#I've said it before I'll say it again y'all are SLEEPING on the Teens

[glindyupland]

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[salbei-141]

Rescue Mission (Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Reader)

Masterlist

word count: 6.1k...i can't write a 3k essay but I can do this

warnings: 18+ mild smut, fluff, a lot of violence, self-doubt, graphic stuff etc. (forgive me if I've forgotten anything)

a/n: Wow am I entering my writing era again? I haven't written any sort of fanfic since I was like in my early teens, and I'm sure you can imagine how bad it was then, so I'd like to think this is better, but that's up to y'all to dictate. I do hope you all enjoy it, and as much as I desperately wanted to write for Ghost (which maybe I will in the future) I wanted to do something for Soap, he deserves love too, and there's not enough.

I don't know if I'll make this a part 2, if enough of you want it then I'll see what I can do - I also don't know how much more I'll write - knowing me it'll be like once in a blue moon lol

Anyway, I've spent my time writing this instead of completing uni work, which I desperately need to finish, but anything to procrastinate. I'd really appreciate any and all feedback, so please let me know if I can improve and if y'all wanna see anything specific in the future.

(I've gone over and edited it, so hopefully there's no mistakes)

:)

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With an intruding knock on your door followed by Ghost’s command of “Smoke get your ass up, Price wants you in his office in 10.” You were left to get ready in a rush with no negotiations.

Walking into the bathroom all you can focus on is the redness around your eyes followed by some bags to bring the look together, and the faded scar under your left eye as a reminder of past fights. You find yourself rarely getting any sleep these days - between random calls for missions and the ongoing night terrors, there’s little to no time for rest. You tend to wonder how much longer your body will be able to handle before it gives into exhaustion and you hit the ground - probably with Ghost at your heels telling you to get the fuck up before he drags you up himself. It really wouldn’t be a surprise if he did that to you, you thought to yourself with a small smirk gracing your face.

With several minutes to spare you throw some water on your face, flinching at the temperature - not quite awake enough to readily process things - patting your face dry and smoking your eyes out with some black paint you're closer to being ready to leave. You find yourself thinking back on a memory where Lt argued you had stolen his look of the blacked-out eyes and anonymity, but you begged to differ, plus you teased you looked better than the big man anyway, which had made him quietly huff.

Finishing up in the bathroom you slipped the plain black balaclava over your head, weary of the healing cut that laid as a reminder of the last mission on your cheek. In some fresh undergarments and black uniform you find yourself robotically walking out the room and down the hall to Price - there’s little thought in your actions anymore, everything’s just an automatic response, and there’s no need to think.

With a deep breath, you knock on the door, “Captain.”

“Come in Smoke.” Price said with a gruffness to his tone - he's not quite a morning person himself despite how long he'd been in the military.

Walking into the room, there’s a thick layer of tension that feels suffocating - your not sure what he’s going to ask of you, but you're on edge, he looks nervous, and Price is never unnecessarily nervous.

“Please sit Smoke.” And he averted his gaze on your eyes to look back down at his desk - it was definitely nerves, he didn't quite have Ghost's staring issues, but he always stared you down when you were walking into the office.

“Yes, Captain.” Without much else to say, you took your place on the dingy chair in front of his desk.

“Did Ghost tell you anything?” He made eye contact then, not averting it like before.

“…no, he didn’t. Just said to meet you in 10.” You felt your brows furrowing slightly at his question - should Ghost have said anything? You would've liked a pre-warning from the guy seeing Price's nerves shining through.

“Well, we’ve got a mission come up for you. It’s solo.” He states staring directly into your eyes, he knew you weren't going to be okay with this arrangement, so why the fuck had he decided on this.

“And you can’t have Ghost complete it?” There was a growing edge of anger to your tone, you didn’t want this, and you were getting progressively defensive.

“He’s aiding Laswell in a separate mission. You can’t hide forever y/n - it’s been a year now, and you’ve had more than enough time only participating in group missions…I wouldn’t make you do this if I doubted you.” There was sincerity in his tone, but you didn't want to believe him, you refused to.

“You didn’t doubt me a year ago and look how that went down, almost got the whole team's data exposed and ended up near enough getting Johnny killed while his ass was dumb enough to accept a rescue mission to save me.” Your hands were starting to shake underneath the table, and you could feel your heart rate starting to beat faster at the memories of Johnny coming to save you. “Look Price I’m not the fucking one, you got enough men on this base better than me and-“

“It’s MacTavish Smoke, and no I don't", you felt your stomach drop and the thoughts started running wild through your head. "Soap lost contact with us 2 days ago and we’ve received intel that a new terrorist organisation in the Middle East have taken him hostage. I’m not going to tell you again Sergeant - your mission is to save Seargent MacTavish and you’ll do it without fail. Do you understand?” He was giving no room for you to back out of this, there was no way to. You couldn't leave Johnny, but you also didn't feel capable after screwing up your last solo mission.

The tension had snapped after his confession, but was replaced with trepidation - it was all up in the air now, but you still felt like you were suffocating. Johnny was supposed to be on an in-and-out mission, nothing too difficult - he was supposed to be done tomorrow, what the fuck had happened?

