#These boys are the best thing that has ever happened to me

[heartsriki]

SOMEWHERE ALONG THE WAY ⌇ 우리를

pairing ᝰ ni-ki x fem!reader — featuring.. sunghoon | word count: 5.7k+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ childhood friends, tease ni-ki, middle school to highschool au, cussing, angst if you use a magnifying glass, fluff, kissing, underage drinking, miscommunication.

synopsis — Ever since middle school, Nishimura Riki has been an absolute pain. Now at your senior year of high school, things get complicated when confused feelings start to rise.

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊I am here to represent the playful over nonchalant riki agenda 🤓☝️I wanted this to give shitty 2000's romance movie did I succeed? (this is so ass but I haven't posted a pic in a while so muah, creative fics coming soon trust)

If there was one universal truth in your life, it was this: you hated Nishimura Riki.

Childhood best friends? The kind you see in movies, laughing over dumb jokes, sharing secrets under a blanket fort, or being there for each other no matter what? Yeah, that wasn’t you and Riki. Not even close.

Your history with him began the summer before middle school, a day you remembered all too clearly.

“Who’s moving in, Mom?” you asked, watching the moving truck parked outside the empty house next door.

She glanced over as she set down a stack of plates. “A family with a boy about your age,” she replied, patting your head. “Maybe you’ll make a new friend! Why don’t you go say hi?”

You wrinkled your nose, stepping back from the window. “I wish it was a girl.”

Mom sighed and gave you that knowing look as she moved around the kitchen. “You never know. Your dad and I were childhood friends once.”

“Gross,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “That’s so weird.”

And just like that, you moved on with your life, assuming the new boy next door was unimportant. After all, families came and went in your neighborhood. You didn’t expect him to stick around—or to matter.

Oh, how wrong you were.

The first day of middle school was supposed to be a fresh start. You had plans. Big plans. Make friends, fit in, and survive until High School. And for a moment, it seemed like everything would go smoothly. Until him.

Lunch was going fine. You grabbed your tray, scanning the cafeteria for a place to sit when you collided with someone. Hard.

Your lunch went flying, splattering all over you, and in your panic, you looked up, ready to apologize. But then you noticed he was perfectly fine—completely untouched—like the universe had gone out of its way to humiliate only you.

You glanced at his name tag. Nishimura Riki.

He crouched to help, concern etched across his face. “Are you okay—”

Before he could finish, a blinding camera flash went off, followed by whispers and giggles erupting all around you. Mortified, you bolted to the nearest bathroom.

You thought that would be the end of it, but Riki wasn’t done ruining your life. Far from it.

In gym class? He always aimed for you during dodgeball. At lunch? He somehow snagged the last banana milk every time. Clubs? Teachers practically begged him to join while you couldn’t even get a recommendation. Worst of all, everyone adored him. Everyone but you.

By the end of your first year, Nishimura Riki was your sworn enemy.

And then things got… complicated.

It happened one evening while you were studying in your room. A soft knock at the door interrupted your focus.

“Come in,” you called, expecting your mom.

She stepped inside with two glasses of water. “Remember the tutoring favor I mentioned? My friend’s son is here in need of help, Be nice, okay?”

“Sure,” you replied, not thinking much of it.

But when the door creaked open again, you froze.

“Not who you were expecting?” Riki grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe.

You crossed your arms. “What are you doing here Riki?”

Riki winced. “Tutoring obviously, and could you please just call me ni-ki like everyone else?”

“You’re not coming in,” you snapped, blocking the doorway.

He sighed dramatically. “And what would I tell your mom?” He bent slightly to meet your glare, his grin widening when you finally moved aside.

“Fine. Sit down,” you muttered, plopping back at your desk.

For the next hour, you worked in tense silence. Or tried to, anyway. Riki kept fidgeting, pulling out a folded piece of paper halfway through.

“What’s that?” you asked, snatching it before he could stop you.

“Hey!” he yelped, scrambling to grab it back.

It didn’t take long to figure out what it was: another love letter. You rolled your eyes and tossed it back at him. “Veryyyy humble.”

“Not my fault I’m handsome, but it really is annoying though, I'm constantly surrounded… sometimes I feel like I'm drowning” he muttered, leaning back on his hands.

You were thrown off by his sincerity but you ignored him until he suddenly perked up as if struck by divine inspiration.

“Wait,” he said, sitting up straighter. “I have an idea.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s never good.”

“Let’s be friends, like attached to the hip friends.”

You blinked. “What?”

He grinned. “Think about it. You don’t have anyone covering your back at school, and I need someone to scare off all the girls who keep following me around. It’s perfect.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hard pass.”

“Come on, at least think about it!” he whined.

Unfortunately, he didn’t leave you much of a choice. Day by day, Riki wormed his way into your life, showing up at your house, sticking by you at school, and, somehow, turning everyone’s attention to you.

It was annoying. It was infuriating. But, worst of all? It worked.

Fast forward to your senior year of high school, and here you were—still stuck with Nishimura Riki. And somehow, despite your ups and downs, things weren’t going to be quite so simple anymore.

You were buried in your assignments, your usual library spot surrounded by a fortress of papers, highlighters, and books. It was your sanctuary, a place where Riki always knew he could find you.

He wasn’t alone when he spotted you this time. A couple of his friends hung around, laughing about something entirely unimportant in his mind the second his eyes landed on you. His grin stretched wide, and with an exaggerated sigh, he excused himself. The girls groaned, rolling their eyes at his now-predictable antics. “You’re obsessed, ni-ki,” one of them muttered, but he didn’t care.

Jogging up to your table, he glanced at your mess of notes and books. You didn’t even look up. Of course.

“What is it, Riki?” you murmured, still scribbling, your tone bored, uninterested—classic.

“Would it kill you to talk to me lovingly every once in a while, Y/N?” he mocked, flopping into the chair across from you. His eyes darted to the pile of folded papers shoved to the side, and his eyebrows shot up. “Oh? What’s this? Love letters? These for me again?”

You finally glanced up, leveling him with that deadpan expression he swore you saved just for him. “They’re definitely not mine,” you replied flatly.

He gasped, hand over his chest like you’d shot him. “Poor baby. Jealous much?” he teased, leaning forward on his elbows.

“Of you? Hardly.”

Riki narrowed his eyes at you, suddenly curious. Now that he thought about it, he’d never actually seen you with anyone—no rumors, no dates, no shy confessions. And while you always rolled your eyes whenever he brought up girls in front of you, you never chimed in about any guy in your life. Suspicious.

“Y/N,” he started, his tone a little too casual as he began doodling nonsense shapes on the table. “When was the last time you had a boyfriend?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Well, you remember Choi—”

“Choi Soobin? That lasted, what, a week?” he scoffed, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

“And why do you think that is, genius?” you shot back, pointing your pencil at him accusingly.

Riki faltered for a split second before looking away. “Well… I think you can do so much better than him,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck.

Your brow shot up, amused. “Oh? Alright then, Mr. Matchmaker. Who’s my ‘better match,’ huh?”

His mouth opened, then shut. For once, he didn’t have a quick answer. He gulped, scrambling to save face. “How about I… set you up?”

You laughed, leaning back in your chair. “With one of your fuckboy friends? No thanks.”

“Hey! Not them!” he laughed, hands up in defense. “I meant someone like… Sunghoon.”

That made you pause. “Sunghoon? Like tall, calm, cool, and basically perfect Sunghoon? Yeah, right. He wouldn’t go on a date with me in a million years.”

“What? Says who?” Riki shot back, standing up like he’d just been challenged to a duel. “I’ll talk to him. Watch and learn, Y/N. Watch and learn.”

“Riki—”

“Later! Don’t miss me too much” He winked and walked off, leaving you to roll your eyes at his retreating figure, wondering if he’d actually follow through or if this was just another one of his ridiculous schemes.

“Y/N? I thought you guys were dating,” Sunghoon said, his brow furrowing in confusion as he leaned back against the locker.

Riki nearly choked on his water, his eyes going wide as he turned to face him. “What? No, Y/N is just a friend.” He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “Oh. Huh. Well, I think I’m gonna pass anyway. She’s kind of… boring?”

The words hit Riki like a slap. His head snapped toward Sunghoon so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. “Boring?” he echoed, his voice sharp. “Says who?”

Sunghoon shrugged nonchalantly. “Everyone. I mean, I haven’t seen her at a single party or game, not even during lunch. What would we even talk about?”

Riki scoffed, crossing his arms as he glared at him. “Y/N is plenty of fun, asshole. What do you even know?” His voice was defensive, almost protective, and it surprised even himself.

Sunghoon tilted his head, studying Riki’s reaction. “I mean, she seems… quiet,” he admitted. “But now that I think about it, if you’re the one setting me up with her, she’s probably pretty great. You don’t exactly play matchmaker for just anyone.”

Riki blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Uh… well, yeah, she is great,” he muttered, not meeting Sunghoon’s eyes.

Sunghoon grinned. “You know what? Why not? She’s cute.”

Riki froze. His grip tightened on the strap of his backpack, and for a split second, he wasn’t sure why his stomach twisted at Sunghoon’s words. Calling you cute? Of course, you were cute. He’d always known that. So why did it sound weird coming from someone else?

He quickly shook off the strange feeling, chalking it up to his usual overprotectiveness. “Alright,” he said, his voice coming out more clipped than he intended. “But don’t do anything weird. Seriously.”

Sunghoon laughed, pushing off the locker. “Weird? Relax, I’ll be a gentleman. So, you gonna tell her, or should I?”

Riki sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll tell her. Just… don’t mess this up, alright?”

Sunghoon smirked as he walked away. “I won’t. But, man, you’re acting real possessive for ‘just a friend,’ don’t you think?”

Riki didn’t respond, watching as Sunghoon disappeared down the hall. The words hung heavy in the air, and for the first time, he wondered if maybe—just maybe—he was more than just “overprotective” when it came to you.

Today, you felt a kind of giddiness you hadn’t experienced in a while. After weeks of drowning in study sessions, late-night cramming for club responsibilities, and endless schoolwork, you were finally doing something for yourself. And to top it all off, you weren’t just going out—you were going out with a boy.

It had been forever since you’d made this much effort. You dolled yourself up, not too over the top, but more than your usual routine. Casual but undeniably cute. You felt like a new version of yourself, and it was exciting.

Standing in front of your mirror, you hummed along to the music playing softly in the background, carefully adjusting your hair. You tilted your head, giving yourself one last once-over with a satisfied grin when there was a knock on your door.

“Y/N, I’m coming in,” came the familiar voice.

Before you could even respond, the door creaked open, and Riki stepped inside. His usual easy-going demeanor faltered the second he saw you. The air felt heavy, and his eyes widened as if he’d been caught off guard.

For a moment, he just stared, the words dying in his throat. Why were you so dressed up? He’d seen you a thousand times, but never like this. Something about the way your hair framed your face, the slight gloss on your lips, and the way your outfit hugged your figure—it was like he was seeing you for the first time.

Were you always this pretty?

“Is he on his way? What kind of car does he drive?” you asked, practically buzzing with excitement.

Your voice snapped him out of whatever trance he was in, and he blinked, his expression hardening as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Uh… yeah, he’s almost here,” he muttered, his tone uncharacteristically stiff.

The doorbell rang, and your face lit up instantly. Clapping your hands together, you grabbed your bag and checked your outfit one last time. You turned to him, your eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Not too bad, right? Think he’ll like it?”

Riki froze again. The words caught in his throat, and for a second, he thought about telling you the truth. That you looked beautiful. That the thought of you being this excited about someone else was bothering him more than it should.

But instead, his pride got the better of him. “I—well—you look stupid,” he blurted out, his words harsher than he intended.

You rolled your eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Say whatever you want, Riki. Your opinion doesn’t matter tonight. I’ll text you the details tomorrow!”

And just like that, you were gone, your scent lingering in the room as you hurried past him and out the door.

Riki stood there, staring at the space you’d just left. His chest felt tight, an unfamiliar weight settling there as he replayed the moment in his head. What was this feeling? Why was his stomach twisting uncomfortably at the thought of you with someone else?

He swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair as he sat on your bed, shoulders slumping. Something was changing—something he wasn’t sure he was ready to admit yet. But as he sat there, his chest aching and his mind racing, one thing was becoming painfully clear.

He didn’t want to be the one you texted tomorrow to tell all the details about tonight. He wanted to be the one sitting across from you, the one you were so excited to see. And that realization scared him more than anything.

The next week was nothing short of torture for Riki. As if fate was playing a cruel joke, you and Sunghoon seemed to hit it off. You weren’t officially dating, but the two of you were in the so-called “talking stage.” It didn’t matter what stage it was—every second of it felt wrong to Riki.

Your usual library spot? You weren’t alone anymore. Sunghoon was always there, sitting across from you, leaning in too close, making you laugh in ways that Riki used to. Your desk? It was now stocked with your favorite snacks every morning—snacks that weren’t from Riki. And the final blow? You called Sunghoon by his nickname. His nickname. Riki clenched his fists every time he overheard it because not once in all the years he’d known you had you ever called him by a nickname.

What did Sunghoon have that Riki didn’t? He left snacks, visited you in the library, and called you nicknames. Riki did all of that first. So why wasn’t it enough?

For the first time, Riki felt you slipping away. And for the first time, he realized just how much you meant to him. But instead of confronting those feelings, he did what he always did best—he buried them.

The dismissal bell rang, and the school flooded with students rushing to leave. You were taking your time, slowly packing up while your music played softly in your headphones. A tap on your shoulder startled you, making you jump.

“Hey, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” Sunghoon said with an easy laugh.

You laughed back, pushing him playfully. “It’s fine. Yeah, I’m ready to go, but we should wait for Riki. He might need a ride home.”

Sunghoon’s brow furrowed, confused. “ni-ki? I thought he went on that date.”

Your hands paused mid-motion. “What?”

“Yeah, didn’t he tell you? He’s been talking about it all day.” Sunghoon said it so casually, but his words felt like a punch to your chest.

No. Riki hadn’t told you anything. And now that you thought about it, he’d been distant recently, skipping out on plans and barely texting back. But to go on a date and not even mention it? That wasn’t like him at all. A strange feeling bubbled in your chest—was it anxiety or something else entirely?

“Oh. I guess we should just go then,” you murmured, brushing past Sunghoon, who quickly followed after you.

It stayed like that for weeks. Riki kept avoiding you, making himself scarce. He didn’t leave snacks on your desk anymore, didn’t visit you in the library, and the only time you caught glimpses of him was when he was with her. That girl in his friend group—except now, his arm was around her shoulder.

Something about seeing them together twisted your stomach into knots. You couldn’t figure out what was going on. The absence of Nishimura Riki was a void you weren’t coping with well. You missed his annoying presence, his whining, his endless teasing. When had he become so important to you? And more importantly, why did it hurt so much to see him with someone else?

Days passed, your short fling with Sunghoon had come to an end. You and Sunghoon realized you weren’t a good match. It wasn’t dramatic; the spark just wasn’t there. You were relieved to have gained a friend, but even that small resolution didn’t fill the aching gap that Riki had left behind.

One day, as you trudged toward class, your thoughts heavy, you spotted him. For a moment, everything else faded. His uniform was crisp for once, his hair falling perfectly across his forehead, and his headphones hung loosely around his neck. You felt your heart skip, a familiar warmth creeping in. But then you saw her—the girl. She was right next to him, laughing as she leaned closer.

Riki caught your eyes, and for a moment, you swore you saw something flicker in his expression. But then he looked away, a fake smile plastered back on his face, and it felt like someone had ripped the air out of your lungs.

You couldn’t take it anymore. The sudden, painful realization hit you like a truck—you had fallen for Nishimura Riki. The cocky, annoying, rude, childish Riki. And you had realized it far too late.

Fueled by a sense of urgency, you stormed over to him. The closer you got, the more his eyes widened. His body tensed, his jaw clenching as if he knew what was coming.

“Riki, I need to talk to you,” you said, your voice trembling slightly.

He scoffed, avoiding your gaze as he shifted awkwardly. “What could we possibly need to talk about?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Oh, I don’t know. How about the fact that you’ve been ignoring me for weeks? How about the fact that you’ve completely shut me out?”

He let out a bitter laugh, his eyes now locking with yours. “Me? Ignoring you? Don’t make me laugh. Weren’t you the one who ditched me first? The second Sunghoon gave you a little attention, you were all over him like he was your whole world.”

You flinched at the venom in his words. “What are you even talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb!” he snapped, his voice rising. “You’ve been desperate for attention since day one. The moment someone else gave it to you, you didn’t even think twice about ditching me.”

The words stung more than you thought possible, and tears welled in your eyes. “Is that how you really see me? Someone who just begs for love and clings to anyone willing to give it? Or is that what you wanted me to be? Someone who would never leave you, so you could string me along whenever you wanted? Like you always have?”

His eyes softened, regret flickering through them, but before he could respond, the girl at his side stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm.

“Alright ni-ki.. I get it now.” You took that as your cue. Turning on your heel, you walked away without looking back, tears blurring your vision.

He gulped as he watched you walk away, Itching to chase after you. He never thought the loss of his first name coming from your lips would hurt this much. But it did.

