go for a midnight swim—is it midnight yet?” You laughed, crawling towards the edge of the pool. The water looked so clean and it was so hot, you just wanted a quick swim.

“It's 1am, baby.”

“Perfect.”

The blond's lips quirked up slightly. “You sure you good? Not doing anything stupid, right?”

“You said it yourself stupid things have good outcomes all the time.” You retorted, taking off your sandals. “Ah, shit. I didn't brought a bikini.”

“Why would you need a bikini?” JJ yawned, resting back comfortably against John B's beaten-up couch. “Was it a pool party? I can't remember you telling me—”

“Not a pool party but they have a pool.” You clarify, blinking down at your outfit. “Baby, I gotta get off my dress, I don't wanna make it wet.”

The way he sat up so quickly that Pope, who was thrown on the loveseat gave him a look of confusion.

“Why do you wanna— Where are you?”

You sighed impatiently. “Told you we should have a midnight swim! I'm by the pool—”

“Okay, yeah, no.” JJ grabbed the car keys and practically sprint out the door. So much for not doing anything stupid. “Baby, can you do me a favour?”

Your face scrunched up and you shook your head. “No. 'm gonna wait for you in the pool—”

“No, you're not. You're gonna get your pretty little feet away from whatever pool you're nearby and you're gonna wait for me, got it?”

“But the midnight swim...” you slurred out, throwing your head back with a groan. “C'mon, stars ar' out and—”

“We'll have a swim when I get there but only if you wait for me, 'kay?” JJ tried a different tactic, a bit desperate for you to get the hell away from the pool while being drunk. “Where are you at again?” He knew some of your friends but he didn't know exactly whose house you were at.

“Stacy's.” You replied, dumping your feet in the pool and dangling them from one side to the other. You were sitting at the edge, the party inside echoing all of the excitement from strangers and the few (three?) people you barely knew.

The Twinkie was on before JJ even shut the door.

“Baby?”

He said carefully, praying you hadn't jumped in the pool in the meanwhile. You let out a low hum in response.

“Your dress' still on, right, princess.”

“Why? You wanna take it off?” She chuckled, leaning back to rest against her elbows. “Still on. 'm waiting f'you like you asked.”

“Good girl.” He turned on the street and now it was only ten minutes away by car. He'd make it in five. “Hey. Are you dizzy or feeling lightheaded? Are you sitting down?”

“Okay, doctor Maybank. You're doing a full checkup or something—Hey!” You exclaimed in indignation when a splash went off and you got soaked. Someone had jumped on the pool. A group of girls that were shrieking like little kids. You stumbled away from the pool, your eyes a little more focused now as you walked towards the backdoor, pushing between people to reach the exit and leave that fucking party. God why did you even came?

“Babe, you good? I'm here.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, watching the beat up van park in front of Stacy's house. “I see you.”

JJ stepped out of the vehicle to greet you. You met him halfway, a pout on yours lips when he asked why on earth were you wet. “Did you get into the pool—”

“No! Some stupid girls jumped in it and I was sitting close!” You whined and JJ's concern turned into amusement really quickly. “Stupid, fucking—”

“Alright, alright.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders to bring you closer, running a hand across your back and pressing his lips against your forehead. Your sigh was muffled when you buried your face in his shirt. “Let's get you in some nice comfy and dry clothes, yeah? You good with that?”

“You promised a swim.”

He kissed your pout away until it became a smile you were trying to break into a frown but was unable to.

“Sobriety first then we'll swim and surf and do whatever you want, baby.”

Just definitely not tonight.

[back2bluesidex]

To Be Popular - JJK [Chapter 2]

Pairing: Social Media Influencer! Jungkook X Marketing Manager! Reader ft. Yoongi

Summary:

You love everything about social media - apart from the ever-growing number of social media influencers. You don't understand how these people gain followers and admirers just by installing a camera and doing very basic things in front of it. And you despise how some of them can do anything to gain fame, to be popular - even if it includes uploading their bedroom scene in pornsites aka people like Jeon Jungkook. But when your company launches a new product and your department head tasks you with signing Jeon Jungkook up as an endorsement partner - you have no choice but to chase him like the corporate slave that you are. However, things turn worse when you embroil in a dating rumor with him and have to keep the game going for the sake of everything. is it really for the worse or things will turn in a way you never expected it to?  

Theme: Strangers to lovers au, fake dating au, kind of enemies to lover au, angst, smut, fluff.

Full Series Word Count: 26k

Chapter word count: 6.4k+

Warnings: flirting, argument, kissing that's all.

Masterlist | Patreon (For access to the complete series)

Minors, I am not responsible for what you consume online. So, act more rationally and stay away.

Chapter index: -

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 |

Drabbles: Imposter in the club,

Or read the full series right away on Patreon!!

Only twice in your life did you have the need to sign contracts. 

First time was your employment contract, the second time was your house lease contract. 

The third contract turns out to be something that you didn’t even have the wildest dreams about - a dating contract. 

That too, with a person you seemingly get irked by very often. 

You have gone through the documents almost every day this past week, so much so that now you can recite the terms and conditions as fluently as your phone number. 

The contract is pretty standard if you are being honest. There is only one term that you added: “Kisses are not allowed”. And it seems like both Seokjin and Jungkook have no issues accepting your only term. 

