#Drive Tastefully

[luxuryon]

[javierduffy]

something i’ve never noticed until now but is a very very nice touch: the creak of the leather of john’s saddle and the jingle of his spurs in rdr

[douxmae]

I have to make a vase for my ceramics class and paint a narrative on the side of it, and the currently hyper fixated side of me is trying to fight off the idea of painting scenes from Journey to the West on it

[pineyw00dsshesquatch]

INUYASHA DRIVES A LATE 90'S RED FORD RANGER

It's got over 200k miles, but it's 4wd and gets him thru the woods QUICK

HIS DADDY DROVE AN EARLY 90'S F250 XLT

Took care of it like a baby, Izayoi loved to cuddle on the bench seats, it ruled the lands to the East

What kind of vehicle would Inuyasha drive and why would it be a pickup truck?

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader attend a fashion show

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

based off of the loewe show from this past weekend <3

Y/n adjusted the belt of her outfit as she walked out into the hotel lobby. Once she glanced up, her gaze immediately met an unmistakable pair of blue eyes, crinkled slightly in the corners and paired with a wide grin. Drew stood near a large window, the tint allowing for privacy from the busy street outside. He wore a black and white gingham button down, tucked into a pair of loose black pants and paired with a brown leather jacket. His hair was tousled tastefully, showing off the highness of cheekbones and the pair of sunglasses perched on his nose.

Y/n almost felt envious, he made it look so effortlessly handsome, his charm and confidence radiating from him. She had been to fashion events before, but never front row at an event as big as this one or alongside such a gorgeous individual as Drew…

“You look stunning, baby.” Drew said, pulling her into a hug before pressing a kiss to the side of her head. Y/n felt her cheeks warm as she put her hand into Drew’s, squeezing it lightly.

“Are you kidding me? Look at yourself, Starkey.” Y/n whispered into Drew’s ear, her hot breath bringing a soft pink to his cheeks.

“You guys ready?” Drew’s assistant asked, gesturing out towards the black car parked on the curb. The two of them reluctantly tore their gazes away from each other, walking out towards the car. Luckily, only a few fans had gathered outside the hotel, the couple greeting them briefly before ducking into the car.

“Alright so the camera is set up here,” Drew’s assistant gestured to the camera sat up across from them, “so, have fun.”

“Thank you!” Y/n waved to Drew’s assistant as he shut the door, leaving the two of them alone with the camera as they began to drive towards the event. The two of them eased into their seats, Drew’s hand coming to rest on the sliver of skin between the end of y/n’s skirt and the top of her boot. He gazed at her softly, his eyes transfixed on the soft green fabric of her outfit and the way her skin glowed in the bit of sunlight that seeped through the windows of the car. He reached out to brush a hair away from her ear, leaning in closely.

“I wish this camera wasn’t here because you look so fucking sexy.” Drew whispered into y/n’s ear, close enough to avoid the gaze of the camera, causing a tingle to run down her spine. She elbowed him playfully, the two of them laughing before easing into relaxed, camera-friendly banter.

Waves of fans, flashes of cameras, and shouts signaled the arrival to the venue. Once the door opened, Drew climbed out the car before turning to offer his hand to y/n. She took it with a grin, following Drew out towards the sea of people. The two of them chatted with fans and interviewers, taking photos and signing pieces in the clamor of the crowd. After a couple of minutes, one of the event coordinators led them towards the runway, pointing them to their seats.

“Are you nervous?” Drew asked, brushing his hand along the curve of y/n’s back as they settled into their seats.

“A bit intimidated.” Y/n said with a light laugh. Drew grinned gently before pressing a kiss to y/n’s temple.

“Don’t be. You’re the most beautiful woman in this room.” Drew said, hugging her into his side as the lights begin to dim. Despite all the time they’ve spent together, Drew still managed to make her dizzy in the head with his gracious words and soft touches, making her feel like a teenager falling in love for the first time all over again.

The show began, models strutting down the runway in various spring colors, florals, and fabrics. Y/n eyes followed each step, admiring the stunning combinations and how they fit each and every model beautifully, naturally highlighting their features whilst also allowing the pieces to stun on their own. She glanced over at Drew, looking to share her fascination quietly with someone. However, Drew’s eyes weren’t on the outfits, they weren’t even on models walking in front of them. They were locked solely on her, a content grin and soft pink on his face.

“What?” Y/n whispered, quickly checking over her outfit and running her fingers through her hair, hoping to fix whatever Drew seemed to be distracted by.

“Nothing. Just looking.” Drew shrugged, a cheeky smirk on his lips as he gently traced his thumb along the curve of her hip. Y/n rolled her eyes, laughing quietly to herself before turning back to the show. Once the final model exited the runway, everyone jumped to their feet and erupted into applause.

“Wow. Jonathan has outdone himself.” Y/n said to the attendees around them, gushing about fabrics, cuts, accessories, and whatever else she had fallen in love with during the show. Once they made it out into the garden that surrounded the venue, the two of them found themselves sitting on an ivy-coated bench, Drew’s arm wrapped firmly around her midsection. Drew was always a touchy person, making sure to find some way to be holding onto her whenever they were out and about, but now it seemed like he couldn’t get enough of her.

“Drew what has gotten into you?” Y/n laughed, looking over at Drew, the same blushed grin he had plastered on his face still present.

“You. You’re driving me fuckin’ crazy, darling.” Drew whispered, pressing his lips to hers. She smiled against his lips before pulling away, running her fingers through his hair as she looked back at him.

“You’re crazy, Starkey.” Y/n grinned.

“Only for you, baby. Only for you.” Drew grinned, pressing another kiss to her temple.

[billybutcherrtrash]

Throne

Link to Pt 2 <-

CW: 18+ (MDNI) oral (f) and fingers and smut.

You and Spencer are friends who attended at party for a mutual friend and find you have an interesting shared book fantasy.

It had been several hours since you’d arrived at the party for a mutual friend. Reid had been cautiously watching you as you talked to everyone and gave them a small amount of your time. Every so often your gazes would meet and you’d exchange a smile from a distance. Although you’d greeted him when he walked in, you’d been rushed away my another friend for some kind of emergency. Every guy you talked to made Reid anxious. He hated the idea of you walking out of this place with someone else. Anyone else but him. Finally you made your way over to him, sitting down beside him and smiling.

“Welcome back”. Spencer said as you took a sip of your drink.

“Thanks. It’s been very hectic. You’d think for a going away party it would be more fun. Instead I’m chasing down my drunk friends.” You sighed.

“Yeah, I think I saw one of my drunk friends fall off the bar earlier.” He laughed.

“I saw that. I think we’re the only two here that aren’t drinking.”

“I like to be in control of myself. I drink occasionally but in this atmosphere I don’t think it’s wise.”

“I agree. To much going on and I’m already over stimulated”

“Glad I’m not the only one.” He nodded.

You tucked your hair behind your ears and shifted closer to him. “I’m really happy you came.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up, “I’m glad too. I’ll admit I was on the fence until I heard you’d be coming too.”

“Really?”

He nodded, “Yeah. This isn’t my thing. Bars. Or people.”

“I would much rather be at home reading. I hate all this.” You shrugged.

“Oh, that’s reminds me I started reading this book about ancient erotica and I think -“

At that you held up your hand to stop him,“Did you just say erotica?”

Spencer nodded, “Yeah, but not in the way you’re thinking of pornography. It’s rather tasteful compared to today’s idea of erotica. I’ve read a few of what is considered erotic today and I think it’s just porn on paper.”

You stared at him for a long moment. His brown eyes stared back anticipating your response.

“Porn on paper is called smut now.” You smirked.

“Yes, and it is just sexually charged writing. Ancient erotica is art. Paintings and images that are tastefully done.” Reid explained.

“I guess my bookshelf is filled with porn then.” You laughed softly.

“You read…smut?” He bit his lip.

Suddenly you felt hot. Did the temperature go up? You’d just admitted you had read spicy books.

“I-wel-…I mean…I have other kinds of books too.” You stammered. “I have biographies and nonfiction also. Fantasy.”

Spencer was enjoying watching you squirm. You were flustered now. He could see trying to save whatever semblance of a normal conversation there was left.

“Fantasy? What kind of fantasy?” He asked.

“No sexual fantasy…I have Fourth Wing. Have you read it?”

“Dragons and thunder…I have read it and its sequel.” Reid nodded. “But may I ask…how you felt about the throne scene?”

He was torturing you now. He watched as your eyes went wide and your breathing halted just enough to notice.

“I…uh…Spence…you’re doing this on purpose.” You said softly.

“Am I? I’m just curious.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Are you?”

“Very…” He nodded.

He watched you bite your lip. The conversation had taken a sharp turn and now you were staring at each other, both quiet. You wished you knew what he was thinking about.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Spencer finally asked.

“Yes”. You agreed.

He stood and held out his hand for you. You took it and slipped out of your seat, following him out the door. You felt anxious as you walked out into the cold air, cautiously looking up at him.

“Did you drive?” He asked, looking back.

“No…I came with (your mutual friend’s name).”

“You should probably tell her you’re leaving.” Spencer smirked.

“I can text her.” You blushed a little as you arrived at Spencer’s car.

You turned to face him as he opened the door for you. It was only now that you realized he was so much taller than you. All the time working with him at the university and you’d never noticed. He stepped closer and slid a hand around your waist.

“Can I kiss you?” Spencer asked.

Your brained seemed to short circuit, unable to form words, so you nodded almost too enthusiastically. Spencer leaned down and cupped your face, kissing you gently. The feel of his mouth on yours was dizzying. You weren’t drunk but you felt like it. He pulled you a little closer and you welcomed the feel of his body. After a few long moments he pulled back leaving you aching his touch. He gazed at you, stroking your cheek gently.

“Still want to go home with me?” He asked.

“Yes” Was all you could managed, still seeing stars.

Spencer helped you in the car before closing the door and running to the other side. You watched him get in and start the car.

“Don’t forget to text (your friend’s name).”

“Oh, right.” You reached for your phone and sent a quick text letting them know you’d found a ride.

They sent a reply with eggplant emoji’s and water droplets. Thank God it was dark because your cheeks were red at the idea of them knowing who you’d left with. The man you’d confided in her to having a crush on from the minute he’d walked into your life. As he drove you pulled your sleeves over your hands and fidgeted with them anxiously. You couldn’t have possibly expected him to not notice. He reached over and laced his fingers with yours.

“You play with your clothes when you’re nervous.” Spencer said, glancing at your hands.

Of course he’d noticed. The many meetings you’d sat in together, the times you’d been in the elevator together alone, the time he’d come to you asking for your opinion on a case, he’d seen it every time he was near you. You looked up as you felt the car slow to a stop. He put the car in park and you both sat for a moment. Finally your eyes met his. He gave you a soft smile.

“Do you still want to come inside?” Spencer asked.

“I do.” You answered.

He nodded and got out of the car, coming around to open your door and helped you out. Her nerves were started to become more noticeable. You didn’t do this. You never went home with guys. Especially not guys you worked with. Especially not anyone with an IQ of 187 and read books on ancient erotica. Spencer took your hand and led you into his building. Once in the elevator you chewed at your lip, your fingers linked with his as he pressed the button to his floor.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, reaching up to brush your hair behind your ear.

“Spence…you need checking on me. I’m fine. I’m sure. I promise.” You said, standing on your toes to kiss him.

He cupped your neck, returning the kiss. He was gentle and soft. You could only hope he maintained that once you were in his apartment. The elevator dings upon arriving at his floor. He pulled away reluctantly and you stepped off, making your way to his front door.

“I’m slightly surprised we aren’t stumbling down your hallway, too impatient to get inside.” You joked.

Spencer slid his key in the door, “We could have been but you deserve more respect than me just trying to fuck you.”

Your jaw dropped, surprised. “Spencer Reid said fuck!” You smirked.

“I’ve been known to swear on occasion.” He replied, letting you inside.

You stepped inside the apartment, looking around. He closed the door and locked it.

“So…what now?” He asked, stepping closer to you.

“Spence…we both know what’s going to happen…but can we pretend for five seconds that you’re not thinking about undressing me and be making obscene sounds shortly thereafter?” You asked, taking his hand.

“Well now that you’ve put that image in my head…it’s going to be hard not to.” He smirked.

“You mentioned you had books. I want to see the collection.”

“The lady gets what the lady wants.” He replied, leading you to his bookshelf.

It seemed to overflow with classic literature in many languages. You looked at the titles, a few familiar and many you’d never seen or heard of. Then your eyes caught a familiar gold cover. You smirked and pulled out Fourth Wing.

“You really did read it.” You smirked.

“You and Penelope wouldn’t shut up about it, I was curious what had you so worked up. It’s not my thing but it peaked my interest.” He replied. “Especially chapter 48 in Iron Flame.”

You froze, knowing exactly what he was referring to. He leaned in close, his breath hot on your skin.

“My house. My chair. My woman.” He whispered.

You looked up at him, your mouth suddenly dry. You had forgotten he’d mentioned the throne room scene.

“You…um…you know the exact chapter.” You stammered.

He smirked down at you. “Of course I do. You never told me how you felt about it.”

“I mean…obviously it’s hot.” You turned to face him. “What woman doesn’t want a man worshipping her on his knees on a throne.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you want?”

“Do you have a throne?” You asked.

“Not quite a throne, but I definitely have a chair we can pretend is a thrown.”

You licked your lips as you felt your pulse rising. You felt hot again. You knew why you’d come to his apartment and now was the time you stopped pretending it was innocent.

“Show me.”

Spencer gave a soft smile and led you to his room. It was neat, bed made and everything orderly. Your eyes fell upon a gorgeous leather chair near the window. It was the perfect reading chair, but tonight it was going to be a throne for him to worship you on. He walked you over and you admired it. You could see it was tall enough that your feet might dangle if you sat down, and the leather was soft. God forbid you dig your nails into it and mark the leather.

“Are you sure?” Spencer asked from behind you.

You felt his hands sliding up your arms, stroking your biceps gently. His breath was hot on your neck as you leaned back into him.

“Yes.” You said, eyes closing when he kissed your neck.

“Then sit down.”

You swallowed anxiously, turning to face him before sitting down. You could have sworn his eyes darkened just a bit as he moved to the floor. Surprisingly the chair was the perfect height for you to be face to face. You pulled him against you and kissed him. His hands ran through your hair and down your shoulders. You knew exactly want was coming. He pulled away and removed your shoes. As his hands moved to your jeans you feel your pulse racing and your breathing quicken. He pulls you to the edge of the chair and tugs them down your legs. The air conditioning sends goosebumps over your skin as Spencer looks up at you. His eyes met yours and you forgot to breathe. He didn’t look away as you placed kisses on your legs, creeping higher and higher up your thigh.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He said, stroking your opposite thigh. “God, you’re perfect.”

You bit your lip, having trouble forming words. All you wanted was for him to devour and absolutely worship you. His hand slid over your hips and to the top of your underwear. The second they were gone you knew you’d never be able to recover. You ached for him. Slowly he slid them down and you watched him carefully. Spencer’s eyes darkened even more at the sight of you bare before him. He could see the moisture pooling at your core and he was instantly rock hard.

“Last time…you want this?” He asked.

“Last time, yes.” You panted, “Please, God, just touch me.”

Begging wasn’t something you’d thought you’d be doing but you were desperate. He nodded, moving one leg to sit over the arm of the chair and the other over his shoulder. You nearly came as his tongue slid through your wet folds. You let out a loud gasp, your head falling back against the back of the chair. He swirled around your clit, toying with it gently.

“Spencer, fuck!” You moaned, nails digging into the leather.

He smiled as he continued his actions, lapping up your juices. His hands held you firmly in place and you squirmed under his.

“Don’t stop, please.” You whimpered.

Spencer watched you coming undone, enjoying every second of it. Watching your breathing catch when he licked your clit. You moaned even louder when he slid a finger into you. It was nearly enough to finish you. Your hand moved to his hair and you tugged at it, causing him to groan against you. The vibrations only added to the pleasure. He added another finger, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck…” You panted, so close to cumming.

Spencer felt you clench around his fingers and he moved them faster. His tongue massaged your delicate folds until finally you couldnt hold on.