For the nights after that, sleep was impossible. You lay there staring at the ceiling, replaying the confrontation with Riki over and over in your head. His words, his tone, the hurt that lingered in his eyes despite the venom in his voice—it was all too much. The raw pain left a lump in your throat, and the longer you thought about it, the more your chest ached.

You didn’t know how to move past it. Slowly, you started closing yourself off. The window you always left unlocked for Riki to climb through at night? It was shut now, the latch sealed as if closing it would somehow lock away the memories too.

Everything was weighing on you, dragging you deeper into a pit of emotions you couldn’t escape from. You needed something—anything to distract yourself. That’s when you remembered Sunghoon’s message from earlier.

Sunghoon:

Hey I know parties aren’t really your thing, but you can always come and stick with me tonight if you want? LMK.

You sighed, staring at the screen for what felt like forever before finally making a decision. Maybe this was what you needed, a change of scenery, a chance to forget for just one night. Without overthinking, you hit the call button.

He answered almost immediately, his voice casual but with a hint of surprise. “Hey, Y/N, what’s up?”

“Hey, Hoon,” you said, your voice soft but steady. “I’ll be on my way soon.”

When you arrived at the party, the air was buzzing with energy. Music thumped loudly in the background, lights flickered through the windows, and the yard was packed with groups of people chatting and laughing. You felt a pang of anxiety as you stepped inside, but it was quickly drowned out when Sunghoon spotted you from across the room.

“Y/N!” he called, weaving through the crowd with a grin. “You made it.”

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “Yeah, I thought I’d give it a shot.”

“I’m glad you came,” he said, resting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to some people, and we can hang out.”

He led you through the party, his presence grounding you as you met new faces and settled into the environment. For the first time in what felt like weeks, you felt yourself relaxing. Laughing. Forgetting.

But that peace was short-lived.

Halfway through the night, as you stood by the kitchen with Sunghoon, sipping on a red solo cup which he’d handed you, your eyes landed on someone you weren’t prepared to see. Riki.

He was standing on the far side of the room, a red Solo cup in hand, his face half-hidden by the shadowy lighting. But it was unmistakably him. His posture was relaxed, but he wasn’t speaking as his group of friends talked. You looked around for the girl he grasped onto recently but she was nowhere in sight.

Your chest tightened, and it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. For a moment, all the progress you’d made to distract yourself unraveled. You tried to look away, but it was like your eyes were glued to him.

Sunghoon noticed immediately. “Hey,” he said gently, stepping in front of you to block your view. “You okay?”

You blinked, forcing yourself to focus on him. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

But you weren’t fine. Not at all.

Riki hadn’t noticed you at first, too caught up in the chaos of the party. But when he finally glanced toward the kitchen, his heart stopped. There you were, standing next to Sunghoon, looking beautiful in a way that made his chest ache.

His grip on his cup tightened as he watched Sunghoon lean closer, whispering something that made you laugh softly. That laugh. The one he hadn’t heard in weeks. It was his laugh, the one you used to share with him.

“ni-ki,” a girl next to him said, tugging on his sleeve to grab his attention. But he barely heard her, his focus still glued to you.

“Excuse me for a second,” he mumbled, setting his cup down and stepping away from his group. He didn’t even know what he was doing. His feet carried him across the room before his brain had the chance to catch up.

You saw him coming before he even reached you. The sight of him walking toward you, his expression unreadable, made your stomach twist. Sunghoon glanced over his shoulder and immediately stiffened.

“Y/N,” Riki said, his voice low but firm as he stopped in front of you. His gaze flickered to Sunghoon briefly before settling back on you. “Can we talk?”

You hesitated, your walls immediately going up. “What is there to talk about, ni-ki?”

“Please,” he said, his tone softer now, almost desperate wincing at the way you spit his nickname.

Sunghoon stepped closer, his presence protective. “Maybe now isn’t the time, Riki.”

Riki’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. “I wasn’t asking you, Sunghoon.”

Your heart was racing, caught between the two of them. The tension in the air was suffocating, and you didn’t know what to do.

“I’ll give you guys a minute,” Sunghoon finally said, his voice steady but his eyes lingering on you for reassurance before he walked off.

Riki took a step closer, his hands buried in his pockets as he looked at you with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “For everything.”

You swallowed hard, your emotions a whirlwind. “I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”

“Then don’t say anything,” he said quickly. “Just… listen. Please.”

And so, for the first time in weeks, you let him talk.

He led you up the stairs, weaving through the chaos of the party. The bass of the music faded the further you went, replaced by the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. He stopped in front of an empty room, pushing the door open and letting you step inside first. The room was dim, lit only by the moonlight streaming through the window. When he followed, the soft click of the door shutting behind him felt heavier than it should have.

You turned to face him, crossing your arms defensively. Your guard was up, and he could see it all over your face—your hurt, your anger, your confusion. He hated that he was the one who put that look in your eyes. How had things gotten so messed up? It reminded him of when you were younger, back in middle school, when he could never find the right words to say to you. But this time, it felt like so much more was at stake.

“Y/N…” His voice was quiet, laced with hesitation, his dark eyes glowing softly under the light. “I haven’t been real with you lately.”

You didn’t say anything, your glare sharp enough to cut through him.

“To be honest…” He froze, the words catching in his throat as his face heated up. He looked down, running a hand through his hair as if it would steady him. “Well, I’ve realized that you mean… a lot more to me than I thought.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat, but your defenses didn’t falter. “What are you trying to say?”

He sighed, taking a tentative step closer. “I’m saying I screwed up, okay? I’ve been jealous, selfish, and downright stupid. Seeing you with Sunghoon, thinking I might lose you… it made me realize something.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting, your breath catching as he took another step closer.

“I like you, Y/N,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of his confession. “No, scratch that—I’m in love with you. I think I’ve been in love with you for a while now, but I was too dumb to figure it out until I almost lost you.”

Your heart was pounding, the walls you’d built around yourself threatening to crumble. His words felt like a punch to the gut, but in the best way possible.

“Why now?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Why did it take all of this for you to say something?”

“I was scared,” he admitted, his tone filled with regret. “Scared of ruining what we already had. But when I saw you with him, I realized I couldn’t just stand by and lose you. I’m sorry, Y/N. For everything. I just… I need you to know how I feel.”

You stared at him, your emotions a whirlwind. Part of you wanted to stay mad, to keep your guard up and protect yourself. But the other part—the part that had always been soft for him—wanted to believe every word he was saying.

“Riki,” you started, your voice trembling. “You really hurt me, you know that, right?”

He nodded, guilt washing over his face. “I know, and I’ll spend however long it takes making it up to you pretty. I swear.”

There was a long silence as you studied him, searching his face for any sign that he wasn’t being genuine. But all you saw was raw vulnerability.

Finally, you sighed, stepping closer to him. “You’re such an idiot,” you muttered, but there was no malice in your voice.

He smiled softly, a flicker of hope lighting up his eyes. “I’ve been told.”

Before you could second-guess yourself, you reached up, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him closer. His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t hesitate. His hands found your waist as you stood on your toes, and then, without another word, you kissed him.

It was soft at first, tentative, like the two of you were still testing the waters. But as the moment deepened, all the tension, all the weeks of hurt and miscommunication melted away. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you closer, and you let yourself fall into him completely.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathless. He smiled at you, his usual cocky grin softened by the tenderness in his eyes.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Don’t push your luck.”

He laughed, the sound light and carefree, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like everything was going to be okay.

BONUS 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Riki had known you since middle school. Back then, you were the girl who sat by the window during lunch, scribbling in your notebook or reading while everyone else was too busy trying to be cool. You were quiet but quick-witted, and for some reason, that always fascinated him.

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he started noticing you more. Maybe it was the time you helped him with a history project because he procrastinated and would’ve failed without you, Maybe… It was the day you both ran into each other. Literally.

He hated admitting it, but he always found himself drawn to you. You weren’t flashy or loud like the other people in his life. You were just you—calm, focused, and, most of all, real.

But middle school Riki wasn’t great at handling feelings. Instead of being sweet to you, he’d tease you mercilessly, always looking for a reaction. He loved how your face would scrunch up when you were annoyed or how you’d mutter sarcastic comebacks under your breath, pretending you weren’t affected.

Even then, he knew you were different. Special. But he never let himself think too much about it.

As the years passed, his feelings only grew, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself. By the time high school rolled around, you were still his constant. The one person he could always count on, the one who somehow understood him without needing a million words.

But somewhere along the way, he’d started feeling something heavier whenever he saw you. When you smiled at him, it felt like a spark ignited in his chest. When you scolded him for slacking off, he’d secretly enjoy the attention. And when you laughed—God, when you laughed—he swore it was his favorite sound in the world.

Still, he buried those feelings deep. He figured it was better to keep things the way they were. If he said something and you didn’t feel the same, he could lose you entirely, and the thought of that terrified him.

Then Sunghoon came into the picture. And for the first time, he realized he wasn’t the only one who could see how amazing you were. Watching you smile at someone else, laugh at someone else’s jokes, give someone else the attention that used to be his—it tore him apart. He felt like he was suffocating, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

Even now, standing in that room with you after finally confessing everything, he couldn’t help but think back to all those moments from middle school. How blind had he been? How stupid to waste so much time pretending he didn’t care?

Looking at you now, your cheeks flushed, your eyes searching his face like you were trying to figure him out, he realized he didn’t want to hold back anymore.

He smiled, soft and genuine, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You know,” he said, his voice low, “I think I’ve been falling for you since middle school. I just didn’t know how to say it back then. Guess I’m still figuring it out now.”

You blinked at him, stunned for a moment, before a small laugh escaped your lips. “You’ve been a mess since middle school, Riki.”

“Yeah,” he said, his grin growing wider. “But I’m your mess now.”

And with that, he kissed you again, pouring years of unspoken feelings into the moment, knowing he’d finally found where he belonged—right there, with you.

[natalchartnurtures]

•Pick-A-Meme• How Do Your Friends View You?

1-2-3 >>

Cue the intro to F.R.I.E.N.D.S

Pile 1:

Spirit message to open your reading – "a bundle of joy." Aw, haha, I get a really warm, expansive energy radiating from you. It's quite beautiful as I sit in it right now. It’s as if I’m basking in soft sunshine on a Sunday morning—so light, so golden. This is exactly how your friends view you. You’re a ray of soft sunshine, pile 1. Believe it or not, you are the embodiment of joy and kindness to the people around you. Your presence is deeply felt and appreciated, especially in the world we live in rn.

Your friends may think you’re incredibly lucky? Maybe you’re the lucky charm of your friend group? Or maybe it’s just that you bring a lot of fun wherever you go. You give me fairy vibes tbh. You remind me of Tinker Bell sprinkling her pixie dust wherever she goes (you don’t have to be a ‘she’ to take that message, btw) and lifting people’s frequency without even trying to. This could happen on subconscious levels as well, so your friends might not know how to put a finger on how you make them feel. They might just describe you as a lovely person to be around.

Ooh, I’m getting that even though you might like to keep your circle small, you may have a lot of people around you generally. It might just be that you make a lot of people feel like they want to get into your close circle but can’t. You probably don’t even realize it, lol. To you, you’re just living a normal life and being your fairy-ass self—cute, kind, generous, wonderful, authentic, divine, and casually powerful (lol). Let me tell you, IT HAS A PROFOUND IMPACT on everybody you know and interact with, not just your friends. You impact strangers, acquaintances, potential romantic suitors (which you have a TON of, I hear—not sure if you know this).

Your presence is felt, pile 1. I don’t care if you’re a wallflower or a theater kid. You. Are. The IT GIRL/BOY/PERSON of the room, and that’s it. You may be blissfully unaware of it (and that’s a sign that your aura is heavily protected, which is a good thing, so dw).

MOVING ON—your friends view you as a go-getter. They see you as incredibly creative and capable of achieving whatever you set your mind to. You give BALANCE, in every sense of the word. You are equally feminine, loving, nurturing, and caring as you are protective, fierce, and masculine. This quality of yours is so bloody admired. You are the textbook example of integrity, pile 1. Wow. I’m in awe of your energy. Keep it up, sweets—you must’ve done some really intense inner healing to get to such a beautiful internal place.

Now, things take a very interesting turn. I see that a lot of the people you know but aren’t especially close with may be interested in you romantically but don’t come forth with their intentions. They prefer to simply stay in the "friend" zone (maybe ‘cause they feel unworthy of stepping towards you? Idk). These people seem to be in their distorted masculine energy, and you seem to trigger the ever-loving crap outta them, lmao. It’s just your beautiful light that automatically does it for you, yk.

People you know (but aren’t close with) could secretly be jealous of you. In their eyes, you’re living the dream life—whatever that means for them. But just know that you’re heavily protected at this time, yea? Any kind of energy that could potentially harm you will be dealt with by Spirit. Spirit wants only the best for you, and your energy demands nothing but the very best. So if you feel rejected, lonely, or like not a lot is happening in your life, it’s because of this. Take rejection as a positive sign that you’re divinely protected :)

So, that’s how your friends view you! Hope you enjoyed this read—I can’t wait to see you on my next one :] Have a nice rest of your day, sweet pea! And stay your divine, amazing-ass self, tehe ✨️

If you'd like to know more about how your friends view you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

Pile 2:

Opening energies for the pile – I heard the song "Reincarnated" by Kendrick Lamar as I tapped into how your friends view you. Pile 2, I must say... your friends view you as a badass person. Hardcore, intense, low tolerance for BS, and possibly having old-soul energy is how your friends see you. They love your sarcasm, your witty humor and the light energy you bring to everything you do.

Also... I’m ngl, your friends think you’re a bit like Kendrick Lamar himself, haha. They might think you’re really talented at something and potentially have star quality, too. Do you have any major Leo energy in your chart, maybe? ‘Cause you sure come off that way to your friends, and they LOVE this leaning vibe about you. You seem so open, generous, and childlike with your friends but intense to people who aren’t, haha lmao. You may have an RBF that scares some people away 😂 (but enjoy that, maybe?). You’re hilarious.

Side note: If you’ve ever considered doing stand-up comedy, I see you being super successful at it 😁👀

Do you like Kendrick Lamar, pile 2? ‘Cause that song I channeled is playing in my ears LOUD and clear as I’m reading for you, haha.

Your friends might view you as somebody with a complex but deeply satisfying and rich inner world. You may love being by yourself as much as you love goofing off with your friends. They find this very interesting about you, tbh. They see you as somebody that’s “detached but VERY cool.”

You come across as the cool boy/girl/person in the room. You have an energy that stands out, and the best part is you don’t even care, haha. You’re just living in your own mind and checked out from the world unless there’s something worthwhile that catches your attention irl. Haha, that’s so iconic.

Ooh... your friends may view you as very attractive, too, ‘cause I just saw Christina Aguilera from her Dirrty MV, and boy, does she EAT in that ICONIC VIDEO. That MV is how I can summarize your energy and how it’s viewed by your friends, pile 2. It’s quite powerful (in a nonchalant typa way), too, I’m ngl. Like, idc about you but HAVE LOADS OF MONEY simply ‘cause you didn’t give a fuck, lmao.

You might be deeply spiritual, and to your friends, it comes as a very mysterious part of you. They don’t fully understand it, but on some level, they acknowledge that it’s a BIG part of who you are and respect it for what it is.

They view you as highly individualistic. As someone who’s gonna do what they wanna do and still land on their feet every time. They view you as “this person will be fine no matter what happens,” ‘cause I feel this raw strength emanating from you, which your friends easily pick up on. It’s something they love about you, too, yk.

Your friends view you as somebody who finds it hard to let their guard down. They see you as someone who’s come from a difficult life/upbringing, and they understand that you need your space from time to time. You seem to have very mature and protective friends, pile 2! Good for you, haha.

They view you as somebody who is content and fulfilled in their life despite any past challenges. They admire everything you’ve accomplished despite these challenges. And if you’ve been through a transformation recently, they really see this shift inside you, and they’re really happy about it 😊👀

They might feel as if you still struggle with some things related to your past, though, but on some level, they expect to see a breakthrough in your energy soon. They know for a fact you’ll get over anything ‘cause, according to them, you eat challenges for breakfast 😂 Haha, love that.

So, that’s how your friends view you! Hope you enjoyed this read—I can’t wait to see you on my next one :] Have a nice rest of your day, sweet pea! And stay your divine, badass self, tehe ✨

If you'd like to know more about how your friends view you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

Pile 3:

Spirit messages to open your reading – "inspiring and very healing to be." You give papa bear energy, pile 3 (regardless of your gender). You have this sweet and tender vibe towards your friends, and that’s how they see you. Somebody with a precious heart and an even more precious mind—always buzzing and alive with thoughts.

Your friends might reeeeally love chatting with you. You give me therapist vibes, tbh. Talking to you is sooooo soothing. But I think what your friends don��t understand is that while you give great advice and are fun to talk to, you might not always be in a good place mentally. I feel like your friends assume that you’re fine on the inside when you’re not? Maybe they have a false impression of you? Hm. Interesting. This might be ‘cause you simply keep your mental health struggles to yourself.

You don’t want your friends to bear what you think is your burden to bear. You don’t wanna bleed on everybody else, so to speak, and this has your friends viewing you as a light ✨. You give me strong Chiron vibes, tbh—the wounded healer in every sense of the word. You have quiet compassion towards people in general, and that’s really appreciated, but not necessarily always seen. If that’s the case with you, I’m so sorry, pile 3. You deserve to be CELEBRATED for your heart and deserve friends that truly appreciate you!

