#and i think i might send him my number as like a ‘oh we should plan’

[hondayota]

hi do we all remember that guy that i think liked me and i also kind of like him. context we’ve known each other for a few years but never talked much until he started talking to me more. anyway i haven’t seen him in a while and haven’t talked to him much either. i have the chance to give him my number without any serious romantic context and also potentially ask him to prom should i

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。the dictionary definition of a rich boy

synopsis. that rich guy who won’t stop asking you out is your partner for this project—send help

contents. pre dating rich boy! gojo, college! au, implications of a zenin being pushy on the first date, satoru being distraught you went on a date lol, pre relationship shenanigans with the cutest loser boy !!

word count. 3.8k (it’s literally all just him being a handful)

notes. thank you niku my most cherished gojo stan for comming this (and giving me the most ridiculous tip) i adore you so much :,) mwah 💋

he’s late—gojo is late. in fact, he’s very late, by forty-five minutes and thirty-two seconds to be exact. you aren’t really the count-by-the-second type of person, but somehow when it comes to that irritating, smug, too-talkative brat that you’re stuck with…well, you can’t help but be petty and use the seconds against him too.

he shows up close to an hour after your agreed time, waltzing in with a grin on his face—and, oh, you should kill him. he has the audacity to send you a wink when he walks over, coming up to your table and pushing his sunglasses down his nose just a bit to look you in the eyes over the lenses. 

what kind of person wears sunglasses indoors? surely only the kind that are nothing but trouble.

“aw, you’re here already,” gojo hums, “that excited to see me?”

“you’re late,” you spit.

“am i? i could have sworn—”

“now it’ll get dark by the time we get through what we planned for today,” you glare. he looks enthused, positively delighted by the statement—it’s almost as if you’ve offered him candy. 

“well, then i’ll just have to walk you to your apartment,” he offers smoothly. 

what a jackass. of course, just as expected, he’s still attempting to worm his way into your personal life (and likely your pants) in the most obnoxious of ways. over your dead body, however, will you ever allow him to know where you live, let alone accompany you on the way. you value your sanity, and having a conversation with gojo satoru longer than you absolutely have to seems like the most efficient way to fry every nerve and brain cell you have left.

“absolutely not,” you grit, “you can call me an uber. you pay.”

“alright,” he nods, “i’ll get an uber for you. but i’ll need your number to make sure you made it home safe. otherwise, what kind of partner would i be?”

typically, any normal pair of partners are meant to exchange numbers for a project—it would be the easiest form of communication, and more importantly, you can spam call if gojo decides not to carry his weight instead of just hoping and praying he checks his socials. but you can’t let him have your number—he’s not trustworthy enough for that. the last thing you need is him bombarding you with texts, or worse: calls, in the middle of work and class. so instead, you strictly inform him that any and all communication will occur via social media.

he pouts at that—it’s a cute pout, you have to admit. it’s slightly dangerous, too, because had you not had the self-control you do, you might have caved. but then he lights up at the prospect of you adding him back on socials. 

i’ll get your number one of these days, he says confidently. his confidence is as aggravating as the way he clicks his pen in the middle of class. he still chooses to sit right beside you despite all the free and very available seats the entirety of the lecture hall has. 

but no, he insists on sitting right next to you—and you? well, you have to hope you don’t get charged with homicide by the end of every class from the constant clicking he makes you endure. despite all that, gojo is surprisingly smart, which means your project might not be so doomed. 

he’s annoyingly smart, actually—he never takes notes, and just when you think the professor has him cornered by asking him a question when he’s seemingly dozing off, he answers immediately with the correct answer. 

you hate him.

“absolutely not happening,” you grumble, opening your laptop, “anyway i think we should start with—”

“well, i hate to inform you,” he sighs sadly as if it genuinely pains him to say this, “but i’ve actually deleted all my socials.”

“what?” your eye twitches.

“yeah,” he nods, “it’s a bit of a cleanse if you will. staring at your screen all day and finding value in fake posts is not good for mental health, you know? i’m trying to be more in tune with myself. it’s been a real self-journey.”

before the end of this project, you might either be a college dropout or an inmate at the county jail. you’re not sure, either is equally as possible.

“gojo satoru, i am sick of your games,” you spit, “we both know—”

“and i would hate not being in touch with my partner since it’s a crucial part of this project for us to work together,” he hums, something of a smug look plastered on his aggravatingly gorgeous face, “that thirty percent deduction for ineffective partner communication would be such a shame to get when we’re working so hard already on this, wouldn’t you agree?”

is he threatening you? for your number? with your grade? he is, you realize—and you clench your fist tightly around the phone in your hands as he eyes it with a knowing look on his face. he has you right where he wants you, whether you like it or not.

“you’re an asshole,” you spit.

“i’m a mental health advocate,” he gasps—he has the nerve to act offended, even as he’s so obviously enjoying working you up like this. you wish he’d drop dead immediately. maybe you could take his card from his wallet as his cold body lays lifeless on the table and order yourself a new laptop if he did—that would be ideal. 

“i saw you post on your story last night—”

“you didn’t watch it,” he pouts, “i posted a shirtless gym selfie just for you—wait a second, you pay attention to my story, huh?” he cuts himself off with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “c’mon, you don’t have to force yourself to skip them. you know you wanna watch them.”

“no, i don’t,” you seethe, “it was just the first one at the top. stop being self-important—”

“anyway,” he drawls, eyeing your phone again. you want to splash your coffee in his face. “i’ll need your number,” he sniffs, “the crushing disappointment of you skipping my story made me realize i’m too focused on getting social media validation, so i’m taking a break. it’s the best thing for me to do in my headspace right now. hope you understand.”

“are you kidding me?” you stare at him. he grins before shaking his head.

“i would never joke about mental health,” he says seriously—it’s not as serious as your desire to slap him, however.

“fine,” you take a long, slow sip of your coffee to calm down, “give me your phone.”

“oh, you’re gonna set your own contact?” he brightens, immediately handing you his phone. it’s brand new—the newest model, in fact. it’s barely been a few days since it dropped. truthfully, you’re not even sure why you’re shocked—of course, he, of all people, would upgrade immediately. “how intimate,” he gushes, “it’s almost like we’re going on a date—”

“do not text me outside of project purposes,” you interrupt, thrusting the phone back into his hands, “got it?”

“you got it,” he grins triumphantly.

—————

like all things he does, gojo finds a roundabout way to keep his word without actually keeping it. it’s his secret talent, you think—finding loopholes through all the technicalities of things.

hey when ur free can u read over my portion? i just finished

btw r u going to that frat party this wknd? u don’t seem the party type haha but u should come 

i’ll introduce u to suguru! he’s my best friend he’s super nice u’ll like him

oh and when do u wanna meet this week? promise i’ll be on time this time ;)

you make sure to only respond to the questions regarding your project—just because he technically kept his word and started the conversation centered around the project before getting off topic doesn’t mean you have to indulge him. and the way he types is infuriatingly annoying—who shortens every possible word like that? only him, you think.

okay, maybe you’re just nitpicking now, but every time you see his name pop up on your screen, your mood sours tenfold. you decide to answer as dryly as possible.

k i’ll look. we meet same time as last.

the period at the end should add the perfect touch—you grin to yourself in pride at that one. instantly, bubbles pop up and indicate he’s typing again. your smile very quickly drops.

wow ur a rly dry texter aren’t u?

that’s ok i don’t judge

so how bout the party? 

i can be ur escort ;) 

it’ll be fun!

from his side of the screen, gojo watches as your contact shows notifications silenced at the bottom. he pouts to himself—no party, then, he thinks.

—————

gojo satoru, the guy who seemingly has everything he could ever want, likes you. 

frankly, he’s not really sure why—at first, he finds you mildly amusing, and he thinks it’d be fun to have a short fling with you perhaps. somewhere along the line, however, that changes. he watches you dedicatedly take notes in class, no matter how tired you seem from work the night before. he notices the way you chew on your bottom lip when you’re really focused—it’s actually very cute, he thinks. and he’s entertained by the way you always have some smart little retort waiting on your tongue. you’re not boring—and more than anything, you leave him a little humbled. it’s refreshing, and he kind of likes it, if he’s being completely honest.

he’s never liked anyone before—it’s a weird feeling. at best, he’s had a crush where he could appreciate that someone is generally pleasing to the eye and has a personality that might mesh well with his, but he’s never yearned for someone before. 

it just so happens to be his luck that the same person he wants more than anything in the entire world (for the first time ever, too) seems to hate his guts. it also happens to be that the same person he wants more than anything is currently getting asked out by some kid from the zenin family. right in front of him. and you’re saying yes. 

why on earth would you say yes to a zenin of all people? don’t you value yourself? 

gojo can admit that he’s had his fair share of heart robbing and tear inducing moments—he’s not exactly someone with the best track record for commitment, but at least he doesn’t use people for his own benefit. plus, he does, in fact, actually plan on committing to you. that zenin boy most certainly can’t be any good news if he’s anything like naoya, who gojo has met on a multitude of occasions, and knows very well is a scoundrel of a guy. 

“see you at nine?” he hears the zenin (what was his name again?) ask you. you nod, smiling sweetly. 

why don’t you smile sweetly at him like that? he buys you coffee every week. sure, he only gets to buy you the coffee because you have no choice but to meet him for the project, but he even offers to get you a slice of cake—you don’t ever accept, though, so he ends up eating both. but you do like coffee, very strong coffee that’s probably not sweet enough for his liking, but you enjoy the coffee he buys you nonetheless, and that has to count for something.

“sure, see you at nine,” you hum.

gojo watches in absolute shock (and abject horror) as you look down shyly. as soon as the zenin boy walks away, he stomps up to you.

“hey, what gives?” he asks petulantly, making your face paint on that irritated look that it always seems to adopt when he’s in the vicinity—how rude.

“what do you mean?” you ask tiredly, “i don’t speak toddler, so please use your words—”

“why’d you say yes to that zenin boy—”

“he has a name. it’s—”

“who cares what his name is? he’s an asshole! he won’t treat you right even if his mother’s life is on the line—”

“oh, and you would?” you raise an eyebrow, glaring at him. how is it his place to tell you who’d treat you right and who wouldn’t? how is it his place to even care?

“i would,” he gasps at the accusation, “you’d date a zenin but not me? how come?”

“because you’re annoying,” you counter like it’s obvious.

okay, now that is technically fair—gojo has heard his fair share of you’re annoying’s from people in his life. in fact, a good amount of them come from his own mother, but he’s also dashingly handsome, very good in bed, has soft hair, is tall and muscular, can buy you whatever you like, and can be smart and funny too if you really don’t care for those kinds of things. he’s the entire package and more. and more importantly, he’s not from the zenin family, and that automatically means you’ll actually be treated with an ounce of respect.

he looks at you incredulously, feelings a little hurt. “that’s not true! name one annoying thing i’ve done—”

“you laughed in the middle of me speaking in class.”

“that wasn’t at you! suguru showed me something funny on his phone—”

“and you took like twenty minutes in line ordering the most sweetest drink on the menu while i was running late—”

“you can’t use that against me, that’s not fair! i’m a paying customer, i should be able to get whatever i want. plus, it’s technically not my fault you were late.”

“you rubbed in the fact that you had a black card.”

“you mentioned it first!”

“you were late to our first meeting for the project.”

“okay, that was an honest mistake! people are allowed to make those, you know—”

“i don’t want to go out with you,” you say frustratedly, “and it’s really annoying when you act like a spoiled brat that can’t handle the word no and keep on insisting, okay? so leave me alone unless it’s to discuss our project—which weighs fifty-five percent of our grade, by the way, so don’t even think about getting lazy.”

he is not lazy, he wants to argue.

but before he can, you roll your eyes and take a step to walk around him, leaving him there to blink in shock. okay, he thinks with a huff, so you’re playing hard to get. that’s no matter, he’s good at the chase anyway. 

—————

the date doesn’t seem to have gone well. gojo can tell because your eyes are slightly red and puffy, and you’re extra grouchy today in class. your professor seems to have noticed, too, because instead of calling on you today, she calls on gojo extra as a rare show of mercy. 

gojo doesn’t mind—this class is surprisingly easy, and he’s bored half the time anyway. he might as well indulge the uptight professor in an ugly brown pencil skirt and answer her pretentious questions that aren’t as complex as she thinks they are. 

“so,” he finally breaks the silence, “how was your date—”

“if you’re looking for a chance to say i told you so, just get it over with, you jerk,” you grumble. he raises his eyebrows in surprise before both hands go up in surrender.

“i wasn’t,” he says genuinely, “you just…uh…you look upset, is all.”

you hesitate for a short second, gauging his sincerity for a moment before sighing and slumping on the desk, cheek resting on your arm. gojo resists the urge to poke the soft flesh—it’ll probably make you mad, and you’re already in a bad mood. 

“he was…pushy,” you say quietly, “i don’t really believe in taking things far on the first date. he didn’t like that.” instantly, his fists clench tightly, eyeing you from the side carefully, almost in concern. “nothing happened,” you wave off, “but he did make me feel disgusting,” you mutter.

“yeah, well, he is a zenin,” he points out, “they’re…well, my family’s known them for a while. my mom hates them.”

you look over at him in mild interest, raising an eyebrow. “don’t tell me there’s drama in the rich community,” you gasp, “i thought you all just came as one to sip fancy wine and laugh at the poor together.”

he snorts, throwing you a toothy grin that you think for a moment is kind of cute—but that doesn’t mean he’s any different from the rest of the rich folks. someone of gojo satoru’s caliber has no business mixing with someone of yours—it’s common knowledge. gojo has everything he wants, and if he doesn’t, it’s a simple matter of asking before it’s his. there’s simply no way you can mold into his world to be what he needs you to be, and when the time inevitably comes when he realizes you’re not what he wants, well…you’d like to save yourself the wounded pride and crushed soul while you can. 

“sometimes we have fancy appetizers too with the wine,” he jokes, “don’t forget those.”

“oh, my apologies,” you chuckle. gojo likes it when you laugh, he decides. it looks much better than when you’re glum—he thinks seeing your lips quirked in anything other than a smile is a waste of your perfect features, and he can’t have that.

