#seriously thinking about my job makes me feel sick

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Twenty-Two

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Chapter Twenty-Two: Summer Break Days

Summary: Saiki's vacation plans are interrupted by idiots, but at least he gets some time with (Y/N).

            (Y/N) sighed and put their head down on their desk. “Finally. Exams are over, and it’s summer break.”

            “But they won’t let us out of school early,” said Saiki.

            “Any plans outside of relaxing?” said (Y/N).

            “We agreed to watch Pride and Prejudice,” said Saiki.

            Feeling their cheeks warm, (Y/N) smiled. “You were really being serious?”

            “I don’t joke,” said Saiki.

            “Awesome! Then how about we do it—”

            “Hey, Saiki, (L/N)!” Kaidou and Kuboyasu appeared behind them. “Do you have a minute?”

            Saiki nearly scowled as his time to make plans with (Y/N) was interrupted, but he prevented himself from doing so. The sooner we hear them out, the sooner they’ll leave us alone.

            “Do you want to get a motorcycle license with us over the summer break?” asked Kaidou.

            “Let’s get one together,” said Kuboyasu.

            Well, I’m done listening. I have no interest in a vehicle that can only go as fast as my brisk walking speed, thought Saiki. “I don’t have the money for one, so no.”

            Kuboyasu nodded in understanding. “It does cost a lot.”

            “When is the course?” asked (Y/N).

            Kaidou showed them to days, and (Y/N) shook their head.

            “I’m doing a course in confection arts those days, so I’m not free,” said (Y/N).

            “That’s too bad,” said Kaidou.

            He and Kuboysasu walked away.

            “I protected my vacation,” said Saiki.

            “Are you seriously not going to do anything with anyone other than watch a movie with me?” aid (Y/N), chuckling.

            “You’re the only one I want to hang out with,” said Saiki matter-of-factly.

            (Y/N) fought back the blush and tried to remain their usual, jovial self in the face of such a statement from Saiki. “That’s sweet, Kusuo.”

            “Ignore it,” said Saiki. (Y/N) just laughed.

            Mera was the next person to walk up and speak to them. “Do you have a minute?” she asked the pair. “Do you want to work with me over the summer? It’s a bit far, but…”

            “No thanks,” said Saiki.

            “It depends, what type of job is it?” asked (Y/N).

            Curse (Y/N)’s kindness, thought Saiki.

            “All you have to do is take suspicious pills given by suspicious researchers at a suspicious laboratory and sleep!” said Mera brightly.

            “Oh, sorry, Mera, but I can’t risk messing up my taste buds since I work so often with food, and medicines have a tendency to skew taste if you get sick,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “That was your problem with that idea?”

            “Aw, okay, (L/N). What about you, Saiki?” asked Mera.

            “It’s too far away.”

            Gloomy, Mera left them and went to ask more people. Saiki and (Y/N) decided to get up and head into the halls to wait for the bell to go off to let them leave since exams had finished.

            “Oh, Saiki, (L/N), I was just looking for you!” said Hairo, smiling. “Do you want to join our club’s summer training camp?”

            “Hairo, we’re not in your club,” pointed out (Y/N).

            “Two members canceled, but we don’t want to waste trip money,” explained Hairo. “What do you think?”

            “We’re part of the Occult Club, and it’s doing something,” said Saiki, completely lying.

            “Oh, that’s too bad. Have fun,” said Hairo, walking away.

            “I didn’t know we had something with the Occult Club,” said (Y/N), tilting their head.

            “We don’t, and we didn’t even want to be a part of it, so we’re not going if Toritsuka does plan something,” said Saiki.

            “Normally, I’d say we should give it a try, but it will be one of Toritsuka’s ideas…” said (Y/N), trailing off.

            “Exactly,” said Saiki.

            “Saiki! (L/N)!”

            “Speak of the devil,” remarked (Y/N).

            “We don’t need to listen to him,” said Saiki, taking (Y/N)’s wrist and pulling them away from Toritsuka.

            “Hey! Let’s have an Occult Club training camp!” said Toritsuka, trying to catch them.

            “Toritsuka, what would the point of a training camp for the Occult Club be?” said (Y/N).

            “I need help getting with Arisu!” said Toritsuka.

            “You’re already using her first name?” said (Y/N). “That’s familiar.”

            “He’s just being weird,” said Saiki.

            “Pleeeease?” said Toritsuka. “It’s called Operation Spirits: Love-Struck Arisu and Popular Reita.”

            “That’s a terrible name,” said Saiki.

            “But you did tell Hairo we were doing something with Toritsuka,” whispered (Y/N).

            Unfortunately, (Y/N) was right. Still… “I still won’t go.” Saiki walked off.

            “If you’re not going, I’m not,” said (Y/N) brightly, following him.

            “Hey!” exclaimed Toritsuka, offended at Saiki and (Y/N)’s lack of enthusiasm to help him.

            “You still have a free break!” said (Y/N), grinning.

            “Don’t jinx it,” said Saiki.

            “Oh, Saiki!” said Teruhashi, running up towards him. “I was hoping to see you before break. Saiki…do you have any plans for summer break?”

            I can’t say no to her if she wants to go out, everyone would get angry. Saiki hated social norms.

            “I happen to have tickets to the amusement park opening up,” said Teruhashi. “Would you…would you want to go with me?” She glowed and smiled.

            Saiki froze, trying to find a way out of it. (Y/N) glanced at the tickets and smiled apologetically at Teruhashi.

            “Oh, I’m sorry, Kokomi, but Kusuo and I made plans for that day,” said (Y/N).

            “O-Oh? You did? The two of you?” Teruhashi glanced between the two, and Saiki was alarmed by the thoughts going through her head.

            “Yep! We’re having a movie night. I’m sorry,” said (Y/N).

            “That’s alright. I understand. I, um, yeah.” Teruhashi couldn’t get the courage to ask for Saiki to go with her another day. If she did, it would mean she was interested in spending time with Saiki and not just “happening” to ask him. “Have fun!” She hurried away.

            (Y/N) sighed and frowned. “I hope she gets over her crush soon. It would be healthy for her to like someone who could like her back. I hope they aren’t obsessed with her, though. She deserves someone who likes her for her, not her beauty.”

            Saiki was amazed that in one swift move (Y/N) had saved him from going on a date and getting attention because it was wish Teruhashi and simultaneously wished for Teruhashi to have a wonderful love-life. They really were too nice.

            “Saiki! (L/N)! There you are,” said Toritsuka, catching up to them. “Come on, let’s do a training camp!”

            “Enough with the club,” said Saiki.

            “Wait, you decided not to go?” said Hairo, appearing out of nowhere.

            “Uh-oh,” said (Y/N).

            Saiki patted Toritsuka shoulder and gave Hairo a peace-sign.

            “Oh, you’re coming? Great!” said Toritsuka excitedly. “It’ll be the first and second of August!”

            “I suppose we are,” said (Y/N), shrugging.

            “That’s awesome, since our training camp is the third to the ninth,” said Hairo instantly.

            “I can’t, sorry,” said (Y/N). “I need time to do my summer homework.”

            “Too bad, but I guess you have to be a good student. Saiki, I’ll put you down for going, okay? It’s in Tooi-cho!”

            “Wait—”

            Hairo ran off.

            “Hey, the job I told you about is in Tooi-cho, too!” said Mera, appearing out of nowhere and looking at Saiki happily. “And it starts on the tenth and lasts a week!”

            Poor Saiki’s free time was quickly filling up.

            “You’re getting a job, Saiki? Then you’ll have money for the course and a motorcycle!” said Kaidou.

            “You can get a license with us,” said Kuboyasu, smiling.

            Every single day of Saiki’s break was filled up with activities with people. He nearly deflated, and (Y/N) patted his back in consolation.

            “If you need the time off, we can move our movie night to a different time,” said (Y/N), not wanting to intrude on Saiki’s need for time alone. They knew that recharging from social interactions was imperative to maintaining mental health.

            “No, I want to have the movie night,” said Saiki stubbornly. It was the only thing he’d want to in the first place. He refused to give up that.

            (Y/N) smiled. “Then I’ll make sure it’s a relaxing night. No need to stress yourself out. I’ll make some snacks, you just have to show up, okay?”

            Saiki really did think (Y/N) was an angel, and he needed to find a way to thank them for their endless generosity and patience.

l

            Summer arrived, and the first day of Saiki’s long, people-filled break began with Toritsuka’s Occult Club shenanigans.

            “Welcome to the temple!” said Toritsuka, showing the Occult Club around the temple he lived in. “This isn’t my house, but my dad knows people here, so they are letting me stay.”

            “Wow, so cool!” exclaimed Makino and Yumehara.

            “I bet his dad kicked him out,” muttered Saiki.

            “If not, it’s hard to believe someone so perverted was raised in a temple,” remarked (Y/N).

            “This way is my room,” said Toritsuka, leading them into a hall and opening a sliding door. “Come on in.” He grinned, hoping to get a good reaction from the attractive people in the room (mostly Makino, though).

            Saiki tuned out of his thoughts, exhausted with the romantic ideas floating within them. Unfortunately, he landed on Yumehara’s thoughts about having a chance to get with Kaidou tonight. Sighing, Saiki tried to block out everyone’s thoughts. Everyone’s romances were so dramatic. He’d prefer something simple, natural, domestic. He hoped that was something (Y/N) would prefer, too, instead of any drama. Maybe the movie night could become something more…

            Yare yare, now I’m doing it.

l

            Night arrived, and Toritsuka led the group to the woods, letting the moon rise high over them as midnight arrived.

            “Many people go missing in this forest,” he said mysteriously. “In the dead of night, the members of a murder-suicide family appear and drag—ack!”

            Saiki had flared the flame of a candle to stop Toritsuka from telling a fake story to scare everyone. The candle sputtered out.

            “This is not the place for games,” said Makino, trembling. “I can feel many dreadful spirits.”

            “Hey, don’t worry. I was born in a temple,” said Toritsuka, winking. “Now, let’s begin the test of courage!” He gestured to the dark path behind them. “We will take this path in pairs.” He grinned and patted Makino’s shoulder. “Lets just go with the flow and make our own pairs.”

            “Sounds good!” said Yumehara, grinning and grabbing Kaidou’s shoulders. “It would be a waste of our time not to!”

            “It’s almost like they planned it with one another,” whispered (Y/N).

            “They might have,” said Saiki in agreement.

            “Hold on, I want to be with Saiki or (L/N),” said Makino.

            “I want to be with them, too,” said Kaidou.

            “What? Why Saiki and (L/N)?” cried Toritsuka.

            “Kaidou is kind of helpless, and you’re a little weird,” said Makino. “So it was a process of elimination.”

            I was hoping to go with Kusuo, thought (Y/N), a little disappointed. Was it the exact same tactic as Toritsuka and Yumehara to get closer to their crush? Absolutely. Did they still like the idea? Of course.

            “(Y/N) and I are going together,” said Saiki firmly, and (Y/N) perked up.

            “If we can’t decide, let’s draw lots,” said Toritsuka, breaking a few sticks and putting them in his hand. “Those who get the sticks of the same length will pair up. Saiki, you can go first.”

            Saiki and (Y/N) exchanged a look. Saiki would definitely be using his powers to make sure they were a pair together (because they were friends. Best friends. Not because he had a crush and wanted to be closer. That would mean lowering himself to Toritsuka’s standards).

            “Saiki got a short one. Arisu, you’re next,” said Toritsuka. Makino pulled out a stick. “You got a medium-length one. Next is (L/N).”

            (Y/N) pulled out the other short one and smiled. “It’s you and me, Kusuo.”

            “Next is Chiyo,” said Toritsuka. He looked urgently at the middle one, and Chiyo pulled it out.

            “I got a long one,” said Yumehara, smiling.

            “My turn,” said Toritsuka. He knew which one to choose to get to walk with Makino and eagerly pulled it out. His eyes widened. It was another long one. “Wha—” Toritsuka looked at Saiki.

            “You were getting on my nerves, so I switched them,” said Saiki directly to Toritsuka’s mind.

            “That was you, wasn’t it?” said (Y/N).

            “I think he deserved it,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) chuckled, and Saiki found any flitting bit of remorse or pity he had go out the window at the lovely sound of their laugh.

            “Alright, Chiyo and I will go in first…” said Toritsuka, depressed.

            “Yeah…” Chiyo was equally gloomy.