“Spence, oh, fuck…” You whimpered before coming undone.

He smiled, working you through it. Finally you could breathe again and you looked down at him. He was just watching you, stroking your thigh gently.

“You okay?” He asked.

“More than okay.” You blushed as you sat up.

“How was it?”

“It rivaled all the fantasies I had about being worshipped in a thrown”. You admitted.

[jiminsafairy]

Darling, you are late - Seokjin (ft Namjoon)

Summary: Your husband is late to your baby making session, so you take the matter into your own hands.

Pairing: CEOhusband!seokjin x wife!reader (ft husband best friend!Namjoon)

wc:3k

Warnings: unprotected sex (they are trying to make a baby, duh), reader is a bit bratty, exhibitionism, he cums inside (duh), cockwarming, seokjin is a workaholic, pregnancy kink (lactation kink if you squint?), namjoon makes a cameo! reader gives him a bj while seokjin fucks her

"Sir, your wife is here" you hear his secretary say.

"Send her in", he answers, his voice distorted as it comes off the intercom.

"You can come in, Mrs. Kim" the old lady indicates.

You push open the double doors and stepped inside. The room was spacious and bright, with floor-to-ceiling windows that filled the space with natural light and offered a stunning view of the city.

To one side, a comfortable red velvet sofa provided a cozy spot to relax. The office was tastefully decorated with a few pieces of art on the walls giving the finishing touch.

In the center of the office stood a large wooden desk, neatly organized. Seated on the fancy chair was your husband. His eyes were fixed on the laptop screen, face scrunched in concentration, a frown creasing his forehead.

You couldn’t avoid the thought of how handsome he looked with his two-piece gray suit.

"Hello dear, give just one m- " your husband starts to say, but you cut him, angry.

"I thought you were coming home early!" you scold him, crossing your arms over your chest. After waiting for more than an hour you got tired of it and decided to take the matter into your own hands, driving across the city to his office.

"I’m sorry darling, had to attend a last-minute meeting and now I’m stuck with paperwork" Seokjin excuses himself, eyesight never leaving the screen.

"Don’t you know what day it is?!" you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I’m afraid you’ll have to refresh my memory, dear" he mumbles, not paying attention to you.

"It’s ovulation day! You said you were going home early!", you pout while walking up to his desk, the sound of your heels clicking on the floor.

"Gimme a ‘I’m sorry kiss’ at least" , you demand, and your husband finally takes his sight away from the computer. He looks at you with sorry eyes, and you lean in, allowing him to place a quick peck on your lips.”I love you” you say.

"Mmm, I love you too" he says against your lips, "Please wait for me just five more minutes and we’ll go home" he excuses himself, going back to his important CEO paperwork

"Darling but I’m bored! And horny!" ,you whine, getting behind him, placing your hand on his broad shoulders.

Placing your hands on his broad shoulders, you whisper in his ear, cheshire cat-smile on your face, "If you could do…" you place a soft peck against his neck," something…" peck, "to keep me entertained.." another peck, "while I wait…".

He lets out a sigh, knowing what your intentions were, but he caves in anyway, "baby, you can sit on my cock while I finish this paperwork, how does that sound?", he offers, leaning back on his chair. 

"Terrific" you say while unbuttoning your blouse, and sliding it over your arms. No bra in sight, your big breast in full display for him.

Seojin looks at you with hungry eyes, "god, you are so hot." He pulls you gently by your wrist, bringing you close to him. "Do you need me to prep you, love?" your husband taking one breast on his mouth, tongue flicking against your nipple. 

"No need Jinnie, I’m so wet already…" you say, unzipping your black midi skirt, the fabric pooling at your feet. You were not wearing any underwear. You grab his hand, inviting to feel for himself.

He inserts one finger inside your needy pussy making you moan, feeling your juices covering his digit. "You are such a dirty girl, going around my office with no underwear". Your pussy clenches around his finger. "Bet that’s why you are so wet" he coos, pumping his finger inside you a few times before taking it out, leaving your pussy clenching around nothing.

His hands go to his suit pants, pulling them down to his knees along with his black briefs, freeing his semi-hard cock. Just the thought of you walking around his building with no underwear makes his cock stiffen. You take his shaft in your hand and after a few pumps, it was hard and ready for you.

You sit on his lap, back against his, while he guides his cock inside your needy hole, rubbing the tip against your wet folds. "Oh god… so good", you moan at the feeling of his huge cock entering your pussy. "No matter how many times we fuck, I just love being stretched by your dick", you say, enjoying the feeling of being so full.

"My beautiful wife loves keeping my dick warm, huh? What a lucky man I am" he says, planting a kiss on your bare shoulder, "now be a good girl and lemme finish this, so we can go home and make some babies, yes?" he demands, giving your asscheek a quick squeeze, eyesight fixed on the boring spreadsheet again. His left hand goes to your nipple,and starts fiddling with it. 

"Mmm…keep doing that Jinnie, feels so good…" you moan, leaning back against his chest.

The feeling of having your husband playing with your sore breast it’s good, but not enough. Too horny to keep your thoughts straight, you begin to squeeze your inner walls, making excuses to wiggle around. 

"Stay still", your husband says, lowering his voice. He tugs at your nipple, making you moan. “I know what you're trying to do, you little devil” he warns, but you ignore him, clenching your walls again.

"But Jinnie I’m not doing anything!" you said mischievously, trying to hide a smile. But kept on clenching your walls.

"That’s it," Seokjin said as he lifted you from his lap, his cock leaving your aching pussy, "I’ve had enough, hands on the desk, ass up." You obey, placing your hands on the desk, leaning against it, lifting up your ass.

Being placed between his desk and the glass walls, anyone from the next building curious enough to look would be able to see the lewd scene the two of you were performing.

"You minx, you thought you were being slick, didn’t you?" he whispers and you feel his hot breath against your ear. "It’s time to show you who’s in charge.", he says, grabbing his cock by the base and giving it a few pumps.

He rubs the tip of his cock against your needy pussy. "Please love, just put it inside!" you plead.

"My wife wants to be bred, doesn’t she? Such a good girl” he coos. "I love you.” He declares as he buries himself inside your needy hole with one hard thrust, making you moan.

"Fuck! I love you!" you whimper,leaning on your elbows.

He starts pounding against your pussy, grabbing you by your hips.

"Fuck Jin, It feels so good! I feel you so deep inside me…please don’t stop!" you moan, closing your eyes in pleasure.

"Fuck, I feel your pussy clenching around my cock."

You two were so lost in the moment that neither of you noticed someone had entered Seokjin’s office and was standing next to you, observing the scene with curiosity.

"So, this is what the boss spends his time doing in his fancy office, huh?" the mysterious visitor said, looking at the situation unfolding before him.

"Shut up, Namjoon'' said Seokjin gasping for air, hips still bucking against your asscheeks, cock buried deep inside you, “we all know what you did at the Christmas party when you sneaked away to your office with that girl from accounting", your husband claps back, pushing his cock deeper into you. Even with an audience, you both were so caught up in the moment that the thought of stopping didn’t even cross your mind.

"Hi Nam" you chirp, looking at your husband’s best friend.

"Hey beautiful", your husband’s friend answers with a smile, flashing his dimples at you, "I just came to let you know that the Japanese investors have just posponed tomorrow's meeting...", said the man. The sentence was clearly directed at your husband, but his eyes were fixed on your tits, bouncing with each thrust.

"Message received. Now, if you'll excuse us, we're trying to do something important; this company needs an heir," your husband said, bending down to grab your tits with his big hands, pitching your nipples between his index and thumb. 

"Alright, I'll leave," says Namjoon, but his feet didn’t move.

Your eyes drift down to the tent that has been forming inside his trousers. A wild thought crossed your mind.

"Jinnie, can I..?" you say, motioning with your eyes towards Namjoon’s boner.

"Oh, hell no!" he yells, stopping his pounding, but not taking his cock out.

"He cannot leave like that!" you laughed, "poor guy is going to get arrested for public indecency!".

Namjoon just stood there, watching as the lover’s quarrel took place.

"Alright, but it's just this once," your husband says, starting again to pump into your pussy at a slow pace, "You know I cannot say ‘no’ to you", he says with a smile on his face.

"I love you" you said cheekily.

"Yeah, yeah."

You looked at Namjoon, "would you take out your cock for me, Joon?" you said, giving him the puppy eyes, "I’m quite busy here", you say.

"On it, gorgeous", he said diligently, sliding his black suit pants down to his knees, black briefs following them. Big cock springing free, you couldn’t keep your glistening eyes away from it, amazed by the size. It was different from Seokjin’s. Not longer, that was a given – your husband has the longest cock you ever had -, but it was on the thicker side.

Namjoon grabs his cock by the base and rubs the tip against your lips. You take your tongue out and start giving small licks around the head, going slowly down to the base. Your husband’s best friend lets out a pleasure moan.

You put the tip inside your lips, liking the tip with your tongue.

"Fuck, she’s so good, hyung" he states, grabbing handful of your long hair, "her mouth is amazing."

"Yeah" he says, looking down at you. "My pretty wife gives the sloppiest blowjobs, right?". You mumble in response, mouth too full of cock to be able to articulate any word.

Namjoon’s hips start to swiftly buck against your face. You notice how much he’s restringing himself. And so does your husband.

"Are you going to let Namjoon fuck that pretty mouth of yours?" he coos, slowing down his thrusts. “Show him how good you suck cock?"

Humming in response, you relax your jaw, taking the full length inside your mouth. Immediately Namjoon starts fucking your mouth, right hand still on your hair.

"Hyung, can I?" he asks.

"Mmm… I guess you can" your husband says. You don’t know what they are talking about until you feel his fingers leaving your tits, and another set of - never felt before -  fingers on you. "Her tits are the best, feel them for yourself."

"Fuck yes, I always though how good they’d feel" says as he feels the weight of your breasts with his hands. "So soft...so big they can barely fit in my hand" says, as he starts pitching your nipples between his fingers.

The feeling of having your husband plugging you with his cock behind you, and his best friend’s cock filling your mouth and abusing your sore nipples was too much to handle. The familiar pressure building in your abdomen, your aching pussy clenching around Seokjin’s shaft.

"She’s going to cum, she’s milking my cock so hard" Seokjin says, pumping hard, "keep doing it Joon'' he demands, as he leans on your back, his hand reaching for your needy clit. "You are doing so well, love, fucking me so good while sucking my best friend."

You moan, feeling so full on both ends. Pleasure becomes almost unbearable, you reach your orgasm between cries of pleasure.

"Fuck I’m close" whines Namjoon, hardening the grip on your breast. "Where do-?", he asks, as he starts to get his dick out of your mouth.

"Don’t move" orders seokjin. "You can cum in her mouth, she loves swallowing cum, don’t you, love?" he asks you, even though he already knows the answer. You do.

You hum in aproval, and keep liking Namjoon's tip with your tongue. Lifting one hand from the desk, you start fiddling with his balls.

"I’m cumming, f-fuck!" moans Namjoon, leaning back his head with pleasure. Hot spurts of cum filling your mouth.

"Swallow. Everything" Seokjin commands, and you are happy to obey, swallowing every bit of cum. "Good girl" he praises.

Namjoon flicks your nipple one last time, before taking his cock out of your mouth. “That was amazing, thank you beautiful”, says the man while pulling his pants and briefs up. You smile at him.

"Good luck with the heir thing!" was heard as Seokjin's partner closed the office doors.

"No more interruptions, my love. It's time for us to get serious," says Seokjin, slowing the pace of his thrusts and taking his cock out of your pussy.  

"W-what?", You whine at the feeling of being empty, turning back to him. "What are you doing?!"

He grabs you by the hand, leading you to the couch. “Dirty girls like you don’t get my cum just like that, they need to earn it” he says, plumping himself there.

"Now ride me like the good girl you are" he orders, palming his naked thighs. "Show me how bad you want to be stuffed with my cum", he demands with a cocky smile adorning his beautiful plump lips.

You straddle him, grabbing his cock by the base and guiding it inside your pussy again, rubbing the tip up and down your wet slit. ��Mmm, you feel so good”, you moan, closing your eyes. "I love you so much" you declare.

You gasp, sinking down on his long shaft, the change of position allowing you to feel him even deeper. "I feel so full, so stuffed" you moan, starting to rock your hips.

"You enjoy being full of cock, don’t you?" he groans, hands grabbing the flesh of your hips.

"Yes, I love your cock it’s so big, filling me so good…" you whine, pleasure becoming almost unbearable.

"I wanna see those big tits bounce, ride me faster" he demands, urging you to speed up your movements. You lay your hands on his chest, using them as leverage.

"Fuck, your pussy fills so good", your husband moans, sitting up and taking one nipple in his mouth. "I can't wait until these pretty tits are big, filled with milk" he whispers, his hot breath against your needy flesh."You'd like that, yeah?"

"Seokjin, fuck, I’m close", you whimper. The feeling of his hipbone gracing your clit with every move taking you close to your release.

He releases your nipple, leaving your tit glistening with saliva.

"“Such a good girl, riding me like that. I love watching you ride me" ,he praises. "I’m close too." he says as his hips start bucking to meet yours.“ Fuck I’m gonna cum."

"Seokjin!" you whine, "Fuck!", your orgasms taking over you.

"I’m cumming, fuck I’m gonna fill you so good, I love you so much" he groans. "Don’t stop baby, I’m cumming" he announces as you keep bouncing on his cock.

You feel his warm sperm filling you, hot spurts coating your walls, and lean to kiss him.You stay in that position for a few moments, indulging in your kiss.Until you feel his cum starting to run down your inner thighs.

"Oh, shit" you say, stepping out of his lap and sitting next to him. He looks at you, and to your surprise, he collects all the cum that had spilled from your pussy, "we cannot let even one bit go to waste," says, plunging you with his fingers. "Mmm… yeah" you moan.

Once you have collected yourselves, your husband says "now, get dressed, we are going home for round 2".

[gi4hao]

🗓️ ᡣ𐭩ྀི ˎˊ- anniversary dates with seventeenྀི

hyung line version! (scoups -> woozi)

had a really sunny weekend so please enjoy these sunshine-fueled scenarios!

— seungcheol

turns out your anniversary took place during a vacation together, a week-long holiday near the beach. on the d-day, he refuses to say anything about his plans, no matter how many times you ask, to the point where you end up blindfolded as he leads you to his surprise. when you take the blindfold off, the only thing you can see is a white boat awaiting on the shore. at first you’re scared he might have actually bought the boat, but he ‘only’ rented it for a private dinner. the sun has just started to set and you’re glad to have picked one of your cutest outfits because you just know he’s going to be taking as many pictures of you as he can. you might be admiring the sunset, but he'll be admiring you the whole time.

— jeonghan

he truly racked his brain to find the per-fect date idea. on the day, he keeps you guessing with more than vague hints (like “we talked about doing that one day” as if you didn’t talk about literally doing everything together). but he’s confident in his surprise and rightfully so: at first you think it’s just a regular picnic, which would have been fine on its own, but as more people start to gather around you, you realize that a lantern festival is actually taking place here tonight. together, you scribble your wishes and dreams for the future on your lantern. and you love how he’s not even trying to hide what he’s writing: one thing about jeonghan, he’ll never try to conceal anything about his feelings for you.

— joshua

this one has a proud smirk plastered on his face the entire morning, hinting at a surprise. you get in his car around 9am and drive for about twenty minutes until he stops in front of a fancy looking building. “you know how we always talk about moving to a bigger apartment yet never actually visit anything? well i figured today would be the day…”, he tells you excitedly. and it’s only when the realtor meets you on the street that you realize joshua has actually booked a visit. more than one, in fact: throughout the day, you visit four apartments, walking from one to the other hand in hand, already fantasizing about what life is going to look like for the two of you.

— jun

both having a busy schedule, you recently told jun you missed having a proper dinner together and it’s given him the best idea for your anniversary: a nice dinner together without the practical difficulties of going to a fancy restaurant. when you come back home that evening, you find your place tastefully decorated with various candles, flowers and fairy lights. as for jun, he’s done his hair the way you like it best, dressed in an outfit you love, wearing the same perfume from when you first started dating. with a sheepish smile, he guides you to the balcony where the table is set, revealing the stunning city view from your apartment.