“my mom married my old man in this stupid arranged marriage or something,” he explains casually, like it’s just the norm. you suppose it is—for the rich, at least. you wonder briefly if gojo will have a marriage planned for his future, too, and you wonder if he’s okay with that. surely it’ll be some wealthy and fancy socialite of a girl that fits his family’s standards. someone who’s not you—not that you care anyway, you wouldn’t marry him regardless. “my grandma wanted her to marry the zenin, but she said no. said he treated her like a piece of meat every time they met, so she settled for my dad instead. lucky her, 'cause now i’m her son,” he beams. 

settled—something about the way he says it makes you think his parents must not really care for each other as a husband and wife should. it makes you think briefly about what his childhood might’ve been like, not watching his parents happy and in love the way they should be. but still, the way gojo talks about his mother is fond, with a gentle smile on his face as he recalls the things she’s told him. you can’t help but smile a little too.

“i think that makes you the lucky one,” you snort, “you’d still be her son. just that you’d be a zenin.”

he crinkles his nose at the thought, dramatically shivering and making you giggle. “gross,” he gags.

“well, now you have her to thank,” you hum, “your dad would’ve been…whoever the zenin she was supposed to marry is.”

“yeah, well, trust me,” he mumbles, his smile dropping ever so slightly, “my old man’s not that big of an upgrade from a zenin. even my grandfather’s sick of him. imagine being such a douche, your own dad can’t stand you.”

you’re learning more about gojo in one sitting than you ever imagined (or planned) to learn—part of that is because he seems like he’s the type to overshare on the first meet; the other part…well, you have to be honest with yourself, it’s not exactly a bad pastime hearing him talk about himself. gojo is an odd piece of work, and you can’t say you hate learning about the little pieces that come together to make him so weird. 

okay, perhaps weird is a bit rude, you think—he’s…unique.

“oh, so you’re the dictionary definition of a rich boy, huh?” you hum, resting your cheek on your hand as you sit up and face him—gojo, for a quick moment, feels his heart stutter when you talk to him like that: with your undivided attention like he’s the only one in the room. 

“what makes you say that?”

“daddy issues is like…the first thing in the rich boy starter pack.”

he laughs at that, smooth and almost sweet—it’s a dangerous thing. it’s easy to attract you to him, like a bee to honey, with the way his lips curl like that, showing off his dimples. but the bees can easily turn into maggots—and you don’t want to find yourself as a dead carcass by the end of this.

“i don’t have daddy issues,” he says smoothly, “that old man should sleep with both eyes open. if anything, he has son issues.”

“you’re hands down the oddest person i have ever met,” you mumble.

“what was that? did you say hottest? yeah, i know—”

“shut up, jackass,” you scowl, shoving his shoulder when he leans closer with a bat of his lashes. he laughs, and so do you—and just for one, quick, momentary instance, gojo satoru is not so bad. dangerous and a bad choice maybe, a setup for a big mistake perhaps, something you should stay away from, in fact. 

but not so bad. 

“how about i show you what it’s like to go on a date with a gojo,” he grins, winking easily. he’s persistent—very persistent, you note. “you might like it a lot more than a zenin.”

“no, thank you,” you hold a hand up, “never going to happen.”

“never say never,” he hums, “you might eat your words.”

—————

“hey, satoru?”

“that’s not my name.”

“that actually is your name,” you say tiredly.

“hmph,” satoru rolls over, dramatically tugging the blankets over his body as he shuffles away from you, “not to you, it’s not.” 

you sigh, pursing your lips at his antics. “oh my god. okay—hey, toru?” you correct yourself. and just like that, he turns back around, grinning brightly as he inches closer until his head is resting on your chest.

“yes, baby?” he says sweetly, earning a roll of your eyes as your fingers weave into his hair. it’s soft—you don’t think you ever want to let go.

“it’s way better dating a gojo, by the way,” you murmur, “than a zenin.”

“oh yeah?” he grins smugly, arm draping over your body as he kisses your jaw, “i told you it would be, didn’t i?”

“i haven’t dated other rich families to compare, though,” you tease, “you might get replaced.”

“unlikely,” he chuckles, “no one,” there’s a kiss to your jaw, “will love you,” another kiss to your cheek, “like me.”

finally, there’s a slow, soft kiss to your lips—and when he kisses you like that, you have no choice but to believe him.

satoru sooooo sends multiple texts back to back he just like me for real

[hajiberry]

VOICE-MEMOS THEY SEND WHEN THEYRE DRUNK

Kirishima- “baaaaaaabe, hiii I’m out and well I mean I’m not really out anymore I’m on my way home. In an Uber cause no drunk driving duhhhhhh but actually I’m not even drunk so I actually could’ve driven but somebody I won’t name names was being a bit of an asshat and wouldn’t let me drive. But oh my god I love yousomuch like you know I love my guys but god I miss you every time I go out. And yes I know I’ll see you when I get home but your gonna be sleeping and I’m gonna be sad but honestly might wake you up because I wanna kiss you. Okaaay pulling up to to the cribbb noww BYYE”

Deku- “okay let me start by saying I’m only slightly under the influence right now. Like honestly barely, I didn’t even drink that much but sometimes I feel like because I never had a college experience to build my tolerance up I’m still a lightweight at 24 but anyways I’m on the way home and I keep thinking about how much I love you and I miss you so much and oh my god I don’t know what I’d do if we ever broke up. Not that I want that to ever happen but like oh my god how could I even function? I’d probably drop from number 1 to like in the hundreds 'cause I’d be that useless without you.” *starts crying and the rest of the audio message is him crying*

Todoroki - “y/n, I’m currently in midoriyas car because he’s driving me home because I accidentally drank too much at the after-party for the award show. I’m so sad you couldn’t come, like I know the anniversary party for your parents is really important that’s why I’m flying out tomorrow to be there for it. Shit, that was a secret. I hope you don’t listen to this because then you’ll know I’m on a plane coming to see you in like 3 hours. Honestly don’t know how I’m going to function hungover on an airplane but I think I’ll manage, I mean it’s not like it’s a commercial flight so I should be good. Damn it well I was originally going to say I love and miss you. Which still stands but I’m gonna go now because I think I’m going to throw up” “TODOROKI NOT IN MY CAR PLEASE”

Bakugou- “fuck. I’m so drunk right now and I hate even admitting that but that’s how shit-faced I am right now that I can even admit that I’m drunk. This is why I should never go out with my idiot friends, they make me drink and then I end up talking about you and that’s so beyond embarrassing. Not that you’re embarrassing I just don’t need them to know my business like that. Kirishimas driving me home right now which I feel like speaks volumes about my lack of good judgment right now. I don’t even know what the point of this message is I just wanted to say you’re one of the most tolerable person I’ve ever met and I really fucking love you. Okay bye this idiots smiling at what I’m saying and it’s creeping me out.

[woniehugs]

OPERATION: FUCK SIM JAEYUN.

—✧ summary: as a student, you were a huge academic overachiever, always wanting to excel in class and get the highest grades. as a teenage girl, you wanted to get some hardcore action. academics were stressful, and you needed an outlet for that stress. besides, it’s your second to the last year in high school. what could possible go wrong if you deviated and have a little fun? you’ve had your eyes on one guy for a while now, sim jaeyun. the handsome guy, the star soccer player, good at physics. now, you now had another goal aside from finishing the school year as the top student: fuck sim jaeyun. one day, you get partnered together for a project, and one thing led to another, you end up in his bed. this might just turn your life for the better… or the worst.

—✧ pairing: jake sim x y/n

—✧ genre: highschool! au, fluff, pining (mutual? you’ll see), friends with benefits, casual relationship, smut (in later parts)

—✧ a/n: i’ve been thinking about this plot for soooo long now and i really want to write it so here i am haha. this story will be split into two parts (you’ll understand why soon) each part with a vague number of chapters for now. depends on my mood, i’ll be writing and posting the chapters whenever since i’m pretty busy. but i promise, i will finish writing this because this is the plot i’ve been both daydreaming and sleeping to at night. this’ll be my outlet for my stress from academics ;)

—✧ taglist: @youreverydayzebra @witheeseung @w3bqrl @renjuns-grillfreind (cant be tagged) @freakywonbin , @enhafika , @enhacolor, @woniebuns, @cyberstephzz, @sumzysworld, @woniefull, @aanniikkaa, @faithnsstuff, @wonnienyang, @wonlluvie, @slut4hee, @hwaluvrsblog, @jakeswifez, @jiryunie, @nikibleist , @friurt, @jungwonsstrawberriesnchocolate, @jakesimfromstatefarm, @lolddhfsdcvff-blog (cant be tagged), @my10monthslovesimjae, @heefever, @milanco, @khaisdrz, @cha-raena, @khaisdrz , @milanco , @bananna-12 (cant tag), @ilovejakesimsm (cant tag), @enhypenlovre, @simjaeyunswifee, @shawnyle, @hoonieluv, @niniissus, @bookloversomuch . send an ask or comment if you want to be added!

SHORT PREVIEW:

══════*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*══════

you pull away from jake, panting, trying to catch your breath. you hear him breathing in the same pace as yours, and your brain short-circuits for a moment. you couldn’t believe what the hell just happened.

who the fuck leaned in first?

was it me? him?

and why did i enjoy it so much?

“s-shit, i…” you try to say, clearing your throat. you weren’t so sure what to say after that. wow? you’re an amazing kisser. we should do this more often! oh no you would sound insane. but then again, you were never even sane in the first place.

jake continues to stare at you, still trying to catch his breath. he looks at the unfinished project beside you, biting his bottom lip to keep himself from smiling. you notice this, raising an eyebrow, “what are you smiling about? is this funny to you? we just—“

“yes. we just made out. in my bed.” he cuts you off, looking you in the eye once again. you wanted to look away, growing shy under his gaze, but you find yourself not doing so. “didn’t think you were capable of that. always thought you were the saving yourself after marriage type of girl.”

your eyes widen in surprise, pushing him off. “e-excuse me! you act like you just fucked me in your mattress, which you didn’t, and we won’t ever do!” partially a lie. now that he mentioned it, you couldn’t stop thinking about that scenario now after that incredible almost experience. “and besides, i am that type of girl. i have huge respect for myself.”

jake smiled even wider at your response, “right. i’m not saying you don’t. but i gotta say, i wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

did you hear that correctly? did he just say he wouldn’t mind doing that again?!

well, to be fair, you honestly wouldn’t mind either.

you shake your head, “oh, shove off! let’s pretend that never happened. keep that between us.” you point a finger towards him, “say a word to anyone else and i will cut your balls off. that isn’t a threat, it’s a promise.”

“oh y/n, i know better than to disobey you.” jake replied, holding your hand in his and pressing a kiss to the finger you pointed at him. you could see the mischievous glint in his eye and you wanted nothing more than to slap (kiss, no, scratch that) smirk off his face, but that would mean you were in the losing round in a game that was never played in the first place.

not yet at least. oh god, what the hell were you thinking?

you gulp quietly, nodding at him, and quickly turned to the project in front of you. “right. we’re finished with our short break, l-let’s continue working. we’re not nearly done with this.” great. distract yourselves from what happened. that’s a good idea. put it all behind you and him.

you couldn’t exactly look him in the eye when saying that, so you could probably guess all that jake heard from you was blah blah blah. fortunately for you, jake hummed beside you and continued to work, acting completely oblivious (or so you’d like to assume) to what you were feeling right now.

once you went home, you were going to spend the whole night thinking about this. not just about what happened, but what jake responded to your embarrassing outburst.

“right. i’m not saying you don’t. but i gotta say, i wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

now why on earth would he say that to you?

══════*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*══════

chapter list! (tentative)

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

══════*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*══════

©2024 ©woniehugs

[lulunothulu]

“Phone neighbor”

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: You’re bored one night and decide to text your phone neighbor…who happens to be a very hot (and cocky) aviator.

Content: drinking, fluff

Friday nights are so boring. Especially when you have nothing to do for the night.

Your friend, Natasha, invited you to go to the bar she and her aviator buddies frequent. Hard Deck, was that the name? Who knows. Either way, you didn’t think hitting a bar right now would do you much good.

You’d been in a reclusive and lonely mood all week but right now, you were feeling adventurous.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and dial the first nine digits of your number but changed the last number to the following one that came after yours.

Let’s play a game of phone number neighbor.

You: Hi, so this is random, but you’re my number neighbor.

Them: Oh really?

You: Yes… so you’re from Texas too?

Them: Born and raised in Austin.

You: That’s so cool, I was raised in El Paso and Houston.

Them: Nice! Are you still there?

You: Nah, I’m in California. How about you?

Them: Funny enough, I’m in California too. I’m in the Navy, a pilot 🤠

You: Oh shit! You might know my friend, Natasha Trace.

———

Jake smiled down at his phone. “Hey Phoenix!”

Nat turns around, rolling her eyes at him. “What?”

“I think I just met your friend.”

“What?” She looks around. “Where? And who?”

“I don’t know their name, let me ask,” he says. He looks down at his phone, sending a quick text before smiling and telling her your name.

“Holy shit!” She laughs.

“Is she single?” Jake asks.

“She is actually…give me a second.”

———

“Hello?” You say, answering your phone.

“What the hell are you doing?” Nat asks.

You can hear the noise and chatter coming from the bar you knew she’d be at.

“I’m at home doing a face mask,” you tell her.

“No I mean, with Hangman,” she tells you.

“Who’s Hangman?”

“The person you’re texting?” She laughs.

Hangman: So you know Phoenix? How?

You: We grew up together. She’s practically my sister.

“Hey, he’s texting me right now,” you tell her.

“I have an idea.”

Hangman: What do you look like?

You: I’ll send you a picture of you send me one too.

Hangman: What? You want proof?

You: Sure, let’s call it that.

Hangman: [Picture]

Hangman: I’m on the left, that’s Bob in the middle, and Fanboy on the end.

Hangman: Your turn.

You smile, sending him a picture of you with your green face mask, hand up in a peace sign and lips in a duck face position.

Hangman: That’s not what I expected but still hot.

Hangman: Wait a second… did Nat call you?

You: Maybe…

[Incoming call from ‘Hangman’]

“Hello?”

“Hey, mask lady. Nat!” You hear him say. His voice is deep and southern drawl thick. “Tell your friend to send me a real picture of her.”

“Y/N?” You hear her say.

“Hey, Nat.”

“Send this pretty boy your face. He’s desperate and threatening to make me drive him to your house.”