Swallowing, you asked for the necessary intel, and Price started to brief you on the mission. You were to head to Yemen, following coordinates that Price would send to you once you were in the country. From here you were alone - it was a high-risk operation and they didn't want to risk losing more soldiers than was needed - Price knew you were capable of completing this alone, even if you didn't.

~~~Time skip~~~

Now in the heli you were about an hour away from the house Soap was situated in - you had, had time on the aeroplane to figure out a basic plan and between the anxiety of what Soap was currently enduring and the desperation to succeed you knew what you were going to do.

Price's intel suggsted there were about 50 men minimum around this base at all times - but tonight there was some sort of event, and there were going to be about half that, which made things easier, but you knew it meant they'd be on higher alert; especially when they have a member of the 141. About 5 men would be at the entrance to this home give or take; another few men would be around the back of the house; give or take there would about 6 men patrolling the ground and first floors; then that left probably 3 men with Johnny and some stragglers patrolling the ground of the place, but there was no guarantee this was even close to the layout in reality. What you did know though was that there was a blind spot around the east side of the house where there was a small hatch to the basement of the place - this was your only safe way in and depending on how things went, it'd also be your safe way out.

"Seargent y/l/n, we're here, you ready?" you heard a static voice come through the headset from the pilot.

"As ready as one could be I guess.", you all but muttered into the mic.

And with a count down you were sliding down the rope and landed heavily onto the ground - it was dry land, which meant it'd be easier to cover tracks if necessary, but it also meant there were fewer ways in which you could hide yourself and Soap wouldn't be in the best of conditions for this, assuming he was alive.

Hiking to the house, you were half expecting someone to take you down on the spot with every step you took, but with each step, you got closer to where you had to be, but you still couldn't allow yourself to take a relaxed breath of air.

After about a 40-minute walk, you found yourself on the edge of the compound if you could call it that. You were in the middle of nowhere and already knew you needed to do this quietly - running away was going to be difficult with the sheer amount of open land, but there were a few valleys into the back of the compound, which you were sure you'd be able to escape and camp up in, assuming there were caves within them.

You noticed there were a group of men at the front - maybe about 11..something wasn't right, but you had no clue what was going on yet. There were 2 guys covering the back of the place and no one on the east side - at least it was a blind spot for sure. Without another thought, you went from your prone position to stalking toward the hatch, which would hopefully lead to Soap.

Putting an ear to the small hatch, you listened for what was beneath, and so far there was only silence - hopefully, it stayed that way. With that, you lifted the hatch carefully, making little noise, and peered in, seeing steps leading down - it was dark though - had they been depriving Soap of all his senses hoping he'd go mad enough to confess or something?

Without little insight into what was beneath you, you had no real way to plan how you'd go about this, but what you did know was there were more men outside than you'd planned for, which gave you a little less anxiety. Creeping down the stairs, you turned your night vision on and took a moment to look around. Where the fuck was Johhny? All you could see were damp cobble walls and dirt. Walking to the bottom of the stairs you pulled a suppressed pistol out and a knife and stalked the room looking for another door.

Suddenly a door above you opened - there was another set of stairs and light seeped through before it closed again, welcoming the darkness once again. With the night vision still active you could see one of the men walking down the stairs with what looked like an AK-47 - that made it a lot easier for you to take him out from behind, it would take too long for him to adjust and fire. Watching him reach the bottom of the stairs, you stalked closer to his figure and just before he could flip the switch on the wall, you pulled your knife and plunged it into his neck, covering his mouth and slowly lowering his writhing body to the floor - making sure to make as little noise possible.

Moving the guys body to an empty corner of the room you remained silent and listened for anything else above - no sound. You assumed he was to take watch of Soap - hoping he was behind a door you noticed was under the stairs this guy had come down. There was again no light seeping underneath; either he was elsewhere or they were indeed depriving him of his sense, but you had no idea if there were any men in there. Putting your ear to the door all you could make out were some shallow breaths - it had to Johnny.

Pushing the door forward, you cringed hearing it squeak on his hinges. If someone was in here, then they knew you were too, and with no precautionary thoughts, you walked into the room, scanning it with your gun aimed and knife up.

There he was. You felt tears prick at your eyes, his body had stiffened and his breathing had picked up - Johnny wasn't ever usually this scared, what had they done to him?

Turning to your left you flipped a switch and closed the door behind you, putting a chair underneath in case anyone tried to walk in before you could prepare.

Walking to Johnny you placed a gentle hand pulling up the cloth bag they'd placed over his head - the small flinch hadn't gone unnoticed by your gaze. Letting him adjust to the light, you placed a gentle hand on his jaw, examining the cuts littering his face - you doubt they'd scar, but you were guessing the real pain was done to his body - you could see the crimson that was dried to his clothes - he looked like a mess, you had to get the both of you out of here and straight to a medic, you couldn't bare this for much more.

Of all the years you'd known Johnny, you'd always denied how you felt about him - he was a friend, a coworker, and there was a fine line you refused to cross, you didn't want to lose him nor your team. But seeing him like this, seeing him so broken - noticing his pained stare holding onto your eyes, you knew you couldn't deny what you felt anymore. There was no way you could deny that the pain in your chest wasn't due to the man you refused to accept your feelings for.

"Smoke? That you?" Soap all but managed to mumble out - his eye was bruised up and there was some mild swelling - nothing that concerned you too much, but you could imagine he was having a hard time properly focusing on you.

"Yeah, it's me Johnny. You're alright now, yeah." you said it more to convince yourself than him, but you had to start making moves, as much as you wanted to hold him in your arms and soothe whatever was going through his head, you had to get him out of here before they sent more of them down here, you knew you were counting down mere minutes before they would come.

"Johnny I'm going to cut you out and give you a stim, then we're going - we'll find somewhere to hold up for a bit then I'll call for evac." you were rushed in your movements, still careful with him to not hurt him any more than what he was.

With his hands now free, he brought them to his sides and tried to loosen his arms up a bit from where they had been stiff behind his back. Coming to his front, you gave him a stim and he became more aware of what was happening.

Standing tall, you held his sides, noticing his lack of balance. He sucked a breath in when he felt your hands come up on his sides - you were so gentle, he'd only felt calloused hands pressing into his body over the course of the past few days, and it felt comforting to have you holding him with such care.

With one last look up into his eyes, you told him to follow behind - just to trust you. He never doubted you for a second, the moment he'd known it was you who was sent to rescue him, he knew you'd get the both of them to safety - he admired your skill on the field, even if you didn't possess the same ability to believe you could succeed this.

Moving the chair from the door you flipped the switch, feeling one of Soap's hands come up to your shoulder - he didn't want to admit it to himself, but he knew this was going to take a toll on his mental state.

Opening the door, you took a deep breath and moved forward with Soap at your heel. Crouching back in front of the guy you'd taken out, you took his gun, and gave it to Soap behind you, which he gladly took - feeling more confident now he could aid you.

Heading up the stairs to the hatch, you both suddenly went stiff hearing the door open. Without much thought to pushed Soap further up the stairs whispering for him to leave and run into a valley - you'd be right behind him. His eyes remained on yours - he looked worried, he didn't want to leave you - he'd never forgive himself if you were hurt because he ran. With another push, he lifted the hatch - he trusted you, he had too.

Aiming the pistol you hit the first guy directly in the head, knocking him cold. He fell to the floor with a thud and before you could get a solid aim on the second guy, he shouted something in Arabic and suddenly you could hear chaos starting to ensue upstairs - all you could think was how the fuck you were going to do this now. Shooting the guy in the leg, he fell to the floor with a pained scream and you rushed out the hatch hearing several men shouting at each other. You could see Soap at an edge of a valley - it wasn't a far run, you could make this you were sure.

Without a second thought, you took off for the valley edge where you could see Soap prone aiming his gun. Suddenly bullets started to litter the ground around you and Soap could only do so much to fire back before they'd eventually get him to. Pulling the infamous smoke grenades from your belt you pulled the pin in one throwing it behind you and another one you threw in Soaps direction. With bullets still firing at nothing, you pushed your legs as fast as they'd go, and just as you got to where Soap was now stood, you felt a searing pain travel up your left arm.

"Fuck! Soap I've been hit" you gritted between clenched teeth, "carry on running, we need to find somewhere to bunker down for the next few hours while tensions calm".

Nodding his head in your direction, Soap continued forth with you in tow - you could both hear the men shouting from behind - they were gaining, but you were still ahead enough to hide. Feeling a hand grip your right arm, you were pulled into Soap's side in a crack big enough for the two of you. You could feel the beating of his heart and for a minute you felt yourself relax and just as you did the adrenaline started to wear off, and your arm was throbbing in pain.

Looking over Soap, he seemed to be okay - the stim hadn't worn off yet, and you still had another one for when it did.

Leaning his head down, you felt your heart pause - you felt yourself staring at his lips, wondering how they would feel pressed against your own, thinking that it'd be enough to distract you from the current pain you felt. You felt your hands running up his torso to lay on his chest, feeling his heart beat even faster if that was possible. He was warm despite the nipping breeze. Preparing to move your hand to his neck, Soap bent closer to your ear whispering for you to follow him. You felt stupid - of course, he wasn't about to kiss you in the middle of a mission, let alone ever - you had selfishly been misinterpreting his body's response as something else - he was hurt and tensions were high - you were stupid to think it had been anything to do with you. With that you dropped your arms back to your sides, flinching as you lower your right arm, and followed Soap deeper into this crack, seeing it led into a small cave - it was still cramped, but you'd live.