            Makino began to chant for their safety while they walked into the woods, and Kaidou cowered near a tree nervously. (Y/N) and Saiki just watched.

            “So, what’s going on?” asked (Y/N).

            “They’ve abandoned their crushes and decided to like one another,” said Saiki.

            “That’s sudden,” said (Y/N), blinking.

            “Is it so easy for people’s feelings to change?” Saiki didn’t think so since his own were so steadily pointed towards (Y/N), never straying. But he was different, and although he didn’t care about what Toritsuka and Yumehara did, he wanted to understand if (Y/N) was also changeable (even if he didn’t know what their feelings towards him were).

            “When it’s not a really strong attachment and surface-level, yeah,” said (Y/N). They smiled at him. “But if it’s a deep affection, then no. Real love is constant.”

            Love. (Y/N) and Saiki both fell silent as soon as that word settled in the air.

            (Y/N) had never said that word or even thought it, but now that it was there, it felt true. It felt right. Their feelings for Saiki were constant and deep. They never faltered, and even through his flaws, they still cared. They accepted Saiki for who he was completely, and they never had their feelings waver. (Y/N) loved Saiki.

            Saiki blinked as he thought over the word. He knew what love felt like. He felt it for his mom and dad, for his grandma and grandma, and even, occasionally, for his brother. But that was familial. What (Y/N) spoke of was romantic. And he had to admit, it made sense. It felt…correct. He wanted to be around (Y/N). Their company was calming, never a hassle or a hindrance. He sought them out. He loved every quality they displayed, never ceasing to be amazed by their kindness whether it was aimed at him or others. He was thankful for their patience and understanding when he was rough and cold to others and hid his powers. He never wanted to lose what he had with them. But he also felt that his own feelings wouldn’t be lost. Saiki loved (Y/N).

l

            Pausing outside of (Y/N)’s house, Saiki took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure why, this was just hanging out with (Y/N), he did it all the time. However, this felt…different. He supposed it had to do with his realization—he loved (Y/N). Still, Saiki refused to let the intimidating grandness of that word scare him away from being friends with (Y/N). Besides, he had suffered his entire summer with idiots, he wanted to enjoy himself with (Y/N).

            He rang the doorbell, and a few moments later, (Y/N) opened the door. They wore a pink apron—dusted with flour and sugar from years of baking—and a wide smile.

            “Hi, Kusuo! Welcome!” said (Y/N), letting him in. “I’m almost finishing preparing everything, but the movie’s set up if you want to wait on the couch.”

            Saiki nodded and held up the cardboard in his hand. “I brought chocolate-covered strawberries.”

            (Y/N)’s face lit up. “I love strawberries! Thanks, Kusuo.” They laughed and closed the door as they walked farther in. “But I am surprised you didn’t buy coffee jelly.”

            “I know you like strawberries,” said Saiki. He’d chosen it for them.

            “It’s sweet of you to think of me,” said (Y/N), ducking their head and turning away so Saiki wouldn’t see their blush. “And if you had gotten coffee jelly—” they turned back around with a tray in their hands “—we would’ve had too much.”

            Saiki stared with joy in his eyes at the tray of coffee jelly, and (Y/N) laughed at his excitement. “We both thought of each other,” they said, putting the tray down on the coffee table in front of the couch.

            “We did,” said Saiki, simultaneously honored by the care with which (Y/N) had put together the coffee jelly and ashamed he hadn’t put more work into his gift for (Y/N).

            But then they sat down, apron off, eagerly opened the box of strawberries, and bit into one. Humming in delight, (Y/N) smiled with sparkles around them. All of Saiki’s doubts went out the window. He had made them happy. That was what mattered. (But he wanted to do better, make them happier, acknowledge he cared for them).

            “Delicious,” said (Y/N), grinning.

            Saiki could only stare at their smile before nodding and taking a bite of their coffee jelly. His slight smile as he ate it was all the compliment to their talents (Y/N) needed.

            “Do you want to start the movie?” asked (Y/N).

            Saiki nodded.

            “Get ready, this is important education for you,” said (Y/N), settling back in their seat beside Saiki and pressing play on Pride and Prejudice. “And if you like this, we’re watching the BBC series.” They smiled at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll bribe you with more sweets.” (Y/N) just wanted to spend time with Saiki, peaceful and quiet. Domestic. Loving.

            Saiki didn’t say it out loud, but he had to admit that he didn’t need sweets to keep him around (Y/N). His love was that deep.

l

            “I love that movie,” sighed (Y/N) as the film ended. They popped the last strawberry into their mouth. “What did you think?”

            “It was nice,” said Saiki. Since he couldn’t read (Y/N)’s mind, he hadn’t gotten spoiled. “I liked Lizzie and Mr. Darcy. They made a good couple.” Much less silly than my parents for sure.

            (Y/N) grinned. “That’s what I think! What was your favorite part?’

            Saiki paused and considered. “I liked when Lizzie spoke to Wickham after finding out the truth. She was clever and made her point.”

            “I thought you’d like her wit since you’re so sarcastic,” chuckled (Y/N).

            “What did you like?” asked Saiki.

            “I like the whole thing, but my favorite part is that they change for the better.” They beamed. “Lizzie and Darcy acknowledge their faults and become better people. I think that’s great and super healthy. I try to do that as much as possible, too.”

            “You are a good person,” said Saiki, completely honest. “You’re nicer than me and everyone else.”

            “That’s sweet, Kusuo, but that doesn’t mean I can’t improve. Everyone has flaws, but that’s okay. We’re supposed to grow,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “…What a nice notion,” said Saiki, mulling the idea over. Changing for the better, growing as a person… “How do you do that?”

            (Y/N) patted his shoulder. “You don’t need to worry. For all your grumpiness, you’re a really good person. You help out your friends, keep them in line when they’re about to do something stupid, and are always looking out for others even when you claim they’re just annoyances.”

            “They are,” said Saiki.

            “Sure, but you could be way meaner. But you choose not to be,” said (Y/N). “Because you’re a good person.” They laughed. “And I know that for a fact because I wouldn’t hang out with anyone who was mean to others.”

            Saiki’s gaze softened as he looked at them. They thought so highly of him…His heart warmed at the care and affection in their voice. Saiki reached up and touched the hand on his shoulder.

            (Y/N) looked at him and blinked. Their laughter died away as they saw the look in his eyes they couldn’t quite read. “Kusuo?”

            “You’re too kind to me. I don’t tell you that I’m glad to have you as my friend, I barely do anything for you, but you’re still kind. To me. To everyone. I think that makes you the best person I know,” said Saiki.

            Shocked and flustered by the speech, (Y/N) turned pink. “I—uh—wow.” They looked at him a little shyly. “Thank you. But really, Kusuo, you don’t need to say all that. I know you’re my friend, and I know you like being my friend, too. I don’t doubt that. You don’t need to force yourself to be so vocal if that’s not your way of showing your friendship.” They leaned into his touch slightly, their fingers twining with his.

            “I’m speaking because it’s true,” said Saiki. “I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t.” His hand settled around theirs and lifted it. He held it, not letting go, and looked at them. “You’re…You’re someone I care about. Someone that makes my days better. I don’t show it as much as you deserve, but—"

            Beep! Beep!

            The alarm of the oven went off, and (Y/N) and Saiki jolted apart in shock. Their hands fell apart.

            “Oh, crap, the cookies I put in!” cried (Y/N), jumping up and running over before smoke tried to escape and set off the fire alarm.

            Saiki stared at the hand that had been holding theirs and then looked back up at them. Something had almost happened. Something was about to be said. They had gotten so close to something changing between them.

            And sweets, of all things, had betrayed Saiki.

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#a not so disastrous romance #x reader #gn reader #nb reader #x gn reader #x nb reader #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #saiki kusou no psi nan #saiki x reader #saiki k #kusuo saiki #saiki #saiki kusuo #saiki no psi nan #saiki kusuo x reader #kusuo x reader #the disastrous life of saiki k #the disastrous life of saiki k. #tdlosk

[felizusnavidad]

the feminine urge to quit my job, start a new life

#seriously thinking about my job makes me feel sick #i fucking hate it and i need change #i was supposed to quit and then i got promoted??? #i didnt want this????? #everyone around me tells me to at least try here but i dont feel like trying i wanna quit #ugh #i seriously hate my life #but sincerely can you hear me?*

[simcardiac-arrested]

once again sorry to everyone for bringing this to your dashboards. but some of you are like, genuinely delirious. not even in a funny way. & i hope you die. i hope we both die. hand in unlovable hand etc etc

#Just so fucking bizarre to me how people can be Like This. there has to be something so wrong with your brain on a fundamental level #i can’t even laugh about this or anything because i genuinely feel pity for these people. it’s so sad to me how you’re gonna be like 20 #and then go in a niche tumblr community and create drama over Nothing. over Thin Fucking Air #like do you not have a life? do you not have college? or a job? doesn’t it get tiring? don’t you ever feel ashamed about all this #and the fact that they go and complain about the shipping and the ‘fandombrained’ people as well…. oh my god #how are you going to be TWENTY. and DO THAT. are you seriously sick. ? do you need help #just say you are homophobic and that you hate kids and go. it’ll save everyone a bunch of time for sure #anyways. as someone who has been a rain world fan since 2018. i love you embracing canon. i love you changing canon. i love you disregarding #canon entirely. i love you ships that make sense in canon & that make absolutely zero sense at all. i love you fancharacters that don’t #follow canon rules. i love you ‘cringe’ fancharacters and self inserts. i love you self shipping. i love you oc x canon shipping. #and i love you taking inspiration from designs. i love you community & i love you artists & i love you art #i love you borrowing elements and being inspired and referencing something because you liked it. #are fandoms perfect? GOOD GOD no. is every Fan perfect? no. am i also sometimes annoyed or irrationally pissed off over a ship that #i think is stupid and is illogical. Yes! i’m only human! but i can still love and appreciate the whole CREATIVITY of it all. and the whole #Fun that people are having. i love you having fun. if i don’t like it or if anyone else doesn’t like it they can just Cope #instead of hateposting about it on main and indirectly bullying people who are most likely children. or lgbt. or both #anyways. please continue doing whatever you want. The world is your oyster and you only live on earth once #everyone else can fuck off

[fingertipsmp3]

Okay, anyone else on SSRIs: is it normal to suddenly feel a little bit stupid all the time

#i just feel like i’m forgetful and spacy all of a sudden. and sometimes this feeling comes over me that is not unlike the feeling i used to #get when i smoked tons of weed. just without the dry eyes and hunger #so really just the feeling of having a thick head and the feeling that i am essentially personifying this emoji: 😵‍💫 #it just makes me a little dumb… it makes me say stupid things and forget basic stuff like when pilates ends #mind you i’ve been going to pilates since september and it always ends at the same time and i’ve never forgotten before #there’s a part of me that’s like… was i smarter before? i’m sure i had better clarity before i started citalopram #i mean i’ve always been bad at communicating but i’ve never been as disorganised as i’ve become #i’m definitely less anxious though. i mean i still don’t enjoy stuff like job interviews but i didn’t have a panic attack today #or feel physically sick or anything. i just got very sweaty and didn’t want to go lol #i think that was mostly the beta blockers that helped with that. i definitely find that citalopram and propanolol combined #makes me a bit more rubbish cognitively and also makes me Very prone to sweating profusely and having a dry mouth #but it calms me down. so?? decent trade-off i guess???? #anyway i’m going to stay on it and see how things go. i haven’t had anything seriously bad happen to me #i mean having my iq reduced by about 20 points is probably worth being less freaked out by anything and everything #personal

[finalgirlmoment]

Noteworthy details about the first two PJOTV episodes (spoilers)

First of all, every single of them ATE DOWN. just wanted to throw that out there, i'm so so impressed with the cast, everyone was perfect and gorgeous and i'm completely sat for any and all future installments. A fine piece of media. Let's begin.