You laugh. “Fine. Should I send the one with my tits pushed up?”

“Jesus Christ, tell her yes.” You hear Hangman say in the background.

“Tell him that I’ll send him a normal one and to stop listening to our conversation,” you tell Nat. “Actually, pass him back.”

“Hi,” you hear Hangman say.

“Hi back, cowboy,” you reply.

“I like that nickname, makes me sound a lot cooler than I am,” he tells you.

You laugh. “I’d like to know your real name, and not your callsign.”

“I’m Jake. Jake Seresin,” he tells you. “You don’t have to tell me your name. I already know.”

“Yeah I figured that much,” you mutter.

“When can I see you in person?” He asks.

“When are you free?” You smile and bite your lip.

“How about now? Come to Hard Deck.”

“I don’t really do bars…”

“Then I’ll come to you. What’s your address?”

You laugh. “I don’t even know you like that. What if you’re a psycho?”

“I wouldn’t be a top pilot in the navy sweetheart.” You chuckle, making him wait before he asks, “Soooo can I come over?”

“Have you been drinking?”

“Not really,” he tells you.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You can come over. But bring food, I’m starving.” You tell him.

“Same,” he tells you. “And it’ll give you enough time to get ready and wash that face mask off.”

Fuck I forgot about that.

“I’ll see you soon.”

———

A face wash, makeup application, and teeth brushing later, you hear Hangman—Jake—ring the doorbell.

After changing into some cute sweats, you run downstairs and answer the door.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey yourself,” he says. He’s a lot taller than you thought he’d be. And a lot hotter than you thought too. He holds up a bag of takeout and a gym bag. “I brought food and a change of clothes.”

He’s wearing his khaki Aviation uniform still.

“Yeah, come on in.” You step to the side, allowing him to come in. “Bathroom’s down the hall and to the left.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he smiles.

God his smile made him so much hotter.

When he comes back from the bathroom changed and in gray sweatpants and a Texas Longhorns shirt, you smile and wave him over to your couch.

“What’re you watching?” He asks.

“Nothing that the moment,” you tell him. “I was waiting for you.”

“How sweet.” He smiles. “This has to be the best first date I’ve a been on in a long time.”

“Who said this was a date?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Oh, did I assume?” He cockily smirks at you which makes your cheeks turn red. “And from the way you’re blushing, I’d say you’d like this to be a date.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, a smile playing on your lips.

Two hours later, Jake is still at your place and your head is resting on his shoulder.

“That was a cute movie,” he tells you. “Why did I cry so much?”

“Because Toy Story 3 is ruthless,” you sigh, wiping your eyes.

“Either way, I don’t think I can sleep if we don’t watch something else.”

You sit up and face him. “Why? You too sad to leave?”

“No, I don’t want to leave yet,” he says truthfully. “Plus, it’s my turn to choose a movie.”

“Which is?”

“Legally Blonde.”

You smile, scoffing before laughing and shaking your head. “You surprise me.”

“In a good way, I hope.”

“Definitely,” you nod.

“Can I surprise you one more time?” He asks, voice barely over a whisper.

You shrug and smirk. “Depends on what it is.”

He places a hand on your cheek, snaking his fingers to the back of your neck.

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

“That counts as a question,” you whisper.

He chuckles. “That one doesn’t count.”

“Go ahead.”

He takes a deep breath, leaning in close to the point his nose touches your own. Your heart is pounding, excitement and anticipation flowing through your body.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please do.”

So he does, soft and sweet at first. That is, until you pull his head in, deepening the kiss. Your mouths race, devouring and exploring every inch of your mouths. You shift your body, straddling Jake’s lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, something you notice feels so normal, you don’t want it to end.

“Take me upstairs.” You order.

“Yes ma’am.”

[princesitangelita]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ after swearing up and down that you can’t make a sale, jim lets you answer his phone to give it a try. his elaborate plan to prove himself right goes south as soon as the man on the other line buys a heaping amount of paper in exchange for your phone number..

warnings: flirty banter, teasing, fluff, mild humor, slight tension (?), jim being a little jealous (a lot, actually), close proximity

a/n: first jim prompt :,) feel free to send in req’s!

wc: 1.1k

“..but why? why do you think it’s impossible for me to sell paper?” jim was leaning over the counter of the receptionist desk, both of your faces not far from one another’s. “because you answer the phone like this!” he taunted your high pitched ‘customer service’ voice, your cheeks heating as you giggled quietly. “i do not sound like that!” jim smiled when you accidentally snorted, your eyes widening in embarrassment. phyllis looked over at you two, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “there’s a reason you didn’t get the sales position, ditzy.”

you gasped, slapping his arm playfully. “that’s a low blow, halpert!” shaking your head, you opened up the spreadsheet michael had forwarded to you, “and by the way, my insane typing skills got me this position. i get to sit and look pretty all day..” jim nodded, eyes flittering down to the soft curve of your lips. “yeah, that you do.” his voice dropped down a few octaves, the sound paired up with his words made butterflies flutter in your tummy. the girls were so going to be hearing about this later.

you met his eyes for a brief moment, both of you clearing your throats awkwardly at the sudden energy shift. “seriously though, how hard could it be?” just as you asked him, his phone began ringing. “wanna find out?” you were up on your feet, basically buzzing with excitement as you followed jim over to his desk. the last thing jim expected you to do was bend over the hardwood his phone was rested on, his distressed glare finding the cameraman. dwight was eyeing you with pinched eyebrows, wondering what the hell you two were up to now.

for his own sake, jim didn’t dare glance down at your backside in that tight pencil skirt of yours, instead he took his seat, pushing himself all the way in under his desk before motioning for you to answer the damned thing. flashing an innocent smile at dwight, he rolled his eyes as you put the receiver to your ear. “jim halpert speaking!” jim closed his eyes, holding in a laugh as he muted the call. “you have to say your name, not mine..” the realization dawned on you, a little ‘oh, that’s right!’ leaving your lips before he unmuted you.

chirping your name into the phone, the man on the other side of the line sounded confused as he carried on. “hello, is this dunder mifflin? the paper company.” you hummed, drawing a few stares from oscar and stanley. “hi there, my name is jonathan and i was tasked with choosing the best paper for my office, and i came across this number. if you don’t mind, i just had a few questions.” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “of course, i’d be happy to provide you with answers!” jim leaned in, listening closely to the call.

“why should i choose dunder mifflin as my business’s official paper supplier?” it was a simple question, but it still had you wracking your brain for what you should say. “uhm.. well! here at dunder mifflin, we have the best sales representatives always just one phone call away! we will keep your office and/or work space stocked with only the highest quality of paper, card stock, and many more! all at an amazing price as well, and you didn’t hear this from me.. but if you buy in bulk, you get major steals.” jim was flabbergasted. maybe he should be a receptionist instead. this was your desk now.

“wow! that sounds amazing. you really checked all of my boxes.” he laughed, a hint of flirting evident in his tone. “yeah? well i usually do.” jim looked at the side of your face, his gaze burning hot. “i bet.. look, this might come across as really weird, but gosh your voice is so pretty, it’s a nice change from the usual montone robots answering these phones.” you chuckled, the sound making jim want to snatch the thing out of your hand. dwight noticed this, a smug look taking over his features.

michael had his head poking out of his door, the entire office now listening in on your conversation. “put it on speaker!” erin whispered, everyone agreeing in unison. jim sighed, already not liking where this was going. “oh trust me, i know,” you spoke, “but would you be interested in hearing any of my offers?” you motioned for jim to pull up the package deals sheet on his computer. “please, enlighten me.” you gasped, raising your eyebrows at the man next to you. jim was quick to cover the scowl on his face, a fake smile gracing his lips as he pulled up december’s spreadsheet.

“okayyy! so starting off with the most expensive package, for five hundred dollars a month, you get a weekly delivery on your paper, and this includes an unlimited card stock supply that i can personally guarantee will arrive on time, all the time—”

“i’ll take it.” you blinked, dwight’s grin dropping from his face.

“r-really?! you don’t want to hear about my other packages?” jonathan, the man on the other line let out a disapproving hum. “no, i’ve heard quite enough, i’d love to make a deal with you though.” everyone exchanged looks, you and jim meeting each other’s eyes for the first time during this entire ordeal. “okay, may i please get your information?” you took the phone off of speaker, everyone, including michael, groaning in frustration. “i wanted to hear the deal!” kevin shook his head. angela made a face, turning around in her seat as she resumed watching cat videos on youtube.

you were quiet for a few moments, your eyes widening as jonathan stated his offer. “..so what you’re telling me is; in exchange for purchasing the five hundred dollar package, you want my phone number?” the office went into an uproar, dwight shooting out of his seat. “what is this? a phone sex hotline?!” jim couldn’t stand to listen to another second of this, his index finger reaching out and pressing the ‘end call’ button. you yelped, dropping the phone on his desk. “jim, what the hell?! i totally had that in the bag!” you stood up, a series of shouts sounding around the office.

“transfer him to my phone right now!” meredith shouted, jim wasting no time in giving her the number. “alright, ditzy, you could sell paper.” he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, clearing his throat as he made eye contact with one of the cameras in the corner. you may be lacking a bit in the logical department, but you were an expert when it came to reading jim, and right now? he looked nothing short of jealous. you leaned down next to his ear. “well i’m glad we could settle that, halpert.” jim swallowed thickly, your perfume diminishing all of his senses.

[gojonanami]

"MIGHT HURT" - SUGURU GETO

✴︎ summary: suguru's popularity is truly a curse, especially when he gets hit on right in front of you. luckily, you both know how to handle those situations. aka i heard this scene from 'no hard feelings' and i had to write a fic about it. ✴︎ contents:: jealousy, crack, fluff, humor, made-up girl from suguru's middle school before he came to jjt, naoya mention ✴ wc: 788

With the two princes of Jujutsu High, it was unfortunate that you had to date the more popular one. 

And no, it wasn’t Satoru. 

Suguru Geto is the more popular one — probably because of his manners, compared to Satoru’s…bluntness. It didn’t hurt that he was polite, a prodigy, and a perfect prince. And how could you complain? 

Except at moments like this you did. 

It was supposed to be a simple mission. And it was. Two grade A curses the two of you exorcise with ease, and now you had one more night to spend at the hotel Jujutsu High had kindly booked — some of the only real alone time two of you rarely had — without Satoru bursting into either one of your dorms (whether the door was locked or not). 

“Finally a date, a real date,” you sigh, walking hand in hand with him, “should we commemorate with a picture?” 

He smiles, rolling his eyes, “I left my phone at the hotel — I didn’t want any interruptions,” and you grin, as he leans in, breath warming your lips like an invitation, “just you and me, Princess,” 

“I like the sound of that,” you murmur — how was it he still could make your heart skip a beat like that? — utterly unfair. And your lips nearly brush when a voice interrupts you. 

“Geto?” Your heads snap over, as the two of you untangle yourselves. A girl in an unfamiliar high school uniform walks over, “it’s you, how are you?” Her lips are curled too widely, her eyes too eager, and her body language completely ignoring your presence. 

Oh, what the f- 

“Fumi?” He asks, lips in that same smile he gave everyone, the painted polite grin he plastered on, “it’s been a long time,” 

“It has. I heard you are going to a school in Tokyo now,” she smiles, “I stay in Tokyo with my family sometimes, we should meet up. I can you give my number,” 

Suguru opens his mouth to reply, but you cut in, a tight lipped smile on your face, “He doesn’t have his phone, so…” you reply, and she acknowledges your existence for a moment, gaze finally sliding to you. 

“Oh, then maybe I can give you my number and you can send it to him,” she offers, and you tilt your head. 

“No need,” and you can see Suguru glance between the two of you, his hands in his pocket. 

“Can’t hurt,” she flutters her eyelashes at Suguru, pouting, and you wonder if she would count as another curse you could exorcise. Although surely a fly head was more trouble than she would be. 

“Might hurt,” and Suguru’s arm snakes around your waist, physically reigning you in. 

“Me and my girlfriend actually have to get back to school, but it was nice to see you again, Fumi,” and he’s scrawling a number down, “here’s my number,” he waves, before ushering you off. She tries to stop you two, to no avail, as Suguru uses a small curse to draw her attention away for a moment before recalling it. 

“Was that necessary?” 

“Well I think using a cursed spirit was preferable to you beating her with your cursed tool, wouldn’t you agree?” he scoffs, but he can’t keep his lips from curling into a smile, “I didn’t really give her my number,” 

“I know,” you were irritated - not stupid. You knew Suguru wouldn’t cheat on you, but you hear a noise escape his throat — and you know he’s laughing. 

And it looks could kill, he would have been as dead as those curses from earlier, “you find this funny, don’t you?” 

“You getting jealous of some girl I barely knew from middle school? Yes, I do,” he snorts, mirth in his tone, “but I could go back and give her my real number if you want,” 

“Do that, and you won’t have to worry Fumi getting hurt, because she won’t be the one getting their ass kicked,” and he laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, before his lips find yours — and you can feel him smile against your lips, “it’s really annoying that all these people flirt with you, but I guess it’s only because my boyfriend’s hot,” 

“Got a catch didn’t you?” he hums, pressing another kiss to your lips. 

“Lucky me,” you mumble, sarcasm heavy on your tongue, and he’s kissing you more insistently, showering your face with kisses until you smile, pushing him off, giggling, “ok, ok! I’m lucky,” you sigh, burying your face in the crook of his neck again as the two of you walk, “whose number did you give her anyway? Satoru?” 

“No, Naoya,” and you snort, pressing a kiss to your devious boyfriend’s cheek. 

“Poor girl.” 

✴︎ a/n: i watched no hard feelings last night and i couldn't get this idea out of my head. i was gonna write it with gojo, but i remembered how gege said geto was more popular so :)

[sturnsmadl]

enemy!chris headcannons!

warnings!-mostly just angst and chris being a huge dick, swearing, mentions of self harm, slight bodyshaming, bullying, mentions of nudes, kissing, male masturbation, mentions of sex, light fluff, player chris.

enemy!chris who hates all your boyfriends and ex's.

"wheres the ugly guy your always with lately?"

"we broke up.."

"thank god. he bored the shit out of me."

enemy!chris who makes you feel like shit for fun.

"im gonna go get lunch if you wanna-"

"of course you are. always eating."

enemy!chris who still denys he likes you.