However, your hands feel clammy all of a sudden when you are about to sign the papers. The thoughts of being under the limelight scares you. 

And being Jeon Jungkook’s girlfriend means a lot of limelight in social media. 

“You okay?” Kim Seokjin asks, perceiving your hesitation in signing the papers. 

“Yeah.. I am just.. You know… don’t know what to expect from all these.” you voice. 

Seokjin places an assuring hand on top of yours, with a little squeeze he says, “you can trust me, Y/N. I will do my best to keep your private life private. Jungkookie is not a bigshot anyway but yes I know there are risks of privacy breach, which will be my department to handle.” 

You feel an odd sense of relief injected by the man’s silver voice. 

But it seems like you spoke too soon because, “what’s up you two?” Jungkook appears from nowhere. He eyes the place where Seokjin has his hand on top of yours and narrows his eyes at you. 

“You are late.” Seokjin directs his authoritative voice towards Jungkook. Jungkook sits down on the chair beside him and starts chugging down water. His Adam's apple bobs like a sin. 

You distract yourself from the scene by signing the papers finally. 

“Now it’s your turn.” Seokjin extends the paper towards Jungkook, who without a second thought takes it and signs it. 

For a moment you wonder how he manages to stay disconnected from every worry? 

You are as much of a stranger as he is to you. But still, he didn’t hesitate to sign like you did. Maybe this is another reason why you dislike Jeon Jungkook? Because he gets to be care-free while you have to care for every single move you make. 

See for an instance - once you dared to pull an act of bravery and it landed you on a dating deal with Jeon Jungkook. 

How fucking funny!

Your fingers tap on your laptop keyboard as you open the email sent by Jungkook’s agency. It’s a full fledged schedule for your and Jungkook’s first month of appearance. 

And that starts tomorrow. 

As for tomorrow, you will have to visit a cozy cafe with your supposedly boyfriend and get caught by paparazzi. Once you become talk of the media then the company will go ahead and publish an official statement. 

Things will continue like this for five months. During the sixth month your appearances will slow down and at the beginning of the seventh month, the agency will confirm the break up. 

Sounds pretty clean. 

During these seven months Jungkook will be done with the endorsement deal with your company as well. Hence, there is no need of working with him afterwards, which is a pleasant news to be honest. 

So now that you are already in the mess, you should as well taste the water and see what it brings for you. 

“You sure will be okay with it? Do you want me to tag along and keep an eye?” Jimin’s concerned voice rings in your ear. 

You are so thankful that the universe gifted him to you in the form of a best friend. From high school till now, there was hardly a day when Jimin didn’t text you, asked what you were up to, let you know what he was doing. 

He is that one friend who never got away. 

“I will be fine. Don’t worry. Go and enjoy your time, do something fun.” you add. No matter how tempting his offer is, you don’t want him to ruin his Sunday to look after you while you are on a playdate. 

“But Y/N-” 

“Jimin, I will be fine! I will keep updating you, okay?” 

He sighs on the other side making you chuckle. “Okay. but do keep me updated.” 

“Yes. appa. Yes.” 

You check yourself once upon cutting the call.

Yeah, you look presentable. Hopefully paparazzies won’t have any issues with your sober dressing sense. 

Once again your head bobs in the direction from where Jungkook’s car should be emerging. But you find none. 

He is late. 

Great. Another reason to hate Jeon Jungkook. 

Just when you are about to pluck your phone out and throw a text towards him, you hear the rumbling sound of an engine. 

More specifically the sound of Jungkook’s bike. 

He comes to stop where you are standing under a bus stop shade and extends a helmet towards you. 

You are way too busy grasping that you miss the object being offered to you. 

“Do I have to ride this with you?” you point at his bike. 

“It’s called a bike. And yes, you are going to ride it with me.” Jungkook thrusts the helmet towards you again. 

“Thanks for letting me know what it is called. But are you sure I will be in functioning condition by the time we reach?” 

“Don’t worry, my dear girlfriend, I will take care of ya.” he gives you a cheesy grin. 

If something flips inside your chest, then it’s better to put off the subject and focus on the fake date ahead. 

So, you put on the helmet, hop on his bike, and place your hands on his shoulders. 

“Be careful, it's hot down there. Spread your legs a little more.” Jungkook warns. 

You know, it’s about the bike but the implications of his words sets your face on a battle of blush. 

Managing your gut and composure you reply with an affirmative sound. 

“Did you… cut your hair?” Now that Jungkook has stripped off his helmet and is sitting relaxed before you, you can see the difference in his hairstyle from what you saw yesterday. 

“Yeah. All by myself. I even live streamed it. How do I look?” You can see Jungkook’s face lighting up as soon as you mention his new hairstyle. 

“You look like a twelve year old. Cute.” and you are genuine with your words. He looks less mischievous and certainly not like someone who would fuck on camera.

The tip of his ears turn pink when he registers your compliment. 

Clearing his throat a little he says, “what should we order?” 

“A flat white for me. And that cheese cake, strawberry one.” you say, awkwardly peeking at the menu, which is currently under Jungkook’s scrutiny.   