As you were about to open your mouth to speak, Soap placed his hand over it - silencing you from making any sound, clenching your thighs, you found yourself keening into his touch before coming back to your sense when you heard footsteps and Arabic being shared between people. Suddenly things got very real again and you felt Soap's over arm come across your waist and pull you into him - the both of you needed some sort of comfort right now, and the both of you relished in each other's warmth.

With quiet shallow breaths, the men passed by and you relaxed against Soap's chest. You felt safe with him behind you, you had been so anxious completing this mission that you felt back in your comfort zone being with Soap.

"Think we're okay now hen?" That stupid pet name he used had you smiling underneath the mask, you secretly loved how he only said it to you, but would always pretend it bothered you, which only made him tease you more.

With a staggered breath you turned to face him - you didn't realise how close you were, your noses almost touching but you didn't make the effort to move. "I think we're okay Johnny, for now at least, we'll wait a couple hours then I call for evac".

"How're you feeling?" you asked tentatively placing a hand under his cheek where there was a cut, careful not to press too hard - you never wanted to cause him pain.

Feeling bolder than usual, Soap placed a hand over yours that held his cheek - you felt your heart rate pick up, feeling his calloused skin run over your gloved hand and onto your wrist where your skin was exposed. He could feel the fast pulse within your wrist and wanted to ignore the dull ache in his body, noticing that the stim was starting to wear off. He stared into your open eyes, looking at him so full of admiration, and all he wanted to do was press his lips to yours in a searing kiss - so selfishly he wanted to distract himself with you. He'd seen you with your mask off once and the image was burned into his mind - he spent countless nights led in bed remembering how full your lips looked; how smooth your skin was - with a faded scar beneath your left eye; the way your hair perfectly parted down the middle with bangs that perfectly framed your face, and hair stopping at your shoulders; with a jaw so perfectly carved he wanted nothing more than to bury his face in the crook of your neck and place gentle kisses upon your jaw, trailing down to your neck - you were perfection to him, pure perfection and all those nights he'd relish in that memory thinking about your beauty, or fisting his hard cock - precum dripping from his tip as he imagined those full lips taking him in while he praised you from above as your doe eyes stayed locked on his.

Taking a sudden breath in as you felt the pain back in your arm, Soap was pulled from his thoughts with worry plastered over his face, "Oh yeah, I'm okay hen, the pain's starting to come back, but let's get you fixed up."

Even though he'd been through a torturous hell the last few days, your wellbeing was somehow on the forefront of his mind, it made your heart flutter unexpectantly. You couldn't allow him to sort you out first, you'd live, you'd been through much worse, but right now his wounds needed cleaning.

"No Soap, I need to clean your wounds before an infection starts to fester. Then we can attend to whatever I've got, but I'll live." He gave you a narrowed look, but the look you sent back made him remain silenced, you weren't going to let him help you.

Without much more talking you pulled your first aid kit from your back and asked him to remove his shirt. With a smirk he all but obliged and you rolled your eyes - Soap was still Soap. You noticed him struggling and helped him pull his gear over his head, placing it down next to him.

Staring at his body, all you wanted to do was admire him - despite all the marks that littered his torso, you thought he was the most beautiful man you had laid your eyes on. You saw his body stiffen and noticed the look of insecurity in his eyes, making you your face fall in sorrow - you didn't want him to feel like this, he didn't deserve to. Tracing his abs and some scars, you asked where it hurt most and he just let out a chuckle, "Everywhere hen, I couldn't tell you where to start".

Pulling the remaining stim out, you gave it to him and it again started to rapidly kick in. You took some disinfectant on a cloth and started to clean his wounds as he hissed in pain, letting small whimpers slip past his lips - you were doing everything not to clench your thighs right now, he was in pain, but the sounds coming from him were making you delirious - you'd be mad if you were to never make a move on this man - you'd dreamed of pulling those sounds from his mouth.

Feeling his hand grip your arm, you were pulled back to reality and continued cleaning him, whispering your apologies each time he'd grip your arm a bit tighter when it'd get too much for him to deal with. You wanted to press your lips to each wound and hope it'd cure his pain, you could see they had done a number on him, but luckily none of the wounds were too deep. You felt his ribs, seeing his skin was patched in a mix of purple and blue bruises - you could count 2 of them were broke, but a medic would have to confirm this. Placing gauze on his wound, you then wrapped his middle and placed your hand back on his chest - staring into his eyes.

"That any better Johnny?" you asked doe eyed, worry on your face that you hadn't done a good enough job.

"I dunno hen maybe a kiss would make me feel better." You felt yourself blush, you couldn't believe he was flirting with you out here, but maybe you actually had read the signs correctly earlier, maybe you weren't so stupid. Leaning down you pressed a lingering kiss to his head through the mask.

"Better now Johnny?" you asked, a smile forming on your face.

"A bit hen, just a bit" There was a pout on his face, you knew he wanted more, but you were on a mission and didn't want to risk your chances compromising it - you needed him to make it to the evac.

With a last stroke of his chest, you pulled back and helped him dress into his gear again. Turning away from the man you took a deep breath, you needed to get your head completely back into this misson.

"y/n?" you hummed back in response to him, "let me help you fix your arm up yeah?" You'd forgotten about the dull ache in your left arm and turned back to him with your medkit in hand.

In silence he gently took your arm into his own hands, you were only skimmed by the bullet luckily. He wet a new cloth in disinfectant and wiped over your wound, weary of your flinches, feeling guilty about the pain you were in. Wrapping your arm he ran his own hand up your arm placing it on the back of your neck, giving you reassuring strokes as you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch.

"You know I'm glad it's you that came Smoke" he admitted.

"Yeah?" you questioned back.

"Yeah." he confirmed staring sincerely into your eyes.

"You know I didn't originally want to come here Johnny. Price didn't give me much choice, to begin with, but when I found out it was you, I couldn't say no." you were building up a confession to him, hoping he'd read between the lines - you didn't want to admit to him directly how you felt, just in case you were wrong, you were full of doubt, suddenly becoming self-conscious under his gaze, "I was scared I was going to fuck it up like I fucked my last solo mission. I've been so scared I was going to get you killed this time, I still haven't forgiven myself for the rescue mission, you shouldn't have been the one to fix my failure Johnny, and this time I..." you felt yourself choking up, you didn't realise how deeply you really felt about things and found yourself pulling away, embarrassed at your confession.

Johnny could see how genuine you were being and it made his heart clench that you felt this way - he had been the first one to volunteer to go on the rescue mission - it was supposed to be Ghost's mission, but he convinced Price to let him go on it. He knows how scary of a day it was and how close to death you both were, but he'd do it again if it meant you were the last person he was with.

Pulling you back into him before you could pull yourself away too far, he brought your head to his chest carefully, making sure you weren't putting too much pressure on his torso. You were holding back your tears, you didn't want to break in front of him, but it was hard, a few escaped as his hand came up to cup the back of your head and stroke your hair gently. Without another word, Soap placed both hands on your masked cheeks and pulled you eye level to him, wiping the few tears that fell from your eyes with his thumbs. He didn't want to cross a line, and placed a tentative peck on your masked lips, watching as your eyes flutter closed. You couldn't believe it, without another thought you pulled your mask up, revealing your lips and nose, not feeling secure enough to completely remove it. Taking his chances, Soap placed his lips back onto your own, relishing in the feeling of the both of your lips moving in sync with each other. You felt in over your own head, keening into his body as the speed picked up between the both of you - small breaths getting caught between each other's lips. Soap moved his hand down to your neck, caressing the skin as he passed, and rested on your right breast, caressing it through your uniform. As his palming got needier, you let out a small moan, urging him to move from your lips to your jaw, placing gentle kisses before he nipped at your neck, being sure to leave small marks behind - he was marking you, and you had no issue with it, you'd let him mark your whole body in small love bites if he wanted to. With the both of your breaths picking up, and each other's hands getting needier for one another as a wetness started to pool between your thighs, making you clench them together - not going unnoticed by Soap who gave a deep chuckle at your desperation - a sudden dull shrill was sounded, echoing in the cave.

"Oh come on hen, do we really need evac yet?" you chuckled, pulling you mask back down and gave him a stern look.

"I'm sorry, but I think it's in both of our interests to call for evac - we both need medical attention; you more so, and we can always carry this on back at base hm" You stroked his pouting face, noticing the hardness in his jeans - you felt bad, but you knew you couldn't give into your own desires.

With one last huff from Soap, and a laugh from you, you called evac, and found they were about 40 minutes out. You'd probably been hold up in the small cave for a couple of hours and were sure it'd be safe to continue down the valley.

Pulling yourself up, and helping Soap to his feet, he gave you one last peck on your head, before you took lead, making sure it was safe to walk down the valley before pulling Soap alongside you.

In a comfortable silence, the both of you spent the next 30 minutes walking to the evac location, with no issue, apart from Soap almost tripping on a rock, which had you holding your laughter as he glared from your side.

The evac was close by - you could hear it. Soap pulled you from your thoughts staring into your eyes, "when we get back, we're not going to just forget this right?" you saw the vulnerability in his eyes and it made your heart ache.

"Johnny...no I- I would never do that to you, god no. I didn't go through all of this just to pull your leg and get back to base and ignore you like nothing had happened. I love you Johnny. I love you. I really do and I'm sorry it took me this long, I really am, I've been in denial for so long, just scared, but I'm ready and -"

"I love you too y/n, so fucking much" you could see his eyes well up at your confession, "I'm sorry it took me this long too, I think about that rescue mission a year ago all too much and find myself regretting every passing second where I didn't admit how much I cared about you, and while I was down there getting beat, all I could think about was how I potentially wasn't going to see you again."

You placed a hand on his cheek, bringing your heads together gently, "Johnny, I'd never let you die, never. I'd risk it all for you. We'll head back to base, get cleaned up, then we'll discuss things more okay? But I'm not letting you go - not now, not ever" and with that he placed a final kiss to your head just as the evac came into view.

Holding onto Soap, you helped him onto the evac as it landed - you knew he was perfectly capable, but you wanted to be close to him - it was an excuse.