Percy's confusion and bewilderment finding out that he's a demigod. "You fell in love with God.... like, Jesus????" LMFAO but seriously his frustration in this moment, thinking there's something actually wrong with his brain, feeling lost and confused and hurt and BROKEN. the struggle in that moment is so relatable to people discovering they have some sort of mental illness or neurodivergence, especially when they weren't believed/listened to etc and i think walker played this part beautifully

GROVER AND PERCY PLAYING MYTHOMAGIC TOGETHER. GROVER AND PERCY PLAYING MYTHOMAGIC TO TRAIN PERCY. I AM LITERALLY SCREAMING OFF ROOFTOPS THE IMPLICATIONS THAT THIS HAS???? ARE YOU ACTUALLY JOKING??????? IMAGINE SEASON 3 PERCY FINDS NICO AND THEY HAVE THIS IN COMMON???????????!?!?!?!?!? FEELING SEVERELY FRANTIC AND MASSIVELY UNWELL ABOUT THIS

luke's empathy towards Percy throughout-- his apologies for what happened to his mother at the bottom of Half Blood Hill, him telling P that he relates to the nightmares, the restlessness, the ADHD..... so fucking sick and fucking twisted, I will be sobbing at the ending, gorgeous job on both ends on making this relationship feel very warm and authentic and the trust starting to build. this will H U R T.

CLARISSE. she's so gorgeous and vindictive. Her beauty took me off guard initially, but she's such a spiteful little badass that I completely fell in love with her. I CANNOT WAIT to see more of her characterization, especially into season two. perfection.

Percy burning the blue jelly beans- the thing he'd miss most- out in the middle of the woods at night in a damn can, just to pray to his MOTHER. *sobbing intensifies* i couldn't ask for a more sweet, heartfelt, honest moment. the perfect addition. 10s across the board

Percy's ANGER. OH BOY this was one of my most favorite parts. I feel like we see Percy as a very happy-go-lucky kid altogether but I loved, LOVED to see his frustration and agitation from the very beginning. Everything is so confusing and foreign and all he knows is that 1. he's been betrayed or left behind by everyone he knows and 2. he's been ignored his whole life by his godly parent. His mission is to MAKE HIS DAD SEE PERCY, at ANY COST. Before he even knows who his dad is. He is entitled to feel ALL of this anger and hurt and resentment!!!!!!!

Annabeth calling Percy "sunshine". TOTAL CULTURAL RESET. I gasped. The dawn of a new age of Percabeth. I will be screaming into my pillow about this for the foreseeable future.

The entire characterization of Percy throughout the capture the flag scene. His contrast of being just a kid- flossing (lol), peeing the woods, petting a gecko, just vibing and hanging out VS. being thrown suddenly into attack from his peers that don't care about the rules, surprising himself and everyone around him with his finesse in battle, quick instincts, swordsmanship..... i'm weak fr. I can't wait to see him grow, train, become stronger and more confident.

Overall, I'm entirely floored and beyond happy. I can't wait to see more. 10/10

#percy jackson #pjotv #pjotv spoilers #percy jackson spoilers #percabeth #walker scobell #annabeth chase #leah sava jeffries #grover underwood #clarisse la rue #luke castellan #brain so rotted its unspeakable #good lord #THE ADAPATION WE DESERVE #please dm me if u want to talk more im foaming at the damn mouth

[bettysupremacy]

hi love ! could you write a fluff!rafe where the reader is a workaholic and ends up getting a cold and rafe takes care of her? 💌🍄

my boyfriend!!!!!!!

“I need to go in today.”

You gaze at Rafe, who returns your stare. It feels futile, yet you persist. You try to sit up, pulling the covers off your legs, but retreat under them when the overhead fan reaches. A dull ache permeates your body. The cold seeps into you, but the blanket is suffocating. Your body feels warm, but the air is biting.

You concede. “Nevermind.”

“Yeah.” Rafe moves to help you gently, he’s fixing the blanket.

“It’s fine.”

“Seriously,” Rafe warns suddenly. “I’m gonna make you cut your shifts down.”

“But-“

“No, this is a ‘I want to pass the time’ job, and you’re treating it like you’re employee of the month.” He’s annoyed, with you surely. “Shit, are you employee of the month?”

You frown, ignoring his question. He’s right. Though, he usually is. He already provides for you through the big money of the company his father passed down, you just don’t wanna be bored. You don’t want to contribute nothing, and you’re treating it like there’s rent to pay and mouths to feed. Well, there is, but not in the demand you

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he huffs. “I just can’t stand seeing you like this.”

“I know.”

He helps you sit, moving the pillows behind you. Your chest feels fuzzy and so do your eyes. Dully, your nausea makes you cough.

“I’m nauseous.” You tell him.

“Jeez.” He murmurs, his eyes round and concerned. “You want zofran?”

“Yes.” You whisper.

Tears pool in your eyes as he sits up, collecting at your eyelashes as you try to blink them away. You bring your hand to swipe at them, sniffling. Rafe’s brain lags.

“What?” He asks, kneeling down again, hands in desperate search of your face. “Baby, what?”

“I’m embarrassed.” You cry.

“Why?” His rough hands swipe at your tears gently. “Everyone gets sick.”

You turn away from him,

“If this is about me being upset earlier, I swear it wasn’t at you.” He stresses. “I-I had a bad day, and seeing you’ve succumbed to illness makes me sad.”

You giggle wetly. “Succumbed to illness.”

He beams proudly. “I knew that would get a laugh.”

You smile up at him, fever working through your veins slowly. You shake again miserably, working yourself up into a fit of fat tears. They roll down the hills of your cheek heavily, pooling under your chin. You blink out three at once and Rafe nearly has a conniption. Why are you crying?

“It’s not.”

He works his hand over your hair, gently, but not cautiously. “Then what?” He pleads. “Help me understand.”

“I just love you.”

“You’re crying because you love me?”

“I don’t feel good.” You correct.

“You don’t feel good?”

“And I love you,” You admit. “but you’re here,” You moan. “seeing me like this, and you’re so pretty.”

He laughs, quickly recovering to a sympathetic face when you frown at him.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He soothes, lips near your ear. “Sometimes I look at you and I want to cry.”

“But you never do.” You wallow.

“Have you ever seen me cry?”

“Once.”

“Forget that.” He grimaces. “The point is, you’re stressed and sick.”

“I don’t see the point.” You murmur.

“You’re vulnerable right now, to your.. feelings. If I were sick, and stressed, and I saw you, I think I might cry too.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“Did the people cry when the angels came down in the Bible?”

“Did the angels.. come down?” You ask. “I’ve never read it.”

“I’m not sure.”

You laugh. “Maybe we should ask Scar.”

“Scar?”

“She’s smart.”

“I think she’s Jewish.”

“So?”

“Different book, my love.”

“Duh, I’m not that sick.” You laugh. It drips with sticky sticky cough syrup. “But still, she’s smart, maybe she’ll know.”

Rafe sighs lovingly. “Maybe. We got off track.”

“We always do.”

Rafe snorts. “You’re feeling better.”

“Get on track.”

“I don’t remember the point I was making with angels.”

You laugh, tilting your head up to look at him. “You’re useless.”

“Abominable girl.” He chastises, sitting up anyways.

“Go get me medicine.” You’re smiling. “Useless, useless doctor.”

#He’s so nice #he’s my boyfriend #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe fluff #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader fluff #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fluff #rafe x y/n #rafe obx #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #outerbanks fanfiction #outerbanks blurb #outerbanks fic #outerbanks fluff

[sleepy-kuroo]

and i want it back, i want the old me.

Miguel O’Hara x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1072

A/N: Prequel to this. Angst, implied!established relationship, argument. Will not be doing another part so please don’t ask.

You storm into Miguel’s office, furious after having caught wind from Peter B. and Gwen about the chase with Miles. You were away on a separate mission at the time and weren’t there for the whole ordeal but you heard the general gist from your two friends. It’s dark in Miguel’s office as he stands atop his platform, staring at his monitors with his back turned as usual. “Miguel!” You yell, anger spilling out of every pore of your body.

Miguel simply sighs in annoyance at hearing your voice, turning around in obvious frustration. “Whatever you’re going to say…just don’t,” he threatens, his voice bitter and exhausted.

“Don’t?! DON’T?!” you laugh, outraged at his words and the audacity to dismiss you. “Tell me Miguel…what exactly went through your mind as you violently chased a 15 year old boy and told him he was a mistake?!” You were shaking at this point, voice trembling as you let out all your rage towards the man above you.

“He’s not supposed to be Spider-Man, he’s an anomaly! A threat to his universe!” Miguel raises his voice, dripping with anger.

“And you think he asked for this? You think he asked to be bitten by some spider that was never supposed to be in his universe? There has got to be a better way of handling this than by treating him like some monster.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!” Miguel bursts, jumping off his platform to loom over your form. He gets close to your face, baring his fangs and eyes red with fury. “Don’t lecture me when I’m the only one keeping things together. I’ll be damned if I let some stupid kid ruin it all.”

You flinch slightly, his large stature appearing very threatening. Nonetheless, you glare back at Miguel, refusing to step down. “I understand how important your job is but this is not the way to do it,” you say, clenching your jaw. “I know you’re angry at Miles but of course he’s going to want to save his dad. He shouldn’t be punished for that.”

“Being Spider-Man is about making sacrifices.” Miguel begins to lecture. “And if he can’t accept that then he puts his whole universe at risk.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, looking around in disbelief at his words. You cross your arms and tilt your head at him. “Is that all you think being Spider-Man is about? Deal with sacrifices and just accept that?! Have you really forgotten why we do what we’re supposed to do?” You yell, waving your finger back and forth between him and yourself.

“Save me your useless lecture and just stay out of the way (Y/n),” Miguel rolls his eyes, moving to turn away from you.

“No Miguel, I’m sick and tired of you never taking me seriously,” you quip, webbing his feet to the ground. You move to stand in front of him again, maintaining eye contact. “None of us chose to be Spider-Man, okay? Yes our lives are hard and yes we lose so many people but the point of us is that we keep going. We keep fighting and keep helping as many people as we can because we have the power to do so. Miles believes he can save his father and his universe so of course he’s going to try to do that. Of course he’s going to go against all odds that it doesn’t work because despite it all, he knows that if there’s even the slightest chance he can save both then he has to try.”

Miguel glares at you with a pointed glare before moving his face close to yours. “And that’s what’s going to get him and everyone in his world killed. You can either help me stop him or get out of my way,” he threatens, voice barely above a whisper. You don’t say anything, maintaining eye contact. You can feel his breath on your face with how close he is and part of you can’t help but flicker your gaze to his lips. Miguel notices this and smirks, standing up straight and breaking out of your webs with ease. He goes to wrap his arms around you. “Come on (Y/n), let’s go-”

You move out his grasp and shake your head in frustration. Miguel is slightly surprised, you’ve never rejected his affections before. “You're not going to change your mind, are you?” you ask, looking down at the ground. You already know his answer but you’re struggling with the decision you now have to make.

“I can't.” Miguel replies curtly, observing your body language. He sees how tense your shoulders are and how you turn away from him after his answer.

“Then I quit,” you sigh, looking over your shoulder at him. You can’t see him but you can hear the fabric of his suit as he clenches his fists and his small grunt of frustration.

“Are you serious?” Miguel growls, eyes red as he looks at you. You two have known each other for years and the last thing he needs is your betrayal.

You turn and face him, nodding your head. You look at Miguel up and down and frown. He barely even looks like a hero with the way he’s looking at you, as though you were some horrible villain. “I can’t support what you’re doing.”

Miguel sneers at you and his breathing gets heavier with frustration as he grumbles. “I should have never wasted my time on you.” 

You feel your heart break as he says this, memories of all the time you’ve spent together flooding your head. The times where he used to look at you with so much love and now you can't find a trace of that in him. You feel tears of both anger and sorrow build up as you watch him go back to his platform. 

You open a portal with the device on your wrist, preparing to go in before you look at him one last time. “Goodbye Miguel,” you spoke, one last time.

Miguel grimaces and doesn’t even look back at you as he scoffs. “I don’t ever want to see your face again.”

You feel a tear fall down your cheek as you sigh. You take the device off your wrist and throw it to the ground, hearing it clatter as you walk through the portal.

The portal closes. Miguel is left alone in silence, the smallest mix of doubt and regret planted in his chest.

______________________________________________________________

Tags: @anidiotwhoreads

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara angst

[megamindsecretlair]

Mr. Black, Part 1

Pairing: Tre x Assistant!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (fem receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, dumbass reader, degradation kink, power imbalance, Tre is a boss, all consensual.

Summary: Tre is sick and tired of the countless mistakes you make while performing your work duties. You were recently hired and just trying to do your best, but nothing is ever good enough for him.

Word Count: 4,099k

A/N: Listen, Idk what happened. He's barely in 2 mins of the film and it broke my brain. That outfit and that smile was too much for me to handle! Idk how many parts this will be. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed

Tagging the usual lovelies, please tell me if you want to be removed: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @blackerthings @sevikasblackgf @henneseyhoe @miyahmaraj

Shit! He was going to kill you. You whined as the numbers swam in your vision. You desperately looked between two invoices, wondering how you were going to solve this before he found out. 