"your in love with her. we all see it."

"no im not.."

"the denial is crazy."

enemy!chris who doesn't let you go on dates.

enemy!chris who constantly makes sneaky comments.

enemy!chris who is always looking at your body.

enemy!chris who never lets you get your own way.

"can we go target instead?"

"oh yeah! i love-"

"actually walmarts good."

"can you just fucking decide?!"

enemy!chris who makes excuses like crazy.

"i was drunk." "i dont know. i was tired." "phone got hacked."

enemy!chris who you regret hooking up with.

"wasnt saying all this when you were under me."

"shutup. i regret that everyday."

"oh.."

enemy!chris who goes through your phone while your asleep.

enemy!chris who is always harsh with you.

"im gonna go to the gym when i-"

"thats a shocker."

enemy!chris who blocks all the boys off your phone.

enemy!chris who always asks for you to send.

"hi."

"what?"

"you tryna send something?"

enemy!chris who doesn't let you get a word in.

"oh nick did i tell you about-"

"god no one fucking cares..shut the fuck up for once."

enemy!chris who hooks up with girls all the time so you know your just a number.

"u said i was.."

"different? yeah. i say that a lot huh?"

enemy!chris who breaks your lock when he finds out you hurt yourself.

"fuck..where are you?!"

"bathroom.."

enemy!chris who keeps an eye on you at parties.

enemy!chris who shows you up when your in a group.

"i got this new shirt and its like-"

"suprised you could afford it."

"chris.."

enemy!chris who feels slightly bad when he finds you crying because of his words.

"are you...okay..?"

"do i look okay?!"

"uhh..no..?"

enemy!chris who stares at you when you scream at him.

"AND YOU CANT KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS CAN YOU?!"

"well..i-"

"EVERYTIME I TRY SPEAK YOU HAVE TO INSULT ME!!"

enemy!chris who kisses you to shut you up.

"chris your really starting to-"

kisses you

enemy!chris who hugs you to his chest when you cry.

"shh..your okay.."

"its not i-"

"your getting makeup on my white shirt."

"oh fuck off chris."

enemy!chris who gets caught jerking off to your pictures.

"fuck!..nghm..y/n.."

"chris have you seen-"

"what?! get out!!"

enemy!chris who finally admits everything.

"sorry..i was just too scared to admit my own feelings.."

"oh..i mean..nick said-"

"doesnt matter. im sorry."

enemy!chris who actually feels guilty.

"but..you said all that stuff so quick like you didnt even think.."

"i know..i didnt mean it. i was just a dick."

enemy!chris who loves make-up sex.

"yeah? fuck your tight..you feel that?"

"yeah! fuck chris.."

a/n this is a lot but its kinda my favourite one lol. i like angst so thats probably why :) needed to put some warnings which i probably should from now on for all tbh. im very aware that chris would never act like this!!! mafia matt might be out tommorow depends how im feeling tbh.

taglist! @bellaonthelow @hrtsdollie @moonk1ss3d @sturnclouds @christophersgf @ellizzyy @fratbrochrisgf @phoenix062 @pixxiies @conspiracy-ash @blahbel668 @monroesturnns @gwennybenny @sturnobsessedwh0re @xoxo4chriss @pixie-sticks-are-good @wurlibydominicfike @anitahunt @ilusa @mattstrombolii @stvrlighht @asherrisrandom @amelia-sturniolo3

[sofs16]

a paddock day

charles x civilian!reader

yn

liked by yourbsf, and 12 others yn yo soy muy feliz aqui ! hasta mañanaaaaaa barcelona gp, te quiero mucho! [i am very happy here! see you tomorrow barcelona gp, i love you very much!]

view all 27 comments

yourbsf finally main girl gets to watch a gp!

⤷ yn literally jumped on this plane last night im shivering and quaking.

yourfriend ATE THAT UPPPPPP!!! WNJOY

⤷ yn THANKS BABESSS

yourbsf im literally telling u they’ll see u and go WOAH WOSH WASH! then theyll fall in love with you and you’ll be those lowkey ass wags

⤷ yn Should I just wear a giant banana costume to get their attention

⤷ yourbsf DUHHHH!!! and go public, theyll stalk you and follow u and ull go famous

⤷ yn what happened to being lowkey ass wag

⤷ yourbsf i can be your wag😊💋

yn instagram stories:

you strolled through the paddock through all motorhomes like a little girl, contained with excitement. a lot of people were there but somehow, not in front of the ferrari motorhome.

you saw a man dressed in all black (kind of stupid since it was burning hot) with black sunglasses as a hat on his head walk you way. “um excuse me? would you mind if you took my photo please?” you approached him as he turned to you

he looked at you but of course, he was wearing the sunglasses so you wouldn’t tell what he was thinking. did he not speak english?

“tu no hablas ingles?” you asked “Oh! No, sorry. I do speak english and of course. Where would you want to take it?” He said in a foreign language.

“Just here” you walked over to the 55 wall “You are a fan of Sainz?” He took your phone as you walked over “Both of them, but my best friend loves him and couldn’t come so I thought I’d send her a photo” you laughed as he did as well.

He took a few photos as you stood in front of the wall. “Leclerc or Sainz, for you?” He asked, handing you back your phone “Both” you said in an obvious manner

“Life or death” he laughed “….Leclerc… though, Ferrari needs to stop fucking him over so he can get another win” You shrugged, putting your phone in your pocket as he nodded with a smile. “You?” “Leclerc!” He exclaimed as you giggled, this man was quite fun.

“I lit a few candles today in hopes he might win, I really hope he does. Or any Ferrari win” You said “Do you have a number?” He asked stupid question he thought “I’m sorry— that was a stupid question” you laughed “Do you mind if we exchanged them?” You scratched you head “Um… ad much as I want to, I don’t exchange numbers with random attractive guys, I’m sorry” you laughed “Attractive? Thank you” “Well seeing as I can only see half your face…” you felt your phone start to vibrate and saw your friend calling you

“I have to go but it was lovely meeting you! I hope we get our Leclerc win today!” You started to walk backwards “You too!” You turned around, putting your phone to your ear as you head your best friend’s scream, unknowing that Charles’ eyes lingered on you.

It was only free practice today. He hoped to see you around more.

liked by 20 others yn LALALALALA

view all 32 comments

yourbsf LETS GO BITCH 55!!!!!!! yourbsf still think u shouldve given hottie your instagram

⤷ yn i got NERVOUS

june 2, 2023

liked by 21 others yn POLE POSITION LETS GO BABYGIRL

view all 23 comments

yourbsf CHARLES BABYGIRL LECLERC

⤷ yn FUCK YEAH

june 3, 2023

You were admiring the paddock once again, now race day, as you heard the familiar voice behind you. “I hope we get our Leclerc win today” you hear behind you and you start to smile. You turned around and your heart sank to your ass.

Charles babygirl Leclerc was smiling at you “excuse me?” you mumbled, mouth slightly ajar “I know, I was in a more casual outfit yesterday” he laughed and you looked him up and down, wearing his red Ferrari suit “es muy stúpida” you mumbled

“I know you maybe think this is weird but— I could really not stop thinking about you for the last few days and have been trying to find you” He chuckled softly as you felt like you hit your head on the pavement. Charles Leclerc looking for YOU?

“Well, you found me! Congrats on pole by the way” “Thank you! Though I hope to win tomorrow, for the both of us” “Oh please, I can’t take another Ferrari loss” you closed your eyes.

“You are spanish?” He asked “Oh, no! I just like learning languages and visit here a lot” you said “Would you mind… if you showed me Barcelona some time?” was he asking you out? “I- uhm- sure” you fumbled “You don’t give your number, so what about Instagram?” He smiled

“Sure” you grabbed your phone and showed it to him as he searched it up on his phone and suddenly, he was being called by fans. “It was nice seeing you again!” You walked as fast as you could to the other side and he smiled, shaking his head. yn

| charles_leclerc has requested to follow you! 1h

request accepted!

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 25 others

yn did not go with the banana outfit @yourbsf. so so sad its over BUT WE GOT A FUCKING LECLERC WIN AND DOUBLE FERRARI PODIUM LETS GO

view all 40 comments

yourbsf babes idt u needed the outfit…….

⤷ yn 🙂.

charles_leclerc You are welcome

⤷ yn thank you (and carlitos) for stopping the ferrari drought

yourfriend 😊 LETS GO BITCH

june 4, 2023

| charles_leclerc liked your story. 10m

| charles_leclerc liked your post. 7m

| charles_leclerc liked your post. 3m

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 12 others

yn mb my definition of “explore” is a museum LECLERC

view all 20 comments

charles_leclerc I enjoyed every moment, stop apologizing cherie. We need another one for more exploring! june 8, 2023

charles.16

liked by 2,594 others

charles.16 WHO IS THIS NEW WAG

view all 179 comments

chalando1 chilll probs just a fan

⤷ charles.16 they 😭 exchanged 😭 instagrams😭

updatef1I I FOUND HER @yn

⤷ yn no you didn’t

[COMMENT DELETED!]

f1w4gs SHES SO FUNNY I LOVE HER ALREADY june 8, 2023

f1wags._

liked by 3,281 others

f1wag._ Meet Yn Yln! Charles and her have been spending more time together and were rumored to have met in the Barcelona GP! We don’t know much about her as she’s very private but we’re already loving her humor!

#charlesleclerc #yn

view all 219 comments

f1circuitzz Whatt!!! She’s so beautiful

chacha16 What does she do and what country does she live in?

⤷ f1wag._ We know she is German but we don’t know if she still lives there. She’s a fashion student but don’t know what college/university!

ynsfan11 giggling at the bio

yncharles NEED HER AT THE PADDOCK / GARAGE AGAIN

user1 watch them be together for a week

user3 charles switched to blondes 🌝

june 8, 2023

charlesaep

liked by 6,272 others

charlesaep I CANT BREATHE YN AND CHARLES WERE RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME IM SWESTING IM CURING WHETHTHRUFKC

view all 328 comments

User1 why can’t she just walk

⤷ yntcdts calm down😭 theyre cute

june 10, 2023

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 8 others

yn i got a photographer now 🥹

view all 20 comments charles_leclerc i am “a photographer”

⤷ yourbsf i was THE photographer before you Charles Leclerc. ⤷ charles_leclerc But I am now her favorite one😂

⤷ yourbsf I HATE YOU. YN DUMP HIM

⤷ charles_leclerc NO

⤷ yn why would i dump him? he’s a 2 in one (driver and photographer) / im kidding sharl loveu

⤷ charles_leclerc I mean, I do love driving you around

⤷ yourbsf you both are disgusting

⤷ yn get dick

june 11, 2023

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 11 others yn is this montREAL?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? view all 8 comments

charles_leclerc I love it when my girl is a fangirl 😘

charles_leclerc ma belleeeeeeeeee

yourbsf Can I come

⤷ charles_leclerc Am I the best friend

⤷ yourbsf oh fuck you

charles_leclerc Your caption is funny, I love it

⤷ yn thanks sharlie 🥹🥹🥹❤️‍🩹

june 13, 2023

| yukitsunoda0511 has requested to follow you! 1h

| pierregasly has requested to follow you! 1h | landonorris has requested to follow you! 1h | carlossainz55 has requested to follow you! 1h

| fernandoalo_oficial has requested to follow you! 1h

| francisca.cgomez has requested to follow you! 1h

| carmenmmundt has requested to follow you! 1h

you just accepted 7 requests

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 30 others

yn SOOO PROUD!!!! CHARLES CAME BACK AND IS NOW A WORLD CHAMPION IM SHAKING?! CONGRATS TO FERRARI ON BEING GETTING WORLD CONSTRUCTORS CHAMPIONSHIP AS WELL IM SHAKING

view all 59 comments

charles_leclerc Could not have done this without you, chérie

⤷ yn love u sm babyyyyy⛄️ im scared though why are half the grid following me back (i ofc accepted)

⤷ landonorris because he just ranted to us for TWO HOURS (he always does but for a few mins) about you and how amazing you are, mate! Had to see what the fuss was about

⤷ charles_leclerc Thanks, Lando.

⤷ yn IM GOING TO CRYYYY LOVEU SHARL

francisca.cgomez You’re such a beauty!!! Loved seeing you today💞 Congrats, Charles!

october 22, 2023

charles_leclerc

liked by yn, and 8,559,282 others

charles_leclerc Another post about the Championship but this time for the person beside me who motivated me the most. My beautiful girlfriend, @yn, you are my everything. I love you more than you love pasta❤️

view all 1,181,292 comments

yn good morning?????????????????? WHAT

yn YOU DID THISBALL YOURSELF IM SO PROUD OF YOU LFG

⤷ yn ball

⤷ yncha16 AHAHAHAHAH SHES SO SILLY

⤷ charles_leclerc Without you, I wouldn’t push myself! So technically, you helped. ⤷ yn id do it again ml

ynsbabe yn public when

⤷ yn when sharl learns how to cook pasta 👨‍🍳

⤷ charles_leclerc Goodluck @ynsbabe

october 23, 2023

#SOF : are we feelin a part 2 ??? #FUTURE SOF: pt2!

[jayparked]

heeseung and 44? 💕 congrats on 1k babii 💪🏽

warnings: strong language, brat tamer hee, implied oral (m rec), you're bad at video games and kinda mean :(

"are you fucking serious?" you scoff, hands slamming down on your keyboard as your teammates get you killed yet again. "are we just playing healers for funsies? for the aesthetics? no- this is bullshit, don't lock in a character if you don't know how to fucking play them!"

a light tap on your shoulder makes you jump, one hand instinctively coming up to move part of your headset off your ear.

"heeseung? when did you get home?"

"just now," he smiles softly, cupping the side of your face and gesturing his head towards the monitors, "sounds like you're not having a good time."

your anger melts away now that your boyfriend is here. pouting, you nuzzle into his touch and sigh slowly. "my teammates are so stupid," you mutter through your pouted lips, "no one knows how to play their characters or the game in general."

heeseung chuckles slightly, brushing his thumb along your jawline before leaning down to look at your match stats.

"you're playing dps but you're not carrying at all," he tsks.

"it would be easier if my entire team pitched in even just a little bit and did their fucking jobs."