You hear him chuckling and when you follow that sound, you find him staring down at you. His crinkled eyes, baby-like fringe, bunny-teeth on display and that beautiful smile makes him look like a completely different person. 

He doesn’t look like the Jungkook you used to dislike. 

And that spreads something warm under your skin. You start smiling at him without noticing yourself. 

“Isn’t that Jeon Jungkook?” a second female voice comes from a little distance. 

“Oh my god. Yes. and who is he with? Isn’t he dating that bully girl? Doona or Dana?” 

“What? No. didn’t you see his viral videos from the club? That girl is his rumored girlfriend. They seemed to have a fight that night but I guess they are good now?” 

“Oh really?” 

Even though the spectators are trying to be discreet and silent with their gossip, they are anything but. 

When you look in their direction, your eyes lock with one of them. She quickly turns away and types something on her phone. 

Something reaches out for your hand that is placed on the table top. 

It’s Jungkook’s own hand. 

He wraps his big palm around yours and interlaces his fingers with yours. With a sickeningly sweet smile he says, “the act has started, we should jump into characters now.” 

You tighten your fingers around him and reply, “of course we should.” 

However, you are still unsure about where you will be after six months of this play. Will you be friends with Jeon Jungkook? Or will you end up being more?  

“But how did you let Kim Doona come between you two if you were seeing each other?” 

By the time you and Jungkook managed to come out of the cafe that day, it was already a mess. At least ten different people were trying to get your face properly, five others were trying to get a shot of your and Jungkook's intertwined hands and others were clicking pictures not-so-secretly. 

By the time you were home, your photos were all over Jungkook’s fandom’s insta profiles. 

And when the bomb (aka the official statement from the agency) dropped, your phone flooded with questions after questions.

You didn’t answer any. 

Nonetheless, the questions reappeared, this time directly, as soon as you stepped into your workplace on Monday. 

And this question in particular - it was the mostly asked one and you were ready for it. 

Your colleague nudges you again, “come on, tell me, why did you let him fuck the other girl if you were dating him?” 

“I wasn’t dating him back then.” you reply confidently, of course you had your own share of practice. “We used to be friends. But you know… friends with feelings. So yeah.. I was kinda pissed at him.” 

She makes an O shape with her mouth. 

“Is that why you lashed out on him during the meeting? I mean I heard that you…” she doesn’t end her sentence. 

These people really work less and gossip more. You nod. 

“Who confessed though? You or him? Oh- wait! Did you confess at the club? Is that why you two were seen fighting?” she throws her rapid-fire questions at you. 

But you are pleased. It worked out the way you wanted. You didn’t have to tell the story, she completed it all by herself. 

“Yup.” you popped the ‘P’ very enthusiastically. 

“Wow! You are living a fan-fiction, girl, a proper friends to lovers au.” she squeals in her seat, “mind if I post the story on my insta? I wanna use my colleague privilege card.” 

You think for a moment. If she spreads the story herself, it will be better for you. You won’t have to recite it all again and again. So you murmur a little “go ahead” and let her click a selfie with you. 

Your computer dings with a notification from Yoongi. He is asking you to come to his cabin. 

Great. Another round of interviews. 

“I just checked the campaign schedule. It’s efficient as always. Good job, Y/N.” Yoongi’s praise brings a smile to your lips.

You murmur a little thank you with a small smile playing on your lips. 

Every time Yoongi praises your work, your insides flip. But sometimes you wish for those praises to come as ‘you look good today’, ‘your dress looks nice’ and stuff like that. 

Even though that brings a sinking feeling temporarily, that doesn’t stay for long. 

“By the way..” it’s coming, it’s coming, “how did you and Jeon Jungkook end up together? As much as I can assume, you two met each other during the meeting for the first time.” 

This. This is not what you prepared yourself for. 

You didn’t think Yoongi would be too interested in knowing your relationship history, so you wouldn’t have to explain anything to him. But not only is he interested, he seems to be pretty observant of things as well. 

Now you can’t tell him the fake story you just told your colleague nor can you tell him that the entire thing is fake. 

So you clear your throat, “it just…. Happened.” 

“Just happened? You seemed to be pretty livid about his existence that day?” your cute manager gives you a lopsided smile. 

“But then you sent me behind him, to convince him or whatever. And things happened.” you turn your confidence up yet again. 

He quirks a brow at you, “things happened after that club incident, huh?” 

He is right. But not the way he is thinking himself to be right.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” you reply, as you collect the files with the details of the campaign and proceed to leave his cabin. 

“The photoshoot starts next week, don’t be lovey-dovey on the set.” he teases you on your way back. 

You only roll your eyes at the door. 

Second fake date is: hanging out at a bar after work. 

But you don’t drink on weekdays. 

So that lands you on a negotiation and the date is fixed on the Friday of the same week. 

You wait for Jungkook at the entrance of your work complex, a place where people would be able to see you getting on his bike very clearly. A strategy to make things public. 

But what comes to pick you up is not a bike but a car. 

A sleek black car that makes heads turn as it comes to stop in front of you. 

For a moment, you think the driver is mistaking you for someone else. 

But then the diver’s door opens and Jungkook comes out, wearing a black buttoned down with a pair of ripped jeans. 

Your eyes are now the size of saucers. 

You once gulp as you see Jungkook smiling brightly at you. 