Your leg bounced as your nerves unraveled the longer you stared at the documents. Shit! You were done for. Your stupid little job was over before you had even gotten started. Your bottom lip quivered. There was no way you were going to recover from this.

Tre’s heavy footsteps pounded the carpet on approach and your heart dropped into your stomach. Shit! 

You pushed the papers on your desk into one huge pile that you’ll painstakingly unravel in the safety of your home. You tapped a few keys on the computer, trying to look busy. He did not need to know that you had been staring at your egregious mistake for the past half hour. 

“Do you have that report I told you to do?” Tre asked, once he reached his office. 

“Yes, Sir,” you said. You gave him a dumb ass, goofy smile. You handed over the report in a yellow folder. He snatched it from you, not sparing you a glance, and stalked into the office. The door slam made you flinch. 

You weren’t even sure why you stuck around this job. You were recently hired to help with the background work stuff while people all around you were getting fired. Tre had been leading that charge. 

Ever since you got hired, you wondered if he hated you. He barely said anything to you except to insult your hard work. Look, the workforce was hard, okay? There’s a lot of shit that school or life doesn’t teach you. More often than not, you had to hide your scrolling on Youtube for any kind of help. 

Even when he was in a good mood, flashing those pearly whites and that sinful smile, it immediately froze whenever you entered the room. Your good mood would evaporate and then you were falling all over yourself trying to correct whatever the issue was.

His coffee was too cold, too black, too sweet. His blinds were up too high and he had a nasty glare. This report was wrong, that report was wrong. No, this wasn’t the one he wanted. Yes, this was the one he wanted. Run out and get some lunch. Well, you took too long, I don’t want it anymore. 

It was exhausting working for the man, but some part of you wanted a crumb of his praise. Just a crumb. You could survive off of it. You knew you sounded pathetic. Your friends and family were getting sick of you complaining about the man. 

Your best friend sort of got it. You snuck a picture of Tre one day and showed her. She nearly fell off of your couch when she saw him.

“This? This is your boss?” 

Yes, he is seriously your boss. And he was a fucking asshole. Who else would feel absolutely nothing about firing people a few days before Christmas? Christmas! It was your favorite holiday and just thinking about all the tiny traditions made you so giddy, your heart flipped.

Person after person, box after box, floated by your desk looking absolutely miserable. You watched their tortured faces and your heart hurt thinking that all their years of service fit into one tiny box. The tinsel and ornaments decorating the office seemed like cruel mocking reminders that there would be no Christmas cheer for them. 

“Get in here, now!” You jerked out of your seat. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The intercom flashed red and then turned off. You hated that damn box. Whatever happened to sending a chat? Way less intrusive and easier on your nerves.

You stood up with your heart racing. The pulse in your neck thumped so painfully, you placed your hand there to try and steady it. Realistically, you didn’t have to tell him about the mistake right now. You just needed a chance to find out what you did wrong.

You smoothed your checkered skirt suit, wiping your sweaty palms on the thick material. El Segundo didn’t get that cold, but the mornings were brutal. 

You bit your lip as you approached his office door. You opened it. Tre stood over his desk, one hand on his hip and a paper in his hand. It had to be the report he asked for. You assumed that since it was so late in the evening, that he’d read it first thing in the morning. You had hoped to leave here with a little hope. Not defeated like the past few nights, still not living up to his impossible standards.

All things considered, he was damn delicious. His favorite aesthetic was black. Black shirts, jackets, pants, shoes. The only hint of color on him were his gold chains and glasses. His thick beard complimented his facial structure beautifully. It was an odd mix being both attracted to and afraid of your boss. 

“Close the door,” he said. 

You followed his command. Shit. You were really in it. Was it your report he was reading? Or did he magically glean that you royally fucked up a fifteen million dollar contract? 

Your stomach roiled. You were going to be fucking sick. 

You approached the front of his desk like a deer in headlights. There was no room for you to maneuver. It was you, the headlights, and inevitable death. Shit, would you go to jail over something like this? 

You twisted your fingers as you stood there and waited for him to acknowledge you. He gave a long sigh and then put the paper down. 

“Come here,” he said. His tone was so disrespectful and biting. It was insulting coming from such a pretty man with a soft, ungodly voice. 

You rounded his giant desk and stood beside him. He was so huge. Thick muscles bunching the confines of his black suit jacket. You gulped and glanced down. He was looking at your report.

“What does this say?” He asked and pointed to a sentence.

“Due to the natre, er, nature, of the findngs.” Shit. This thing had so many damn typos in it. You typed the damn thing up, distracted, watching all of the people you never got to know walk out of here. Their faces haunted you day in and day out. You shouldn’t care, but well, here you were. 

If he had done this at any other time, maybe it wouldn’t have affected you so much. If he fired people around, say…St. Patrick’s Day, then at least people would have an excuse to hide their inevitable drinking. 

You looked into Tre’s eyes, an apology ready on your lips, but he was fuming. He was usually so calm and collected, firing people with an ice cold exterior. To see so much passion in him now…you were in deep shit. Without a paddle.

He reached across his desk and plucked out a red pen. “I want you to sit here and highlight all of the mistakes you made. And you better find them all,” he said. 

Your shaking hand reached out for the pen. He held it away. “All of them.”

He held out the pen once more and you took it. Tre sat down in his chair and motioned for you to proceed. You spied the chair on the other side of the desk, but you didn’t get the sense that you were allowed to get comfortable while you did this.

You licked your dry lips and leaned over slightly. Page by page, you hunted your mistakes with the red pen. You circled all of the typos you made. Good god, there were so many of them.

Tre sat like a silent specter. His disapproving eyes burned your back as you searched the document. At the end, you were appalled that you let so many slip through. The fuck was wrong with you? 

“Count them,” he said. 

Shit, shit. You couldn’t handle this fucking stress. “I am so sorry–”

“Count. Them.” You glanced at him. Besides the fire in his eyes, he seemed calm and a little disinterested. Like he was already bored of this shit and wanted you to hurry up.

You took a deep breath. He was only a man. You needed this stupid fucking job, but you will not be treated like this for much longer. Fuck his praise. And fuck him. No man, no job was worth this bullshit. You were going to find a nice quiet job somewhere. 

You counted the circles. Like bubbles of misery. “Twenty-four,” you said. At least your voice was strong, giving no hint to your frazzled nerves. Though, the more you thought about it, the less nervous you felt. You were so going to type up your two weeks notice tonight. Fuck this cheerless company. 

“Do you have any clue what it’s like trying to do my job but all I can focus on is your shitty ass mistakes? A toddler can type better than you,” he said. 

You gasped. Such a fucking asshole. “Everyone makes mistakes,” you pointed out. For fuck’s sake, you weren’t decoding international secrets. The occasional, okay this instance many, typos should not warrant a trip to the principal’s office. 

“I spend more time correcting your mistakes than trying to turn this company around. The least you can do is be a competent assistant. Your job is to assist,” he said. 

“All you can see is my mistakes instead of all the other shit that I do!” You fired back. Shit. His eyes narrowed and you swallowed, but you weren’t going to hold back. Whether you quit or got fired, you were saying goodbye to him so what the hell did anything matter? 

“I bend over backwards to do everything for you! Do you know how many times I’ve had to fix my nails as I run around here doing everything that pops into that meaty ass head of yours? Fix your computer, get you coffee, charge your fucking phone. I was hired to do assistant work, not become your personal maid. The least you can do is treat me with some fucking respect!” 

A weight lifted from your chest. You took deep, heaving breaths and felt lighter than you ever had. Even before taking this soul sucking job. 

“Bend over,” he said quietly.

“What?” You asked.

Tre stood to his full height. Not quite reaching six feet, but close enough. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and then slipped it off, revealing a black, long sleeved shirt. He rolled up the cuffs.

“I’m spank that tight ass you keep taunting me with for every mistake you have on that report,” he said.

Whoa, what? “Did you not hear what I said?” You asked. You watched as inches of his forearm were revealed. Shit, this shouldn’t be so hot. But it was. Your mouth ran dry for entirely different reasons.

“Every word. Bend. Over. It’s a simple instruction to follow,” he said. The sleeves were at his elbow now. 

You barely thought about it. You bent over the desk, breasts pressing into the coolness of his desk. You felt him slide behind you. His thick hands rubbed over the fabric of your dress. He squeezed the fleshiness of your ass and you softly huffed. 

“Count out every mistake,” he said.

Smack! Red hot fire bloomed on your right ass cheek. “What the fuck,” you gasped.

“Count it, or we start over,” he said.

“One,” you immediately said. Was this really happening? 

Smack! Shit, it really was. “Two,” you gasped again, trying to fight off a moan. Your pussy ached with each subsequent hit. And he was not going easy on you. Each smack was severe, making you reach up on tiptoes to escape it. 

He wouldn’t let you. His hand found your ass in any way you had it displayed for him. No two smacks were similar. Some were harder than others. He never hit the same spot twice. Your ass was a mosaic of pain. Heat bloomed in tiny flickers. There was no way you were going to sit down after this.

“Fifteen,” you ground out. Your ass sought his hands, relished each smack he delivered. Your mind turned blissfully fuzzy. Nerves melting away until it was a tiny puddle at your feet. Fuck. You were so turned on and your panties were ruined. Soaked. 

Your clit throbbed in time with the flickering heat on your ass. And he continued to smack it. Your ass jiggled after each one. Your feet scrambled for purchase. 

“Twenty-two,” you cried out. Tears gathered in  your eyes. 

The final two smacks to your ass were the worst ones. He had been hiding that strength this entire time. He smacked you like he was truly punishing you for all of the mistakes on the report. You shuddered to think what he would do when he found out about the contract. 

He had maintained a professional demeanor throughout it all. He hadn’t spoken, except with soft grunts as the force of his smacks met your ass. He rubbed your booty and you moaned from the white hot pain. How the hell were you going to get home after this? 

Tre lowered the zipper on the back of your dress and you whimpered. What more could he fucking do right now?

The answer to that was swift as he pushed the edge of your skirt up and over your wide hips. He groaned with a soft, “fuck”, as he revealed your racy black panties. The lace was sheer with tiny flower designs woven into it. 

“I knew hiring you was a fucking mistake. Can’t even focus on shit around here,” he said. Though it seemed like he was talking to himself. 

“I thought you hated me,” you whispered. You wiped the wayward tears from your face. 

“You and these fucking outfits,” he answered back. He rolled your panties off of your damp pussy. He bent with it, so his breath trailed the back of your thighs and legs. He kissed his way back up. Plump lips placed soft kisses to your thighs and ass. Pain bloomed from his recent spanking and you moaned and moved away. He straightened and pulled your hips back. 

He smacked your bare ass this time. The wet sound was loud and lewd. You prayed that everyone was gone for the day. There was no way that these flimsy ass walls had good sound proofing. 

“Fuuuuuck,” you moaned out.

“That’s for being such a fuckin’ tease,” he said. His hands left you, going to his own fly as you heard the zipper and the frantic huffs as he hurried to free himself. 

“I wasn’t–”

“You know you were. Bending over every chance you got. Smiling every time I fuckin’ saw you. Wearing these outfits you know are not professional,” he said. 

He settled back behind you, groaning as you assumed he pumped himself. Fuck, you wanted to see. You looked back at him. Oh, that was a mistake. His head was thrown back, his arms moving jerkily as he pumped his thick length with his hand. 

Your pussy clenched as you watched him. You bit your lip at the sheer ecstasy on his face. You didn’t want to speak and interrupt him. While it was true that you dressed up a little more than your coworkers, these outfits were appropriate. You didn’t show unnecessary cleavage and your skirts were decent lengths.

Okay, maybe they went a little too high. But you spent most of your time behind a desk, who was really going to notice? It was better than the bland ass, off the rack looks these other girls wore. It was like they all shopped at the same, ugly ass store. Why should you be bland like them?

You were fucking gorgeous. And wearing pretty outfits made you feel beautiful and comfortable. You loved your heels. Why should you keep all that shit in the closet to make basic bitches feel nice? Fuck ‘em.

Tre rubbed the tip of his dick through your wet folds. You nearly buckled. Your knees collapsed and Tre roughly grabbed your hip to make you stand upright. 