— hoshi

his plan for today is to make you feel as loved as ever, and that requires day-long dedication, starting with mandatory prince.ss treatment all morning. around 11, he tells you it’s “time to go” although you still have no idea what he’s talking about. but a 45 minutes drive later, you can make out the blueish color of the sea in the horizon. with him by your side, you know it won’t be just any beach day: picnic on the sand, a long walk along the shore spent saying “look, it’s us!” when you see two relatively close rocks, and most of all, soaking up the sun together in the water, all while being that clingy couple who cannot stop swooning over each other.

— wonwoo

this morning, wonwoo wakes up particularly early to cook breakfast for the both of you. you’re already awake by the time he’s done, but he looks so adorable trying to balance the tray while opening the door with his foot that you pretend like you’re still asleep. later, he surprises you with a gift which looks… a bit odd. you didn’t really expect a QR code. but you scan it anyways, and then everything starts to make sense: the QR code brings you to a website, a shelter website more specifically. “are we…”, you start, a huge smile already on your lips. “going on a shelter date to get a cat? absolutely”, he replies, glad you’re enjoying his surprise as much as he hoped.

— woozi

to him, this is the perfect day to show how much your relationship means to him, because he fears you might not know it well enough (you do). so he’s got a little something prepared… the first part of his plan is to fake an apology: “i’m really sorry, i completely forgot…”. second part is to say he’ll take you to movies another day, which you accept, still half-upset. and finally, last part is to welcome you home on the d-day, takeout ready on the table but most importantly, with a homemade outdoor cinema right in your backyard. thick mattresses, fluffy pillows and a large white screen facing a brand-new projector, he went all out to make sure you feel as cherished as he always does.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

[slamminslamminmcgill]

joel being your designated driver when your lil homie gay ass goes out drinking. you get fucked up on some fruity cocktails he pays for and within a few rounds you’re draping your arms over him and stumbling over your own two feet. he takes you by the hand and leads you out to the truck and he has to buckle your seatbelt for you bc you’re too sloshed to do it yourself. while he’s driving you notice how thick his thighs are, how juicy his bulge looks in his jeans, so you just sorta… reach for him

and then he smacks your hand away.

“absolutely not. it’s a 15 minute drive home, control yourself.”

you pout and slump your head against the widow, but the authority in his voice is so sexy that you’ll begrudgingly obey. if you push your luck and act like a brat, you may be tucked into bed without getting fucked into the bed first. and that’s just unacceptable.

the longest 15 minutes of your life passes; joel’s pulling into the driveway. then he cuts the engine, gets out, and walks around to get your door. he even tries to unbuckle your seatbelt for you, but you just cling to him immediately

“daddy-y-y, carry me…”

he wants to say no, but fuck it, it’ll be easier than arguing with your drunk ass. plus there’s less chance of you tripping over your own shoelaces and snapping your neck on the pavement. so he lifts you up and carries you bridal style to the living room couch, where he unceremoniously plops you down.

“there. happy?”

“mhmmm, thank you, daddy~”

“yeah, yeah. but in return, you gotta do somethin’ for me, now.”

you’re already on your knees by the time his jeans are unzipped. he pulls his fat, heavy, tastefully musky and sweaty cock out of his boxers, so hard that it springs back up and slaps you on the chin

“suck.”

having been given the go ahead, you grab hold of him by his ass and spear his cock down your throat, lapping at his plump balls when you reach his base. you’re a sloppy mess in no time, gagging up thick spit that soaks your face and drips onto the carpet. you slather it all over his shaft and sack, and suck on each of his fat balls one at a time.

maybe you get greedy and try to sneak a finger up his ass.

and his reaction depends on how he’s feeling. if he wants to be mean he’ll slap you across the face for having the nerve to try that on him. or, the second you do it he’ll moan like a bitch and leak precum onto your tongue. he tries to muffle his sounds with his hand but it gets to be too much. he’s reaching over you and bracing himself on the back of the couch while he plows your throat deep. you slip another finger into his ass. he hisses,

“shit, shit, no, baby, ‘s too dry… wait…”

he pulls out of your throat and turns around, that juicy fucking ass of his right at eye level.

joel doesn’t even have to say anything before you plunge your tongue into his asshole.

maybe he should take you out drinking more often

[sheerfreesia007]

Song Bird

Pairing: Jeongin x Reader

Word count: 6,116

Content warnings: Arranged marriage, parental favoritism, cursing, suggestive, anger/rage

Summary: Jeongin only ever wants his parents’ approval but when he rarely gets it you’re there to help him through it and show him that you’re so proud of him either way. But when his need for approval becomes toxic for your marriage he begins to pull away and you’re left trying to pick up the pieces. Will his need drive a wedge between the two of you completely or will he be able to overcome his need and reunite with you?

Anger boiled within him as he stared down at the newspaper article while gripping it tightly in his hands. Yang family celebrates oldest son’s latest accolade, reads the headline as he violently shoves the paper away from with a sneer of disgust planted on his face. His envious eyes watched as the papers fluttered to the ground before laying still on the plush expensive carpet, it was just another reminder to him of how his parents favored his siblings.

Just last month there had been another article in the newspaper about his younger brothers accomplishment that his parents had celebrated proudly. And while both brothers had been recognized for things he felt were insignificant no one had acknowledged his company’s milestones. Someone had acknowledged it, whispered softly in his mind and his eyes darted over to the sleek silver plaque that you had purchased for him. 

The plaque was a very tastefully nicely made piece with all sharp lines and edges in silver with crisp black lettering telling of his most current milestone within the company. You had even put a picture of himself in front of the company building on the piece. He had been absolutely floored when you gave it to him at dinner the other night, you had been a little apprehensive to give it to him but he loved it and took such pride in the gift from you. He had even sent you a picture of it’s new home on his desk at the office.

But now as he stares at it with a hateful glare in his eyes all of that pride and happiness you had brought him was now hatred, disgust and resentment. His upper lip curls up into a vicious sneer once again just as his cell phone rings softly. Turning his head he immediately curbs the sneer on his face and grabs his cell phone before answering it. He presses his ear to the phone already knowing that you’re on the other line so he doesn’t say anything.

”Hi hun,” you greet him sweet and soft as if you’re treating him with soft gloves and he grits his teeth with disgust. He hates when you treat him like this, he’s not some young boy anymore who can’t handle a little press about his brother. “I saw the newspaper article and just wanted to check in on you. Make sure that you were okay.” You said softly sounding downtrodden and his lips curls once more, what do you have to be so down about?! You’re not the one being looked over by your parents! 

“I’m fine.” He says slowly as he exhales his held breath. There’s a pause on the other line and he knows that you don’t believe him, he knows that you have doubts about his ability to take this in stride. His fist clenches tightly on top of his glass pained desk as he waits for you to speak up.

”Good, I’m glad it’s not affecting you. You are so much above and beyond him in every way. I am so proud of you. I love you.” You say confidently through the phone and for a moment his warring emotions come to a calm within him at your words. Taking a deep breath in he never seems to understand how effectively you calm him whenever he gets like this. Your soft affirming words are like a cooling salve against him that causes him to almost melt into a warm soothed puddle. “What do you say to dinner tonight? My place? Pick up some wine and we can spend the evening just enjoying each other, no one else.” You suggest to him and he smirks wantonly at your words.

”Yeah? Wanna just enjoy each other?” He asks teasingly and you hum softly in that raspy voice that makes his brain buzz. He smiled softly as he let the little noise filter into his mind and coat his insides until he felt like he was floating in his chair. His eyes darted over his desk until they landed on your most recent picture together from one of your family’s events. You were dressed in a pretty sundress that had complimented your figure perfectly while being just enticing enough to him to keep his attention the whole event. 

He had been your betrothed since the two of you had graduated middle school and had been close family friends for years before that. The two of you knew each other like the backs of your hands and when you had both entered high school together your friendship had quickly morphed into something more romantic and intimate. The bond between the two of you grew throughout the years as you both went through college and then further for business school for him. You had always been so soft and sweet with him whenever you were both together, even when your relationship had morphed and changed after high school you were still sweet and soft with him. He had come to expect you to always go along with his plans and to support him in anyway you could. 

He had at one time viewed you as a pushover when you both were in highschool together. He had pushed his limits and your boundaries by flirting with another girl during a party and keeping her by his side the whole night. He had taken sick pleasure in watching your sharp eyes regard him with silent fury throughout the night and had even felt a thrill when you had turned your back to him at the end of the night when he still kept the poor girl on his arm while leaving. But when he got home that night after dropping the girl off at her house his parents had been waiting up for him with looks of sever disappointment on their faces. When they had told him that there were now talks of dissolving the betrothal between you two he had been absolutely shocked, you had stepped up in your own way against him and while he was sad that his little game had come to an end he had learned that you may a quiet force but you were not someone to mess with. And he took that lesson very seriously.

”So what do you say In? Wanna come over tonight?” You asked him seductively and he smirked softly through the phone.

”Don’t make any plans for tomorrow gorgeous. We’re gonna be busy for the rest of the weekend.” He answered huskily as your raspy laughter filtered through his ear.

*-*-*-*

The bright lights of the reception hall sparkled overhead and Jeongin smiled softly in pride of how beautiful everything looked. The wedding planning had at first been something that you were taking care of with your wedding planner but soon he had gotten involved in it after hearing some of the options your wedding planner had offered to you. He had felt that the options she had provided were subpar for what he truly wanted for your wedding. He had quietly kept it to himself at the time but he wanted to use the wedding as a way to catch and capture his parents attention about the two of you.

He wanted to be able to keep their attention solely on him for much longer than his brothers always garnered their attention. Jeongin knew that his parents loved him, it wasn’t something that they simply could do as his parents. They loved him as much as any parent could love their child but no matter what he did they always seemed to display for all to see their love and affection for his older and younger brother. It drove him nearly mad with rage whenever they publicly pronounced any accomplishment of his brothers’ over anything he could do. They weren’t as vocal about his accomplishments and it stung him a great deal.

Which he figured he shouldn’t have been surprised by your perceptive nature when you had pulled him aside during one of the venue tours and quietly told him that this was all too much for you and too overwhelming for what you wanted for your wedding. He had blinked at you quietly before throwing his arms out around the large ornately decorated ballroom as your lips twisted with distate. You had managed to talk him down to a venue that wasn’t as stuffy for your tastes but still impressive to capture his parents attention.

And as his eyes took in his parents gesturing animatedly as they talked to you about something he could see the pride shinging through their eyes. He slowly made his way behind you as his parents spotted him and smiled softly at him, he easily slipped his arms around your waist before tugging you back against his chest and caging you in. Your laughter rang in pretty bell like sounds and he smiled as he nuzzled his face into your neck to bite and nip at your skin.

”Innie!” You cried out delightedly as you tried to get away from his bites before you spun in his arms to cup his face. You leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his puckered lips before gesturing back to your parents. “Your parents were just telling me how proud they were of us for such a beautiful wedding ceremony and reception. They said they think it’s the best one they’ve been to so far.” You boasted and Jeongin beamed down at you before smiling happily at his parents.

”Thank you.” He said honestly as his heart swelled to epic proportions in his chest. He smiled happily at you before nuzzling his face into your neck once more as his parents watched the two of you lovingly.

”You made some good choices.” You whispered to him and he smirked at you before he gripped your sides in a tickle causing you to let out a delighted squeal.

”More like my all knowing wife knew when to put a leash on me.” He teased you darkly and you smirked softly at him as you cupped his face once more and pressed your lips hungrily to his.

”I’m pretty sure Seungmin got you that gag gift he was showing me last week. Had a nice studded collar and a long leather leash.” You husked out into his ear causing him to shiver at your implications. “Could add it to my collection.” You suggested sultrily as your index finger hooked around his stiff collar and tugged him close for another kiss. 

Jeongin chuckled darkly at your bravado as his hands settled heavily on your hips and began to guide you away from his parents. He nodded his head at them quickly as you laughed at his antics while trying to get him to stop. But Jeongin was now a mission as he quickly ushered you to the gift table already scanning to see where the most garish looking present was from Seungmin. He let out a victorious cry before grabbing the clashing colored gift and held it up as he turned to face Seungmin.

”Yours?” Called Jeongin to Seungmin who grinned wickedly at his best friend while his wife chuckled knowingly next to him as she shook her head softly. Jeongin saluted Seungmin silently before pulling you from the room as everyone cheered and jeered after the two of you. And once again you had managed to distract Jeongin from his parents ellusive approval and pride until all he thought about was you and him.

*-*-*-*

“In? Are you home babe?” You call out and Jeongin flinches slightly at your voice as he sits at his desk. Your heels click a sharp staccato that pierces his heart and grates across his ears as he takes a sip of his whiskey. You finally come into the doorway and he curls his lips at the soft look in your eyes. “Aww In. Are you okay?” You ask softly as you walk over to his side. You effectively shove the newspaper out of the way as you straddle his long legs and perch yourself on top of his desk. Your hands come up to gently take the glass from his fingers before taking a healthy swig from it then setting it down on his desk behind you.

He looks up at you with a challenging look in his eyes and you smile softly at him before leaning forward to press your lips to his upturned ones. Jeongin hungrily cards his hand through your hair and pulls you meanly against him in his lap as his lips devour yours without any warning. You yelp softly at his actions before trying to pull back but he doesn’t allow you as his lips slant against yours and he deepens the kiss.

”In slow down babe.” You gasp out at him after a moment and you manage to pull away from him enough to be able to slow his actions down. His lips slip down your neck to suck dark marks into your skin and you moan out above him. “In, In” you chant softly and he smirks darkly at how easily he’s able to reduce you to just his name. When he pulls harshly at your hair suddenly you cry out in pain and push your hands against his chest hard shoving him back into his desk chair. “In!” You snap angrily as you pant above him with a look of hurt and anger on your face.

Anger, hatred and resentment swirl within him as he glares at you and your mouth drops open slightly in shock. He can’t control his ugly emotions within him and knows that they are bleeding out to show you them. He doesn’t want to show you them but he can’t help it as glares at you.

”In, is this all from that damned article?” You ask softly and he grits his teeth angrily as he watches your eyes soften as you stare at him. He flinches away when your hand comes up to graze against his cheek and you blink at him surprised, he never flinched away from your touch. You were usually the one who was able to calm him down and distract him. Jeongin could feel something opening up between the two of you and he had a slight inkling that if he let it continue to opening up that he wouldn’t be able to ever close it.

Just as he began to blink away the anger and rage swirling within his body you shifted on his lap and brushed back against the desk effectively moving the newspaper further to the side for his eyes to catch on the headline. Yang family over the moon with their oldest son’s business proposal. Rage red hot like a poker lanced through his body and he stiffened underneath you in response, your shocked blinking eyes stared at him worriedly before your hands came to cup his face and force him to look at you.

”I love you In. Fully and completely, to the ends of the world.” You said in a whisper as your eyes stayed connected to his trying desperately to break through his anger. “I am so proud of you and everything that you’ve accomplished. You’ve done so well for so long and I’m so proud of you.” You whispered to him as your eyes dart from side to side trying to capture and connect with his own.

”It will never be enough for them.” He says softly in a lost sorrowful tone but you shake your head adamant.

”It’s enough for me. You are so much more than enough for me.” You insist and he shakes his head as the words just bounce off of him as the grip of his parents’ approval is too much for him to ignore. “In, please.” You plead with him but he huffs out a soft breath before he lifts you off his lap and stands from his desk chair. You look up at him with wide worried eyes and he shakes his head once more.

”I’m going to head into the office. I’ve got some more work that I need to get done.” He says softly and hollowly. “Don’t wait up for me.” He tells you softly before pressing a quick kiss to your temple and walks out of the room.

*-*-*-*

The dim hazy lights of the lounge barely reflect on Jeongin’s eyes as he makes his way through the hallways with some new business partners that he just started working with. The feel of the club is a rich dark noir vibe that catches his attention and holds it with all the deep jeweled toned colors splashed with black and gold. He idly wonders if this would be a place that you would enjoy going to with him.

