#but I still make myself take half of one bc I’m anxious now and I know deep down it’ll chill me out in an hour or so

[floral-hex]

taking an edible for me is “this is a bad idea. this is a bad idea. thisisabadideathisisabadideathisisabadidea. oh hey this isn’t so bad. this is nice. nice. nice. nice. aaaaaaaand I’m sleepy.”

[hellfireeddiemunson]

W A I T IM SO DUMB OMG

I did the wrong fucking math of when i needed to be at work and i’m actually glad i woke up now bc i need to be awake

i went to bed at like 10pm lastnight bc i was so tired i kept dozing off but also bc i was just soooooo bored i was like why be awake !

the problem now is i’m awake and i don’t actually need to be up for work for another hour and 45 mins. 🧍🏻

[eolewyn1010]

Dragging Frankenstein - Chapter 19

Which starts out gay, and keeps getting gayer. Half the time, I'm left wondering if Mary Shelley did this on purpose.

“Clerval desired the intercourse of the men of genius and talent” – XD Good on you, Henry, for setting higher standards than pretty. DAS GAY: 27

…okay, the way Victor is all about loving Henry and how wonderful Henry is gets them another one for their relationship. DAS GAY: 28

I’ll hold back from giving one for Henry being “anxious to gain experience and instruction”, but… yeah, have fun, sweetie. My brain is a little Pride Month-addled.

-.- Aaaand Henry promptly gets a sympathy point removed for wanting to progress India’s colonization. Dude.

“that I might not debar him from the pleasures natural to one who was entering on a new scene of life” o.O Okay, WHY is this reading like Henry has just come out and is exploring the local gay scene??

And with the “collecting materials” again, how does Victor hide them from his boyfriend, both in London and then during travelling? Imagine the conversation. “Uhm… Victor… you might wanna wash your underwear before packing it; the luggage is kind of smelly.”

“although I abhorred society” – wooooow, Victor is a real sunshine, isn’t he? I mean, I’m socially anxious, but that sounds more like the Creature in his hatred for humanity.

Once again, the passage of time confuses me. Shelley’s transitions, man. How tf do they need four months from London to Scotland? And why would they begin this journey in fucking February? And can Victor really afford to take this time? And give us a history lesson on the country, to boot. Like Bram Stoker, Shelley can’t resist the temptation to write a travel guide. Train schedules, anyone?

Every “soon” is “four months later”, Victor needed 6 fucking YEARS to go back home to visit his family. Honestly, I’m amazed that the shallow twit even still wants to marry Elizabeth and doesn’t consider her an old maid not worthy of his attention at this point. It’d be like him.

However, as my friend pointed out, he rarely ever thinks about actually being married to Elizabeth. It’s a very abstract concept to him, marrying her at all. How convenient that he doesn’t have to get used to it. Being married would require him to actually take the role he has rejected regarding the Creature. He’d have to take responsibility for Elizabeth and the household, for hypothetical children. He’d have to be dependable, emotionally, financially, in regards to the time he spends with them. It’s different with Henry. Henry is the one who’s always there to support him, and to be up for every whim of Victor’s. A marriage doesn’t work that way. Conclusion: Victor’s problem isn’t that the Creature is ugly. It’s just that Victor is a fucking deadbeat.

Ah, but it wouldn’t be complete without Victor moping. Feeling once more that Stephenie Meyer’s characters are heavily based on 19th century gothic horror novels, even though she completely fails at the horror part. All the same whiners. “Byronic hero” my ass; try “emo brat”.

“…at Servox and Chamonix. The latter name made me tremble when pronounced by Henry” – XDDD I know what Victor is on about, but the choice of words makes me think that, for a student of languages, Henry seems to really butcher that pronunciation.

“I could now almost fancy myself among the Swiss mountains.” – Yeah, why would you go anywhere else at all if not to feel exactly like at home?

When Victor talks about getting letters from home, he gives us this baffling line: “I hardly dared to read and ascertain my fate.” Oh, right. Whether Elizabeth and his father and brother are still alive is Victor’s fate. Had almost forgotten it. IT’S ALL ABOUT ME: 20

“you enjoy yourself, and let this be our rendezvous” – DAS GAY: 29

This journey is really an opportunity for the boys to have a gay old time, huh.

I’m giving this another double bc Henry gets so heartache-y at separating from Victor for a while, “I cannot feel at home in your absence” and all that. Henry, you’re too good for him. DAS GAY: 30

Victor travels to the Orkneys and sneers about how poor his surroundings and the people are -.- I held back on giving him a point for the smug attitude with which he just presumed some important scientist would be eager to share all his wisdom with him, the college drop-out brat, but I will so count his turning up his nose on miserable cows, “squalidness of the most miserable penury”, gaunt limbs, and meals that have the audacity to consist of oatmeal and vegetables. I SO PRIVILEGED: 9

“I ordered it to be repaired, bought some furniture, and took possession” – He’s insistent on pissing me off, the patronizing little shitstain. Why don’t you repair it yourself? I SO PRIVILEGED: 10

“As it was, I lived ungazed at and unmolested” o.O Is. Is Victor craving some gazes and molestation or something?

“employed in the most detestable occupation” …yeah, right, but when you did it the first time, serving no benefit but your own fame, then it was a noble undertaking of creating a new species and shit.

[gymbrogaymersadfag]

The way I stopped caring some gays treat me different now I’ve had a colossal “glow-up.” Like, you wanna party with me now? Oh you party with ppl u wanna fuck? We can play this game. I’ll let u snort my blow if u suck my dick, is that how you want things to be?? Get on your knees 😭😭😭

For context I think I was always so cute. Hair used to be thinner and I had a slight chubbiness that went nicely over my muscles and sometimes I looked like a borderline bara hunk. Super innocent face with amazing smile and luckily some really nice teeth. I could get laid with other cute guys pretty often, but when I’d go clubbing, the rudeness came out of no where for no reason from some gay ringleaders of various friend groups who didn’t want to be seen with me or in some cases for their friends to be seen with me.

I’ve worked on my hair for a couple years with finasteride and minoxidil and as long as it’s done nicely after a shower, it’s now as thick as it was when I was 15 - I’m 28. When I was 23, it was thin enough to see right to my scalp all over on a sunny day. For two years now I’ve been taking human growth hormone and a topical testosterone cream.

3 months ago, I started ozempic. Literally off the black market, but from a source I’ve trusted for other medications. I also cycle in some other peptides, similar meds to ozempic which all do various things as they target the pituitary gland to release different stuff in the body. (Melanotan 2, for example, makes me more tan and increases my libido. That one is illegal in the US and has random side effects on random people, so be careful before trying that one out.) Only two of my friends know I’m on ozempic. The fat has come off my body and the muscle I’ve been building with very regular gym workouts for 6+ years, 4-6x/week, is suddenly so obvious on me. I was soft all over but now I’ve got two bouncy pecs and a 6 pack I’ve never seen on myself even in my brief college twinky phase.

I might also add that I’ve been doing full service sex work since 2018, so like also 6 years. I’m just used to middle aged guys trading head with me, handing me a couple benjamins, and me driving home for the night. Sex is something I always just felt so natural partaking in, and I’ve enjoyed being a sex worker more than any other job, since my first full-time at 14 detassling in corn fields.

Going into gay raves the last month and a half, I can make out with pretty much any guy. It’s weird. I thought maybe I would feel more confident but it’s something else. Not confidence, not insecurity, but a secret third thing. I feel like some of these hot guys are like, just other clients. Like, ok you wanna fuck me?? Sure let’s do it. I’m just there. Yeah, I’m still enjoying myself. I’m being treated like I won something but I don’t feel like I’ve won something. And a lot of these guys didn’t give me the time of day 6 months ago. I remember which ones too, but they literally don’t remember me. Should I care??? It’s not even painful, it’s more just like “oh this whole game really is skin deep. I knew it all along, but didn’t realize the magnitude.”

The biggest crush I ever had has crippling self confidence issues that impacted the chance we had with each other even before this glow up of mine. Like I said I was always cute. I feel like I have less than zero chance with him now. He gets so anxious and nervous around me when we’re alone. He sometimes responds to my compliments of him with expressions of self hatred. He responds to my little flirts with great discomfort, so I stopped trying and made it clear I still enjoy him as a friend in the group and want him around in any context. This was months ago. I know he likes me. I know he jacks off at night thinking about me, a year and a half after the one passionate night we had. Sometimes I’ve gotten the impression that he doesn’t like standing next to me in pictures because he doesn’t like seeing our faces next to each other bc he doesn’t like his own face.

He’s gorgeous. I know I’m not the only one who thinks so. I think girls like his looks more than gay boys, I’ve had multiple instances where a girlfriend of mine hopefully asked me if he was straight. Loves his junk food and couch rotting and maybe oughtta start working out more just for his mental health, but physically I wouldn’t change a thing. He was a college athlete and I think he feels bad bc he was college-athlete-hot 5 years ago and had the opposite trajectory as me when it comes to technically-hot-body. He pushed me away so many times I’m at peace with the thought nothing may ever work out. But I still yearn to be his little spoon every night.

I blame these other skin-deep muscle gays

[unknwnxquantity]

I’m being called to write about this! This is about resentment

Idk if I’ll make this short or I’ll add onto it. Theres so much to talk about.

Resentment. People pleasing. I’ve done so much for other ppl. Especially in my love life. I’ve betrayed myself so much. I’m burnt out now. I’ve kept a lot of peace and held back. I’d apologize to make the other person feel better and ofc I’d validate their experience. But I feel I wouldn’t stick up for mine. Not as much as I should’ve. I feel me not sticking up for myself is partly due to feeling a lack of outrage and anger. I have a whole other entry about anger that I talk about. Maybe I’ll publish it one day. Maybe I’ll keep it in my drafts for myself. Finally being able to TAP INTO the anger after over two decades and a half of not being able to express my anger outwardly to those who deserved it, or at least transmuted in a way that expressed my boundaries and a “don’t fuck with me I’m not a fucking pushover” energy. That’s a whole other topic. I’ve been suchhhh a pushover. I’m at a place where I respectfully or disrespectfully put ppl in their place. Depends on how triggered I am. Depends on the consequences. It’s trickier in the work place. Even more tricky in a household where you paid no bills in.

Anywayssss🤪 I’m at a point where I feel so much resentment. I’ve been somewhat angry at the world even tho I know better. I’m tired of giving. I’m tired of feeling anxious and if someone’s upset my mind spirals, my *previous* anxious attachment style… I feel I’m becoming avoidant now 😔💔 would be super triggered and I’d go in circles, miles a min about, playing all these different scenarios in my head about how I could make the situation better for the other person. To alleviate (I just learned how to spell that word correctly) their sadness or anger or confusion. I’d rush to the rescue. Id drop everything I’m doing and run to them to try and help the situation. Literally run. Commute. Uber. Going in circles tryna get the perfect gift(s). be the perfect person. Birthdays anniversaries Christmas. You’re in debt now. Everyone even told you save your money! Don’t go all out! They understand money is tight. And yet now you’re resentful for what you gave THAT YOU CHOSE TO GIVE! Theres so much pressure now to get the best gift, the best diy… I’d give and give, and people please. I was used to being selfish when I was younger in terms of taking gifts/food/etc and not giving back, that now being an adult I try to overly compensate. But when you think about it, people pleasing is selfish. It’s self serving to you, to make YOU feel better about the situation. Sometimes it’s okay for ppl to be upset with you. For them to not have the answer. You don’t have to work your brain into overdrive! It’s a nice gesture but at the end of the day, it roots back to selfish reasons to alleviate YOUR OWN discomfort. Crazyyyyyy. Then you set an expectation from those around you to keep picking up their pieces. Until you have nothing left to give. It can take you years, decades to reach a breaking point. It could be a dramatic breaking point, or a calming point of like “wait… I actually don’t have it in me to do it. I’m tapped out. I can’t do it anymore”. And then you start getting upset at other ppl… for your own behavior!!! They’re still a good person and yet why do you feel these mixed emotions toward them. Youre not as nice anymore. You start lacking empathy. You start lashing out more easily. Becoming slightly more vengeful. Yet you set yourself up for this! It’s not their fault you people pleased and betrayed your own self. It’s your fault. Now you need to pick up your own pieces and figure out… what do my boundaries even look like? It sucks…. Bc the ppl you betrayed yourself for, you start to associate them with that resentment. They didn’t really do anything technically. Sucks even more when they’re a beautiful person and they mean good. Like they’re the whole package. They have their own traumas and angers. They’re still figuring it out too. And they’re like what happened? What did I do? And then they’re like well I’m resentful too! What about me???.. They don’t deserve that. Another gray area of life. Another side journey, another phase. It passes you now, but what do you do with the people around you that you have this pent up anger toward? Do you wanna work through it bc they’re worth it, or are things just fading out gradually? What is it you need to do? Is it too late, did you reach a point of no return? Are the feelings still enough to salvage and work through? Every dynamic has a phase, endless phases.. no one really talks about that. Is this a part of the phases no one talks about in long term situations? Do you push through and hopefully you heal your resentment and can be a better person for yourself and them?How do you heal and release all these feelings? I guess that’s what I’m doing with these entries. Remember you’re doing the best you can with what you know, so be easy on yourself.. or are you really?