~~~Time skip~~~

Back in England, you were both at the base - you having been treated by the medic quickly, and Soap having to stay for probably the next few days.

The nurse had relayed Price wanted you in his office for a debrief - you wanted to check in with Soap desperately but knew he was in safe hands, so you made your way to Price.

With a knock on the door you walked in without waiting for a response - you were so exhausted you didn't think.

"Yes, Seargent y/l/n, please come in, don't wait for me," Price said with a sarcastic tone to his voice. You laughed and gave a small apology to which Price gave a small smile to you in return.

"I told you, you'd do it" That bastard you thought, he was wearing a cocky smile on his face, and giving you a sympathetic stare at the same time. "Smoke, I put you on the mission for a reason - we've all seen the way you look at Johnny, we knew you'd get him out alive." They knew this whole time how you felt, were you really that obvious.

All you could do was respond with a quiet "oh" embarrassed at the fact the whole task force was able to read to you so clearly and had done for so long.

"Smoke. Work relations bring a lot of issues," you tried to interrupt, you didn't want to lose your only chance of happiness and contentment, but Price silenced you before you could get anything out, "hold on Smoke. While typically it can cause issues, I've pulled some strings for you and Soap, and you can both remain on the task force, while having relations if that's what you both want - you just need to keep your love lives separate from your work lives when your out on the field, okay?"

You instantly agreed, of course you and Soap could do that - neither of you would ever want to jeopardise your jobs, so you shook on the agreement to not let each other interfere with your jobs - you could be coworkers and lovers. With a goodbye, Price excused you and you were back at Soap's side who was sleeping peacefully - you knew he needed it after everything he'd been put through.

Sitting in the chair placed next to his bed, you took a hold of his hand, kissing the top of it before you too fell victim to exhaustion, closing your eyes, holding the hand of the man you loved.

[roo-bastmoon]

Let's talk about Yoongi and Taeyang

My thoughts and impressions of this episode are below the cut to avoid spoilers for folks.

Okay so first of all, let's all agree that our Lil Meow Meow was going THROUGH IT. He started fanboying before he could even get to the introduction and he was consistently twitterpated throughout the entire show. Adorbs.

I won't recap everything, but a few things stood out to me as significant insights into character.

Taeyang mentioned he used to eat only one meal a day. (As someone recovering from disordered eating, I have VIEWS about this but let me hush up and stay on topic.) Then he said when he served in the military, he had to eat three meals a day and do physical labor, so he gained 10kgs (22lbs). Which by the way is still a healthy weight. And he said he had to "work hard" to lose it again. I hate this. I hope all our boys come back from their time in the military used to regular meals, regular sleeping hours, a regular BMI and stick to it. They will have the power to reshape the standards of the industry if they refuse to make themselves fit into a smaller space. Just my opinion and I doubt I'll be changing it any time ever.

Taeyang said Jimin re-recorded their song 15 times. As far as I know based on the documentaries and Masterclasses I've watched from other famous musicians, singers, and songwriters, studio time is precious, even if you own the studio. Recording is expensive. A great deal of time is spent after recording on mixing the best takes to get to one master track. But our Jimin seems to have wanted to get it perfect all in one. He really does hold himself to a standard higher than most Grammy winners; I'm not kidding.