“Hey baby. Sorry I’m late. Let’s go.” he says sweetly. And you wonder how good of an actor he is. 

“H-hi. It's okay. Yeah, let's go.” you reply in haste, trying to school your dumbfounded expression. 

You let him lead you inside the car with a hand on the small of you back. He lets every passerby see his face, under the street lights, as if he is very proud showing you off. 

Fake. It's fake. You remind yourself. 

“You know, you are a good actor.” you voice your thoughts once Jungkook settles inside the car, 

He chuckles, “yeah? Learned from Jin hyung. He used to be an acting major. Have been seeing him acting to be polite with his shareholders for all the years.” 

The fondness in his eyes at the mention of the other male is so clear. You can’t help but smile. You have perceived the same glow on Jin’s face too. 

“You two really adore each other, don’t you?” 

“Yeah. You can say that. I would be wandering around the streets of Busan if it wasn’t for him.” you hear the underlying darkness in his voice and decide to poke no further on this matter. 

“So, you are telling me that you made this story all by yourself? And this actually ended up making sense?” Jungkook is pointing at his phone, which has your colleague's insta post plastered on the screen. 

“I told you. I am good at my job. Moderating success stories is a part of our marketers’ job.” you shrug. Your shoulders are already a lot loose after a few drinks. 

Your head is on the cloud. 

You feel good. 

And Jungkook is being less cocky today, which is helping you relax even more. 

Jungkook hums, “Great. The act is going well so far.” 

Jungkook starts scrolling on his phone again, focusing on something very hard. After a moment of silence he says, “I won’t lie, we look good together.” 

There is a smug smile playing on his lips. 

You groan, “I thought you quit being cocky for this evening.” 

“Hey! I am not being cocky. Look at these photos.” he protests, poking his phone towards you. 

“I have seen those, Jungkook. And I don’t think I look good with you. You and I are totally two different individuals, from every single aspect. You match with someone like.. Like Kim Doona.” 

Jungkook’s eyes shut for a second, “there is no point of saying this now. I missed my shot with her because someone decided to barge in my perfectly comfortable and peaceful life.” 

“Wait. You had a thing for her?” you sit up straight on your chair. 

“I still do.” Jungkook empties his glass in a sip. 

You would have fought him and told him how you saved from a prolonged controversy, but you are feeling light-headed. You are feeling good. So you will be nice for just once. 

“Well… I am sorry then. I know how it feels to have an unrequited crush.” you sigh, recalling Yoongi’s pretty face, “sorry.” 

Jungkook seems to be caught off-guard with your changed demeanor. 

“It’s okay.” he adds, “you have a crush on that manager, don’t you?” 

The fuck? 

“How the fuck do you know this now?” your eyes go big for the second time today. 

“Come on, Y/N. Anyone with eyes can tell. The way you stiffed when he caught you and me at the parking lot.” he giggles. 

“Ok. That's enough. Let’s go home. I feel sleepy.” you stand abruptly from your chair, swaying a little (thanks to the alcohol in your bloodstream). 

Jungkook stands up too, wraps a hand around your bicep and mutters a small ‘careful’ in your ear.

“By the way… don’t you think you have to call a designated driver?” you ask on the way out of the bar. 

“Jin hyung has us covered.” he shrugs. 

On the way back home you look at the fleeting landscapes out of the car window. For some unknown reason… you feel upset. 

You had a pretty good evening. No matter how much you hate to admit it, Jungkook is a fun company. 

You two would bicker endlessly, then would slip into serious topics like economy and politics, and then all of a sudden you would talk about your favorite drinks. 

He really doesn’t seem like that Jungkook you used to dislike. 

But there is something that’s bothering you. And you can’t put a finger at it. 

The car comes to a stop in front of your apartment. You wave a quick goodbye to Jungkook, who has been busy on his phone all the way back, and climb out of the car. 

As you take small swaying steps towards your entrance, you hear the car door shutting loudly and then in turn Jungkook’s voice, “won’t you give me a goodnight kiss, girlfriend?”  

You don’t know what possessed you. It can be the alcohol, can be your bad judgment, can be the sinking feeling in your chest and the desperate need of feeling something, anything - that makes you turn around. 

You march towards Jungkook without thinking twice, standing chest to chest with him. 

All the mischief drains from his face when you grab him by the collar of his shirt and smash your lips on his. 

It should have been over in a second or two. 

But what's worse is that Jungkook is pulling you close by your waist and deepening the kiss already. 

Hope you don’t regret this when you are sober. 

There were twelve terms in your dating contract. 

You added one. 

And you breached that very one. 

The screen of your phone goes blank as you groan again for the nth time. Every time you open Instagram, all you see is you kissing Jungkook standing on the damn fucking road! 

You two were being followed by the paps that night, which was obviously a part of the plan, and you, being clearly too drunk to think straight, kissed Jeon Jungkook on his lips! 

And now those photos are circulating like wildfire. 

Jimin texted you, asking for a clarification. 

Seokjin texted with three teasing thumbs up. 

And Jungkook texted with probably a thousand of ‘ㅋ’s. 

All you want now is for the ground to split in half so that you can jump in there and die. That’s the best possible solution for whatever the fuck is going on in your pathetic excuse of a life. 