With a deep sigh Jeongin is reminded of your soft pleading in his lap all those months ago. He had spent most of his time after that at the office tirelessly working away at any and every business deal that he could concoct. Oftentimes he wouldn’t make it home into well in the night when you were already peacefully dead to the world in slumber. Sometimes he wouldn’t even come home and just spend his time in the office.

It had been nearly five months since he last spent any significant time with you. All of your interactions were at family get togethers on either side of the family and you had always been so perfect at putting on a mask for him when he needed you to. Jeongin knew that you were hurt by his actions, all you ever needed was him and he was too caught up in his parents’ approval. He knew all he had to do was come home and just bask in the love and pride you held for him but he couldn’t allow himself to do that, it was just never enough for him unfortunately.

His mad chase of his parents’ approval and love had effectively shuttered you from his heart and life. He didn’t know if you would still be waiting for him with open arms or if you had put walls around that beautiful heart of yours. When he was alone in his office late at night he daydreamed about you, his heart called out brokenly to you over the distance but he never allowed it to be heard for very long in case you were listening for it.

While he had been cold, distant and shuttered away he had seen signs that you still cared for him. They weren’t the grand gestures that you had be known to do when you knew he was feeling more neglected than normal, but they were still small things to show that you still thought about him. His keys were always put back in their rightful place after he just dropped them wherever when he stumbled through the front door late at night. Or there was coffee and his travel mug freshly washed out waiting for him in the morning. And there were always leftovers in the fridge every night for whenever he was hungry after coming home. You were able to still show that you cared for him while giving him the space he requested, but he never was.

Just then the lights brightened as him and his partners entered the main area of the lounge and he smiled softly at the look of the place. You really would enjoy a place like this. His eyes darted over to the stage just as he watched a man dressed in a flashy emerald green suit vest with a crisp white button up shirt and sleek black pants walk out onto the stage and grabbed the large old fashioned microphone with a wicked grin.

”Well Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s that time of night. When our pretty little song bird comes out for one last song. Let’s give her a big welcoming greeting for one last time!” He called out to the crowd as applause, cheers and whistles all rang out through the air.

”Oh good! We didn’t miss her!” Said one of the partners excitedly as he quickly rushed to a booth and took a seat eagerly. Jeongin shook his head slightly as he chuckled at the man’s actions. He scoffed softly, a man getting all eager for a woman singing on stage to him, he couldn’t fathom himself ever getting like this for a woman. But Jeongin took a seat along with the remaining partners as they all told their drink order to the bottle girl standing near the table.

As the lights dimmed dramatically Jeongin chuckled again as the eager partner slapped the table before whistling loudly. The man is practically salivating over this mystery woman and Jeongin wonders how impressive she must be to garner this type of attention. Sitting back in the booth Jeongin eyes the stage critically as the music begins to play form the live jazz band, he can feel the anticipation rising in him and he hopes that this woman lives up to the hype as his eyes narrow onto the large spotlight in the middle of the stage.

His eyes are trained on the figure that steps out from behind the curtain just as the whistles and cheers turn up in volume. She’s dressed in an older era dress that fits her like a glove and looks like it’s made from rich royal purple velvet, her legs are hidden from the tight dress that tapers down to her slender ankles and shiny black pumps. When she tilts her head back she cheekily slings the wide brimmed purple hat from her head to the man who announced her earlier as whistles blare out once more.

But it’s her face that captures and steals Jeongin’s full attention. It’s you. You’re standing up there boldly without any reservations as you begin to belt out a haunting love song about a love that you lost years ago. Jeongin sits ramrod straight in his seat as his eyes never leave your sauntering frame as you move across the stage. Not once during your set do you make any inappropriate advances towards your admirers but all the same Jeongin can not curb the molten rage that fills him as he watches you.

When you were younger you had loved to sing and would often sing at family events, you had such a a lovely singing voice that he couldn’t blame you for wanting to share it with the world. But now as he watches you soulfully sing to your heart’s content on stage he can’t feel anything besides unbridled rage. You’ve been keeping this a secret from him! You were here at this lounge singing for who knows how many men until they salivated over you! God forbid if his parents’ ever learned about this he’d never measure up in their eyes ever again?!

Taking a large gulp of his drink when the glass was set on the table he didn’t bother to wait much longer before he surged from his seat and stalked to the back stage area. It was relatively easy for him to enter the backstage area once he let the bouncer know that you were his wife and he wanted to surprise you for the first time.

”Yeah, she always talks about you man. Always worried that you’d never show up if she told you about this.” The bouncer told him honestly and Jeongin nodded his head while silently eyeing the area not even listening to the words of the bouncer. “She loves to sing man, always going on how she used to sing for you all the time until you both got too old for it. You can wait for her in her dressing room if you’d like, she’s almost done.” The bouncer suggested but Jeongin shook his head as he stood towards the back of the area with his arms crossed over his chest.

When you finally make it back stage you’re flushed in the face and your eyes sparkle with happiness and excitement. You greet the others back stage sweetly with kind words of thanks as you smile and nod your head at them when they praise you. But your feet come to a halt and the smile dies on your lips when your eyes connect with Jeongin’s heated pair. 

“In!” You cry out happily quickly masking your surprise at seeing him as you stumble closer to him. His lips curls up in a sneer as his hand comes out and grips your arm tightly pulling you close to his body so that he can hiss into your ear.

”What the fuck is this shit?!” He hisses and you wince slightly at his tight grip on you.

”Just singing In.” You say dejectedly and he grits his teeth in anger.

”Just singing?” He hisses out dangerously and tugs you a step into him making you stumble slightly on your feet. “What if my parents’ got word of this huh?” He hisses against your ear and you flinch away from him. “I’d never hear the end of it! We’d be an absolute disgrace to the family!” He hisses hateful at you and when he sees your eyes widen as tears begin to pool in them he can hear the soft nagging voice in the back recesses of his mind. Do not hurt the one person who loves you.

”In please-“ you begin to plead softly with him trying to draw within yourself to make yourself look smaller in the face of his anger. And suddenly Jeongin’s anger starts to disapate with your self-soothing actions until someone walks over with a worried look on his face.

”Song Bird, is everything okay?” Comes the voice of the man who announced you earlier and Jeongin’s eyes catch quickly on the man’s hands that seem to be a little too familair with touching your arm softly.

”It’s fine Hongjoong. My husband came by to see me sing for once.” You say with a fake bright smile and Jeongin feels a quiet snap within his brain before he’s sneering angrily at you as his eyes narrow to near slits.

”Hongjoong? Do you know him?” He spits out angrily in your face and you flinch back a step towards Hongjoong who effortlessly lifts his hands to steady you. “Are you cheating on me with him?!” Jeongin snaps loudly and your eyes widen to near saucers at his outburst before your head begins to shake from side to side hurriedly.

”Jeongin! Of course I’m not cheating on you with him! I love you, you’re my husband!” You shout in surprise at him but he’s already shaking his head with his lip still curled. Anger courses through him as he glares at you before he steps close up into your face pointing his index finger at you menacingly.

”Well consider yourself divorced!” He hisses viciously at you and watches as your face pales at his words. “I won’t dirty the Yang name with a cheater!” He hisses hurtfully and tears begin to fall from your eyes. He nods his once, twice and a third time before he growls low in his throat and stalks out of the back stage area leaving you there after his outburst. He can feel his heart twisting and turning within his chest but he stoically ignores it as he continues his trek out of the lounge. He makes a familiar decision to head back to the office and there he boldly calls his lawyer late in the night.

*-*-*-*

The next couple of days are disjointed for Jeongin as he tries to keep his mind focused while at the office but often he’d find himself clouded and lost during work hours. His lawyer had quickly drawn up divorce paperwork and had it delivered to you the next day while you were at your own job. Jeongin hadn’t meant for it to happen that way, he hadn’t wanted to make it something public but there had been a mix up between his divorce papers and another clients’ paperwork, effectively the two being swapped and your divorce was now public knowledge.

You hadn’t contacted him at all since the night at the lounge and Jeongin knew that you hadn’t spent a night in the apartment since the night he left you at the lounge. His head maid had called him the day you left and told him that you had packed all of your things quickly before leaving. When he went home that night he had found your engagement and wedding ring waiting for him on his desk. That image of the two rings that you had loved and cherished so much just sitting there on his desk waiting for him had thrown him into a dark spiral. 

But he couldn’t blame you, he had done this. The day after he threatened divorce and had made moves to complete his threat he had heard how hard you had taken his threat. You had stopped going to the lounge and cut all ties with anyone that worked in the lounge. You had given up your dream of singing once more for him and that fact ate away at him. You had gone back to living with your parents and they helped you weather the storm of your divorce becoming public knowledge. He had watched from the sidelines as you withdrew even further on yourself and opted out going out to any events in public.

You were becoming a whisper of yourself and while Jeongin sat on the sidelines beating himself up over his actions he couldn’t stop them. He wouldn’t stop them no matter how much it’d make the two of you happier if he did. His parents’ had ate up his story of you cheating on him with Hongjoong at the lounge and they had ran with it telling anyone and everyone who would listen. They cursed your name as they folded him back into the family life and welcomed with soft warm arms. He finally felt fulfilled as his parents doted him with love, affection and pride. But when he caught glimpses of you in the gossip magazines as you tried to navigate the lies that were being spread about you his heart would crack another long spider like fissure.

*-*-*-*

The large over plush leather chair is uncomfortable against his back as he tries to settled himself into it. The large polished oak conference table sits in the middle of the room like a large mirror with how much polish has been rubbed into it. His eyes dart to the expensive watch on his wrist as it ticks almost silently.

Suddenly the conference room doors open and his head lifts swiftly. The mediator stands silently and holds out his hand to greet your lawyer before kindly greeting you as well. His eyes can’t seem to lift from you when he gets his first look. You’re hauntingly stunning, your hair is pulled back away from your face as if you’re no longer scared to show it. Your makeup is done in a soft natural look that tries not to draw any attention to you but his eyes drink you in with thirst. You’re dressed in a simple business suit but his eyes pick up on the way it hangs on you as if you’ve lost weight during your time apart. His heart violently lurches against his rib cage when you don’t make eye contact with him or acknowledge him at the table. You simply move around the table and take a seat next to your lawyer and settle there quietly as you rest your hands over each other on the table. 

“So this should be relatively easy to get through. With both prenups already in affect I don’t expect any assets to be exchanged. This is all just a bit of a formality.” His lawyer says softly and Jeongin watches as you nod your head while watching his lawyer silently. “I’ll have you sign first. Everything has been reviewed by both lawyers and nothing has been changed since the last meeting.”

Jeongin watches silently as you nod your head once more before accepting the paperwork from your lawyer and sign your name with a flourish before sliding it back over. Jeongin’s stomach drops heavily like a lead weight as his eyes stay focused on your hands that are now placed over each other after signing. It had been that easy for you to accept his foolish decision. Dread fills him as the paperwork slides across his eyesight and he picks up his pen before darting his eyes over to you.

He sucks in a harsh breath as your eyes stare focused and determinedly at him with a sharp almost critical look in them. He watches as your eyes harden slightly when they connect with his and you bite the inside of your lower lip. It’s almost as if you’re torturing yourself to watch him sign away this part of your life, as if you need to watch him do this to believe he actually meant it. With a shaky breath he looks down and hurriedly signs the paperwork as well.

His stomach bottoms out when he looks up and sees the tears pooling in your eyes. But suddenly you’re blinking and rising from your chair with your lawyer. You nod your head at his lawyer and the mediator before rushing out of the room with a swift movement, leaving him to deal with the clean up of his mess. You never spoke one word to him in the whole meeting and he wonders if that was for the better. Would he have survived listening to your soft raspy voice one more time?

*-*-*-*

“Mei, would you be a sweetheart and put on the television? There’s this new show that the women in my book club are all raving about.” Mrs. Yang calls out as she finishes making popcorn in the kitchen. Jeongin watches as Mei, his wife, moves around the sofa he’s sitting on to grab the remote before settling back against his side. He smiles tiredly down at her as she cuddles close to him before resting her head on his shoulder, the heavy weight of her head making his skin itch slightly.

”What channel?” Mei calls out over her shoulder as she begins to flick through the channels in a bored manner. But just as there is a quick flash of deep emerald on the screen Jeongin quickly reaches out for the remote causing Mei to call in surprise. He ignores her as he hurriedly puts the channel back on and feels his heart shatter in his chest.

There you are dressed in a beautiful royal purple sequined gown belting out an uplifting love song about finally finding the one true man who could appreciate you. His eyes are transfixed on you as he watches your neck stretch out with the power of your voice and he lets his mouth drop open in shock. You look so beautiful that it steals his breath from him as he drinks you in. You look refreshed and happy as you continue singing that it commands his attention and he completely forgets that he’s in his mother’s living room sitting with his wife curled up on his side. He’s finally seeing once more two years after he let you go foolishly and he can’t help but feel the euphoric rush wash over him.

But suddenly that all comes crashing down when the camera pans out to a wider angle and he sees Hongjoong gazing at you lovingly as he joins in on your love duet. Jeongin feels his insides turn to cement instantly and he feels the air rush out of him in a harsh breath. Just as he’s about to change the channel once more his mother stops him.

”Oh! I had hoped she had made it this far. Her singing voice was always so beautiful.” His mother said pleasantly surprised as she rested a hand on his shoulder softly. “It’s such a shame that you two hadn’t been able to make it work together. She was always such a bright spot in your life.” She said wistfully before she walked around the couch to sit on Jeongin’s other side as the music show program continued to play. Jeongin sat there stunned at his mother’s words and her almost cruel dismissal of his divorce.

But the true cruel dismissal of him was the way you and Hongjoong happily continued singing to each other before sharing a sweet chaste kiss on stage after the last ending notes of the music.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

Hi! For the ficlet prompts: For Tarlos: 🫶🏻 Breakfast date For BuckTommy: 🛏️ There's only one bed, and it's… a single (or broken? Like sunken down in the center or something. Whichever option sparks joy. 😂)

There's only one bed, and it's a single

A few weeks into their relationship, Buck wonders why Tommy still hasn't invited him over to his house. Somehow, they always seem to end up in the loft, apart form that one memorable date that ended in the 118's locker room – he’s still proud of himself for keeping his mouth shut about it the next day, even though his face probably screamed „ask me what happened last night“. Anyway, Tommy often just turns up at his door or picks him up from work and drives to the loft as a matter of course, and for a while Buck thinks it's just because he likes his place so much. It's tastefully furnished, right? And since he owns a couch again, Star Wars movie nights with Tommy next to him are much nicer.

It's just... Eddie had been so enthusiastic about Tommy's house, the garage, the dōjō; and Buck – Tommy’s boyfriend, mind you – hasn’t even seen a glimpse of all that. There are, of course, many possible explanations for this. Maybe Tommy’s a slob and it's always untidy (Eddie didn't mention this), or he's ashamed of his furniture (Eddie didn't mention this) or he's currently renovating (nope, not a word about that from Eddie). Either these made-up motives are as silly as they sound in Buck's head, or the real reason is him. Both could be true. 

One evening, after a very good dinner (it's perfectly acceptable to praise yourself, Buck thinks, especially after receiving top cooking honors from Bobby), it's time to grab the bull by the horns. 

“We're gonna sleep at your house tonight,” he says.

Tommy sets his glass down, blinks and replies, “We’ve basically just arrived at your place, Evan.”

"Right, but you’re staying overnight at my place about three times a week.“

“Didn't have the feeling that it was too much,” says Tommy with a wink.

Buck is melting away. This man has such a magnetic effect... But not this time, he swears to himself. He's let this slide long enough. If there's one thing he's learned, it's that problems should be addressed. This one isn't necessarily a problem, but it's a little oddity that has piqued his curiosity. And perhaps it also scratches his ego a little.

“No, I love it when you're here,” he says, feeling his cheeks flush. “But Eddie keeps telling me about your house and...”

“What is Eddie doing in this conversation now?” 

Tommy sounds genuinely confused, and he can't blame him. Buck takes a deep breath. 

“I want to see how you live.”

That's not quite the right approach, but at least Tommy smiles his adorable smile, which makes his face go all scrunchy. His answer, however, is not an exuberant “okay, let's get going”. Instead, he says, “That's sweet, but I'm rarely at home. It’s actually not that exciting.”