You rested your cheek against the cold desk. The coolness helped cool off some of the heat burning through you. You moaned as his tip brushed against your clit. “Please,” you whispered.

“Please what?” He asked.

“Please, fuck me. I need it,” you moaned. God, it had been too fucking long since you got fucked. Not had sex. Got fucked. You had decent situationships in the past. Sure, you had fun. But to get fucked, you needed a certain type of man. 

He grunted as he shoved inside, stretching you completely. You cried out as he pulled back and shoved back in, getting his dick wetter from your juices alone. “Sweet fuck,” he moaned. 

“So fuckin’ wet for me.” He worked himself inside you, pushing into the warm, wet core of you. You were a vice grip on his dick. Welcoming him deeper and more easily with every glide. His fingers dug into your hips. 

“From now on, I’m checking over all of your work. If I catch more typos, that’s your ass,” he said.

How the hell could he expect you to listen when he was buried so deep inside of you, you were pretty sure with one more shove that he would hit your G-spot? You pathetically whimpered as his movements grew slippier. He slid in and out with more ease than before. 

His thrusts turned sharper. Each one shoved you against the desk. The hard plane of the desk shoved into your stomach. The pain was barely a thought. 

“Oh yes, yes,” you moaned.

“Takin’ this dick well,” he moaned. His thrusts increased. Barely giving you time to breathe in between each one. They were powerful and unrelenting. The desk rattled. His thighs pushed into yours, trapping you against the desk as he pounded into you. His hands around your hips were bruising. He had you slightly lifted, so your feet slightly dangled off of the ground. He supported you easily. 

The minimal praise from him made your heart soar and your pussy flutter. “Oh, you like that shit, don’t you?” 

“Uh-huh,” you moaned.

“Tell me you like it then,” he said.

“I like it,” you said.

“Like you mean it,” he said and gave another savage thrust that made you see stars. 

The desk made an intrusive knocking sound in time with his thrusting. That’s how hard he was fucking you. 

“Oh shit, I’m cumming,” you moaned. Your belly flipped as your orgasm built and built.

“Let it go, then,” he said.

You cried and whimpered as you came. 

“Mhm, let it go. Let it go. Mhm, feeling all of that,” he cooed while you came, stars going off like bombs in your weak vision. Your head swam. Your vision winked in and out. You were bliss personified, cumming with a type of euphoria you didn’t know existed.

You squeezed his dick as you came. “Get that shit nice and creamy,” he said. 

He continued to pound into you, fucking any last remnants of your orgasm out of you. He was so hard and thick, sliding in and out and wrenching every little sound he could out of you. 

Wet smacking and the rattle of his thrusts filled the room with a harmony you wanted on repeat forever. You were creamy for him. Needy for him. Needy for the way that he could fuck you stupid and you thanked him for it.

You managed to look back at him. Again, his head was thrown back. The wide expanse of his neck pulsed with a thick vein you wanted to lick. Sweat dripped down into his shirt. His sleeves were still rolled up. He was power and strength. Thick in every sense of the word.

Broad shoulders, soft beard, and those glasses. Good god, you loved those glasses on him. That wide smile of his. His rich, midnight skin. You could spend hours licking every inch of him and it wouldn’t nearly be enough. 

He was lost in you, lost with his dick pumping into you. Watching how you were making him feel, another orgasm built. It climbed its way to the surface, whisking you away to the stars again. Shooting through the universe with nothing to hold you down. Nothing to keep you anchored. You just floated like stardust around the cosmos. 

“Oh fuck, please,” you moaned. You didn’t know what the fuck you were saying. You were mumbling and moaning, unaware of anything but his hands on your hips. His dick inside you. His balls slapping your clit. Your hand moved behind you seeking his body. His thrusts were too much.

You pushed against him. You didn’t want him to stop. Just for him to ease a bit. Your swollen clit was sensitive as hell. You weren’t sure if you had another orgasm in you. It was too soon and his punishing pace was going to literally fuck you stupid in a minute.

“Move that fuckin’ hand before I do,” he spat. 

“But…Sir…” He was fucking the air out of you. You couldn’t breathe. “Fuck, please.” 

True to his word, he grabbed the hand that you were trying to push him away with. Your left hand was twisted behind your back as he leaned forward, deepening his strokes.

It turned harsher, fucking you into the desk. He’d fuck you through it if he could. His moans turned desperate.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he moaned. “Take this nut.”

He groaned as he unleashed his climax inside of you. He filled you with his cum. His dick twitched and pulsed against your spongy walls as his cum was fucked into you. Still he moved, still he pounded into you like he was trying to prove something. 

His hips faltered as he sputtered the last of his cum. He buried himself to the hilt and a shiver ran through him. Your frantic breathing matched his as he slowly pulled out of you.

Fuck! You were fucking sore! A hundred baths wouldn’t soothe this shit. A moment later, his cum slipped out of you and you moaned. Well shit. No condom. Luckily, you were on the pill but still. You shouldn’t be so fucking horny that you didn’t talk about these things.

However, after getting fucked the way you just did, you’d happily accept his cum. Many times over. 

His cum leaked out of you, sliding down your pussy and legs. He groaned, leaned down, and spread your ass cheeks just to watch.

“Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he said. He pushed two fingers inside and you whimpered. He grunted one last time and removed his fingers. 

He grabbed a few tissues off of his desk and started to clean you up. You hissed when he hit a sensitive spot. He kissed your ass and legs as he cleaned up. “So fuckin’ pretty. So fuckin’ beautiful,” he soothed as he cleaned.

You were a shaking mess. Your legs could not support you. He chuckled as he finished. He pulled his pants up first. You heard the slide of his belt buckle. Then, he pulled your panties up to cover your ass. Next, he lowered your skirt and fixed the zipper.

You were too weak to move from your spot. Too weak to stand up and say or do anything. You laid there in amazement. He helped you up and then steadied you while he lowered you into his chair. His chair.

He got to work, righting various knick knacks on his desk. He moved a tiny Christmas snow globe on his desk that you had brought him on the first day. He had raised his eyebrow at you, told you that you couldn’t bribe your way to a good start, and disappeared into his office. You thought he had thrown it away. You were too nervous to notice anything when you came into his office. Just his disapproving eyes and smug smirk. 

He moved the report back into the yellow envelope and closed it. He turned around and rested his ass against the desk. He tapped the file with his long fingers. “Be sure to correct this. We’ll go over it first thing in the morning.”

You glanced at him. “Yes, Sir,” you said with a hoarse voice. Fuck, your throat hurt. Everything hurt. He smirked as if he were reading your thoughts.

Yeah, a merry Christmas to you too, mu’fucker.

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Tre Files #Trevante Rhodes fanfic #Trevante Rhodes fan fic #Trevante Rhodes fanfiction #Trevante Rhodes fan fiction #Candy Cane Lane fanfic #Candy Cane Lane fan fic #Candy Cane Lane fanfiction #Candy Cane Lane fan fiction #Tre x Black!reader #Tre x Black reader #Tre x Fem!reader #Tre x Fem reader #Tre x plus size reader #x Black reader #Tre x Assistant!reader #Tre x assistant reader #Tre x you #Tre x reader #x reader #my writing #Black writers

[beenbaanbuun]

mean yet soft w/ wooyoung

words - don’t ask, i don’t know

genre - fluffy smut

warnings - mean!dom wooyoung, also soft!dom wooyoung, face fucking, spanking, degradation, nicknames, aftercare, hes literally jekyll and hyde

not proofread but i’ll get round to it soon :)

so wooyoung is a little shit, but he isn’t evil

like he’ll tease you until the end of the earth, but the moment you get hurt by his words he’s clung to you like a koala telling you sweet nothings

and if that’s not enough, he’ll go one step beyond sane just to apologise to you

one second you’re pouting and the next he’s buying you flowers and cooking for you as an apology

not that he doesn’t do both of those things anyway

it’s just that when he’s trying to beg for forgiveness, he always goes a little overboard

you won’t be able to move without bumping into a bouquet of flowers, and you’ll actually have to beg for him to stop cooking for you because you’re way too full to eat most of it…

but something in my sick and twisted little brain i like to think that this applies to the bedroom too…

like imagine you’ve just pissed him off a little too much

bratted too close to the sun, if you will

the glare he gives you honestly makes you want to kneel down and beg but he won’t let you

not yet, anyway

because whilst you’ll definitely be knelt down in a second, letting him pound his pretty cock into your slack jaw, he has to make sure it doesn’t hurt you first

“kneel on the pillow for me, princess… that’s it, baby! we don’t want your pretty skin getting bruised, do we?”

and sure enough, there’s a plush pink pillow waiting for you

it’s almost heartwarming, until the second your knees hit the fabric and suddenly there’s a dick in your mouth pumping in and out like there’s no tomorrow

and then when he spanks you, you can guarantee he goes fucking hard

i’m talking trouble sitting down hard

red hand prints for days hard

tears streaming down your cheeks as he makes you count for him hard

and it hurts like fucking HELL and he knows that

but that doesn’t stopping from delivering soft kisses to the sweltering hot skin in between each spank

soothing strokes along your ass to make sure you know he’s not really mad

oh, and don’t get me started on the words he tells you…

he will call you every single name under the sun

bitch, whore, slut, dumb, so on and so forth

“fucking slut,” he spits, punctuating it with an extra hard thrust, “panting for me like a bitch in heat.”

and you are, you can’tdeny that

face pressing into the pillow, tongue sitting pretty on your bottom lip as you gulp in as much air as possible in between thrusts

his beautiful cruel words swim around your dizzy head, but before they even have chance to sink in, he’s letting you know just how much he loves you

“you’re a whore, aren’t you,” he grins as he nuzzles your cheek, “but that just makes me love you all the more. my whore, baby… all mine.”

and then the aftercare?

if you lift a finger, he’s going to place a curse on your entire bloodline because how dare you do his job?

he is supposed to be taking care of you, not you…

“hey, idiot,” he stomps over to the bed where he left you whilst he got water, “i thought i told you to sit still and let me do the work! why are you taking the sheets off?”

“felt dirty, youngie…”

he just rolls his eyes

“let me carry you to the bathroom, okay? i’ll sort the sheets…”

and youd better let him carry you to the toilet and sit you down (because you should be peeing after sex… no uti’s in this household)

if you don’t let him, he’s going to do it anyway

only rather than lifting you up gently, bridal style, you’ll be hoisted over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes

and you can complain as much as you want, but you can’t out-do the doer

you complain about him taking care of you, let him bring out a 40 slide power point about everything you do that annoys him that he’s been saving for this exact moment in time

like seriously, just let him do his job

it makes him feel better about being a dick

#ateez drabbles #ateez headcanons #ateez oneshot #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #wooyoung smut #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung x reader

[widowbitessting]

Baby It's Hot Outside - A Sugar Mommies Drabble

Word Count: 1729

Rating: General with fluffy scenes. SFW!

Summary: The One Where MJ cares for you.

Dom!Natasha Romanoff, Dom!Wanda Maximoff, Dom!Carol Danvers x Sub!Reader

You can’t open the door to your own apartment. It’s your first sign that the headache you’ve had for the past hour might be transforming into a migraine. And it sucks. Pain resonates behind your eyeballs and you have to squint to see where the stupid moving lock is so you can get inside. 

Has it always been so low down? Surely not.

The key finally does its job and you’re allowed inside your own apartment, near collapsing on the floor as you go. 

Definitely too hot today. Seriously too hot. 

It’s your own fault really; your classmate in all her wisdom kept offering you caffeine and you, in all of your wisdom, kept accepting. 

So now you're coming down from the copious amount of caffeine, mix that with the grand total of 0 litres of water you’ve had as well as the sheer heat of the day, and it’s no wonder you feel like your head is going to explode. 

Mistakes have definitely been made. 

You somehow manage to get to your sofa, falling onto the not so soft cushions face first. The sudden dark does a lot to sooth your eyes and you don’t know how long you stay like that, only shifting slightly to breathe, until MJ nb udges your leg with her foot.

“Two people live here, y’know. Move over.”

You don’t even try to form a coherent reply, moving your heavy body like she asks, wrapping yourself up into a ball. The shiver that wrecks through your body trembles the entire sofa and MJ doesn’t seem to notice. She clicks on Netflix and settles with her hot chocolate, completely unaware of your dying state beside her. 

She glances your way when your phone rings, looking at the picture of Wanda as it flashes up on your cell. You don’t even move, eyes squinting shut against the dim light of the living room. For you, they feel like spotlights. 