Your phone dings with another notification and you swear to turn it off if it’s another mention in another insta post or another threatening DM from Jungkook’s crazy fans. 

But it seems like the universe is trying to be even more cruel with you, because it’s a reminder of your schedule for the day - which is another date day with the root of your problems - Jeon Jungkook. 

And today, you will have to spend time at his home, click pretty selfies and photos together highlighting how domestic you two are and post those in social media from both ends. 

When you are about to go back groaning, you receive another notification. 

It’s a text from Seokjin, “the car will be there in an hour.” 

“Welcome to my home, girlfriend.” Jungkook grins stupidly as he spots you at his door. You really want to grab a frying pan and bang it on his stupidly round head. 

“Don’t call me that when there’s no one to hear.” you reply grumpily walking inside Jungkook’s luxurious apartment. 

You really want to know how much these influencers make monthly to afford an apartment like this. 

“I call you that for you to hear, baby.” His cheesy remarks are just too much to take, so you just roll your eyes at him. 

“Do you want anything? Tea? Coffee? Juice? Or maybe a kiss?” there he goes. 

This is what you were dreading! The moment you were sober enough to judge your actions, you knew Jungkook will be having a field day the moment he sees you. 

And here you go. 

But but but - you aren’t alone in this. You definitely kissed him first but he, too, kissed you back. So he needs to go down with you. 

“Oh why not, you definitely liked kissing me a little too much.” you bite back. But your words don't affect Jungkook at all. The smirk that he was sporting doesn’t go anywhere. It only grows more sinister. 

“Of course I did. Are you telling me you didn’t?” 

Now this is another thing that you were dreading to admit - that you actually enjoyed kissing him. His lips felt good on yours. 

But you have been trying to convince yourself that it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your veins, even though you know it’s nothing but an excuse. 

“Shut up!” you huff, hoping that Jungkook doesn’t notice the sudden rush of red on your cheeks, “let’s take some photos so that I can leave.” 

“What?” Jungkook is now genuinely confused and you can see it on his face, “Do you really want to leave? I thought we were cooking together? I decided to live stream it.” 

“Me and live stream? Are you kidding? There was no mention as such on the schedule plan?” you are sure all the colors of your face have drained with just one mention of a live stream. 

You hate being the center of attention. 

“Yeah but I improvised just as you did last day by kissing me.” Jungkook shrugs. 

Where the fuck is the frying pan? 

“Okay. I am leaving. Bye.” you haste towards the door. 

Jungkook giggles like a baby, grabbing your wrist and stopping you mid-tracks. 

“Okay okay. I am sorry. I promise not to tease you anymore if you say yes to the live stream.” 

“You promise?” you quirk an eyebrow facing him. 

“I promise.” 

You don’t even know if saying yes to Jungkook’s improvisation was a good idea or a bad one. 

There are reasons it’s both good and bad. 

Good because Jungkook is not teasing or unnecessarily being smug with you anymore. Bad because he is hovering way too close to your body for you to keep being sane. 

The kitchen is big enough, but half of the space is being used to put down cameras and a laptop. On top of that you two have to be crammed in a small space where both of your figures are being perfectly visible to the viewers. 

You are mostly quiet, playing your part, cooking as you are supposed to. 

But Jungkook is in his element. 

He is so natural in front of the cameras that it feels as if he was born to do so. 

Jungkook interacts with the viewers, reads their comments once in a while, smiles, laughs, and makes jokes. Under the light and darkness of the kitchen - he looks so youthful, so radiant that you feel a weird coil in your chest. 

Whenever he brushes past you, you get a whip of his perfume - an earthy, woody tone with a hint of citrus. 

His hair falls on his eyes - unmade - unlike all the other times you have seen him. 

This - whatever this is - you don’t like it. 

“Why is your girlfriend being so silent?” Jungkook reads a comment from the laptop. You pay half mind to him, occasionally smile a little. 

But within a moment, Jungkook slides behind you. 

He puts his big-ass hands on your waist, places his face on your shoulder and says, “baby, why are you being so silent?” 

If you are seeing things right then his lower lip juts out while he tries to coax an answer out of you. 

Your heart starts beating abnormally fast. 

“O-oh.. I- It’s my first time being in a live stream… so yeah.” you proceed to flip the omelet, focusing on the food and food only. 

“You guys heard that? She’s nervous. Don’t scare my girl away.” Jungkook fakes anger. 

You release the breath you were holding when he finally removes himself from you. 

You are now seriously afraid of the outcome of this fake dating contract of yours. 

“Hate to say this but” you take in a deep deep breath “this is actually very delicious. Good job." You point your chopsticks at the carbonara that Jungkook prepared. 

“Really?” he seems to be taken aback with your compliment “Thanks. Glad that you like it.” 

“By the way, you remember you have a shoot with us tomorrow, right?” you change the topic to a more serious one. 

“I do. Will your crush slash manager be there too?” his eyes stay boring in the carbonara. You honestly don’t know why Jungkook is curious about Yoongi all of a sudden. 

“Probably. Why though?” 

“Will try not to piss him off while acting.” he shrugs. 

You scoff at that “he won’t be pissed. He doesn’t reciprocate, you know.” 