My break is about to be over. My minds blanking now. I’ll leave as is

Funny enough hours later, “that’s on me” by Mac miller comes up on shuffle on my playlist. And from what I talked about.. it applies. I love when a song brings a new meaning to you. So now I guess whenever I hear the song, I’ll think of this entry. And vice versa

[thesunshinebehindyourdestruction]

I miss 2015/2016, I had it mostly pretty good then compared to where I am now, and for the most part I knew it too. Like, yeah I was still getting over my high school sweetheart and I was dealing with my parents and living at home, but like, overall things were pretty good. I had so many friends, I was going out and doing things (I went to a fair number of concerts and went out to hangouts at a friends house every weekend or something), I felt accepted in my community, I was confident in my looks and there were a fair number of people who were crushing on me, I didn’t have to worry about bills or money bc my parents took care of my basic needs and tuition and I had a job so I could pay for my wants, I was really coming to love and accept myself for who I was, I had a strong personality that other people were drawn to, I had my issues but I hadn’t gone through my most traumatic experiences yet. There’s a photo of me in 2016 crying from laughter at an ihop when I was with my 2 best friends, and when my friends were wondering what I was so happy about I just said “I’m so glad I have friends”. I miss crying from laughter, I don’t think I’ve done that in a long time.

Idk going to that concert the other night was just, such a high point compared to all the shit I’ve gone through. I went to a patd concert in 2019 but we had seats in the balcony for that, so the last few concerts I went to that were somewhat similar to the Waterparks one the other night, with close crowds and moshing and crowd surfing and a kind of intimate relationship with the band and the crowd, were in 2015. And like, I didn’t feel socially anxious at the concert like I normally am around people these days. I had a conversation with a stranger in the parking lot and it felt totally natural, I was talking to my friend that I brought with me at a volume that other people could hear in the merch line and I just didn’t care, and when my friend left to go to one of the opener’s merch table and I stayed to listen to the other opener I didn’t feel afraid, I felt totally at home in the crowd. And I haven’t felt that way since those concerts in 2015.

Idk I just miss having friends and a community and going out and doing things that I enjoy. I miss being able to just live my life and not be afraid, I miss being young and full of love for my friends and my life. Maybe I’m romanticizing it, I know I didn’t always feel good in those days, but I was a big proponent of “fake it till you make it” and some days I was faking it, but in the end it really did help and I was making it. But things have just gone downhill since then. I want life to be as good as it was back then again. And I know that maybe I could get there again with the right mindset, fake it till I make it again, but it also feels kind of impossible.

Maybe if I do move to Santa Cruz in a year and a half I can try again to have a life like that. Make some friends, find a community, be myself, my true self. Not this shell that I’ve been left as after all my trauma. It’ll take a lot more work than it did back then, back then it was so easy, I didn’t have to try to be myself and make friends, I didn’t hide anything about who I was and friends just came to me. This time around it’ll take a lot more work to allow myself to just say “this is me” without my anxiety and people pleasing tendencies taking over, it’ll take a lot more work to find friends and a community than when I was surrounded by people in community college. But I want that life back.

[jihopesjoint]

ok i mainlined all three parts that are out probably slower than i am capable of bc the iron deficiency stole my concentration and ability to stay awake but anyway. hey. AHAH. holy fuck i’m not even sure where to begin? i’ll go under a cut now

we should probably keep in mind that i truly am a local as far as skz goes. and idk one thing about fanfiction is that i feel like it’s easier to evoke emotion because it uses characters that we’re already attached to as readers. but i didn’t have that here and i was still depressed 😌 AND ANXIOUS OH WHEN THEY WENT TO TRY TO DESTABILIZE THE FUCKING BLISS BETA. RIPPING HAIR OUT I TELL YOU also why did you have to make my love wooyoung a victim of the human trials i don’t care what people think he’s done he’s innocent your honor on account of he’s so fucking cute okay this is so irrelevant i’m sorry continuing

i keep saying this but the only thing wattpad has going for it is being able to leave comments on every single paragraph of a posted work because there are so many instances where the way you simply phrased a sentence made me wanna put my fist through the wall??? but god dammit i’m just so lazy i can’t make myself compile them all and comment on them at the end. i have one half-assed example and it’s something something turnover something something turn is over JUST!!!!! CLEVER. WITTY. GENIUS. AND THIS HAPPENED SO MANY TIMES

also i think just the concept in general is so cool and unique. taking one storyline and separating the events between 4 different members is really fun as a reader. and in a story as complex as this, i think it makes sense that there’s multiple main players rather than one person (or one couple) being at the center of everything

circling back to the complexity: jesus fucking christ dude. i told you already that this is original fiction and can be published. i mean who are these mfs to me anyway? but i am invested. you effectively built a world, AND it was easy to follow. AND it made sense. i did not question your lore and i was not confused by it. and like. it’s cyberpunk. science fiction. it’s SO MADE UP AND YOU MADE IT UP. JUST!!!! i hope your writing this is giving you the confidence boost you deserve about your abilities because this was a huge undertaking of a series and you are executing it BEAUTIFULLY. i am endlessly impressed by you

okay i’m not sure i even said everything i wanted to say but i’m fading bro i’m so sleepy and if i don’t post this now i never will.

good job. i love you. see you later

FORCE QUIT | MASTERLIST

“And we’re going to burn it all down.” He hits you with a devilish grin, drops his voice low in a way that makes you shiver involuntarily. “The corpo-rats, the lies they sell — all of it.”

pairing: skz x afab!reader — varies per episode summary: it's 2077, and life's a fucking nightmare. corporate titans ate the state and shat it back out, leaving citizens of the new republic to fall in line, or fall to their knees. a reckoning is coming — where will you fall? series au: dystopian, cyberpunk ➢ insp. by: cyberpunk 2077 + the true lives of the fabulous killjoys series genre: smut + angst, primarily. series word count: 50-60k (estimated) rating: 18+ — minors do not have my consent to interact. estimated drop: november/december 2023 (subject to change) series warnings: it's a capitalist hellscape.... lol, civil disobedience, acts of violence (hand-to-hand, firearms, explosives), depictions of injuries (blood, bruising, etc.) but nothing grotesque, some characters have cybernetic modifications, class conflict + discussions of poverty, surprise - corporations are bad!, references to unethical medical/tech experimentation, reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns, see episodes (when posted) for specific CWs. ➢ important notes (incl. taglist) + episode descriptions are below the cut.

important notes:

➢ each episode features a different member x reader pairing, but the plot is linear, so you'd need to read them (in order) to get the full picture! ➢ each episode's reader has a nickname, which is 1) also the episode title, 2) how other characters (and i as a writer) refer to them across the series. ➢ you can sign up for the taglist to be notified of uploads. you must sign up through this link to be tagged; i won't be pulling people from comments, DMs, etc. because that's too hard to keep track of, lol. i'm checking every blog that signs up to make sure that everyone is 18+.

episode i: scraps — released 11/6/23

pairing: trainer!felix x edgerunner!reader au: childhood friends to strangers to something summary: you didn't have "anti-capitalist revolution" on this year's bingo card, but you never turn down a good time. wc: 15.4k

episode ii: the professor — released 12/3/23.

pairing: recon!hyunjin x defector!reader au: secret relationship summary: until now, hyunjin's never met a problem that subterfuge and violence couldn't solve. wc: 10.6k

episode iii: spider — released 3/9/24.

pairing: combat leader!minho x hacker!reader au: fuck buddies to lovers summary: somebody has to make sure you make it through the firefight alive. wc: 23.5k

episode iv: doc — release date tbd.

pairing: leader!chan x medic!reader au: established relationship, hurt/comfort summary: when the world ends, who's going to hold your hand?

[hahaonlyjoking]

musings on growth

i should really be more consistent when it comes to documenting my thoughts on myself because there are both a number of things that have changed and those that have not at all. since i wrote my last post i started a full time job at an animal shelter, and felt i was getting better! great! there were a few things that came before that such as breaking down sobbing to my therapist after accidentally accepting the job before i meant to and then being perpetually anxious for the first 6 months bc my co-worker definitely did not like me. but! i settled in, found a rhythm, made it work, became happy! decided to go back to school bc i felt i was in that such a good place now that i could do it! quit my job, went back to school. forgot to mention, global pandemic that started about 6 months before my first lecture, got really into baking. made macarons!

first semester i took world politics and photoshop. loved one hated the other. guess which? i loved photoshop so much i decided that my major should be graphic design, and signed up for three classes the next semester! wow! doing so well! second semester and i stopped doing assignments for art history bc it was 1000 words a week and i simply could not make myself do it. the urgency was not compelling enough. but now i was self-aware about my executive dysfunction instead of me literally almost self-harming screaming whyyyyyy. so growth? hmmmm. finished the other 2 classes! woooo! should be a-ok to sign up for 2 for third semester! half-way into third semester the executive dysfunction picks up and i’m not completing work for either class and send a half-assed sorry! gotta drop the classes! to the professor and then ghost. lol. around the same time i stopped going to therapy. they were video calls at this point (still in a global pandemic) and i ghosted there too. my lack of accountability is really going to catch up with me at some point.

anyway, here i am, over two years later and no more credits done since then. lying to pretty much everyone around me that i’m still in school, still working on a degree, still taking meds, still in therapy, still seeing a psychiatrist. i feel as though my understanding of myself has increased leaps and bounds but that’s not something i can really use to help me change my behavior, just analyze it. and saying feel there is particularly noticeable. meaning that is not necessarily true ahahaaaaaaaa. regardless, first step is getting back on meds. i’m exercising now (growth! working w my trauma!), and my hypothesis is that plus the wellbutrin i think i can get back to arf mood. healthcare is currently taken care of *wipes brow* luckily, bc that was part of the reason i stopped getting meds/going to the psychiatrist. i couldn’t make myself deal with health insurance and i couldn’t explain that to my therapist. i do feel like she could’ve reached out more than twice after she stopped hearing from me though. it’s fine, whatever.

so if i was going to make a goal for this summer it would be getting back on meds and signing up for classes again.

but that should wait actually because for over a year my eyes have been deteriorating and part of the reason i haven’t gotten them checked out is health insurance related. so i webmd diagnosed myself with macular degeneration as a symptom of diabetes, went on a keto/low carb diet and lost a significant amount of weight (we’ll get back to that). since insurance’s figured out, probably, and i got an A1C blood test back saying everything was normal it was hard to keep up with the diabetes idea, but i am bc my eyes are still fucked. so that first. i gotta take care of myself bc i’m not a ghost anymore. i am not in a liminal state of being. i am a person who affects the lives of others. i will die, but before that i need to live.

back to the weight thing though, i don’t think i realized how bad my image of myself was until i lost this weight. i think i really hated myself but decided instead of doing that actively i’d just not care about it. a coping mechanism, but it’s created a problem for me now that i’ve lost this weight i don’t want to gain it back. i’ve noticed this thought and have been working to combat it. i think i was affected in a different but similar way to kenna. i was not fat in high school but i became so in about 1-2 years afterwards. it went hand-in-hand with my depression so i think i’ve conflated the two. it also doesn’t help that i continue to get outside positive reinforcement about it. people will say “looking good” and i want to shoot them and then myself. because it’s nice to get compliments but DON’T COMMENT ON PEOPLE’S BODIES!!!!!! an aside, it’s 2023, i shouldn’t have to say that to people my age. so, i’ve been struggling with self-image quite a bit more than i can remember ever doing before.

growth? we shall see.

[yesimwriting]

The Promise of Rain

A/n finally writing that Kaz Brekker x reader angsty-fluff where the reader is all sunshine-y and Kaz is dramatic as always lol 

Might make this a blurb series bc i like this dynamic so much lol

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y reader 

Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Kaz has a conversation with the reader (who’s a runaway princess) about what happens to people who stay near him. 

-- 

He once said that he didn’t believe in Saints. A moment later he conceded that perhaps they existed in order to appease Inej, but he was quick to tact on that if Saints existed they didn’t care about him. Inej and I had exchanged a look, she pleaded with me in silence to let him be. I opened my mouth despite the look in her eyes, but he had walked away before I could get any words out. 

He believes that the Saints don’t care about him, but as soon as he was dragged in by Jesper, bleeding and more broken than usual, it had started to rain. The rain is a promise. The rain is a sign that he will wake up. 

I tap a finger against the forgotten book on my lap, ignoring the dried blood I’ve been too anxious to wash off. When Kaz wakes up he’ll either scold me or partially tease me for waiting here by his bedside. The rain continues, cascading down invisible hope. 

“Save your prayers, even for you the Saints won’t regard me.” Kaz. His voice is raspier than it should be and his slight condescension is blighted by the tired flatness of it. But it’s him. He’s speaking. 

I tear my gaze away from the window, almost forgetting to tamper down my relief before finally looking at him. I haven’t known him long enough to see him in any level of defeat, but I’ve heard enough stories. The fictional exaggeration of those that fear him have made him seem so immortal. Some part of me must have internalized that because to see him like this, to see him so human is too intimate. 

“Don’t be so narcissistic.” Something about Kaz always leaves me feeling challenged, like each comment is some kind of dare. I adjust my posture. “I wasn’t praying because I knew you’d be okay.” 

His expression is unchanging. “So much faith in me?” 

There’s a soft edge to his words, an attempt to twist some kind of awkward denial out of me. Some days I don’t think Kaz enjoys anything and then other days I think he enjoys any misstep in my words. 

I shrug, pushing down the flood of relief still attempting to crawl out of my chest. “You’re always okay.” I scratch the back of my wrist idly. “It seems the safe bet.” 

“Don’t tell me you’ve been taking gambling advice from Jesper.” 