Yoongi then of course praises Jimin for his work ethic. The praise, THE PRAISE, Y'ALL. I LIVE. Jimin keeps working even when he cramps up in pain, our dear artist... Remember when he couldn't go to Jin's birthday party because he was recovering from muscle cramps? We called it; it was because of choreo.

Interesting how in the same breath, Yoongi compared Jungkook's organic genius to Jimin's effortful genius. I'm a huge Jikook fan but I don't want to make this out to be a shipping moment, because honestly it's just about styles of approach to work. And this isn't the first time we've heard this about Jikook as a unit. We hear it from members, producers, friends, choreographers, collaborators...

Yoongi also is sure to rat Jimin out about how much he mimicked and idolized Taeyang as a teen and it's like... you're saying this while admitting to doing the exact same thing and knowing all his songs, but still, it's super sweet. It reminds me of when Yoongi admitted to writing fanfic, lol. Even better is how Taeyang mentions several times he knows all of BTS' work. That's a discography of 200+, my friends.

But seeing Yoongi praise both Jimin and Taeyang so highly makes me wish that this episode came out before VIBE released. Maybe his trusted perspective would have softened the resistance many people felt toward supporting the project.

Especially because Taeyang really comes across as a good guy. He seems humble, considerate, grounded, a team-player, sensible, deep-thinking, and kind. He also seems to be focused on being a family man, making good music, and becoming a role model for the next generation. Now yes, both times I've seen him this way, he's appearing on TV to promote his single. But as far as we can know a celebrity while they are in front of a hot camera, I feel like his character is genuine enough, and I trust the tannies when they say they ALL admire and respect him deeply.

BTS has been around in the industry long enough to know when people are full of shit. And yeah, there are some seriously problematic assholes in Big Bang. There were legit scandals involving drugs and sex trafficking. I won't be rushing out to consume their products. But they did play a part in shaping BTS and Taeyang shouldn't be painted with the same brush just because he landed in the same group. He seems like someone who might have matured out of a lot of mistakes, like appropriating hairstyles or speaking on subjects outside his lived experience. I'm willing to give him a chance, here, in 2023, to get it right.

I also appreciate how honest and vulnerable Yoongi was and continues to be the moment he gets a few drinks in him. Talking about being so nervous without his members for That, That that he wanted to throw up. Mentioning the fear and disappointment when news of their hiatus caused all hell to break loose. Stating openly and without any qualifiers that he loves his members. To me, this is healing.

Yoongi was also adorable as fuck, let's face it. Giggly, blushing, toe-tapping, squirming, gushing, flirting Min Yoongi managed to ask Taeyang if he could produce a song for him (as if anyone in the world would say no thanks). And Taeyang is like "come over to my house and eat dinner with Jimin, I'll cook kimchi jiggae for you guys."

Oh and by the way, Taeyang and Joon apparently go to dinner and hang out and go to museums? AND WE WOULD NEVER KNOW. Do you know why? Because unless they choose to share aspects of their personal lives with us, WE DON'T ACTUALLY SEE THE MAJORITY OF THEIR PERSONAL LIVES. So just because you don't see evidence of members hanging out doesn't mean it doesn't happen. Everyone needs to chill about this with regards to Jikook. They went to ground around the same time that bullshit insurance premiums "scandal" broke and they've been to ground since. That's all.

Side note: Considering the shitstorm online earlier this week because Taehyung followed T-Top for a few hours on Instagram, I'm wondering if 2023 is the year most of the tannies stick to work-only promotions for their social media. You get burned enough, there's no payoff in sharing your vulnerable sides with strangers. It's such a shame, because we had a window to their inner landscapes, a glimpse at their real personalities and their real lives, but ruiners ruin everything. So a special Fuck You to people sending them hate for following or working with people you don't like. Know your place as a fan. Feel free to protest with your pocketbook but don't you dare talk shit and spread hate.

I digress. Back to Suchwita.

Taeyang advised Yoongi to surround himself with good people (members, staff, friends)... people who can tell him no. They had a great talk about staying realistic and humble, reminding themselves all things come to an end, being normal and grounded.

THIS is what makes BTS so easy to champion. They are uniquely talented, clearly the most hardworking, and even have streaks of artistic genius. But they forever remain set in a beginner's mind. They are the top dogs in their industry with an underdog mindset. I love this about them enough to set alarms to vote for awards and buy multiple copies of their work so they chart. I, Roo, who has never been to a popular music concert in all her 43 years; never been a groupie of anyone; never owned a piece of merch--I want them to succeed because I know they will never take it for granted.

And they keep it simple, even when it comes to how they work. Now, as someone who writes for a living and does bullet journaling every day as part of my therapy, I cannot tell you how delighted I was to learn that Yoongi writes with a pen and Taeyang with a typewriter. I am exactly the same. There's something intimate about it. I type more than 95 words a minute for work but it's not the same when crafting something personal. I also write original works better away from a designated work space--it's too much pressure to sit in a sterile environment and try to create. Real, meaningful words come from real, messy, organic moments in life. I just loved this level of detail in their conversation.

All in all, this was just such a great episode. I feel like I got to know both men better, was shown real insight into their mindsets, learned about their lives and work, and so I felt excited about VIBE.

Speaking of VIBE, we still need lots more sales to help Jimin get to Hot 100. Please contact accounts on twitter to get a gift card, make another itunes or amazon account, and buy it again, if you cannot persuade others to buy-in. Jimin worked so hard and wanted this so badly. I'm deeply troubled that ARMY couldn't cough up a buck-twenty-nine for him. It's like With You all over again. Unacceptable.

We are up against Miley Cyrus, Taylor Swift, and Sam Smith. We need the sales to get the points. We have a day and a half to get it right. PLEASE buy it.

We also only need 1.2 million more views on YouTube to get it to 50 million in its first week, so please stream today and tomorrow!

Consider it practice for next month, when PJM1 drops. Because by all accounts--from everyone who has ever worked with Jimin--he deserves it.

If you got this far, thanks for reading. Please feel free to share your thoughts in the comments!

Yours,

Roo

[limenysnocket]

Attention and Company

I couldn't help myself. @honorarytenenbaum

Summary: Sometimes you need someone to chill with, and that's okay. Maybe that person is your boyfriend who also gets a little roughed up at work sometimes. Pubs can sustain you both for only so long, but what you really need is to curb yourselves in the mall parking lot, right next to a shaved ice food truck.

Warnings: Just some light swearing, a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, and some brief mentions to "raunchy" behavior. This is a soft fic for y'all tonight, out here needin' some gentle lovin'.

A/N: Got some lonely feelings right now. I just wanna hug someone, dude. Yo, we could totally watch a movie over discord sometime... maybe.

○●□○●□○●□○●□○

Today sucked. Flat out. The bags under your eyes didn't lie, and now here you were, outside of your studio, sitting on the hood of your car, eating a granola bar to stave off hunger for a few more hours. Hopefully.

You pull your phone from your pocket, looking at the time for a moment, then looking at your screensaver. It was the only thing that could make you smile. You had your arm wrapped around one of your closets friends, Taika, and the phone didn't capture it, but he had his arm wrapped around your waist. His curls were all messed up, and the picture perfectly showed how drunk you both were by the fuzzy pink on your cheeks. It was 99 cent beer night at one of the local pubs, and unlike the first one held at a baseball game, all went well.