"no don't be like that," he scolds playfully, "as a dps you should be able to carry your weight, whether your support is good or not. in fact, looks like you placed lower than your support teammates. start another match." he points to where you sat on the match overview and that's when realization sets in. because you were so focused on how your team was doing, you lost your focus and ultimately threw the game.

"start up another match. i'll watch." heeseung smiles, kissing the top of your head before grabbing his own gaming chair and pulling it up next to yours.

as the next match starts, heeseung is intent on watching your gameplay so he can give you pointers and keep you focused. but somewhere along the way, his own focus drifts. he now finds himself watching you, your face to be specific, as an array of profanity leaves your pretty lips. the way your eyebrows furrow and the corners of your mouth turn downwards has him gobsmacked. you certainly don't act this way when you play with him, and, now that he thinks of it, he's never heard you swear so much in all these years you've been together.

the match ends and you huff out another sigh, leaning back into your chair with your arms crossed firmly over your chest. "thought you were gonna help me..." you grumble.

"oh i'm gonna help you," heeseung's tone is lower than before as he stares at you with a dark expression on his face, "i'll show you how easy it is to win even while distracted."

"and how are you gonna do that?" something unexplainable stirs within you as your boyfriend slowly spreads his legs in his chair, beckoning for your headset.

"i'll play the next match. without swearing like a sailor and being mean to my teammates," he says with a smirk.

"sorry. i don't know why it gets so bad when i'm playing." you pout again, handing over your headset reluctantly.

heeseung puts the headset on his head, leaving one ear uncovered, queueing up the next match before he leans back. "how about we put that pretty mouth of yours into good use then, hmm? since you say such dirty things, might as well let it do something about it."

your eyes widen slightly, unable to stop them from roaming down your boyfriend's body and seeing the growing tent in his sweatpants. your stomach drops as the sharp suddenness of arousal takes over you.

"h-how is that gonna help me get better at the game?" you gulp nervously.

"it'll teach you that if you want a foul mouth so bad then we're going to use it the right way. now get on your knees before the game starts."

for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist

[lostintransist]

Seamstress | Part 4

Part 1 here.

John lets the men simmer for two days. Mostly he lets their trip to his seamstress ride to see if they brought it up to him. They didn’t. Guess he would be playing this the sly way.

“Found an old quilt from my grandmother when cleaning out my mum’s house last leave.”

Johnny’s brain sparked on the word association just as John hoped it would.

“Found out I can get my family kilts fixed up and preserved. Met a pretty lass who runs a shop that said it was a possibility.”

“Oh?” John folded his arms across his chest, encouraging Johnny to go on by tilting his head in interest.

“Yeah, pretty bird, kicked us out when we started asking about-”

He cut himself off pretty quick but John gave him a small scary smile.

“Asking about who, Johnny?”

Johnny started to back up, hands raised as he babbled his excuses.

“Finish your excuses and go get the guys.”

Johnny turned tail and fled from the room. His muppets filed in the room, Johnny getting forced by the neck by Simon who glared down at him. Must have wanted to keep this a secret. Should have known better than to tell Johnny. The man couldn’t keep a non-life-threatening secret to save anyone’s life. Kyle and Gary slid in after the duo.

“Muppets. You will leave my seamstress well enough alone or I will make it a problem for you.”

“So she is yours?” Gary piped up from the side.

Shooting him a glare John continued.

“I am grown enough to not explain myself to the lot of you, but if I get a call again about any of you bothering her I will make it everyone’s problem.”

Kyle smirked and spoke out one side of his mouth.

“Seems like Price can’t get a date.”

“Kyle I swear to my god and yours I will make you disappear if you keep it up. If your clothes go missing, just know they will be back. Now get out of here the lot of you.”

His men shared smiles and eye contact.

They hustled from the room when he picked up his blackened coffee mug to throw at one of them.

“Fucking muppets going to send me to an early grave. I don’t even have her phone number yet,” he mumbled to himself as the back of them disappeared.

🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡

You think about John far more often than you should. He is a customer. Yes, he sleeps in your chairs and smiles at you in a way that pulls his cheeks to the moon, and yes he makes your heart flutter the tiniest bit but, but he is a customer who has never shown interest and you refuse to make someone feel uncomfortable in your shop. Your shop was a safe space, for everyone. Your flags are on clear display, so many, many flags, made sure of it.

He stepped through your thoughts carelessly. When you were wandering a superstore you somehow ended up in the camping section. A clearance foldable cot caught your eye and left the store with you. You maneuvered it into your tiny car and into the shop without allowing yourself to question why you had bought it.

John appeared two mornings following your purchase. You smile, wider than you should, at him.

“Hi John, welcome back! Got anything new and interesting for me today?”

Did you sound too chipper?

“Nothing crazy, one of my men needs a mask fixed.”

“Do you always bring in their items? I hope they are paying you at least,” you joke as you take the offered mask.

Spreading it on the counter you look it over, a tear over one ear and one from the eye portion. Both are decently easy fixes but would require your ring light and some time with a hand needle.

Looking up you offer John another smile. Fuck, can you keep the smiles to a minimum? He is going to think you are weird and then stop coming by.

“This shouldn���t take terribly long, I would say maybe an hour?”

John knocked one knuckle against the counter as he nodded. With both hands on the armrests, you remembered the cot in the back.

“Oh, John!”

He paused, ass halfway lowered into the seat.

“I..uh..” you stammer to a stop, unsure of how your words might be received.

“Yes?” He lifts a single brow at you, body not shaking as he waits.

Tucking one arm to your chest and the other to your mouth you speak from behind it.

“I found a cot. I brought it to the shop for you to use if you wanted?”

The words rush out of you, mumbled by your hand, and the speed by which you hurl them.

John stands, moving to stand next to the counter where the floor changes, noting the difference in customer space vs working space.

“What was that dove?”

Tightening your lips before biting the inside of your cheek you force yourself to say your words again. Slower, clearer you speak.

“I have a cot for you. In the back, so that you can sleep.”

His face goes blank as he blinks at you.

He looked a bit like a 404 code in the flesh.

A small smile breaks across his face as color spreads up his cheeks.

“For me?”

“Well,” you tighten both arms around your middle as you reply. “No one else seems to pay me for the privilege of sleeping in my shop, so yes?”

John rubs the back of his neck with one hand.

You awkwardly stare at him. What do you even say now? Do you invite him to lie down? No that sounded weird.

“Do you-”

“Why don-”

You both started and stopped at hearing the other’s voice.

Spinning on your heel you turned towards the storage room, confident John would follow. Popping the door open you can do nothing more than point to the cot, still covered in tape from the store.

John slides by you, chest brushing your arm and shoulder as he does. If you have to fight back the urge to take a bite? Well, he would never need to know.

“I can set it up for you if you don’t mind?” John looks back over his shoulder at you.

Knowing you are beet red you can only nod.

“I bought it for you but didn’t get a chance to,” you gesture at it as if your vague motion will explain all your thoughts.

John’s smile, eyes crinkling and shoulders softening, melted your heart.

“I’ll take care of it and then take a good nap. My men have started to comment that I am nicer to them after I get a nap here.” He knelt, pulling out a pocket knife and slicing open the package.

“Your men?” You lean against the door frame, unabashedly watching. “What is it you do for work John?”

“Special forces, I’m a captain. I lead a group of myself and four other men.”

“Well, that would explain a lot of the smells.”

He looks up at you, brow cocked.

“Smells?”

“Like fire, gunpowder, sweat, sometimes fear.”

“You get a lot of smell knowledge here?”

“I get a lot of everything here,” you shrug, unable to articulate how no matter how clean a piece of cloth some lingering smells clung.

John turns back to his task. You spend far, far too long watching him. The way his shoulders dip and arms change shape as he uses them. When the cot is built and John stands he turns and catches sight of you, you give a panicked smile and flee for the counter where you had left the mask.

Slamming your body into your chair you turned on your ring light, pulled your black thread, and focused diligently on fixing the holes you had been asked to address. John did not reappear for nearly an hour. You had finished the mask sooner than that but had not yet found the fortitude to go and wake him.

The creases on his face matched the lines on the shoulder of his shirt, and the slight drool stain.

“Right on time?”

You smile and nod.

“Well let’s settle up and I will find a reason to be back in a few days.” John returns to the customer side of the counter, sure of himself and you.

“You don’t have to pay me to come nap if that is all you need,” you start.

He cuts you off with a wave of his hand.

“My men are hard on clothes. If I can get you some business I feel less bad about using you for some shut-eye.”

Supposing you had to accept that answer you unlock your tablet and complete the transaction.

Once his card clears you pass over the mask.

“You’re jewelry box should be done by Christmas.”

He drops the statement as if he forgot to bring it up until now.

“Christmas should be fine, I don’t have many plans though I will be out of town the week of Christmas proper. I will be visiting my grandmother.” Paternal grandmother since your mother was not allowed to visit, but no need to mention that.

“We will have to find some time to ensure I can get you the gift then,” he smiled as he said it.

“I told you I would pay for it John,” you chide.

With a shrug, he tucked the mask into his pocket and stepped back from the counter.

“Can’t pay me for a Christmas present dove.”

With that, he waved and pushed through the front door.

“The hell I can’t,” you spoke to the empty shop.

Part 3 | Part 5

Masterlist

[ch0k3herwithaseaview]

@jegulus-microfic | feb 7 star | words: 1037

Hi so I went a bit overboard with this one but I’m having so much fun writing those you guys have no idea

Anyways enjoy <3

GUYS IT HAS PART 2 NOW WTFFF

James

pads i need you to come here like RIGHT NOW

Pads

???

Who are you?

James looked at the message confused.

James

your best friend?? who needs your help with your dog?????

Pads

Wrong number.

Now he was super confused. He talked with Sirius this morning. He called this number and he talked with Sirius.

James

this is really not the time for pranks pads

moony isnt answering his phone and gigi is vomiting all over my place

what do i do???????

The answer didn’t come right away, but when it did his confusion grew even further. He was trying to give the poor Gigi a bowl to puke into when he read ‘I might know what happened. Send me the address, I’m coming over.’ Without thinking twice he shared his location with the person who was supposed be his best mate. After that, he put down his phone and went back to calming Gigi and giving her some water. If it works for people, it should work for a dog, right? RIGHT???

15 minutes later he heard the doorbell ring and that’s when it hit him. Sirius knows where he lives. Sirius wouldn’t take this long to get to his precious child, as he calls the black mass of fur on James’ carpet. This really wasn’t Sirius.

His first reaction was panic - who the fuck did he send his address to? Then he thought he could pretend he’s not here. But what about Gigi?

When the doorbell rang for the second time, he decided to text that person.

James

who are you again?

Pads

Open the door. I’m not going to kill you.

Or am I?

Now he was scared. Although it was a bit funny, he had to give them that.

Slowly he went to the door, checking in the viewfinder who is on the other side. Unfortunately the person had their back turned to him so it didn’t give him anything. With shaky hands he turned the key and opened the doors with a gentle creak. Hearing that, the person in front of him turned and- wow.

The snow-white face was surrounded by a delicate halo of black waves. His strong jaw and sharp cheekbones could make him look rough if it weren't for his soft, pink lips, turned up in a gentle smile, and his eyes. Eyes in which you could immerse yourself as if in an endless, silvery cloud of stardust.

“Hi there, Sunshine” Sirius’ younger brother said passive-aggressively. Ah, nothing has changed since school. Also, it would explain the ‘wrong number’’ thing. Somehow?

“Hello, Little Star” James replied with a nervous smile, after clearing his throat several times. They stayed there in the doorway for few seconds, intense enough to make it feel like hours.

Finally, James cleared his throat for the last time and turned, letting Regulus in. “Thank god you’re not a murderer” he laughed lightly as he led his guest (his one-man-rescue-team?) to the living room, where Gigi was shaking under fluffy blanket.

“Did you give her something?” Regulus asked, kneeling next to the poor thing.

“What? No! Why and what would I give her?” James burst out, terrified of the accusation. What if he accidentally gave her something he shouldn’t have and now she’s going to die? That would mean he was going to die shortly after. Oh no, oh no, oh-

“Calm down, I was just making sure. Look at your carpet” Reg grumbled pointing at the destroyed thing.

“Yeah, I know - she puked at it like a thousand times. No need to point it out” James huffed, now irritated a bit by Regulus’ rudeness.

“I- That’s not what I meant” shorter man laughed softly, such a sweet sound. “She ate a pice of it, look at the right corner.”

“What do you- oh” in the whole mess oh vomits he didn’t even notice a part of the carpet disappeared. “So she was just-“

“Clearing her stomach, yeah” Reg smiled at him crookedly. “She did the same to my shoe last week. Just give her some water for now and we’ll take her to the vet.”

“What do you mean we? I can handle a vet appointment” James said, pouring some water for his goddaughter (yes, she’s his goddaughter, fuck off).

“No, you can’t. Now take her, I’ll drive” Regulus said strutting out of the room. James just lifted the, whatsoever, heavy dog and ran after his best friend’s brother.

He asked Reg to close the door behind them and take the key. The clinic wasn’t far away from his flat, but either way it felt like forever to get there since Regulus refused to talk to him, because ‘it distracts him’.

When they finally got there, the vet just laughed at them for coming to her for the second time in a week and cooed at Gigi, mumbling something about her ’cool uncles not being very good for her’ (hopefully jokingly but who knows). She checked if Gigi was alright, gave her some medicine and asked them to come in few days for checkup.

Walking out of the clinic Regulus asked James if he needed any help with cleaning up after Gigi’s accident.

“Actually yeah, would you help me?” he replied with hopeful eyes.

“I literally just suggested that” Reg said, rolling his eyes.

So, they did just that. They rolled the destroyed carpet, cleaned the floor and some of the mess left on the sofa Gigi was sleeping soundly in the corner of.

When they finished, Regulus went to the door, with James thanking him all the way down the hall. They stood in the doorway again, same intense silence between them as before.

Reg cleared his throat. “So, I’m gonna go now. Bye.”

James nodded slightly. “Thanks again” he said once more, getting a fond eye roll from the other man. With that Regulus turned and went to the elevator. Then…

“Hey, Reg?” He turned again, one brow raised. James gather himself, swallowed thickly and on the exhale, almost shy, he asked “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

The younger man stood there, both brows raised now. Slowly he smiled at James and nodded.

“I would love to, actually.”