I half roll my eyes. “No--Jesper and I don’t play together anymore.” I let out an easy sigh. “Last time I beat him he bordered on a hissy fit.” There’s the slightest hint of upturning at the corners of his lips. “I should go tell Jesper and Inej you’re awake.” 

“I think you should change out of that dress first.”

He was more likable when I thought he might die at any second. “Wow--Kaz Brekker the professional stylist.” He has no right to judge the formal gown I’m in. Yes, my outfit is ridiculous, but I’m only wearing it because the Crows needed someone they knew at a merchant’s party for a part of some scheme they wouldn’t share the details of with me. “Yes, I’m aware that this dress is more tulle than anything else, but I’m only wearing it because I was helping you.” 

I wait for some retort about how he could have managed without my assistance or some kind of comment about how I didn’t need such a large dress to flirt and distract the guards as the Crows snuck into the merchant’s private office. “You fit in there more than you said you would.” 

From anyone else, I’d consider this an insult. “I was making an effort for the sake of your plans.” 

“I saw you before I went into the office, you knew the dances, the man took your hand.” 

That’s the weirdest observation I’ve ever witnessed someone reflect on. “That’s how those dances tend to work.” I don’t hide the confusion in my expression. “How much blood did you lose?” 

Kaz’s piercing gaze drops to the blanket on his lap. “Not a concerning amount.”

“Why do I feel like we have different definitions of ��concerning’?” 

His eyes flit upwards, a partial smirk playing at his lips. “We define a lot of things differently.” He pauses, “You defined the life you slipped into so easily tonight as something you could never do.” 

“I can’t.” What is his problem? “One dance is different than an eternity of planning teas and marrying some man who only keeps me so I can rear his children.” 

“You’d end up marrying someone who could give you things.”

He better not be implying I should be having children. I’m seriously starting to hope he did lose a significant amount of blood because that would be some kind of explanation. “I don’t want anyone to be giving me children right now, but I guess your concern is ni--”

“No, no,” he screws his eyes shut for a long second, “You know what I meant.” I stay silent. “You’re technically a princess, y/n, you could have more than the Barrel.” There’s an odd silence as he pauses. “Someone like you should have more than the Barrel.” 

He speaks like his word is law. That’s the one habit of his I can never seem to forgive. Is Kaz telling me to go home? To go back to a mother who dreams of marrying me off and a father with a temper that often leads to violence? He may be Dirtyhands, but he is no one to tell me who to go back to. Not after I risked my anonymity to get him into that merchant’s office. 

I shut my book and stand in one swift motion. “I’m going to tell Jesper and Inej that you’re awake.”

“Y/n.” I ignore him. “Y/n.” Again, I ignore him, approaching the doorway. The rustling of sheets leaves me frozen, hand on the doorknob. “Y/n.” 

Without thinking, I turn on my heels while glaring. There’s no way he’s proud enough to have climbed out of bed wi--and he’s standing. Standing almost directly behind me. 

“Kaz Brekker, I am going to say this one time and one time only.” I keep my words measured and my tone flat. No room for argument. “You just had nine stitches put in near your heart, get your ass back in bed before that is no longer your only injury.” 

He pauses, lips pressed together into a tight white line. And then his mouth opens, pried open by an oddly light sound. Did he just--Did Kaz Brekker just laugh? He doesn’t laugh. I didn’t think he was physically capable, and now he laughs while I’m threatening him? I should hit him on principle alone and damn the consequences. 

“Did you--” I’m gaping at him with a rage I am not accustomed to. “Did you just laugh?” 

Kaz is quick to shut his mouth. “You did swear you’d get me to laugh one day.” 

Saints--now he chooses to have some kind of sense of humor. “Not while I was threatening you for being an idiot after saying my lineage means that I’m meant to be trapped in the life I desire least.” 

“I didn’t say that.” I raise an eyebrow. “You don’t deserve more than this because of your family, you deserve more than this because--” He cuts himself off with a sharp sigh. “Do you remember what happened the day we met?” 

He had wanted to return me to my father for the money. I had managed to convince him I could be more useful working for him without profit. The first day had been tense, I had sworn to myself that I would hate him forever. 

“I remember really hating you.” I remember thinking him beautiful despite his darkness. “I remember it started raining on our way here.” 

“You had a hood, but you pushed it off your head to feel the rain.” I don’t remember that because indulging in the rain is instinctual to me. “You looked at the rain, and you smiled--and then you saw a woman with a child and you took off your hood and gave it to them.” 

“What does that have to d--” 

“Watching that felt like intruding on an intimate moment I had no business knowing about, but it wasn’t that to you. That moment was nothing to you because that moment was who you are.” 

I don’t understand what he sees in something I can barely remember. “Kaz, what does that have to do with anything?” 

“I’m the monster that children believe live under their beds, I’m the bastard of the Barrel, I’m someone who gets blood on everything near them.” His gaze is harsher than I’ve ever seen it as he focuses on the dried blood splotched across my hands and arms. “And then I can’t even help you wash it off.” 

Those last words are the closest to broken I’ve ever heard him sound. “Kaz--”

“And you’re the girl who looks at the rain like it’s a gift from the Saints.” 

Is he implying what I think he’s implying? Even if I believed him such a source of evil, even if I felt like touch mattered that much--why would he care? I keep the much more frightening implication at bay as I exhale. Clarity will only make this conversation worse. “That doesn’t matter.” The words leave me in a low whisper. 

I stare at the ground until his silence is something I can no longer bear. Looking up as cautiously as possible, I take in his expression. I’ve never seen him look so--so enraged. “It doesn’t matter?!” He doesn’t bother hiding the fact that he’s practically seething. “I’ve viewed your presence here as temporary since you first came and despite that, when I saw you there…” The breath he lets out is practically pained. “When I saw what your life is meant to be--I didn’t want you to go.” 

The admission breaks something hard in my chest. “I never wanted to go.” My eyeline drops to the ground. “I didn’t want to go when you were trying to make me, I didn’t want to go when it was only for that evening.” I swallow a lump of emotion restricting my throat. “When you were bleeding out and Jesper had to carry you back here I let myself imagine what it’d be like if you died. And it hurt. It hurt so badly I asked myself if I would rather never know you than feel that pain.” 

“Would you?” His voice has gone hollow. 

I finally look up again. “No.” That word leaves me more bare than any physical touch ever could. 

“I stain everything that stays with me,” his voice has seamlessly shifted back to a tone meant for business, “Me wanting you to stay is more than enough reason for you to leave.”

My chest aches as emotions I’ll never be able to place a name to pound against my chest. “I’m a princess that ran away from her family and tried to befriend her kidnapper--you can’t possibly be narcissistic enough to believe that you’re what’s corrupted me.” 

“Y/n,” his voice is gravely again, the way it was when he first woke up. 

“No. What could you possibly think I’d say to that?” He’s insane--I’m not even sure I understand what he’s implying. “You know I’ll never agree with what you’re saying, so I have no idea what kind of reaction you’re looking for.”

“Maybe a genuine one.” 

The comment is so frustrating I can’t help but roll my eyes. The irony of Kaz Brekker asking for a genuine reaction to an emotionally heavy comment is almost laughable. “My genuine reaction is that you’re acting like an idiot because I don’t agree with anything you’re saying, but calling someone an idiot after they’ve been stabbed in the chest is a little insensitive so I can’t give you my genuine reaction.”

Kaz half-scoffs, “You don’t agree? Y/n--are you hearing me!? I want--I want you to stay.” Even angry, the admission warms me. He lets out a frustrated sigh. “More than that I want--” 

“What?” 

He shakes his head once. “I want something that can never be because I can’t give what needs to be given to get it.” 

“Kaz, if it involves me staying you don’t need to give anything for that because I don’t want to go.” 

“I-want-you-to-stay-with-me.” The admission is pried from him by some invisible force. He speaks so fiercely the sentence comes out as one angry word. 

He speaks so quickly a part of me is convinced that I misheard him. I watch him as he moves back to the bed, sitting down in a way so resigned I wonder if I blurted something out on instinct. 

“Kaz,” this is embarrassing, “I wanted to stay with you even when I wanted to hate you.”

I take in his measured expression, the only thing implying any kind of reaction is the way his eyebrows draw together. “Don’t say that, you don’t understand what that means.” 

“Why? Because you’re convinced you’ll ruin me?” 

“Y/n, we’d be together with a wall between us, keeping us from ever touching.” 

“I will tolerate any amount of damage you’re so convinced staying with you will bring, I will stay with you and never touch you and think nothing of it--but I will not stay with you just to stand in front of a wall.” I let out a tired breath. “I will stay with you but my one condition will be that you have to let me know you.” 

Kaz’s intense gaze wavers. “The first thing you’ll know is that me allowing you to stay is a testament to my greed.” 

I give him a sharp look, “It’s not greed if I want to be here.” 

He half sighs, leaning against a pillow as he turns to look out the window. “It’s raining,” he muses, “The Saints must have done that for you.” 

The sentiment is so soft my heart feels like it’s constricting. “I thought you didn’t believe in the Saints.” 

“If they exist, they do so for people like you.” 

I push past the emotion in my chest as I move to sit in the same chair I was in earlier. “I was honest when I said I didn’t pray for you.” I scratch the back of my arm, a coldness passing over me. “I didn’t pray because I knew you would be okay because you had to be.” 

“They wouldn’t have saved me,” he mumbles, “Or maybe they would have for you.” 

I shake my head once, staring at the rain with more fascination than before. 

--

General Taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship

[modmad]

wow so that story about the photography/rights was so scary- I'm glad it all worked out, do you have any other pearls of wisdom won the hard way? I'm young but so scared of the world and I want to learn all I can ahead of time ;;

Okay so I’m putting this under a cut bc it will be lengthy, it was also stressful as heck so while I’ll write it lightheartedly do know that I’m talking about something that has caused me ludicrous levels of anxiety when and ever since it happened, though with that came a great worldly wisdom. In summary this is the tale of-

Trust your gut. Pay up front. Do not work with crazy.

I will make this vague so as to protect the identity of the person, but if you guess or figure it out I do not want you to go after them for several reasons: one being that perhaps they have changed, but the honest fact is I am afraid of ever being linked to them again and any resurgence of this event could cause that.

Now to the part where I try to make this all sound sort of funny.

Long story short(er) I needed someone to make music for a project- I’d collaborated before with people I knew, but was running out of time, so connected with a new person through my place of study. At first it seemed fine! They were good at piano, knew what I was looking for, and other than a slightly odd way of writing in their emails all seemed well. I asked what the price would be: it sounded reasonable, and I offered to pay upfront or at least pay half in advance.

This is where the bridge began to crumble, kids. They refused. They wanted the whole payment after they’d made the music.

Now this might sound okay to some of you- great! More time to get the money together, right? But I had the money, I wanted to pay and do it right, 'have it over with', so to say. I always take payment in advance to protect myself when I’m doing commissions for people, so this was odd to me. Thinking it might be modesty I offered twice and they refused again, and not wanting to insult them I conceded.

Fool’s errand. You see, taking payment in advance is a protection for the artist, yes- but it is also protection for the buyer. But I did not know this, at the time...

Fast forward to the end: the project is done, music is great, when and how can I pay you? I ask. In person in cash on the night of *insert large important event that you are going to as well*, they say. Oh, sure! I said. I didn’t say that made me feel uncomfortable, which it did, because I didn’t want to have to take out a large cash sum and be carrying it around with me. Still, perhaps they had reasons, and the work was done so I agreed.

What I hadn’t anticipated, and could not have anticipated, was what happened next: I forgot to take the money with me.

Now before you think the worst: to give you some context (which you only have my word to believe but those who know me and have worked with me professionally I am certain can attest to)- I have never been in debt. I have never missed payments. I have never even been overdrawn with my bank account. This is not because I am the superior being, so organised or wealthy that such things are impossible! No, it’s because I am a tiny frightened little beast who can think of nothing more ghastly and terrifying than being in debt. I hate the idea of borrowing money so much that I have not even taken out a loan even during the direst times, and have literally arm wrestled my friends to pay for their lunch rather than the other way around.

You must also understand that I, small and anxious beastie that I am, have a brain that has a very limited capacity, and this event was huge for me- so important that it was the climax of the year, something I had been looking forwards to for months. I was so occupied trying not to forget myself, that I simply forgot the money: which I had! In my wallet, back home, in the wallet I forgot.

Comes the meeting: where’s the money? Oh shit, says I.

Giddy and embarrassed and trying not to fall behind the group that is moving on to the after party, a once in a lifetime event I could not afford to miss, I hope that this can be understood: Can I pay you tomorrow? I ask. I get a shade of kill bill sirens from the look they give me, but nothing further as I cannot be delayed any further. We depart, I move on, and experience one of the happiest nights of my life with people that I love.

I return to my flat and, possibly the biggest mistake yet? Check my emails before turning in to bed.

Lo: they have sent me the most angry, offensive email I have ever received, accusing me of duping them and threatening law action if I do not pay immediately. Remember what I said about paying in advance also protecting the payer? Yeah.

My anxiety gives way to outrage. I am insulted and sad and angry, and the worst of it is that even now I cannot remember the events of that happiest night with any clarity, because the party and the preceding event are so mired and blocked by the enormity of the mortification that single email caused me. I am with someone at the time, fortunately, so I have someone to grief with, though I rage and strike my desk so hard that I hurt my right wrist. So badly, in fact, that it has never fully recovered (at the time I had no idea of my pre-existing condition). In that moment I am so past any level of indignation I have ever felt before that it is an hour before I feel any pain. Meanwhile, said friend replies to the email as calmly as they can (surely a blessing, I cannot fathom having replied myself), and a payment is made via paypal within the hour: something which I offered to do on day one, right from the first conversation.