Your friends view you as a bit of a mom figure in their lives. Maybe you take on a lot of responsibility, so they see you that way. You are viewed as a safe space where anybody can be themselves without feeling judged. This is that therapist energy I was picking up from your vibe earlier. You might have some very emotionally disconnected (and potentially immature) friends in your life, pile 3. Hm.

Interestingly, your friends also see you as somebody who's not a pushover, though. You know how to burn a bridge when it's time, and this is something about you that's respected. They could describe you as someone who's a nice person but not a doormat. You know how to move on and get that REVENGE if you're pushed to your limits—and you'd do it with such ease that the people you've left behind might be baffled by it.

I'm also getting that you might've gone through a heartbreak recently? If so, I'm sending you loads of love, sweet pea. Hope you heal well from this. I see that beyond this heartbreak is a fresh new start for you, leading you straight into a joyous outcome. Like, say you broke up with your significant other—I see you meeting new people by the end of your healing period, potentially even your next suitor! (Apply this to whatever situation you're in, though.)

But yeah, to sum it up, your friends view you as a wonderful friend, confidant, and just... a healing presence.

So that's how your friends view you, pile 3. Hope you got something helpful out of this read—I can't wait to see you on my next one :]

Have a nice rest of your day, sweet pea! And stay your divine Chiron-ass self, tehe ✨

If you'd like to know more about how your friends view you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

[michuga]

see both sides like chanel

summary: your best friend, jeongguk, has only ever dated boys. unbeknownst to you, (he was also into girls).

pairing: jeongguk x fem reader

content: best friends to lovers, sexual tension, fluff, reader is a little absentminded, jk is a damn tease

warnings: cursing, (it gets steamy)

wc: 2k

you and jeongguk have been friends for the past seven years.

jeongguk has only ever dated boys.

does that a gay man make? no! of course not, you knew this. it is the big year of 2025 after all. sexuality is a spectrum; and you were never one to judge.

leaning in, jeongguk brushes his lips against yours.

and that's how you ended up kissing your very gay best friend.

or, not? i guess?

you don't know if it was because he was your best friend; instantly crossed off as a potential lover in your mind anyway, or because he was always sporting a new shiny boy toy every couple of weeks. or the crop tops he wore all throughout high school. or the sexy fireman posters plastered all over his dorm room walls in college! either way; you never would have expected to end up bent over on his couch on a random tuesday afternoon.

but one thing is for sure.

you were stupid.

oh so very stupid.

you're probably wondering how you got here.

well, let me walk you through it.

it all started with an incident that happened a few months ago.

your best friend, jeongguk, was on your bed, ranting to you about his new fling.

"i can't believe i ever thought jimin and i could work," he complains.

grabbing the hem of your blouse, you lift it up and off your body, tossing it across your room.

left in your black lacy bra, you scour your closet for something to wear.

a minute or so passes, and you finally notice the silence that falls upon the room. you turn around to find him visibly preoccupied, going through his phone.

"you were saying..?" you tap his shoulder.

clearing his throat he continues, maintaining eye contact with his phone, "i just don't think he's the one for me. he's too.. flaky?"

you've always found it adorable how jeongguk got shy at times like these. it's been seven years and he has remained ever the gentleman, never taking advantage of your friendship or abusing the amount of trust you put in him. you never had reason to doubt him anyway, it's not like you were exactly his... type, per se.

"i agree, babe. you deserve way better than that," you say, returning to the agonizing task at hand; finding an outfit amidst the chaos that is your closet.

finally picking one out, you hold up the hangers against your body, standing in front of your full length mirror to see how it would look on you.

"what do you think of this?" you ask, lost in thought.

"your black skirt would go along better," jeongguk mumbles from your bed.

"right? i thought so too." putting the hangers down, you bend over to grab said skirt from your bottom drawer.

from an outside perspective, one could consider you shameless.

from jeongguk's perspective, he found you amusing.

and from your perspective.. well, the most complicated thought in your mind right now was putting together a damn outfit.

an hour later, you and jeongguk sit at your table eating the brunch he cooked you, catching up on your busy lives; as was your routine together.

"and this girl i was fooling around with at the time-"

your brain short circuits.

"come again?"

"what?"

"sorry, i thought you said girl." you say with a dismissive laugh, "imagine that."

"i did." he looks at you with furrowed eyebrows and an amused smile.

the entirety of your coffee is wasted in your spit take.

you wish you were exaggerating.

cleaning up the mess you made on the table, you backtrack.

"you like girls???"

"..yes?"

looking at him suspiciously, you scramble to find your words. you didn't want to offend him, but he had caught you very off guard.

"did you think i was gay?" he asks, with a raise of his eyebrows, fully dumbfounded this time.

"i've just.. you've always.. i've only ever seen you with guys?"

"well yeah, those are just the ones i've encountered, i guess."

"you're telling me we've been friends for the past seven years, and i'm just finding this out now?"

"damn. when you put it that way, you sound like a real bad friend, you know," he says with a chuckle, casually gulping down the rest of his coffee.

oh. oh.

helikesgirls

helikesgirlsandhe'sseenyounaked

helikesgirlsandhe'sseenyounakedonmultipleoccasions

with a small smirk and a tilt of his head, he gets up and walks up to you. "don't worry, you're still not my type." he whispers in your ear.

"if you need me, i'll be with the community dick!" he yells out as he walks away, taking your dignity and your pride with him; the last of it escaping with the final click of your apartment door.

"god how stupid am i?" you complain, rather dramatically, to your other best friend, hoseok. "i mean, how could i just blatantly assume he was gay? what if i made him uncomfortable before and he never told me? i'm a terrible friend!" flailing your arms, you ignore the dirty looks from onlookers passing by.

"i'm sure if you had made him uncomfortable, he would have told you. this is jeongguk we're talking about? are you trying to tell me he has any sort of filter?" he jokes, trying to cheer you up.

repeatedly bumping your head into the wall in front you, you surrender to the sea of embarrassment you found yourself drowning in.

"you should have seen my face. as if i wasn't stupid enough already, i made things awkward and rethought every interaction we've ever had, like, right in front of him. you could literally see the gears turning in my brain. i probably looked like a bloated pufferfish blowing bubbles. stupid, stupid, stupid," you repeatedly smack yourself in the face.

"wait. you're gay though, right??" you ask, suddenly feeling as insecure as ever.

"yes babe, i came out to you in the 12th grade. still as straight as rupaul." he says with a chuckle, finding your meltdown completely adorable.

reaching behind you, he takes hold of your seatbelt and fastens it.

you can't help but burn bright red. what the fuck is wrong with you? what ever changed? he's still jeongguk. your jeongguk. the same jeongguk whose clothes you helped clean from vomit, after he got drunk one too many times back in college?

you feel like ripping all your hair out.

maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

jeongguk had picked you up from work, and you were on your way to his place to hang out, as usual.

"so it's either that or fried chicken.. what do you think?"

"huh?"

"i said what do you want to order??"

"oh.. anything is fine, thanks," you say awkwardly, clearing your throat.

"okay then?" he says as he starts the car.

a few hours later and the evening was going smoothly. perhaps too smoothly.

mishaps forgotten, you and your best friend sit in his living room, eating, laughing, and watching desperate housewives. just as you always have been for years.

"i'm gonna go get us some more drinks," you say as you get up, making your way over to his kitchen.

"he's such an idiot," you mumble to yourself as you chuckle, remembering the joke jeongguk had cracked a minute prior.

initially you open the fridge to check for beer, but there wasn't any; so you resort to plan B: the fancy wine he stores in his top cupboard.

you stand on your tiptoes and extend your arm up, trying to reach the wine bottle.

suddenly you feel a prescence behind you. last time you checked, brick walls can't move. so if 1+1 equals 2; then warmth, musky vanilla and hard equals jeongguk.

you see a bigger arm reach up and get the job done. "here, let me."

"thanks.." and just like that, the strange feeling is back.

you knew there was no way the evening could go smoothly. no, you're never that lucky.

pulling away, jeongguk pops open the wine bottle, pouring crimson liquid in two glasses.

you jump up to sit on the kitchen counter.

"have you picked out an outfit for the gathering yet?" he asks, taking a sip of his wine.

"nope," you say with a sigh, shoulders slumped in defeat. "it seems like everything i try doesn't look as good on me as i imagine in my head."

"but everything looks good on you, doll."

"are you putting the moves on me, jeon?" you say, jokingly; waiting for him to laugh along.

inching closer, closer, closer.. he stops and situates himself between your legs.

"and what if i am?" he mutters with a deep hushed voice. "am i making you nervous?" mere inches between your faces laced with thick, undeniable tension. he dare not raise his voice a single octave; for that could ruin the intimacy of it all.

whether it was something in the air or the liquor in both your systems, something between you had shifted.

this was not your gay best friend.

this was someone much more dangerous.

"we really.. really shouldn't.." voice barely above a whisper, you manage to let out with every remaining ounce of self-control you have. a feather light hand on his chest, you fruitlessly attempt to push him away; physically melting into his touch instead.

grabbing your hand, he holds it in his.

"do you have any idea how batshit crazy you drove me all those times, stripping half naked right in front of me?" he starts, voice raspy and full of need, slowly tracing his finger along your thigh, going up, up.. "mindlessly running your mouth, bending over in your tiny panties.. when all i wanted to do was bend you over myself, and put you in your place? my best friend of seven years, assuming my sexuality.. tsk tsk.."

ghosting a hand over your throat, he firmly grips your chin, lifting your head up to meet his gaze.

"do you want me to show you.." with a sinister smirk he breathes into your ear, "just how much i love women?"

your breath catches in your throat.

it was at that moment he leaned forward and crashed his lips against yours, closing the gap between you.

78% nitrogen and 21% oxygen in the atmosphere, but right in this very room and in this very moment; it's 100% you, jeongguk, and your breathless pants. a different third gas; the kind that smells like blurring the lines between you and your best friend. potentially damning a solid friendship, and throwing years down the drain. not 1% was spared for rationale.

both of you are forced separate, bound by your human bodies, in need of air.

ravenous, you grab his shirt collar and shoved him right against your face, devouring his lips once more.

with a groan, his free hand grabs your calf, hitching your leg against his hip. you wrap it around his waist, while the other hangs low; your heels hanging poorly on your foot and finally dropping to the floor with a clank.

both of you move rhythmically at first, then it gets sloppy; a sense of urgency overwhelming you. your lips move together with hurry, adrenaline coursing through your body; as if replacing the very blood that flows through your veins. chasing his lips, you just about swallow him whole.

not that he minds, he seems adamant on doing the exact same.

tangling your fingers in his hair, you angle your head better to ensure your prey is perfectly trapped. an act of cannibalism.

it was primal in the most natural way, finally letting go after an entire night of need and clouded lust.

"mm'not.. here," you mumble in between kisses.

finally picking you up and wrapping both your legs around his waist, he wastes no time leading you to the nearest surface he could find. well, as good as he can see, anyway.

and that's the story of how you hooked up with your bisexual best friend.

you learned the hard way.

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ GDRAGON AS A FATHER

୨ৎ pairing: father!jiyong x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: quite soft, quite fluffy, and emotional!

୨ৎ from myeong: hi!! so happy to receive this adore request and I’ve been so excited to get to it! I hope you can enjoy this and seeing a dad jiyong would be the cutest ever!! ): such a sweetheart x

jiyong will be the most softest, caring, sweetest, loving, supportive, and genuine father ever!!!!!!!!!!

does not care about whether the first baby will be a boy or a girl all he cares about is having a healthy child that he can help him become a better person.

enjoys letting the baby hold his finger and takes at least a dozen photos even when you tell him it’s a bit pointless to have so many of the same photos.

“it’s not! what if something happens to the first few I took then I need to have more for backup!”

jiyong will be extremely overprotective and if a family member wants to hold the baby he has to be near to watch and make sure everything is okay.

“see that precious smile? that’s because of me.”

you’ll give him this look and he then of course adds you in and thanks you for helping in the creation of the baby and why he/she is just so beautiful. aww

“do you think he’ll/she’ll look more like me or look more like you as they get older? I’m so curious.”

jiyong will kiss you and tell you to go back to sleep while he takes care of the baby during the night. he knows you need all the rest you can get for being up most of the day with the baby. he’s very caring.

spoils the child rotten but also makes sure that he or she has the best manners even at such a young age, teaching basic skills and always showing the baby how much he loves you for everything you do.

as the child gets older it only makes jiyong slightly panic because he wanted so badly for the baby to stay little forever but of course it doesn’t work that way so he spends extra time filming for memories.

“one sec! let me take this last picture.. alright I got it. gosh.. she/he looks so perfect thanks to us.”

when it’s just the three of you jiyong sometimes gets emotional and talks about how much he’s always wanted a family like this and he still can’t believe he finally has one after so many years.

takes family time very seriously. he’ll cut everyone off who’s not interested in including you and the baby. he doesn’t have time for any of that stuff.

jiyong will want matching pjs, shoes, jewelry, hats, glasses, etc etc with the baby and you. he looks at it like family goals and thinks it’ll complete the fam.

“guess what? I learned how to make this dish! do you think he/she will like it? it has all of his/hers favorite things in it! the broccoli is what sold me.”

jiyong is obsessed with taking you and the baby to the park every chance that he gets. he’ll ask if you want to go if the weather is nice and gets the big bag ready full of snacks, drinks, and toys for the baby in case he/she gets a little bored there.

he likes to plan little trips as a family. the zoo and aquarium being at the top of the list because in his mind it’s so important to experience these types of things with the baby as a very close family. cute ):

allows you to have time to yourself since being a mom is a very tough job so he’ll take the baby and shop around for the day or hang out at the studio while he/she plays and snacks on yummy snacks.

“are you having fun with dada? I know you are.”

if you’re away at work or he’s allowing you time away for yourself like said before then he’ll send you so many selcas that he takes of him and the baby asking if you’d like this as your wallpaper.

“thank you for giving me my perfect little one.”

jiyong loves falling asleep with the baby even when he/she starts to get older he’ll take bedtime very seriously and read he/she a book while slowly falling asleep. next thing you know he’s asleep with he/she in bed and it’s the cutest thing ever!!!

long story short he’s a perfect father to your baby.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Just Ask Me

Summary: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x fe!Reader -> Hangman is used to getting what he wants, so what happens when he doesn't get you?

Disclaimer: Softer moments, Dagger Squad being a family, Hangman being taught a lesson or two though, Reader is Phoenix's best friend, Jake and Reader find common ground, getting lost in the store. Mentions of bullying and shitty friends but Jake helps out. Light swearing. Kinda a strangers/unlikely friends to lovers situation.

It was no secret Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin always got what he wanted. 

He was the best of the best in the air force, he had enough charm to fill an entire mythical city and he wasn’t too bad on the eyes, either. 

So, when you rejected him it was safe to say he didn’t know what to do. 

Of course, he’d been rejected before. But that was mostly in moments where he wasn’t actually trying. Maybe a quick ‘hey’ and a smile at a bar and there was a chance the girl would walk away. But leading you into a conversation, giving you his best smile and receiving one in return…

He’d never been rejected at that point. 

“No, thank you.”

Jake faltered for a moment. 

Nobody had ever been that polite in rejecting him, either. 

“But can I help you with anything else?”

Jake shook his head. “N-No, ma’am. Have a nice night.”

You smiled. “You, too.”

Jake kept looking back at you as he walked back to the rest of the Dagger Squad. 

“What’s the matter, Bagman? Crash and burn?” Phoenix asked. 

Jake didn’t say anything. Just walked back and sat on the edge of the pool table, his eyes still on you. Then he felt himself laugh; mostly because he was confused. 

“Yeah.”

Phoenix smiled, holding out her hand to Rooster. “Hand it over.”

Reluctantly, Rooster slapped a twenty dollar bill into her hand. “How do I keep losing to you?”

Phoenix examined the crisp bill. “Because I’m just better.”

Rooster rolled his eyes but Jake’s eyes remained on you. What had he done wrong? 

He’d seen you looking over at the Dagger Squad. You’d even looked in his direction a few times. So, after he went and got his drink, he walked over and struck up a conversation with you. You talked with him. He smiled. You smiled. It was going well. And then…no thank you. 

What had he done wrong?

Pocketing the twenty dollar bill, Phoenix reached for her jacket and handed the pool cue over to Jake. He took it, his eyes still on you. 

What had he done wrong?

“Well, this has been fun, boys, but I’ve got a go.”

Rooster turned to her, Jake finally peeling his eyes away from you. “Where?”

“Meeting a friend.”

“You have friends?” Jake asked her. 

“Funny.” 

However, as Phoenix stepped down and onto the bar floor, she didn’t turn towards the doors. Instead, she walked straight over to you. 

“What’s she doing?”

“I don’t know. Maybe thanking her.”

Jake just rolled his eyes, his entire body suddenly on high alert. But as both Jake and Rooster watched Phoenix with you, they realised rather quickly that this wasn’t your first meeting. 

Then they watched as you packed up your things, throwing your bag over your shoulder. You, and Phoenix, looked directly over at both of them and waved. 