[finniestoncrane]

Ik this is sorta late depending on time zones and this ask being cheesy as hell but what would the Riddlers do for Valentine's Day with reader? Something cheesy asf? Or not celebrating it at all? I wanna know I'm curious as hell now

Valentine's Date

Riddler Headcanons gosh i rushed so fast to get this done today!! luckily, it was a blessing as work was SLOW! so here are the boys and how they would celebrate valentine's day in my mind because i am down bad for them all and live in a fantasy world where they would all try and do something nice for you 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: suggestive stuff but it's mostly fluff!!

young justice

i can almost guarantee that if you're spending valentine's day with him, it'll be the first one he's had with a partner

so he is pushing the boat out. or... as best as he can... what with the nerves

he wouldn't do something too extravagant, not too fancy or big. that would only increase the number of people he might embarrass himself in front of

he's far more keen on taking you to a quiet, unexpected but comfortable restaurant with quiet music and only a few tables, so he can talk to you and hear you properly

he'd buy you a single rose, hire the violinist to play a song by your table, your favourite tune

no dancing, he's got two left feet, but he will reach across the table and hold your hand, stroking it with his thumb and looking into your eyes

and when he takes you home, he'll walk you to your door and offer you a shy, reserved kiss

whether or not you pull him through the door by his tie and ravage the poor beast is up to you

unburied

he wouldn't actually ask you out for valentine's day

he'd give you a rant about capitalism and how it's a made up holiday and that you should keep your calendar clear anyway just in case he decides to do an ironic date

you'd think his goal was to embarrass you, in fact, because he's showing up to your house with a little remote control and blasting your favourite song out of every speaker system you own

"hey, sh... don't ask how i know your favourite song or how i got control of your devices. just... stop thinking about it. hey. hey! you're thinking about it... don't think about it, sh you're too pretty to think about it. let me think about it, i'm smarter and prettier"

dinner isn't anything too special either. takeout pizza on a rooftop in gotham somewhere. it could be romantic though, and it would be to someone desperately in love with him like you

listening to him talk about light pollution, asking if you want to hear some riddles about constellations, pointing out the various places he's hid from his enemies

it's not traditional by any means, but it is oddly romantic. dinner, music, time alone under the dulled stars. maybe that was his plan all along

gotham

oh we are going WHOLE HOG here for valentine's day!! you know he's an old romantic, a sweet and gentle soul

so don't think for a moment that you'll be seeing any other people that day, your attention will be solely focused on each other

he's sent, uh... someone has sent in some miscellaneous threat to your workplace, so luckily for you(!) you're not required to go in! SO SURPRISE!! he's here to make you breakfast

and then a brief walk down some of the quieter streets, where he might be brave enough to ask if he can hold your hand

once you're at his apartment, you're in for some respectable but tension filled cuddles on his sofa while you watch some classic romance movies

and then he's making a beautiful three course meal for you both! pressed tablecloth on his little dining table, roses in a conical flask, candles in test tubes (is he stealing these from work?)

he'll feed you little bits of food, wiping your face with a napkin, staring into your eyes dreamily

and then the night will end with a perfect and very polite kiss that you'll wish wouldn't end

telltale

he knows how to do romance, he's been around long enough. it's more a question of whether he can be bothered to celebrate

but he'll pull himself together and act the perfect gentleman for you, regardless of how tired he is after a day of committing violent/cyber crime and being oddly agile for a man in receipt of a state pension

(a fact which will come in handy at the end of the evening...)

he'll start off the evening with the traditional gifts. a box of expensive chocolates or candy, perfectly suited to your dietary requirements of course. and a bouquet of flowers. not roses, but your favourites. he knows they'll make you happier

he's not one for being out in public, what with the whole "is he dead" thing, so you'll be dining in BUT to make it special, he has hired a discreet personal chef to provide the food for the evening

slow, quiet jazz playing in the background, just you, him, and the waiters he has hired and has threatened under extreme violence to keep their mouths shut about this particular shift

could it get any more romantic??

arkham

bless his heart but this eddie is forgetting that it's valentine's day until you're handing him a card, grasping it between his dirty fingers, smudging the soft pink colour with grimy fingerprints

then, you'll endure a fifteen minute long lecture about why you should have at least had the sense to warn him in advance, or to remind him, since you know how he can be

and when he's done, he'll be pushing you out of the room, getting rid of you so he can "finish his important work" and only then can you consider "doing something for this silly holiday"

really, he's just looking for an excuse to get you away so he can work on your very last minute present without you seeing

which of course, he'll present to you as though he had been pretending to forget all along

"i made you this, it's a symbol of our relationship"

it's the remnants of a neon question mark bent into place to resemble a heart. and there's hot glue still drying on it. and a screw stuck to it

but it's the thought that counts, and the thought is there! after all he loves you enough to have lied and put aside his important welding or whatever to haphazardly craft the lie

dano

for him, valentine's day is about showing your love for someone. because you can love them every day, but this is an excuse to make a display out of it

so expect a myriad of gifts, food, perfumes, vouchers, jewellery, stuffed animals, flowers, a handmade valentine's card

enough that it makes you guilty (and enough that you wonder if he really has just been saving all his salary instead of spending it on... furniture or therapy)

then, the personalised activities! most of which involve you doing his quiz all about you and your relationship with him, solving several riddles that lead you to a hidden compartment in the wall of his bedroom (weird.) where he's stuffed his poems to you (sweet!) which he will then recite to you, stuttering over the words and blushing the whole time

but it's not enough for him, he wants to shout it from the rooftops, show the world how much he loves you and appreciates you

he's had all this love bottled up for so long with no one deserving to give it to! let's just hope it comes out in a healthy way...

btaa

he's swooping in to your apartment very late at night

"it's only 11pm, it's still valentine's day mi amorrrrr"

look, he's very sorry that he wasn't able to spend the day with you, and that he's incredibly late to the dinner you had planned

but he's a busy little criminal, he has so many things to do AND he had to do it all by himself because he gave miss tuesday the day off so she could go on a date of her own and-

oh see! you've changed your mind now, no longer grumpy, because he was actually doing something kind for someone else

he really is a generous soul, emphasised by the fact that the reason he was late was because he was pulling off a perfect heist in a jewellery store uptown

so... did you save any leftovers for him? or is he going to have to return this beautiful ring/watch/necklace he bought you?

twojar

he's a curveball, like seriously give you whiplash kind of valentine's date

you think it's going to be a very standard evening, after all there you both are in black tie best, sipping expensive champagne, him talking about himself while you try hard not to stare at his tits

but when the meal is finished, he goes to pay in secret and then rushes you out into a car with tinted windows, and it's lucky he can get you so hot and flushed and eager that quickly, since it's not long before you arrive at the next spot

a strip club

which is? i mean not a traditional valentine's day date location, but it could be very hot

and he's booked one of the private rooms for you both, so at least you won't have to hide your blushing cheeks from the rest of the guests

but it becomes very obvious that there isn't a dancer coming to entertain you, and you worry that he expects you to get up there and put on a show, which would be a disaster because you haven't planned anything and-

"happy valentine's day"

ah. of course. why would the world's most self-absorbed man think you would want anything else for valentine's day than a private strip tease from him

and he's annoyingly very right in that assumption

btas

he absolutely does the most! and the most is often cheesy and dorky and therefor a million times more precious

the kind of guy who would buy you a rose for every day he's known you, regardless of how many days he has known you

the kind of guy who gets those little personalised lego figures made of you and him, or gets a plushie of him to give to you so he'll always be near you (and you know he's putting the personalised message in if he gets it from build a bear)

he knows your favourite starter, main and dessert are all from different restaurants, so he's made the reservations at all three with plenty of time for romantic rides in the back of cabs between each stop

it's important he has plenty of time to cover your neck with kisses, and for you to tell him how adorable he is

and then, because he is the cheesiest but in the best way, it's more than likely he'd use valentine's day as an excuse to propose to you, so he's down on one knee under the cloudy gotham night sky to ask you to marry him (and you're obviously not going to say no)

zero year

he doesn't do valentine's day, what a waste of time! he's nice enough to you the rest of the year, why should there be one day where he has to do something extra fo-

oh? oh! oh ok, if it means you have to do something for him too, then he's down for it

yes... that sounds like a wonderful excuse to get up to some mischief... (it's concerning how evil his little face looks when he's supposedly considering activities for the most romantic of holidays...)

although, why bother going out somewhere on a date, it's such a waste of time and effort

he has to keep his energy for more important things, and speaking of... he can think of very few ways to spend an evening that are better than taking you into the bedroom and sharing an exchange of giving for a few solid hours

no need to wear something nice, it's only going to get stripped off

no need to get him a gift, you'll be giving him plenty

and no need to eat something, he'll make sure you don't leave hungry, trust him

[haikyu-mp4]

I’d say it’s destiny

word count; 1605 – f!reader, implied age gap

Osamu and Atsumu weren’t completely identical, as some might know. Most notably, they decided to dye their hair differently in high school and it made the contrast of their eye colours stand out more.

However, one scenario it always worked for was substitute teachers. Osamu really didn’t mind stepping in for Atsumu today, because it meant he owed him later, but he totally forgot he was stepping in at all when he saw you.

Fresh out of university and first-time substitute teacher.

And you were crazy good-looking.

So when you were taking attendance and asked for Miya Atsumu, it went something like this…

“Here!”

“Hello, Miya,” you said, just like you did with all the other students because some teacher you once had said it made the pupils feel seen. Perhaps they weren’t considering high school students though.

“Call me Osamu,” he said with that trademark smirk he borrowed from his twin as if he was acting his part despite saying the complete opposite.

“…Atsumu?” you read off the paper, with no intention of using his given name but still curious about the name change. Suna already had his phone out in his lap, camera peeping just over the edge of his desk to film this.

“No, that’s my stupid brother.”

“So why are you… here then?”

Osamu slowly deflated, not looking as confident as he did a few seconds ago. Right, he’s not actually in this class. “I’d say it’s destiny?”

You blinked for a moment. This was not what you expected on your first day, and you weren’t quite sure what to do. Do you send him to the principal’s office? At least he’s getting an extra lesson, his apparent twin is the one who missed his. “Come to my desk after class, Miya,” you said strictly before moving on to the rest of the list, not missing the way some brunette kid snorted in the corner as Osamu agreed like you asked him out for dinner.

“You wanted to see me?” Osamu said, a cocky smirk back on his face and bag slung over his shoulder. You frowned, trying your best not to find it funny.

“Not like that, but you know it’s not okay to attend in someone else’s place?” you started, still not decided on how to lecture him properly. Fortunately, you had the number of another teacher that gave you some help.

He sat down on the chair on the other side of your desk. “I’m sorry my brother gave you trouble. What did you say your name was?” he asked, earning another squinted glare from you.

You ignored the comment and question, sighing and looking at the post-it note stuck to your schedule, scribbled with a name. “I was told I should talk to Kita Shinsuke about this, so unless you have something better to say, I think we should move along to find him and your brother.”

Osamu felt like the colour might have drained from his face, thinking of facing both his idiot brother’s complaints and Kita’s cold lecture at the same time. “Oh, uhh…”

You gave him a small smile, standing up already. “They should all be in the gym, right? Please show me the way there, I still get lost.”

Osamu would be damned if you kept smiling at him like that, making him stand right up with a sigh and hold the door open for you before leading you there. “Right this way, my lady.” At least he got to ask you about your favourite foods and other basic stuff that you didn’t mind answering on the way there.

Once again, he opened the door for you when you got to the gym, eyes quickly scanning around to see Suna already showing Atsumu the video. “Kita Shinsuke?” you asked loudly, looking around until you made eye contact with someone who seemed to respond to that name. The grey-haired boy came over, calmly asking you how he could help you while Osamu avoided eye contact but still didn’t want to leave your side. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, but another teacher told me you’re familiar with the problem. I had this Miya in my class while it should have been the other one,” you informed him, almost letting their given names slip off your tongue. Osamu was tuned into your voice, but it was difficult to ignore the agitating voice of his brother, which he heard in the background.

Kita nodded with a confirming sound, dark in his throat as he glared to the side at Osamu. “My apologies, I will make sure they receive the proper consequences,” he said and bowed to you.

Osamu looked at you with a sheepish smile. “Thank you for following me here, I’ll see you around?” he asked, using his possibly last moment alive to look at you one more time with every ounce of charm he had left.

You huffed a small laugh, nodding and turning around to find your way back. “Sure, have fun at practice, Miya.”

Kita and Atsumu were both angry, but who cares?

Osamu Miya was in love.

You saw Osamu around a couple more times while substituting for other teachers, even stepping in for the volleyball coach once. Now that, was something.

“What’d ya think, coach?” Osamu asked you, quite frankly looking like a puppy after spiking and turning to you. You sighed, once again trying to act indifferent and ignore him while also treating him like any other student.

“That was great!” you said with some enthusiasm, also leaning a bit to the side to look at his twin. “And a great set as well!” So now you had two flustered Miya twins.

“Let’s try the soul swap, ‘Samu!” Atsumu roared with newfound vigour, and you could see Kita about to protest.

“Here we go, I should film this,” Suna snickered from somewhere beside you, and you couldn’t help but agree.

After a year, you were offered a permanent position at another school in the prefecture, meaning you didn’t really see any students from Inarizaki again. You had almost forgotten them by the time you walked past a sign that said Onigiri Miya after going to an interview for a higher position in another school.

You tilted your head, squinting at the sign as you tried to remember where you heard that before, and then you looked down and through the window. Jaw slack, you were looking at a much more grown version of your biggest fan, Miya Osamu.

Walking in, you were overwhelmed with the delicious smell, your chest filling with air as you took in a long breath. Then you walked over to the short line, standing behind a rather burly man, meaning Osamu probably hadn’t seen you yet. You got a bit nervous, almost wondering if he would actually remember you or not.

Finally, the line moved along and you were face to face with a mouth-watering man. Mouth-watering food! He was even taller than in high school, shoulders broader and body a bit beefier from choosing this line of work but probably still maintaining some workouts.

You had to shake your head a bit when you realised you were just staring, plastering on a smile and then realising he was staring too, looking pleasantly surprised. Perhaps it was inappropriate to suddenly be interested in him, but while an awkward age difference stopped you from looking at him like this before, he was now an adult and you suddenly saw him in a new light.