Is there a happy ending? No. Not really. That piece of work is forever poisoned for me, and other people who enjoy it can never know how much I wish it had another soundtrack. The memories of the event and evening are, as I said, inextricable from the trauma of that person’s email- something a therapist had to explain to me in later years- and all of it could have been avoided if I had paid when I wanted to, and offered to, back in the beginning.

The only commiseration I have is that perhaps people who read this Aesop's tale will be more willing than I was to listen to the little voice that chimes when talking to prospective partners. If you get a twinge of doubt- listen to it, what is it? Talk to it. What does it feel like? Where in your body? Find a word to describe it. Have you felt it before, and been right about something? Our bodies are finely tuned survival machines, and while we don’t always understand how or why, they often pick up on danger signals early in the game. Society and ‘politeness’ sometimes compels us to ignore them, and I have found time and time again that it is foolish to do so. I make the same mistakes even now, but much less often, and maybe you will make them even less often than me.

Don’t ignore your gut instincts, and remember to pay and take payments in advance if you can. Even in the worst case of 'if you pay and the person doesn’t produce the work on time', that puts you in the right: you have evidence, you did the right thing, and you are protected.

Take care of yourself folks, and if you get a ‘this person might be crazy’ vibe? Back away. Just back away.

[euphoricsunflowers]

calling you daddy — monsta x

scenario: they ask about your kinks and you ask them to call you daddy

a/n: this is written with a fem reader in mind but is not strictly fem reader as no pronouns or anything is mentioned.

a/n: was this a request? nope tbh this was written for myself bc i’m sick and tired of seeing people call these men daddy so uh pls enjoy

word count: 2k

content: sub!monsta x, dom!reader, daddy kink obviously ajshdhs, minhyuk is kinda bratty? kinda??, lots of teasing and begging, mentions of consent and stuff

—

son hyunwoo/shownu:

he falls silent. he doesn’t know what to say in the slightest. he worries that he might hurt your feelings or say something out of line, but it just stuns him, “you don’t have to do it if you’re uncomfortable with that, bear. your consent is just as important,” you say.

but see that’s half of what’s stunning him. he’s not exactly uncomfortable with that. shownu’s nature is pleasing you, he doesn’t mind filling any role or position for you, this was just a little more intense than that.

“you know what? just forget we had this conversation. i don’t want you to feel pressured, and it’s not a big deal, okay?” you say.

but the idea lingers in his head whether or not you want it to. as the days go by, his mind wanders, and while it may not exactly be what he’d be into, he’s not against doing it for you.

as you manhandle him a little bit, he says it softly, “ah, daddy-,” it’s even more embarrassing than he imagined, and his cheeks and ears are flushed and hot, but when he says it, softly under his breath, just whispering it out to test the waters, he sees your shock and then your small little smirk.

“now that i know what it sounds like to hear you say that, and what that does to me,” you say, sneaking your hands under his shirt and letting them wander, playing with his chest a bit, “i don’t think it’s a good idea to say that if you wanna make it out of this bedroom spotless and in one piece.”

he blushes even more, a little shy and hesitant, but he likes having this kind of effect on you, so that may not be the last time he says it. besides, who says he cares if he makes it out in one piece? and spotless? his neck and chest and thighs were too clean anyway.

lee hoseok/wonho:

it was in the middle of you riding him, his wrists bound above his head with a rope that made his skin look so pretty against it. he’s already cum once, but you’re not stopping until you do, and he’s trying to keep himself together. your hands roughly playing with his chest is overstimulating and he’s overwhelmed. he pleads for mercy aimlessly, almost thoughtlessly.

but then, “if you’re gonna beg, call me daddy,” you murmur. he’s not even sure he hears you right when you say it. he looks at you with wide eyes, and he assumed he did because of the way you act. he knows he could stop you at any time because you’re very clear on consent and it’s not like this was completely out of left field considering how you’re already always in charge in the bedroom. he was just stunned.

and while he’s a little bit stunned, he also won’t deny that it is a little bit hot.

so he does, “please, daddy, it’s so much- i- i can’t handle it.”

he sees your smile, with just a drop of sadism behind the curl of your lip, “just a little more, baby, i’m close. you make daddy feel so good,” he gets so excited by the praise that he attempts to stick it out, forever still the man that just wants to make you happy and please you.

he forgets about himself and his own body for a moment when he feels your body tense up around him and you hold onto his chest as you orgasm, using him to get the most out of it before you slow down to a halt.

your heavy breathes and sweet nothings whispered in his ear are heavenly.

lee minhyuk:

“really? you’re into that? i honestly thought it would be the other way around.”

taken aback, you ask, “really? what gave you that impression?”

“idk, you don’t have this aura of dominance, so i didn’t really assume that was your thing.”

“is that- is that okay with you?”

he gets closer, teasing in the way he wants to make you shy, “you seem pretty bashful for someone who just asked to be called daddy in the bedroom.”

“minhyuk-,”

he rolls his eyes, obviously trying to get a rise out of you, “come on, i don’t even know if you have it in you.”

and something about his careless, taunting tone sets something off inside you, like he was challenging you. but it’s a challenge you take on when you approach him. your touch is softer, lighter than he imagined. he thought you would be lit aflame with a need to prove yourself to him. but you lean in to press a kiss on his neck and your wandering hands settle on his hips.

you’re gentle with him initially, yet he melts a little bit when one hand tightens and another begins to unbutton his shirt, giving your mouth access to his chest.

you push him onto the couch, straddling him and using a hand to hold both of his arms above his head, when you pull back, he looks dazed and needy, all those teasing smirks having faded off his features, “why are you so affected? i thought i didn’t even have it in me,” you say with a smirk this time.

he breathes heavily, “y/n- please-”

“oh please, that’s not my name anymore, min.”

yoo kihyun:

“you want me to what?!” his voice is randomly high pitched, loud, almost like he’s nervous or scared.

despite that anxious feeling you’re feeling too, you try to stay calm, “i understand if you’re uncomfortable by it, but you asked about my kinks, kihyun.”

“yeah i know- i just- i wasn’t expecting that- really? you’re not messing with me? that’s really what you want?” he looks exasperated.

“yes. i really want you to call me daddy.”

he goes silent, trying to comprehend in his head what the hell was going on and what he was going to do and why the more he thinks about it, the less vehemently against it he becomes. and he had spent the entire relationship making it clear that he cared about what you wanted (because he does) and it’s not like… he hates the idea of it, but it’s just so out there to him that he can’t even fathom or imagine it.

he asks for a few days just to think about it, and though the awkwardness lingers in the air, by the fourth day, it seems like you had mostly forgotten about it or at least it didn’t seem to be on your mind. he spends those days really thinking, trying to imagine what it would be like, why you would even want that.

but the next time you’re together alone, your hands and lips are on him and he experimentally says it, “daddy, please.”

the whiny, begging voice, coupled with the word, leave you stunned. you pull back with wide eyes, and he felt so embarrassed and shameful with your eyes on him like that, but then you pulled him back into you and kissed him with a certain kind of feverish desperation that made his knees weak.

chae hyungwon:

his reaction is oddly pretty calm. he asked about what you were into, and you told him. maybe he was expect something a little different, but to be honest, he knew you liked to be in control, and he usually just went along with it. he didn’t mind it especially because you always made sure you both felt good and that was all that matters. that and he kinda likes being told what to do.

so it doesn’t exactly surprise him, especially when you add, “but only in a sexual context! i don’t need you to say it all the time.”

“good because there’s no way in hell i’m calling you daddy in front of my friends,” he can see the thoughts behind your eyes wanting to take up that challenge, but he decides to ignore it, “as far as they’re concerned, i’m daddy.”

“sure, wonnie. sure,” you say dismissively, before looking back at him, “are you actually okay with it though? i know it’s… weird.”

“it wasn’t what i was expecting, but if that’s what you want, then i’ll do it.”

and as soon as you’ve got him under you, with kisses and marks trailing down his neck and chest, leaving him helplessly turned on and horny, he says it so naturally, you wonder if he even thought to do it. but whether or not he’s doing this solely for you, or because he might have found it a little hot, is between him and himself, “ahh, daddy, please- be gentle with me- i have a photoshoot in the morning- oh my god that feels so good please daddy don’t stop-”

lee jooheon:

he likes the idea of it when you mention it, he just gets kinda shy, “do you- do you really want me to call you that?”

you come closer, holding his hand and rubbing your thumb against it in a comforting manner, “yeah, i really like the idea of it. if you’re not completely against it, i’d be really happy if we could try it.”

“it’s not… the worst thing you could have told me you were into,” he laughs as your hand starts to massage his thigh instead, “we can try it. i'll tell you if we need to stop, but i think it’ll be okay.”

“good, i’m glad you’re reacting this way, honey,” you murmur as you kiss him, and he smiles, which, even if it makes the kiss a little awkward, is really cute, “sweetheart,” you whisper as you pull away, “can you say it? i just wanna hear you say it.”

your hands wander his skin nervously, he can tell you’re worried about him being uncomfortable, “ahh, d-daddy, please touch me more,” he whines, and he’s never been more compelling before, but somehow the use of that word really makes you want to give in and give him anything he wants, “please touch me.”

your hand falls a little lower upon his request, and he groans lightly, pulling you a little closer, “you’re perfect, baby, so pretty.”

“ahh, please,” he huffs, clearly growing shy with the praise, but it’s obvious he really likes it, so you touch him more and whisper sweet words into his ear with a kiss, “oh- oh my- daddy- please i-”

“you’re so cute, sweetie pie, especially when you’re feeling good, you look so pretty and content. it’s my favorite sight,” you say adoringly, looking at him with the biggest heart eyes.

“wow, i didn’t expect to like this this much but-“ he whispers, “-i kinda love it.”

im changkyun/i.m:

he doesn’t react much when you say it, making you wonder if he was uncomfortable or not into it, but in any case, you assume it’s going to be forgotten in a few days and there would be nothing to worry about.

until he’s trying to get you to play with him and you’re trying to work. he can’t deny that he gets horny easily and you’re right there! he tries to tease in an way he can think possible, but to no avail. you’re still just sitting there, typing away on your laptop.

“just another thirty minutes, and then im all yours, baby,” you murmur to him, and he pouts subconsciously out of frustration.

he gets an idea, and i’m sure you know what it is.

“alright, you’re busy and i respect that. i guess i’ll just leave you be and go play by myself, daddy,” he giggles when you look over at him for the first time in this encounter and then he walks away.

as he sits on the bed in your bedroom, he awaits the sound of your footsteps, knowing he’s won. the door opens, and you walk in too casually, enough to make him suspicious, until he’s pulled onto your lap with your lips on his shoulder. your hands sneak under his hoodie, and his hands brace himself on your shoulders for stability, “ah- y/n-”

“baby, i did not set aside my work that’s due tomorrow morning to come fuck your brains out just for you to call me that,” he shivers, so incredibly turned on, “try again.”

—

taglist: @lovingonrepeat @neosincity @sub-hoshi-enthusiast @multidreams-and-desires @hobilluvvr @vanillaknj @yr-domxfantasies @treasure-hwa @fleurshopsub @rubyscloud9 @silencefavarchive @nct99 @bigkpopstan @monstaxdirtywonk @domreaderrecs @mochi-ficz and always feel free to ask to be added to/removed from the taglist <3

[seiyasabi]

A Shifter’s Dream

(This is a Yandere Bunny-Shifter N’Doul x Female Reader story :P Plz proceed w caution 

TW: !Noncon!, breeding kink!, hella cum!, he holds you down onto the mattress!, kinda sus bc u just turned 18, he deadass bites you, !pees on u in rabbit form, mounting!, mentions of euthanization of animals at the beginning!, etc..)

“-Mama, Mama!” Your voice echoes throughout the kitchen, as you hurry inside, hands clutching something protectively. Your mother turns, startled by your sudden appearance and anxious sounding voice. 

“What’s wrong? Did something happen? Did those neighbourhood boys bully you again?” Ever the mother hen, she frets over you, grabbing you gently by the shoulders and taking a good look at you. 

Shaking your head, you lift your hands, showing the older woman a taupe coloured rabbit, “Look! Mrs. Ruitz next door is selling bunnies! She says this one is blind, so she hasn’t sold it, so she said she’d give him to me if you say yes! Please, please, please say yes! She said she’d put him down if he wasn’t sold,” Tears bead your eyes as you practically beg your mother, who doesn’t seem to have the heart to tell you ‘no’ at that moment. 

She sighs, weighing her options. You’re already ten, so you should be able to take care of him with minimal effort on her part… 

“I suppose that’s alright. You just have to promise me that you’ll take care of him!” You instantly perk up, a bright smile on your face. 

“I promise! I promise!” You hold the bun closer to your chest, practically rocking it in the process, “Thank you, Mama!” 

The older woman smiles once more, patting you goodnaturedly on the back, “Good. Now, let’s go talk to Mrs. Ruitz- we have no idea how to take care of it.” 

Walking across the street, your mother and your neighbour talk about your bunny’s proper care. It turns out, your bun is a male, who is previously named N’Doul. Not wanting to confuse the bunny, you decided to keep his unusual name, chattering away happily to him as you sat in the grass, barely listening to his care requirements. 

The bun listens intently to what you’re saying, relishing your gentle hold around him. 

He must be lucky, he thinks, to have found someone as lovely as you for a mate. 