“Are you sad about that?” Jungkook’s tone is a tad bit softer now. 

“Not really. It’s not that I am in love with him or something. It’s a stupid crush, and will go away with time.” 

“Have you ever tried asking him out?” 

“Not really.” 

“Then, have you ever asked him to hook up with you?” 

You choke on your omelet. 

“What- the fuck” you cough “no! Why would I ask him something like that?” 

“Why won’t you though? Don’t you want to have sex with him? I mean you like him, it’s only natural.” Jungkook explains matter-of-factly. 

“No. it’s not natural for me. I need to be at least friends with a person to have sex. And I am not friends with Yoongi. We barely even talk out of work.” 

“Oh.” Jungkook thinks for a moment “So that guy friend of yours - what was his name again… Jimin? Is he your…” 

“Oh my god, Jungkook! No! I am not currently sleeping with anyone. I have not had sex for like eighteen months.”  It's your frustration which is speaking now. 

“What? Wait! What are you? A nun?” Jungkook’s eyes go wide at your admission. 

Embarrassment eats you away, like you were eating the carbonara a few minutes ago, “I- I mean. I am not that horny.” 

“Then… Do you want to sleep with me?” 

At first you think you misheard it. So you stare at Jungkook with big eyes. 

His expression is rather serious and you hate how it affects you. 

“What did you just say?” you finally let your voice be heard. 

“You heard me.” 

“Jungkook, please stop kidding. This is not funny.”

“I am serious.” he sighs. 

“Look. I can’t go around and sleep for fun since we have an act going on here. You, too, seem like you need to blow off some steam. And honestly, tell me where is your benefit from all these? It’s your company that’s ripping the fruit, not you.” 

Jungkook’s words register in your brain. He makes perfect sense. You have no benefits whatsoever from all these. 

“It’s just an offer, you can decline it if you want but… we can- we can have some fun like adults. No one has to know, nothing will get fucked up since we are not even close to begin with.” Jungkook reasons. 

He is right. You have nothing to lose if things go down and this won’t be the first time having casual sex with someone you know. There is absolutely no risk, no feelings on the line. 

Should you really consider the idea? 

The scenes from that grainy video start clouding your brain. 

A tiny voice in your mind says, “why not?” 

“Then… Do you want to sleep with me?”

“It’s just an offer, you can decline it if you want but… we can- we can have some fun like adults. No one has to know, nothing will get fucked up since we are not even close to begin with.”

Jungkook’s words go round and round in your head. Things have been like that for the better part of the time following your departure from his apartment.

You don’t even know why are you thinking so much, you should have just bad-mouthed him, tell him to fuck off and go fuck himself but something has kept you from doing so. 

He was suggesting something genuinely and there was a point in his proposition. And above every logical expression - it’s true that you are touch-starved. It’s been way too long with you and your dildo only. You need a living object inside of you now. 

Also, Jeon Jungkook is just so hot and he fucks well - that much you know from that unsolicited video. So yeah… you could probably accept his proposal. 

The only thing that is keeping you from doing so is your heart. You don’t know what will you be left off with after you are done fucking with for five to six months. Getting attached to people easily is one of your biggest weaknesses. 

And getting attached to your fuck-buddies, that too to someone like Jungkook, won’t be too glorifying of a thing to do. 

A hand comes and sits on your shoulder blade, scaring you off of your own skin. 

You almost hit the intruder with your laptop. 

“Calm down, it’s just me.” Yoongi comes to your view. 

“Fuck! You scared me!” you finally calm down, put your laptop on the table as it was before. 

“Well it’s not my fault. My shoes were pretty loud against the floor you know? You were too lost in your head that you didn’t even hear me coming. What’s up?” He comes to sit down beside you - way too close to you. 

In other times you would start blushing right away but for some reasons, you don’t. 

And honestly you don’t even want to find out the reasons. 

“Nothing. Just rechecking the schedule and all.” you murmur, forcing your attention on the laptop screen. 

Yoongi hums, “Your boyfriend will come in time, right? Hope he is not one of those snobbish celebrity types.” 

Your boyfriend … The mention stirs something inside your heart. 

“He tends to get late but he is not snobbish.” you defend Jungkook and your actions shocks even you. 

“Oooohhhhh” Yoongi makes an amused noise “love really changes people, huh?” 

You don’t reply to him- everything is fake anyway. 

“There is a rumor going around that you two were acquaintances before? But you told me a completely different story. May I know what’s actually going on?” 

You sigh. You knew this was coming. And you prepared your answer. 

“Well, what I told you was right. But his agency urged me to make up those stories for, you know, reasons. So yeah that’s it. And I will trust you with this secret.” narrowing your eyes on him for the last part of the sentence, you emphasize your point. 

“Okay okay.” he heaves a laugh out of his chest. 

“But why is Min Yoongi suddenly so interested in my love story?” you are genuinely curious about his curiosity. He never pays any mind to any office gossip but now that it’s your turn he seems to be interested in every little detail. 

“Maybe I have reasons you don’t know?” he shrugs. 

When his words register in your mind your eyes widen. 

“W-what reasons Yoongi?” you finally voice seeing him getting up from the chair and heading towards the exit. 