Jake felt a shocked smirk grow on his face as he watched you and Phoenix leave, but Bradley was the first to laugh. 

“Oh, my god.” Bradley clapped him on the back. “She’s never going to let you live it down.”

“Come on, let’s just play.” Jake said as he stood up. But his eyes returned back to you as he did so, watching as you and Phoenix left the bar laughing. 

That’s what he did wrong; he went after Phoenix’s friend. 

And Rooster was right; Phoenix was never gonna let him live it down. 

Jake figured he’d never see you again. He’d never seen you before and Phoenix had never mentioned you so he could only presume you’d come in to visit her. But he did see you again. 

Four days later, just a little after eight in the evening, Jake ran into you. Quite literally. 

Turning round one of the aisles, Jake ran into a shopping cart. 

“Ooh, sorry.”

“Oh, my god. I’m so sorry.”

Looking at who had just ran into your cart, you were met with a familiar face. And he seemed to recognise you, too.

“You…”

Letting yourself relax, you smiled. “Hi, Jake.”

“You know my name?”

“You did introduce yourself and Phoenix has told me a lot about you.”

“All good, I hope?”

You shrugged. “Some stories are more entertaining than others, but…” You saw the flash of panic across his face but then you chuckled. “I’m kidding. I’m Y/n, by the way.”

Stretching over your cart, you held out your hand. He shook it. 

“Nice to finally meet you, I guess.” Jake replied. You laughed a little with a smile, averting your eyes from his for a moment. Jake’s eyes followed yours and landed inside your cart. 

“You throwing a party or something?”

It took a moment for it to click with you. “What? Oh, yeah. No, no. No party. I’m actually- I’ve just moved.”

“Here? To San Diego?”

You hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. Job transfer.”

“That sounds…”

“Stressful?” 

Jake nodded, admitting the truth. “Yeah.”

You nodded, moving your cart out of the way. “Well, it is. But everything is going well so far. Ooh, you wouldn’t know where the bedsheets are? I’ve been in here an hour already and still haven’t come across them.”

Jake nodded. “Yeah, they’re just down here. I’ll take you to them.”

So, walking beside him, he walked you across the store. 

“I feel like I’ve been put in a dryer and then put back on my feet. I have no idea where anything is in this store.”

Jake chuckled. “I felt like that. Each store had a different layout than the ones I was used to. But, you make enough late night runs for a box of pens, you tend to find your way around.”

“Figured it would have been for protein powder or something?”

Jake shrugged. “That, too.”

You felt yourself laugh a little. 

“They’re just down here.”

“Fabulous,” you almost exclaimed as you took in the rows of different materials and colours. 

“You’re probably best getting something light. The days are gonna be heating up pretty soon. It can get cooler at night but cotton is probably gonna be your best friend.”

You nodded. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Scanning the shelves, you picked out a few different ones. However, the final one remained on the top shelf. Then it fell onto its back. 

“Shit.”

“Here.” Lightly pushing the cart out of the way, Jake reached up and pulled it down before handing it to you. 

“Thanks.”

Standing in front of you, Jake smiled. “Anything else I can help with? I mean, I probably know this store like the back of my hand by now.”

Looking up and down the aisle, you made a decision. “Furniture packs?”

Walking backwards, a pleasing smile on his face, Jake extended his arm. “If you will follow me, Ma’am.”

For the next thirty minutes, Jake helped you find everything you were looking for in the store. All the while, you both talked. Swapping a few short stories on how you both came to San Diego, where the best pizza places were, and how you’d met Phoenix. 

By the end, Jake helped you pack up your groceries and walked you back to your car. 

“So she just pushed them into the pool?”

You nodded. “With as much force as she could. They never bullied me again, though. After that, we became inseparable.”

“Well, I can tell you, she hasn’t changed much.” Jake placed one of the bags into the back of your car. “I mean, probably less pool pushing. Though, she probably thought about it during training. But, still.”

You chuckled. “Doesn’t surprise me.”

Finally packing up your car and placing the cart back into the shelter, Jake quickly rounded your car and opened your door before you could reach for the handle. 

You smiled. “Thank you.”

“Here to serve, ma’am.”

You chuckled, rolling down the window as Jake shut your door. 

“Thank you, for your help.”

Leaning on your door, Jake shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”

“Guess I’ll see you round?”

Jake nodded, trying to hide his smile. “I guess so. I hope so.”

You smiled. “Goodnight, Jake.”

“Night, Y/n.”

As Jake walked back to his car, he watched as yours rolled away and headed in the opposite direction back down the street. 

Jake saw you again just a few days later when he walked into The Hard Deck. 

You and Phoenix were sitting in one of the booths at the back, talking. The rest of the Dagger Squad were dotted around the place. Some at the bar, some out at the back and some by the pool table. 

And as he walked over to the bar, his eyeline falling back on you as even just the thought of you sent something pounding in his chest, Rooster came and stood beside him. 

“Doesn’t matter how many times you try, Phoenix won’t let you.”

Jake puffed air from his chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bradshaw.”

Rooster just smirked, tracking Jake’s gaze from where it kept flicking across the room. 

“I think you do. Or else you really are as stupid as you look.”

Clapping him on the back once more, Rooster disappeared with his beer bottle towards the pool table. 

“Penny, my dear.”

Paying for his drink, Jake seemed to check himself over. 

“You look handsome.” Penny smiled as she dried a bar glass. 

Jake felt himself laugh a little. What was he doing? You were just a person. And you’d already said no. 

With a little more confidence, Jake headed towards the pool table and took up a cue with Coyote. But after two games, his confidence took a shot when Phoenix stood from the booth and you followed her. 

Both of you lent against the fence barrier and watched as they each moved around the table, taking their shots. 

And each time you were in Jake’s view, he missed his shot. 

“Getting rusty, Hangman?” Bob asked, already having noticed what effect you seemed to have on Jake. 

Glaring at Bob, Jake tried his best to focus on the shot. But there was something still stopping him. So, taking another look at you, Jake saw you looking at him. 

You raised your eyebrows a little, silently questioning him. Then you took a slow drag of your beer. 

Standing up, Jake cleared his throat and avoided the looks from the rest of his squad as he moved around the table. It took him a moment, but he finally made a successful shot. 

That continued for another two rounds until Jake found himself unable to even look at you without his stomach doing enough flips to send him dizzy. 

So, pushing Hangman aside, Phoenix took his cue and the game continued between her and Rooster. 

“How’s the move coming along?” Jake eventually managed to find his voice, though his eyes remained on his feet. 

“It’s…coming.”

Jake looked up at you. “That bad, huh?”

You shrugged. “I’m getting there. It’s just taking a little longer than I thought.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Flatpack furniture with no instructions.”

Jake folded his arms. “But it’s a side table.”

You laughed. “It’s got twenty-six pieces.”

“What?!”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Jake watched you for a moment as your attention went back to Phoenix and Rooster as he beat her. 

“Can’t be better at everything.”

Phoenix laughed. God help Rooster. 

“We’ll see.”

Leaning into Jake, you whispered. “She’s gonna kill him.”

Jake smiled. He knew that to be true. But as they broke in the next game, Jake turned back and looked at you. 

“God, you’re beautiful.” He thought to himself before another set of words left his mouth. 

“I could help you.”

“What?”

“With your furniture. I could help you.” Jake clarified. “I’ve got a couple free days coming up and I’ve got nothing else to do. I could help.”

You peeled back for a moment, your eyes flicking over every inch of his face. You smiled a little. “You’d do that?”

“I know we didn't meet under the most conventional circumstances, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help you.”

You studied Jake for a moment. 

“Okay.”

That was how a week later, Jake had turned up at your home with Phoenix in tow. Once she got wind of Jake offering to help you, she’d already given him a warning. 

“I know you like to flirt-”

“I’m not flirting.”

“But she’s my best friend. So, if you hurt her in any capacity, I will end you.”

Jake shifted in his seat. “Duly noted.”

When Phoenix let herself into your home, she called out for you. 

“Upstairs! Please tell me one of you can read Swedish!”

Looking at each other, Jake and Phoenix realised what they’d got themselves in for. 

Three hours later, the three of you were sitting on your office floor figuring out how to build your wall library. 

“How can something have this many pieces?”

“How can two fighter pilots with engineering degrees not know how to build a library?”

Jake sat with the instructions in between his legs, reading back over the pictures. 

“Wait. I think I’ve got it.”

Phoenix sighed before pushing herself up to stand. “Well, while you get a handle on that, I’m gonna order food.”

As she left the room, going into your kitchen to find the menu, you stayed with Jake. 

In the time Phoenix was gone, you and Jake sat feet to feet across from each other and had built the first half of one bookcase. 

“Will it stay?”

Silently both you and Jake prayed that it would hold as you both let go at the same time. Risking it, he shook it a little. But it remained intact. 

“Yes!”

High fiving, you both continued to build the rest. 

“Alright, food’s ordered. I’m gonna pick it up. Are you two gonna be okay while I’m gone?”

You nodded. “We’ll be fine. Ooh, Nat, make sure they give me extra dip this time. They forgot it last time.”

Phoenix took her orders and left. 

“Do you really have enough books to fill this thing?” Jake asked as he fastened some of the screws down. 

“Yep. Is that sad?”

Jake shook his head, which surprised you. Even before you’d met him, the way Phoenix had talked about him made him sound like the only book he’d ever read in his life had probably been in an English class in highschool. Even then, you doubted he’d have actually read it. 

“No, not at all. I think it’s pretty cool.” 

“Do you like to read?”

Jake looked up at you, a light expression on his face. “You sound surprised?”

“Wha- no. No, not surprised. Just…” You tried to search for a word to use. 

“Relax, it’s okay. I get it. I don’t seem like the type who reads.”

“But you are.”

Jake agreed, starting on the second bookcase with your help. 

“Loved reading since I was a kid. Obviously, I preferred books with planes in ‘em but…it was an escape. A world where I didn’t have to sit in class and be given the future profession of office worker.”

You smiled, finding joy in listening to him. There was passion in his voice as he told you about his childhood books. You even found you’d read some of the same ones. 

“I don’t get much time to read now. Mostly, it’s just textbooks.”

“You’re welcome to borrow one, anytime. God knows I have more than I know what to do with.”

Jake smiled, graciously. “Thanks. And, I promise, if I ever borrow one, it will be returned in the condition I found it.”

“Ah, a true book lover.”

Sharing a pleased look, you and Jake stood and started to shift the book cases around the room. And you tried not to get too distracted at the fact he could pick one up on its own. 

Granted, they were light. But you had tried and the best you, or anyone that wasn’t militarily fit, could do was shuffle it along the carpet in increments. 

With Jake holding the ladder steady, you drilled the hook into the wall before he lifted the bookcase back up and you secured it in place. 

By the time you reached the third one, Natasha had opened your front door again. “Got the food! I’ll set it up in the kitchen!”

Hooking it into place, you admired the finished product before carefully walking back down the ladder. 

“You okay?”

“Yep.”

Both of you stood back and admired the empty cases. 

“Just need the shelves.”

“And the books.”

You smiled. “And the books.”

However, it was downstairs where Jake came to learn of how many books you actually owned. 

Midway through eating pizza, you opened up the walk in pantry door and pulled out a cardboard box. 

“Let me help.” Natasha told you, but with strain in your voice you declined. 

“I’ve got it.”

It landed on the counter with a thud. Opening up the folded lid, you were all greeted with the smell of books. 

What followed was another two hours of mapping out shelves and organising books into alphabetical order. Something Jake seemed to do pretty quickly. 

“Not just a pretty face.”

Thanking them a thousand times over for their help, you watched as they drove back to base and you were left to tidy what you could. 

However, the next day you found yourself with a surprise visitor. 

You were midway through rearranging the furniture in your living room when someone knocked on your door. Opening it, you found Jake stood on the other side. 

“Hey.”

“Hey, sorry. I know I should have called-”

“It’s no problem. What’s up?”

Jake looked at his hands nervously. He was holding a box of lightbulbs. 

“I had some extra in my garage and thought you might wanna use ‘em. They’re only collecting dust and it would save you a trip to the store so-”

You smiled. “If you know how to fit them, I’ll happily accept them.”

“Really?”

You nodded. “I would fit them myself but if my family finds out I went near a light socket, I think they might actually send me to my grave.”

Jake laughed, “Why?”

Inviting him in, you closed the door behind him as you explained the story. 

“It happened when I was 12. I was helping my dad change a couple of the lightbulbs in the house and I'd seen him do it enough times that he trusted me to do it myself. Only, each time I did, I kept getting electrocuted.”

“No.”

You nodded. “You’d think it’d be a fluke. Faulty wiring or something. But, dad tried – he did nothing different. But it worked. I touched a bulb and it blew up. I tried again when I was 17 and it happened again. At college, me and my roommates tried. All worked for them and blew up for me.”

“It’s a good job I know how to change a lightbulb then.”

As Jake got to work doing that, you went back to rearranging your living room. However, when he returned, he stood in the hallway for a moment. 

The sofa was at a diagonal in the middle of the living room. The side tables were at opposite ends, and you seemed a little lost. 

“Do I want it to be cosy, or more open?” You asked, out loud. “Open means there’s more airflow, but it also means I’m left with this massive empty space.”

“Why not try it both ways? If you don’t like it, switch it back.”

With his help, you did it both ways. And neither worked. 

And there weren't many ways left for you to arrange your living room. So, you flipped a coin. 

Open it was. 

Finally moving everything back into its place, you and Jake collapsed on the sofa. 

“Who knew moving could be so stressful?”

“More stressful than piloting a plane going a thousand miles an hour?” You asked. 

Jack nodded. “Okay, you’ve got a point. Hey, when do you start your new job?”

“Technically, I already have. I work from home three days a week. Because of the move, I don’t actually have to go into the building until next Wednesday.”

Jake looked at you. “Wanna do something that isn’t rearranging furniture?”

“Yes.”

Standing up, he held his hand out to you. “It requires standing?”

He chuckled. “I’m afraid so. Come on.”

“Ugh, fine.”

Taking his hand in yours, you did your best to ignore the butterflies you felt float along your stomach. But standing almost chest to chest with Jake Seresin made those butterflies go from floating and fluttering their wings to an entire tornado being created. 

“Grab your jacket. Meet me on the porch?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Two minutes later you locked your front door and walked with Jake to his car. Once more, he beat you to your door and opened it up before he closed it for you and walked around to the driver’s seat. 

Twenty minutes passed before he was pulling up outside the Hard Deck. 

“I don’t think it’s open.”

Jake hopped out of the car, as did you. “It’s not.”

“Then why are we here?”

“You’ll see. Follow me.”

Walking up to the door, it opened up and you both walked inside. Anytime you’d been at The Hard Deck, it had been packed to the walls. But at that moment, it was empty. 

“Penny?”

Walking backwards out of a swinging door, Penny came through carrying a heavy box. “Oh, good. You’re here.”

Without warning, she dropped the box into Jake’s arms. Getting a steady grip, he hoisted it a little higher. 

“I’m picking Amelia up from school. They’re hosting an emergency PTA meeting so I might be back late.”

Jake shook his head. “No worries. We can keep the bar going til you get back.”

Penny smiled. “Thank you.”

As Penny grabbed her jacket and left, Jake said nothing but saw the look you gave him. 

“You’ve wrangled me into work?”

Jake shrugged, a shit-eating grin on his face that he was struggling to hide. “Maybe.”

You chuckled and followed him outside to the back deck. “There’s no ‘maybe’ about it.”

Jake shrugged again as he looked out to the sandy beach and the slow beating waves. “Can’t deny it’s a slightly better view, though.”

You looked out at it. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Sitting down on one of the picnic benches, you sat across from Jake whilst he pulled things from the crate. Napkin holders, sauce bottles and salt and pepper shakers. 

And for the next hour, you both sat in the cooling sun filling each one of them. 

“So how long have you been helping Penny?”

“A while now,” he told you. “It started out as an after-work detention.”

You felt a small laugh rise up. He was a grown man being given detention. 

“Oh, no. What did you do?”

“I left my wingman behind. Mav couldn’t get through to me, so he sent me to Penny.”

“And did she?”

Jake nodded. “Yeah. Well, her and Amelia did. Penny told me more about what happened between Mav and Goose.”

“Rooster’s dad?”

Jake nodded. “They flew together but died after an emergency went wrong. Mav was torn up for months. He’s better now, obviously, but…it stays with him. Then Penny made a point to me; I’ve never lost a wingman. I’ve left plenty behind, but I’ve never lost one.”

You screwed the cap onto the salt and pepper before taking another two and filling them. 

“And then the first full day I spent here – before I’d just spent afternoons or late nights. But it was my first full day. Penny got called away to the docks after she dropped Amelia off at the mall; she was meeting friends for her birthday.”

Pushing some more napkins into the holder, Jake packed it back into the crate and moved onto the next.

“Only, an hour later, Amelia came through the front doors with tears streaming down her face.”

Slowing down with the refilling so you could spend longer with Jake, you continued listening to his story. 

“Her friends had ditched her. One of the other girls had turned up and basically took over everything and made sure to leave Amelia out of it. She didn’t want to call her mom and she knew she’d be busy, so she came to the bar.”

