#but I'm grateful for the warm reception it got

[wataksampingan]

The seventh day of the new year in Chinese mythology is celebrated as the day humans were created.

So for you on your birthday, a wish:

O Rat, be shrewd, be light, may you find the way forward

O Ox, be resilient, be patient, may you remain kind to all

O Tiger, be bold, be strong, may you run fast to bring courage

O Rabbit, be graceful, be nimble, may you jump over each obstacle

O Dragon, be powerful, be generous, may you fly free to give life

O Snake, be wily, be flexible, may you move in ways unexpected

O Horse, be swift, be undaunted, may you rise up every time

O Goat, be gracious, be merciful, may you make all warm and welcome

O Monkey, be clever, be resourceful, may you find everything needed

O Rooster, be bright, be alert, may you herald each new beginning

O Dog, be spirited, be playful, may your joy multiply and overflow

O Pig, be full, be peaceful, may you show all how life should be

Happy birthday, everyone.

[jamjaemin]

꒰ "Be brave, Angel" ꒱ 彡 ♡ ⋆｡˚ (m.l and h.l)

summary:you want your first tattoo. but are you ready to deal with who will do this to you?

Word count: 6k!

Pairing: tattooartist!mark × tattooartist!haechan × f!reader

Content: fuckboy!mark/haechan, slutty!reader, Praising, petnames(good girl, princess, ect), friends with benefits,teasing ,threesome, double penetration (pussy and ass), ass and pussy spanking, unprotected sex,creampie ,no mention of aftercare :( , lmk if i miss any.

A/n:This is based on the poll I posted before I know y’all voted the most for mark but some besties wants them both like I don't blame them bc I'm down bad for this two. I'm literally busy but yeah here it is I hope you like it, thanks for your time bestie, enjoy♡.

the soft tinkling of bells rang out as you opened the studio door, but your nerves were so sensitive that you flinched as if the sound had been amplified by large speakers. The frigid air inside the studio ruffled the hairs on your arms and you pulled your cardigan tighter around you, immediately recognizing the soft music playing in the background.

If this was a visit like one of the other times you’ve been here with your friends, for company and support in getting their tattoos and piercings, then you would have been able to once again admire the modern decor and beautiful artwork hangs on the walls - all strategically placed to catch the attention and arouse the interest of clients.

But this was no ordinary visit. For once you weren’t here for your friends. You were here for yourself.

No one but you and Johnny knew of your intention to get your first tattoo and you didn’t want to change that, wanting to surprise your friends since they had been encouraging you to get it for years.

That was weeks ago, and frankly, you’d almost forgotten that you’d expressed that wish to Johnny. At least until you got a message from him, asking you to come down to the studio as soon as possible to see the finished artwork that he would use as a base to finally get your tattoo done. You weren’t nervous until that moment.

But when the possibility of getting a tattoo stopped being a ‘possibility’ and became a matter of 'when’, you started to regret your own decision.

It’s been three days since you received the message and only today did you pluck up the courage to come to the studio.

But judging by the way your hands were cold and clammy you didn’t think you had mustered enough courage.

Swallowing down the nerves you took a deep breath and looked towards the reception desk, but there was no one there.

Oh.

You are completely alone.

That means there’s still time to turn around and walk out the same door you just came through, right? Yes right. It would be the perfect excuse.

“Well, at least I tried.” You said softly, already turning towards the exit.

“Y/N?” The melodious sound of Haechan’s voice interrupted your hurried steps, and you squeaked through your teeth, knowing it would be very difficult to escape now. 

“Y/N! Wait, what are you doing here? Are you expecting one of your friends?” He asked already walking towards you, not noticing - or choosing to ignore - the tense expression on your face, choosing to hold his arms out to you in an invitation to hug.

“Hi, Hyuck. Uh, not really, not exactly…” You replied, accepting his warm hug. When he let go and looked at you questioningly, you sighed.

“I’m here because Johnny said he finished the artwork I asked him to create. I’ve been talking to him about getting a tattoo.” The last part you said in a whisper.

“Really?” He smiled brightly in response and added,“if that’s what you really want, you can bet it’ll all be worth it when the job is done.”You brightened up a bit, nodding slowly and offering him a gentle smile, silently grateful for his support.

The nervous knot in your stomach felt a little less dull thanks to hyuck's sweet words.“But I’m afraid unfortunately we can’t do that today, dear.” He said in an apologetic tone, looking disappointed in himself.

You furrowed your brows and cocked your head in confusion, waiting for his next words. 

“Johnny isn’t even here. Today he went to a family meeting, as we’re near to closing time for the studio, he’s already left.”

Closing time?You looked up at the clock on the wall, blushing and stuttering an embarrassed response when you saw that he was right, the hand almost reaching the closing time mark for the studio.

You squealed with your hands over your mouth.“Oh my God! I’m sorry. I didn’t even pay attention to the time. I should have checked the time before coming.”

Damn, it was just like you to be embarrassed like that.

“Hey, no need to apologize, if i know where's the artwork I would have done it myself. I’m sure Johnny wouldn’t mind staying after hours to see you, but he really can’t miss this meeting.”

“D-don’t worry about it, really. I’ll come back another day, it’s no problem to-”

“I’ll attend her.”

You both looked at the source of that voice, both of you surprised by the sudden appearance of someone else in the room.

There, casually leaning against the doorframe, taboo clutched between the long fingers of one hand, the other comfortably tucked into his pants pocket, was mark lee.

His body was covered in black clothes as usual. Combat boots and jeans, a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the numerous tattoos on his arms.

“Oh, mark, this is Y/N, she’s the client of-”

“I know who she is. I said I’ll attend her, the art is in my office along with the others.”

The abrupt cut left your cheeks red and you looked away at the man beside you, leaving them to stare at each other in the tense silence afterwards.

You were about to say that you didn’t need him to attend to you, but Haechan spoke first.

“That would be amazing”

You heard Mark breathe a little bit heavily, the sound piquing your curiosity until you looked up at him, seeing that his gaze had now fallen on you – disturbingly bored and somehow still so intense.

He keeps looking at you like he’s sizing you up with that sleepy look; like he’s trying to understand you just by the way you’re standing there next to his friend and your friend bc you talked with hyuck comfortably so many times but mark...you didn’t have the chance.

The man before you doesn’t seem the least bit concerned that you’ll find his obvious inspection impolite.

No, instead he just stares you down from head to toe completely, undisguised and not saying a word as he does it twice. By God, twice!You always felt like there was a suffocating tension surrounding the two of you, even though you haven’t exchanged a single word with each other in the months you’ve been in the studio with your girls.

You always told yourself that it was all in your head, but when he looked at you like that it was almost impossible to control your own thoughts.

With a shudder you break your gaze and fix your attention on Haechan again.

“No, don’t worry about it. I can come back another day, I really don’t want to disturb anything.” You said pulling away, but Haechan’s grip on your hand didn’t allow you to go very far.

“Wait. Mark is an amazing professional and I don’t think there could be anyone better than him to get your first tattoo, not even Johnny.”You fought back the urge to say that you had serious doubts about that, especially given the look of sheer boredom on the man’s face and all that awkwardness surrounding the two of you.

He didn’t seem like someone capable of offering emotional support and allaying your fears.

“Fine. Lock the door when you leave.” He set the tone for the end of the conversation before you could argue, but you heard hyuck whispering to mark before he turn and head back inside "leave? take care of her until i comeback" giving him a playful wink.

“you, follow me.” You watched his broad back disappear from view, then turned your eyes to Haechan, smirking at you like he knows you were scared to get your first tattoo. His joy was so intense that you didn’t have the heart to say the things you were thinking, instead offering a forced smile and a gentle hug before walking away to follow his friend.

“see you” You waved at him stepping into the hallway that led to the tattoo and piercing procedures.

"I'll join you soon baby" haechan whispered to himself.

You didn’t know how to react around him and you were afraid it was obvious from the almost robotic way you followed him.

Even on your other visits to the studio, you hadn’t spent more than a few minutes in the man’s presence. Always mysterious and elusive, you noticed over the course of visits that he preferred to work in the back, creating fine art for inspiration and serving specific clients by appointment directly with him. And the few times you saw him it was always the same awkwardness as usual, the same disturbingly intense stares and a total of zero verbal interaction.

He just slowly cooked you up in an excess of visual intensity and then was gone.And now he said he would get your tattoo.God, you didn’t think you could be more nervous than you are right now.

Mark doesn’t say anything to you as he places the book on top of a small table in the corner, heading over to the alcohol spray bottle and disposable wipes, using both to sanitize the black leather high recliner chair you’ll be sitting in for the next few hours. You just watch him, nudging the toe of your sneakers into the other as a distraction as you wrap the cardigan more tightly around your body.

When he’s finished sanitizing the chair you understand it’s your cue and, sucking in a deep breath, you push your legs to move to the padded chair, your body feeling like heavy lead as you just imagine the pain that will come from shoving a needle in your skin. You settle into the chair, hands clasped on your thighs and body taut as a bow, staring at mark’s work like a frightened hawk. If he had noticed how nervous you were - and you really think it would be hard for anyone not to - he said nothing about it, opting to continue his preparation silently.

His moves are practiced, probably memorized after so much time working at it, and he barely looks at you, completely focused on his little world. The only time he stopped what he was doing and gave you any attention was to hand you a clipboard.

“Before we get started I need you to read and sign this if you agree to the terms.”You nod and he immediately goes back to what he was doing, leaving you alone to read through paragraph after paragraph of the studio’s consent and disclaimer if the job doesn’t turn out exactly the way you wanted it to.

You found it really hard not to approve the final work, given what you already knew about the team and their perfect artwork. But you found such terms understandable and necessary, as working with the public could be challenging at times.

You’ve read the document almost through when a sound of packages opening catches your attention and you look away to the man in front of you. None of your friends had done any procedures with mark, despite their many efforts and attempts to make an appointment, but here you were, waiting for him to finish preparing the materials to get your tattoo done. You couldn’t believe it.

He was attractive in a way that would make a woman swoon. His eyebrows were full and his ears were decorated with a variety of piercings and when he turns to grab something from the top shelf you find yourself fighting an appreciative sigh as you get a clear view of his profile, everything about him was appealing.the sight causes the already visible blush on your face to deepen to an even more embarrassing degree.

The sound of a new song starting up snaps you out of your reverie and you stare awkwardly at the clipboard in your hands, deciding that you definitely assent to all the terms and quickly signing your name at the bottom - your handwriting not as graceful as usual, due to the way your hand is slightly shaking.You hand him the clipboard and he places it on the table next to other documents, turning his attention to the materials.

You see him sort out alcohol, wipes, packets of disposable needles, and a small container of ink, all neatly arranged in a straight line on a tray that he brings over to the leather chair you’re sitting in. He sets it down on the side table, along with the pistol and stencil he would use as a base for your art, pulling a stool on wheels next to your chair.

“The tattoo will be in the rib area, right? Under the breast.” He asked quietly, sitting down on the stool. You looked at him curiously through your lashes, surprised that he already knew the location of your tattoo.

“Y-yes, how do you know?”

“johnny told me.” That’s all he told you about it and, surprisingly, that’s all you needed to understand. “Alright. I need you to take your shirt off.”

He says without looking you in the eye, unflappable and confident, putting the pair of black gloves on his hands with a final snap that only served to make you even more agitated.

While you logically knew that you would need to go topless for this particular tattoo, there was an extra nervousness about doing it in front of him. And you knew it was because it was him, because that self-conscious nervousness wasn’t there at the time when you thought johnny would be doing the procedure.

But there was no choice, and besides, he wasn’t being anything but professional with you. Surely he’s seen a lot more exposed skin than that during procedures.

With a sigh of courage and decidedly rosy cheeks, you pulled the cardigan from your body, quickly doing the same with the light shirt you wore underneath, tucking both into your backpack.