-

Eight years later, and you and your bun are still going strong. You’d recently moved into your own apartment, trying out adult life as you start college. 

Today is your birthday, officially making you an adult. 

The day was filled with festivities: your mom made you your favourite breakfast in bed (scaring you half to death- apparently she has a copy of your apartment key), your friends took you out shopping, and your mom took you to a birthday dinner. All in all, it was a great day! 

But, a certain bun was seemingly more excited than you were for your birthday, because he seemingly peed himself in excitement the moment you picked him up. Lightly scolding him, you set him down on his rabbit bed that you made him, “‘Doul, what the heck man!” You laugh a little, remembering back to when he was but a teeny kit, “You’re not a baby anymore, bubs, you can’t just pee on me!” The bun is surprisingly smart, allowing you to let him mosy around your house (now your own apartment that you saved up for for years). After he figures out the layout, he’s able to figure out where his pee pad is, along with his grass bed, actual bed, and food/drink area. He is also able to hear where you are, allowing him to cutely hop after you if you’re not already carrying him. 

Going to the bathroom to wash your hands, you hear his barely audible pawsteps behind you, “It’s okay, ‘Doul, I’m just gonna clean myself off, okay?” Flipping on your faucet, you get your hands nice and wet, before you pump some soap onto your hands, and start scrubbing, “Maybe I should shower now, since I’m already here…” You trail off when you feel you bun settle himself on your foot. 

Glancing down, you catch him just in time, as he starts to hump you. Gasping in surprise, you try to gently shake him off, but that seemingly just gets himself off faster, as you feel a foreign wetness against your skin, “What the fuck? Are you serious, N’Doul?!” Annoyed with the way he’s suddenly acting, once you finish washing your hands, you reach down, and scoop the bun up, “That’s not cool, bro. Because of that, you can wait in my room while I shower.” 

Plopping him in his bunny bed, you turn on your heel, and hurry back into the bathroom, closing the door before he can follow you inside. 

-

Stepping out of your shower, you wrap yourself securely with your plush towel. Not bothering to wipe off the steam from your mirror, you bust out of the bathroom, only to be greeted with your now empty room. The door leading to the hallway is wide open, and your bunny is nowhere to be seen. Completely stupefied, you have no idea how to respond. Did the bun hop up high enough to hit the handle? That should be impossible! A Holland Lop is big, but not that big! 

“N’Doul? Bun? Where on Earth did you go?” Deeming your bunny’s safety higher than you changing into clothing, you quickly move out of your room clad in only your towel. 

You go room by room, searching frantically for your beloved pet. He has to be here somewhere! 

So, when you finally make it to your living room/kitchen, you let out a yell of fear. There, on your couch, is a naked, bunny eared, buff man who’s humping into your previously used panties, “Who the hell are you! Get the fuck out of my house!” Reaching for the baseball bat in the hallway, you hold it up with one hand threateningly, the other currently holding your towel. 

A deep, rumbling laugh is heard from the mysterious man, who then tosses aside your soiled panties, “Don't be like that, Love. Your N’Doul only getting myself ready for you.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about? And what did you do with my bunny?” He chuckles, relishing your cute reaction. 

“I’m your bunny, (Your Name). I’m N’Doul.”

“The hell you are! Get out, before I bash your skull in!” He stands to his feet, completely towering over you. Gulping in fear, you move backwards, but then you notice his eyes. They’re the same milky white your bun has, “I-I’m warning you! Stay away from me, you creep!” 

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, showing how large his hands are compared to yours, “I’m not going to hurt you- I wouldn’t be a good mate if I did.” 

Without thinking, you chuck your baseball bat at his bunny-eared head, before turning and running to your room. You hear the metal bat make contact, along with a yelp of pain. Locking your door behind you, you search your room for your car keys. Not long after you dump out your purse in pursuit of your keys, you hear loud footsteps thumping towards you. 

A loud bang echoes throughout the room, as the man’s hit practically shakes the foundation of the wall, “Open the door, (Your Name)! Open it right now!” He sounds angry, and when you don’t respond fast enough, he starts trying to break down the door, his muscled body practically bending the thin wood with each body slam. 

Screaming in fear, you start to cry. Thick tears drip down your face, as you plead with him to stop, “I-I don’t want to! Get out of my house!” 

With one last mighty slam, the humanized N’Doul breaks into your bedroom. His nose is bleeding from the bat hitting him in the face, but other than that, he’s completely unscathed. Hearing you cry, he immediately goes to shush you, “Don’t cry, Love. Now that you’re considered an adult in your species, we can finally begin our life together.”

To his chagrin, you continue to sob, completely scared out of your mind, “No! Get out! Stop pretending to be my bunny, it’s weird!” He approaches you slowly, his much bigger form slightly bumping into a few pieces of furniture. This gives you enough time to make a break for it. 

You try to round his form, almost making it to what’s left of your bedroom door, only to be stopped by a meaty arm practically slamming you onto your bed. Trying to get up, you quickly realise that escape is impossible, as his muscular legs practically trap you against your mattress. He uses his weight to hold you down, as he bites into your neck, trying to make you submit. 

“Shh, stop resisting me, my Love. I promise that I’ll take care of you for the rest of our lives,” He continues to bite at you, as your screams are muffled into your sheets. 

His large hands rip your towel off of you, exposing your slightly wet body to his prying fingers. The rough pads of his fingers rub at your erect nipples and unprepared slit, trying to get you as wet as possible. 

“You’ll be a wonderful mother, I can tell you were made for this,” His cock head bumps against your tight entrance, forcing itself in as you scream. 

He starts a breakneck pace almost immediately, relishing how your walls massage him so sinfully- as if you were made for only him, his inexperienced fingers rub at your clit harshly, trying to make this as pleasurable for you as possible, 

Whilst this was happening, a bolt of pure pleasure shot up your spine, as he hit a certain gummy patch in your pussy, causing you to gush uncontrollably. Loud keens escape your gaping mouth, as his harsh ministrations are enough to almost make you cum immediately. 

“Fuck, your body accepts me so perfectly, Love. It’s like it knows I’m going to pump you full of kits,” He lightly slaps at your clit, causing you to seize up in orgasm, quickly throwing him over the edge as well. Hot, virile cum overflows your womb, his swimmers quickly inseminating you. But it’s not enough. N’Doul, moments after orgasm, bucks into you even harsher than before, wanting to push as much of his cum as possible inside of you, “My perfect mate, I love you so much! I knew you were the one for me from the first time I met you! Only the love of my life would accept me even with my blindness!” 

Still sensitive from before, the both of you hustle over the edge in mere moments, your release squirting all over the both of you. 

“We’re not stopping until I know that you're pregnant, my love. Our wonderful kits are such a good birthday present, no?”

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Acting Out

so this was inspired by the stream Tango did on 29/06/21. first of all, go watch it bc it’s one of the best streams i’ve ever seen. extremely entertaining. and this thing does contain spoilers for it.

but essentially my brain went “what if that stream… but angst?” and so this was born :)

…

Tango trudges all the way back to the boatem village, with nothing but unenchanted iron armour and a nearly broken iron sword. The whiplash of emotions he’s experienced tonight has all but drained his energy AND his inventory. Now, he has nothing left to lose.

Tango steps out of the portal and immediately heads for Impulse’s house. He digs through the chest that holds the random pieces of enchanted diamond armour that Impulse looted from the End and puts on a full set, not even bothering to check the enchantments. As he heads outside, he happens to glance over and spot an empty area that he knows used to hold something important. “Oh, wow, look at that. Nothing there.”

“Hi,” says Pearl cautiously, appearing from near her house. “Um… isn’t that Impulse’s armour?”

“Maybe.” Tango’s tone oozes with passive-aggression. “By the way, that’s a great area over there. A real great area. Nothing built there, not even lit up.”

Pearl follows his gaze and glances back at him, realising what he means. “Oh, uh…”

“Tango?” Impulse approaches them, glancing warily between the two. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for my stuff,” Tango replies. “Is that too much to ask? Are you boatem folk in the habit of murdering people and holding their stuff hostage forever?”

“I’ll remind you that not only were you the one to kill first, you were also the one to steal first,” retorts Pearl.

“I just wanted Scar’s hat. What’s the big deal?” Tango shoots Impulse a scowl. “Where did Timmy go?”

“What?”

“Timmy. The pig. Lived in an amethyst hut. Sound familiar?”

“Oh! Uh…” Impulse shoots a worried look at Pearl. “He’s… um… He’s fine. We… We just…”

“Just what?” Tango takes an aggressive step closer to Impulse, before shaking his head and turning away. “Oh nevermind, don’t worry about it. All fine.”

“Tango, you’re scaring me,” Impulse says slowly. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah! Yeah, all good!” Tango gives an exaggerated grin. “I’ve only died, what, five times in the last half hour? Lost all my gear twice, gained and lost an unspeakably important advantage, and now I’m back here and it turns out my best friend may have murdered my pig? That’s nothing. I feel nothing.”

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” says Pearl firmly. “We’ve all gone a bit too far tonight but it’s time for you to go home. I’ll drop your stuff off tomorrow.”

“What, giving up?” Tango says tauntingly. “We didn’t even get to fight properly today, Pearl.”

Pearl’s voice hardens. “That can be arranged.”

“Pearl-,” Impulse starts.

“I’m sorry, Impulse, but he’s barged in here uninvited twice tonight and now he’s waltzing around in YOUR armour. I can’t just let that slide.”

“Ah, I think I’m just gonna go.”

Tango starts to walk off but Pearl steps into his path, drawing the string back on her bow. “Tango, leave Impulse’s armour.”

“Oh, you want me to leave it? I’ll put it back right where it belongs.”

He moves close to the boatem hole and throws a couple of apples into it.

“Stop it! Just give the armour back.”

Tango just grins at her. “But I’m putting it back where it belongs.”

“I will push you in this hole,” Pearl threatens. “Is that what you want?”

“Go ahead,” Tango taunts. “Hit me in. It’s only Impulse’s stuff and a bunch of crappy iron gear. Do it.”

As Pearl hesitates, Tango lunges for the bow in her hand.

Then Impulse appears out of nowhere and barges into Tango, knocking him backwards into the hole.

Tango fell out of the world

He respawns back in the underground part of his base.

The first thought in his mind is I don’t think I’m getting my stuff back.

He gets up out of his bed and starts rifling through his chests. There’s not a lot of iron in there, and there’s even fewer diamonds. Maybe letting himself fall into the void with his backup iron gear on him was not a good idea.

His communicator buzzes.

<impulseSV> Are you at home now, Tango?

Tango rolls his eyes and decides not to reply.

Unfortunately, he’s so engrossed in his stewing emotions that he misses the telltale hissing sound until it’s too late.

Tango was blown up by creeper

When he wakes up, Tango finds himself not on his bed but on the cold grass floor, and he doesn’t have the energy to get up. He lies still, letting his emotions bleed out onto the grass.

That’s his seventh death in less than an hour. Essentially one death per ten minutes. He’s utterly exhausted, mentally and physically.

He doesn’t want to play this game anymore.

<PearlescentMoon> Tango, are you okay? Do you need help?

<impulseSV> Are you okay?

Tango ignores his communicator going off.

<impulseSV> Tango, please answer us. We’re worried about you.

<impulseSV> Okay, coming over.

After a while, Tango heaves himself to a sitting position and checks his communicator. Realising his friend is probably almost to his house, he gets to his feet and heads for the stairs, but it’s too late.

“Tango, are you okay?” comes Impulse’s voice from the doorway.

Tango pauses and gives a sigh. “I’m fine. I didn’t have anything on me to lose.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Impulse moves closer to him and places his hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been so weird tonight and I’m more than a little worried about you.”

Tango shoves Impulse’s hand away. “Leave me alone.”

“No.” Impulse takes hold of Tango’s shoulders and tries to hold him in place. “Tango-!”

Tango fights against his friend, trying to shove him away. “Get off me! I don’t wanna see you!”

“Talk to me, buddy!” Impulse begs. “Please!”

“Leave me alone!”

“But WHY?! Why do you suddenly hate me?!”

“I-!” Tango breaks off as tears threaten his vision. “I can’t be your enemy in another war, Impulse! I-I just can’t!”

Impulse freezes. “What…?”

Tango can’t help a sob. “It just feels like another war is brewing and we’re gonna end up on opposite sides AGAIN and I just can’t do it, Impulse! I can’t fight you again!”

“Tango…”

Impulse falls silent as he realises that this explains his best friend’s actions tonight. When something is seriously bothering Tango, he goes a little stir crazy and starts acting out. A similar thing happened in the early stages of season 6’s prank war and season 7’s turf war. Tango clearly senses that another conflict is about to arise, and it’s making him anxious.

“You don’t have to fight me,” he murmurs, holding his best friend close. “I won’t let it go that far, alright?

Tango buries his face in Impulse’s armour, trying to hold back tears. “I’m sorry… I was so stupid tonight…”

“No, it… it’s okay.”

“It’s… never been this bad before. My acting out. I just let myself go where my weird impulses took me and… I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. I’m so sorry you have to put up with me.”

Impulse rubs his best friend’s back soothingly. “It’s okay. But if it happens again, I need you to tell me, okay? If you ever feel like this again, talk to me. I can help you get through it and we can avoid another situation like earlier. I’m always here for you, man. You know that, right?”

Tango slowly nods. “Th-Thanks.”

“No problem.”