You shift uncomfortably on the sofa. 

Your phone pings a minute later; a text from Wanda, asking you to call her ASAP, she’s having an icecream emergency - aka: she wants ice cream but Natasha and Carol won’t allow her. 

You know she’s messaged in your group chat because your phone begins to after every few seconds.

Why didn’t you mute your phone? Why?

It doesn’t take long for MJ to let out a frustrated sigh and kick her feet so they’re under her. Her toes tickle your right foot, making you jerk and when you still don’t make a move to check your phone, MJ does it again.

“Dude, answer them or I’m throwing your cell out of the window.”

It takes all of your energy to move, and even then, you misjudge the end of the sofa and almost faceplant the floor. 

With trembling arms, you struggle to hold your upper body weight and here is where MJ finally takes pity on you.

“This is painful, move.”

She snatches your phone for you and goes to pass it when she finally registers your appearance. 

“Woah…you’re not about to die on me are you? I’d have three pissed off women on my case if you do.” 

You shudder. MJ throws your phone aside and lifts you up by your armpits, settling you back on your original position on the sofa. 

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

You can only shake your head. 

“I know this isn’t the time to notice this but that medicated deodorant you’re using really works, you’re bone dry!” MJ lets out a nervous chuckle. “Laugh, Y/N/N. You always laugh at my crappy jokes…even if they are pitiful…get it?” 

You don’t even smile as a response and MJ jumps to her feet.

“Oh my god, you are dying!” 

“...not…dying…sick…”

“You are sick, you feel sick or you’re going to be sick?” 

“...all of the above.” 

MJ falls over herself as she sprints into the kitchen. She returns with the anointed “puke bucket” which is a mixing bowl you had ended up using one time after too many shots. No sooner does she place it near your face, do you start to heave, body jerking gags where you think your stomach is going to come up out of your throat. 

She touches your forehead. 

“You’re burning up. Have you eaten something bad? Drank too much?” 

“...not…” You spit out a wad of saliva. “...enough.”

“You haven’t eaten enough?” Something in MJ’s brain clicks. “Please tell me you’ve been drinking water today, Y/N. Please.” 

You shake your head.

“I’d hit you if you weren’t so fragile. You’ve not drunk anything? Dude! It’s one of the hottest days of the year!” 

“I had…coffee and stuff…” 

You grimace and turn away from the bowl.

“You are actually going to die. They’re going to murder you, you know that? And then turn on me because I’m an unknowing accomplice. You’ve only had coffee all day? Y/N!” 

“Don’t tell them.”

“How can I not? They’re bound to ask where you are! And what if they make a surprise trip to see you? You’re not exactly in a fit shape to fuck right now, are you, Y/N/.”

“MJ -” 

“Fine. If they don’t ask I won’t tell them. Deal?” 

“Okay, deal.”

“Right, you - don’t move. Don’t die. I’ll get you some water and a fan. Or something.”

MJ gets your water first, filling it with ice before rethinking and dumping it down the sink; before stopping again and getting slightly less ice for your glass. 

“I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Now with a full drink, and a straw because why not, MJ places it in front of you with the strict instruction to “Sip it, don’t inhale it.” 

She takes your phone when your head is in the sick bowl and vanishes into her bedroom; unlocking it with your passcode and finding the group chat with your girlfriends. 

“Who’s the least terrifying? Natasha, no chance. Carol, maybe…Wanda…you’ll have to do.”

She picks up on the third ring. 

“Hi baby!”

“Hey to you too.” 

“…MJ?”

“Hi, the one and only.”

“Where’s Y/N? Not that I don’t appreciate talking to you but I’d much prefer to talk to my girlfriend.”

“She’s not…well. I told her I wouldn’t tell you but I’m genuinely worried about her.”

“What’s going on?” Natasha’s voice cuts through your phone speaker and MJ wants nothing more than to throw your phone away and hide under the nearest bed. 

“Michelle Jones, talk.” 

“I hate it when you do that.” MJ grumbles. “Y/N’s sick.”

“Sick, how?”

“God, she’s gonna kill me…erm,” MJ pinches the bridge of her nose. “She didn’t drink any water and I’m 90% sure she spent most of her day outside and it’s been super hot and she’s not well and I’m worried about her…I don’t know what to do.” 

Natasha is silent for a moment. 

“Stay with her. We’ll be there as soon as possible, understood? Let her sip, not inhale, at cool water. Not ice cold, it'll shock her system. Is she hot to the touch?” 

“She’s hot, yeah. And not in her usual way either.” 

“Get a damp cloth, that’ll help cool her off.” Natasha orders. “And MJ? Thank you for telling us.”

“Any…anytime I guess. Not that I want Y/N to get heat stroke or whatever it is again, ‘cos it’s scary and stuff but if she ever misbehaves again, you bet your ass I’ll be right on this phone to rat her out. I’ll even spank her for you if you can't get her fast enough.”

“MJ, breathe girl. Get some oxygen into those lungs. We’ll discuss this at a later date when you aren’t so frazzled. We’ll be there soon, okay? 30 minutes, max.” 

“Okay, yeah, okay. Bye.”

“Damp cloth and cool water, MJ.”

“On it.”

MJ’s hands tremble when she returns to you with the items; a regular glass of water in one hand and a semi filled bowl with a wet cloth in the other. She takes the iced water from you and replaces it; ordering you to sip it slowly while she pats your head with the washcloth. 

You do little to fight her.

“I’m not well, MJ.” 

“I know, Y/N/N, I know. But you’re gonna get better soon, yeah? Just try to relax as much as you can. Google says you should start to feel better in 30 minutes or so.”

She places the washcloth on the back of your neck.

It takes you 23 minutes to feel slightly more human.

It takes 24 minutes for the Trio! to get to your apartment. 

You can only stare as they walk inside, eyes locking onto your slouched form on the sofa with a straw between your lips.

You know you’re in for it when you’re better and you nervously swallow, offering them a sheepish smile.

“...hi…”

Wanda stares at your fragile state, a mixture of emotions clouding her eyes, from guilt to a slight twinge of insecurity. She wants to wrap you up and promise to be a better dom; for herself but most importantly for you.

Carol makes a beeline straight for you and starts fussing over you. She caresses your cheek and feels your forehead, frowning slightly, before reaching over for the washcloth. As she dabs at your face, wiping away the tears that tumble from your eyes, Natasha, with Wanda beside her, moves closer and places a gentle kiss on your damp temple. 

“Hey there, little kotenok, how are we feeling, hmm?” 

They’re there. Your trio. There to finally care for you and you instantly feel safe. Comforted by their presence and you reach out, grabbing the nearest body to drag them down on top of you. Wanda’s scent fills your nose and you nestle into her neck. 

“Am I in trouble?” you whisper and you can feel her grinning. 

“Oh yes,” she replies, “but not right now. Tomorrow maybe. But for now, rest sweet girl. We’re here.” 

You can only nod as Carol gently moves Wanda so she can scoop you up into her arms. 

As you’re carried away to your bedroom, you can see Natasha speaking quietly to MJ; and make the mental note to ask her what was said. But for now, you allow yourself to be carried away. Not even five minutes later, nestled against Wanda, you doze off with a smile.  

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #carol danvers #reader insert #sugar mommies #spiderbites #sugar mommies!asks #natasha x wanda x carol x reader #smu #sugar mommies drabbles #sugar mommies drabble

[gender-trash]

(i am seriously late in posting about this due to The Problems BUT whatever! its here now!!)

somewhere around late november 2022, i asked my dad "hey are there any out of print technical books you'd like a reprint of for christmas?"

he linked me to a dubious black-and-white pdf of Foundations of Mechanical Accuracy. now, i wound up checking out a copy through link+, and the original edition is a really nicely put together book! the chapters are themed around various types of measurements (length, angle, etc), and they all have these cute little diagrams which the endpapers reuse in a lil repeating pattern... the image captions are done in this really lovely dark red that did not scan for SHIT... tons and tons of diagrams and illustrations and images (both color and b&w)... just, all around, a fucking nice book!! (see also @morrak's post about it here.)

and that made me feel kind of bad about the crappiness of the pdf, which is where the Problems began. i used my phone to take pictures of all the photos and color diagrams in the original and went about replacing them in the pdf, using what turned out to be the world's worst pdf editing software (i also got through replacing all the image captions in chapter 1 of 5 before my dad convinced me to give up). i did NOT finish the pdf editing before christmas 2022 (i was going somewhat off the deep end, because both my housemates were away visiting family and i had zero external structure in my life so it was just me and my cat and this stupid FUCKING pdf wrecking my sleep schedule together); i poked away at it for most of the rest of my time off and then got so goddamn sick of it i put the project away for months. "it'll be a birthday gift instead", i said optimistically (my dad's birthday is in april! it should have been enough time!)

gentle readers, i did not finish the pdf editing by april. mostly because it was such a miserable slog that i put it off until the last possible moment and then tried to make up for it with another death march.

hating both myself and the project again, i decided i was Not going to let myself typeset Anything Else before it was done, and then took a break to bind my immortal (using the renegade publishing typeset! i didn't do any typesetting!!). SURELY, i said, i can finish this in time for christmas 2023.

i'm sure you know where this is going.

in my defense i DID finish the pdf editing by christmas, despite first doing every other possible procrastination project (including a second edition of the little second century warlord book), because by this point my dad had managed to convince me to lower my standards. on the evening of the 22nd i kicked off the print job and said to myself "this will finish printing overnight and then tomorrow i can work on sewing the textblock!"

late on the 23rd, after lots of babysitting and using at least one cartridge of every color ink in my printer, the print job was finally done. (my sweet and lovely cat wants SO BADLY to hunt and stalk the printer while it is printing -- more specifically, the printed pages, i think because they tend to make noise and move and then STOP moving. for this reason, the printer is kept in the craft room, because the cat can be shut out of the craft room and thus prevented from chewing on the pages when i have an all-day book printing job going. unfortunately the craft room was also being pressed into service as a guest room at the time so 80% of the floor space was consumed by an air mattress which i had to repeatedly trip over in order to reach the printer and replace the ink cartridges.)

then i went to my parents' house on the 24th and 25th and apologized to my dad (again) for not having the book finished. but this worked out well because we finished putting together my awesome new book clamp:

(the feet still aren't done being painted so they're just dry-fit on for now but you can still clamp books in it and that's what matters!!)

i came home, sewed the textblock (french link stitch over four linen tapes, with sewn endbands made of variegated embroidery floss over linen cord, and kozo paper glued over the spine)

... and promptly realized i SHOULD HAVE PUT IN MORE OF A GUTTER because some of the text was getting reeeeeeal close to the spine. "it's fine!" i said. "i just have to make sure it lays flat!! what better time than to try out K118 binding, a technique i have literally never done before and which people on the bookbinding discord notoriously have a hard time pulling off first try! i even have tyvek tape for it!"

so it turns out that tyvek tape isn't actually tyvek with glue on it, it's tape FOR attaching pieces of tyvek TO EACH OTHER, which maybe i could have guessed if i'd done even the slightest amount of research or planning. at this point i think it was the 27th and i was still angling to get this thing done by new year's, so no time to order Actual Tyvek.

fortunately, i had ALSO received An Package in the mail with yarn for a totally unrelated knitting project... shipped in a tyvek envelope.

i peeled all the shipping labels and stickers off my tyvek envelope, cut that shit up, and glued it on there.

and THEN it was time for gluing on covers, which i thought was going to be easy because i had actually thought ahead and ordered materials (specifically acid-free museum board), except when i cracked open the box of museum board i decided i Didn't Like It because the surface was too soft and easily dented, so i glued onto it the too-thin board material i'd previously been using (so that the cardboard goes on the outside of the book). this worked super well (the cardboard stuff has a tendency to curl up from the glue moisture, but the museum board doesn't!) and i'll probably use it on other stuff in the future.

i thought the blue bookcloth i used was kind of boring but i showed my dad the available cloth options and he really liked it, so... what do you know? i cut the piece i used on the back cover very slightly too short but it wound up being covered by the leather, so you can barely tell.

and the leather... a scrap just baaaaarely big enough from my bag of leather scraps from discount fabrics... and this the first time i'd ever attempted to put leather on a book... AND YET the only complaint i have is that i didn't manage to put an even amount on the front and back. it's reasonably square and straight!! amazing!!

i am super super happy with how this project came out (especially given the number of problems i encountered) and oh my god check out how much the spine bends

AND, AS A NEW YEAR'S PRESENT, I FINALLY MANAGED TO GIVE IT TO MY DAD

#and promptly got sick after i got home from my parents' house. #which is part of why this post was so long delayed #the trashcan speaks #devil venerable also wants to exploit the memoir class for evil purposes #bookbinding

[rubra-wav]

Hiya! I absolutely loved your posts about the HH main cast dealing with a sick reader and them being sick. You did a phenomenal job with them!