You bite your lip and rub your hands on your thighs, focusing on feeling the material of your skirt against your skin in an attempt to calm yourself down. But your efforts go down the drain when he looks up at you, that disinterested, half-lidded look opening for the briefest of seconds as he looks down at your black push-up bra hugging your breasts. You nearly choke on your saliva because, by God, for two seconds you’re sure a purely appreciative look danced across that bored expression of his.

But then, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

“Lie down please so I can sanitize the area.” He grumbled letting the disposable mask rest on his chin, and amidst your mental daze you wonder if he only has black items to use.

You comply, lying back on the soft leather, looking up at the ceiling. You almost jump at the feel of the icy liquid on your skin, instantly shivering at the sensation. The smell of antiseptic hits your nose and you try to breathe more slowly, feeling the circular movements of cotton on your sensitive skin.

“I’ll paste the stencil now.”

As you watched, his fingers smoothed over the stencil, the dark outline showing against your skin. He slowly removes the paper and your gaze strays momentarily to his mouth, his lush lips catching your attention as he nibbles on his lower lip in concentration. You blush and look away quickly, afraid of being caught. It takes a moment for you to realize he’s talking when you turn your attention and notice his lips moving.

“See if you like the position and design. Don’t hesitate to say if you don’t like something, the time for changes is now.” He says it more seriously than any of the times he’s addressed you tonight (which hasn’t been many), voice low and direct, wanting you to understand the importance of this moment.

You swallow and accept the round mirror he hands you, positioning it so you can see the art. Your lips part immediately.

“Oh.”

The delicate butterflies and hearts stretches across your rib cage, just below your breast, rising just a little up the side. The way the design undulates naturally, as if a particular breeze is constantly on your skin, gently shaking your tattoo. You find yourself smiling at the beauty and elegance of the art. It wasn’t a large or very ornate tattoo; you were absolutely sure that mark had already done tattoos infinite times more complex than this one. But it was beautiful. Beautiful in an undeniable way, an art made obviously by gentle and skilled hands.

“It’s…it’s beautiful. I love it.” You say quietly, still turning the mirror to observe the design from all angles, a soft smile on your lips.

Mark didn’t respond immediately and you looked away from the mirror to see the cause of the silence. You felt your smile lessen at the way he was looking at you, specifically at your lips. That realization brought butterflies to your stomach, your cheeks flushing again. He didn’t speak up when he realized you’d caught his gaze, eyes rising to look at your flushed cheeks, then locking into your slightly widened eyes.

“Hmm, can we get started then?” He questioned quietly, still looking at you in that disturbing way, pulling the mask to cover the lower half of the face.

“Y-yes, please.” You said, handing the mirror back to him with trembling fingers. Even with the mask on you heard the amused snort and couldn’t help but feel even more embarrassed. The laugh itself was low and silent, just above a rumbling, guttural breath. It made you feel silly and childish.

Great, now he thought you were an idiot.

“This is a pretty sensitive area, so it might be uncomfortable. I need you to take a deep breath for me. I’ll start with a simple line and you tell me how your pain tolerance is, okay?”

You stiffen but nod, doing as he asks. He grunts a little, satisfied with your compliance, but you barely hear it over the now-screeching sound of the pistol.

“Here we go.”

You bite your bottom lip hard with the initial sting. It hurts. It’s not uncomfortable as he mentioned earlier. It’s painful, really painful. Your small hands curl into fists on the chair and you struggle to breathe slowly, trying to focus on that instead of the stinging pain in your skin. He goes on with the simplest strokes for a few minutes and you’re rigid as a rock during the whole process.

“Hey, you’re okay?”

He pulls the needle away from your skin for a few seconds and you take the opportunity to sigh in relief, refusing to open your eyes because you know they’re teary and you definitely don’t want him to think you’re a crybaby.

“Y-yes, fine, you can continue.” You respond, praying your statement sounds confident enough for him to believe it and continue.

But he doesn’t continue.

“Open your eyes.”

You shake your head slightly, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes.

“Y/N, open your eyes for me.” He orders harder, the fingers that are still flat on your stomach pressing your skin a little to get your attention.

Having him say your name that way makes you gasp softly, obeying what he says after a deep breath.

As you knew, the act of opening your eyes causes the accumulated tears to fall, streaming down the sides of your face. You sniff and blush harder, feeling the weight of his gaze on you - so intensely dark, like the sky in a quite night.

“It’s okay to cry. This is a pretty sensitive area and, after all, it’s your first tattoo.” Despite the look of boredom, his words are spoken in a reassuring, deep tone that immediately works to quell the worst of your nervousness.

You nod and wipe the tears with your fingers. He waits for you to calm down as he draws slow circles on the skin of your stomach, and despite the fact that you’re pretty sure this gesture isn’t entirely professional, you still feel better about his patience. You’re honestly surprised by this, as his overall expression suggested nothing but utter disinterest. But you accepts the kindness with open arms.

Suddenly the door opened slowly and it's hyuck, his gaze never leaving your face as he start clicking his tongue teasingly before he said “my little girl crying?”

“Can we try again?” mark said looking back at you.

This time you nod more confidently, a small smile on your tearful face and it’s convincing enough that he accepts with a satisfied grunt.

Hyuck gets closer to you and brush his hand softly on your cheek calming you down, neither his words or gestures seems just friendly but you didn't have time to focus on that when all you can feel is pain.

The pistol buzz returns and you make an effort to be more relaxed this time, humming softly to the music playing through the speakers.

“Do you like this song?” he asks casually and you jump an inch as you feel the needle again in your skin, the pain returning as before. But you try to focus on his question.

“Yes, very much.” You say with some difficulty, but glad you have something you can use as a distraction while he continues tracing the painful lines on your skin. The needle scratching your skin in a more sensitive part now, if that was possible, and you squeal a whimper. Mark looks up at you and you smile weakly, waving to say that everything was fine.

Haechan bite his lower lip softly at your words feeling his cock twitching from how hard he is seeing you like that but after some time he decided to complete tatting you to forget about it and that's how they exchanged roles.

He hums thoughtfully and then is silent, long enough for you to think he’s not going to say anything else. But then he speaks.

“Ready, princess?”

You blush at the nickname, but try not to imagine too much. "Yes I'm ready" you breathed.

“That’s my girl,” he turns to your ribs as you try your best not to feel dizzy - whether it was from the object currently stabbing your skin or the words that had just come out of hyuck’s mouth, you didn’t know.

He swallows thoughtfully, the movement making his Adam’s apple rise and fall, immediately drawing your attention to his neck.

You shyly bite your lip as you stare at the tattoos visible across his skin; the striking features of a butterfly right in the center of his throat, the lush wings spread out to either side. A single rose in the space just behind his studded ear. The top of a dragon’s head peeking through the collar of his black shirt, indicating a larger tattoo spread across his back and biceps.

You swallowed hard.

“Hm, do you like my tattoos that much?.” He asked after a while of silence, pulling back a little to look at your tattoo from a different angle, pulling you out of your thoughts. Long fingers gripping your ribcage area firmly, but gently massaging every now and then, making your mission to ignore the signals more difficult by the second.

And so you two go on for a little over one hour, the excruciatingly long time it takes for your tattoo to be done. You cry sometimes and wince at others, but haechan is patient and so as mark who was sitting across from him watching his work more likely watching you.

Of course, you try to remember that they are professionals and that they probably do this for his other clients. But it’s hard not to feel special when they're so nice.

Sometimes you feel hyuck's fingers caressing your skin in a way that you suspect is beyond what a professional needs to do, and yet you struggle to mask your emotions. It becomes particularly difficult when he asks you to pull up your lower bra line a bit so he can finish off the tattoo. Of course, you don’t lift the fabric completely or anything, but the bottom half of your breast is visible and that’s more than enough to make you hyper-aware. And it only gets worse when you feel his gentle touch on the side of your breast, a series of goosebumps erupt over the area, the length of your face down to your collarbone turning red with the embarrassing reaction. It’s absolutely mortifying and you try to cover your embarrassment with a strained laugh, saying the air conditioning was making you cold.

It sounds too ridiculous to be taken seriously, but haechan push it, his dark gaze is dancing with amusement and interest. "Oh i know you liked it, princess"

“i-...You finished?” You ask when he turns off the pistol buzz, placing the object on the tray, throwing the disposable items in the adjacent bin along with the gloves and mask. He stands with his hands up, stretching his muscles tired from being in the same position for so long. You try not to visibly drool at the sight of the muscles in his arms stretched out like that.

“Yes. Do you want help getting up?” he looked back at you, his smirk growing bigger just like what's between his legs.

Yes, you did. In fact, you wanted him to do more than just help you up. But of course you didn’t say that.

“No, that’s fine. I can do it, thanks.”

Despite this, you have trouble getting up. And the fact that he’s watching your every move like an eagle doesn’t help matters. Your tattoo area hurts like a bitch and your body looks like it took a beating, but now you couldn’t take back what you said, it was a matter of pride. Then with delicacy and patience you drag yourself across the chair, avoiding putting weight on the most painful areas. It takes longer than you’d like, but eventually you’re on your feet.

Mark has one eyebrow arched and a half smile on his lips, but mercifully doesn’t comment on what just happened.

“Here, want to take a look?” the younger one asks, nodding towards the full-length mirror on the wall.

“Yes yes!” You responded excitedly, looking forward to seeing the job done.

“Wow, it’s so…so beautiful!” You admire the artistry on your skin, now more vivid and expressive than before. Lips clamped between teeth, nearly jumping with glee at the result. The detailing is elegant and beautiful. It’s even better than the sketch they have drawn.

Your skin throbbed and burned, but you couldn’t be more pleased. The reflection in the mirror is just perfect. “Johnny is an amazing artist I swear, he’s amazing.” 

Haechan seems to think about what you say, but the way his brows are slightly furrowed tells you he’s still confused. Hearts fluttering in your eyes as you look away from the mirror at the silent man beside you. But mark on the other side is quiet, deathly quiet.

You’re so nervous that you’ve offended them that you feel your body almost shaking where you’re standing. But then he slowly approaches, standing behind you in the mirror, staring intently at the overview of his work now permanently imprinted on your skin with a thoughtful hum.

“It looks really good on you, princess.” He says from behind you, close enough that you can smell the faint scent of cigarettes and mint gum, and something woody like sandalwood. A scent so intoxicatingly masculine it almost makes your head spin. He's literally behind you pressing on your ass and you’re still only in a bra and thigh-length pleated skirt.

Sweet hell.

You open your lips to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. The two of you just stand there, staring at each other in the mirror, neither of you knowing how to act.

God, he feels it too, right? That tension around the two of you?

It is haechan who breaks the silence, apparently more in tune with his feelings than you are.

“Okay, let me clean this up.“

You’re feeling shaky from your recent interaction, but you nod quickly, watching as he cleans your skin. The cold water soothing the tattoo burn.

You don’t know what you’re supposed to do, now that mark is standing close to you too saying nothing, just staring at you in that disturbing way.

For a solid minute, maybe two, he still doesn’t say anything. The look he pinned you with made breathing very difficult but then he finally parts his lips to say something, and you allow yourself to exhale expectantly.

"It wasn’t Johnny who made the art.”

Mark’s deep tone rang like molten gold, clearly knowing he was too close for things to be considered platonic at this point – though it didn’t seem like he minded too much. No, whatever is going on between the three of you is coming to a head right now. You can feel it in your bones.

“E-excuse me?” You blink rapidly, feeling your senses go dangerously numb at his approach, he lied to you.

“I said…” He says more slowly, tilting his head letting the attraction that now seemed mutual run through your veins. “That it wasn’t Johnny who designed your tattoo art, princess.”

He keeps looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters in the world. Disturbingly intense. You try and can’t remember the last time someone looked at you with such obvious desire. The sexual tension rapidly rising.