“Hi!” he said cheerfully before huffing when he accidentally knocked over a cup of pens, scrambling to pick them all up again and shuffle them back into the cup. He glanced up at you with that familiar sheepish smile. “What can I get you today, teach?” he asked, applying the nickname to further emphasise that he remembered you.

You could feel your ears turning red as you pursed your lips, and you were about as beautiful as he remembered. “I’d like two tuna mayo onigiris, please,” you requested, pulling your card out to pay while he was watching your every move. He was glad he already had a lot of food prepared at this time of day so he wouldn’t have to leave this station to make them for you.

“I thought you liked salmon, want to try one on the house?” he asked, somehow remembering your conversations back in high school. You were shocked for a moment before nodding.

“If you insist.”

He smirked, and it was so familiar yet the feeling it gave you was so new and exciting. “I sure do,” he confirmed and then put one on a plate to hand it over. No one had come in after you yet, luckily. “I haven’t seen ya in a long time, do ya live close by?” he asked hopefully, trying to sound nonchalant.

“I’m out on a job interview actually,” you said, taking a bite of the onigiri and sighing with appreciation at how delicious it was. Truly made with love. “So who knows, maybe I’ll be around here more.”

“Then you’re more than welcome to stop by again.”

You smiled at him, and it was warmer than the ones he had received from you before. “I’d love that. It’s a bit far from where I live, though.” Your voice drifted off, unsure if you were oversharing because you were nervous.

“Oh? How did ya end up applying for a job here, then?” he asked, moving around to grab some fresh onigiri in a box for you and taking an extra breath to calm his heartbeat.

“I’d say it’s destiny.”

masterlist

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[9:13 pm] 

(cw: jaehyun drinks a beer)

Anyone looking looking at Jaehyun right now could tell he was angry. Heck, anyone with eyes would be able to simply glance at him and tell that they should steer clear of him. His jaw was clenched, his dentist probably wouldn’t be happy about the strain he was putting on his jaw, and his eyes were locked on you. You and the man who had been talking and laughing a little too much. Too much smiling, too much laughing, keeping you from Jaehyun for too long. You were only supposed to go to the bathroom then get a drink but now you’d been gone for over 10 minutes, most of that time spent with the bartender.

Jaehyun would argue he wasn’t a jealous person. He didn’t mind that you went out, other guys talked to you, that you had guy friends, because you always came back to him. You always reassured him, easing his hidden insecurities, that he was the only guy for you. But it was different now watching you laugh and look like you had no intention of leaving the bar anytime soon. You peeked a look back at Jaehyun, quickly turning and laughing along with the bartender.

The waiter came back by the table asking if everything this was still fine. Jaehyun replied coldly, eyes still locked on you that everything was fine. He tried to pull his eyes away from you, stabbing the food entirely too dramatically to distract himself from the view of you flirting a few feet away from him.

You finally said bye to the bartender, Jaehyun could tell because you wiggled your fingers flirtily before being called back by the bartender to collect a napkin that he had quickly scribbled on. His number no doubt. Jaehyun scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Here’s your beer,” you smiled, placing the bottle in front of Jaehyun as you plopped into your seat.

“I didn’t realize the bar was so busy,” Jaehyun replied nonchalantly.

“Oh, it wasn’t. The bartender was so funny and we got sidetracked,” you smile as you cut into your food. Jaehyun sends you a look asking you to elaborate, so you do. “Well, he was telling me that he really liked my shirt and that his roommate would like the shirt since their birthday is coming up so I told him about some stores that have some similar clothes. Then he started telling me some funny stories-”

“Yeah, he looked hilarious.”

“He was! He seemed really cool,” you hum before taking a bite of your food.

Jaehyun felt the annoyance and anger ease a little bit, you had come back to him but you were gushing over another guy to your boyfriend. How did that make any sense to you? Were you withholding information on purpose? Did you like the bartender that much that you had to hide it from Jaehyun? What did the bartender have that Jaehyun didn’t?

“So what, you like him now? He gave you his number didn’t he?” Jaehyun decides to bite the bullet and ask.

You reply calmly, “Well he very clearly told me he thinks that he and I could be good friends so the number was for friendship only because,” you try to fight back a smile, “he wanted to know if my friend at the table was single.”

Jaehyun chokes on his sip of beer, hitting his chest as he coughs to clear his airway. He still manages to choke out a “What?”

“He spent most of the time gushing over my friend and his silky looking hair and his cute dimples and his hot outfit. He asked me to pass along his number in case you might be interested,” you explained.

Jaehyun was bright red now, embarrassed from having made the assumption of you flirting with another guy, red from his lack of air, red from the indirect flirting.

“So?” You question, lightly kicking his foot.

“Why would I take another person’s number? I’m your boyfriend!” Jaehyun whisper yells.

You shrug, “I don’t know, he seems really cool and he gets off soon if you want to go and chat with him.”

“Stop trying to set me up with other people while we’re on a date! We’ve been together for three years!”

“Well you seem to think I go out to restaurants and try to pick people up on dates anyway, not sure if you’d be interested in that. Like maybe you were projecting,” you continue too casually.

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, “you were looking back at me and laughing, then he scribbled something on a napkin and gave it to you. What was I supposed to think?”

“That I was making friends. I’m a cool person, people want to be friends with me, I make friends everywhere I go,” you reply.

“Of course I believe that, you’re a very cool person. I just get in my head sometimes,” Jaehyun replies quietly.

“Oh my love, I know, you get too lost in that big head too often,” you coo, reaching for his hand across the table.

“Uncalled for.” Jaehyun deadpans.

“So are you going to call him? I think you’re like way his type,” you ask teasingly.

“I’m not paying for dinner anymore and you’re sleeping on the couch,” Jaehyun tells you.

You laugh, shaking your head and narrowing your eyes at Jaehyun, “You couldn’t last an hour in bed without me.” And Jaehyun would hate to admit that you’re right.

[threepandas]

Bad End: After The War (Next ->)

The click of a button in a mostly quiet room. Machines humming as they churn an endless stream of data. Listening. Receiving. Filtering through the noise, for those bits of intelligence that might win us the war. The outpost was quite. As much as it could be, at least, on this god forsaken moon.

"Perimeter Check?"

More specifically, 'did you get your ass eaten by those horrifying eel-snakes? Because you promised not too, and I WILL be mad.' 'Cept, you know, these channels are technically recorded. Rather not have my snark On Record, thanks. So SUBTEXT.

The familiar, oh so melodious, demonic death screeching of abomination eels and blaster fire comes on comm. A symphony straight out of some sci-fi horror movie, act 3. The part where everybody's getting eaten. Except NOT, because this? This is just my life.

Though the eaten part is still a Very Real Risk.

Which Is FUN.

I wait. Hope I just caught Headshot at just a bad time. Not, you know, in his final moments. Ha ha... Nope! Not! Thinking 'bout that! He's immortal, I'm immortal, and we both live in a happy fun time fairy land of FUCKING WONDERS. Denial? Fuck yeah I know her! Best friend, that one. Gonna be my future kids godparent. Walk me down the aisle. We BESTIES.

There is finally, at long last, ominous silence. Dead or dying? Dead or dying? Which side, eels or Headshot, is Dead or-?

Click.

"Perimeter looks good. Bit of a mess near the east gate, though. We'll need to get the droids to shove some mess over the ledge. They tried to climb again."

Oh thank FUCK. Tension bleeds out of me. This post is hell on my anxiety. I send back the confirm. Slump back on my seat as I keep an eye on his tracker's dot, on the patrol read out. I fucking HATE perimeter checks. They aren't safe. But... well...

This universe? I'm pretty sure, it's an "all the serial numbers filed off" blatant rip off of Star Wars. Might be a fan fiction? Cause, while the troupes are familiar, the "characters", no one is where or WHO they should be. There are also other "totally not X" bits here and there, all of which confuses the fuck out me.

But what I DO know? Is that making a fuss about the safety and well-being of us peons? During this, the "totally not the Clone Wars"? While Evil Dick, Sith-y Pants the Obvious is in charge? GREAT way for our entire outpost to get "tragic casualties of war"-'d. So yeah, no thanks.

Keeping my mouth shut.

And, hey! At least they ate our complete asshole of a commander. Technically we SHOULD be getting a new one... but we were told to make do. Same with all the OTHER critical roles currently empty.

The DICK.

Like? I know he wants to drag out the war and maximize suffering for Evil Not-Sith, Off Brand Space Wizards Of EVIL Powers? But like? Fffffuck yoooou, dude. What the hell. Hope he stubs EVERY toe, always.

The Clones deserve better then this. The SECOND the war is over? I'm stealing Headshot. Fuck this "property of the state" bullshit. Just me 'n him, man. We could go explore the wilds. Or get him a beard and fake glasses. Clone? What clone! This is my BROTHER, Headshot. Our parents were gun-toting hippies. My names Moonrock. Fuck off, maybe. Keep walking.

The second I see him cross the base threshold, I switch over to Droid command. They can't hold my shift forever, but for a bit? Should be fine.

Jogging down the hall and sliding down a few ladders, I finally catch sight of Headshot as he leaves the staging area. Oof. That is a LOT of eel blood. The cleaning bots are cursing up a storm as they follow him. Even from the other end of the hallway... he smells... ripe.

I give him a second to lead the way and for the bots to work behind him. Then join in the little parade. Ah, eel goo. The third worst thing that could come out of going outside. Right behind losing a limb or dying. But hey! I restocked the soaps for ya!

"Doesn't change that it's on my everywhere, Commander."

Oooooh~ breaking out the COMMANDER are we? Is that SASS I hear? Snark perhaps? Why HEADSHOT! Such insubordination~! What EVER shall I do?

He snorts and suggest something anatomically impossible as he gestures to the shower rooms door. I tap it open for him. Goo boy that he is. Grinning I follow and find a bench where I can sit so my back is to him. It... used to be weird, to be honest, this level of living in each others pockets. But time and isolation has eroded a lot.

Clones don't really see boundaries like everyone else. Don't have the same taboos or unspoken social rules. After all... they're all the same gender. Were forced to live basicly in a breadbox with each other. The culture that developed reflects that. And I? Am more of a follower then a "type A". Not passive by any stretch of the imagination, just... eh.

I don't have the social outgoing-ness? I guess? To drag the culture of our base towards MY social norms as opposed towards his. It made him comfortable. I shrugged and went okay. Rinse and repeat. To be honest I was just glad he trusted me enough to SHARE.

Booting up my definitely-not-a-tablet, (which is of course, STUFFED full of various bits of sci-fi technology that only half makes sense) I once again try and connect to the wider army's mainframe. Nothing. I've BEEN trying for weeks now. But for some reason? We're cut off.

No new commands. No new forms to fill. No demands for information.

No UPDATES on what the FUCK is HAPPENING out there.

I'm... not gonna lie, getting nervous. We're a listening outpost. Some of our information is time sensitive. And our SUPPLIES are not infinite. Forget food, if we run out of AMMO? Those nightmare snake-eel THINGS will... Look, long and short of it? I've got an "empty" blaster shoved under my bunk. Two shots left. And compared to the slow, SLOW digestion and meat threshing teeth those horrors have?

At least it's FAST.

But I would REALLY prefer we NOT fucking come to that, you know? That someone would fucking PICK UP. Or? I don't know!? Notice we're offline? Whatever the problem is! The fact that we've gone dark is SPOOKING the fuck out of me.

Not to mention? That even BEFORE communication went down? The chat rooms and update boards weren't making a whole lot of sense. Lot of clone specific references that I didn't get. Memes, maybe? I don't KNOW and that's the part that's killing me. I had no way to CHECK. It all just... went dark.

We're still GETTING data. But? We can't seem to SEND it. Headshot and I checked. I checked the droids while he got the dish and other external devices. Clambering around the roof with his sniper rifle like a well armed, circus trained, mechanic. Nothing was wrong with the droids. And according to Headshot? Nothing was wrong with the dish.

After a while I gave up. Again.

Reminded myself to practice my meditative breathing. In... out... IN... OUT... do NOT trough your only Data Tablet. You'll break it. You can't REPLACE it. It might FEEL satisfying in the moment... but it's Not Worth It. Just listen to the sound of the running water. The quite of the room. Breathe... unclench your jaw, make your muscles relax, c'mon you can do this.

Fuck, I needed my anti-anxiety meds. But we were starting to ween me off them so I didn't go cold turkey when we ran out. It was fucking with my head. But, hey! At least I wouldn't run the risk of seizures! Or any suicidal ideation! No, just slowly building anxiety, in this, History's Most Stressful Outpost.

The shower shut off behind me. Leaning forward to grab a towel from the stack, I tossed it blindly over my shoulder. Heard him catch it. Wet feet slapping quietly against tiles as he walked forward, drying himself. From the feel of droplets and heat, looming just behind me? He was leaning over my shoulder. The man always did like to damn near boil himself in the shower.

"Still nothing? We've run out of D6 bolts. Not to mention your meds..." He commented, still drying off. I could feel the occasional brush of a towel. A bare arm reached over my shoulder to tap at the screen. "Have you tried...? Shit."

He tried several commands. Leaning over me, damn near cradling the back of my head against his bare chest. But nothing worked. Plopping his chin down on the top of my head, he casually wrapped his arm around my shoulders, leaning his weight on me as he considered the problem. The fans kicked in overhead, dehumidifing and hopefully preventing any sort of alien molds.

I told him to go put on some fuckin pants, before he frozen something he might miss off.

With an amused snort he stood and wandered over to the armor cleaner. Grabbing a new undersuit. Blacks went on, armor freshly de-goo-d, he called that he was presentable once more. I swung my legs over the bench. No need to stand, after all, if we're not leaving yet. Besides, exhaustion was a symptom of the withdrawals. Med changes are a BITCH.

Just as I was about to suggest anough brainstorming session, though?

Our comms both ping. LOUDLY.

That's the emergency signal from the control room. SHIT. I'm up and running before the sound even fades. Headshot right behind me. Not so much because he can't out run me, as he'd stop to grab his weapons as was bringing up the rear. Guarding my back. I prayed, PRAYED, this wasn't an attack. We were supposed to be a fourteen person team.

There were TWO OF US.

We'd never be able to hold the line. Would DIE here. Fuck, I didn't even have time to get that gun! I should have been carrying it. It had been too morbid. But... but...!