[dameronology]

home {poe dameron x reader}

summary: poe made a promise to always come home, and it’s one he’s determined to keep

warnings: swearing, mentions of injuries 

more hurt/comfort fluff?? i almost sent myself off to sleep writing this bc of the ending and bc i am shattered. anyhoo, enjoy!

- jazz

p.s i skimmed this, but it has not been properly proof read haha oops pls bare with me, i will do it in the morning 

It had only been five days. 

You’d been apart from Poe for far longer than that; sometimes weeks, sometimes months. It was just part of being in the Resistance, and something you both knew you had to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. You must have had some pretty foul luck to have met the love of your life during a time in which the galaxy insisted on keeping you apart - but one look at the pilot, and all that faded away. He always made it home to you, no matter what. He’d made that promise to you pretty early in the relationship, and you knew it to be true. You could never doubt Poe. 

The Blue Squadron was due back to base at midday; the mission had been pretty secretive, so the comms lines had been shut most the time. Even after begging Leia to let you man the singular one that connected you to Poe, she’d refused, knowing it would only make things worst. The General only ever spoke from experience, and she had plenty in waiting around for cocky pilots. Whilst Poe was arguably a little less reckless than Han, she knew that you would both act as a distraction to one another’s work. You were equally important to the Resistance, and she couldn’t have you moping about on a commslink for hours a day. The joke was on her for that one, because you still moped, even when you weren’t trying to reach your guy. 

 ‘What time is it?’ You asked Finn. 

‘11.56.’ He glanced over at you, eyebrows raised. ‘So the same time as when you asked thirty seconds ago.’ 

‘I’m just anxious.’ You grumbled. ‘I’ve been so lonely the last five days.’

‘You mean the last five days that you’ve spent with me?’

‘Hey, it’s nothing personal!’ You nudged him in the ribs. ‘You miss him too.’

‘I do.’ Finn nodded. ‘We really are just a pair of simps.’

‘Friends who simp together, stay together.’ You grinned. ‘And if me and Poe ever break up, you have first dibs.’

‘Same for you, if Rey and I ever break up-’

‘- that would require you getting together in the first place.’ You reminded him. Finn could only scowl in response. 

‘I’m trying!’ He held his hands up in defense. ‘It’s just complicated.’

‘Nothing’s complicat - they’re here!’ 

You leapt off the crate you’d been sat on, sprinting across the hangar to where a fleet of X-Wings were grouping. Jess came in first, followed by Snap, and then Kare. Poe’s jet was the last to come in, which was unusual for him. He almost always lead the squad - aside from the time he’d managed to blow an engine and had to call you out to tow him back (it’s how you’d met, actually). Bar a few new dents and scratches, his jet looked to be in decent condition, with BB-8 whirring away from where he was perched in the back. You took that to be a good sign, even if he’d been the last to get in. 

A crowd of mechanics reached the fleet before you, tools in hand and ready to repair whatever damage the First Order had thrown at them. You gave Jess a smile and a high five as you passed, but your line of sight was dead set on finding the curly-haired pilot. You had to elbow your way through the crowd, heartbeat picking up as you did. Man, you’d missed him. The last few weeks had been rough for you both and being constantly pulled apart only made it worst. All you wanted to do was to see him, to hug him and-

- You hit Poe with a thud, chests colliding. He immediately wrapped you up in his arms, pulling you tightly against his chest and burying his head against yours. He smelt faintly of jet fuel and smoke, which was fitting. 

His lips were on yours the minute he’d let you go, hands tightly gripping your cheeks as he kissed you with all his might. Yeah, he’d missed you too.

‘Hey, baby.’ You couldn’t help but smile, eyes finally meeting - it didn’t last long though, not when you saw the state of his face. ‘Oh my god. Your eye! And your lip! And-’

‘- I missed you.’ Poe brushed it aside, pressing another exhausted kiss to your lips.   

‘I missed you too.’ You softly sighed. ‘The fuck happened to your face, though?’

‘Just...First Order stuff.’ He bit his lip, brown eyes falling to the floor. 

You sighed. ‘Shit, Poe.’ 

‘I know. He gently nodded. ‘I’m okay though. I’m here with you. That’s the important thing.’

‘You’re right.’ You agreed. ‘C’mon, I’ll take you to medical-’

He cut you off with a groan. ‘Let’s just go back to my room. Please?’ 

‘But your face.’ You gently ghosted a thumb across his bruised cheek, flinching when he shuddered slightly. ‘I mean...I have a first aid kit. I can always take a crack at it.’

‘That sounds a lot nicer than those nurse droids.’ He smiled. 

‘But you have to promise to get checked over tomorrow, okay?’

‘I promise.’

Poe flung his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as you headed out the hangar. His own room was actually in the opposite direction, but he practically lived with you in yours. It always felt so much nicer. You’d managed to make it a lot homier, with photos of the two of you and fairy lights strung up. The scent of your perfume always lingered in the air and sleeping in your bed was the closest he could get to you when you were away on missions. In return, he left his jumpers and hoodies laying around for you to have free reign of. It was a weak form of paying rent, but he hadn’t heard any arguments. 

You could tell that Poe was tired from the way he walked. He usually had a swagger in his step, smiling at everyone who passed. Now, he was leaning on you for support, dark eyes staring dead ahead with exhaustion, his brain working at a thousand miles an hour to process what he’d witnessed over the last few days. You’d been on his mind the entire time.

‘Here we go.’ You gently lead him to the bed, helping him shrug off his charred flight suit. He caught your lips in a chaste kiss as you moved it off his shoulders, hands suddenly grabbing yours. 

‘You know I love you, right?’

‘Of course. I love you too.’ You murmured. ‘Is something up?’

Poe pulled you down onto the bed beside him, eyes finally meeting yours. ‘I just...I got captured on the mission. Very briefly, but still. It was scary, and there was a moment when I wasn’t sure I was gonna make it back.’

‘Poe.’ Your breath caught in your throat. ‘Is that why your face is all...’

‘Like this?’ He chuckled slightly. ‘Yeah. I’m sorry.’

‘Hey, don’t be.’ You squeezed his hands. ‘It’s not your fault, and like you said earlier, the important thing is that you here now.’

‘I know, but I promised you, didn’t I? That I’d always come home?’

‘And you did.’ You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. ‘Now c’mon, I gotta stitch you up before this scars.’

‘I reckon I’d look hot with a couple battle scars, y’know.’

‘You would, but I’d rather you not bleed out all over my sheets for the sake of vanity.’ You smiled. 

Digging out your first aid kit, you grabbed a few cotton swabs and some bacta spray. You weren’t a nurse, but your medical skills weren’t terrible either. After a few too many injuries and close calls out in the field, you’d learnt the basics. Half of the scars on Poe’s body had been from your handiwork after he’d been injured -- some of them were a little wonky, but he hadn’t died yet, so you figured you’d done a decent job. The ones he’d done for you were much neater but in your defense, he was reckless as fuck and had a ton more experience in dealing with injuries. 

On the bright side, Poe’s torso seemed fine and relatively uninjured. The white shirt he was wearing was only smeared with soot from the blaster fire, and his bare arms were broad and uninjured, save for one scrape on his left bicep. Okay, maybe the broad part wasn’t relevant to the context, but it was definitely relevant on the whole. He did have good arms. You only ever truly felt safe when they were wrapped around you.

‘This might sting a little bit.’ You crouched between his legs, pouring a little bit of bacta spray onto the cotton swab. You gently wiped it across his forehead, doing a double take when he let out a hiss of pain. ‘You okay, baby?’

‘Yeah, I’m good.’ Poe’s eyes met yours, and he gave you a half smile. ‘Better now that you’re here.’

It didn’t take too long to clean up the rest of his cuts and bruises; they were relatively minor given what he’d been through. The last time he’d been caught by the First Order on Jakku, he’d come home ten times worse than this. You’d spent days by his side in the medical room, mostly chiding him for how funny he looked in the bactasuit, but also to offer emotional support. The duality of love. 

You finished up by wrapping a bandage around the cut on his left arm, gently tying it in place with a safety pin. It was enough to keep it clean and safe until tomorrow, when you’d hopefully be able to convince him to see an actual nurse. You knew that for now, he was tired and probably just wanted to rest. His eyes were sunken with tiredness, and his body had become more and more slumped as you’d gone about cleaning him up. Poe never slept well on missions; a mixture of anxiety and your absence always made for a bad night’s sleep. 

‘That should keep you in one piece for now.’ You said, running a hand through his hair. Poe leant into your touch, pressing a kiss to your wrist. ‘You should get some sleep.’

‘Mmm.’ He murmured. ‘You’re staying, right?’

'Absolutely.’ You offered him a soft smile. ‘Gotta lose the boots though. These are clean sheets.’

‘Can you do it for me?’ He asked, flopping back against the mattress. 

You rolled your eyes at his...Poe-ness, before leaning down and unzipping his shoes, tossing them in a pile across the room. Yours joined them, followed by your jacket and the crumpled flight suit. That was something else to worry about tomorrow. For now, your main focus was him. 

Poe climbed under the covers, shuffling across to make room for you. He reached out to you as you joined him, naturally wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. The tiredness really hit him then, and you could feel his body untense as you pressed a kiss to his jaw. His body was warm against yours, which was a welcome contrast after sleeping alone for the last few nights. 

‘I love you.’ Poe murmured quietly. 

‘I love you too.’ You peered up at him with a smile. 

‘And I’ll always come home to you.’ He gave your shoulders a light squeeze. ‘You know that, right?’

‘I do.’

‘I’ll never break a promise to you.’

‘I know.’ You softly sighed, trying to move closer to him (as though it were even possible).

It was hard for him to fight the exhaustion now that he was laying with you -- after a few moments, his breathing became a little deeper, and his grip on you a little looser. You pressed one last kiss to his cheek, before settling back against his side and letting sleep over take you. 

[emeralddaydream]

𝙸𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝙸𝚜 𝙼𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝙾𝚏?

Kit x GN!Reader

Rating: General

Word Count: 2848

Warnings: None, just lots of fluff✨

Requested by Anon: Mayhaps prompt 84 (“No, Mom, don’t tell him/her I said that about him/her!”) with Kit Walker, but instead he's talking to Jude, Thomas, and Julia. Kit had been dating you for a while and he accidentally had let it slip that he loves you to his family (they all tease him about it constantly). You were planning on visiting later (so everyone could go to the park together or do some other adorable activity) and Kit just knows that someone is going to tell you, and he is trying desperately to avoid that

A/N: Okay, firstly, anon, thank you so much for your lovely message. I haven't been too kind to myself lately (workin' on it), so I really appreciate you being so understanding💜

I kind of went off the rails with this one, and it doesn't actually include the prompt sentence, and the prompt itself is a lil different, but same basic idea, I think... I really hope you like it!!

Also, Jude is healthy bc I refuse to make this angsty.

The title comes from 'I Think I Love You' by The Partridge Family, and on that note, I'm also dedicating this to one of my favorite humans. She's not really into AHS, but David Cassidy is her mans, so Sierra, this one's for you!! Thank you for always being a wonderful friend💜💕

“Jude, I need your help.”

In general, Kit Walker considers himself to be a pretty easy-going guy; usually, there isn't much that gets to him. But today’s different. There’s something that he’s simultaneously ecstatic about and dreading.

Today's the day you’ll be meeting his family for the first time.

“With?” Jude’s smirking amusedly where she sits across from him at the kitchen table sorting dish ware and arranging it carefully in the picnic basket in front of her. Kit glances at the clock on the wall and sighs; he's got just over an hour before he, Jude and the kids are supposed to meet you at the park, and he couldn’t be much more anxious about it if he tried... Not for nothing, though.

“I just wanna make sure today goes well.” He finishes wrapping the sandwich in his hand, placing it in the basket to join the plates.

“And you don’t think it will?” Jude raises an eyebrow; she may be a particularly perceptive woman, but it isn't very difficult to see that there's something Kit isn't saying.

His mind drifts for a moment to the other night, when he and Jude sat in the living room, chatting quietly after the kids had gone to sleep. She’d asked about you, and before Kit knew it, he was spilling his guts to her, finally speaking the words he’s been unable to say to you. It’d felt amazing to finally get them out... until he noticed Julia peaking around the door frame, brown eyes trained on he and Jude She scurried off, giggling quietly down the hall, and when he asked her about it the next day, it was clear to Kit that his daughter had heard the entire conversation. And it didn’t need to be said that she had told Thomas; the two of them have never kept anything from each other in their lives…

“I hope it does.” Kit replies after several moments of silence. He’s not at all concerned about whether or not you’ll get along with his family. There’s no doubt in his mind that Jude will be taken, and the kids are going to adore you. “I just need help makin’ sure they don’t say anything.” He glances toward the two small figures in the next room where they lie on the floor, markers in hand as they draw colorful pictures and fill out puzzles from the day-old newspaper Jude had provided to keep them occupied.

“About?” Jude's smirk grows into a playful grin. She’s having fun with this; a little too much, in Kit’s opinion. He scowls and she laughs quietly.

“About... y’know?”

“About how you love them?” Jude’s voice carries into the next room a bit too loudly for Kit’s liking, and his eyes go wide. He places a finger to his lips, eyes darting to the children to make sure they’re still distracted; so far, so good.

“Yes.”

“Well, when are you going to tell her? You’re not getting any younger, y’know.” Kit's unable to stop the smile that breaks across his face.

“Soon. I just… need to find the right moment.”