His long fingers glide along your jaw, tracing the shape, caressing your cheekbones. You don’t entertain the illusion that he can’t hear the rapidity of your breathing, perhaps even the rapid pulse under your flushed skin.

You looked to your right and realize that haechan already cleaned everything and he's staring down at you smirking before he whispered in your ear "Every time you visit the studio I wonder what it would be like if we are more close. What it would be like to have friends with benefits...with a pretty little thing like you"

You swallow the choking lump in your throat, lips parted on a shuddering sigh. It’s palpable that something big is coming and you don’t know if you can handle the rest of what he has to say. Still, you want to hear him say it. You wants him to tell you the things that make your stomach flutter and your toes curl. You want it so bad.

“I want to ruin your pussy, fuck you until your throat hurts from screaming. I want to make you cum with my cock, my mouth and my fingers. I want to lick every damn inch of you.”

…

For a few seconds the world stops turning. Nothing but what he said occupies your mind. You were going to die. Right there, in their tattoo studio.

"I….” You try, although the options are so many that you don’t know exactly what to ask for, your tongue feeling heavy inside your dry mouth, “…please.”

 “Please what, sweet girl?” Mark's head dips to your exposed neck, wet lips pressing against the skin there. His breath is hot and your eyelashes flutter at the contact, then his tongue slides out to drag slowly against your skin.

you sighed and can't reject this offer ofc, as if your words had been forcibly punched out of your body. Desperate. “Just touch me, please.” you breathed, halfway between crying and begging.

“…Where?” He pulls away to look you in the eyes. His pupil is swollen, almost completely black with lust. A smile plays on his lips.

“Everywhere. Everywhere, I just need to—” You can’t pronounce the rest. Instead, your breath is interrupted by a sudden pressure against your lips, and it takes you several moments to realize exactly what’s happening. Mark is kissing you.

Haechan take the chance and grabbed your waist his fingers tracing up to your back unclasping your bra like a pro. “Been dying to see these tits,” he said, giving the one on his side a squeeze the one you tatted just under it but You hadn’t bothered the pain when all you feel is pleasure.

Mark sucked and kissed all over your lips, while hyuck focused on your nipple. His tongue flicked the peak before taking it in his hot, wet mouth.

Right behind the three of you there was a big couch facing the mirror where you saw the final result of the tattoo.

The older one doesn’t wait for to long before taking a few steps back, until he lands comfortably in the couch that you only now realized was there. “Come here, princess.” He ordered.

But haechan grabbed you hard from your wrist and pushed you against mark making you sit on his lap, god he look so turned on, just an hour ago he was smiling brightly and welcoming you.

With a movement of muscles he is pulling the black shirt over his head - he's shirtless, tattooed chest and neck, his bun was slowly coming undone after all the moving. "hold her legs up" He growled while his friend spread your legs lifting them up in the air.

Haechan kneeled down face only few inches away from your panties, the way your pussy was pulsing now watching his tattooed fingers rubbing on your wet underwear, he damn near moaned. “She’s fucking soaked.” The way he spoke about you made your pussy ache even more.

He pushed them to the side and you tried to close your legs but mark grip was stronger, his fingers digging into your soft skin. “Don’t you dare try to hide this pretty pussy from me” hyuck said giving your cunt a good slap making you gasp.

Getting closer then slip between your legs. He kissed your throbbing clit before licking up your arousal, your head feel back on mark's chest with a moan while hyuck devouring you mumbling and degrading your pussy, his tongue flicking your clit faster and harder. Before you could draw another breath, you were tipping over the edge.

Looking at mark with those needy eyes and squirming all over his lap making him throb as well, "shh- I know baby, I know". Haechan licked at you until you finished, then looked up you grinning “So sweet, fuck.”

Mark start hooking his fingers into his pants and yanking them down along with his boxers, his big veiny cock was in a light needy shade of red. He tugs on your skirt as you risen slightly from his lap carefully avoiding your tattoo, For a few seconds you just look at him, asking - begging - for him to guide you in what to do next, and he doesn’t let you down.

One large hand holding both of your wrist behind your back and the other one grabbing his cock guiding his tip on your folds, “Come on princess, let me have you…” He practically pleads against your skin huskily, his larger body slightly trembling in need beneath yours.

You lick your lips and nod shyly looking back at hyuck who is fully naked now standing in front of you not only watching your pretty face but rubbing circles on your clit and choking you softly squeezing on your throat.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispered into your ear as he reach down and slowly rub your folds back and forth with the tip of his cock harder, spreading your slick across the entire length of him. “You have no idea what you are doing to me, princess…”

Your pussy burns as you stretch around his cock. You whimper softly when you felt him inside you, he encourages you the whole time, murmured compliments between his tense jaw.

You close your eyes and sink an inch deeper.

The burning stretch and you biting your bottom lip. When you squeeze a little, mark lets out a groan of pleasure. “That’s it,” he encouraged. “Just like this. Good girl. You’re going so well, princess,” he says through a pent-up groan as you lower until the plump tip of him is inside you, the praise coursing through your veins like liquid fire. “Come on, I know you can take my cock.”

“Does it feel good, baby?” Haechan asks hoarsely, pinching your nipple, as he smiled seeing you coming undone.

“S-so good! It’s so good!” You almost cry, He runs his tongue across your bottom lip and you let him in to explore your mouth, your tongues gliding over each other.

A loud moan is shared between you and mark as you sinking fully into his cock. You swear you can feel him in you chest as he opens you, pulsing and writhing wildly where you spasm along the length.

Bouncing on his cock while choking on another is how you ended up, both of them taking turns on fucking you.

“Gonna be a good girl and take us both, right?” hyuck asked. Your lip went between your teeth at the thought of having both of them inside you. You’d never done something like that, but fuck it sounded good. The second you nodded, haechan was lifting your hips and sinking you on to him. You let out a his as your soft walls opened for him. “Fuck she's so tight,” He groaned.

“mmh that ass is even tighter,” mark said from somewhere behind you giving it a spank. You instinctively rolled your hips, letting your body adjust to hyuck. He rocked his hips up slightly, admiring the moans it pulled from your lips. Mark tried to be as patient as he could so you could adjust to his friend, but his patience feared very thing watching his cock disappear inside you. He did not like feeling left out.

You felt mark press up behind you, He pushed you down so your chest was flush against hyuck’s, allowing himself to spread your ass cheeks rubbing your juices all over it. He used his thumb to spread it over your hole before lined himself up to you. His cock head pressed against you, slowly pushing through the ring of your ass.

“Aahh fuck mark!” you whined as he slowly filled you up. You gripped haechan’s shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin 

“You can take it, be brave, angel” mark insisted, continuing to press inside. He bottomed out with a deep satisfied sigh. “See? Taking two cocks like no problem, that's it baby.” 

They began to move inside you. It was such a strange, full sensation, but fuck you couldn’t deny it felt so good. They moved slowly at first, making sure you were enjoying it. With each moan that left your lips the moved more freely. 

Both men continued to thrust into you more faster. Hyuck’s moans were lighter, on the precipice of a whine, while mark’s were deeper and raspier. It was music to your ears. “Fuck gonna cum? Let it out princess,” mark moaned.

You nearly screamed as the pleasure in your lower stomach completely snapped. Your whole body shuddered as your orgasm flamed through you, your body shaking and twitching, tears falling down your cheeks as you collapsed on top of haechan.

Copyright 2024 © jamjaemin

[asliceoftoast]

while i'm back home and no longer in seattle, the writing streak continues!

__

April and Arizona rounded the corner of the hospital wing. Brushing a wavy bang out of her face and tucking the strand of hair behind her ear, April looked at her friend. She leaned in slightly, eyes scanning the room for familiar faces before telling Arizona what she had witnessed an hour earlier in a soft whisper against the blonde’s ear.

“What!” Arizona whisper-screamed. “I can’t believe that.” They stopped at the counter of the pit’s desk, and April leaned over to put back her tablet. 

“I know! They look like such a picture-perfect couple, but imagine my surprise when I walk into an on-call room and he’s getting another nurse out of her scrubs while his wife is in the middle of surgery.”

“Ugh, I can’t imagine.” The pediatric surgeon shuddered, feet tapping the floor as she moved. “Gosh, do you think she knows?”

“Uh-” April sighed as a depressed sound fell out of her mouth. “Well, I think she’ll find out soon because apparently I’m not the only person who walked in on them today.” Blue eyes widened in shock as Arizona absorbed the information. “You would think they would lock the door after the first time.” 

April’s brows screwed together, disgust rising in her chest. It was at times like this that she was immensely grateful for her husband and remembered just how lucky she was to have him.

“Honestly, she’s too good for him,” Arizona added. “I hope she knows that. She’s a badass surgeon and she’s such a sweetheart. I can’t believe that he did that.”

“I can’t imagine what’s going to happen to their marriage now. They have two young kids to think of too. God, why would he do that?!”

“Men,” Arizona muttered. The two shared a moment of silence, sitting on the drama that was swirling around the hospital that day. “Quick question.” April hummed, tapping on her phone to respond to her husband’s latest text as Arizona tilted her shoulders to face her. “What would you do if Jackson ever cheated?”

April snorted, knowing full well that he never would. For her, cheating was a non-negotiable. She had no second chances to give when it came to that. “If he ever does that, I’m going to divorce him.”

Arizona peered over the redhead’s shoulders, watching the plastic surgeon slowly sway as he walked. His blue eyes were missing their normal Avery sparkle as the color drained from his face.

“D-d-divorce,” he mumbled under his breath.

April spun around, a bright smile illuminating her face as she saw him. “Hi, baby.”

“What did you just say?”

“Hi, baby?” Her voice skewed upwards, repeating her greeting.

“No, before that. Is it because I didn’t use the key hook last night?” April’s head tilted, confusion clouding her warm reception. “Or is it because I don’t like leftovers?”

“Jackson, what are you talking about? You know that doesn’t bother me anymore.”

Jackson talked to himself, voice low and confused. He continued to ramble while April and Arizona stared on. 

“Babe, are you okay? You’ve been acting a little weird since you came.”

Arizona tapped April’s arm, drawing the trauma surgeon’s attention. “Hi,” she smiled, quickly dropping the corner of her lips as she spoke again. “Can I jump in for a sec?” April nodded along, and Arizona whispered into her ear. “I think all he got from our conversation was ‘I’m going to divorce him.’”

April’s eyes widened, snapping back to her husband who stood dejected a few feet away. “Divorce?” She grabbed onto his wrist, and his eyes turned to her. “Why would I want to divorce you when it was so hard to marry you?”

He swallowed, looking back and forth between his wife and her best friend. “I heard you say it though.”

April sighed, stepping in to wrap her arms around him. “Arizona asked what I would do if you ever cheated on me.” 

It was like the thought of even being associated with the action was repulsive, the flit of anger passing through his body before he quickly assured April that he would never do that. He paused, one eyebrow arching as it dawned on him. 

“Is this about you walking in on someone today in the oncall room?”

“You know about that already?”

“Half the hospital knows by now. I believe the nurses said you turned bright red and told them to lock the door after scolding him for cheating.” Jackson snaked his arms around his wife’s waist, assured that he was not getting divorced any time soon.

She sent him a dejected smile, “I don’t think they listened to me though.”

[shiversdownyerspine]

Ole Munch Time

LET'S TALK ABOUT MUDMAN AGAIN. Let's talk about…the biscuit scene. There's gonna be a part 1 and a part 2 cuz OH BOY I GOT STUFF TO SAY.

Part 1

So, Ole Munch shows up at the Lyon's home and sits patiently for Dot while Wayne keeps him company, who I imagine is trying to chat our mudman up and just be his regular friendly self? I doubt Munch really knows what to do with that, he's out of his comfort zone here. I think the last time he was given a warm welcome was likely centuries ago when he met the people of the plains.