The image of Amelia wiping her tears away as quickly as they fell would probably never leave him. Anytime he’d met Amelia she’d been happy – and she’d been practically bursting with fireworks when her mom agreed to let her go to the mall with her friends. 

“That was when things started to change for me.” Jake told you. “Seeing Amelia the way she was. She’d been left behind on her birthday, of all days. And not one of her friends called her.”

“They didn’t know she’d gone?”

Jake shook his head. “She tried to find them. She searched the whole mall until one of the security guards stopped her. ‘Told her he’d seen a group of them leave ten minutes before.”

“No!”

“I knew it wasn’t the same; losing someone in the air and being left alone on your birthday. But it made me realise something. I was like her friends. If something had happened to my wingman…I wouldn’t have known. It makes me feel bad, the fact it took Amelia being left alone on her birthday for Mav’s message to get through to me, but it worked. Haven’t left my wingman since.”

You smiled a little as you looked at him. “So what did you do when Amelia came back?”

“Well, she sat at the bar top doing her homework for an hour before I managed to get it out of her why she was back early. Then we made a day of it; I made her favourite foods and taught her how to make a cocktail. Penny would never let her behind the bar but after the day she’d had, how could I say no?”

“I’m guessing Penny doesn’t know about this?”

“She knows about it now. Amelia had to make a science project and her mixology seemed a little too advanced for someone who’d never been allowed behind a bar.” 

“And you agreed to make a cocktail?”

Jake hesitated for a moment. “Well, it was a mocktail. I might be a rule breaker, but I am responsible.”

Once you’d both finished restocking, you went back inside with Jake and placed one of each thing onto the tables, whilst he carried the crate beside you. 

“You said this job was after-work detention. Is it still?”

Jake chuckled, lightly, and shook his head. “No. That ended a while back, but I asked Penny if I could stay on. I help out every now and then. Fills my day when I’ve got nothing to do and,” Jake looked around. “I don’t know. There’s something nice about seeing this place calm. Penny’s put a lot into this place and we all respect it.”

Watching Jake admire the place around him, you smiled. His gaze finally landed back on yours and his expression softened as he looked at you. 

You moved onto the next table, and the next, and the next, in quiet silence. 

But as you reached a familiar booth, Jake felt the memory rush back to him. But as you scooted across the seat to place the menus and items together, a question left Jake’s lips before he could fully stop himself. 

“Did you know who I was when we first met?”

You looked back at him a little confused. “What?”

Jake looked around a little just to simply move his feet. Why had he asked? Fuck it. He’d already asked. 

“The day I hit on you. Well, tried. Did you already know who I was? From Phoenix?”

You relaxed a little, realising what he was talking about. “I didn’t know your face, but…yeah. I’d heard stories from Phoenix. She also warned me that if one of you were going to hit on me, it would have been you.”

“Is that why you said no?”

You tilted your head a little. You’d gotten to know Jake over the last two weeks and something told you he wasn’t asking because he was trying to heal his ego. 

“Why do you want to know? Truthfully?”

Being under your comforting gaze in that moment made Jake feel heat rise directly from his feet. 

Taking a deep breath, he told you why. 

“Because I want to know if you said ‘no, thank you’ because of me, or because Phoenix warned you away.”

For a moment, you smiled and Jake didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t mocking, or amusement. 

Scooting out of the booth, you stood in front of him. 

“Jake, I said ‘no, thank you’ because you did what every dude in a bar does. They walk up, no matter how nice their smile is, and expect that after a conversation I’ll give them my number. If Phoenix had wanted to warn me, she would have shown me your picture. If a guy wants to go on a date with me, he should just ask.”

Jake stood there for a moment a little dumbfounded. So, if that night he’d just walked up to you and asked you on a date, you would have said yes? If he’d asked you in the supermarket, you would have said yes? 

Did you still want to-

“She’s telling you to ask her out, idiot.”

Whipping his head to the side, Jake found Amelia at the bar unpacking her school bag. Jake’s eyes flicked over to you for a moment. You were looking at Amelia with a thankful smile before turning back to look at him. 

After nearly giving himself whiplash a couple of times, Jake’s gaze finally landed back on you, a light smirk on his face. 

“Y/n.”

“Yes, Jake?”

“Would you like to get dinner with me tonight?”

“As in a date?”

Jake nodded, and you smiled. 

“I’d love to.”

[anomaliex]

fabian and fig not ever having died is SO interesting to me, like i was relistening to the early episodes (crazy sentence since i’ve been a fan since 2020) and his desire to protect is such an interesting trait bc yes both he and fig have it, bc i think they both have that protective instinct + genuine desire to do so, but also the way fabian was raised to be ‘the man’ and part of that is being strong enough to defend not only your self but your family. like the thing where he chooses to save his mama in the end of s1 despite definitely would of rather having bill survive, and bill says i would have slit you in half if you saved me over her. this is all to say id love to hear if u have any more thoughts on fabian’s feelings

YEAH YEAH YEAH YOURE SO RIGHT!! I think there is a point in time where Fabian feels genuinely helpless and useless because he lets people get hurt and can't undo it. Or I guess that's not what I think, thats just canon. (I just finished answering this ask and I yapped a lot even though what I was actually trying to say is so straightforward. My bad lmao.)

It starts in freshman year. Younger Fabian thinks he is the most skilled and important kid in the world and then he gets that rug pulled from under him. I know he was adventuring with his father a little before but his first real own fight ends with two of his new friends dead. That sucked. He was arguably the most dejected afterwards? Like yeah Gorgug was having a rough time but Gorgug was having a rough time the whole day, Fabian went from such a high to such a low. He absolutely did not think he'd care that much going in, but then, be was under the impression that he's so strong and capable; if he's so strong then why did his allies die? Doesn't that prove his weakness? Some scrawny kid arguably showed more bravery than him by jumping right into a monster, and the bravest Fabian felt was probably when he managed to help Riz after that went south.

He absolutely was raised to "be a man" and more importantly a leader, but before that day Fabian wasn't ever actually responsible for anyone's safety — not even his own, because he grew up both coddled and socially isolated. The first time Fabian feels responsibility for the well being of others (which he has to take, because he is Fabian Aramais Seacaster and he's obviously in charge, right?) he realises how fucking heavy it weighs on his shoulders.

Later they have some fuck ups with Adaine and Kristen and get whooped into shape by his father and Fabian gets it into his head that yeah, he (and Gorgug) are the front liners. They're the protectors. He's strong and capable (and still so much better than most other people) and he's going to protect his friends (that he cares about so so so much even if he's at a point where he can't openly admit it) and nothing bad is going to happen and after defeating Kalvaxus it maybe seems like that's true and then BAM sophomore year. Two of his friends go missing. Fig ends up kind of fine "just" possessed but Riz is decidedly NOT fine and he had to fight a creepy mirror Riz not-clone and there is a moment where he thinks his best friend (who he, at this point refuses to openly call his best friend because he's a shitty insecure teenage boy) is fucking dead. I think Fabian had not yet considered how he'd feel if any of his friends died (again) before that, of course he didn't that's a crazy thing to think about. He'd managed to brush off the corn monster dilemma because that was their first fight and they were just inexperienced but it's never gonna happen again, but it does. His father also also died when he wasn't there — does this mean something? Do people die when he's not making sure to watch them? How can he keep everyone he cares about safe when he is just one man and all his hands know how to do is to slay one monster after the other in hopes they never reach his loved ones.

It's probably fine, he thinks, until it's not. Chungle Down Bim Arc. Right when he thinks he's in his element and feels good and smart and important and powerful he leads a crew of people straight to their death and comes out of it humiliated and needing to be saved and maybe he was never that strong at all.

He regains his confidence by stepping up as a protector and supporting his friends. Like yes a big part of it is just discovering that he's passionate about dancing but the bigger part is arguably putting out the fires on his party members. Fabian is so capable and worthy and helpful and he is keeping his friends from harm and he feels like himself again but also like a new man.

They enter the Nightmare King's Forest and it's his heroism spell that keeps Kristen safe. His magic born from the desire to protect. For just a moment he feels like he found himself and his battle sheet feels nice and warm under his finger tips and he feels right in his skin.

Then Kristen fucking dies.

And she doesn't just die, no, she dies in front of him when he elected to go with her and was supposed to keep her safe. He is supposed to protect his friends now and yet, and yet, he can't actually do anything. Kristen is dead and he doesn't know what happened and he doesn't know how to help and he is useless because there is nothing he can do to reach beyond death like Kristen has done to help them (mostly Gilear) oh so many times.

Then Riz and Adaine die. Everyone dies. Why do his friends keep dying and Fabian is always fine — why was he fine after the shit in Leviathan when everyone else died and he definitely should have met his demise as well? Is he strong? Is he just lucky? Is this a cruel trick of fate? Why does he, despite being stupid and reckless and putting people in danger again and again and again continue to survive when no one else does after he fails to protect them?

Fig hasn't died either, but she learns revivify and even starts creating diamonds to cast it on the spot. She's saving their friends. She's being helpful. She's using the gift of being permitted to stay alive again and again to help, and what is he doing? Nothing. He's not doing shit.

Except that's not right, because there is something he can do. There's something he did do. Because Riz was falling and slipping past his reach and he really thought he'd loose his friend but then the extension of himself that is so deeply connected to his own self discovery and acceptance reaches out and saves him. It saves Riz and embraces him so gently and brings him to Fabian so he can cradle him and swaddle him and keep him safe and the flames that are supposed to be so hot and destructive are simply just warm. It reaffirms his discovery that yes, this is good. This new him is a little softer and maybe a little less imposing but it's helpful and good, and he just has to focus on the fact that this new him knows how to protect his friends.

No longer is his version of protection just killing whatever is threatening them before it gets the chance to hurt, now it's more preventing harm. Which is so simple and obvious but it never occurred to him, and maybe it's stupid that it took him this long to learn, but all he ever knew was to be ruthless and to fight and to demand respect because that's how his father did it — but Fabian isn't his father and he's learning to be okay with that, and maybe he isn't even a leader but that doesn't mean that he does not hold the power to do what he wants.

Fabian can't do magic to revive anyone but he can and he must and he will keep them from dying in the first place in the future, and the strained muscles and calloused hands that previously sought only to fight for glory and recognition now act as a shield to keep others safe. They have to. If not that then he can't do anything else.

He regains his cocky attitude but with just a little more grace, he regains his fighting spirit but instead of being a champion (hurt fight kill) he's a battlemaster with manoeuvres that prevent foes from getting to his friends. He regains his grandiose presence, demanding attention in every space he enters, but now it serves to essentially draw aggro. Almost all of his spells are support or utility spells! Yeah that's because he is a college of swords bard and fighting wise acts like a martial but in character that means something. Fabian knows feather fall. He needs his precious spell slots to do damage and a younger Fabian with the same build would only focus on that and maybe buff himself, but this Fabian will always cast feather fall. He will never watch one of his friends almost slip through his fingers again.

That's not to say that he isn't still stupid, or occasionally reckless, or stops throwing himself into battle without thinking it through. But his priorities have shifted and his way of thinking has too and he can never ever allow anyone to fall while he's still standing. And maybe he didn't even change that much, maybe he just got more Fabian, less Bill. Because it was already a Freshman Year Fabian that took the sentinel feat (which in universe would translate to him purposely learning how to slow down opponents), no one else.

[stars-remain2]

Find the word

How it works: I search for the words previously assigned to me in my latest WIP and then choose four words for you to search for in your WIP.

Thank you @joeyalohadream for tagging me! This was the first time anyone has ever tagged me into one of these and I just feel so honored. Plus getting to read more snippets from “Let your heart be light” just made my lil heart SO happy. Your writing lights up my life, truly! 🎄💕

My words: heat, step, heavy, light all from my upcoming fic “Lucky” for MoTA’s 1st Birthday Bingo. @mota-collab

Heat (I don’t have heat but I do have hot. Close enough. 😉)

Gale’s first mission back after his catastrophic injury will be a repeat of the same mission that nearly killed him: Bremen.

Gale isn’t superstitious, but John’s lucky deuce certainly didn’t do the trick last time. With John in London, he wants to take something of John’s up with him and it’s not like he can take his picture. That might get the guys talking and he doesn’t want a blue ticket home. They’ve been able to keep things discreet the last few months and they have to keep it that way.

At breakfast the morning of the mission, Gale is very intentional about spilling milk all over his dark brown bomber jacket. He jumps up from the table and tells the boys he will meet back up with them after he gets changed.

He heads back to the hut he shares with John and some of the other officers. Luckily everyone is on leave or at breakfast so the hut is empty when he arrives. He goes straight for John’s foot locker, opening it with care, knowing he will find what he’s looking for.

There on top of the locker is John’s sheepskin jacket. He’d stopped wearing it as often because Gale “hates” it so much.

Though John is slightly broader than Gale, something Gale has always found rather comforting (okay, hot), it still fits. Gale looks at himself in the mirror and feels satisfied with his new look. This was the perfect solution to taking a piece of John up with him. And better yet, John would never know. He’d have it hidden back in his foot locker before he ever got back from London.

Step

He’s brought up to an open train car where a group of men are being herded and thrust inside. He can only hope that this train is taking all of them to a Stalag and not to an immediate death. After some difficulty with his ribs, he climbs into the car and tries to find a spot along a back wall, out of the way. He needs to be able to brace his ribs and the middle of the car will not afford him that luxury.

“Buck!”

He thinks he hears his name but that can’t be possible.

“Buck! Is that you?”

He turns his head, seeking out the voice. He can’t help but smile when he sees the familiar face of Benny DeMarco headed straight toward him.

“Major, it sure is good to see you,” Benny says as they clasp hands and hug.

Benny’s brows furrow then. “But are you ok? You look pretty roughed up. Your face…was it the landing or did they hurt you, Major?”

Gale doesn’t want to discuss this at all but certainly not with an audience. He ducks his head and brings his voice down, “Ah, we can talk later Benny, ok?”

Benny knows Gale well and takes the hint. Gale hates any kind of attention. But Benny isn’t going to let this go once they get to where they are going. He can tell from the way the Major is holding himself that he is injured. Plus Bucky would kill him if he let anything happen to Buck.

The train soon delivers them to their new home at Stalag Luft III.

As they walk through the gate, Gale’s steps falter and Benny has to steady him. Gale says, “I’m fine, I’m fine,” but he’s gone three shades more pale.

Benny takes one of Gale’s arms and puts it around his shoulders.

“Let me help. That’s what co-pilots are for.”

Gale can’t argue. His strength is flagging.

Heavy

The problems for “Our Baby” that started on the tarmac continue in the air with the ball turret before they reach Bremen. Gale continues to do what he does best, he rallies his crew, encourages them to hold fast and remain alert as they approach the target.

The flak is heavy around them.

They all want this so bad they can taste it.

Then it all goes to hell.

Once over the target, their plane is hit by three fighters at 10:00 high, out of the sun. The damage is significant and takes out the No. 2 engine. Gale and Benny refuse to panic, they simply shut it down and continue with the mission.

Smoke pours from their plane making them an easy target. The Luftwaffe keep coming. Control cables are the next to go, completely severed. The smell of electricity fills the air and smoke filters throughout the cabin and fuselage.

Gale remains unshaken. This is what he’s trained for. He’s been beaten up his whole life. As a child, he didn’t expect this kind of treatment from people who were supposed to love him and yet he ended up bloodied and bruised. He expects this kind of treatment from the Germans.

A section of the left wing is blown off and shells rip through the nose of the plane. The death knell is beginning to ring but he refuses to hear it. He can’t afford to stop and listen. He’s got to try to get his crew to a place where they will have a fighting chance.

He comes on the radio then, “We are gonna try to make it to the Dutch border, boys. That means we gotta dump all of our gear not bolted down in order to lighten our load. Shoot the bomb sight and dump it too.”

He quickly stops transmitting because it’s all he can do to hold on to this bird. It’s pulling both he and Benny for all they are worth. He doesn’t want his crew to hear the strain in his voice.

He closes his eyes for a brief second, picturing Bucky’s face. He can do this. He can hold on. For Bucky.

Then he feels the plane shudder with another hit.

And another.

Engine No. 1 shuts down.

The blankets under Benny’s seat catch fire.

Engine No. 3 shuts down.

Then No. 4.

“No Engine Cleven” won’t be making a miracle landing today.

He allows himself one moment of terror. Then he leans his face down and brushes the part of his cheek not covered by the mask against the collar of Bucky’s jacket. The fuzzy texture against his skin grounds him once again and it allows him to regain his composure. He flips the switch which will change the course of the war for all of them.

“Bail out. Pilot to crew, I repeat, bail out.”

He sends Benny ahead of him and suddenly he’s the last one remaining on board. The proverbial captain going down with his ship. It’s always been like this, Gale against the world. But for the first time in his life, he’s got someone to live for. He pulls Bucky’s jacket tighter around him and whispers, “I love you Johnny.”

Then he jumps.

Light

With no money for college and a terrible reputation in his hometown of Casper, Wyoming because of his father’s gambling debts, Gale decides that entering the military is his best, scratch that - only - option. He then ships off to boot camp, simply trading one war for another.