As for a request, what about Vox, hell’s resident bipedal tv, hc’s of him realizing he’s legitimately falling for reader?

Vox realises he has feelings for you

A/N : Thank you so much seriously!! 💛

Cw: SFW, gn!reader, suggestive comment at one point, angst-ish/ Vox coping

- It'll be a good long time before he realises he's fallen for you, and when he finally does, he's fully in it. There's no turning back and there's no backpedalling. He's absolutely whipped.

- It hits him one day like a train that he's actually in love with you all at once.

- He hung out with you the afternoon, and that night he's laying on his back with his phone gripped in his hand against his chest.

- It's been exactly 3 and a half hours since you were out together on a movie date at the VIP premiere. (as in in the ridiculously lavish movie room he had within Vee tower)

- He had been counting.

- You hadn't texted him back yet, and he was tapping his claw impatiently waiting for you to message him back with the world's biggest pout on his face.

- He'd already sent 4 texts, and none of them had been answered yet. He had to stop himself from sending more because he didn't want to seem too desperate. (Even though he was)

- He told himself he'd be mad that you had made him wait whenever you got back to him. He'd blow up over it.

- However, the second his phone buzzes and he sees the notification from you saying you had fun and were sorry you hadn't gotten back immediately it's like his dopamine receptors have been kicked into absolute overdrive.

- He's giddy. Warmth is flooding his chest, and he starts breathing heavier as the world's dorkiest smile spreads across his face.

- It isn't then that he realises exactly, but it's when you leave to go to sleep after texting him for a couple of hours with a flirtatious comment that has his head spinning and sparking.

- You were talking about how you'd washed your sheets that day and were making your bed. He acted like he was bored, and your next words absolutely took him out.

- "Fine. Next time, come over, and I'll spread you out on my bed then."

- When he calms down, it's messed up again as he's questioning himself.

- Why did I glitch out to them saying something that resembles a shitty pick-up line? Why did I count every minute that passed the second you went home? Why do I feel like I'm on drugs the second you pay me the slightest bit of attention.

- OH FUCK -

- He goes through all stages of grief as he realises he's in love with you in a single second and ends up causing a blackout in his bedroom in the process.

- When he roboots, he holds his head in his hands and chugs delulu juice instantly feels absolutely terrified.

- It's humiliating for him to have such delicate feelings, let alone for someone who surely doesn't feel the same way. His experiences with real, genuine romantic love for other people have hardly ended well.

- He likely tries to distance himself from you because he's scared of the fact he is so attached to you.

- It's been ages and ages of being attached to you but he's only fully realised - or at least fully acknowledged the extent of that attachment.

- His distance from you is shortly lived however as he craves you and your presence so badly he's disgusted at himself.

- He would not be the one to confess 9 times out of 10.

- Even if it's glaringly obvious you are also into him, he copes so fucking hard he's actually delusional with the excuses he makes about it.

- He basically friendzones HIMSELF.

- You could kiss him on the cheek or hold his hands in yours or cup his face lovingly and he would be there glitching while thinking about how you must just be like this with everyone else-

- He's charismatic, charming, and can often read everyone around him like an open book - analyse their behaviours, true intentions, expressions, thoughts under it all, etc.

- But he's so terribly stupid with love.

- You need to confess to him first most likely and he'll probably still think you're bullshitting him.

- Literally finds every reason of why you aren't in love with him and tries to twist everything that way.

- Even when he's in love, he wants it to be reciprocated obviously. The thought of it not being requited as he expects is embarrassing at best.

- But, he's genuinely probably even more terrified of what that means if you do love him back.

- It's easier if you don't love him back for him because he's scared of the way you might further bring out whatever imperfections and vulnerability he's shown you already after actually being in a relationship with you.

- He craves being in a relationship with you and the security you could bring him to expose those parts of himself he desperately conceals with masks resting on masks, but also its deeply unnerving to him simultaneously.

Infuriating watching the process of this man actually realising he's in love for real, honestly 😭

#vox x reader fanfic #vox #hazbin hotel Vox #hazbin hotel #vox headcanons #vox x reader

[kissesfrombangtanatnight]

Pillow Talk: Jimmy Uso

AN I do not own the image in this image.

You lied in your husbands muscular arms feeling so loved and secure. He lied beside you kissing along your collarbone ever so gently.

"Look, if you think you're about to sweet talk your way into round three, you're wrong. I'm tired as hell and sore. Nobody told you to be going that damn hard." You say playfully hitting his arm. He looks down smirking at you.

"If I remember correctly, you were yelling out daddy, fuck me harder! right there! ahh! just a few moments ago." He says imitating your high pitched moans.

"Boy shut uppp." You say hiding your face in his chest as if this weren't y'alls umpteenth time having sex. But, every time felt so different with him. He knew your body and needs like the back of his hand. Your man was ready to do whatever, whenever, however to your body, all you had to do was give him the green light. "But seriously babe, I don't think I'm gonna make it to work in the morning." You groan.

"If I don't have that thang sore, I ain't doin my job. Besides, you were gonna call in sick anyway. I did you a favor." You playfully roll your eyes though he can't see in the dimly lit room. A comfortable silence falls between you to as you trace the tattoos on his lower arm.

"Baby, you remember how we met?" He asks suddenly, caressing your hip. You think back to the time you and Jimmy met twelve years ago.

"How can I forget. You came up to me talkin bout some you're gonna be my wife. Boy you just don't know you almost got your ass slapped. No, for real, you was about to have me kill your future generations with one damn kick between your legs." You say looking up at him as he laughs.

"So am I wrong for speaking it into existence? You're right here aren't you? I knew I had you the minute I walked up. You were then one, I had to let you know." He smiles that beautiful smile of his.

"I'm just saying, can't be saying shit like that these days. Have you six feet under."

"But seriously though, I'm glad I did. We've come a long way. It hasn't always been easy and I know there were plenty of times we both could've walked away, but we didn't. What we've built these past decade can't be broken. I love you so much. You're my world, aside from my kids. I love you. I love you. I love you." He says in between kisses.

"I love you more than you know. I've never felt love like this. Like, I found everything I every wanted and needed in a husband in you. And one day, everything I need in the father of my children. I got you no matter what, and you don't have to doubt that. Good or bad, thick or thin, know that I'll be right there." You say sincerely kissing his smiling lips. You pull him closer, tangling your hand in the nap of his neck. His beautiful hair falling down his face. Your tongue explored each others mouths as you let out soft whimpers. He's already hard again and your wetness is making your thighs slippery. If the mood couldn't have been more set, it began to rain outside.

"Speaking of. You make me wanna get you pregnant." He groans. You watch as he pulls away momentarily to get off the bed. You already knew what that meant. You turn around on your stomach and position yourself for him. Before you can even do it yourself, he grabs you by your ankles and pulls you to the end of the bed. He teases your wet entrance with his tip as you look back biting your lip in anticipation.

"Ready for me baby?" He asks pushing his tip into you causing you to gasp.

'Hell yeah, put that fuckin baby inside me." You beg. Nothing more needed to be said as he guides himself into you slowly. "Fuck baby." You hiss gripping on the sheets tightly as your man stretches you out.

"Say less baby because I'm about to make sure nothing spills out." He smirks knowing this was going to be a very, very long night for you.

#wwe smut #the bloodline #jimmy uso smut #jimmy uso x black reader #jimmy uso x reader #jimmy uso imagine #wwe bloodline #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #jimmy uso #jimmy uso fanfiction #wwe x reader

[abbyromanoff]

hey babes! could i request a story based on this version of unholy (Nat's pov)? r has no idea her partner is doing something unholy and ofc, Nat knows everything so tells r. or maybe r just finds it out herself. (Nat wants r to be hers for a long time and r is actually also into Nat but she thought Nat does not like her that way stuff like that maybe) if you could also add some smut in there that would be awesome👀 thank you so much! <3

also i hope you're doing okay and taking care of yourself<3

Unholy

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x afab!reader

Word count: 1819

Warnings: smut, kinda toxic!Nat, housewife kink, pet names, cheating, kinda dubcon, praise kink, degrading kink, fingering, cumming untouched, small daddy kink (like 2-3 times), think that’s all

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

“Seriously, Y/N? Everyone knows it except you!” You stopped in your tracks, your back facing the older woman who was giving up on informing you of the truth.

“No. No, you don’t get to dictate my marriage, Nat! You don’t get to ruin us all because you feed off of it. You feed off of others' pain, I’m not letting you do that to me too.” You both were pacing and ended up in the living room. You sat on the couch, your head in your hands as you rubbed your temples. Nat hesitantly sat next to you, wrapping one arm around your back and the other grasping your knee. You tried pushing her off to no avail; she was always much stronger than you.

“Y/N, you need to listen to me-”

“And why would I do that? Look, I know about your feelings for me, you make them pretty fucking obvious, but that doesn’t give you the right to destroy my happiness just so you can have me.” She sighed, looking down at the floor as you continued to stare at her side profile. She was deathly alluring and so very seductive, but this was wrong on so many levels. You were married. Your wife would most likely be home in less than an hour and greeting you with a kiss as always.

“I need to start dinner before it’s too late. If you’d like to stay with us that’s fine, but I advise you don’t go near me anymore.” Deep down you both knew she was right. You had heard of your wife’s cheating scandals while she was on business trips or even right next door. The man, Vision, had always been close to you and Wanda, but you never thought your wife of all people, the same one who’d bring you home flowers three or more times a week, would have an affair. You trusted her, or so you thought.

Natasha was sick of your defiance and stormed after you, determined to make you believe her one way or another.

“Do not walk away from me when I was not done talking to you, Y/N.” She used your full name, you’ve never heard those words leave her mouth. You turned to look at her with a cold gaze, at least your best shot of one. Your teeth were clenched together and your fists were gripping the stove handle with a deathly hold.

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do in my own house, Natasha.” She took a step forward, cornering you in between her and the cooking appliance.

“Your house? Or Wanda’s?” You looked at her with widened eyes, your hand just begging to be connected harshly with her face by now.

“Don’t go there.”

“Oh, but I think I will. You see, I think I know why you’re trying so damn hard to prove to me that I’m wrong when you know I’m right, we’re all right. You can’t live without her. She was the one who bought this house with her money, she’s the one who buys the groceries, she’s the one who pays the bills while you just set the table for her every night like a good little housewife. Is that what you are? Just a pathetic little wife to Wanda that gives her everything she wants? You’re so far gone that you refuse to accept the fact that she’s been fucking that guy for the past seven months, but you knew all along, didn’t you? But you knew you were nothing without her. I mean, you don’t even have a job, Y/N, how would you ever make it in the real world except for slutting yourself out to any businessman who wants it?” Tears threatened to escape your eyes at the harsh words, but she wasn’t exactly wrong. You didn’t have a job, you relied on your wife for all funds and she didn’t disappoint. It’s not like you didn’t want to support yourself, but Wanda had already convinced you years ago to be her perfect housewife and while you completed your job with ease, there was always that want of more. You felt like nothing without her, and you were starting to truly believe it.

“Get out.” Was all you were able to muster out. You heard a scoff as Nat shook her head before locking her eyes with you once more. You refused to stand down or show your fear, you kept your eyes in line with hers just like she was doing now.

“What?”

“I said,” You paused, gritting your teeth and leaning in so her face was nearly touching yours. “Get out of my house.” She placed her hands over your clenched ones but only received a slap on the cheek. She tumbled back a few steps before chuckling to herself.

“Fiesty, huh? That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You rolled your eyes and tried to point your attention to the pot boiling on the stove. That was until the woman came up behind you, placing her hands on your hips and her crotch against your ass. You tried paying no mind to her, you really did. But that was nearly impossible as she grinded her body against your backside. She bit her lip as the fabric of her undergarments rubbed just perfectly against her clit. Her hands traveled your body, landing on your breasts and palming the soft skin.