Then Dot arrives and the fun begins.

As they talk he does this strange balancing act between polite guest and grim reaper. He tries the tough guy act and the music reflects it in the scene. He's all intimidating; scowling, a bit snarly, Mister Grim & Gruff being all, 'no, our fight isn't finished', 'this is the way it has to be', 'you took a man's flesh now you must give your own in return'. Old Testament, yadda yadda yadda. But I don't think this is what he REALLY wants, it's likely that with the way his life has gone that this is just what he thinks is fair. What's available to him.

A little note about him being gone for a year and dressed all in black; what was the mourning period in medieval times for a child facing the loss of a parent? A year. And the appropriate color garb when in mourning? Black. He's trying to honor Irma's passing.

Let's talk about the handshake. Wayne offers his hand, and Munch, still staring at Dot, tilts his head away from it. I don't think he's flinching or cringing in fear, but I could be wrong. Maybe he's never been offered a handshake before, wasn't expecting the gesture, or…he knows what the gesture is and doesn't want to accept it.

It kind of feels like a pouty kid going, 'No, I'm not gonna shake your hand. I can't. I'm not allowed. I have no choice but to be the Harbinger of Death and you're ruining it. :c'

Dot approaches then, and Munch says, "We will finish our engagement now."

Dot's confused, says she thought they were done. What is he doing here, he had helped her and said she was free now. She hadn't understood his meaning then, that it wasn't about her and him. I think Munch telling her, 'The tiger is free', was meant as in free from Roy. Period. Her debt to Roy as his runaway bride was going to be absolved.

So, the debt. He's had much taken from him. Not just his flesh; remember, the money he was paid to go after Dot in the first place was stolen back. We saw Roy find the duffel bag in Gator's closet after he'd been abducted. Not just that, but Munch's new mother figure was also killed. He's gained nothing for his pain and suffering. The only debt that could possibly be paid fairly, according to his Code, is his ear.

And then he's being given a soda and he looks away from Dot to peer at it like..'??? What is this bright thing…oh, a beverage.'

It's funny how he rejected the handshake but accepted the drink, yet we saw previously how distracted he gets by the marvels of the modern world, so he accepts it if just to inspect the soda. And THEN he accepts the kind gesture behind it, but not before side-eyeing Wayne suspiciously. Like he's maybe mulling over whether or not he should thank him, or he's wary of Wayne's intentions. But Munch is clearly touched by the gesture, even if he doesn't WANT to be. He's being shown real hospitality and he finally accepts it, because deep down he WANTS it, so we get an almost begrudging, "A man is grateful".

Like he's going, '…Okay fine. I'll admit...this was nice of you.'

Then Wayne starts asking about him, and notice how Munch is STILL looking at Wayne, not at Dot. And his body language changes a bit, like he's surprised, maybe flattered, that someone is showing interest in him as a person. And he responds to that. Munch doesn't ignore Wayne, he opens up to him.

And the whole scene is hilarious because we can see how receptive Munch is to respect and kindness and family that it's like…buddy, your Code is a mask and it's about to crumble right off your face.

Dot then steers the conversation back to the reason he's here, the debt. She challenges it, but in a respectful way. She doesn't understand why everyone insists on paying debt no matter what. She understands, "keeping a promise, but people always say 'debt must be paid'. Except what if you can't? If you're too poor, or you lose your job, maybe there's a death in the family (all things I think Munch can intimately understand). Isn't the better thing, more humane thing, to say the debt should be forgiven? Isn't that who we should be?"

Remember his monologue in the bath? How the ones who have plenty insist on greed, insist on taking from the ones who have nothing? As if life itself owes them a debt, their greed must be fed regardless of the cost. And the cost is death. This scene feels like a continuation of his talk of kings, and I think he's reminded of what a kindred spirit Dot is.

I think to Munch, the debt is about keeping a promise to himself. Because all he has IS himself. His Code. If no one else is advocating for him, HE must advocate for himself. But now he has to reconsider what debt is to him, if it should be paid, if it should be forgiven. And he struggles with it because this will change him and he doesn't know if he should let it. Will this get him hurt? Will it be worth it? It's such a vulnerable place to be in.

And then Wayne mentions it's probably time to make biscuits. And it takes Munch a second but his attention snaps to Wayne. A hint of interest, maybe?

And Dot goes, "You know what? You're right." She smiles. Enough of this, she's said all she needed to say about debt and payment. Time to move on.

Dot asks her family to set the table, and looks back at Munch, and she's smiling in this certain way at him. Like she thinks she knows what to do next. Because I think she's starting to realize how alike they are. Maybe she used to think the way Munch did before she escaped Roy.

An eye for an eye. Think back to Dot's dream; Dot insists Linda owes her, that she needs to do something about the hurt and suffering she went through. Pay the debt. But Dot forgives her. She can move forward, no longer trapped. I think Dot recognizes Munch is stuck in survival mode and hurting, because she was stuck in it for so long.

Her family walks away and her smile fades. Munch looks confused, unsure of what to do next. So Dot gives him a choice, "Whatever it is you think you came here for, we're halfway to supper. And it's a school night. So either you wash your hands and you help, or we do this another time."

And Munch looks like he's pouting but he's considering his options. Dot gets up and leaves him to mull it over.

I wonder if Dot remembers that dream, of making a doll and having dinner with those other Linda's (other versions of herself). She fought against it at first, but deep down she wanted to heal from her past. She wanted forgiveness, love, and joy. Family. So she offers Munch a chance to do the same, because deep down she knows he wants that too. He wants to escape but doesn't know the steps to take. That's why he's there.

And Munch's faaaaaaaaace. He's in turmoil, he's confused, he's thinking of debt and forgiveness and Irma. His want of family, his want of being cared for and having people to care about in return. He peers up at the family and the music is tense with, 'oh no is he going to attack??'

But honestly? I think the music is a hint to how he's feeling. Munch is terrified of this family, of joining them. BUT HE JOINS THEM ANYWAY.

And just like Dot in the dream with the Linda's, he fights it at first. Shaking his head like, what is he doing, this is all wrong, a man has a Code. And he tries to insist on his Code. It's all he has, it's all he is. It's everything. It's safety. Change isn't safe, it's a risk and he just wants to be safe. Yet there he is in the kitchen trying his best to prepare something for everyone to eat.

They take his coat, accepting him into their fold, and you can see how uncomfortable he is. Exposed. His hands hover by his hips, like he wants to reach for a gun or a knife. He's struggling but he's trying. He saw himself in Dot and wants to understand just as much as he wants to be understood.

He clutches the measuring cup with both hands, maybe to give himself some sort of security. Grounding himself as he watches what Dot does with clear interest. Then Dot starts talking with him about the job he took from Roy. She discusses the risk that naturally comes about with accepting such work. She acknowledges that he got hurt. And that he can't be mad at the risk because he accepted the possibility of risk when he took the job.

You don't get mad at the boulder for being a rock. You don't get mad at the risk for existing in whatever form that it takes. And he understands that.

She makes him realize that he's not here because of the risk or the lost ear. But that forms a paradox because he thinks that's why he is here. So then…why is he here? He shakes his head, it doesn't make sense. That HAS to be why he's here. His Code.

Dot talks about family, of why she was a risk to him. She asks him to empathize by thinking of his mother across the sea, loving him. What if someone went after her? Tried to take her away from him? Wouldn't he expect her to fight like hell to get back to him? Wouldn't he understand his mother making that choice? Wouldn't he understand why Dot made that choice?

Munch responds, "You say that as if life is a circle, but it's a line. Mother is the start, this is the other side."

It doesn't make sense for him, because he's lived so long. Life just stretches out and out and out. A line, not a circle. It doesn't curve back and connect with itself, with all those memories of living sitting side-by-side. I can't help but think when someone lives so long, memories begin to fade. And the memories of his mother are so far away. Dot is discussing something that happened at the very beginning of the line, and this job happened at the other end of the line. It's been so long, he doesn't remember his mother and what she would have done, doesn't understand why Dot would mention such a scenario. He can't imagine it because to him it might feel like she never existed.

Dot doesn't know what he means, but she rephrases. She puts it in a way he can understand, "What I'm saying is, it's a choice. You made a choice."

They both made choices in life. He made a choice to take the job. He made a choice, and by doing so, became a threat to Dot. Dot made a choice, and by doing so, became a risk to Munch. For every action there is a reaction. It's natural.

She's not going to yell at him for being the threat, just as he shouldn't yell at her for being the risk associated with that threat. That's just life and where their choices led them. Now they have more choices to make, and she's made hers. She's accepted and forgiven him for being a threat. It's his turn to choose, which means thinking about what he wants.

The look on his face when she says that reminds me very much of the look he sported when Irma asked him what he wanted. Just, pure vulnerability and longing.

Dot guides him forward. She acknowledges his hurt and gives him options. Follow his Code, or accept change. Let his Code become something healthier that will serve him in the long run, instead of being trapped by it like she was.

[popodoki]

A first for me this TFNation was crossing over to the other side of the cosplay contest. I entered this time! I'm again truly grateful for the warm reception Rung got ❤️

[fen-the-magnificat]

literally EVERY question for &j. every single one

lets get into it!

the community, how much joy there is in the fanworks, and the music

aspec frankie - i still wouldn't personally write it, but i really really like how reggie does it, so i have definitely warmed up to it

romeo tbh. i didn't care that much about him when i first saw the show.

hrrrgh gonna give this one a miss sorry i really dislike any non-canon ships

angst for may. please keep hurting my fave i adore it

happiness. also colour

hurt may, and angst, as well as shenanigans

the pure amount of background details there are in the show - also the design of the show, like the set and the projections and i could talk about it all day its so clever

jumeo, i think. they're just kinda there i like that. also langelique

@thetisming. i will always appreciate him reaching out, i would be very lonely in the fandom otherwise :)

show me the meaning (there's something missing). that shit took me forever, I'm so glad it got the reception that it has, it meant a lot.

reg you are the amperstan, thanking you for tying the lot of us together, and for being so welcoming

we don't really have them (we should fix that)

maycois

may, but also frankie

I HAVE SO MANY but right now it's the end of confident where may runs on all happy, sees juliet and frankie kiss, and then like stumbles backward and runs of stage. hurts my feelings, 10/10

the entire show

maycois, or may and frankies character tags

there are so many. look at my ao3 bookmarks.

the darkest minds book series back when i was 11, there were less than 30 works and i read on ff.net

nevermoor bookseries. nevermoor discord i miss you everyday but i have been gone for so long and am scared to return

shadowycupcake or tillywunderwing. i wont bother them with tags but you guys were the first to make me feel welcomed in a fandom, i am forever grateful

i think caroline in the city? the last one was community but i have now watched that so

I've been able to connect with so many people that share my interests, and not be judged for it. i get to make things and people like it. i love being in fandoms rbiberkjsb crying brb

learn to take a step back. you will only burn yourself out if you don't. remember that fanworks (fanfic especially) are for yourself, first and foremost. learn to treat creating like a gift to yourself and not an obligation.

[girlonthelasttrain]

my one Legend of Korra fic from 2017 just got to an interesting kudos milestone.

If we're taking that number seriously it's my most popular fic. Actually it's always been my most popular fic and it's always been a bit strange to think about! I wouldn't at all write it in the same way now but I'm still proud of it as the first story I ever had the courage to post anywhere on the internet, even if I was already in my late twenties by then.

Shortly after I posted that fic I got into Trek femslash which is a much much smaller fandom, plus I feel like I turned away a bit from the most popular tropes of f/f fic, which makes for an interesting dichotomy. On one hand if we go by pure numbers alone, I've always been doing "worse" than my first fic, but on the other I'm fairly proud of how far I've come as writer since then, and very grateful at the level of engagement I got on pretty much all of my other fic. Even considering the notorious kudos/views ratio, a lot of the works I'm proudest of are below the dreaded 0.1 threshold. (This is not even getting into how views are counted on AO3 which tl;dr I have the suspicion is not very accurate, especially on multi-chapter works.)