The moment John “Bucky” Egan lays eyes on Gale Cleven, two things happen at the exact same time. He knows he is dealing with a wounded animal and he knows that this man is his destiny. He can tell that Gale will be a tough nut to crack, but he is certain that beneath that facade is the most beautiful soul he’s ever seen.

Gale’s walls are built high but Bucky has a plan to start chipping away at them. He is used to getting what he wants. Bucky then does what any normal human being would do. He gives Gale his name. He starts with his nickname since it wasn’t exactly legal for him to give him his last name. Yet.

“You look just like a buddy of mine from back home in Manitowoc. His name is Buck.”

With a hand on his chin and a serious expression on his face, Bucky studies Gale. It gives him the perfect excuse to look for a few extra seconds. Nodding and looking proud of himself, Bucky breaks out into the biggest smile, which lights up his entire face.

Gale finds it impossible to resist, feeling himself beginning to smile too.

“Yep, I think I’ll call ya Buck, Buck.”

Bucky slings an arm around Gale’s shoulders as they begin walking toward their barracks. Gale looks at him like he is crazy but there is an air of lightheartedness finally beginning to settle into the formerly rigid planes of his face. He’s made Gale Cleven smile. Bucky’s heart feels like it is going to explode and he knows right then and there that he will do anything to make Gale smile again.

Bucky isn’t sure if he is having heart palpations or if he is just falling in love.

One small problem though. Buck from Manitowoc doesn’t exist. Buck Cleven doesn’t need to know that though. That’s right, it is one big ole lie.

While it is the first time Bucky lies to Gale’s face, it won’t be the last.

Bonus Light

John thinks to himself that he has never seen a human being more pale and still alive. He rides with Gale in the ambulance transport to the hospital on base, not allowing an argument as to whether he belongs there or not. He holds Gale’s hand, which is ice cold. Gale is shaking now, his body going into shock from the injury and blood loss. John quickly rips off his sheepskin jacket and drapes it over Gale. He knows Gale hates this jacket but he’ll do anything to help keep him warm.

A medic places an oxygen mask over Gale’s face but he’s still struggling to breathe. He coughs and it’s a terrible barking sound. Blood splatters all over the inside of the mask, creating a ghastly combination of colors, the red blood and Gale’s blue lips.

John can’t look away.

Gale’s eyes flutter open then, searching. Searching for John. They are frantic, darting back and forth. John can tell he wants to speak so badly but his grievous injury won’t allow him the breath to do so. John starts brushing back Gale’s hair again, “I’m here, I’m not leaving you. You aren’t alone. Please fight Buck.”

The medic is too busy tending to Buck to pay attention to what’s being said between the two men and Bucky knows he’s got to give Gale something to fight for. Someone to fight for. He knows he can’t say it out loud so he moves in closer to Gale’s face. He then moves his mouth slowly without saying the words out loud and prays he’s not too late for Gale to see.

“I. Love. You.”

He can see the moment the light leaves Gale’s eyes. His chest stops heaving. He’s not breathing anymore.

John feels like he’s not breathing either.

John starts screaming, “He’s not breathing! You’ve got to help him! My God, SOMEONE HELP HIM!”

They’ve reached the hospital. The medical staff tear John away then, ripping Gale and John’s hands apart as they rush Gale into a treatment bay. His last glimpse of Gale is of someone jumping on top of his chest, doing chest compressions, John’s sheepskin jacket tossed in a heap on the floor.

John is left standing there, drenched in Gale’s blood, shivering without his jacket and wondering if he’s about to lose the love of his life. The love of his life who died not knowing he’s the love of his life. He’d been too late. 

He falls to his knees and allows the tears to finally come.


**Authors Note - I don’t do Major Character Deaths in my fics so have no fear. You can read this fic on Sunday on AO3. I will also be posting here on Tumblr. ❤️**

No pressure tagging @hogans-heroes @trekkiehood @onyxsboxes @blixabargelds

Your words are: touch, eyes, fight, walk

[lyraa-kill]

Sick and Twisted Bastard

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 l Chapter 5

Tags: Stalker Simon "Ghost" Riley, Trans John “Soap" MacTavish, Top Simon "Ghost" Riley, Bottom John "Soap" MacTavish, Dom Simon “Ghost" Riley, Sub John "Soap" MacTavish, Stalking, Consensual Non-Consent, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Masturbation, Vaginal Fingering, johnny can't make himself cum, Kidnapping, Knives, John is okay with Simon's stalking, John is a little freak too, Voyeurism, Hidden Cameras, Bondage, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Spanking, Painplay, Internalized Transphobia, Self-Harm, Murder, They really match each others freak, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, Biting, pussy slapping, Face Slapping, Blood, Choking

——

Johnny has been living with Simon for two weeks now, meaning the end of their combined three week leave is up. He tries not to think about it, but he can’t help but wonder what will happen. Is this whole thing temporary, will he be forced to go back on base and resume his job? He hopes not.

He’s proud of being Sergeant MacTavish. He fought tooth and nail to get out of his home and become the man he knew he should be, and made a damn good name for himself too. But it wasn’t him. He never wanted any of that, he only did it because he had no other options. He was forced to be someone he knew he wasn’t all over again. Sure, it was better because at least this time he was a man, but it still wasn’t him.

He knows what he wants now. He wants to be Johnny. He wants to have a small, quiet little cabin with Simon and spend his days doing what he chooses, not what he’s being commanded by a superior to do.

Now, his head lays on Simon’s lap as they cuddle on the couch, a movie playing on the TV. They’ve been doing a lot of that. Laying around, watching something. Occasionally taking breaks to eat or fuck. Johnny’s happy at finally being relaxed, but it’s getting quite boring.

He shifts his head to look up at Simon. “Can I ask you something?”

Simon runs his hands through Johnny’s Mohawk. “What is it baby?”

“We’re due to go back to base soon. What’s gonna happen when we don’t show up?”

Simon smiles down at him. “Don’t worry about it. No one will bother us to come back.”

“But-“ Johnny gets interrupted.

“I took care of it, Johnny.” Simon leans down and gives him a peck on the forehead. “No one will bother us. Just be good for me and don’t worry about it, yeah?”

Simon’s a bit nervous for when he eventually has to tell Johnny what he did. The man has always tried to minimize civilian casualties. He’s a protector of the innocent, and Simon had to kill and dismember two very innocent people to fake their deaths.

It was hard to find two people similar enough to their body shapes to kill. Even then, Simon had to behead them and cut off any body parts that would be a tell-sign that the bodies weren’t really them. He had to hack up the rest, leave their IDs at the scene and whatnot. He thinks he faked it pretty well, if he has to be honest. He’s seen his fair share of murder scenes in the past and tried to replicate it as best as he could, for both their sakes. Him and Johnny both would have either drowned in their own misery or been killed in combat if they stayed.

“Alright,” Johnny sighs, turning back over to look at the TV, “I trust you.”

Simon smiles and kisses Johnny’s hair. As he looks down at his perfect boy, he knows he doesn’t regret a thing he did. He can already see how they both are healing, becoming more themselves than they thought possible. Simon is less angry, less closed-off, finds himself wanting to be alone less and less. He discovered that he loves to laugh. He loves to be held and cuddled and treated softly and gently. He never knew that about himself, because no one had ever done it before. Now that he’s had a taste of it, he’s not sure how he ever lived without it.

That monster and creature, the Ghost, he had been forced to be is fading. It’s no longer clawing at his insides to escape; it’s asleep and quiet. Maybe the claw marks it left will always be there, but eventually it’ll be gone for good. All thanks to Johnny.

Johnny no longer cries every night. He did for a little bit, but Simon was there to help him through it. The scars on his legs are healing and fading away, no new ones have been added. Though, that’s because Simon locked away any sharp objects so Johnny couldn’t get to them. The only one that will be leaving marks on him is Simon.

They watch the TV for another half hour, both of them not really watching but focusing more on each other. Eventually, Johnny turns back around.

“I think I want to draw. Paint. I don’t know.”

Simon hums and smiles down at him. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. Always wanted to. I drew all the time when I was a kid. Got yelled at, so I hid it for a while. Couldn’t really do it while I was enlisted and whatnot. But… I’d like to now. I always really enjoyed it.”

“I can get you paper and pencils if you’d like, Johnny.”

Johnny nods. “I like writing too. I used to keep a journal on me before my dad found out about it and burnt it. I wanna do it again.”

“I can buy you a notebook too.”

Johnny nuzzles his face into Simon’s stomach. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course. I want you to be happy, baby. And if that will make you happy, then I’ll gladly do it for you.”

Johnny smiles as he looks up at Simon. “What about you? What do you like?”

Simon cocks his head. “What do you mean?” The only thing he can remember ever being passionate about or wanting is Johnny. In fact, the only thing he can remember remotely liking is him.

“Is there anything you wanna do? Hobbies? Activities?”

“I think my favorite activity is you, love,” Simon teases, kissing Johnny’s forehead and making noises like he’s pretending to eat him.

Johnny laughs, pushes Simon away, then says, “I know that very well by now you insatiable fuck. But… I want you to be your own person too. I want you to be someone outside of me. I want… I want you to be Simon and me be Johnny, and be our own people while also being in love with each other.” Johnny cups Simon’s face. That perfect, devastatingly handsome face. “I wanna know Simon. I wanna know what you’re interested in, what makes you laugh, what your feelings are, what your thoughts are. I wanna know you. Not Ghost. Not whatever you’ve been told you should be.”

Simon tears up a little bit, but manages to hold him back. “I want that too,” he says, “just as long as Johnny can belong to Simon.”

“Of course,” Johnny says back, “As long as Simon can belong to Johnny too.”

Simon smiles and kisses Johnny, on the lips this time. “Of course.”

They lay there and kiss for a while, eventually Johnny finding his way into Simon’s lap so he doesn’t have to keep bending over. The kisses don’t feel sexual, like they’re going to lead to something else. They only say “I love you. I love you so much and I want to know you and be with you”.

Simon breaks the kiss apart. “I’m… I’m honestly not sure what I’m passionate about. I never had a hobby or interests growing up- I think. I can’t remember my childhood. It got tortured out of me along with most of my humanity. And afterwards, I was Ghost. The military didn’t need a guy that wanted to be a person and pursue what interested him, they needed a weapon. So that’s what I was. I don’t know how to be anything else.”

“Yes you do,” Johnny says lightly, his face mere centimeters from Simon’s.

Simon furrows his brows in confusion.

“You do know how to be something else other than Ghost. I’ve seen it. You love making stupid fucking dad jokes about the army. Every Tuesday at 5pm you find time to sit in the common area and watch that show you like. I always catch you whittling at pieces of wood when we’re camped out and waiting for an enemy.” Johnny strokes the side of Simon’s face. “Maybe you havent found yourself fully. But I think you will. And I think you’ve found more than you think.”

Simon softly smiles and nuzzles his face into Johnny’s hand. “Thank you.”

Johnny kisses him again, gently and passionately. Maybe it’s a bit of an oxymoron to want them to belong to each other and also be their own person, but it makes perfect sense inside their heads.

They break apart and smile into each other’s lips, laughing a little bit. Johnny peppers Simon’s face in kisses before saying “I’m so happy you love me back.”

Simon laughs and holds Johnny’s hands that are cupped over his face. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re perfect.”

Johnny kisses him one more time on his forehead before saying, “I was just scared. No one’s ever loved me before you. I would have little crushes on guys in school and they’d always reject me because they either wanted a girl or they wanted a real man. I was expecting you to react the same. I also… thought that you were out of my league a little bit.”

Simon kisses Johnny fiercely. “Never. I’ve only ever seen you for who you are, Johnny. You’re a brilliant, beautiful man. Doesn’t matter to me one bit what you got between your legs. I love you, so I’ll love whatever’s down there too.”

Simon can’t imagine a world where he doesn’t love Johnny, which makes it hard to understand Johnny’s old fears. Loving him feels as intrinsic to his being as, well… breathing. Blinking. His heart beating in his chest. He hadn’t thought of the idea of ending up with a transgender man, hell, he had only ever heard of trans women before he met the guy. But that hadn’t mattered to him. Johnny is a man, and Simon is in love with him. What parts he did or didn’t have didn’t change that fact.

Johnny’s heart skips a beat as Simon says those words. God, he’d been waiting to hear someone say that to him since he was 14 and got rejected for the first time. He’s laid awake at night dreaming about a man feeling that way towards him, until eventually he stopped dreaming and gave it a rest, declaring himself forever single.

Maybe he never really stopped dreaming.

“I love you too, Simon.” Johnny says, “And I haven’t said it yet, but by god you’re right bonnie too. When I woke up and saw you laying on me that first morning you took me here, the first thing I thought about was how gorgeous you are. You’re fucking devastating to look at.”

Simon is all smiles. He never thought he’d feel good about being called beautiful, but hearing Johnny‘s words makes his heart sing.

His face would be unappealing to most. He has a big nose with a bump in it, downturned eyes, and his lips are thin. Not to mention the scars that adorn his cheeks and chin, making him look like a mottled beast. But Johnny likes it, loves it even. Maybe he is beautiful after all. Maybe it doesn’t matter if everyone else thinks he’s ugly. Who cares if no one would want to see him on a magazine cover? Johnny loves the way he looks, and really, that’s all that matters to him.

“I remember when I first saw you on the tarmac after getting off the plane,” Simon stars, “it felt like all the tendons and fibers in my heart were attaching themselves to you. I think I made a plan that night to hack into the base’s security cameras so that I can keep an eye on you all the time. And I think a week later was when I went into your room to watch you sleep and steal your underwear.”

Johnny laughs. “You’re fucking crazy, you know that?”

Simon smiles. “Yeah. But I don’t think you mind it very much.”

“No, I really don’t.”

Simon grips onto Johnny’s hips as they start to kiss again, forcing him to grind down on him.

“Fuck-“ Simon grunts, “I can’t remember how many times I jacked off to pictures I took of you when you were in your room, the shower, on missions…”

Johnny laughs into his mouth. “I’d love to see those pictures sometime. I gotta make sure I look pretty.”

“You always look pretty.”

They go back to kissing, Johnny grinding his sore cunt down into Simon’s hardening package. He has no idea how two men in their thirties are able to fuck so many times a day, but for some reason he’s been insatiable, like his body hasn’t got the memo he’s not 16.

Simon deepens the kiss, deeply breathes in Johnny’s scent, then snaps and throws him onto the couch on his back. He climbs on top of him and covers his entire body with his own. He loves how much bigger he is than Johnny. It makes him feel like he can shield him from the entire world as long as he’s in his arms.

“Sure your cock ain’t broken yet?” Johnny teases, “You’ve gotta be shooting blanks after this morning.”

Simon growls and bites down on Johnny’s neck. “You cannot comprehend how much I need you all the fucking time. It’s not possible for me to go dry around you.”

Johnny gasps and digs his nails into Simon’s back through his shirt. “Your dick is gonna end up killing me, Si.”

“You can take it,” Simon says, “I’ll make sure you will.”

Johnny bites down on his lip as Simon starts to add more bite marks and hickeys to his neck, joining the ones left there from that morning.

“Yeah? Gonna fuck me till I can’t think?” Johnny breathes, “till I can’t walk or open my eyes? Don’t think you can.”

Hearing that, Simon wraps his hand around Johnny’s throat and squeezes, cutting off his air supply. Johnny’s hands fly to Simon’s wrist to try and take it off, but it’s a futile struggle. His legs kick, but they can’t move very much under Simon’s body.

“Not so cocky anymore, are ya Johnny?” Simon teases, his mouth curled into a wicked smile. “Can’t be such a little shit with my hand around this pretty throat of yours, huh?”

Johnny struggles to get out words as his vision starts to get a little fuzzy. Even though Simon is more than capable of killing him right now, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on in his life.

Simon releases his grip, but keeps his hand on Johnny’s throat. Johnny gasps and huffs as his face starts to return to a normal color and his vision becomes clearer. He smiles.

“Do it again, Si.”

Simon slaps Johnny across the face as his hand slowly starts to squeeze again. “Who knew my boy was so dirty? Who knew John MacTavish was a little fucking slut that likes to be smacked and choked?”

Johnny smiles as his vision starts to fog up again. He wants to say, you knew. You knew I liked this and I needed you and that’s exactly why you’ve done all this.

Simon smacks Johnny across the face one more time before he takes his hand off his neck so he can take off his pants. Honestly, he doesn’t know why he bothered to bring clothes for either of them. They just seem to get in the way.

It’d be much better if Johnny was naked and on display for him all the time, like his little trophy.

“You think a little bit of choking and smacking is gonna do me in? I don’t think so,” Johnny laughs, trying to egg Simon on so he gets harsher, “You’re gonna have to try harder than that.”

Simon grunts and rips off Johnny’s boxer briefs, which are now soaked with his slick.

“I think these pants of yours tell a different story,” Simon grins, “How ‘bout I use them to shut your lying mouth up so your other pair of lips can tell me the truth, yeah?”

Simon shoves the underwear into Johnny’s mouth, the taste of himself flooding his taste buds. Fuck. He never thought being forced to taste himself would be such a turn on for him.

Simon shoves three fingers into Johnny’s hole, making him scream through the gag and grip onto the couch. He’s still pretty relaxed and loose after that morning, but taking three of Simon’s thick fingers with no warning still made his cunt burn and ache. He’s starting to fall in love with it.