“That’s useless now. Maybe I will tell you sometime in future, maybe I will never let you know.” his voice trails and then morphes into air as he leaves the room. 

Something sits in your chest uncomfortably. Is he hinting at something you wanted all along? Was this fake dating a mistake? Did it cost you something real? 

A migraine forms just before the shoot. 

“Annyoenghaseyo.” Jungkook greets the entire crew sweetly as he stands at the entrance of the studio. There are two other men with you, who are holding big bags, probably full of snacks and drinks. 

“I have brought some snacks for everyone. Since the shoot is going to take long, I hope you all have something to munch on. Also, hope you forgive me each time I make a mistake.” he flashes his bunny smile as he bows and gestures to his men to distribute the snacks. 

You can hear the crew oohing ahhing for his sweetness. You only roll your eyes - only if they know how big of an asshole he is.   

“Darling.” He comes close to you and stands before you, measures your expressions before enveloping you in a hug. 

Another round of oohhs and aahhs echoes in the studio. 

You fake the hug too. 

But obviously your body had to act weird around him. Your nipples pebble as his chest comes in contact with yours. 

You silently thank the pads of your bra. 

“Do I get an answer today?” he murmurs in your ear. His hot breath grazes your earlobes, erupting goosebumps all over your body. 

You clear your throat before pulling yourself out of his embrace.  

“Let’s get into work.” 

One credit you will give Jeon Jungkook is that he knows how to work. He is professional - nothing like what you expect from typical influencers. 

He reads the scripts attentively, takes suggestions from the PD-nim and the director, gives his input and doesn’t do re-takes after retakes. 

He makes things go smooth and easy and the shoot leads towards a culmination within the five hour mark. 

You need to update Yoongi about the shoot’s progress - so you take out your phone but just then, Yoongi walks in with another human being attached to his side. 

It’s Im Semi, Yoongi’s rumored girlfriend, also the heir of the company you work for. 

For most of the time you don’t pay any mind to her existence - that’s simply something having nothing to do with your business. 

But at times like this when she is attached to the man’s side, you supposedly have a crush on, you can’t quite ignore. 

Yoongi marches towards you, with that damned smile on his face. You force back a smile. 

Your mind reels back to Yoongi’s confusing words earlier. You must have made a mistake in analyzing. What a fool you are. 

“How’s everything going?” he questions. 

“Very well. Jungkook is doing a great job. In fact we are done with the shoot, they are only reviewing the shots now. As soon as that’s done, we can’t pack up for the day.” you keep your tone professional. 

“That’s great.” Yoongi chimes in, “You can clock out after this. Good job, Y/N.” 

“Thanks. Are you clocking out too?” you ask, eyeing Semi, who is busy staring at her phone. 

“Nah. I got a meeting.” Yoongi informs, “Gotta go back to the building. I can drop you on the nearest subway, if you want.” 

Semi’s head springs up as he regards Yoongi for a moment and then looks at you with a fake forced smile. 

You know she doesn’t like the idea. 

“It’s o-”

“Don’t worry, I will drop her.” Jungkook appears from nowhere and cuts you off. 

For the first time ever, you are actually grateful to him. 

“Ah yeah. He will drop me.” you shrug. 

“Cool. Should we go now, yoongi?” Semi speaks breaking the thin layer of tension that settled on the air. 

“Yeah. I guess. Bye. See you tomorrow.” Yoongi leaves you and Jungkook behind. 

“You okay?” Jungkook enquiries, once Yoongi is out of earshot. 

“Yeah, Fine. Are you done? Let’s go.” 

“So… I have thought about your proposal and it.. Doesn’t sound too bad.” Your eyes are downward, because if you are honest, then you are extremely coy right now and you don’t want Jungkook to witness that. 

You mulled for the entire ride back home. You thought and thought about what to say, how to say it. 

Now that Jungkook is standing before your apartment entrance, you took a chance of making it short. 

“Fuck really?” Jungkook sounds so shocked as if he didn’t expect you to say yes, “didn’t think you would accept it for real. But I am glad that you did.” 

You finally risk a glance at him. He is smiling. Your heart flips. You hate it. 

“So ah..” your ears must be red by now “do you- do you wanna come in?” you place your invitation. 

Jungkook’s smile vanishes. His face takes up a much darker expression. You know what it is. 

“I’d love to.” His voice dips an octave lower than the usual tone. 

 Now you gotta pray that you don’t regret this decision of yours. 

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[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to The Worst's Chapter 402

Brief summary: Cale plants flags. A new wanderer shows up. Eru wants a power-up too.

==========

As usual, our Cale planted flags again. But the reactions of the ancient powers made it twice as funny. 😂😂😂

FoD: It's worth a try. Cale: I have no intention of fighting. Why would I go to all this trouble if not? I'm doing this to make the wanderer and GoC cult fight each other, not to fight that wanderer. FoD: Haha! Cale. Then, what you said will come true in the opposite way. Cale: What? *frowns* FoD: Hahaha! Cale: (What's wrong with him?) FoD: Cale. Gimme money. You are now on your way to becoming a god, past the angels. So you should spend money like a god. Thus, give me money. I want to use my power like a god. My foundation is money. Cale: (What the heck is he talking about? Let's ignore him.) FoD: *sulks*

The way the cheapskate pointed out the flag Cale had planted... 🤣🤣🤣 And mentioning that Cale is on the godhood path. 🤣🤣🤣

A new male wanderer teleported to where the female wanderer was, and we got to finally know their names. They were Ryeon and Cho, twins who had opposite unique powers. Ryeon had an ice unique power and Cho had a fire unique power. And this time, it was Sky-Eating Water who responded to the new male wanderer.