I still take a look at the statistics in my AO3 page (mostly because I like to compare wordcounts) but the more years pass the more meaningless the numbers become to me. Every time I see a post on here that cites a numbers-based criteria on which people choose to read or choose to be proud of their own work, I admit I feel a bit dejected. I don't think the numbers measure anything but how much a single story appealed to most readers in one given fandom. And even then so much engagement happens through word of mouth, the "appeal" is really hard to pin down from the raw numbers AO3 collects. My Legend of Korra fic got read a lot after the show landed on Netflix, for example, three years after I posted it.

I don't know. Those numbers for a first fic with which I was stretching my writing muscles in public for the first time keep me grounded. I'm very grateful, obviously, that people read it and still read it. It also helps me remember that things like numbers have meaning only insofar as I allow them to. Again, I would not write the same fic at all today. Maybe I can only say this because my first attempt at fic in English was warmly received, and perhaps in another universe very close to this one I would have found a different hobby by now. But then again I recall better as "warm reception" the fact that my beta reader offered to look it over sight unseen and all the comments I got on it, rather than the raw numbers alone.

[bluebirbhumming]

༺warmth in winter༻

oh god it's so cold here right now. i so desperately want this man to cuddle me i want him so bad i might cry 😭😭😭 also the part about his cologne is from the information about happy elements' character perfume that was on sale a while ago. unfortunately, i wasn't able to buy his cologne because it sold out 😔 so this info is just what i found by asking japanese producers who managed to buy it 😭😭

anyways i hope you enjoy! and sorry for no updates on the rules and stuff because i'm just really busy at the moment

-mi

It was already dark when you started to head home. As it was wintertime, night came rather quickly every evening. Your mood was slightly spoiled by the cold weather, but as you remembered your special someone, your heart swelled with a spark of warmth.

Your breath hitched as you stumbled your way into the reception area, hands trembling from the cold as you swiped your residential card at the elevator entry. The temperature was higher in the building than it was outside, yet you still longed to arrive home as soon as possible.

Tsumugi must have been home already, since Natsume said he left the office hours ago. As the elevator started to move upwards, you nearly burst with anticipation. The doors opened shortly after, and you rushed to the door of your shared apartment. Your still shaky hands held your card against the door lock. It swung open to reveal your beloved boyfriend, who was obviously worried because of your lateness. He quickly pulled you inside the house, frowning as he felt your freezing hand. You tried to offer him a reassuring smile, hoping it would lessen his worry just a little bit, but instead let out a pretty loud sneeze.

“What happened? Your clothes are all damp!” he spoke anxiously. “Sorry,” you muttered, “I was running home, but the umbrella got blown away.” Tsumugi carefully took the damp coat off your shoulders and placed your shoes on the racket. He then held your hands gently, leading you to the bedroom. “You should change quickly,” he said, “I already left your clothes in the bathroom for you. Please do it fast before you catch a cold”.

You pecked him on the cheek as a thank you and closed the bathroom door. Your heart flutters as you realize he already turned on the air conditioning like the sweetheart he was, ever so careful of your needs even before you knew you needed it. You took your boyfriend’s advice, shedding your clothes to clean up and change into your favorite set of winter pajamas. “Oh, you…” you giggled to yourself. No matter how many times you receive his kindness, you always feel so grateful for his efforts to keep you happy.

When you left the bathroom, Tsumugi was already sitting on your bed under the warm covers. “Quick,” he said as he spread his arms, “come here!”. You happily obliged, crashing into his embrace. The man wrapped his strong arms around you, enclosing you in the already warm blanket. You giggled and snuggled against him as you returned the hugs. You closed your eyes, melting into his chest, inhaling his comforting scent. You suddenly felt a tiny bit proud, being the only one to know the last notes of his cologne: light, sweet and velvety, the scent of home.

“Your cologne is so nice,” you murmured, voice muffled. He laughed at your comment. Seriously, how many times have you told him that? Still, he found himself getting slightly giddy. You were always kind and gentle to him, praising him for the slightest things. He never received much praise growing up, and it was terribly hard to wrap his head around how and why you chose to love him of all people. But as of now… it’s perfectly clear to him how much you cherish him.

Tsumugi bowed his head to plant kisses all over your hair, arms cuddling you close. You giggled and looked up at him. For a moment you were speechless. He was stunning even away from the blinding lights on stage. You felt as if you were drowning in the gentleness of his eyes, hands mindlessly threading through his luscious curls. Who could blame you for being lovesick all of the sudden? When your lover was such a precious angel, so kind and beautiful in every way possible?

“I love you, I love you so much,” you whispered into his ear.

“I love you too, my precious,” he replied.

You rested your head on his chest once more. It was snowing outside, but you were warm and happy.

“Shall we eat dinner?”

“Of course, my sweet.”

[invisibleraven]

Happy Friday!! Christmas Dialogue prompt D for Rulie please?

Julie downright hated winter. The slushy roads, the unpredictable weather, the freezing cold temperatures. Maybe it was because she was a California girl at heart and had foolishly chosen to go to school in New York, but she wasn't prepared for the chill. Maybe because every movie painted snow like some magical thing that created a wonderland, not the irritant it was.

Either way, Julie wasn't a fan.

To that point, she also had no appropriate clothing to wear out and about during the season, which is why Reggie offered to take her shopping. "I went through the same thing last year. I mean, it does get colder in Georgia than in LA, but I totally wasn't prepared for the temperature change."

Julie was waiting for Reggie outside her building and really regretting it. Flakes were falling from the sky, and if she could have waited inside, she would have. But the lobby was undergoing maintenance, which unfortunately, also affected the buzzer system. Reggie had offered to text her, but the reception inside only worked half the time, and honestly, Julie was counting the days until her lease was up in the spring.

She was downright shivering when Reggie's ancient truck chugged along, screeching in front of her. "Sorry I'm late!" Reggie called from the cab, then hopping down and coming around to the passenger side. "Had to dig out the ice scrapper and the winter windshield wash. You ready?"

He offered her a hand into the truck, which she gratefully took, and slid inside, grateful that the heat was blasting. Reggie hopped around, and sat inside, turning to Julie. "Your hands are freezing!"

Julie flushed, knowing that the chill affected her digits first, to the point that she could barely feel them. "It's not that bad..." Then Reggie took her hands in his, cupping them, and she was struck by the size difference. Then he pulled them to his mouth, blowing into his cupped palms. "Wait, what are you doing?"

"Warming your hands up silly, don't want you to get frostbite and loose your piano chair," Reggie commented, smiling at her with a crooked grin.

Julie felt her cheeks heat, and looked at the sweet expression on Reggie's face, noticing how his eyelashes fanned his cheeks, the last remnants of snowflakes melting against his dark locks, the way his freckles stood out against the paleness of his skin. The way her fingers were tingling now, but whether that was from the cold or from where Reggie was holding them, she couldn't be sure.

Reluctantly, Reggie pulled back, rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks a tinge pink. "Yeah, let's go get you some gloves."

They drove to the nearest store, and Reggie still came around to pull Julie down from the cab. Only, Julie didn't let go as they walked, and when Reggie shot her a questioning glance, she bit back a smile. "My hand is still cold."

"Well I'll keep it warm for you then," Reggie replied, shoving their joined hands into the depth of his pocket, grinning widely as they walked.

In the end, Julie got herself a vast array of winter gear, including several pairs of gloves. But she found her hands were warmest when held by Reggie, so she usually only ended up wearing one.

He didn't seem to mind, always smiling when she offered her hand to hold, and looking a tiny bit sad when they had to let go.

So maybe a boyfriend wasn't on Julie's shopping list, but she certainly wasn't complaining about picking one up, especially one who made her warm in every sense of the word.

[romaine2424]

Fic Wrap up for 2022

OMG where did the year go? I achieved none of my goals I wrote down last year at this time. However, it saves me of making a new post, because they are the same for this year. Finish my WIPs!!! LOL

This year I wrote about ~210K. 193K posted (4 fics). The other amount is for those WIPs. LOL

Here's the list and indulgent commenting of the fics I posted in 2022:

Every Cottage Has a Story (5.5K) This was written for Salt & Pepper Fest 2022. It's Harry/Ginny/Draco. It's written from an adult James' POV when he discovers Draco isn't just a border at his parent's cottage. It's rated T and is so much fun!

Eight Days a Week (122K) This fic I wrote as a chapter fic. It had been years since I did this type of release. It's Drarry but M/F as Draco is trans-fem in this story. It covers the two years of her transition. I didn't want to make it that she took a potion and that was it. I thought it was important for their relationship to go through the physical and psychological process in more detail. Friends to Lovers. Harry is pansexual or rather he discovers he is :). The story took me five months to write and I'm not sure I've ever put so much of my heart and soul into one of my fics since Double Edged Sword. It is a Drarry love story and it is a positive transitioning story. And it's about those growing up years where big decisions have to be made. I had some very lovely and loyal commenters, which got me through to the end. I'm so grateful to them. However, I'll be very honest, I was disappointed in the overall reception of this fic. I know the saying is "write for yourself", but there was definitely a sting to this one. Aulophobia and @m0srael were amazing in their help with this fic. Rated E

25 Holiday Scenes for Eight Days a Week (16.3K) I didn't expect a big response for this one, but I still had this story and characters in my head for months after completing it. So, I wrote for me this year for @slythindor100 25 Days of Draco and Harry. LOL It was a lot of fun! And, I thank the faithful commenters. Rated G

The Roommate (42.7K) I wrote this as a gift fic for @sorrybutblog for the @hd-erised 2022 fest. OMG I had troubles with this one. I wanted to write a romcom but I think I'm unable to do such a thing, so a bit of serious plot forced it's way in. Here's the summary: After one year in Azkaban and two years of home arrest, Draco is going off to college. Myrrdin College is Oxford’s magical college, where one Harry Potter is currently attending. Both are going for their teaching certificates with Draco specialising in Potions and Harry in Defence Against the Dark Arts. The Headmistress has insisted all incoming professors must be degreed. However, the Board of Governors insist that Draco also must live in a Muggle house with limited allowance and take Muggle elective courses before he can become Hogwarts' new Potions Professor. Harry is coerced by others into helping Draco Malfoy survive in the Muggle world. My favorite comment on this was equating the fic to a warm blanket! LOL. It is cottage-core. Harry's goal is to make Draco Malfoy fall in love with the Muggle world...he might have achieved it a little too well. :) It's rated M. I so tried for the E but it just didn't fit the story.

The rest I've written was for my WIPs.

Favorite Lines:

1. “Shit! I’ve gone from a Death Eater to an old witch smoking and drinking on a porch.” (Libby to Harry in 25 Holiday Scenes).

2. He’s heard the saying that the wand chooses the wizard one too many times. Whilst it might be true, Draco has found that a wizard or witch will use any damn wand available if needed. (The Roommate)

3. “Don’t talk to me like that, James Sirius!” Ginny replied sternly. “I’m sorry that you haven’t noticed what’s slap-bang in front of your face. You’re like a Muggle not seeing magic.” (Every Cottage Has a Story)

Onto the New Year! Hopefully those WIPs will be finished. I won't be looking at any prompts for any fests this year. *yeah right*

[chthonicpink]

I don't really care much about numbers

...And that's why I'm really glad with the way I was received here on this site!

In all honesty I came here from the "Twitter Shutting Down" scare we had like a week and half ago, but also because I promised myself to finally open a Tumblr since I've heard nice things about it before; I delayed opening an account because I simply forgot about that, I wanted to expand but I was comfy enough on Twitter and on Facebook (semi privately) to just get out of there. If it weren't for the Twitter scare I wouldn't be here and maybe I wouldn't have had the same reception either, I consider myself lucky but I'm also really grateful for the warm welcome this place has offered me.