Somehow, it is, at least it starts getting annoying; Buck's curiosity is hard to tame when he believes he's discovered some kind of riddle. While it’s certainly exciting to see that there still are some things about Tommy that remain mysterious to him, his house shouldn't be on the top list of sweet secrets he holds. 

“I’m getting a vibe that you don't want me there, Tommy.”

“It's not like that.”

“Then what is it? Do you have any porn magazines lying around? Don't you want me to see your underwear drawer?”

“Evan...”

“Are there pictures of your ex-boyfriends on the walls?” Now Buck is on a roll. “Do you collect tasteless art? Is your house just too small for two people to be comfortable?”

“Evan,” Tommy groans. Wide-eyed, Buck glares at him, until Tommy finally exhales loudly and adds, “Yeah, it's too small. You're not going to give it a rest, are you?“

“My therapist says I should talk about my feelings. And there's no one I'd rather do that with than you, Tommy, and right now... well. Honestly, it's driving me crazy.”

“All right,” goes Tommy, getting up and taking his hand, ”there's no point in delaying it any longer anyway. Come with me. We're going to my place – but whether you want to sleep there remains to be seen.”

That, of course, was an even more mysterious answer, but Buck jumps to his feet immediately.

From the outside, Tommy's house looked neither particularly small nor large. The most remarkable thing about the single-storey, flat-roofed building was probably that it stood in the middle of a terraced housing estate in the suburbs. It wasn't an area Buck would have associated with Tommy, and there was probably a story behind it that he was eager to hear one day. 

Inside, it was just as unremarkable. This was the house of a single man who often did 24-hours-shifts and also had very excessive hobbies that made him leave the house quite often. In other words, a comparatively interchangeable place. Eddie hadn't mentioned anything about that either, he'd probably been blinded by the flights to Vegas and the garage. There were no photos of ex-boyfriends on the walls, no obvious porn movies in the impressive DVD collection, no tasteless art; there weren't even any potted plants, “I just don't have a green thumb,” says Tommy. 

“I don't understand why you didn't already show me your house,” Buck says, a little disappointed that he still couldn't solve the puzzle.

“Hm,” Tommy utters, and it sounds almost apologetic. He wraps his arms around Buck and adds, “You're here now.”

„Yes, and I forgot a change of clothes. You’re gonna have to lend me some tomorrow.“

“You're really determined to spend the night here?”

“You bet,” Buck says, his eyes roaming the room, ”show me your bedroom and I'll show you how determined I am.”

“Then get ready for a cold shower,” Tommy returns, taking Buck's hand and leading him further into his house. 

The door opened to another plain, rather functionally furnished room with a built-in wardrobe, a second door that probably led to the bathroom, a large window without any curtains and virtually no accessories. Then Buck’s gaze falls on the bed, and his jaw drops.

“Well, I told you it was small...”

“I thought you meant your house.”

It was the bed. A narrow, single bed. It wasn't an unusual place to sleep, of course; millions of bedrooms were furnished like this. Buck just couldn't understand why anyone would voluntarily give up the comfort of a kingsize when they were tall and beefy like his adorable boyfriend with the very embarrassed look on his face. 

“W-wait a minute. Is that why we always spent the night at my place? Because you’re sleeping in... this crib?”

“Hey, I like this bed,” Tommy replies, grimacing. “It's just not a good place for two. Hold on, what were you thinking, Evan?“

“Well, for a while I thought you just liked my shower...”

“... it's an excellent shower, I must say.”

"Well, to be honest, I thought it’s not that important to you."

Tommy looks intently at his face, shaking his head. 

“Did you seriously think you weren't important enough for me? I thought we had clarified that point by now. And for once, I'm not talking about the excellent sex, honey.“

"Which would be … not that comfortable in that bed," Buck says when the penny finally drops. “Adorable, Tommy. As if the kitchen table wasn't enough for us.”

“But would you want to sleep on it?”

“Good point,” Buck mutters. “We really can't both fit in the bed.”

“Gonna be tough. And… actually, I really prefer your shower.“

“I'll probably have to talk to the landlord about the water consumption.”

"Well, we don’t need to move together so soon," Tommy argues. “But you could help me buy a bigger bed, how about that?”

“Excellent,” says Buck. “But we have to be sure it’s too small for the things I’d love to do with you.”

He pushes the surprised Tommy onto the bed with a casual nudge.

“Fine,” Tommy replies with a grin before closing Buck's mouth with a kiss, ”but we're sleeping at your place tonight.”

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

Thank you for the adorable prompt, @herrmannhalsteadproduction. I'm gonna need to skip the Tarlos one because I'm running out of spare time, but this was fun 😂❤️

[honorarysimp]

New York State of Mind

series masterlist

day 1

New York City.

The city that never sleeps is winding down for the night, the hustle and bustle of the day giving way to a softer, quieter atmosphere. The reflection of the sunset on the glass windows of the buildings creates a mesmerizing display of light and color, dancing across the streets below. Here and there people still move about, making their way home from work or heading out for the evening.

The city seems to be taking a moment to breathe, enjoying this brief interlude of peace as lastcasting warm orange glows across the towering skyscrapers.

You’re exhausted. Dog tired. It took two days to get from California to New York, taking into account all the pit stops for varying reasons, both of you catching some sleep at the hotel stop half way through. But god, it’s good to be back home, and you realize this as you maneuver the car through traffic.

Tara is asleep in the passenger seat, one of your hoodies tucked underneath her head as a makeshift pillow, her knees pulled up to her chest as she remains blissfully unaware of reality.

You hate to wake her, because even though you’re use to the traveling and driving, Tara is not.

But she threatened your life prior to her falling asleep, insisting you do so she could take in the city for the first time.

You reach over and rest a hand on her arm, thumb gently trying to coax her awake, “hey, you’re gonna miss sunset” you says gently, which earns you a sleepy grumble as she swats your hand away blindly.

That makes you laugh, sitting back into your seat just as Tara sits up and stretches, running her fingers through her hair as she blinks the remnants of slumber from her dazed mind.

“What-“

Instantly she falls quiet, now fully awake as she peers through the window.

Tara takes in the sight of the bright orange disk of the sun is slowly making its descent from the sky, the light making a warm and bright atmosphere as it shone all throughout the city. It bounced off the reflective windows, casting streaks across the buildings. The light was getting dimmer by the minute, the clouds gaining a more pinkish hue as the sun got closer to disappearing behind the skyline.

Shadows were starting to fill the alleys and crevices as the sun continued its slow journey towards the horizon, the air turning increasingly colder with the dimming of its light.

“Holy shit”.

“Welcome to New York” you say quietly, not giving much attention to the buildings anymore as you instead, take in her awed expression.

The drive to your place is about as quick as you expected, the traffic is something you didn’t miss. But Tara seems happy, watching and soaking in everything. It is a lot, after all, so you don’t blame her.

You only relax once you get the car into the parking garage, the both of you in a daze as you head for the elevator.

“Fuck the bags, we’ll get them later” was all Tara had to say for you to agree without question. It’s a fairly safe area, you’d like to think, but then again you’ve learned nothing is ever as it seems.

But you’re far too tired to give a shit right now.

So when you make it to your apartment, you unlock the door and let Tara walk inside first. Instinctively you kick your shoes off and head down the little hall that leads to the rest of your apartment, only, Tara is paused at the opening.

The apartment is a nice size for New York standards, with bare white walls and open spaces, and a large window that extended from the ceiling to floor. The city skyline was visible from the window, the sun setting on the horizon to the west. The apartment was tastefully furnished, but there was not any personal touches anywhere in it. It was a nice, but slightly cold and sterile, living space.

“In my defense, I moved in here two months before I left for Woodsboro” you mumble sheepishly, coming up behind her and wrapping your arms around her waist. Tara hums, instantly sinking back into you, and when her head drops back to your shoulder you can’t help but rest your own against hers.

“It’s yours, so it’s perfect”.

You smile, taking a step forward while keeping her in your arms, Tara automatically follows as you guide her to the bedroom.

“Tour later. Sleep now.”

Tara yawns, but smiles softly after, “you better be showing me to the guest bedroom”.

“Unfortunately, there’s only my bed here, I hope that won’t inconvenience you.”

You don’t even bother turning on the light, the last streaks of orange and red giving you just enough visibility to make out the outline of the mattress. To which, Tara promptly drops down on to, pulling you with her. You hear two soft thumps before Tara curls herself against you, probably her shoes hitting the hardwood floor.

“Fuck, don’t wake me up for two days” Tara mumbles as her hand slips under your shirt, fingers curling around your side as she tugs you closer. You exhale and wrap your arms around her, sleep already pulling at your consciousness.

“Hibernation sounds nice” you reply quietly, falling asleep to the sound of her breaths evening out, and the warmth of her body against yours.

Not even the city that never sleeps could keep you awake, the final streams of light dissipating and leaving the room in a comforting darkness.

day 3

The city is vast, it’s loud, and it’s busy.

A contrast to what Tara is use to, having spent most her life in Woodsboro, not even when she went to the city to get her EMT certification compares to this.

God, but she is loving this kind of chaos.

It was overwhelming at first, but seeing you move through the streets and around people like second nature, switching between holding her hand or having your arm around her.

It’s hard not to feel giddy, and Tara hates it, because she is not that kind of girl.

You’ve made plans to go sightsee today, a few marker spots that Tara finds herself genuinely excited for. The tallest building in the country, Central Park, Time Square to name a few.

But when you bring Tara into what you’ve named your “favorite coffee shop in the world”, she suddenly finds herself thinking this is already going to be her favorite pace you’ve taken her. And it’s not even a highlight tourist go-to.

It’s a hole in the wall cafe, spacious on the inside, and it’s got this… energy that instantly has Tara feeling homesick. But in a good way, it makes her smile as her eyes take in the interior.

The coffee shop is a cozy space with walls painted a dark green color. The wooden floor darkly stained, and the furniture a mix of darkly varnished oak and wrought iron. The walls were lined with dark wooden bookshelves, the air thick with the aromatic scent of freshly ground coffee.

The coffee bar itself was a long, gleaming counter, filled with a variety of coffee beans and a vintage espresso machine. The wall behind it lined with a variety of coffee beans and a menu with an array of coffee drinks. The ambiance was a mix of soft and intimate, with low lighting and a warm and inviting atmosphere.

The sound of steamers, coffee being ground, and soft music filled the air. Soft yellow lighting illuminated the space, casting a homey glow in the coffee shop.

Tara is in love.

Approaching the bar, the barista behind the counter instantly lights up at the sight of you.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes! Back in town for a bit?” the barista asks with a wide, familiar smile, which makes Tara look between you in curiosity.

“Showing my girlfriend around, had to bring her by” you say with a proud smile, your eyes finding hers, a subtle squeeze of your fingers that are laced between hers makes her chest ache pleasantly.

The barista then looks to Tara kindly, “first time in New York?”

That makes Tara flush, but she tries to play it off with a shrug as she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear “yeah, you could say that”.

“Well whatever you want, it’s on the house, as usual” the barista says with a nod, already grabbing a cup and writing down what Tara is safe to assume - your usual.

It’s only after Tara gives her order, followed by a thank you, when she looks to you in bewilderment.

“On the house? As usual? Do I even want to ask?”

You lean in, giving her hand a small tug, which has her meeting you half way for a soft lingering kiss.

“I know the owner is all”.

“Friend of yours?”

“We’re practically family”.

day 4

The kitchen table is scattered with Polaroids of Tara, a variety of location and purpose.

Tara thought it a good idea, you were quick to claim it as yours.

The sweetest melody filled the apartment, in time with the steadfast and deliberate movement of your tongue.

One of the photos is her in the passenger seat of your car, water bottle raise to her lips as she smiles around the rim, pretending not to notice. It’s the first of them all, if you remember correctly.

Syrup tasting of the sweetest nectar coats your tongue as it parts through soft flesh, a soft thump of something solid against hard wood can be heard. But muffled by the warmth on either side of your head.

Another photo, Tara standing with one arm up, hand blocking the sun from her eyes as she stands amongst the Great Salt Lake Desert. Still, you’re not sure why she insisted you stop, but you’ve learned to never deny her.

Fingers thread through your hair, those black painted nails gently scraping in a silent gesture of encouragement. Your lips caress fruit forbidden, gently sucking and rolling your tongue in turn, the pressure around your head increases. But even then, you distinctly hear her voice raise an octave.

Your favorite photo by far is from Chicago, Illinois. Of all places, there is where a butterfly had grown fond of Tara, her hands gently cupped together as it perches on her thumb. Those pretty orange and yellow wings don’t compare to that awed smile that graces her lips.

Like biting into a peach, your head spins as ambrosia fills your mouth just as she goes taut and rigid, beautiful symphony surpassing its apex and shifting into a slur of curses and garbled swears.

The most recent one, in New York, is simply Tara gazing up with lights of all colors reflecting in those captivating brown eyes. It’s night, on Time Square, and you’re fairly certain this is the only photo she didn’t see you take.

You savor, relish, linger, as long as she needs until she’s completely undone. And as you withdrawal, a smile tugs at your lips.

Amongst the photos is Tara herself, splayed out across your table, flustered and panting and the prettiest haze in her eyes. When they find yours, she automatically mirrors your smile, which has you leaning forward.

Her fingers part from your hair in opt of tenderly cupping your jaw, shakily leaning up off the table just enough to meet you for a messy, but intimate kiss. And when her tongue glides against your bottom lip, you part them just so she will understand why you’ve grown addicted to the taste of her.

This table, a momentary alter, for the woman you’d die for. The woman you surrender yourself to. The woman that is everything to you.

“I love you” you whisper against her lips, an oath, devotion.

You feel her smile, her nose softly nuzzling yours just as her thumb delicately traces your cheekbone, “I love you”.

To you she is a goddess, and you, worshiper.

day 5

“Yeah, no, you’re kidding yourself if you think you’re fucking going anywhere”.

It’s far too amusing watching you in a panic, tearing the cushions off the couch as you search for your tape recorder.

You’d gotten an email for a “quick job” at the precinct, to assist on a case currently underway, as you so vaguely put. So naturally when you stepped out of the room, Tara swiped it and hid it.

You’ll never leave without it, and thus, gives Tara the time she needs to remind you of all the reasons you won’t be leaving.

Not to mention, Tara is determined to win this. “You promised this two weeks would be about us” she points out, crossing her arms and pinning you with a glare you haven’t noticed yet.

“I can’t say no to work” you say once more, ducking down to look under the couch.

“Yes you can, it’s so simple. It’s literally one vowel”.

“Tara it’s work, it’s what pays-“

“Don’t you bullshit me, I know for a fact Sidney overcompensated you, so you’d better have a plausible fucking excuse for trying to abandon me.”

It’s a low blow, but it gets Tara the reaction she wants.

That makes you sit up, and from where Tara is standing she has to force herself to keep a straight face. As the way your head pops up just over the top of the couch with that look of irritation, only amuses her further.

“Where is it Tara” you say as you stand, your tone unyielding as you begin to crawl over the couch.

“Up your ass, is where” Tara counters, circling the couch before you can reach her.

“Babe-“

“Don’t ‘babe’ me, you’ve been revoked of your title until you promise me you aren’t going.”

A stare off ensues, your hands gripping the back of the couch as she stands opposite of you, arms still crossed. You’re breaking, fighting back a smile, and Tara is far better with her poker face than you.

“You’re. Not. Going.”

“I have to work, I can’t just say no” you sigh, shoulders starting to deflate, which is a signal to Tara she’s most definitely got you right where she wants you.

“Yes you can” Tara says as she uncrosses her arms, walking forward and dropping to her knees on the couch in front of you, purposefully looking up at you under hooded eyes and smiling softly, “like this”.

And in one swift movement, Tara tilts her head up and kisses you slowly. Her hands curl into the fabric of your shirt, tugging you forward gently. Seducing, enticing, whatever you want to call it. You aren’t leaving.

And from the way you lean forward into her, letting her tug you over the couch and down on to the messily placed cushions, you know it too.

“You’re a bad influence” you say quietly, she silences you by grazing her teeth against your bottom lip.

“Come on, work can wait” Tara runs her hands up your chest, her fingers loosely curling around the back of your neck as she pulls back just enough to meet your gaze.