Simon jackhammers away at Johnny’s cunt, his other hand wrapped nicely around his throat. He isn’t choking, just telling Johnny that he better behave, or else he knew what was coming. Although, the promise of being choked would probably make Johnny act up just so he could get it. There really is no way to punish his boy.

Well, actually, there’s one way.

Simon keeps abusing Johnny’s poor hole, until he sees the signs of his orgasm coming up. He stops just before the moment of climax, making Johnny writhe and buck his hips to try and chase his hand.

Johnny’s eyes widen. So they’re going to play this game again? That’s fine. He can take it, no problem. Edging really isn’t that big of a deal. Or at least that’s what he tells himself so he doesn’t have to admit to himself that his defeat is imminent.

Simon laughs. “Not so cocky and bratty now that you know I’m not gonna let you cum, huh?” Simon slowly strokes Johnny’s cock, making him twitch. “I’ll make you break, boy. You’ll be a mindless begging slut here soon.”

Johnny smiles through the gag and shakes his head.

Simon tears his hand from his throat and smacks him across the face, then backhands him, then puts his hand back where it was to choke him as hard as he can. Red prints in the shape of Simon’s hands are starting to bloom on his face. Simon loves seeing his marks on his boy, although a piece of him wishes they were more permanent. He’s sure there’s something he can do to satiate that craving.

Simon shoves his fingers back in, relishing in the way Johnny’s body twitches as he starts to fight for air. He loosens his grip on Johnny’s neck and lets him breathe as he really starts to pound away at him again. He doesn’t want to hurt him, after all. Just rough him up a little bit.

Just as Johnny reaches the edge again, Simon takes away his fingers. Johnny whines through the gag as his eyes start to water. Fuck, he really hates edging.

“Aww, are you ready to stop being a fucking brat, Johnny?” Simon coos, his voice demeaning.

Johnny thinks that Simon has to be a fool to think he’ll give in that easily. He shakes his head and spits the gag out. “In your dreams, Si.”

Simon sneers and quickly pushes Johnny onto the floor, grabbing his arms and pinning them to his back.

Deep down, Johnny knows he’s going to give in. He doesn’t even really want to be a brat or a little shit, he just likes when Simon gets rough with him, and being an ass is the best way to get it. He really could just ask, as he’s sure Simon would do anything to make him happy, but that’s not nearly as fun as watching him get angrier and get more violent with him because of it.

Simon spanks Johnny with as much force as he can give, which is a metric fuck ton. Johnny gasps and his back arches from the pain. Fuck. That felt like it’s going to bruise his goddamn bones.

“I know you want my cock. And you’re not gonna get it until you start apologizing and begging.” Simon spreads Johnny’s legs apart and cups his cunt with his hand, then smacks him as hard as he can.

Johnny yelps and releases noises he has no control over as Simon lays down more smacks to his throbbing pussy. His body is twitching and turning in ways he couldn’t stop if he tried, involuntarily trying to get away from the pain unleashed on his most sensitive area.

When Simon relents, Johnny is a twitchy mess with drool pouring out of his mouth. But he’s not completely mindless yet.

Simon shoves four fingers in, stretching Johnny as wide as he’s ever been. His cunt is gushing around the digits, trying to suck them in and keep them there so he can cum. As Simon fucks him with just one hand, the other raining down smacks to his ass before gripping onto his hair to pull his head back, Johnny’s tongue lolls out of his mouth and his eyes roll back into his head.

“Dirty fucking bitch,” Simon grunts, “should tie you up with a nice dildo and vibrator and leave you there for a few hours. That’ll teach you not to be a fucking brat.”

Johnny shakes his head and pushes his ass into the air.

“Want- want you Simon, please,” he says.

“Is that begging, Johnny?” Simon asks, taking his fingers out just before Johnny can cum, “Are you gonna be my good boy, then?”

Johnny nods. “Y-yes, good boy- good boy just f’you, fuuuuck.”

Simon smiles as he lovingly caresses down Johnny’s sides, admiring his bright red ass and dripping cunt.

“I know you are. You’re always my good boy,” Simon says, leaning down to kiss Johnny’s shoulder blade, “You just like when I get rough with you, yeah? Think you gotta be a brat to get it?”

“Mhm,” Johnny hums, incapable of speech.

Simon laughs. “I know, baby. I know you better than you know yourself.”

Johnny nods again, because he knows that fact is unquestionably true.

“You’ll get what you want. Gotta make my boy happy, afterall.”

Simon grabs his cock and lines it up with Johnny’s hole, and pushes it in with no resistance. He’s buried to the hilt in a matter of seconds, his fingers having done a good job to loosen his boy up.

Johnny whines as he’s filled up again, a dumb smile appearing on his face. Simon grabs his arms and pins them to his back again, his other hand grabbing Johnny’s hair and tugging his head back.

He starts to fuck into him, not bothering to be gentle at first. His boy can take any abuse Simon puts him through.

Johnny sees stars and the light of heaven as Simon pounds away at him, making the burning in his core dissipate and instead replacing it with the best pleasure he’s felt in his life. He can’t think, can’t speak, can only lay there and take it, let himself be used.

This is what he’s been needing his entire life. Someone to treat him softly, take care of him, treat him like the special and fragile thing he is, but also know when he needs to be beaten and fucked within an inch of his life.

“Look so pretty like this,” Simon grunts, “I love seeing you become my little plaything, baby. Love seeing you be my good little boy.”

Johnny nods as drool continues to dribble out of his mouth and down his chin. His body tenses as he start to cum, squirting all over Simon’s legs and the floor, but Simon doesn’t let up. He continued his brutal pace, sending Johnny into the waters of overstimulation and making him even more brainless than he was before.

Johnny cums twice more before Simon finishes for the first time, but Simon is just as insatiable as him, and once is not nearly enough. He has no idea how many times he’s climaxed when Simon relents. He doesn’t even know what his own name is or where he’s at.

Simon pants heavily as he pulls out of Johnny’s sopping cunt. He watches as his cum leaks out of his hole and mixes with the literal puddle of Johnny’s cum spread over the floor.

He smiles as he admires the way Johnny lays there, boneless and nearly passed out. A state of being that only Simon can put him in.

He has absolutely no regrets over anything he’s ever done, because all of that has brought him here, admiring his fucked out boy that makes him happier than anything else on the planet ever could.

[sly-s-n0nfusion]

Sly's personal ✨Octopath rankings✨

So I've been into Octopath since the year it came out as a franchise basically and I recently finished the second game so I felt like ranking both games' characters and stories based on my likings. Remember that all opinions are valid and if I didn't enjoy your favorite character or story as much as you did it's fine :) also, there aren’t characters or stories I actually disliked with two exceptions so I’m mostly being kind- but honest.

May do spoilers so I'll put them under a cut

Ot1

Stories

Olberic - His story has to be my favorite because of its impeccably functional structure and climax. I am a sucker for redemption stories and I think they nailed every chapter of it. They even made me like the arena chapter even though I'm not a fan of tournament arcs. It's a very well-executed emotional story and it had me hooked since the beginning (also loving the “plot twist” that his final chapter boss is NOT Erhardt, which is what everyone is expecting since chapter 1)

Cyrus - A compelling mystery story with some plot twist I liked and actually interesting pieces of lore in it. What I liked the most about it (if we ignore Therese's blatant deus ex machina moment in his ch3) is that you can't really tell what will happen when you go into one of his chapters. Also has probably the best ch4 with some of the rawest lines ever against Lucia

Alfyn - Loved his chapter 3 to death because of the moral ambiguity and also has one of the best side characters (Ogen). Golden boy has to doubt everything he knew in his life and I love that. Has kind of a slow start though

Ophilia - While I think ch2 could be executed much better and made less boring, the circular structure and moral of her story is amazing. The emotional ch4 almost made me tear up

H'aanit - Cute interpretation of a "pupil has to find his mentor" story and has some epic moments like chapter 3. Not much more than that but it was still really enjoyable (bonus mention for Susanna, one of the best npcs)

Primrose - Kinda compelling revenge tale, except that it ends in the most unsatisfying way possible. Has some nice ideas but I felt so empty and broken at the end of her ch4 because she too is empty and broken

Tressa - Not a fan of the "coming of age stories" but I enjoyed her rivalry with Ali and her friendship with Noa, as well as Leon's backstory. No hate, just the more lighthearted stories are not really my cup of tea. Apart from those, it found it pretty boring and probably has the most anticlimactic final boss ever

Therion - The one story I really didn't like because of... many reasons. Like, it really had potential with the whole Dragonstones thing and everything but they executed it in the worst way possible. Also I hate how they tried to make him trust people again thanks to some questionable people like Cordelia and Heathcote... it just didn't feel right and left me asking myself but why though so many times

Characters

Cyrus - I do love every high intelligence - low wisdom character, bonus of they're a dork and kind of naive. Could write a whole essay about him so just know he won my heart he’s been my blorbo for what 3 years now? Almost 4

Olberic - Another trope I love is grumpy and probably depressed characters who just have a heart of gold inside and use their strength to protect the people they love so there you have it. They did a great job of delivering the emotional baggage in his internal monologues

Ophilia - I love how her character gravitates around the concept of love, loss and family. She's so dear to me

H'aanit - I like her view of the world and her stoic personality but I must say that for a main character, her introspective side could've been explored more

Alfyn - Sunshine boy who feels too much. I do like men who are not afraid of crying in front of others

Therion - a bit of a lone wolf stereotype- but I like his dry and sarcastic attitude when he talks to the other members of the party

Tressa - I like that she's a bit hot-headed and I like her enthusiasm. Definitely a character who shines more when she's with other characters though

Primrose - I think they messed up a bit with her characterization sadly because I can't really tell how the real Primrose is supposed to be even after ch4. She's often portrayed as an overly-flirty femme fatale even though it's probably trauma response and often says some... questionable things to the other members of the party in her travel banters, it's hard to get her true personality right. When she's angry, she kinda comes off as cold and distant, too. I think the writers could've done a better job with her

Ot2

Stories

Castti - Hands down the best Octopath Traveler main story ever imo. It was perfect from how the emotions were delivered to the compelling plot, to the climax in her chapter 3 and the bittersweet ending in her chapter 4. So heartbreaking and has a great attention to details, as well as amazing side characters. Perfect under every aspect and I loved the “horror rpg” vibe to it

Osvald - Amazing revenge tale (and kinda mimicking The Count of Montecristo), much more effective than Primrose's and also more heartbreaking and with an ending that's a bit more satisfying (even if the last chapter is definitely the weakest one and could've been handled better for such a good story). Cool plot twists at the right times an a villain that's actually Rotten to the Core (if we ignore the ridiculous laugh Harvey has). His chapter 1 was probably the best Octopath Traveler chapter 1 narration-wise and had me almost crying at his chapter 4 boss

Throné - I wasn't expecting her story to be this good in the slightest but the "getting out of the mafia" tale is well-executed and has some nice side plots for its side characters, as well as some quite shocking twists near the end. Her chapter 1 is also super good and has some pretty good dialogues.

Temenos - I have mixed feelings towards this one because it had so much potential but it definitely needed more time to be done correctly. The mystery plot feels kinda rushed at times (especially in chapter 3 because I think that one is kind of a narrative mess like why is everything happening SO QUICKLY) and one fatal flaw: Kaldena's backstory not being addressed well enough. She is really a character who needed to pop out more in his story. In the end it's probably a matter of pacing but it does have some real big wasted potential. Also another story that like Primrose's leaves you with a really bitter aftertaste except this time it's actually fitting for Temenos' character

Ochette - .....I'm sorry guys this story is literally Pokemon Ruby and Sapphire for a good 70% of it. Which doesn’t make it necessarily the worst story but it’s not original either. What I liked though is that it has some real good first and final chapters that got me kind of emotional and also kinda creeped me out. The side "anti-racism plot" could've been articulated better narratively but that's what we got in the end so. Also big wasted potential.

Hikari - I am not a fan of stories in which by chapter 1 you already know how they're going to end and Hikari's was exactly like this. I quite enjoyed the arena chapter and the chapter in Stormhail as well, and some parts of it were very cinematic. Not much more than that

Partitio - DISCLAIMER for the next 2 stories: again, I am not a fan of lighthearted stories because of personal taste, nothing else. I want the drama lol. This is why this one was not my cup of tea. I liked the narrative pace of chapter 1 but after that one it just kinda goes a little overboard with the crazyness idk it felt kinda weird to have a bulldog, a jobless guy and a train as bosses. What I loved were the "scent of commerce" side-stories though because it was really fitting to the time period the game is set in to have the merchant traveler interested in financing new inventions and machines. Also not that compelling overall

Agnea - Guys I'm sorry but this one was a big no for me. Legit had me really bored most of the time (especially didn't like the musical parts and her dialogues-only chapter 3 oh god) and never really got me hooked. I liked how cinematic her final boss battle was though and big w for the lesbians in her story I guess

Characters

Castti - Loved her caring, yet sarcastic attitude. She was such a fun and interesting character to be around (if we ignore how many times the travelers insist on calling her “mom” because she is just so much more) and has traits to her that left me quite surprised

Osvald - I love that for once we have a character that's not always nice to the other party members. I like his sharp tongue and atypical behavior, and him going nonverbal at times. A really interesting take on the scholar character I appreciated a lot (also dilfs lover here sorry not sorry)

Temenos - Mixed feelings for Temenos, again, because he does kinda sound like certain anime characters from my childhood but he is a fun character. Sly, snarky, diffident and secretly very broken inside is always a winning combination

Throné - I liked her a lot. I like the contrast between her kind personality and the gruesome job she's forced to do, and that she wants to redeem herself from everything she had to bear since she was a kid. I love her soft side and that she wants to be the good person she is

Partitio - Alfyn, but better. I can say I'm a fan of his over the top humour and attitude and his kind, generous heart

Agnea - Fun girl! I like her bubbly personality and also that she is stubborn and determined. She’s not a deep character but she is still fun

Ochette - I think her character had wasted potential. Even though I agree that she's fun and quirky, they didn't do a great job of portraying her as part of another whole species because they really kinda just made her personality rotate around liking meat. Also didn't really like how unnecessarily infantilized she was rip but she is still cute and fun

Hikari - .......Hikari likers I'm sorry. Oomfs who are Hikari likers if you’re reading this just know that I think your tastes are valid and I'm the one in the minority because everyone loves Hikari, so sorry for what I'm about to say but he kinda was what ruined his own story for me, as well as being the only traveler I actually dislike. I didn't like his teeth-rotting sweet dialogues and his whole character rotating around the concept of friendship. I didn't like that his one (1) flaw is him being possessed by a demon because of his cursed blood. He's too perfect. Therefore to me he's too uninteresting. Sorry!

Peace ✌️

[averagejoesolomon]

Here you go! Have another chapter! Can you spot all the things these boys don't say to one another, because boy howdy, there are a lot of them. Cannot wait for these events to unfold. If you're new here, you can read Full Circle from the beginning on Ao3.

Chapter Seven

“Boston’ll lead the season, but the Yanks are gonna take the series.”

The opposite end of the line is filled with clutter, dead air looping through the tinny background noise of a television on full blast. There’s talking, and laughter, and finally Joe’s crackling voice to cut through it all. “Put it on the record that this is our best phrase yet,” he says. “Seriously. Music to my ears.”

Matt rolls his eyes, leaning tight against the wall. He counts on his body to hide the bulk of this conversation, and hopes his shadow can hide the rest. “Yeah, that reminds me,” he says. “You owe me a rematch. I’m still not convinced that last move was legal.”

“It is in Virginia,” Joe confirms. “And in all but six other states.”

“I meant, like, legal as it applies to the rules of darts,” Matt clarifies, “but it’s nice to know where our barroom shenanigans stand in the eyes of the commonwealth.”

“Anyone ever told you that you’re a sore loser?”  

“Just my mama,” Matt answers. “And Danny Fisher, once, after he cheated his way through a potato sack race at the county fair.”

“Glad you’re not holding a grudge.”

“He didn’t go around the barrel, Joe.”

“Uh-huh.” It’s the same tone Joe always uses anytime Hay Springs gets mentioned, translated through thousands of miles of long distance calling. Rather than sit through another story from the Sheridan County Harvest Festival, Joe leads Matt toward more serious matters. Always so serious. “Is there a reason you called me? Or did you just need to get the Danny Fisher thing off your chest?”

With the promise of real and honest spycraft hanging over the line, Matt risks a subtle glance at one of the skillets hanging from the ceiling, checking his surroundings in the reflection. The Baxters are sealed inside their soundproof room, which Matt reckons is probably a blessing for everyone around. Rachel is locked in the cabin’s lone bathroom, with the shower to drown out anything he has to say.  In the adjoining living room, Townsend reads an old paper and pretends not to eavesdrop. That’s fine. Matt has something the kid wants and, for now, he’s probably too curious to sell out any details he might overhear.

It ain’t the most secure Matt’s ever been, but it’ll do. “I need some domestic backup,” he admits, catching on the conspiratorial sound of his own voice. He hasn’t noticed it until now, and it makes him feel like a rotten sneak. No wonder everyone thinks he’s trading secrets. “How’s your foot?”