I'm not a person of producing a lot tbh it's a bit hard, I'm slow, but it's nice to feel chill about not everything doing great... And it's also nice to see that even my most simplest of things have got people laughing. Thank you again for having me over here! And thank you for making me reach 2.5k likes total and 100 followers in less than 2 weeks :') it's really sweet and unexpected, I'm a bit overwhelmed but happy nonetheless 💕

[hylfystt]

rating: gen word count: 1k characters: vana kudran (oc), stellan gios warnings: none

just a little glimpse at the first time vana and stellan meet :) they're gonna be friends i just know it.

The early afternoon sun shone bright into Vana's office, warming her back as she worked.

She reveled in it.

After several days of scheduled rain, as was custom this time of year on Coruscant, she was grateful for the sun's return. She never had cared much for rain. It always seemed harder to muster enough energy to face the day with the clouds overhead and the cold and damp setting in.

Yes, she much preferred the sun.

She hummed quietly to herself - a nameless tune that had been quick to her tongue - while scrolling through a datapad. She knew its contents well - after all she had written them. Not to mention she'd reviewed it two times already that hour alone, but the need for perfection drove her to look it over one last time anyways.

Stars help her if there were any errors now. She had a first impression to master.

Eventually she sighed to herself and set the pad aside, her thumbs drumming a flurried beat against the top of her desk. She was expecting the Jedi any moment now and it grew harder by the minute to keep the anticipation at bay.

She hoped he would be kind.

There was little Vana knew about Stellan Gios. From the information given to her by Lina, he was something of a prodigy. He had to be, she assumed, to be a member of the Council so young. Master Tek, her former contact, had been well established by the time he'd been elevated to his position.

He was also notoriously curt.

Not that Vana thought he truly meant anything by it, but there were many times that Vana got the sense that the wizened master would rather be doing anything but taking a few moments out of his day to meet with her. Would Master Gios be the same?

Vana took a breath.

Well - there was no point in trying to worry about something that had yet to pass.

She was confident that Master Gios would be different.

Probably.

...Hopefully.

"Vana?" R3-ZA's pleasantly melodic voice filtered in over the comm at her desk. Vana sat up. "Your appointment is here."

"Thank you Reza," Vana told the reception bot. "Please send him in."

She took a breath and straightened her cape as she stood.

Her door slid open and Jedi Master Stellan Gios walked through.

Vana felt a shock of surprise.

He was taller than she expected; handsome too - all dark hair, chiseled jaw and bright blue eyes. She'd never thought about Jedi being handsome before. She almost laughed at the unbidden thought. Yes, the man before her was a far cry from the grizzled Master Tek for certain.

With any luck, he would be more personable as well.

Schooling her surprise, Vana smiled brightly at the man.

"Master Gios, welcome!" She rounded the corner of her desk and offered a hand. "I'm Vana Kudran. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me. I hope I'm not keeping you from anything too important."

"Not at all, ma'am." Stellan smiled and shook her hand. "I was happy to meet with you. We're to be working together often, as I understand."

"With any luck it won't be too often." Vana smiled and settled back behind her desk, motioning for Stellan to sit as well. "While Chancellor Soh and the Jedi Council have agreed to cooperate on many matters, I wouldn't wish to overwhelm you with requests and meetings." Vana winked. "Not until you've had some time settle in to your new position anyways."

Vana hoped the open invitation of levity would land with the Jedi.

Stellan afforded her a chuckle. "I appreciate your consideration, Ms. Kudran. While I was prepared for my shift in responsibilities, this wasn't one I thought I would take over."

Relief flooded her chest. He has a personality - thank the Stars.

Vana beamed at the man, full and bright. "Well, it just wouldn't do for a Jedi Master to be caught floundering, now would it? In any case, I'm sure you would have risen to the occasion just fine. I know Master Tek wouldn't have turned this duty over to you lightly."

Vana wasn't actually sure Tek wouldn't have turned this role over to a tooka if he thought it could handle the job, but Vana felt that was better left unsaid. From the look Stellan gave her, she had an idea he'd had a similar thought. She wondered idly how long he waited after Gios' appointment to pass this duty on to him. Vana stifled a grin.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to flatter me, Ms. Kudran."

Vana laughed.

"Nonsense," she chastised with a wink. "If I wanted to flatter you I'd be much more subtle about it. No - I simply have faith the Jedi Council would not appoint you to their ranks if you were incompetent. And please, Master Gios, just Vana will do."

"Alright, Vana it is," Stellan acknowledged.

"Excellent!" Vana slid a datapad across the desk. "I understand you were thrust my way rather unexpectedly so I hope you don't mind that I've taken the liberty of compiling an archive of the current matters the Chancellor and the Council are currently collaborating on to help you get up to speed, along with my own notes. If you'd like, I can keep it updated regularly as matters arise and are resolved as well."

Stellan took a few moments to scan through the data and lifted an appreciative eyebrow.

"This is highly organized." Stellan looked at her and smiled what Vana suspected was his first real smile at her. Vana was suddenly thankful she wasn't inclined to girlish fancy. She could easily picture that face on a cover of a trashy robe-ripper novel that'd become all the rage recently. She fought a chuckle at the thought. "And very helpful. I think you and I are going to get along quite well, Vana."

Vana smiled back, delighted.

"I'm looking forward to it."

[occupyswift]

Rocket It Off by occupyswift

Rating: Mature

Chapter: 42/???

Summary:

Taylor Swift and Elon Musk appeared on a livestream for charity. But instead of presenting a united front, they began insulting each other. As the insults got more cringe-worthy, a shipping war broke out in the comments. To distract from the arguing, they decided to play Minecraft, but a random player came and tried to destroy their creations. Despite this setback, Taylor and Elon persevered, proving that even a billionaire and a popstar can put their differences aside and work together for a good cause.

Chapter 42

Taylor takes a deep breath and looks over at Elon, who's adjusting his futuristic suit. "You nervous?" she asks, her voice trembling slightly.

Elon smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Nervous? You think I get nervous? I sent a car to space, Taylor. A little livestream won't make me break a sweat."

Taylor chuckles, grateful for his confidence. "Well, I'm glad one of us is cool as a cucumber. I feel like I'm about to perform at Madison Square Garden in front of a billion people."

Elon reaches out and gently squeezes her hand. "You've got this, Taylor. You're a superstar. Just be yourself, and everyone will love you."

As the countdown to their livestream begins, Taylor takes a moment to reflect on the journey that brought her here. From arguing with Elon to playing Minecraft together, to secret dates and hidden mansions, their love story has been anything but ordinary. And now, as they prepare to go public, she can't help but feel a mix of excitement and fear.

Taylor takes a deep breath and starts the stream on X, the former Twitter, on her main account. As she clicks the "Go Live" button, she feels a rush of both excitement and anxiety. The chat starts flooding with viewers, their usernames scrolling by at a rapid pace. Taylor watches as people join and immediately notice Elon's presence beside her. The comments start pouring in, and it's not exactly the warm reception they were hoping for.

"What the heck? Is that Elon Musk? Why is he there with Taylor?"

"This is so weird. Taylor and Elon? What a random pairing."

"I can't believe she would associate herself with Elon Musk. Cancelled."

Taylor's heart sinks as she reads the mean-spirited comments. She glances at Elon, who seems unaffected by the negativity, his focus locked on the camera.

Taking a moment to compose herself, Taylor addresses the chat with a smile. "Hey, guys! So, I guess the cat's out of the bag. Elon and I are here to share something special with you all."

But the mean comments keep pouring in, and Taylor can't help but feel the weight of the criticism. She fights back tears as she reads hurtful messages questioning her judgment, her character, and her decision to be with Elon.

Elon, sensing her distress, places a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Ignore them, Taylor. They don't know what they're talking about."

She takes a deep breath, trying to push past the hurtful words and focus on the reason they're here. "Look, I understand that this may come as a surprise to some of you, but love is unexpected. It doesn't always fit into neat little boxes."

Taylor feels a surge of determination, fueled by her love for Elon and their shared experiences. "We met through a charity livestream, and our connection grew from there. It may be unconventional, but love doesn't always follow a predictable path."

Despite the ongoing onslaught of mean comments in the chat, Taylor takes a deep breath, determined to make her voice heard. She leans closer to the camera, her eyes full of sincerity.

"I understand that some of you may not understand why I'm with Elon. But if you give us a chance, you might just see why I'm drawn to him. He's intelligent, inspiring, and challenges me in ways I never expected."

The chat continues to be flooded with negativity, but Taylor presses on, hoping that her words will resonate with at least a few open-minded viewers.

Elon interjects, his voice calm yet assertive. "Let me share something with all of you. Kanye West has been threatening both Taylor and me for some time now. This constant harassment has affected our relationship, but we refuse to let it define us. We're determined to rise above the hate and continue to spread love."

As Elon reveals this behind-the-scenes turmoil, the chat's tone shifts. Curiosity starts to eclipse the mean comments, as viewers become genuinely intrigued by the details of Taylor and Elon's shared struggle with Kanye.

"What? Kanye has been harassing them? This is crazy!"

"I didn't know there was this whole drama behind the scenes. Tell us more!"

Taylor grabs a tissue to wipe away a tear that has escaped her eye. She feels a glimmer of hope as the chat grows curious about the story behind Kanye's threats. Taking a moment to compose herself, she opens up about their intense situation.

"The truth is, Kanye has been targeting us, both professionally and personally, for some time now. It's been a rollercoaster of emotions, but through it all, Elon has been my rock. We've stood together against this common enemy, and it has only made our bond stronger."

The chat becomes engulfed in a flurry of questions and supportive messages, as people rally behind Taylor and Elon, eager to know more about the details of the feud. They share anecdotes, talk about Kanye's motives, and discuss the toll it has taken on their relationship.

Taylor and Elon continue to provide glimpses into their journey of resilience, vulnerability, and unconditional love. They speak with a raw and genuine honesty that captivates the audience, laying bare their struggles and triumphs.

With the chat now filled with supportive and curious comments, Taylor feels a glimmer of relief. She takes a moment to collect her thoughts before sharing a heartwarming anecdote about Elon.

"So, let me tell you all a little story," Taylor begins, a smile tugging at her lips. "There was a time when I was receiving these anonymous messages, filled with threats and negativity. It was really affecting me, and I couldn't figure out who was behind it."

She glances at Elon, a fondness in her eyes. "That's when Elon decided to take matters into his own hands. He devised this silly trick to help us uncover who was behind those messages. And you know what? It worked!"

The chat erupts with curiosity, clamoring for details about the trick Elon devised.

"Spill the tea!"

Taylor chuckles, appreciating the newfound positivity in the chat. "Well, let's just say it involved a series of creative and unconventional means to narrow down the suspects. Elon's determination and resourcefulness were truly remarkable."

Elon chimes in, his voice laced with pride. "I wasn't going to let anyone harm Taylor or stand between us. I wanted her to feel safe and protected, and I'm glad our plan worked."

Taylor takes a deep breath, her voice filled with admiration. "You know, people often have preconceived notions about Elon, but in reality, he is incredibly kind-hearted and caring. He's always been there for me, even when the whole world seems to be against us."

The chat responds, with comments expressing surprise and admiration for Elon's efforts.

Taylor takes a deep breath, her heart filled with warmth from the positive response they have received so far. She decides to share another heartwarming story, one that showcases their shared love not only for each other but also for animals.

"You know, Elon and I aren't just partners in love but also in our love for animals," Taylor begins, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. "A few months ago, during a severe storm, we rescued a scared little kitten who was drenched and lost. We couldn't bear to leave her out there, so we took him in and named him Whisket."

As she continues, Taylor beckons the fluffy little bundle of joy onto her lap and lifts him up, showing Whisket to the camera. The chat explodes with excitement, melting at the sight of the cute kitten.