Of course, there was a limit to how much the two of you were allowed to drink, but that didn't stop the many failed attempts at stealing other people's drinks while they were looking away, just to get a taste more. Didn't matter that you guys were eventually thrown out of the bar for breaking rules and coming close to breaking a few faces, you had a great night.

That night also lead to a few other places, including his hotel room, but that end of the story has to be saved for another time.

Instead of staring at your phone for another century, you decide to unlock it and dial the man up. You knew he was somewhere around here, either charming his way onto another movie set to mess with his rich friends, or getting his tired ass kicked by daylight savings.

His number was saved to your favorites, so dialing him was quick and easy. The wait for him to pick up didn't last long either.

"Talk to me..."

God, his voice sounds like one big yawn. Looks like he needs a bit of perking up too.

"I've got two curbside tickets to eat a snow cone and watch kids do loops on their bikes in the parking lot. One of those tickets has your name on them," you grin, despite sounding exhausted too. The day really made you strain your voice.

His musical laughter really makes the sun look brighter from its low position in the sky.

"That's oddly specific... where would these magical tickets take me afterwards?" He had cocked his eyebrows up and leaned against his office door while he spoke to you.

"If this were a booty call, I would have told you already, Taik," you snort and tease him. "So, it's either make yourself fat on some weirdly flavored snow cone, or take your horny-ass home."

"Okay, okay... I'd like to make myself fat for a night, as long as your there," his voice is dreamy, desperate and warm. "You there already?"

"Nope," your lips pop the p, "but I'm nearby."

"I swear to God, if you're talking and driving, I'm gonna whoop your ass," Taika stood up, acting serious when he was just really worried about your safety in general.

"I'm not, I'm fine," you laugh again. "Not even in the car. Sitting on it though, trying to convince the world's sexiest man to go out with me again."

"And you said this wasn't a booty call," he retorts over the phone, making you playfully glare at the asphalt on the road. It's like he's in front of you.

"You coming or not?" you change the subject and you hear him laugh again, but softer.

"Yeah... I'll be there in a few minutes, gorgeous."

He always made goodbyes so easy. Maybe it was because you both knew you would be seeing each other again, no matter what circumstances you were thrown into. But the dial tone still had its effects.

You slip off the hood of your car, and take a seat in the driver's seat. The warm summer air makes your skin glow, and your brain went fuzzy only imagining it doing the same to Taika.

The drive feels so quiet. For a moment, you actually thought about calling him again, but you knew for a fact that he wouldn't pick up if he was driving.

As predicted, kids are zooming around on their bikes, showing off to their friends or trying to be cool, even though they all were obviously teary-eyed each time they scraped a knee. It was amusing to you and Taika, especially when some of the older boys would try to catch your attention and zip past you and Taika. It ended up being a heckle fest in the end, and some kid always went home with his butt hurt.

Keys and wallet in hand, you trek to the small, blue trailer tucked in the corner of the parking lot.

"Damn, you must have beat me here by just a few seconds," Taika calls, rustling his way through the small spaces between a couple of cars.

"Well, you've never been a speed demon type, so last place is your calling when it comes to racing," you guwaf and grin at him. He rolls his eyes and comes to walk right next to you.

"I pride myself on road safety," he hums, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

You glance at him from the side, just to silently check up on him. His hair was tousled and his eyes were resteless. It looks like he had it rough from the start. He had struggled to get dressed this morning, but picked the most eccentric clothes in his closet to make up from his lack of sleep.

"Dare you to try the dill pickle flavor this time," his cocky tone wakes you up.

"Like hell I will," you snort as you finally reach the trailer, where a teen boy happily greets the both of you.

"Oh come on, it'll be funny," he eggs you on, his bottom lip pouting.

"Keep trying to make me get dill pickle, and the next time we have a movie night together, I'm getting the pizza," you sniff and he rolls his eyes. He thinks it is an odd threat. "And I'm making it all Hawaiian pizza." That got his attention.

"Bull shit, you would never. Not on a perfectly good pizza!" He gasps.

"Oh, just watch me, pineapple boy," you snicker and point to his pineapple print shorts. You break conversation to order two piña colada flavored snow cones. Taika usually took for-fucking-ever when it came to picking a single flavor, so ever since the second time you've been out here with him, he assigned you to choose for him. He usually got what you got.

Now, you wait.

You plop yourself down on the curb, as you promised, and he joined you with a long, loud groan. You give him a bewildered stare, wondering if his age had really gotten him this much. He smiles at you through a wince.

"Sat on my keys," he wheezes and chuckles at his own stupidity under his breath.

Your eyes float down to where he pulls out his keys and you start giggling quietly.

"Oh, come on, I'm sure you've done the same thing," Taika says, not handling the fact that you have new material to mess with him, and also trying to get some stories out of you.

"Well yeah, but I don't sit down as violently as you do," you prod his bicep, and he laughs.

"Such a lady. Must sit down gracefully and slowly," he says, mocking an English accent, but he was horrible at accents so of course it was bad. You smack his bicep this time, and he playfully flinches, like it hurt.

"I really need to get you into some accent classes or some shit, before you get your teeth knocked out," you shake your head with a smile.

"What? I think I'm great at accents. My American accent is the best one yet, don't you think?" He smirks at you, and proceeds to demonstrate. "All you have to do is put an 'er' at the end of everything, right? That's totally how they speak around here."

"I would be careful, Mr. Waititi. Could get in some trouble if you say that too loudly," you roll your eyes, and he sighs. Yeah. Things were going to shit in LA. It was clear to everyone, but what could two hollywood producers do to stop things like that? Keep making films, you guess.

"Two, large piña coladas!"

You look up, and so does he.

"I'll get them," you volunteer, but he places his hand on your shoulder before you could get up.

"Let me," he speaks softly, in a damn near whisper.

He stands up and strides right over to the trailer with so much confidence, you're envious. He comes back with two large styrofoam cups in hand, spoons, and a warm smile. His smile was always warm. It set fire in your belly.

He sits down a bit more carefully this time, even though his car keys were sitting in the grass, far away from his landing zone. He hands you your cup and a spoon.

"Do these have alcohol in them?" He nudges you with your elbow and you shake your head.

"As if they would let a seventeen-year-old serve alcoholic beverages," you throw in logic.

"I dunno... ever been to a ballpark before? Pretty sure some of those kids are way too young to be peddling there too, but that doesn't stop people from hiring them," he says while pointing his spoon at you.

"Fair point," you finish, then look at your snow cone. You decide to start eating before it melts.

Silence swarms the air, but comfortably. There's the occasional murmur of cicadas or humming cars drowning them out. Birds would land on the scorching asphalt to pick at whatever crumbs were left by other patrons, before fluttering away at the sight of a zooming bike getting too close for comfort.