“Fuck, Wanda’s such a fucking idiot for letting this go.” You hated to admit it, but her touch was fascinating. You wanted more, you needed more. And her degrading words from earlier didn’t fail to leave a wetness coating your thighs. You couldn’t help but imagine this situation another way, being Nat’s housewife and having her come home to use you like this - like you were a toy. Like you were nothing but a hole for her to use when she needed it. She was wealthy, very wealthy at that. She was the CEO of a large investment company and, while she didn’t like to brag about it, you knew she had more than enough to support herself. All she needed was a sugar baby like you by her side to spoil immensely.

When you let out a small moan as she tweaked your abused nipples she slyly smirked to herself. “Awh, you’re liking this, aren’t you? You like the thrill of it? Knowing that your wife could walk through that door any second now and see her innocent little girl being used?” You shook your head, trying to come up with a reply until you were interrupted by a gasp leaving your lips. You were so lost in the feeling that you hadn’t even noticed one of Nat’s hands moving down your stomach and into the waistline of your panties. She teased the band of your undergarment by pulling it back and letting it slap your skin. You bucked your hips at the sudden shock. She continued her voyage, slipping her fingers into your panties and grinning when she felt your wetness coating her fingers.

“Nat, stop it.”

“Hm, I don’t think that’s true, love. You tell me you want me to stop, but the way you’re grinding on me tells me otherwise.” You hadn’t even noticed how you had started mindlessly rubbing yourself onto her. Her fingers would just graze against your clit and cause chills to run down your spine. You attempted to stop yourself, but your body was moving on its own.

“That’s it, fuck yourself on daddy’s fingers.” You moaned at the title she gave herself and did as she asked, letting yourself succumb to the pleasure of her digits on you.

“Tell me how it feels, baby girl.” She placed her head on your shoulder, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume that had her addicted from the beginning.

“It- it feels good, really fucking good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You leaned your back into her front, grasping her arm and holding onto her for dear life. You could feel her muscles tightening beneath you, only being able to picture how she must’ve looked completely bare, all of her muscles shining and on display. Her fingers teased around your hole before she eased two of her digits inside of you, the feeling still not being enough.

“Oh, fuck!” You whimpered loudly, quickly being shushed by the redhead behind you.

“Shh, sweetheart, I don’t want anyone but me hearing these perfect melodies.” Her lips pressed against your neck, leaving a small trail of her red-stained lipstick before she connected them with your own, one of your hands grasping the side of her face and pulling her impossibly closer.

“Please, daddy, please fuck me.” You whispered against her lips, feeling her hot breath against yours. She bit her lip before diving back in for more, requesting access with her tongue that you soon gave her. You felt a third finger prodding at your entrance, your nearly gaping hole letting her slip in with ease.

“Look at how well you’re taking me, baby.” You looked down, still feeling her sloppy kisses against your cheek. You were restricted from seeing her thoroughly with your now ruined pants still on, but you watched as her hand moved at impossible speeds inside of you.

“Your ass looks so fucking good in these jeans. God, you’re gonna make me cum already.” She could feel her stomach tightening and the coil becoming unbearable. You were the same, being so close to the edge that the orgasm you were so desperately chasing was the only thing on your mind besides the beautiful woman giving you it.

“I want you to cum with me, Y/N. Make a mess of me, darling.” You threw your head back on her shoulder, her lips continuing their assault on your neck as she released, her hips creating slow yet hard thrusts against you. It was crazy how she didn’t even need to be touched to finish, but you weren’t going to complain.

“Oh, love, you’re so irresistible, you drive me mad.” She could feel your cum painting her digits and soaking your panties, knowing the only thought in your fucked-up mind was her.

“You believe me now?” She asked after moments of silence that was filled with both of your heavy breathing. You gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. I always have, Nat.” The thought was saddening, to say the least, but you knew that as long as you had Nat by your side, everything would be okay.

“Well, why don’t we put on a little show for when your wife comes home then?” You both giggled, rushing to the couch after you turned off the stove. She lied below you, watching with mesmerized eyes as you removed your shirt, leaving you in nothing but your white bra.

“Why don’t you let me thank you this time?”

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x fem!reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanov #natasha fanfic #natasha #natasha marvel #natasha romanov smut #natasha romonova #natasha smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #mcu natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x reader angst #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x reader fluff #natasha romanoff x female #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader

[diazsdimples]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @theotherbuckley @steadfastsaturnsrings and @puppyboybuckley (who published the final chapter of the Mudslide Fic, PLEASE go read it!)

I wasn’t gonna do this today cause I had the shift from hell and didn’t manage to write anything yesterday between birthday things but I managed to cobble this together after my shift! Frostpunk AU weirdly came back to me so please enjoy this small snippet!

Much to Buck’s relief, both Edmundo and Christopher are still alive when they make it back to the city, in record time as Bobby will have him believe. Rappelling down the cliff with two semi-conscious, reasonably unstable patients is more difficult than they’d initially anticipated, so in a rush of fear as he watches Bobby struggle with Christopher, Buck offers to bring the boy down himself.

Much like they did the day Buck carried Christopher to the cabin, they strap the child to Buck’s chest, using a small harness stored in the med kit on a “just in case” basis. Christophers head clunks repetitively against Buck’s chest as he pushes them off the cliff, slowly letting the rope out with each jump. He wishes that it wasn’t a two-hand job, that he could cradle Christopher’s head with one hand and keep the rope moving with the other.

Above him, Bobby abseils down with Edmundo dangling to the side of him in a basket. They’d done one last temperature check on the two of them before descending into the heavy, cold mist that lay over the city, and Edmundo’s had been the lowest they’d seen it since the rescue. The way Eli’s face had paled and he’d instantly tugged Bobby aside, talking with him in low, hushed tones was enough to tell Buck about the state of his health.

It made a cold, thrill of fear rush down Buck’s spine, settling in the pit of his stomach as a constant reminder of how precarious Edmundo and Christopher’s situation was, as he carried the small boy to safety.

The moment Buck and Christopher touched the ground, they were pounced on by a team of medics, headed by Hen.

“What’s the story, Buck?” Hen asked as she hurried to help peel off Buck’s outer layers and unclip him from the harness.

“Found this guy and his dad half frozen yesterday. He’s probably 7 or 8 years old and got moderate to severe hypothermia. Eli’s been monitoring him and he’s stable but barely conscious. Probably malnourished and seriously dehydrated,” Buck pants as he lowers Christopher onto the stretcher Hen has prepared. The kid’s light brown curls fall over his face, curling against his eyelids and Buck reaches out a tender hand to brush them back before he can stop himself.

If Hen notices, she chooses not to mention the look in his eyes as he does this.

“Alright, we’re going to take him to the med tent now. What about his dad?” Hen asks as two medics swiftly hoist Christopher’s stretcher into the air and run off in the direction of the nearest med tent.

Buck watches, half in a daze as Edmundo is lowered to the ground. His lips are pale and chapped, and his face looks lifeless and devoid of colour as his head lols to the side. A sick feeling creeps through Buck’s body as he thinks of how close they came to not making it back. How close Christopher came to losing his father.

“This is Edmundo Diaz, severe hypothermia, dehydration and malnourishment. He’s had issues with his oxygen and heart rate consistently through the journey home. Hen, he’ll need around the clock care, someone to stay with him, to keep an eye on him,” Buck says, hearing the urgency in his voice as he speaks. He doesn’t know what compels him, other than a sense that Edmundo is the other half of a magnet that’s drawing him ever closer, but Buck continues talking. “You guys can’t spare another medic but I-I don’t mind sitting with him. I’m good at taking his vitals a-and I could keep an eye on the kid.”

Hen eyes him, as if trying to read what his true motivation is. “Go,” she finally says, inclining her head towards the tent. Buck doesn’t need to be told twice.

No pressure tagging @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @evanbegins @smilingbuckley @thekristen999 @elvensorceress @rainbow-nerdss @wikiangela @daffi-990 @watchyourbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @bucksbackwardcap @fortheloveofbuddie @aroeddiediaz @jesuisici33 @buckbuckgoose @exhuastedpigeon @cal-daisies-and-briars @wildlife4life @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @nmcggg @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @kitteneddiediaz @epicbuddieficrecs @spagheddiediaz @loserdiaz

#james writes #frostpunk au #tired words that probably don’t make sense #hoping this pulls me out of my writing funk #buddie #eddie diaz #911 abc #evan buckley #911 buddie #911verse #911 fanfic #911 #eddie x buck

[hellaarknight]

Nothing can change the way I see you

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙

Pairing: Chuuya x femreader Warnings: pet names, mental and physical struggles, being pregnant, a bit oc (a bit more actually) Genre: Fluf/Comfort

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙

Chuuya never thought about seriously having children. Yeah, sure, he did find the idea entertaining, but he could not see himself as a father. Firstly because of his job and the dangers it entails, and secondly because he was afraid of being a shitty father. Probably many other reasons, but these two were enough to engrave in his mind that he would never be a father. And honestly, all was working out when he met you, his now wife, and a person who also did not want kids. So when you presented him with a pregnancy test he was conflicted. Scared. And so were you.

Despite these feelings, he hugged you and reassured you that you would figure it out together. He wiped away your tears when one day you confessed you were afraid his feelings would change with this pregnancy. „Doll... There is no way in hell that my feelings for you will ever change” „But...but... You say that now, but when I will have a belly and stretchmarks and I will be in pain, you will be repulsed by me” His hands cupped your face and he put his forehead onto yours. „Never. There is nothing in this world that could happen to make me lose my feelings. Nothi'g, pretty. You are my everything and despite you not wanting children, you chose to go forward with the pregnancy and gift me a kid. Baby doll, I'm staying by your side every step of this life.”

Unfortunately, no matter how much Chuuya was trying to convince you about his intentions, the story of your work colleagues and some friends did nothing but aggravate a feeling of dread for the pregnancy, birth experience, and whatever would happen afterward. Partners lose interest in their wives, not being attracted by them anymore, being repulsed because they saw the birth of their kids, and not wanting to engage in intimacy anymore, abandoning their spouse to all the chores of the house, minimizing the struggle of a new mom. And these were just some examples of what was told to you and what you read online. But Chuuya... Chuuya wouldn't do something like this, right? Chuuya was unaware of your internal struggles as he worked his but off in the Mafia so he could take more months off to be by your side in this process. It wasn't about the money, he had plenty, but about gaining more time from his life as an executive. Chuuya read a lot about pregnancy, side effects, and everything that had to do with the struggles of becoming a mom. He swore he would try to be as supportive as ever for you and the best dad he could ever be. When the hormones hit you like a brick, having you going from one emotional state to another, he wouldn't get angry once. Instead, he navigated through your mood changes the best he could. Was he going crazy? Yes, absolutely. But never once has he got mad at you. Not once has he raised his voice or made you feel bad about your own outburst, for your tears for your pitiful sight. „Baby, I'm not mad at you.” His voice soft, his hand holding yours while you tried to avoid his gaze. „Yes...hic... you are... I'm a terrible wife... I forgot, I'm sorry, I forgot to pack your lunch and now you're mad”. „No, baby, no, I am not mad, I ate plenty and you are not a terrible wife. You shouldn't even bother to think about doing things for me in this period, ok? You should rest as much as possible. Since the pregnancy is one with risks, you need to focus only on yourself, ok love?”

When you started having morning sickness and emptying your stomach almost every morning, he was there by your side if he was home, holding your hair up and rubbing your back. It pained him to see you vomiting so often, barely eating anything because everything made you nauseous. When in those moments you found yourself disgusting, he found you the most beautiful and amazing woman in the world. You kept pushing through. You kept drinking your prenatal vitamins to have a healthy baby and tried to have a variate diet, even tho you could barely tolerate food. In his eyes, you were shining, glowing, and wiping your mouth after one nauseous episode was the least he could do for you. „Chuu... I'm disgusting, how can you stay here?” Laying with your face near the toilet, tired, as you emptied your stomach for the fourth time today. „Stop talking like this about yourself, honey. It is something natural that happens and there is nothing to be disgusted of. C'me here, let me clean you up and I'll carry you to bed, you should sleep, you're barely getting around. And I'll have something else cooked when you wake up and you'll try again to eat, 'key baby?”

Chuuya was sure, there was nothing in this world, nothing that this pregnancy could bring that would make him look at you with less adoration. His feelings only grew bigger, if possible, he found you more and more charming every day, every day that belly grew and you faced another struggle in the process.

#chuuya x you #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bungou stray dogs #chuuya x reader #chuuya bsd #hellawrites #bsd men #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya fanfic #pregnancy #nakahara chuuya #bungo stray dogs