"Guys, this is Whisket, our little baby," Taylor says with a loving smile. "Elon and I are proud cat co-parents, and we couldn't imagine our lives without this little bundle of joy. Whisket brings so much love and happiness into our home."

The chat fills with a chorus of "awws" and heart emojis as viewers express their adoration for the kitten.

Taylor gently strokes Whisket's fur as she elaborates on the joys and challenges of being cat co-parents. She talks about their shared responsibility in caring for Whisket, the late-night cuddles, and the playful moments that fill their days.

Taylor takes another deep breath, her gaze shifting towards the comments flooding the chat. She realizes that while her fans have shown immense support for her and Whisket, there still seems to be a lingering hesitation towards Elon.

"Guys, I want to acknowledge that I understand some of you may have reservations about Elon," Taylor addresses the chat, her voice filled with sincerity. "I know he has a different persona online, and it can be off-putting at times. But I want to ask you to give him a chance."

The chat quiets down as Taylor's words resonate with her fans.

"I've seen a different side of Elon—the side that is funny, kind, and very sweet. Behind the online persona is a person who cares deeply and genuinely wants to make a positive impact on the world. Please give him the opportunity to show you who he truly is."

The chat begins to flood with mixed reactions. Some fans express their skepticism.

Taylor's sincere plea sets the stage for a potential shift in how her fans perceive Elon. She glances at him, silently conveying her gratitude and hopes for a positive change. In response, Elon takes a moment to address the chat directly. His tone is earnest, his words measured.

"I want to apologize for any past behavior that has been off-putting or offensive," Elon says, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "I recognize that I have made mistakes, and I'm working actively on self-improvement. I want to show you all the side of me that Taylor sees—a person capable of kindness, empathy, and compassion."

The chat begins to buzz with anticipation and curiosity.

Taylor takes a moment to address the lingering uncertainty in the chat regarding Elon.

"I just want to reiterate," Taylor says, her tone laced with sincerity, "all I ask is for you to give Elon a chance. I understand the reservations and concerns, but he's been working on himself, and I believe he deserves the opportunity to show you his true colors."

The chat responds with a mix of understanding and cautious enthusiasm.

"And for the record," Taylor adds playfully, "if he messes up, I give you all permission to bother him for the rest of his life. Just kidding, of course!" She lets out a giggle, lightening the mood and eliciting laughter from the chat.

The chat explodes with amusement and playful banter as fans join in on the lighthearted joke.

Taylor joins in on the laughter, her eyes shining with genuine joy. She appreciates her fans' ability to find humor even in the midst of uncertainty.

"Thank you all," Taylor says, her voice filled with gratitude.

As the livestream comes to a close, and with Taylor's playful remark still resonating in the chat, Elon takes a deep breath and addresses the lingering concerns head-on.

"Swifties, I want to assure you all that I fully understand the weight of your doubts and reservations," Elon begins, his voice calm and steady. "I acknowledge that my past behavior may have raised red flags, but I'm committed to growth and change."

The chat remains somewhat skeptical.

"I promise you that I will do my best to behave and show you the side of me that Taylor sees," Elon continues, his eyes sincere. "Taylor's happiness and safety will always be my top priority. I will go above and beyond to ensure she feels loved, cherished, and secure in our relationship."

The chat shows a mix of cautious acceptance and a lingering hesitancy.

Elon nods, understanding the need for tangible proof of his intentions.

"I completely understand your perspective," Elon responds, his tone filled with earnestness. "And you're right, actions are what truly matter. I'm committed to showing you, through my consistent actions, that I truly care for Taylor and that I am actively working on bettering myself as a person."

Moments of silence follow Elon's words as the chat reflects on his promise. The skepticism slowly begins to dissipate, making way for a glimmer of trust.

Taylor and Elon finish the livestream, their hearts filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness. The weight of keeping their relationship hidden for so long has finally been lifted. The comments flood in with overwhelming support and love from their fans, expressing their joy and admiration for the couple.

Amidst the influx of notifications and congratulations, Taylor's emotions start to bubble up. She feels a wave of emotions crashing over her, unsure of what lies ahead now that their relationship is out in the open. Elon, perceptive as ever, wraps his arms around her, providing a comforting embrace.

"You did it, Tay," Elon whispers in her ear, his voice filled with genuine affection. "No hiding anymore."

Taylor's body relaxes in his arms as she takes a moment to soak in the significance of their public announcement. She feels overwhelmed by the support pouring in, grateful for the love shown by their fans and the world. But deep down, the nervousness still lingers, like a whisper in her ear.

"I'm so glad we finally told everyone," Taylor says, her voice tinged with both relief and vulnerability. "But I can't help feeling nervous about what's to come. The media scrutiny, the judgments..."

Elon tightens his hold around Taylor, his presence offering a sense of security. "I understand, love," he reassures her. "But remember, we've overcome so much already."

Taylor looks up at him, their eyes locked in a shared understanding. She finds solace in the depths of his gaze, a silent promise of unwavering support and love.

With renewed determination, Taylor takes a deep breath and releases the tension in her body. The nervousness gradually transforms into a sense of empowerment. She realizes that their love is strong enough to withstand any obstacles that may arise.

[little-zabrak]

btw I'm very grateful for the warm reception my Grievous smutfic got, it keeps getting attention and I'm very happy to find that I'm not the only one who thinks he's neat

[messedupfan]

Should've Told You (Leigh Shaw x Reader) Chapter 1

Summary: You are taking care of your best friend, Leigh Shaw, after her husband has died in an accident

A/N: I don't know why but when I write this I'm not sure about the gender of the reader so this one will exclusively have they/them pronouns. Hopefully you enjoy this and let me know what you think. Also this story bounces between the past and present to show how the reader fits in Leigh's life. Oh and I don't know where the relationship will land with them in the end. Suggestions are appreciated.

Masterlist | All Chapters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leigh Shaw lost her husband on June 15th and it sent you into a whirlpool of emotions once the news reached you. None of which you had time to process fully before you were driving to her. The second your assistant had passed along the information you pulled out your mic pack, apologized to the interviewer and appeared at the front door of the Shaw home. You knew that she wouldn’t be at her apartment because that’s where she lived with her husband and he wasn’t living anymore. Her mother answered the door and she gave you a sad smile as she stepped aside to let you in. You followed the sounds of her sobs and the second she saw you she jumped into your arms and the two of you held each other tight. She cried against you well into the night and you let her until she fell asleep.

This became a daily routine for some time. For the first couple of weeks, if Leigh was awake, she was crying and you held her until she passed out. During the weeks that followed you were on autopilot being the best person that you could be for Leigh and her family. You did everything and anything they needed. Giving Leigh space when she needed it. Being there when she was having a melt down. Bringing food when Amy was concerned with her daughter's appetite. Helping with funeral arrangements, helping her read the eulogy when it got too difficult to speak. That was the hardest task. Leigh’s biggest worry when getting ready was that she didn’t want to have a big breakdown in front of everyone. The second that there was a sign of one you had stepped in and she was grateful for the rescue. She was able to collect herself as the funeral went on but you stuck by her side during the reception just in case.

You held her hand through as much of it as she needed you to and only stepped away when she needed a drink. During which she lost her strength again and when you returned to her you had to lead her upstairs to her room. Once the gathering was over you stayed around and helped with the clean up even though Amy told you it was unnecessary. But you just made it clear that you were there for everyone. Amy gave you a warm hug and thanked you for everything and said that she doesn’t know if they could have gotten through any of this without you. You felt sheepish and told her it was nothing, that you were just doing what you knew Leigh would do for you. At least what she tried to do but your situation was very different. When everything was cleaned up it had been late into the night and you ended up crashing on their couch. You woke up to Jules stumbling inside with a bottle of something and loud laughter, you sighed and shook your head in disapproval.

After a few more nights of binge drinking, Jules approached you while you were making breakfast for everyone and revealed that she was ready to get sober. You pulled her against you in a proud hug and were more than happy to help her get into the best rehab program that you knew of. Amy was concerned about the price and you told her and Jules not to worry about paying for it. You were careful to mention that it wasn’t charity just that you cared about the girl and wanted to help her get better. Jules was in tears grateful for your generosity and promised that she would pay you back someday. You told her that the only thing you’d accept is her sobriety. The next morning you dropped her off at the facility along with Amy and Leigh.

You continued to stick around the Shaw home in case anyone needed you. During the day you stayed at the house while Amy went to work so she didn’t have to worry about her studio, Beautiful Beast, and her daughters well being. If you had ever made the effort to attend any of the classes Leigh invited you to over the years, you might have done that instead for Amy so she could be home with her daughter. Unfortunately, you weren’t very good at that sort of thing.

For a time, each day with Leigh differed from the last. Your routine however was pretty consistent. Sometimes you arrived early in the morning other times you woke up there on the couch. But every time, Leigh was a little different. There were times when she would hole up in her room and you weren’t allowed to go in, until the times when she made you hold her in her bed. You always left when she fell asleep. Then there were the times that she felt like she needed to clean and organize everything, which you also helped with. No matter how many times she snapped at you for doing something wrong. Lastly were the days she would just plop herself in front of the tv and cuddle up to you on the couch and she would only pay enough attention to the content in order to avoid crying. You made sure to only put on her favorite movies or shows. Things you knew would make her feel better. Those were the best days to get her to eat and teach her how to take care of herself again. You hated seeing her this way but knew it was a necessary process.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had met Leigh in your freshman year of high school in a film and media class. You were new to the area and were taking the class because as long as you could remember you had always wanted to be a professional actor. Except, you definitely did not want to be a child star. Part of that was shame for already falling into the cliche of wanting to be in the industry. But another part of you knew that you wanted to have all of the normal experiences of being a kid and not to mention that you simply weren’t ready for that kind of pressure at the time. So you took every learning opportunity that you could get. Which was a lot once you moved to California and was surrounded by a wide variety of coaches, institutions, camps, etc. Leigh however, had zero interest in that kind of thing and you felt sheepish when she revealed to you that her mother made her take the class. After all these years you still had no clue as to why that was.

It wasn’t an instant friendship. In fact you didn’t talk to her the first few months of school. You had just moved there because your step-father had taken a job out there, which majorly worked out in your favour. But you had a lot going on at the time and weren’t sure if you wanted to make a lot of friends right away. Besides, you didn’t notice her until the second week because the teacher switched class rooms and didn’t do the class icebreakers until then.

When the teacher did finally do the icebreakers, she had everyone stand in a circle and had them state their name and what they would bring to some imaginary picnic based on the first letter of their name. Something to help memorize everyone’s names. She had pointed out the importance of knowing the name of everyone a person is forced to be surrounded by. The first girl was bright and cheery as she said her name was Aida and that she brought Apples. Even made a light joke, “Like I eat a apple. Aida Apple.” Then the guy next to her repeated what she said and introduced himself as Justin, he brought Juice. And you paid attention to each person as it went down the circle because the teacher consistently reminded the class that there would be a quiz on Friday. She wanted everyone to be very familiar with each other.

Leigh brought Lollipops. She said it with a slight shyness that interested you because she had just been giggling with the two girls next to her. Then it came to you and you had to shake your head to clear the thoughts of her and try to remember everyone else’s names. For the most part, you were successful until the kid beside you moved so that you could have a better view of the people he’d been blocking. That’s when you saw her green eyes for the first time and completely forgot where you were for a moment. So you tried to remember what she brought and the first thought you had when you heard her name. “Lollipop brought Leighs, and Isabella brought Ice…” you trailed off when you heard giggles from the class and looked around in confusion.

“Leigh brought Lollipops,” the teacher corrected with a kind smile but the confusion didn’t leave your face. That’s what I said, wasn’t it? Oh no, what did I say?

“I thought…” you close your eyes and shake your head. “What did I say?”