Taika will point out a few of the kids doing tricks. He picks his favorites for the night, and he keeps himself busy by watching them. You, on the other hand, are occupied with him. You examine him from the tips of his dirty white chucks, to his frazzled hairdo.

"You look like shit," you mutter. He barely pays you mind and that comment was hardly acknowledged. It was like the air had gone a bit stiffer. He was hiding something from you.

"What's going on, Taik?" you worry. He never kept things from you, unless they were hard to bear.

He sets his cup down and holds his hands together. He looks so tired. So solemn.

"Today was total shit," he whispers and runs a hand through his hair.

"Well, yeah, I get that. I wouldn't have known if you had looked a little spiffier," you say, reaching out and gently tucking a curl on his forehead back in place with all the rest of its friends.

"Look, I--..." he says, turning to you, lips parted slightly, and a yearning sensation bubbling from the tips of his fingers as he rests a single hand on you.

There were tough times with the occupancy you both, willingly, chose. The hardest part about it was making friends, or making love, then finding out you have to leave it behind for a new location the next morning.

"I have to leave... for Sydney..." he says, reaching to gently take your cheek into the palm of his hand.

"When?" you manage, though you were clearly becoming upset.

"In a few weeks. Thor is waiting for me," he sighs, barely able to look at you while his thumb rubbed your ample cheek.

"And what does this have to do with me?"

"I don't want to leave you," he says, tilting your head up just the slightest bit. "And I don't want to stop loving you."

Your eyes search his for a moment, wide and a bit confused.

"I thought you said we were just a fling with--"

He cuts you off, "A fling with benefits. I know..." he sighs again, "but every time I find myself waiting for you to call on a shitty day, each time you rest your head on my shoulder, all the times you smile at me and tease me, I find myself falling... more in love with you." He has to pause to breathe.

It's so quiet. Dangerously quiet.

"What happens if I love you too...?" you muster your courage, and look right into his expressive, brown eyes.

"I don't know," he says to you, thumb still rubbing circles.

"Guess there's only one way to find out, huh?" you breathe, and he nods.

Still as statues, you wait for words to touch the air. It's only when his foot makes a wrong move and knocks over his snow cone, does the tension break.

His bottom lip pouts for him again and you quietly pick his spoon up off the ground. You clean it on your shirt and hand it to him, all before taking your cup, and holding it out to share. He smiles down at you, taking his spoon from your hand and sticking it into the shaved ice.

Your head leans against his shoulder when the sun disappears behind the mall building.

"I love you too," you whisper.

"I know," he says back, sucking at the tip of his spoon.

"Think we can keep this up over the phone?" you ask, wondering about a brief virtual relationship, just until one of you catches a break.

"Guess there's only one way to find out, huh?" he says, lowering his spoon, wrapping his arm around you, and giving you his full attention.

[caswellprmanager]

the caswell wears prada

read it on ao3!

Summary: EJ's style is simple and functional but Ricky discovers he's capable of more than just letterman jackets and white sneakers. (Part 4 of my trans!ej and genderqueer!ricky AU.)

Author's Notes: I have this little headcanon that EJ used to model baby clothes when he was a baby. Then only went back to modelling once he transitioned to the point he was comfortable enough. Also not me giving Ashlyn's parents a purpose except for just leaving the house empty enough for Ashlyn to throw parties. Hope you guys enjoy!

Warning: Implied Sexual Content at the very end but since it's not explicit, I'll just let y'all use your imaginations.

Ricky has almost exclusively seen EJ in basic white boy clothes. It's usually just a nice fitting t-shirt, some branded jacket, jeans, and branded sneakers. It's not exactly avant-garde but Ricky can appreciate the fact that EJ has found a distinct style that's both understated yet elevates his already good looks.

But from what Ricky has learned in the few months that they've been dating EJ is that just because he dresses like that, it doesn't mean EJ does not have an eye for fashion.

Ricky learned this one day when the two of them were hanging out with Gina and Ashlyn at Ashlyn's house.

Ashlyn's mom was the Editor-In-Chief of an editorial fashion magazine that focuses on highlighting brands that promote sustainable fashion. She also runs a design company herself. Every other minute, she'd be going in and out of her design studio with a phone against her ear and a different meter of fabric in her hands. Her job is also the reason why Ashlyn's parents aren't usually home. Ashlyn's mom would be invited to different fashion events or she'd meet with a client about a new start-up. Ashlyn's dad accompanies her so that she wouldn't overwork herself.

None of that is new to Ricky. What is new, however, is EJ's involvement in her work.

"Ashlyn!" Mrs. Caswell rushes in, a hundred different scarves wrapped around her neck. Ricky wonders if she can breathe beneath all that cashmere and silk. "Darling, I need your help."

"What is it, mom?" Ashlyn asks, pausing the movie the four of them were watching.

Instead of responding, Mrs. Caswell just runs back to her home studio with a hurried click of her heels. Ashlyn looks at the rest of the group with a shrug, moving to stand up until her mom comes rushing back in – this time with a little purple hat perched on her strawberry blond locks.

"EJ, sweetheart! You come too. I need your opinion on a few things." Before any of them could say anything, she's disappeared back into her studio in a flurry of scarves and sequins.

EJ doesn't even bat an eye and moves to follow his cousin out of the living room. Ricky grabs his hand before he could leave, asking him what Ashlyn's mom wants his opinion on. EJ isn't exactly Paris Fashion Week, if Ricky was gonna be honest.

EJ just smiles, placing a chaste kiss on Ricky's lips before saying, "I'll tell you when we get back."

With that statement, Ricky and Gina are left alone, both feeling more confused than before.

"Does that happen often?" Ricky asks Gina, who is picking through the popcorn bowl.

"Ashlyn's mom being weird?" Gina tosses a popcorn kernel up into the air before catching it into her mouth flawlessly. "I've seen Ashlyn help her a few times. But I haven't seen her call EJ into that room before."

"Yeah..." Ricky picks at a loose thread on their jeans. "Didn't really peg EJ as the fashionable type."

Gina pauses in her pursuit of the perfect popcorn kernel and raises a questioning eyebrow towards Ricky. "Hold up... EJ never told you?"

"Told me... what?" Ricky started to panic a little bit. They never liked hearing ominous phrases like that from other people. It fuels their already present anxiety about dating someone who is way out of their league like EJ – someone who could leave Ricky at any time if they realize that Ricky will never be good enough for them.

Gina seems to realize this quickly enough and she tries to diffuse the situation before it gets worse. "Oh! No no no, Ricky, it isn't bad!"

"Then what is it?" Instead of answering, Gina just looks over shoulder at the direction of where the Caswell Cousins went to. After a few seconds of making sure the coast is clear, she tilts her head and motions for Ricky to follow her.

Gina leads Ricky to the spare guest room that EJ occupies sometimes when he doesn't want to sleep at home. In fact, sometimes this room is literally just called EJ's extra room because he's here so frequently. Ricky's napped here a couple of times so it isn't a new place. But he's usually too tired to explore it due to some recent emotional problem or another.

By the far wall is a dresser that Ricky hasn't ever thought to look through. Gina beckons him to come closer as she opens the bottom drawer.