“You’re seriously going to leave me here, alone, in your apartment without you? When I came all this way just for you?”

Hook, and sinker.

Tara sees the fight to hold yourself responsible shatter, especially when she knows how much you can’t argue against her statement.

“Fuck, okay, yeah you’re right” you sigh, your head dropping to her shoulder.

Tara doesn’t even try to stifle her triumphant laugh, tugging you down to lay next to her as she blindly reaches for the remote. The item hastily discarded on the floor in your search for your tape recorder.

Which, you seem to have completely forgotten about, no thanks to Tara.

You will reap minor consequences later, but fuck it, Tara wins.

day 6

“Please don’t laugh, this is serious, Tara”.

She bites her lip, watching you carefully as you shift from the countertop by the sink to the adjacent one next to the stove, you’re just so goddamn endearing.

It’s hard not to watch you these days, the little mannerisms you have as you fidget about. Especially when you’re cooking. The way you pop your knuckles amidst a temporary pause, train of thought escaping you.

The way your tongue sticks out just the slightest from the right corner of your mouth when you’re concentrating far too hard. That subtle small smile that tugs at your lips as your hands move with practiced fluidity.

Tara wishes she could say she was paying attention to what you’re saying, what you’re doing, but she pretty much tuned out after you told her this was a recipe your best friend’s mom had taught you back in your adolescence.

It’s not her fault she finds you captivating when you’re just being yourself, you’re definitely talking to her and she’s definitely offering a small nod of acknowledgement here and there.

Only when you swipe a bit of sauce on to your finger and offer it to her, does Tara snap out of her thoughts. Recoiling back a from where her chin had been rested on her balled fists, elbows slipping off the counter.

“Oh god no, I don’t know where those fingers have been” Tara says as she makes a face, which only makes you let out a belly laugh that causes Tara’s heart to flutter.

“Tara you know exactly where these fingers have been” you say with innuendo, giving her an expectant look as you offer the sample of sauce gathered on your finger.

“Exactly.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes playfully and stepping away, bringing your finger to your own mouth “I did wash them before I started cooking, not that it matters”.

Tara bites back a smile, she can’t help it, its habit. But god it’s hard when you’re always doing the most mundane or stupidest shit that has her fighting off the involuntary action.

Just as you’re filling both plates with pasta and what you call “garlic bread”, Tara told you butter and garlic salt on toast doesn’t count, she decides to approach a topic she’s been trying to find a way to address in the most subtle way possible.

Then again, Tara has never been good at that.

“Baby I love you, but I need human interaction, preferably with the people that love you”.

The sudden statement has you pausing, looking over to her with an expression that’s a mixture of emotions.

“You’ve got me, isn’t that enough?” You say with a half smile as you continue scooping pasta on to the plates.

Expected of you, that tiptoe of a reply. You’re good at it and Tara gives you props, but she knows if she asks straightforward that you won’t be able to tell her no. Only she doesn’t want to have to ask, because that’s not the point.

The point should be that you want to introduce her to the people in your life. But you’re hesitant, why Tara still isn’t sure, however considering her relationship with her own parents. Tara is the last to judge.

“You’re more than enough, but it’s my turn to know you. Is that so hard to believe?”

That makes you pause, and this is one of those moments Tara finds herself prideful with how well she’s learned to read you. How you register she’s throwing your own words back at you, the smile that breaks out across your face tells her it all.

“Okay. I’m hearing you. You’re right” you sigh softly, doing that thing where you square your shoulders when you’re getting serious, “how about tomorrow? It’s a weekend day? I’m sure everyone will be free”.

It’s this moment that Tara’s excitement instantly shifts into dread as she realizes she’s actually going to meet the people that matter to you. Your people.

Now, Tara is a people person, she deals with people all the time with what she does for a living. The hardest of them to the most broken.

But this? This terrifies her, and even when you lean in to press the softest of kisses to her temple, her insides churn uneasily.

What if they don’t approve?

Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a wine bottle popping, making Tara’s eyes snap over to where you’re pouring two glasses. You offer her one, to which she gladly takes, a soft clink following the two glasses meeting. That fucking smile gets her every time. So full of love.

And then Tara comes to a second realization, that she doesn’t care.

Because having you? Tara needs nothing more.

day 7

You’d think for a Saturday, the pub would be packed.

The pub itself is a cozy and lively space, with a warm and inviting atmosphere. It’s larger than a typical small town bar, with a bar on one end and a few round tables scattered around the space. The walls were painted a deep red color, and the floor was made of dark wood. Soft, warm lighting cast from lights woven through the wooden rafters along the ceiling, and a small corner of the space was set up with a pool table. Chatter and laughter fills the space as a handful of patrons mill about drinking.

Tara can say with pride she’s finally met three of your childhood friends.

So far, Anika is her favorite. She’s full of life, positivity, and an abundance of embarrassing stories from your younger years. You two banter back and forth like siblings, your incessant desire to remind her you’re two months older. Anika quick to remind you who made sure you actually took care of yourself so that you somewhat functioned like a normal human being.

Tara doesn’t even try to hide her smile.

Ethan is quiet, but not in a bad way, more of a wallflower. His comments are an attempt to insert himself into conversation, Tara takes note of the way you always give his shoulder a reassuring pat paired with a wide smile. How he eases, his discomfort by the public space alleviating.

To balance the group, is Quinn, the wild card. From observation Tara can tell she’s the polar opposite of her brother Ethan. When she isn’t eyeing any man or woman she considers attractive that walks into the pub, the redhead is assessing Tara with a subtle smirk. A flirt through and through without question. She’s charismatic, quick witted, and a bit air headed.

The dynamic works, oddly enough, and Tara lives for it. Being present, seeing you with your friends, and she can tell how much they care for you. It’s clear you’ve all been through a lot together, which only deepens her curiosity on your past further.

You don’t talk about it, this is the closest taste to understanding what makes you who you are that Tara has ever come.

But that’s a question for another time, perhaps in the privacy of just the two of you.

When your laughter rings out, full of warmth and from your belly, Tara’s smile softens. You look so happy, so complete, and when your eyes meet she has one simple thought.

Tara is completely, stupidly, in love with you.

She isn’t sure when she fell, and it’s not like she didn’t already figure as much, but it’s without a doubt now.

And then comes the question she’d been waiting for all night.

“So how did you two meet?” it’s Ethan that asks, boyish grin and curiosity in his expression.

You and Tara share a look, having already made an agreement prior not to mention the… darker details.

“Well, I asked her for drinks-“

“Oh bullshit, that’s not how it started and you know it” Tara instantly cuts you off, grinning as you give her an accusing look, which only makes your friends laugh.

“Tell us how it really went Tara, god knows your local lover over here was probably a blubbering mess” Anika comments, which instantly has you trying to voice a rebuke.

Tara quickly slaps a hand over your mouth, a wicked grin growing across her face “this one was hopeless from the start, but it’s not like I made it easy-“

You swat her hand away, jumping on it with a dramatic scoff, “oh come on I totally wooed you with my charm and pool playing skills-“

“You didn’t win once”.

“Yeah but-“

“And you quit smoking cigarettes because I told you about my asthma.”

That has all three of your friends in disbelief, Anika praising Tara for getting you to quit. Quinn is instantly giving you shit for buckling so quick, and Ethan is completely flabbergasted.

“No fucking way. Did you freeze hell over or something?”

Tara grins smugly, ignoring the way you’re sputtering out, slowly giving up trying to defend yourself.

“You were snatching my cigarettes from me for days, don’t act like you didn’t-“

“Just admit it, you were down bad. I only had to mention it once”.

You suddenly smile, giving her a look that sends a small shiver down her spine, “yeah well you acted like you didn’t care but you just couldn’t help yourself”.

Okay, true, but Tara isn’t backing down.

She reaches up and grabs your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks, making your face scrunch in a cute way.

“Come on, with this face? I was bound to cave eventually.”

It makes everyone laugh harder than they should, and you smile more than you should, but when she kisses you it’s full of love.

It’s always been love, even if it took you both some time to get there.

“You better keep her or I’m disowning you”.

The kiss breaks, you huff in irritation, Tara laughs brightly as she leans against you.

“Oh my god, fuck off, Anika”.

day 9

The bathroom is dimly lit by a few tall candles placed around the space, casting a soft and warm glow in the room.

The air was filled with the scent of the candles, a compilation of different fragrances mixed together. The space felt secluded and cozy, on the bathroom counter is your vinyl record player, the sweet lyrics of The Louvre playing over the faint sound of the candles crackling.

The lighting isn’t all that makes the intimate atmosphere, the small bath was filled to the brim with warm, bubbly water, creating a cozy space for the two of you within. The tub is narrow, forcing you to be close to one another as you relax in the water. Despite the tight quarters, you’re comfortable together, the clumps of suds providing the only barrier on the water surface.

Tara is currently nestled between your legs, her back flush to your front. You’re fitted together perfectly, always perfectly, it’s almost cliché to conclude you had to have been made for each other.

Her eyes are closed, hair pulled back into a messy bun as she relaxes her head back into the crook of your neck. If it weren’t for the way her thumb gently caresses your knuckles where your fingers are interlocked, you’d be quick to assume she’d fallen asleep.

You hum along quietly to the music, your free hand coming up to absently tuck a strand of her hair out of her face and behind her ear. The corners of her mouth twitch, and she leans back into you further. If that is at all possible.

“I could get use to this” Tara murmurs after a lapse of silence, the soft words filling the tranquility.

“Me too” you whisper against the curve of her ear, your heart fluttering as you notice small goosebumps form on what skin you can see. Even when surrounded by the warm water the tub provides.

It’s moments like this, with Tara, that make you wonder if this was all you’d ever needed your whole life. Just life, with her.

That thought alone, makes you far more grateful that you made the choices you did, that led you to Tara in the first place.

Having Tara here in New York, away from the otherworldly chaos, no expectations or unavoidable demands from anything or anyone.

It makes you appreciate even the hard times, and the lessons it taught you. Never did you think you’d ever be this happy, this at peace.

You’re completely, unabashedly, in love with her.

If you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t think it can get better than this.

day 10

Tara and Anika are bonding over how you need decorations, that your apartment is too bland.

You aren’t sure whether this is a good thing or not.

“You’re fucked, bud” Ethan comments as he lays down a red nine amongst the discard pile laying in the middle of your coffee table.

“What’s mine is hers” you say with a ghost of a smile, dropping a red four.

Quinn snorts in amusement from your left, placing a green four on top of your card which has both you and Ethan groaning.

“Uno, also, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this with a girl before” Quinn says as she shoots you a smirk just as Ethan drops a green draw two, “and that’s saying a lot all considering I’ve never seen you serious with anyone”.

You roll your eyes, pulling from the draw deck and sighing with relief as you drop the green eight you’d gotten.

“Like you have room to talk, you haven’t even been in a relationship-“

Ethan snickers when Quinn grabs a pillow off the couch and smacks you in the back of the head with it, making you suck in air through your teeth as you rip the pillow from her.

Raising it, ready to strike-

“Dont you dare, behave” you hear Anika scold, making you pause mid-movement, shooting her a glare that doesn’t even hold light to the one you’re receiving from her.

The fact Tara is hiding a laugh behind her hand doesn’t help either.

“How about you stop jumping on my case, huh? My apartment is fine the way it is” you shoot towards the both of them, squaring your shoulders.

“You need life in here, some art on the walls won’t kill you” Tara tries to add in, to which Quinn follows up with her own opinion.

As always.

“I agree, these walls are as bland as Ethan’s dating life-“

You swing the pillow down on Quinn, cutting her sentence off as she yelps at the abrupt flop of the pillow against the side of her head.

“CHILDREN” Anika groans, Tara laughing as she watches you and Quinn start shoving at each other while Ethan argues his case on his dating life.

It falls on deaf ears.

“-what’s the point in decorating if I might move to Woodsboro to be with Tara, anyways” you say abruptly, which has Quinn stop on her assaults to look over to the woman in question. Everyone does.

Tara however, doesn’t miss a beat as she holds your gaze, expression unreadable as she raise one singular eyebrow.

“And if I decide I want to move to New York?”

A subtle tension fills the apartment, not even Quinn has anything to say for once.

“You guys joining in on this now? Or what?” Ethan cuts the silence with his effort to change the subject, and for once it helps as Anika and Tara head over to jump in on the card game.

Quinn shoots you a look as she regathers the cards, but you don’t have time to wonder what it means as Tara drops down to sit on the ground next to you. Purposefully bumping her shoulder into yours harder than necessary.

You whip your head around, jaw set and eyes narrowed playfully. Even when she’s trying to look serious, you know it’s not that deep.

But, it is.

“We’re gonna have to talk about this, you know” you mutter to her as Anika demands that she be the one to distribute the cards, since Quinn is known to cheat.

As argument breaks out between the two of them, you and Tara find yourselves in a momentary bubble. Your eyes searching hers, she doing the same to yours.

“Tomorrow” she mutters, her hand gliding across the rug, your own instinctively slipping off the table to rest atop hers.

It’s a silent agreement, because the conversation won’t be easy, but even that doesn’t matter.

You’re pretty sure you’re both going to be on the same page.

Quinn ends up winning the next three games of Uno.

You accuse Ethan of slipping her cards again, she does have the better poker face than him after all.

And when he turns beet red, sputtering, war breaks out.

This. This is your family, it always has been. And with Tara?

It feels complete.

day 11

Intimacy comes in many forms, as does affection.

But with you? It’s indescribable.

The level of comfort and safety she feels with you is almost scary, with how quickly she opened up to you. Tara should’ve been terrified.

But if you’ve ever been right about anything, is that Tara just couldn’t help herself.

Tara raged to Sam about you back in Woodsboro on two separate occasions.

The first, after the incident at the lake with Wes. After she’d found you at that diner when she’d gotten off her shift late. After she’d gotten to know you a little better.

The second, was after you’d tried to leave. After you’d returned, told her you’d only come back for her. Reminded her how you’d promised to never leave her, after trying to leave her.

During Tara’s first rant, Sam had told her to stay away from you. How you were nothing but trouble from the outside, how you were reckless and acted with intrusive behavior. By the second, Sam was giving Tara a look somewhere close to sympathetic, with a dash of understanding.

Tara is pretty sure Sam knew before she knew back then, even with her initial reluctance towards you.

But now, as the two of you lay in your bed, a tangle of limbs that leaves wonder where you start and Tara ends. Tara knows.

Not even the movie playing idly in the background helps quiet Tara’s thoughts. The last few days have meant so much to her, life with you is everything she didn’t know she needed.

Tara hates that she is having a hard time admitting that to herself, because even with the phone calls back home to her friends and Sam, she’s painfully reluctant to return.

Or maybe, she’s just grown comfortable being checked out of reality. Now knowing the comfort of your arms, your home, your people, your life. She likes normalcy. She likes the absence is stress, wondering if someone she knows will disappear in a month.

Tara is starting to worry that there’s a slight chance, her trauma is catching up to her, now that she has room to breathe. To love. To live.

Can she go home? Can she leave you? It’s already a miracle that she found you.

Well, technically, you found her. She simply cradles the gift that is your heart in the palm of her scarred hand.

Does she deserve it? She deserves to be happy, just like anyone else. But at what cost? Will it be worth it, if it’s not what she’s desperately hoping it to be? Will this break her? Will you break her?

“You’re thinking awful hard” you murmur softly, your hand that had been idly scratching her back affectionately comes up to dip your fingers under her chin. The small touch has Tara lift her head off your chest, propping herself up on one elbow to look at you fully.

“I can’t be that predictable already”.

“Not at all, but you’ve got a giveaway” you say with a small smile.

That makes Tara scoff quietly, smacking your chest gently, which only makes you laugh as she protests “I do not!”

“You get this tension right here” you reach up to delicately trace the space between her eyebrows, “that and you haven’t made a single comment on the bad acting in this movie”.

She can’t help but smile at that, even as she rolls her eyes “yeah whatever”.

You’re analyzing her, she feels it, so she continues before you ask.

“What are we doing?”

Of course she expects a quip, sarcasm, a witty comment to ease her thoughts. Instead, you do better.

“I’d like to think there is a place where someone loves you both before, and after they learn what sustains you from the inside. And us-“ you pause, raising your hand with her palm pressed to yours.