I slam into the control room. Headshot a half step behind. The droids frantically churning away. Okay. Okay! What's happening? A ship, big one, in orbit. Oooooh fuck. How Big? I ask. Am informed? "Wipe us from the face of the galaxy" Big. Ha ha! FUCKING FANTASTIC. Great! Merry fucking Christmas to me, I guess! Okay. Okay!

Let's DO this.

Get on the short range ship comm, (never thought I'd USE it but here we fucking ARE) and ask, politely, for them to Fucking Identify Themselves. (Because we have Big Guns and are NOT afraid to use um!)

There is a long tense moment. Then? Oh thank merciful FUCK. A Clone's voice comes on the line. General Spark of the 153rd, in pursuit, they're here to catch traitors and resupply if we need anything. Permission to land a few ships?

I. Could. WEEP.

Yes! Oh, ABSOLUTELY yes! Whoever they're chasing picked a REALLY stupid planet to hide out on, not gonna lie. They'll be picking their traitors up in PIECES. But? Never has a voice been more beautiful. Send Techs! You have FULL use of the outpost General! Welcome!

Setting the droids to navigating the incoming ships safely through landing, I all but DRAG Headshot towards the landing pad. People! Actual, real, PEOPLE! Supplies! Oh thank FUCK! We might be able to figure out what wrong with our relays! Get NEWS! And? That was a CLONE GENERAL!!!

That NEVER happens!

I can practically feel my self vibrating with excitement. Bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet, as the ships come in for a landing. The officers that roll out are all clones. Their armor more personalized then I've ever seen it. It's BEAUTIFUL. I can't help but lean over and whisper to Headshot, saying as much. Wondering if we can get him some of the supplies they must of used.

You know, assuming he WANTS any of um.

If not? Dibs.

His shoulders are shaking. Why are-? One of the officers thanks me for the compliment. Headshot you SON OF A SUBSTANDARD VAT. Was your SHORT RANGE MIC ON!? Why would you not-!? Bastard! Dead to me! Sorry general, I've never met this man before in my LIFE. Couldn't introduce if I TRIED.

Still! High ranking clones? We love to see it. I am THRILLED. It's been long over due.

Dooooesn't mean we should hang out in Eel Country though. Everybody INSIDE! Let's goooo. Nice and safe, where no ones getting eaten, m'kay? Thank you! And yes! I DO have a list of resupply needs! A LONG list. Starting with my meds, followed by ammo. Though honestly they're tied at first...

As me and the, now rather concerned, medic chat about the collapsing state of our highly rationed medical supplies? Headshot and the General are off to the side... talking about... something. Not sure. Probably not important, or he'd include me. I show the medic our "infirmary" and medical charts. Then get pulled away by the mechanic.

I barely get to SEE Headshot over the next two days. Forget sitting down. The only breaks I get? Meals and lights out. It's kinda awesome. Exhausting, yes, but? After so long isolated? It's a good type of exhausted. The sort where you feel like? For ONCE? You're actually being productive.

There are SO MANY eel burrows to scan? Potential landing sites? And all the MAINTENANCE? Dear merciful FUCK. Literally everything is out of date and cheap as BALLS. Held together with shoe strings and a prayer. But finally! FINALLY! Someone in budgeting GIVES A SHIT!!! Better equipment! Actual medical supplies! Real bedding! And best of ALL?

AIs! As in Actual, information sorting, artificial intelligences!

Because there literally hasn't been a REASON for humanoids to do this job for CENTURIES aside from a misplaced sense of superiority and distrust of droids! All WE need to do? Is stay on base and make sure THEY don't go rogue or break down from the extended isolation! Woooo desk job!

I'm gonna name um. They shall be my BABIES.

That said? None of this? Is very... Off Brand Sith-y. Little too "cares about their fellow man"-ish, you know? And... I'm not stupid. Excited as FUCK, for all the supplies and new changes... but not? Stupid. Blind.

They're keeping me away from the control room.

Keeping me out of important discussions. Sending me off on errands. All of which? SEEM important. ARE important, on the surface, but hide the fact that they are intentionally scheduled? Just as Certain Things Are Discussed. I am being... handled. Like a child. A fool.

When I confront Headshot? In our bunkroom, which we've shared for YEARS at this point. Slept just across from each other, so this lonely hell might feel just a little less empty? So when the dark thoughts creep in? That we might die in this God forsaken place, forgotten by the universe, left to ROT here, and wouldn't it just be easier to-? Someone there, so we won't. So we still matter.

He stands across from me. In OUR place. OUR room.

And FUCKING LIES.

......I guess I know where I stand, huh? And I know... I KNOW, I shouldn't feel betrayed. Clones come first, always. That's the party line. How they survived. I'm a Nat. There was always a power imbalance between us. I would always have been held just that bit further away then one of the brothers. Guess... guess it just finally happened.

I shouldn't feel betrayed. I have no RIGHT to feel betrayed.

But I do.

Headshot looks alarmed, hands twitching at his side, even as he tries to maintain his facade. Nothing's happing. They aren't doing anything. Right. Uh huh. His lie sits between us like a field of broken glass. The words, the arguments, I'd been looking for now seeming so useless. What's the point? He's made his decision.

I feel like crying. Don't want to talk anymore.

Good NIGHT, Headshot.

In the morning, I don't bother asking. I know he notices. Is waiting, restless, for us to continue on as we always have. We always check schedules after all. But what's the point? He'll lie. Instead I pull my armor on and go. Go to your brothers, Headshot. Whatever's happening here, I'm clearly not trusted enough to be part of it.

I just get out of your way.

There's a lot of busy work on my schedule, but honestly? The new AIs are learning to handle it. Instead, I head down to the new supply crates. Grab some bedding. A cart. Then head back. Pack up my shit. I just... can't.

Moving it all to a different bunk, I still have most of the day left to go. Could...? Probably? Check out if we actually DO have space rats? The droids have been reporting dust and noise in the basement, near the food stores. So likely vermin of some kind. Gonna be horrifying to find out what kind of vermin exsist HERE, but better then nothing, I guess.

Grabbing one of the better ration bars to shove in my face on the way to the gun locker, I count it a breakfast. Everyone's busy with a clone only meeting. Good for them, I guess. Not upset with General Spark or his men, I realize, as I check over the gun, no... just Headshot. Because he hurt me.

All he had to say was "I can't tell you." Or "trust me" and I WOULD have. But no. He LIED. To my FACE. And now? Now I feel like I'm waking around with shards of glass where my heart should be. Like I want to hit something. I need a distraction. So down to long term storage I go.

Normally? It's only droids down here. I have to ride a cramped little maintenance elevator lined with blast doors. You know, incase Satan's favorite pet somehow burrows in. The fuckers. It's also freezing. Which, I mean? Great for food storage, not so much for thermal regulation.

The level is eerie quiet.

Which.... huh. That's? Not right.

I reach for my comm before pausing. The hurt in my chest throbbing. I know I shouldn't let it get in the way of professionalism. Of protocol. The rules are there for a reason. To keep us alive and safe. But... God, I don't want to hear his fucking voice right now. I might cry. Say something I don't mean and regret later. You don't LAST long, isolated out in Hellpit, Nowhere, without doing a little soul searching.

Mortifying ordeal of being known and all that.

My hand drops. It's fine. I'm FINE. There's nothing down here. Or, well, should be nothing down here. We'll find out.

Slowly moving forward, I begin to check the stacks. I don't see any of the droids. Don't HEAR any of them. There should be at least thirty down here. But all I hear? Is the circulation fans. The sound of my foot steps. Something isn't right.

It's a loose, half melted screw in the path that saves me. At first I think it's a bug. But the quite clink when my foot nudges it is unmistakable. It makes me look sideways. There, a cleaning droid, cut down from behind. Tiny little mechanical claws still reaching out to claw itself to safety. Wheels shredded. The marks of a lazer blade are unmistakable.

The hiss-hum even more so.

I BARELY dodge.

Half my gun, simply sheared away. Molten slag dripping from the cut point, the battery already violently destabilizing ask it's nicked. I throw it, before I have the chance to lose a limb. The blast takes out a crate. I'm thrown. Barely roll in time to dodge the downward stab of the hissing blade. A brutal, magic-enhanced, kick sends me flying.

Straight through a stack of ration crates, into a wall mounted medical case. I land among the corpses of the droids. Each, a picture of terror and betrayal. I don't understand what's happening. The blades not red or black! It's blue! That's a not-jedi! Right?! Why are they!? Crates are lifted into the air. Threatening to smash down and bury me alive.

Can't move. Something twisted, badly, in my leg. My chest burning. Something cracked, I could feel it. I'm gonna die. Oh good, I'm gonna DIE.

"Wait! She's not a clone!"

I stare up into the face of the so called "good guys" and feel nothing but terror. Around me, the pieces of thirty droids I'd named and known, dead and dumped like trash upon the ground. Flower with his fussy need to have everything just so, Chirp who loved to sing, Mouse with the wheel I could never get to stop squeeking.

Nothing but Cannon fodder.

They died so afraid.

"Oh! You're right! Sorry! I thought you were one of those 'peating bastards. Are you okay? How long have they held you?" The Knight said. His Apprentice nodding eagerly.

My brain was static. Empty. Held? Slurs? W-what in God's name? I stayed down. Feeling small, lost, and confused. Pain rocking my body from being thrown around. The Apprentice, at least, seemed to pick up on the fact that I had no idea what the fuck they were on about.

"Ah. You don't know what's happened." She said sympathetically. It would be nicer, if she hadn't stood back while I was hurt, before they got around to asking who's side I was on. "The Clones betrayed the Republic. Took it over by force. They've made an empire. They killed the old Chancellor, who was Fallen, but then instead of handing the Republic back to the people? Kept it! Said we couldn't be trusted with it."

The last part was said mockingly. As though everyone and their brother hadn't been aware the Republic was on the brink of collapse. Corruption at an all time high. As though that same Republic hadn't been using the Clones as a SLAVE ARMY.

Slaves do tend to take exception to their chains, historically.

I wasn't really sure why the fuck they were surprised.

"Now come on, you can join the Rebellion. You must know all sort of information, from sitting out here, right? You can-!"

Click.

My helmet went full dark and internal audio only. Which was interesting because I still could barely move. But then bright light and sound, popped and cracked not to far away from my head. A flash grenade. And I finally, FINALLY? Remembered that all standardized armor? Comes with in built life support feeds.

Headshot's mystery meeting was in the command room... where my life sign readout would be. The life support feedback. Real time monitoring from me getting my ass kicked and WHERE.

A hand grabs the drag handle built into each armor, for EXACTLY this reason, and I feel my self pulled out of the danger zone. Can hear heavy, open fire. Shit. There goes our supplies. My helmet clears and I recognize the shoulder I've been careful thrown over. Headshot. He came.

He falls back at some signal I can't see. Straight to the elevator.

The shoulder under me is shaking, just slightly. Adrenaline, fear, anger. I can't tell. But... I... I'm...

"Don't." His voice is rough. Choked out through gritted teeth. His grip just carefully loose enough not to bruise. It seems to be taking everything he has. "You don't get to die. Do you understand me? You're not ALLOWED to die. Not now. Not ever. We didn't survive this long for you to leave me now."

He barely waits long enough for the door to open. Stride smooth and desperate as he races us towards the medic. I rest my head against his shoulder and breathe. Let myself be manhandled. Ha ha... a-at least? I know what he's keeping from me now. So there's that. Ow. Oh god.

The medic has to put me under. Bone fragments.

I drift.

Wake up, bandaged to hell and back, in ou-... in Headshot's bunkroom. Across from the empty bunk that used to be mine. Bed's softer then it should be, still smelling like Headshot. We haven't had the new sheets long enough. Knowing him, he probably stacked um.

The door opens. Headshot stalks in, dragging a cart behind him. His usual "pleasantly amused by life" expression nowhere to be seen. Instead? His expression is... blank. A determined, almost violent, edge to the set of his shoulders.

In silence, I watch as he unloads the cart. Bedding, knickknacks, the various bit of cobbled together wall art. All carefully stuck right back where it had been before. As though he had memorized the proper location of each and every piece. Even as he worked, with his back to me, every line of his body was daring me to be dumb enough to argue.

I didn't want too. I was just... just fucking tired.

Didn't like that we were arguing. If that was even what we were doing.

"Why?" I asked. Summing up everything and distilling it. Why didn't you just fucking TELL me? Why didn't you TRUST me? Why did you think I'd turn on you? Why would you lie? Why were we cut off? Was it REALLY a technical error? Why take the Republic? Why ANY of this?

Just... WHY, Headshot? Please...

"I refuse to lose you. When the war ended, you were going to leave. You said you'd take me with you... but honestly? That was naive. There would be no where safe we could ever go. We all knew that. We all had favorites." He finally stopped organizing my bed. Instead, smoothing down the sheet. Running both hands across it as he stared down, unseeing. "It was all so unorganized. Filthy. They treated us like DIRT. But we were... we ARE better. Designed to be superior. Stronger, smarter, faster. More durable. Why were we listening to them?"

"Then we found out why. Control chips in the brain. The nervous system. Carefully hidden, yes. But not carefully enough. You weren't authorized, you know. I'm glad. If you had been? I'd never have forgiven you. You'd never know you were dead before you died. But... I promise."

"I would have made it fast." His smile was a terrible thing. All broken edges and betrayal. Teeth upon teeth. A mania finally set free.

"Never thought those hypocrites would run here. Expect us to die for them. The happy little slaves. For the glory of THEIR Republic. You'll be okay, Commander. The General's agreed to stay until your back on your feet, just in case."

Headshot slides onto the bunk, sitting at my side, sweetly brushing hair from my face as though he hasn't lost his god damned mind. He's the picture of relief, now that there's no more secrets between us. Now that I'm injured and dependent on his help. Yet... it's teetering.

As though at any minute...

He could slide into some... unhinged state of mind. How LONG has he been on his last thread? Barely holding together? He leans forward and my mind goes utterly still. His lips pressed gently against mine. Chaste. Sweet. A warm, calloused hand, cradling my poor bruised cheek.

"I promise we'll stay together." He whispers against my stunned mouth. Eyes intent and mad, utterly loving. Like a strangers. "I won't let them seperate us. Not for anything. Now that it's done? We can be assigned anywhere. I'll take you with me. War's over, love. We're finally free."

Were we?