Matt can practically hear the wind from Joe waving him off. “Forget about my foot.” Joe’s end of the line takes up a new rustling as Matt gets passed from one hand, to the other, then tucked into Joe’s shoulder. Matt’s listened to enough wiretapped feeds in his career to pick up on the faint ping of a pen pulled from its mug. The rip of an old message pad torn anew. Joe at the ready, for whatever Matt throws his way. “What do you need?”

Matt warns, “I’ve got something of a laundry list.”

And Joe insists, “I’ve got nothing but time on my hands.”

“S’not your hands I’m worried about.”

“Forget about my foot, already.”

That’s not likely, but Matt’s no fool. This is one of those moments Joe always tries to warn him about—a time when Matt needs to prioritize being a good spy over being a good friend. Fact is, he’s in a bind, and Joe is the only person he trusts to help him untangle these particular knots. “I need you to check my deposit box.”

Joe’s neat, military writing scratches through the line. “Which one?”

Another glance toward Townsend. Matt chooses his words carefully, passing along a puzzle only Joe can piece together. “The one with my passport in it.”

Back when Matt still made his living from listening to the Army’s persons of interest list, this was the sort of exchange that made the days run long. He’d spend hours trying to crack the unspoken, unofficial coded messages between rebel leaders and trusted advisors, agents and longtime informants, dealers and buyers with such clean operations that they could understand unknown depths of information after sharing just a few words. It never worked out in his favor, always ending in a plea to send an agent into the field for more insight. Codes like these exist outside of the vast mathematical reliability of ciphers and encryptions, and instead require minuscule context of a person’s day-to-day life. Codes like these don’t make any sense, unless a fella already knows that Matt banks at Washington National, and that he stowed away his honest passport three years ago at Joe’s recommendation, listing the account under Luke Andrews, with Zeke Rozelle as an authorized visitor.

 For Joe, it’ll be a ten minute walk to the train station, then a stroll downtown. For anyone else listening in, it would take weeks to comb through this kind of friendly shorthand, and even that wouldn’t do much. It’s surreal to stand on the other side of his old frustrations now, knowing that he and Joe could probably bring entire governments to a standstill without ever using a full sentence. Matt doesn’t have an Uncle Ben, but the words come to him anyway—with great power…

Joe doesn’t miss a beat. “You’ve got company?”

“Here?” Matt replies. “Always.”

“Friend or foe?”

“Can’t tell yet.”

Joe’s not a fan of this answer, but to be fair, Joe probably wouldn’t have liked any answer except doesn’t matter, already shook him. “Do you need me on a plane?”

“I need you,” Matt insists, “to check my box.”

“Fine,” he says, but there’s a double meaning to it. A not-so-subtle subtext that promises Joe will be on the next flight out if he senses even the slightest reason for it. “I’ll check the box. What am I looking for?”

“Just need you to verify the contents,” Matt tells him. “I’m hearing some chatter and I’m trying to figure out how much truth there is to it.”

This instruction is cryptic enough to keep Townsend’s prying ears out of the core of the conversation, but it does leave Joe in something of a guessing game. Fortunately, Joe’s always been pretty good at guessing, at least when it comes to Matt. “Chatter about your passport?” he says, first try. “What about it?”

Over Matt’s shoulder, Townsend’s newspaper crackles. He’s good. He’s got the timing down just right. Really looks like he’s reading. Matt still doesn’t buy it, and drops his voice even lower. “Rachel’s under the impression that the Soviets are buying identities,” he says. “She thinks mine is among them, but we haven’t been able to prove it yet.”

It’s not a question, when Joe says, “You think someone broke into your box. Stole your passport.”

“Maybe,” says Matt. “Or maybe they took the other one.”

Two passports, each bearing the name Matthew Morgan. One in his deposit box. One on file at Langley. Joe knows the details just as well as Matt does, so they’re just one more conversational shortcut away from the complete realization. “And if Rachel’s right—”

“—and Rachel’s always right—”

“—and if we find a passport in your box…”

Matt nods, even if Joe can’t see him. “Could be a lead.”

The pair of them have been chasing the Circle of Cavan long enough to see its leads come and go, but this one feels different. More direct. For years, Joe was the Circle’s most active agent inside the CIA, and every shred of evidence would lead back to him. An op he ran. A transcript he sold. A legend that never quite made it on the books. But Joe was never working alone, even if he rarely knew who he was working with. It takes more than one man to bring down an organization like the CIA, even if that man is Joe Solomon.

If the right passport has fallen into the wrong hands, this is a chance to put a face to his mysterious partners. To name them, find them, stop them. Static fills the line as Joe considers the news. More TV laughter rolls through the background, eerie and broken. “You told me this mission was Rachel,” he says, in the tone of a man who never would have let Matt go alone, had he known the stakes.

“It is Rachel,” Matt assures him, in the tone of a man who has it all handled, honest. “But it could also be”—he stumbles over eager words, stopping himself before he can say too much in front of present company—“bigger than Rachel.”

“Hold on.” Maybe because he doesn’t believe his ears, Joe temporarily forgoes their underhanded back-and-forth to ask outright, “You think Rachel Cameron is chasing the Circle of Cavan?”

This, admittedly, doesn’t seem quite right, with the way Joe lays it all out. Matt considers this, then finally lands on, “Unknowingly, maybe.”

Joe scoffs. It muffles up the line. “That woman has never done anything unknowingly.”

Matt bites back a smile, small but mighty. “Suppose you’re right about that.”

“Get her out of there, Matt. I’m serious.”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“A lady like Rachel has no business with the Circle.”

“She’s not exactly the kinda person you can just give orders to.”

“She’s going to get herself killed. The only thing more dangerous than going after the Circle on purpose is going after the Circle on accident.”

“What am I supposed to do? Drag her kicking and screaming onto the first plane out of Russia?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“Doesn’t seem very covert.”

“Look.” It’s one of those weighty, serious looks that Joe only pulls out when he really wants to get his point across. “Covert is the least of your concerns. She’s in this because of you, so you need to be the one to pull her out. She’s looking straight down the barrel and doesn’t even know it. It’s not right.”

Something interrupts the seamlessness of their conversation—a little blip of unrecognizable code that makes the whole thing hard to follow. Matt takes his best shot at cracking this new character in their shared alphabet. “What do you mean, she’s in this because of me?”

Whatever disconnect Matt’s feeling, Joe doesn’t seem to share it. “What do you mean, what do I mean?”

“This is her op,” Matt reminds him. “I didn’t pull her into this. She called me, remember?”

A pause. “Are you pulling my leg?”

“Not a chance,” Matt says. “I pull your leg, and your foot might fall right off.”

“Would you just—my foot is not that bad, okay?”

“What do you mean,” he tries again, “she’s in this because of me?”

There’s no small amount of deliberation on one other end of the line. Joe could fill oceans with all the things he never says, and he’s giving the Atlantic a damn good effort now. “Matt,” he says with a relenting sigh. “Now isn’t a good time to pretend there’s nothing going on between you two.”

Beers at a Williamsburg bar. A bruised jaw in Baltimore. A backless dress at the Bolshoi. Matt’s getting his wires crossed, and now a Joe conversation somehow triggers all of his Rachel shorthand. The years flash through his chest and send a twinge of that pesky and persistent want through every last nerve. “Going on?” he sputters, trying to reel his thoughts back to here and now. “Going on how—going on where? What do you mean, going on?”

“You know.” Joe’s voice gets all caught up in Matt’s flustered beat, and now they’re both off their usual rhythm. “C’mon, don’t—you know. I’m talking about that, I dunno, Sam and Diane thing you’ve got going with her.”

Matt officially doesn't recognize the shape of this conversation. Talking to Joe is always supposed to look and feel the same way, but this is something new. Matt’s not sure he cares for it. “Sam and Diane?” His nose twists up. “Who are you and what have you done with Joe?”

“Oh, lay off,” Joe drones. “NBC stuck a Cheers marathon at the end of the Orioles game, and the remote is on the other side of the room.”

What? “Since when do you watch the Orioles?”

“Since I broke my foot jumping onto a moving train and my buddy left me alone to go chase the Circle, apparently,” he says. “What are you, the TV police?”

“So you admit your foot is broken.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“No, wait, I’m sorry.” He thrashes around for a way to save the conversation, but he feels like a batter who’s just been told to run the bases backward. The best he can do is land back where Joe started and try to hit what’s getting pitched to him. “Sam and Diane. I’m supposed to be Sam?”

“You’re not Diane, are you?”

“Sam Malone is a pitcher.”

“That’s your problem with Sam Malone?” says Joe. “Not that he’s a drunk, and a fool, and a womanizer?”

“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”

“Okay.” Joe accepts a small defeat in this tangential argument to take another shot at the one he actually cares about. “Well, I can’t tell you how you feel about Rachel—not least because I don’t know how you stand in the same room as that woman without wanting to punch your own lights out. She’s abrasive, and prideful, and she starts fights like she’s got stock in them.”

“Right,” says Matt, because this part of the conversation is straight over home plate. Joe doesn’t like Rachel. Sure. It’s so familiar, Matt could hit it straight out of the park.

“But,” Joe continues, and it’s got all the signs of a curve ball. “I can tell you that there’s no such thing as coincidences, especially not when it comes to Rachel. If she’s wrapped up in Circle dealings, it’s not because she’s going after them. It’s because she’s trying to cover you.”

Swing, and a miss.

It’s the same thing Grace had said, not even a full day earlier. She’s saving your ass, darling. From Grace, it had come at him from the outside, striking the surface of his awareness as something to take note of at some future date. When Joe says it, the sentiment starts at his center and climbs his guts like a cliff side. It’s urgent and suspended, old Circle calluses now shredded with fresh fears.

Of course Rachel is covering him. That’s what Rachel does. She covers Abby. She covers her father. And now she’s covering him, even if she has to do it blindly.

Don’t you care about me?

Of course I do.

Of course you do.

“Dammit,” Matt spits, low and resigned. It’s all Joe needs from him, but he throws in a bonus, “Goddammit,” for good measure. “She’s smarter than this.”

“Or just smart enough,” Joe amends. “For years, she’s been chipping away at you, trying to figure out what we’re up to. Maybe she decided she was better off coming at it from a different angle. It’s kind of impressive.”

“Yeah, well.” There’s a pulse in Matt’s jaw, right where his teeth grind together. “She’s an impressive kinda lady.”

“Get her out of there.”

“I know.”

“Whatever it takes.”

“I know.”

Moscow has never felt so massive. Hours away from any border and even further from a friendly one, the vastness of the USSR stretches out in every direction. It’s one thing to risk his own hide with Circle business in the East. It’s another thing entirely to risk Rachel’s. The danger of it settles like a Russian winter down his spine, and all of a sudden he’s got an urge like he’s never had before, to run, run, run, with her hand clasped in his.

For the very first time, Matt has a top-down view of the complete playing field, while Rachel’s stuck strategizing from the bullpen. She’s too close to it. Too far in. The next call has to be his, and it has to be right. “Listen,” he says to Joe, and now he’s serious too. “Tonight. We were working the op and I saw a friend of yours.”

Matt’s got Townsend at his back. Passports in the bedroom. A redheaded agent who would do anything to get her package back. A plan begins to form in the back of his mind, rough around the edges but strong at its core. He’s got all the leverage he needs to help Joe. To call the Circle off Rachel’s scent. To put the focus back where it should be—on him. Only him. He started this fight, and he won’t have anyone else stepping in to take his punches. 

Joe takes a beat. There’s not a single sound on his end of the line. “I don’t have friends,” he says. “I’ve just got you.”

“The redhead,” Matt goes on. “From Wrigley.”

Now it’s Joe’s turn to let out a soft, “Dammit.”

“Do you have any idea what she’s doing—?”

“No.” He’s just short of a snarl. “This is the opposite of laying low.”

“You told her to lay low?”

“For a little while,” Joe confirms. “She got herself into some hot water a few months back, and she’s had to take some sketchy jobs to get out of it.”

“Yeah, I think I just walked into the middle of one.”

“She’s in Moscow?”

“Joe,” Matt says. “She’s delivering the damn passports.”

In the silence that follows, Matt finds space to wonder about an old question he’s never quite gotten an answer to. He’s always known about this girl—that she’s out there, that she’s working both sides, that she’s one of the few people Joe knows from his days with the Circle. But every time Matt brings her up, even as a possible Circle lead, Joe shuts him down. Waves him off. She’s not a threat, he’d say, and then move on. Matt doesn’t know how much they still work together. Doesn’t even know her name.

“She recognized me,” Matt continues. “Said we were on the same side—”

“You are not on the same side as her.”

“Someone ought to tell her that.”

“Fine.”

If Joe thinks this is the end of this conversation, he’s sorely mistaken. “Joe,” he says, as gently as he can muster. “Have you ever considered that maybe she’s—?”

“She’s not the leak.”

“How do you—?”

“Because I’m the one that leaks everything to her.”

This is the closest thing to background Matt’s ever gotten on the girl, so he keys in and listens up while Joe’s still in a talking mood. “She’s a go-between,” Joe admits. “An agent on the front lines. She’s got two jobs—deliver whatever information I’ve stolen, and don’t get caught. And they don’t tell her a damn thing, just in case she fails that second one.” Matt waits for more to come. After an uncomfortable moment, it does. “The Circle paired us together five years ago. But when I... when we—I started to slow down, and she had to find other work.”

Something clicks in Matt’s mind. “Which could explain why she’s in Moscow.”

“Whatever work she’s doing over there, I don’t know who’s giving it to her.”

“How about we find out?” Matt tries. “Can you get a message to her?”

“You’ve got bigger problems, cowboy.”

“I think I can hit two birds with one stone, on this one.”

If a fella spends enough time listening to phone lines, sooner or later he picks up the ability to hear beyond the background noise, and straight into the core of the call. That’s how Matt hears the hitched apprehension in Joe’s breath, the debate in the static, and the always subtle truth about Joe Solomon—that he wants out of the Circle more than he wants anything else. More than he wants Matt to come home safe. More than he wants Rachel out of Moscow. More than he wants his redheaded partner to lay low.

It’s begrudging, but Joe finally says, “What’s the message?”

Matt passes along a time and a place. In the reflection, Townsend’s eyes flash over the top of his paper, then quickly return to the act of performative reading. That’s fine. Matt’s not stupid enough to meet this girl without backup—the kid’s coming with him.

“And Matt?” Joe says. “Just… take it easy on her. She’s really not a threat.”

As someone who still has a thin, silver scar on his shoulder from where her bullet grazed him, Matt’s inclined to disagree. But he trusts Joe, and Joe trusts her, so maybe that’s enough for now. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, okay.”

“And think about what I said,” he goes on. “About Rachel.”

“Right.” That’s enough of that. “Maybe I’ll call Henry, too. See if he knows anything.”

“About Rachel?”

“About where your friend is finding this extra work.”

“That makes more sense,” says Joe. “Don’t ask Henry about the Rachel thing.”

“Really don’t plan on it,” Matt insists. “Let me know about the deposit box.”

“Already on my way.”

Matt can think of at least a dozen more requests—record the Royals game, pick up some milk, go to a doctor, check on his parents just in case. But the shower isn’t running anymore, Townsend’s reached the end of his pages, and this call was never truly covert to begin with. 

Still, Matt has one more question that he just can’t seem to shake. “Joe?” he says. “What’s her name?”

It takes Joe long enough to answer that Matt wonders if Joe’s already hung up, and he’s talking into dead air. “Her name is Catherine,” he finally says. “Catherine Goode.”

[mxdotpng]

the progression of events in this arc is so so good and great and i love how you can just clearly see where and how each characters thoughts begin and progress throughout each chapter as it goes on. while steven was probably set in stone about his view on how to handle the situation i earnestly believe zed and zapp set out to disobey steven's request. and then they make it very easy to understand leo's point of view and why hes doing what he is - its why they show us that flashback and don't tell anyone else, and why he speaks very little after zapp threatens him - and then immediately cuts to klaus, who knows absolutely nothing about the situation currently but he can figure it out just by looking at whats in front of him. and because klaus is so unflinching when it comes to upholding what he believes is morally right he does so without anyone needing to tell him whats going on. he sees this percieved 'monster' protecting someone else and immediately goes to protect it, too. and even though a lot of them disagreed with each other at the beginning there is still the scene afterwards where they all come together to try and catch each other when they begin falling. i think nightow should pay me for what its done to my mental health

[bedforddanes75]

i just think you deserve eternal happiness actually. funny and actually nice. u are jesus. anyway No pls i AM AFRAID u are simply too cool and i cant deal

[maybege]

btw i am still alive now that i have recovered from swiftkirchen and i hope you are all doing super well this summer! i am FLYING through my reading list atm which is amazing and i am feeling more and more inspired for things (footballer!paz anyone? roommate!paz as well maybe?) so hmu in the inbox it is TIME TO THIRST

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

one thing i was not prepared for when i started this rewatch of sdmi has been for it to finally sink in how absolutely heartbreaking daphne's whole deal is. this poor kid, man

[scoups4lyfe]

"keep yer fkin hands OFF my food"

I'M FVCKING SCREAMING

IT JUST KEEPS GETTING BETTER

pLEASEEEEEEEE

[tatoasting]

As a disabled Taurus dating a Scorpio, I'm finding reading homestuck to be a bit troubling.