“We’re just trying to find where that will home us, together” you trace her fingers with yours, captivated by the simple feeling of her skin against yours.

Tara never understood the depth of yearning for someone, anything. But when her eyes find yours, and finds just how deep your love for her runs, it hurts almost as much as it reassures her.

Which now begs the question: New York or Woodsboro? Somewhere in between?

“I can’t take you from your home”.

“Then you know I can’t ask the same of you” you reply just as softly, “I don’t care where-“

“Me either”.

A pause.

This pause, this moment of intimate silence, was a strange comfort, like a warm embrace on a cold night. There was no need for words, no need for argument. If there’s one thing you’ll never struggle with, is communicating, and that alone guarantees that eventually.

Eventually, you’ll come to a solution.

In this perfect, peaceful silence, there was an unspoken understanding between the two, an understanding that words alone could never express. It was a moment that transcended language, a moment that spoke in a language all its own, a language of trust, love, and connection.

It offered no resolute answer, and it doesn’t help that Tara flies home tomorrow.

But just maybe, right now, there didn’t need to be.

previous, next

[aerynwrites]

Peace

Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting anything lately lol - my writing motivation has been in the toilet. But hopefully it's back now and I just had to get this little piece out for the holidays. I hope you enjoy! Word Count: 4k Warnings: so much fluff, fluff galore, fluff mountain, slightly insecure simon, (possibly ooc simon??), mentions of praying before a meal, again just lots of fluff.

Simon “Ghost” Riley doesn’t get nervous. 

Nerves, anxiety, fear - it was all beat out of him by his piece-of-shit excuse for a father. Then further beat out of him in the military. Nervousness died with the first Simon Riley, buried six feet underground never to be heard from again.

So why the bloody fuck are his hands sweating?

He’s wiped them on the fabric of his jeans at least a dozen times as they drive down the desolate stretch of road in nowhere Scotland. Johnny talking his ear off the whole time - mostly about his family. 

The family Simon is about to meet. 

Fuck…what was he thinking, agreeing to this?

Thinking you don’t want to be alone again on the holidays, that’s what.

Simon shakes his head, chasing the thought away as quick as it’d come. 

He’s been alone all his life. He didn’t need anyone. Yet, when Johnny had whispered the request, a simple one really - into the darkness of the room one night as they shared a bed…Simon couldn’t say no. 

“Come home with me, Si.”

That was less than a week ago, and the Scott followed through on his promise, helping Simon pack his bags before all but whisking him away for a few weeks holiday with his family. 

His very large family. 

Of course Simon knew of Johnny’s parents and sisters and brother, but Johnny had warned him that the whole extended family gets together for Christmas. He’d been regaling Simon with dozens of tales from his childhood, each one with a different family member. And try as he might, Simon couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips as he continued, sweaty palms forgotten the longer Johnny talked. 

The small moment of reprieve didn’t last long, however, because sooner than Simon was ready for they were turning off the main road onto a side street. That side street quickly gave way to a long gravel drive, and before he knew it Johnny had parked the car behind at least half a dozen others in front of a large house. 

The first thing Simon noticed was the sheer normal-ness of the place. All the cars were practical ones, SUVs, sedans - made for families. The house was decorated modestly but tastefully. Colorful string lights lined the gutters and porch railings, a wreath hung on the door, and a large wooden sign leaned up against the front of the house beside the door that read ‘Merry Christmas!’ In bold red letters. 

But more than that, Simon could see into the house. The blinds are open and he can see many people milling about, talking, laughing, adults running after small children-

“This wasn’t a good idea, Johnny.”

The words are out before Simon can stop them, and he instantly regrets them the moment they bring a wounded look to his partner's face. But he can’t help it. His damn palms are sweaty again and his heart is racing and he can’t-

Johnny reaches over to slide a familiar calloused hand into his own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“It’ll be okay, Simon. They’re gonna love ya’-”

Simon can’t help the small huff of bitter laughter that slips from beneath his mask. “Will they?” He asks, before gesturing to the cloth covering his face. 

“You’re tellin’ me the kids won’t run screamin’, the moment they see me? Or that your family won’t stare at the giant with a bloody mask-”

Simon cuts himself off, shaking his head. 

“I shouldn’t ‘ave come,” he repeats sullenly, “You go in. Enjoy the holiday with your family. I saw a hotel not too far back, I can-”

“No, no, no, none of that shite,” Johnny interjects, voice firm. A tone he doesn’t take with Simon often. 

“I’ve told them all about you,” he finally admits, “mask an’ all.” He laughs softly. “The only thing Ma ‘ad to say about it was askin’ why you chose a skull.”

Simon is silent, warring with himself as Johnny continues. 

“And…you don’t ‘ave to wear it if you don’t want to,” he suggests lightly, before squeezing Simon’s hand again. “I wouldn’t ‘ave suggested you come if I dinnae think they’d like ya’. My family is important to me, Si. And you’re part of tha’ now.”

Simon didn’t have time to respond this time before Johnny’s out of the car and opening the trunk to get their bags. He’s thinking out loud again, wondering if his mother made his favorite side dish or dessert, wondering if his nephews would be here.

Simon is listening but he also isn’t, his mind running one hundred miles a minute until the trunk slams closed and Simon lets out a muttered curse before ripping the balaclava off his head and shoving it in his pocket as he steps from the vehicle. He doesn’t miss the shocked raise of the Scott’s eyebrows as he comes around the car before it melts into that fucking smile that plagues Simons waking moments. 

Simon takes his bag from Johnny’s hand before following him up the drive then up the steps of the porch. He waits patiently as Johnny grabs the door handle, knocking when he finds it’s locked. Every moment of waiting feels like an eternity for Simon, all possible scenarios running through his mind. The door swinging open and everyone inside coming to a stand still as they take in the monster Johnny brought with him. The children pointing and whispering about the scars marring his features. Johnny’s parent’s frowning in disapproval at the choice their son made…

It’s all playing out in front of his very eyes until a soft feminine voice calls out from the other side of the door - ‘coming!’ - and then the lock clicks and the door swings open and an older woman that looks eerily similar to his partner beams up at them both.

“Johnathan!” She says reverently, wistfully, as she wraps her son in a hug so fierce Simon’s momentarily worried she might injure him. 

But Johnny just laughs and drops his bag as he wraps his big arms around his mother, stooping down to envelop her entirely as he embraces her, tucking his head into her neck. 

“I’m home, Ma.”

The embrace lasts for the perfect amount of time before they pull away from one another, and it’s then, as Mrs. MacTavish holds her son at arms length - looking over him - that her eyes flit over to Simon, and the inevitable has finally come. 

Except there’s no hatred. No disgust or disapproval or furrowed brows. Instead there’s a smile just as big as she gave Johnny and before Simon can react the woman is approaching him.

“You must be, Simon,” she says, voice gentle - warm and welcoming. 

All Simon can do is nod, gripping onto his duffel bag with white knuckles. 

“Johnathan never stops talking about you-”

“Ma!” Johnny reprimands.

“Talking about you and your team and how…” she trails off, a sadness settling into her eyes before she steps forward and wraps Simon in an embrace he hasn’t felt since his own mother passed. 

It’s strong and grounding, yet soft and inviting all at the same time, and it catches Simon so off guard that this woman who barely reaches his chest is hugging him - that all he can think to do is wrap his free arm lamely around her shoulders. 

“Thank you for keeping him safe.”

The words are so soft, uttered into the cotton of Simon's shirt, that he’s surprised he hears them. But he does, and he gives her a gentle squeeze. 

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to him,” he assures her.

He looks to Johnny as his mother pulls away from him, and he has to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the smug ‘I told you so’ look on the scott’s face. 

Mrs. MacTavish smiles again before stepping back towards the house. “Well, come on then, you’re just in time, really. Dinner is goin’ to be ready within the hour.”

She opens the door back up and steps inside and Johnny follows close behind her, looking back when Simon hesitates. He gives him a reassuring look, shifting his bag to his other hand so he can reach a hand out to him. Letting out a small resigned huff, Simon takes the hand offer to him and lets himself be tugged into the house. 

Warmth envelopes him almost immediately- not only in the temperature sense because of the roaring fire in the fireplace at the center of the living room - but also in the atmosphere. The lights around the house are soft and welcoming, none of the bright fluorescents that litter the base. And the general sense in the house is one of pure love and happiness and joy. Children running around, adults laughing and chatting happily with drinks in their hands. Even the Christmas tree, bursting with colorfully wrapped gifts beneath it adds to the overall feel. 

It gives Simon whiplash - how different this place is than the environments he’s usually in. It’s not like the cinderblock dorm he usually stays in or the concrete gym he frequents or even the various dangerous countries he travels to for missions. 

Simon wants to both run and never leave at the same time. And unfortunately for him, he doesn’t get a chance to do the former. Before he has a chance to disappear into some dark corner (not that there’s many to be seen in this cozy home) Johnny is introducing him to all the family that stops them as they come in. 

Aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, nieces, grandparents…the only ones Simon really has time to remember are his sisters because Johnny talks about them all the time anyways - and once again, Simon is startled into near silence. Not a single one of them gives him a sideways glance. They all just smile warmly at him when Johnny introduces him, giving him a firm handshake - or let’s be honest - most of them wrap him in a firm hug. He expected nothing less from Johnny’s family. 

And when Johnny does end up getting pulled away by rambunctious nieces and nephews and Simon is left alone, he still doesn’t get a chance to slip away because Johnny’s sisters are sliding up to him, chatting about anything and nothing and slipping a drink into his hand (spike eggnog which Simon pretends not to enjoy as much as he does). 

It’s how ended up where he is now, hating feeling useless and standing around, he’s bustling around the kitchen with Johnny’s sisters, Amelia and Isobel and Mrs. MacTavish.

“Call me Moira, Simon. Mrs. MacTvish is my mother-in-law.”

(He doesn’t. Can’t. Not yet at least.)

“Simon,” Amelia, calls from the gargantuan dining room table in the room connected to the kitchen, “Can you grab the trivets? Dinnae want to leave rings on the table-”

“Oh!” Isobel calls as well, from where she’s playing the silverware, “I forgot the napkins too-”

Simon, with trivets already tucked beneath his arms, swoops up the delicately folded napkins on his way into the dining room - “On it.”

He places the trivett's precisely where the sisters direct him, unable to stop the small smile from tugging at his lips when they practically groan in appreciation when he places the napkins on top of the plates that are set out.

“Finally,” Amelia explains, moving to help Isobel set the silverware, “A man who isn’t entirely clueless-”

“Right?” Isobel agrees, both of them laughing.

Simon lets out a chuckle of his own, shrugging his shoulders. 

“We didn’ do much as a family when I was younger,” he starts, slightly hesitant. “But my Mum never skipped a holiday meal. Showed me how to set the table,” he says softly, feeling like he revealed too much. 

But the sisters just smile brightly at him, and Simon has to shove down the voice screaming ‘wrong, wrong, wrong! You don’t deserve their kindness, their sympathy-‘

“Well, your mum sounds like a lovely, woman,” Amelia says, before Isobel pipes in. 

“Are you and Johnny going to visit your family after us?”

Simon freezes at that, shoulders tensing as he tries and fails to stop the frown from tugging at his lips. He pretends not to see the way Amelia elbows her sister, sending her a scathing look as he continues to place napkins, now avoiding their eyes. 

“I uh-” he clears his throat. “My family’s passed. Jus’ me now.”

It’s silent for a moment, before he feels a gentle squeeze on his shoulder and he startles slightly, not having heard Mrs. MacTavish come up behind him in his inner grief. He turns to see yet another one of those blinding smiles on her face, a smile so similar to Johnny’s. He freezes again as her hand slides down to cover Simon’s, her hand tiny against his own larger one. 

“Well,” she says softly, “You always have a place at our table, Simon. You’re our family now.”

She turns away before he can speak and as she calls out to the family that dinner is ready, he’s silently glad she did, because he doesn’t know if he’d be able to speak around the lump in his throat. 

———

The family helps carry the food out to the table, and Simon can’t help but be impressed at the bountiful display of food, his stomach rumbling at the sight. Johnny finds him in the slight chaos, taking his hand in his own as he leads him to two seats towards the head of the table, just as everyone else is taking their seats. Johnny’s mother is at the head of the table, Amelia and Isobel and their partners and children to her left and Johnny and Simon to her right. He can’t help but feel like he’s too high up on the totem pole that is family seating. Hell, he doesn’t feel like he deserves to be here at all. 

Yet, when Mrs. MacTavish insist they all hold hands to say a prayer and she goes through the typical spiel, any doubt he has melts away when she says thanks for Johnny’s safety, Simon’s own name falling shortly behind before the entire table closes the prayer and Johnny squeezes his hand in that loving way that always makes his heart stutter. 

As quickly as the silence that fell over the table during grace came, it was gone in an instant. Soft shatter and laughter soon starts up as everyone passes dishes of food around. A lot of the things Simon recognizes; ham, mashed potatoes, and various other comfort food sides litter the table. But there are also some dishes that are unfamiliar to Simon, and Johnny is quick to explain them. Most of them are Scottish dishes he’s never heard of, but some are family recipes that have evolved over the years - all of them Johnny’s favorites.

“Oh, you ‘ave to try this one Si, it’s my favorite-”

“You’ve said tha’ about the last three dishes, Johnny-”

The Scott just laughs, “But this time I mean it.”

Soon, Simon’s plate is piled so high with food he’s concerned he won’t be able to eat it all (he does…and goes back for seconds). And he has to constantly remind himself not to eat like a military man - hunched over his plate, shoveling food in as fast as possible to be done in time - something he notices Johnny has to do as well. 

Simon smiles - and for the first time since he left base a few days ago, his palms have stopped sweating. 

———

The night is quiet as Simon steps outside of the still chattering household. Dinner ended a few hours ago, and ever the dutiful guest, Simon helped clean up before the events were moved to the living room. Presents were shared among family, mainly the kids. Colorful wrapping paper littering the floor and the couches and the chairs (and even the fireplace on one occasion, a disaster Simon managed to catch and stomp out before it went too far.) He and Johnny sat on the couch, the latter watching and oozing happiness from every pore as he soaked in the family he hadn't seen in too long. Hell, even Simon was sated - a little too much like a cat in a sun patch with his belly full and his inhibitions slightly dulled from that damn eggnog. 

But now…Simon felt the ever present itch to step away, that familiar feeling of otherness creeping back in as he feels like an intruder to something so cozy and intimate. 

You don’t belong here, that voice mutters again, sounding strangely similar to his father’s rasping voice as he slides the back door open and steps onto the back porch.

He tugs a cigarette from the pack in his coat pocket, placing it between his lips before grabbing the zippo Johnny had gifted him almost a year ago. 

‘It’s the twenty-first century, L.T. quit usin’ matches.’

Simon huffed out a small laugh at the memory as he flicked the wheel of the lighter, a small flame sparking to life and warming his palm as he cups his hand around it and brings to the end of the cigarette, taking a deep drag to light it. 

The soft sound of the sliding glass door reaches his ears just as he flicks the lighter closed and stows it away, and he knows who it is almost instantly, the footsteps familiar to him. 

Johnny doesn’t speak right away, instead coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with Simon just as the first few flurries start to fall from the sky. 

Snow…

Simon can’t remember the last time he saw snow - well - saw snow in a pleasant way. Snow that wasn’t waist deep and in the Russian wilderness and keeping his team from reaching the safe house. Snow that wasn’t stained red or crushed into brown slurry beneath his boots. 

Maybe this trip would change that - like it’s changed a lot of things. 

“Thank you.”

The words are simple, but soft. Softer than they have a right to be coming from a man like Simon. A man who has more blood on his hands than most. A man who most people would run from the second they looked at him. 

But he means them. He means them with his whole heart and he hopes that Johnny understands everything Simon is trying to say with those two simple words. 

Thank you for inviting me here. Thank you for trusting me with your family. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for putting up with me. Thank you for loving the unlovable and showing me this and -

Johnny shrugs, and the rustle of fabric breaks off Simon’s train of thought as he glances over at his partner from the corner of his eyes. 