Leigh spoke up this time and you noticed the blush on her cheeks, “You said Lollipop brought Leighs.” Now it was your turn to blush and you began to apologize. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” You then looked at the teacher and asked if you had to start over. She shook her head and asked you to continue. So you said the next two people and finally introduced yourself and what you brought. Once the entire class had gone the teacher then told everyone where they would sit. You stood awkwardly with your stuff in the back of the crowd trying to squash the embarrassment as you waited to hear your name. But you looked up when she pointed at Leigh’s desk with interest. You wondered for a second who would have to sit behind her…

“Y/n Y/l/n right behind Leigh,” the teacher called out and you swallowed thickly as you walked through the small gathering of students to get to your seat. You thought about apologizing again but it was clear she was engaged in a conversation with the person in front of her so you decided to leave well enough alone and wait for your next class. Thankfully, that was the only class you had with her. You practiced everyone’s names but focused especially on her name so not to mess up again. And on friday when it was your turn to go, she gave you a shy smile when you got it right.

You thought that would be the end of that, she hadn’t seemed like the type of person you would be friends with any way so you tried not to think about her and her green eyes ever again. Except, she made it nearly impossible. Every class she would lean back in her seat and stretch her arms out which made you lean off of your desk to avoid being hit in the face. That wasn’t as bad as when she would run her hands under her hair, lift it slightly and make it flow in front of you, forcing you to breathe in the perfume of her shampoo. All of this caused you to try and practice better posture but that was difficult with the amount of notes you were required to take before finding out what your first assignment was. You bit your lip nervously to find out that you could choose to partner up or do a solo project. You wanted to ask her but figured she already had people to choose from. She seemed like a sociable person and as much as you wanted to be. You weren’t.

She ended up needing to be partnered up by the teacher, which surprised you and you began to wonder if you had misjudged her. You almost volunteered but someone else had beat you to it so you didn’t dwell on it too much.

It wasn’t until the second project was being announced that you accepted that you had read her all wrong. That morning felt different to you for some reason and it made you feel a little more confident and social. As you sat in your seat you noticed a Stitch character pin on her backpack and you felt bold enough to just do the impression you willingly spent your free time working on. She turned around with a smile and asked you to do it again. Then she asked if you could only say the phrase or talk like him in general. You shrugged and said, “I don’t know, I’ve only tried the line,” in the Stitch voice and that made her laugh. She asked you to curse in the voice and you did without fear of being overheard by the teacher. Then class started and you were delighted to see your name being written next to hers as the teacher explained that those were your groups. You didn’t even care to look at the other two when you tapped her shoulder. “Guess we’re working together,” you said pointing to the board. She turned around to look at it then turned back to you.

“Looks like it,” she smiled politely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leigh and Amy were excited for Jules to return from the rehab program with a confirmed thirty days sober. You were proud of Jules for the accomplishment as well. Amy wanted the transition to be as smooth as possible and wanted every trace of temptation gone. So at the moment the three of you were dumping out the bottles that had accumulated over the years at the house when Leigh got the brilliant idea that instead of dumping some very expensive gifts Amy has received over the years, the three of you should consume the good stuff and only toss the cheap alcohol. You weren’t too quick to accept since drinking around Leigh has always made you nervous. There was so much you kept secret from her and you always worried about slipping up if you were drunk around her. But at the moment you couldn’t say no to Leigh so you drank with her and her mother. It was fun to see Leigh laugh and act free for the first time in almost two months. You hadn’t seen that side of her for sometime now. Even before Matt died, it had been awhile since she has seemed this free.

Of course though at some point she was crying in her mothers arms and you were trying to get her mind off of it by doing an awful impressions show while being completely wasted. When you toppled over yourself while doing a more physical bit you were finally able to distract Leigh from her tears and then begin to really make her smile. Amy was super grateful as she was getting tired and was ready to go to sleep. She grabbed the remaining cheap bottles and dumped them before she excused herself for the night. She had significantly less drinks than you and Leigh so she was able to move around with no problem. You and Leigh groaned in disagreement but eventually let her go to bed. Then it was just the two of you.

Luckily, you had way too much alcohol in your system to get nervous by the situation. Then Leigh had the brilliant idea for the two of you to go on YouTube and search up karaoke songs to have your own karaoke night. In the reality of it, neither of you was able to figure out how to work the smart TV and so nothing was ever actually on the screen. But that wasn’t a problem, the both of you were drunk enough to think you had successfully worked the device. The two of you belted out songs together until you got dizzy and noticed that the remaining bottles had mysteriously disappeared. The pair of you pouted searching for them but came up short. Then when you had given up on looking, Leigh complained about being tired but she didn’t want to sleep on the couch so she held her arms out to you and asked you to help her to bed.

You giggled and foolishly agreed to help her up the stairs with one of her arms around your shoulder and your arm securely around her waist. You immediately regretted the decision on the first step. You hadn’t noticed just how inebriated you were until you saw that you had three sets of legs. The two of you giggled while struggling to get up the stairs. But by some miracle the pair of you made it up to the second floor without getting hurt or dying. Then you got her to her room and both of you stumbled and landed on her bed. You felt your eyes drooping and a heavy tiredness settle over your body but something in your head reminded you that you couldn’t sleep here. So you mustered up every ounce of strength and energy you had left in you and stood from the bed. But Leigh groaned with a pout as she lifted her head recognizing the lack of weight on the bed. “Where are you going, Gumdrop? Stay with me,” she whined as she reached for your hand. You smile at the nickname she had given you years ago.

“I’m going to sleep on the couch, Lollipop. Like I always do,” you answer as you let her take your hand. She squeezes it lightly and makes a funny dissatisfied noise.

“No, but I need you here. With me. Please?” She pouts her lip more as she uses her drunk puppy dog eyes to her advantage. You sigh and let go of her hand which causes more protesting sounds from her but you ignore her as you shut her door and flip the lights off.

In the pitch black room you groan and stomp your foot like a child. “Oh shit, I didn’t think this through.” Your words of distress cause Leigh to giggle and you let out a slight exclamation. She asks what’s wrong and you just tell her to keep talking to help you navigate.

“Like a bat?” You smile as you imagine her adorable confused face. You nod until you realize she can’t see you so you verbally confirm for her. “Okay, I don’t know what to say. I’m getting sleepier by the second so you better hurry up…” her words begin to trail and you try to take a bigger step but end up hitting your shin harshly against the front of the bed. You let out a silent cry as you hold your leg up to your chest. “Oh that sounded bad, Gumdrop. You are so going to hate me in the morning,” she lets out a little chuckle as you land on the bed right next to her with a pained groan.

“Oh, you know that I never could before. Why should I start now?” You slur sleepily as you make yourself comfortable.

“True,” she says as she blindly feels for you, slapping her hand on the mattress until she hits you a couple of times, before she moves closer.

You scrunch your face, “What are you doing?”

“Just shut up and hold me, you dork,” she says, annoyed with your questions.

“Wow. How we ever remained friends is suddenly a mystery to me,” you grumbled as you wrapped your arms around her. Your heart picked up in speed as you felt her snuggle into your chest.

“Because you love me,” she answered smugly as she got comfortable. Before you could come up with a snide remark you could tell she was already gone to the world. So you sighed and shut your eyes as sleep overcame you.

Chapter 2

[apriorisea]

"That's What These Mean" Yoongi x You

"You both look so beautiful!" Your aunt still has your hand gripped firmly between both of hers, and she punctuates every word with a tight squeeze. "So happy, so perfect, so wonderful!"

"Thanks so much," you say for the millionth time, managing to keep your smile intact. "We're so glad you're here." You try to extract your hand, but it's no use.

"When I married your uncle---" she begins, and you feel something inside you start to wither away.

You loved your aunt, you really did, but it had been such a long day, and there were so many people. So much small talk and smiling and pictures and the words "thank you so much" were starting to lose all meaning. You felt your social battery nearing its limit. A few more seconds here and you might implode entirely. It---

"Oh!" Your hand is suddenly released as your aunt's attention is drawn to someone who has appeared behind you; someone who placed one hand on the small of your back and reached out his other to claim your own recently-liberated hand. Your aunt is beaming. "Here's the gentleman himself!"

Yoongi's hand slips around your waist, pulling you back against him slightly as he joins the conversation. "Hello," he says politely and warmly, gently squeezing your fingers. "Sorry to interrupt, but may I steal my lovely wife for a bit?"

Your aunt is still beaming, absolutely thrilled at the sight of him and the two of you together. "Of course!" she gushes, and you could swear she's got tears in her eyes. "I wouldn't keep a man from his beautiful, blushing bride, not for one second!"

Yoongi smiles, still polite, still warm. "Thank you. We're so glad you're here!" And with that, he pulls you away, guiding you across the room with ease.

You allow yourself to be towed away, feeling some of your own warmth return at the feel of his hand wrapped protectively around yours. When you both are stopped for a moment by a passing conga-line, you lean forward and press a kiss to his shoulder. "Thanks, baby," you murmur, straightening just in time to roll your eyes playfully at Hoseok and Taehyung, who were clearly the instigators of the ridiculous dance line.

He responds by squeezing your fingers, but doesn't stop to speak just yet.

A moment later, you realize why: pushing open a door, he leads you into a small room just off the main hall. It's decorated simply, flowers and all, but the main focus is the small, velvet-cushioned couch up against the far wall.

Yoongi closes the door behind you and when you turn to look at him, he gives you a soft smile. "I thought you could use a little break."

Heart exploding with gratitude, you melt into him, wrapping your arms around his waist and holding on tight. "You were right," you mumble against his shoulder.

"I needed it, too," he admits, kissing the side of your head. Pulling back a little, he guides you to the small couch and helps you settle comfortably, arranging your dress in the best way possible. When you're all set, he stays standing for a moment, looking down at you with a strange expression on his face.

"...What?"

He smiles. "You're beautiful."

You feel your entire face flush. "Yoongi..."

Leaning down, he brushes a strand of your hair away from your face. "I love you so much, my sweetheart," he says softly. "I'm happiest when I'm with you."

You close the small gap, kissing him until he's forced to settle on the couch next to you. When you finally break apart, you snuggle into his side, his arms wrapped around you, holding each other tight.

"I love you, too," you say, absently fiddling with a button on his shirt. "I'm so grateful for you and how well you know me."

He kisses your forehead. "Everyone out there is great," he sighs, leaning back against the couch's soft cushions. "But, like always, sometimes I just need to be alone...with you. My beautiful girl." A grin creeps over his face. "My beautiful wife."

"Oh, that's right..." you pretend. "I did marry you today, didn't I?"

Yoongi rolls with it. "Yes, you did. What were you thinking?"

Twisting towards him, you reach up and kiss the tip of his nose. "That I love you more than anything in this whole universe and if I had to spend even a second without you, I'd probably die."

He laughs. "Oh, is that all?"

You nod.

Leaning in to kiss you again, he murmurs against your lips: "I feel the same."

Grinning, you settle into him again, resting your head on his shoulder as he absently played with your fingers. "...How long do you think we can hide out here?"

"As long as we want," he says confidently.

You sigh. "Probably not, considering that it's our wedding reception after all."

"That," he says, squeezing you a little tighter. "is exactly why we can do what we want. It's our party. Plus I'm pretty sure they'll stay distracted by that infernal dance line for a while now..."

This makes you laugh. "Best gift they could ever give us!"

He grins at the sound of your laughter, unable to stop himself from leaning in to kiss your cheek. "Why don't we stay just a little longer? Just until we're both able to face all that again?"

"I like the sound of that," you agree. "But when we do go back, we do it together, okay? No more getting ambushed alone!"

Tapping the ring on his finger, then the one on yours, he says seriously, "No more doing anything scary alone, sweetheart."

You follow his gaze to the rings. "Ah, so that's what these mean." You smile. "That sounds perfect to me."