“There’s no such thing as the right moment, Walker," she chortles, rolling a bundle of silverware into a napkin. “But…I’ll do my best.” Kit smiles gratefully, but she shakes her head continuing. “But they’re kids. Kids'll say whatever they want to.” Knowing she's right, Kit groans, running a hand through his hair before feeling around in the pocket of his jeans for his pack of cigarettes.

He's in for an interesting day.

——

The worn wood of the bench feels rough under your fingers as you tap against it anxiously. You take a quick peak to your right again, in search of the vehicle you’re waiting for. It’s a big day. In just- you glance down at your watch for the fifth time – two and a half minutes, your boyfriend is supposed to arrive with his family.

It terrifies you.

It’s not that you have any issues with kids. You love them. Becoming a parent has always been a part of the plan for you. However, you don’t have much experience with them and, this is the first time you’ve ever been with someone with children of their own. It’s... intimidating.

Kit, however, has been nothing but reassuring. A small smile crosses your face, thinking of the last thing he’d said to you when he'd called last night. Don’t worry, babe. They’re gonna love you.

God, you hope he’s right.

Kit’s told you so much about his kids over the last several months the two of you have been together, and you can tell by the warmth in his voice, by the way his eyes light up when he tells you something funny one of them did, that they are his world. As they should be. You wouldn’t want it any other way.

There's absolutely no doubt in your mind that you've fallen head over heels for this man... That’s what's so frightening; you don’t want to screw anything up. For anyone's sake.

You’re in the middle of reciting some of the things Kit had told you about the kids- ‘Julia’s really into football right now, a little chatterbox, and Thomas loves readin’, but he’s pretty shy’- when you hear tires making their way along the narrow dirt road. Turning your head again, your stomach flips when you see the familiar station wagon- much fuller with people than normal- pull into the small parking lot. You smile, raising your hand in a wave when Kit sees you, and swallow hard.

The driver’s door quickly opens, and Kit makes his way over, basket in hand. The passenger, Jude, stays behind to help the kids out of their seats.

“Hey, you.” Kit murmurs, a smile on his face as he leans down to press a tender kiss to your cheek.

“Hi.” With a shaky breath, you take your bottom lip between your teeth when he pulls back. With a sympathetic smile, Kit takes your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“They’re gonna love you,” he reminds, and you huff a laugh. Julia begins speaking excitedly as she hops out of the car; you can’t make out what she’s saying, but she sounds enthusiastic, so you’re taking that as a good sign.

“If you say so.” You grip his hand more tightly and he chuckles as the two of you make your way toward the sound of the animated voice.

Now or never.

“Y/N!” You jump at the sound, completely taken off guard- even more so when something barrels into you, wrapping around your waist. You look down to see the small girl- the one that you recognize from the many pictures Kit has shown you -beaming up at you. Kit laughs, scooping her up into his arms as Jude moves to stand in front of the three of you. Thomas hangs onto her hand, hiding behind her dress.

“Y/N, this is Jude, Thomas, and you’ve already met Julia.” He shakes his head, tickling his daughter’s ribs until she’s leaning into him, in a fit of giggles.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you all,” you say, hoping the smile on your face doesn’t come across as uneasy.

“We could say the same to you. This one,”- she gestures to Kit- “is talking about you constantly.” You smile widely at this, eyes moving to Kit to find his cheeks turning rosy.

“Oh, really?”

“Uh-huh!” Julia chimes in, Thomas slowly nodding his agreement.

“Oh, you.” You nudge Kit’s arm gently, and his eyes shift quickly back and forth between the children. Jude lets out a trill of laughter then, taking Julia’s hand in hers.

“Why don’t we find somewhere to sit? I’m sure we’re all getting hungry.” The kids agree enthusiastically, taking off in a sprint toward a nearby gazebo where several tables sit. “Hey, slow it down, you two!” Jude calls, following them.

You turn to Kit, who brings your hand to his lips, placing a kiss there; there’s something about his expression that you can’t quite place, but he seems happy, so you’re happy. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, letting your hands fall and dangle together as the two of you slowly make your way to the table where the children sit, awaiting their lunch. Julia laughs beckoning the two of you over, and there’s a shy little smile on Thomas’ face. Your nerves are slowly fading, and you let out a breathy sigh, smiling up at him.

“I’m glad I’m here, too.”

--

The meal is fantastic, and by the time you’re wiping your mouth on your napkin and placing it down on the empty plate in front of you, you can hardly remember why you were so panicky about this meeting in the first place. The food is delicious, Jude accepting your compliments on her potato salad graciously. The two of to you discuss your job, her asking about the intricacies of what you do. Not in a prying way, though; she seems genuinely interested.

It’s not long before the kids take to you, either. Julia already has, it seems, as she insists on sitting across from you while you eat. She tells lots of stories; everything from the science project she and Kit have been working on for school, to the time that Jude took her and Thomas to the zoo.; you find out that hippos are her favorite animal. “Isn’t it so cute when they wiggle their ears??” she asks.

Thomas takes a bit more coaxing, but not much; not when you decide to ask him what his favorite book is. His eyes light up and he brings up several, speaking excitedly about a chapter from the one he's currently in the middle of.

“Daddy, can we play now?” Julia asks, setting her fork down; she bounces around like she’s ready to jump out of her seat, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Sure,” Kit chuckles, placing his empty glass of iced tea on the table. I’m just gonna use the bathroom real quick, but go onnahead.” He stands, patting your shoulder. Shooting what he hopes is a discreet glance Jude's way, he moves toward the small bathroom stalls a few yards away.

Jude laughs, a soft smile on her face, watching as Julia moves to cling to your arm. “Alright, Thomas, it. looks like it’s you and me. What do you wanna do first?” She takes the small boy’s hand, and he leads them in the direction of the sandbox.

Julia glances around, and when she sees that everyone’s out of earshot, she leans into you, bringing a hand to her mouth to ask, “Y/N, can I tell you a secret?”

Her over-exaggerated whisper and enthusiasm make you giggle, and you nod. “Sure.”

She climbs into the seat beside you, leaning in closer to speak into your ear. “My daddy loves you.”

You’re quiet for several seconds, having absolutely no idea how to respond. You look down at her, eventually stuttering out, “O-oh… really? How do you know that?” You're half expecting a nonsensical answer, but when she opens her mouth, the young girl is serious.

“I heard him and Nana talking about it the a couple'a nights ago when I got out of bed for a drink of water.” She grins up at you. “…But I can just tell.”

“H-how can you tell?”

She shrugs. "He smiles when he talks about you." Her answer is so simple, so pure, and it holds so much meaning; you're sure there's a dopey grin growing on your face right now.

“Well, your dad’s pretty great. And I think you’re pretty great, Julia.” Her smile grows impossibly wider as she wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you into a tight hug. You hold her tiny frame and are on cloud nine when you spot Kit closing the door to the restroom behind him; when he sees the two of you still sitting there, he makes his way over.

Kit chuckles to himself, overcome with joy when he walks out of the bathroom to see you holding Julia in an embrace, smiles on both of your faces. He walks slowly toward you, silently praying that his daughter hasn’t said anything she shouldn’t have. So much for Jude’s help… Should'a known better. He glances at his friend, sitting on the edge of the sandbox with his son. Jude looks up, smirking, and he rolls his eyes at her.

Nevertheless, he’s decided. It has to be now.

“What’re you two doin’ over here?” He places a warm hand on your arm as he stands behind you, appraising his daughter. “Jules, I thought you wanted to play? You’ve been sayin’ how excited you were for the jungle gym all week.” Julia’s small legs swing back and forth as she watches her father, with a shrug.

“I wanted to talk to Y/N first.”

“Well, we can keep talking while we play, then,” you decide, standing quickly, but Kit grabs your hand, stilling you.

“Actually, I wanna talk to you about somethin’ real quick.” His voice is low in your ear, and he watches his daughter tensely.

“Oh, o-okay.” Your eyes move to Julia and you smile. “Why don’t you go down the slide a few times, and I’ll be over there in a minute?”

“Okay!” The little girl jumps from her spot, sprinting toward concrete of the playground.

“Be careful!” Kit shouts after her. With a chuckle, he takes his previous seat and pats the one beside him. You smile happily, leaning your head on his shoulder when you move next to him.

“They’re really great, Kit. All of them.”

Kit smiles proudly, watching as Jude helps Thomas make some sort of sculpture in the sand. “They are,” he agrees with a nod. “Jude likes you. The kids really like you.”

“I’m so glad.” You sigh in relief, turning to meet his gaze. “I was so worried they’d all hate me.”

“How could they?” he asks, leaning in to place a sweet peck to your lips. You smile against his mouth, your own tingling as he pulls back. You can’t help but glimpse toward playground to see if the kids have noticed. They’re still preoccupied, but Jude’s noticed; she sends you a wink and your cheeks grow warm. Seeing the exchange, Kit scowls playfully, waving a hand at her. She laughs, turning back to the sandy masterpiece Thomas is working diligently on.

“So,” Kit begins... Deep breath. “There’s somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to talk to you about.”

“Okay.” Your heartbeat pounds in your ears. “What’s up?” …Could it be?

“It’s something I’ve wanted to say for a while, actually. He’s looking at his hands as he says this, biting down on his bottom lip when his gaze finally meets yours. “I haven’t felt this way about anyone in… a long time. Not since...” He trails off, but you know he’s thinking of the kid’s mothers, so you nod in understanding. “Honestly it’s a little scary, but I think I- I mean, I know I-“ He cuts himself off, and takes a deep breath, shaking his head slowly. “Christ. I dunno why this is so hard, I just…” He sighs deeply.

“…Kit?”

“Yeah?”

“…I love you, too.”

“You… you love m- wait, what?” His eyes grow wide, and he groans after a moment, knowing exactly who the culprit is. “Julia told you?” You can't help but laugh quietly, nodding your confirmation. “I shoulda known. My little blabbermouth.” A wistful smile grows on his face, and the amount of adoration you feel for this man in this moment is staggering.

“So… it’s true, then?” you ask, taking one of his hands in both of yours.

He nods, smiling as he leans in to press his forehead to yours. “I love you, Y/N. I do.” His voice is hardly above a whisper, but it feels like a shout; a declaration. Your returning smile is bright, certainly one of the best Kit’s ever seen- one he’s sure he’ll remember for the rest of his life -and when you wrap your arms around his neck, his own widens further, the muscles in his face beginning to ache, but he couldn't care less.

“I love you, Kit Walker. So much.” You move in for a kiss of your own; it’s short, but full of more meaning than any you’ve ever had.

Pulling back, you pat his knee gently. You stand from your seat, offering a hand out to him. “C’mon. Earlier, I promised Julia I’d watch her on the monkey bars.” Kit laughs, taking your hand and slinging an arm around your waist once he’s standing. You make your way to where the girl is currently whizzing down the largest slide in the park, squealing with laughter. Glancing at the sandbox, you see Jude eyeing you, a knowing smirk on her face; you blush, but smile back.

Right here, right now, moving toward the laughter of Kit’s loving family, there isn’t a sliver of doubt in your mind that this is meant to be.

This is where you belong.

taglist: @therenlover, @tatestripedsweater, @kitwalker02, @ladyfogg, @mossybank, @undeadcortez, @sallyscigarettes, @xmaximoffic, @samsassinparvismagna, @liandav, @kitwalkerangel, @elaineygrace, @milly-louise @americxn (please feel free to fill out this form to be added/removed for future fics)

[jj-5656]

🎄Fa-la-la-late🎄 With; Diego Hargreeves

A/N:Ummmm...hello? First off, thank you all so much for the love on my last couple imagines. Sorry for the hiatus, what can I say junior year is as hard as they say it is. Anyway, I was supposed to be sleeping last night but I was writing this instead. Leave it to me to become inspired at the worst times. This is for everyone celebrating a holiday this year without your family because of the pandemic (which is still a thing btw.) Also, this is very long but I love it. Okay enough talking, enjoy!

TW: None except...Well, Klaus is Klaus. And more random POV change bc I can!

He’s running, sprinting really, brown bag tucked haphazardly under his arm as it’s contents jostle around inside with his movements. Filled with last minute groceries for the evenings event. Never in Diego Hargreeves’ life had he thought he’d be rushing home in preparations for a Christmas party, in a red sweater for that matter. But what can he say, a year into his relationship with her and he’s officially whipped. Ever since the two of you met you had introduced him to an enormity of things he’d never considered important. Whether it be birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, you’ve added so much more to him that he could never really repay you for. So, he figures making a very last minute trip to the ever so crowded grocery store on Christmas Eve is worth it. Having to deal with other crazed and unprepared city people for three types of cheeses, four types of crackers, and a particularly expensive bottle of wine.

Apparently a Christmas party, or any get together for that matter, is simply incomplete without an assortment of appetizers. Right, Diego Hargreeves hosting a Christmas party for his siblings. The same ones who only learned about holidays in their World Culture textbooks during hours sectioned off on their daily regimen instead of actually celebrating them. The biting cold reminds him of the lonely Christmas’ throughout his life, which was at the time any other day of the year to him. He snaps out of the dark thoughts when he realizes he’s made it up the stairs and to the front door, a chorus of clanging pots and curses coming from inside.

He fumbles through the door, reminding himself he’s supposed to be rushing, but the beautifully decorated apartment distracts him from the task at hand. The warm feeling he’s still getting used to fluttering through his stomach as he recalls when you first surprised him with the holiday decor.

“It’s not too much, right? I know you never really celebrated Christmas, and neither of us are religious but my family always made the holidays a big deal and I thought-”

“You did all this?” His brown eyes are wide, gazing up at the assortment of twinkling lights aligning the interior of your shared home, a beautiful tree full of red and green ornaments in the middle of your living room. It’s stunning, to say the least, and Diego’s sure he’s never felt so much at home as he does now.