“I want you ‘ere, Si,” Johnny says softly, eyes looking out into the wilderness beyond the backyard, into the stars littering the night sky, “I ‘ave for a long time, and I…”

He trails off, clearing his throat, and Simon doesn’t miss the way he fiddles with something in his pocket. 

“I love you, Simon,” he says gently, finally tearing his eyes away from the celestial lights above him to look at Simon in a way that he’s never been looked at before. “And I meant wha’ I said. You’re part of this now,” he gestures back to the house still brimming with life, love, and happiness. “And I was wonderin’…” he trails off again, letting out a frustrated sound. 

“Ah, I’m shite at this…”

Simon huffs out a laugh, “Spit it out, Johnny-”

Now it’s Johnny’s turn to laugh, shaking his head as he pulls out a little velvet box from his jacket pocket. “Your makin’ this real ‘ard to be all romantic an’ shit-” he rolls his eyes, but even in the dimness of the moonlight Simon doesn’t miss the way Johnny’s cheeks redden. 

Realistically Simon knows what’s in the box - he knows what’s coming. Yet, he still can’t help the way his heart leaps into his throat when Johnny opens the box to reveal a simple gold ring. No frills, no getting on one knee and professing his love, no fancy dinner. 

It was never their thing anyways. 

“Simon Riley,” Johnny says, voice slightly choked, nervous, “Will you marry me?”

Simon never truly knew what he would do in this situation- fuck, he never imagined this scenario. Ever. Not in a million years. And if he did - he always thought he’d be the one asking.

“Johnny…”

The Scott cuts him off, “now before you go an’ start all that self-deprecatin’ bullshi-”

“Johnny-” Simon tries again.

“I love you! An’ I know that-”

Simon lets out a low growl, once stemming from slight annoyance as he flicks his cigarette out and away from him in favor of taking Johnny’s face in his calloused palms and pressing lips firmly to his. It shuts the Scott up, and Simon can’t stop that stupid giddy feeling that he gets when familiar hands wrap around his waist. 

It doesn’t last long, just long enough for Simon to get the point across, and then he’s pulling away resting his forehead against Johnny’s. 

“If you’d let me get a bloody word out, I’d tell you yes.”

Johnny pauses at that - eyes widening slightly in that way that Simon always thinks looks like a puppy begging for more treats. 

“Really?”

Simon scoffs, not unkindly, and pulls away his hand still cupping warm cheeks. 

“Why’d ya ask if ya thought I’d say no?”

Johnny blushes at that, looking away, “Well I didnae think you’d say no…” he shrugs, “Just thought you’d take more convincin’ is all.”

Now it’s Simon’s turn to roll his eyes, as he finally drops his hands, holding his left one out slightly. 

“You gonna make me put it on myself?”

Johnny laughs then, a real laugh, the loud one that Simon pretends to hate but really truly loves - and then Johnny is taking the ring from the box and sliding it on Simon's left ring finger with more delicacy than he deserves. The metal is cool, smooth as it slides against his overheated skin, and as it sit snugly on his finger, Simon can’t help but flex them, the metal glinting in the moonlight.

“You picked good, Johnny,” he says lamely, not sure what else to say until he glances at Johnny’s left hand. 

“Now I need to get you one,” he says, “Can’t have people thinkin’ you’re single.”

Johnny smiles, digging around in his jeans pocket this time before producing an identical gold band to his own. “Way ahead of ya, L.T.”

Johnny goes to slide the band on, but Simon stops him, taking the metal ring from his fingers with a grumble of ‘hold it sergeant’ before he slips it over his ring finger. He doesn’t miss the way Johnny smiles down at their hands, all wrapped together as he gazes at the matching rings. 

Simon opens his mouth to say something, but a bright white flash of light from his left stops him and Johnny in their tracks. They both look over just in time to see Isobel fumbling with her phone behind the glass sliding door as Amelia scolds her and Mrs. MacTavish just gives her son a small thumbs up and watery smile. 

Johnny just groans and runs a hand down his face as the three women scatter, leaving them alone once more. 

“Steamin’ Jesus,” he rolls his eyes, “Sorry ‘bout them-”

Simon shakes his head, taking Johnny’s hand in his own as he turns to face the backyard again, thumb already running over the smooth metal ring. 

“Don’t worry about it, Johnny,” he says, waving him off. “I…it’s nice. Having a family again.”

Johnny smiles, giving Simon’s hand a soft squeeze before they both settle into a comfortable silence to watch the snow fall from the sky above them. 

And as the muffled sounds of Christmas music and soft chatter filter out from the house and Simon holds Johnny close…He can’t help but send a silent thought to his mother and brother. Wherever they are.

‘I’m not alone.’

The gentle kiss of a breeze answers him, whispering against his cheeks and wrapping around his legs, and for the first time since he can remember - 

Simon is at peace. 

[frenchcurious]

📸 drive tastefully. - source Rétro Passion Automobiles.

[yours-etc]

12 Days of Steddie-Mas

Day 5:

You would be there too, under the mistletoe

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Steve had always wanted to be the person who hosted holiday parties. With his parents constantly being gone, the holidays never felt like they were supposed to. He had always dreamed of having a house full of people all dressed in ugly sweaters chatting over mugs of spiked hot chocolate or eggnog.

With a little luck (and government hush money) Steve was able to move into a smaller place with Robin. They fixed up the house to their taste and decided they were to be the hosting house for the party from here on out. No more parents just upstairs or walking on eggshells trying not to break any antiques. This was a house just for them to be themselves. After all they had went through together, they deserved a space to truly be themselves.

When December finally came Steve and Robin had already planned their beige Christmas Eve Eve bash for everyone. They sent out real invites with silly Christmas stamps and everything.

Looking around the room Steve sees his dream finally come true. Everyone is there with tastefully ugly sweaters and laughing and filling the house with warmth. Tinsel lined every surface possible and presents laid under the tree to be handed out later. He couldn’t help the smile that made its way to his face. For the first time in a long time Steve could say he was not only happy, but content.

The doorbell rang signaling the last stragglers had arrived.

“I got it!” Steve said jumping into action, playing the perfect host.

When he opens the door there is Gareth and Jeff waiting on the other side, arms full of gifts, only slightly disappointed at the last of their usual third party.

”Hey Steve! Merry Christmas!” Gareth says running into the house, looking like he was about to drop everything and needed to put them all down before that happened.

Jeff followed him in, “Hi Steve, Thanks for the invite!”

“Not a problem,” Steve says, moving out of their way in the doorway.

“Eddie is still in the car grabbing the last of the things,” Gareth calls back before he can close the door.

Steve looked out the front door to the drive way to see Eddie’s van sitting there with back doors open wide. He quickly puts on some shoes and runs out to help, “Need some assistance?” He asks.

Eddie jumps slightly, not having heard Steve walk up. He looks to Steve, noticing his lack of a jacket, “Jesus Harrington, no need to freeze yourself on my account! I got it all, go back inside,” He says shooing Steve.

He ignores him, going to the open back door and picking up several wrapped boxes, “The faster we get these inside the sooner the real party can start,” he says teasingly. Steve walks away arms full, he hears Eddie quickly gather up the last of the boxes and close the back doors of the van before running to catch up to him.

——————————

Everyone is sitting around in the living room and passing out gifts to one another. Wrapping paper is going everywhere, Steve thinks its time to grab a trash bag to start collecting it all, they aren’t even halfway through everything and the mountain of paper is getting ridiculously large. He stands up and makes his way to the kitchen to retrieve the sack.

When he turns around Eddie is standing there, looking shy.

Thinking he needed some water or something from the counter he was blocking, Steve moves to the side, “Sorry Eds, let me get out of your way,” He tries to hurry out of the room, always feeling to warm whenever he’s in a room with Eddie alone for too long.

But Eddie sticks his hands out to stop him, “Wait I came in here for you!”

Steve looks at him with wide eyes, “For me?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says with a smile, “I have a gift for you, but it's sort of— private, I guess.”

He didn’t think his eyes could go this wide, or heartbeat this fast, “Oh okay,” His voice cracking with nervousness.

It is then that he notices Eddie’s hands holding something behind his back. Steve looks expectantly, wanting to see what was so special Eddie wanted to give it to him alone…

The boy in front of him scratches his neck, “Uhh, could you close your eyes real quick?” He asks.

Steve closes his eyes without another word. He waits for Eddie to be ready. If he was honest with himself, he would admit that he’d do anything Eddie asked him to do.

After a few moments Eddie lets out a big breath, “Okay, you can open your eyes.”

When he does he sees Eddie there with a bright red flush, and when Steve looks up to what he is holding above them, he sees a fresh bunch of mistletoe.

Steve’s heart feels like its about to burst out of his chest.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while, but I’m a fucking scaredy cat, and this is pretty terrifying. And you’re perfect and everyday I don’t tell you it gets harder to keep in,” Eddie starts to ramble as Steve stands there shocked, “But I’ve had this stupid— silly really— crush on you since like sophomore year, and now that I actually know you… it’s ten times worse. And I don’t know recently it’s felt, mutual? Please don’t hit me for saying this and I’m so sorry if I’m reading everything wrong, but I want to kiss you so bad right now, there is no reason you should look as good as you do in an ungly Christmas sweater!” Everything just spews out of him and Steve just listens, waiting for a moment to respond.

He soon realizes that if he didn’t stop it, Eddie would ramble forever. So he took Eddie’s face in his hands and pulls him into a small kiss. Something sweet, and simple, and far too short, but now is not the time to have a make out session in the kitchen. When Steve pulls back, Eddie has gone completely still in his hands.

Steve goes in again. Eddie is more reactive this time, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist, leaning into him. He could feel how nervous Eddie was in the kiss. Steve pulls away again, this time pulling a groan from Eddie in protest.

“I’m not doing much for Christmas Eve, Robin is going to her parents. If you’re free,” Steve starts, but he is cut off by Eddie moving to him first this time. They both smile into this kiss. Eddie’s hands and more confident now, grabbing Steve and pulling him in tight.

Steve tries to push away, “Eddie everyone is in the other room.”

“I actually couldn’t give less of a fuck in this moment,” He say before attacking Steve’s neck.

Dustin’s voice rings out from the living room, “Steve where the hell did you go?”

Footsteps getting closer had them jumping apart with lightning speed.

Steve moves first, meeting Dustin halfway, “I’m literally right here, just getting a glass of water and a trash bag since you all insist on making a mess.”

Dustin rolls his eyes, “Yeah, well hurry up, you have a pile of things to open.”

When Steve sits back down next to Robin, he notices a grin plastered to her face.

“What?” He asks squirming under her gaze.

Robin raises an eyebrow, “I see you like Eddie’s gift,” she says matter of fact.

He looks at her baffled before shoving her over, hard enough to get the point across, not hard enough to push her off the chair, although he really wanted to.

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Day: 1 2 3 4 5 6 AO3

DAY 5!!! How excitinggg!! Thank you all on the love for all of these <3 Christmas gets closer and closer everyday! I cant get enough of these two idiots in love, they mean the world to me.

As always thank you for reading and more to come!

[iznaekkoya]

secrets ~ bang jeemin

1111 words, rated G

tags: friends to lovers, secret pining, happy ending

You and Jeemin, for all the many years you’ve been friends, are still allowed your personal secrets. This isn’t the movies––you don’t have to tell each other absolutely everything, and having secrets isn’t inherently harmful.

Like when you had that hipster blog in middle school where you painstakingly curated a feed of girls in cozy flannels or denim, pictures of beautifully arranged cups of coffee and tea, of tastefully blurry sunflowers with four or five different filters layered on top of each other. Jeemin could never––can never––know about it, because you’d never hear the end of it. She would probably think it’s a cute relic of the past, but then every artisanal coffee shop and infinity scarf you see will come with a pinch on the cheek and a reminder of something you’d like to stay dead and buried, thank you. Fall time would be miserable.

Or that time that you almost crashed your mom’s car trying to drive to the store in the middle of the night before you got a license. Jeemin didn’t need to know where that ice cream came from, not when she looked so excited to suddenly have a pint of cookie dough.

All of this to say, secrets are normal. Healthy, even.

That’s what you’re telling yourself, anyway, since the thought of her figuring out your massive crush on her is life-shatteringly embarrassing.

“Y/N,” She hums, holding up two different blazers in the mirror. “Which of these two would you say is more business formal?”

Heat rushes to your face. “I don’t even know what that means. How is that different from regular business wear?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you might have a clue, because I was prepared to show up to the interview in that red dress with some kind of cardigan. I mean, I’m glad I saw their message about attire being business formal before I left, but now I feel like I’m overthinking it,” she huffs, dropping down into the desk chair behind her and rolling closer to where you sit on her bed.

The red dress looks amazing on her. You’d hate for a bunch of stuffy office workers to get to see it and not fully appreciate how radiant she looks in it, how that shade of red isn’t too orange or too blue, and how it brings out the warmth in her eyes. Not that you can say any of that.

Instead, you say, “Definitely not the red. Maybe just a blazer over some kind of collared shirt, and a pencil skirt? That’s how all the girls on Suits dress.”

Jeemin giggles into her hand. “Not sure if I should be taking fashion advice from the legal malpractice show.”

“Megan Markle looks so good in it, though.”

“Yeah, but I’m not trying to appeal to any workplace romance fantasies. Just want to do my job, get paid and leave.”

Thank God, you think, stewing with jealousy over just the thought of some random coworker making moves on her. You’re no stranger to watching people flirt with and date Jeemin over the years, and it’s never gotten any easier. Not when so many of them just liked her because she’s pretty, and didn’t take the time to get to know her as a person. Jeemin is so much more than just pretty, and you’re sick of people tossing her to the side once they realize the fantasy of her wasn’t enough to keep them interested. It drives you crazy.

“Y/N?” Jeemin asks, wheeling over and poking you in the thigh. “Are you okay?”

“Hm?” You can feel your cheeks reddening. “Oh, yeah. Sorry. Just thinking about you having workplace romance. I don’t think you’re the type, honestly.”

“You’re right. I’ve always preferred having a preexisting bond with my partners. Plus, it would be too much, having to see my girlfriend at work and at home. We’d never get a break from each other, it’d be exhausting.”

Are you hearing that right? Since when? Jeemin went on so many blind dates, used the dating apps more than any person you know for years––she only deleted them a few months ago, and that was just because of one too many bad dates. Where is this coming from?

“I didn’t know that,” is what you choose to say, after much deliberation. “I always thought you preferred to keep them separate.”

“Nah,” she says, desk chair spun so she can rest her elbows on the foot on the bed. Her forearm knocks into your thigh. “I’m over that. It took a while, but I realized I would only consider dating someone if they were a friend first.”

You chose a little bit at that. Through what you’re hoped are well-masked coughs, you fight to keep this little nugget of conversation going, hoping to prod further.

“Did something change your mind?”

Her gaze rakes down your body, sending chills up your spine. “Someone, yeah.”

Another cough wracks through you, this one unable to be concealed. You can only hope now that your face isn’t embarrassingly red. “Oh,” you say, through coughs. “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” she says, using your knees as an anchor as she slides the chair to be directly in front of you, leaning forward. Being on the bed, you have a lot of height on her, but it doesn’t matter. This is Bang Jeemin, her very existence can send you into a panic under the right circumstances. “Do you want to ask me who?”

“Do I?” you manage to spit out. You don’t know what to do with your hands.

“Don’t play dumb,” she says. Now she’s getting out of the chair to loom over you, which makes you infinitely more nervous. “Ask me who.”

“Uhh…” you say, dumbstruck. “Who?”

You know the answer. It feels like some kind of fever dream, but you’re not that obtuse.

Instead of an answer, you get a kiss. You’ve spent enough nights dreaming about it to know that her mouth would feel incredibly warm on yours, but her slightly chapped lips take you at first by surprise, but becomes what pulls you in more. The reality of it: the imperfection as you two find your rhythm, mouth gently gliding together like two slightly worn but connected puzzle pieces. It’s amazing, and it’s over too soon.

“You’re terrible at keeping a secret, y/n.” She cups a hand against your warm cheek, noticeably cool. “You always get so red.”

You just laugh, and bury your face in her tank top. “Shut up,” you say, not meaning it.

She hums for a moment, pretending to consider it.

“Make me.”