SEW: That Fire guy. Isn't he worth fighting? FoD: It's something worth trying. But won't Cale cough up a lot of blood? Won't he cough blood like crazy for the first time in a while? Not as a skill side effect, but really cough blood like crazy? Cale: I have no intention of fighting those two! I absolutely have no intention of dealing with them at the same time! SEW: Oh. Okay. *says dryly* FoD: Oh. Okay. *says dryly* SR: Cale. Don't worry. Cale: *feels strangely uneasy as if someone struck the back of his head*

SEW and FoD letting Cale's words go in from one ear and out the other was funny. 😂😂😂 The twin wanderers then decided to head to the Primordial Night and bring Cale because he was the only one who saw the "helper" who kidnapped Sohee.

Wanderer twins: We're going to the Primordial Night. We should take the witness who saw the helper. *looks at Cale* Cale: (Yes! Plan success! Now I get to see the wanderers and the GoC cult fight each other firsthand!) FoD: Is it worth a try? Let's strengthen me. Okay? SEW: Would you like to try it? Cale: *ignores the two*

There was also a scene of Eruhaben wanting to become stronger and develop an "aura" too like CH and HD. His reason? He did not want to look as a "not that great" dragon to Raon because he was weak against the wanderers.

Ending Remarks The ancient powers's reactions today was hilarious. Next chapter would be Cale being taken by the twins to the holy land of GoC, the Primordial Night.

Oh yeah, it was Cho, the new wanderer, who said a variation the chapter title - "How dare the God of Chaos stab us in the back?"

[miscelaneafloral]

I don't know if this is fate, but just today I was thinking about this while I was reading some of his alchemy lessons lines.

Let's see what i got (and sorry if this is not perfect, English it's my second language).

Btw i think some players often don't notice that alchemy lessons lines are basically characters yapping to Yuu in class and that's why I love to give these little lines a deeper consideration.

In this line for example, Malleus talks with patience and lead to us, but mostly he talks from experience and you can appreciate that this line is from a Good or one star line, indicating that something amateur happened in the lesson like frustration from the player.

The line "It's novel to learn new topics" reinforces the idea that Malleus can be a novice just like everybody else when it comes to a topic that he hasn't mastered. Isn't curious that this is also a "good" or one star line?

"This smell does not agree with me."

Another good line, in this one we can clearly see that Malleus isn't perfect and he is perfectly aware unconsciously making a joke of the situation. I honestly love this one, humble baby.

"I know little about machines"

This screenshot isn't perfect, but this is also a one star/good line, this one was also important for me because for a long time i've been thinking that Malleus knows more than anyone that he is not good with tech, but as he doesn't like it anyways doesn't make a effort to learn?? That's too funny to me.

Also, he recognizes that he knows little about something and he doesn't lose sleep about it.

"Fail as often as you must"

This. Line. This is the line. And unlike others this one is a three star/perfect, and I thinks is obvious why.

Malleus, a prince that cannot fail as a single mistake could cost a lot of damage for his people, became familiar with fail as soon as he gained consciousness so he could learn from it in order to prepare for his future rol as a responsible ruler of his people.

Also i think that all of this is one of the reasons why leona hates his guts so much but thats for another occassion i guess.

Lmk what you think!

I know literally everyone knows I love everything about Malleus (he could strangle someone to death and I'd praise him) but one thing consistent about his presentation throughout the game, which I love, is his passion for learning.

As a crown prince, he has certain expectations he knows he must meet. But he is not naturally good at everything. And he doesn't act nor pretend that he is. Instead, just like Vil, he accepts he sucks at it and works so hard to improve that people think he's always been naturally good at it.

It's admirable for a character to appear like a Gary Stu when you first meet him, but learn that he's actually the opposite of it. An actual guy who fails at everything and needs to toil behind the scenes to maintain the Gary Stu image he's trying to project lmao.

[colossrat]

Back to Captain Marvel knowing a lot about new generation memes (because he's a teenager), I imagine a villain making fun of superheroes like, they play part of a song, and if they don't acknowledge it and finish it, someone dies and while the heroes are good at some aspects of their culture, the captain simply crushes it. 50s music? he knows, he lived through that time because of the suspension bubble. Super embarrassing current songs? he knows it and even recites back to front it to the villain. It's embarrassing because no one dies. The villain picked the songs outside the heroes' cultural bubble, but there's the captain reciting "hi hungry im dad. why did you give this name? why why whyyyyy" and he is so into it like, nostalgic Raining tacos? he's vibrating with the melody

Muffin time?! "YES SOMEBODY KILL ME PLEASE ITS MUFFIN TIME" and the jl is like what song is that wtf marvel

GUMMY. BEAR?! "Oh, I'm a yummy, tummy, funny, lucky gummy bear!!! OOH OH"

PPAP? He almost can't talk about how happy he is to recite this piece