You’re gazing up at him, eyes nervously darting between your boyfriend and the assortment of ornaments. He walks forward from the entryway to admire the garland above the fireplace and the evergreen that just barely scruffs the top of the ceiling. It’s all new to him, and a bit overwhelming, and suddenly Diego realizes the resentment he’s held toward the holiday ever since he was a child was completely misguided. Because the joy he feels now, the warmth tingling throughout his body is foreign but so comforting.

“You hate it, don’t you? Listen, I just thought maybe I’d try and show you Christmas isn’t all about consumerism and selling shitty-”

“It’s beautiful.” He interrupts again, and you swear there’s a moisture begging to leave his eyes as he finally looks to you with an awed expression.

“I don’t, I’ve never...I always hated Christmas. I guess because I never had a real family as a kid. But this, this is j-just...Thank you.”

*End Flashback*

“You’re late!” You shout as the front door bursts open, a familiar thud of boots kicking snow off their bottoms and then walking towards the kitchen. Diego walks in with hands full with groceries, hair wet and messy with flurries of snow littering the raven strands. You narrow your eyes at the sight of him, dopey smile on his face as he sets the bags down on the counter.

“What’s gotten into you? I thought you’d still be grumpy at the fact that we’re hosting.” You’re less than presentable at the moment, having been cooking all day and leaving getting yourself ready for last minute. You puff a stray hair out of your face as he responds.

“Nothing, and actually I am still upset that my siblings are coming over.” He leans against the counter as you unpack the groceries, eager to finish up so you can look a little less crazy when the remaining Hargreeves arrive. Diego is still staring at you, grinning fondly at how flustered you look. And although he’d rather not have you meet his brothers and sister, you deserve to know why he’s keeping you from meeting. After all, it’s been a year since you’ve been together, and he’s met your family already.

It’s different though, because although they too have their issues, your family isn’t a dysfunctional pack of emotionally-stunted freaks. He’d much rather protect you from their intrusive antics. The warm feeling fades as he realizes what’s to come. He appreciates your optimism, truly, but he suddenly can’t shake the feeling that they’ll manage to upset you and ultimately screw up what you’ve been preparing for all day.

“A little help please?” You ground him once more, gesturing to the bags beside the both of you and the assortment of trays of food on the counters. Diego grabs onto your sides when you try to brush past him to check on the turkey, ignoring your incredulous look as he presses his body against yours.

“There’s still time to call this all off, you know. We can watch all the cheesy Christmas movies you want, and have dinner all to ourselves.” His eyes are hopefully looking into yours, the persuasion in his tone hinting a part of him isn’t really joking.

“Absolutely not. Di, we’ve been together for a year now. I want to get to know your siblings. Besides, you met my family and they loved you!”

“That’s different y/n, you’re family is...Well, they’re not like mine! You guys are normal! My brother is a moon-obsessed, half monkey moron and my sister is a mind-controlling movie star.” You can’t help but giggle at his words even though his frustration is adamant. He backs away from your embrace and runs his a hand through his hair in an effort to calm himself down. The sudden thought of one of them being too pushy or making you upset is overwhelming him now. If it’s one thing he’d like to keep you from, it’s the bad side of him his siblings tend to bring out.

“Diego.” Your voice is soft now, you’re using that love-laced tone that always makes him feel like he’s melting. He shivers as you get closer to him, still somehow getting used to the effect you have on him. And although you don’t notice, you seem to be aware you’re calming him down. “I’m scared too, I don’t want to mess something up or embarrass myself in front of them. Hell, your little-or...Older brother is a time traveling assassin who’s kind of a genius. It’s intimidating definitely, but they’re your family Di. I know you hate to admit it, but they’ve played a huge role in who you are. And even if a lot of times you resent each other, it’s clear you love them.”

He’s gotta admit, you’ve always had a way with words. “Fine, what can I do to help beautiful?”

“you can start with setting the table so I can get ready and actually look beautiful. And use the good China!” You plant a quick kiss to his cheek before rushing off to the bedroom, silently praying the anxious won’t drop a plate or two in the process.

****************************

“Baby, does red or white wine go with tur-woah.” You’re doing some finishing touches on your makeup when Diego walks in, honey brown eyes shamelessly looking over your figure with a smirk as he now leans against the door frame.

You roll you eyes at his ogling, but can’t help smoothing down the silky olive green fabric of the dress your wearing with a pleased smile. Gold jewelry adorns your neck and ears, with matching gold heels to bring the look together. The red of his sweater (he so stubbornly obliged to wearing) compliments the green you're wearing beautifully. A year ago, Diego wonders just how much it would take him to put on anything other than black.

“Cmon, they’ll be here any minute.”

As if I’m cue, the doorbell of the apartment rings. You rush to the front door, Diego trailing behind as he reminds himself how important the evening is to you.

“And remember, no knives.” You whisper to him, turning back around and opening the door.

“Fröhliche Weihnachten!” Klaus pushes through the entryway excitedly, tackling you in a hug in greeting. Luckily, you’ve already met the most eccentric sibling of the bunch. As he often crashes at your place, much to Diego’s disliking (or so he says).

“My my my, that dress is to die for! I’ll be borrowing that soon. And those heels! Please tell me we’re the same siz-”

“Alright bonehead, you can steal her stuff later. Take yourself and the booze to the kitchen.” Diego interrupts, shrugging when you slap his shoulder at his bluntness.

Greeting the rest of the family goes better than expected. Allison and Luther arrived together (an innocent carpool of course) whilst Vanya had come just a few minutes after Klaus, happy to see she wasn’t the first to arrive. She brought along with her a homemade dish, Allison with a top notch bottle of champagne, and Five with a box of Griddy’s  donuts and...Coffee? His odd choice of food making the perfect ice breaker, to his confusion of course. 

“Alright, enough small talk. Diego, how much are you paying this lovely lady to pretend to be your girlfriend?” Klaus interjects your conversation about current events as the rest of the table looks to the pair of you and laughs. 

“Seriously, Allison couldn’t even rumor someone to be this good of a cook,” Luther chimes in. Not having looked up from his plate for a majority of the meal.

Although slightly offended, Diego realizes his siblings have a valid point. You’re blushing crimson as you laugh along, shaking your head and nervously rambling on about when you just last week almost burnt the apartment down trying to perfect said recipes. He’s entranced as you speak, admiring the way you seem to capture all of them with unknown ease. Unknown, truly, because you’re still too modest to see how perfect you are. He doesn’t deserve you, but he’ll spend every day trying to even out the impossible score. It's known he can be quite the competitor. 

“I’m just shocked he’s out of black for once.”

“Says the 45 year old in a school uniform!”

                                          **********************

“Alright, I’ll clear up dinner so we can start dessert.” Y/n announces, just in time to halt a three-way argument between her boyfriend, Luther and Five about some Academy mission from when they were kids. The evening has been lighthearted for the most part, with a majority of the conflict being steered off by Allison or Vanya. The two practically experts at distracting their egotistical brothers. You catch on as they do so, the three of you having shared a few sly smirks between one another a few times throughout the meal. 

“Please y/n, let me. You’ve done more than enough tonight. Besides, I need someone to test out that wine for me.” Allison assures, kicking Diego’s shin and motioning to the kitchen when you’ve given her an appreciative smile and inquired Vanya on her violin skills. 

Allison’s knife wielding brother shoots her a look of shock at her actions, trailing along confusedly after her. Your empty plate and his own in hand as he sets them down in the sink. 

“What the hell? Why-where-you-hiding-her-from-us!) The curly haired woman emphasizes each word with a smack of a stray dish towel to his arm, sure nobody can hear them over Klaus’ obnoxious storytelling back in the dining room. 

“Quit it! I wasn’t hiding her I-I was protecting her from you shitheads.” Diego defends, once again bewildered by his sister’s playful outburst. 

“Diego! She’s amazing, you should’ve introduced us forever ago.” 

“Right, she’s amazing. What do you not get by the word protecting? If you all had met her any sooner you would have scared her off!” He flails his arms as he speaks, unaware of his flushed cheeks as his sister smiles fondly at him. 

“What now Allison?”

“You loooveee her.” She poke his side as she teases, chuckling again when he swats her arm away. The scene is childish, but something about the heat rising through his neck to the tips of his ears makes Diego feel like a kid again. Allison teasing him about girls, just as they had when they were young. 

“Wh-whatever. Yeah, I love her. Can we go back to the table now, or should we paint our nails and giggle about how totes adorbs Luther Looks in that coat?” They both laugh at his mocking, leaving the room and too giddy to remember the discarded plates left behind. 

                                      ***********************

“An espresso machine? Wow, Columbia-brewed K-cups too! You shouldn’t have y/n.” Five is beaming at the gift in hand, wrapping paper still hanging off the side of the box as he admires the machine. His siblings stare confusedly at his jolly demeanor, and he immediately clears his throat before giving said girl a curt nod. “Thanks.” He deadpans, and you laugh with a nod at his change in demeanor. 

Luther and Allison have already opened their gifts, the burly man pointing to his miniature moon replica and lecturing about the craters and valleys to an extremely bored Klaus. Allison has already put on the elegant gold charm bracelet you’ve given her, rolling charm with Claire’s initials and birthstone on it with glossy eyes. Beside her, Vanya delicately peels the wrapping off to a freshly polished violin case, her name inscribed in cursive on the top. 

“It’s beautiful. I-I’m so sorry we didn’t get you anything. If I had known-”

“Nonsense V, I’m just glad you could all make it tonight.” You reassure with genuine smile, glad to see her positive response to the nickname. 

“I still can’t believe you got them gifts.” Diego mumbles from behind you, having climbed over the back of the couch you’re all sat on to have you sit between his legs. He kisses your temple and wraps his arms around your middle, softly humming when yo lean into him. The fireplace is crackling, and the record payer you love dearly quietly plays a Perry Como Christmas album. You close your eyes, taking in the warm feeling and relaxing in Diego’s touch. The two of you jumping when a shout comes from beside you.

“My turn! My turn!” Klaus claps loudly to grab your attention. You chuckle at his childish ways, leaning down to pick up the wrapped present at your feet and handing it off to him. Unlike the others, he eagerly rips apart the wrapping, gasping dramatically when he lifts up the skirt. 

“You’re a bit hard to shop for, there’s a gift receipt if-” The excitable man scrambles up from the floor tug on the fabric, twirling around in it in a fit of giggles before you can finish your statement. 

“Great, he’ll never take that off.” Diego mumbles in your ear, you shake your head with a smirk at his teasing before you’re reminded of something.

“Oh! And one more thing.” You note suddenly, climbing out of Diego’s hold as he huffs reluctantly. You pull a a final present from under the tree, secretly handing it to Klaus to make sure the others don’t see. Though they’re too enveloped in conversation to noticed.

“Another one for me?” He whispers happily, eyes furrowing when you shake your head. Sitting back down in Diego’s arms before you explain. 

“No, well...Yes, sort of. You’ll see.” You ramble, gesturing to the box in his hands as he apprehensively chuckles. You feel Diego’s eyes on you, deciding to place a peck on his jaw instead of elaborating. 

Klaus pulls out a pair of books, readig the well-known titles before looking up at you. You motion to the box once more, biting your nail as he sets them aside and reaches in once more. He pulls out  picture frame with a sharp intake of breathe, hand going over his mouth as he looks up at you once more. Your boyfriend, eager to see what has silenced his rowdy brother, takes the frame to inspect it. 

It’s a picture of him, Klaus, and Ben on the front steps of the academy. Having to be only five or six in the photo. Klaus has an arm around Ben, smiling big for the camera as his brother offers a smaller, but no less genuine grin to the lens. Diego sits a step above them, mouth frozen open in a laugh as he must of been reaction to something only Klaus could make him react so much at. 

“I remember Di telling me Ben read a lot. And...Well, it felt wrong to get everyone else a gift but him. Those are two of my favorit-”

“Wh-Where did you find this?” Diego whispers, arms encircled even tighter around you as he holds up the frame in shock. 

“When we were moving in. I found it at the bottom of one of the shelves at your room at the gym. It was under a bunch of old books you had, I figured it could use a frame.” Just as you finish, Klaus practically tackles you in a hug, a soft hiccup coming from him when he pulls away. 

“Geez Klaus, it’s just a skirt!” 

“Can-it Luther!”

                                     *************************

“You think he’ll be alright?” You mutter from the bedroom hallway. You and Diego leaning against the wall, looking at Klaus whose passed out on the sofa. The others having left hours ago, but you simply couldn’t wake him at seeing how peaceful he was. The picture frame still tucked to his chest as he snored softly. 

“Trust me, he’s fine. I think he’ll be sleeping in that skirt every night from now on.” Diego pulls you to your bedroom door as you laugh, the exhaustion from today finally setting. 

“Hey, would you look at that? Mistletoe.” Your head trails upwards to gaze up at the fruit being dangled above your head as you grin.

“Those are grapes Di.”

“Are they? Hmm, must be from that stupid cheese board I had to run across town for.” 

“It’s a chacuterie, actually. Didn’t you learn French Hargreeves?”

“Yep, but I only seem to remember two words.”

“Oh really? And what might those be?”

“Embrasse moi” He finishes as he connects his lips with yours, holding your face as if you might slip away when he lets go. 

“Smooth, knife boy.” You pull away softly, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

“Merry Christmas Di.”