"Ashlyn showed me this when I first moved in. We had to call EJ immediately after because I just had... so many questions." After a few seconds of rummaging, Gina brings out a small stack of magazines triumphantly.

Ricky recognizes the magazines immediately as the same ones Ashlyn's mom is the Editor-In-Chief for.

"Are those...?" Ricky asks and Gina nods excitedly, motioning for him to sit down next to her. The two of them peer through the old issues together, pointing at things they think would look nice on them.

Before they turn to the middle spread, Gina turns to them with a serious look in her eye. "Ricky, I need you to brace yourself."

Ricky tilts their head in confusion. "For what?"

"Just," And Gina can't even hide her giddy little smile. "Get ready."

Ricky can't even bring themself to respond before Gina is showing them the middle spread of the magazine. Their mind skids to a halt when they see a younger EJ staring back at them from the glossy pages, dressed head to toe in the finest three-piece dress suit Ricky's ever seen.

And it isn't just that, EJ's all over the spread – dressed in all kinds of outfits. From gorgeously crafted lace button downs to tastefully styled overcoats – EJ models the shit out of them. Ricky scans the pages in awe because they've never seen EJ wear stuff like this. Sure, they've seen EJ in a suit during homecoming but not one with embroidered roses across the vest or paired with diamond encrusted gold jewelry.

Gina turns the page and Ricky lets out a small gasp.

It's a two page Ashlyn and EJ spread – the cousins looking absolutely ethereal dressed in the most delicate fabric embroidered with flowers along the seams. Their skin is glowing beneath the sunset, the light catching at the highlights on their cheekbones. But what really got to Ricky is one very small but powerful detail:

The flowers along EJ's shirt and the makeup he's wearing are in the trans flag colors.

"Ricky, look." Gina points at the small interview portion at the corner of the page, smiling when Ricky reads it and realizes that it's about EJ.

E.J. Caswell – Teen Transgender Model

"I've been avoiding modeling since I started transitioning and coming back to it was really scary." Says teen model E.J. Caswell. "But when my aunt gave me the opportunity to finally speak my truth through fashion, I knew that I wouldn't regret this decision in the long run."

"There are still so many moments where I hate my body. It's gonna take a while until that goes away. And maybe it won't. Ever." E.J. tells us with a sad smile. "But this is a start – and I get to style some really cool clothes while I'm at it!"

When Ashlyn Caswell was asked about the significance of this project to her cousin and to future transgender models, she smiled softly, making it abundantly clear how much she adores her older cousin. "E.J. is one of the bravest people I know. He's always been an inspiration to me and I'm so proud of him for doing this on his own terms. Plus, I'm really happy he asked me to be a part of it with him. But don't tell him I said that! I'll never hear the end of it."

"She said that?" E.J. said with barely concealed glee. "Aww, Ashlyn!"

Ricky and Gina giggle at the mental image of EJ probably giving an exasperated Ashlyn a big bear hug after his interview. Ricky can't help but stare at the spread again, lightly trailing his finger over EJ's face with a soft smile. He really is so beautiful. Ricky sometimes can't believe that someone as gorgeous as EJ is real.

"Looks like Gina beat me to it."

The sound of EJ's voice by the doorway makes the two of them freeze and turn to see both Caswell cousins looking at them with knowing smiles. But Ashlyn and EJ weren't wearing what they were wearing before Ashlyn's mom called them for help.

Instead, Ashlyn was wearing a floor length pink chiffon dress with embroidered roses scattered along its sleeves and body. EJ was wearing a dress shirt of similar color and material, pairing it with white dress pants and a ruby encrusted rose broach.

"Well look at you two supermodels!" Gina squealed in glee, bounding over to gush over Ashlyn's outfit. Ricky stays rooted in their spot on the floor, their eyes never leaving EJ's. EJ approaches them slowly and takes a seat on the bed next to Ricky. He moves into an effortless pose, making Ricky blush more than necessary.

EJ smiles at them, eyes sparkling mischievously. "Hi."

"H-Hi." Ricky says, moving to face EJ with shaky legs. "You look nice."

"Just nice?" EJ leans down with a smirk, a lock of hair falling to his forehead like some goddamn romance movie. Ricky didn't even notice that even his hair was styled differently. Was EJ growing his hair out? Why didn't he warn me?

"I'd say something dirtier but I don't wanna traumatize the girls." EJ laughs at that and Ricky could only stare at the way EJ throws his head back with the most beautiful smile they've ever seen.

This isn't fair. EJ is sitting here looking like he was plucked straight out of a Vogue magazine while Ricky's sorry ass is on the floor in pajama pants and an old hoodie. Fuck. They should have texted Kourtney for help with their outfit today.

"You're so cute," EJ leans forward even closer, so close that EJ's able to lightly graze their noses together. "Maybe I should dress like this more often to make you blush like that."

Ricky contemplates on the statement for a bit, imagining what it would be like if EJ were to wear more designer clothes to school everyday. EJ right now certainly looks confident and cool. Plus, he gets the added bonus of Ricky looking extra flustered around him.

But at the end of the day, it's EJ's body and EJ gets to choose whatever makes him feel good.

Besides, Ricky fell for EJ without all the bells and whistles.

"You don't have to wear fancy clothes to make me think you're gorgeous." Ricky says before they can stop themself from saying it. But it's out now and there's no turning back. EJ's eyes widen but they eventually soften after processing what Ricky said.

"It doesn't matter what I think, though." Ricky says, reaching for EJ's hand. "What matters is that you're happy. Whether you're wearing a potato sack or Versace. As long as you feel comfortable and you're seeing your favorite self in the mirror, I'll tell you that you're the most handsome boy in the world."

Ricky scoots closer to place a soft kiss on EJ's nose before pressing their foreheads together. Ricky can't really tell who's smiling wider from this angle but they didn't care.

"My handsome boy." Ricky whispers, lightly tracing EJ's bottom lip with their thumb. EJ smiles even wider at the sound of that and it never fails to make Ricky happy seeing EJ so happy.

They're about to move in for another kiss when they hear Ashlyn cough from the doorway.

The two of them separate abruptly, both blushing profusely as the girls giggle behind their hands.

"We'll leave you two alone," Ashlyn says, grabbing Gina's hand to pull her back to the living room. "I'll tell mom you'll be late for dinner."

As soon as the door closes behind the girls, Ricky turns back to a still blushing EJ, a small but urgent thought manifesting to the front of their mind.

"I should take this off-" EJ doesn't even get the chance to finish his sentence before Ricky is pushing him down on the bed and straddling his hips. "R-Ricky?"

Ricky smirks, placing a single finger on EJ's lips as they lean forward to whisper in his ear,

"I'll help you take it off." EJ lets out the smallest whimper at that but Ricky shushes him, blowing against his earlobe. "But you have to be quiet, handsome."

As soon as EJ shakily nods his head yes, Ricky gets to work.

Unfortunately, they're more than a little late for dinner.

---

A/N: I've added some reference pics below if y'all want a better image of what EJ and Ashlyn were wearing hehe :>