I Can Fix Him-No I Can’t I Don’t Want To

everyone is in love with marinette for her selflessness and her ability to get smooshed like a bug literally whenever

You roll over as gently as you can, even though you want to flop angrily against the mattress. The brief satisfaction you would get from the tantrum would be quickly overrun by guilt if you woke up the man sleeping soundly next to you.

Even that small movement is too much. Not even a moment passes before a muscular arm slips over your waist and a sleep slurred voice murmurs against your back, "Can't sleep?"

You mumble an apology, making to get up so that at least one of you can rest before your next patrol, but you're stopped by Shoto's arm tightening around you. You can't help but smile despite your frustration and fatigue; he's always clingy when he's sleep warm and soft around the edges.

He presses his face into the nape of your neck, and you feel his lips brush against the delicate skin there. It's instinctive, the way you relax into his hold, letting him press the lengths of your bodies together, not a millimetre of space between you as he moves to hook his chin over your shoulder, pressing a clumsy kiss to your cheek.

"Go back to sleep, Shoto."

"Rather stay awake with you." A sweet statement; one which makes your heart clench even as you hold back a giggle - he's barely conscious, his reassurance of you muscle memory at this point.

His hand moves to your hip, rubbing soft circles into the sliver of skin between your pyjama shorts and the t-shirt of his you stole back when you were both still students.

"I'm okay. Really. No nightmares, no injuries - just restless." You snuggle back into him, lacing your fingers through his and pulling his hand up from your hip so you can lay a kiss to his palm, "Go back to sleep."

You feel him nod against your neck and moments later, his breathing evens out again - your sweet boy really was holding out just for you. The thought warms your heart and suddenly, you don't mind so much that you can't sleep. Not if it means you get a little extra time to bask in his love.

me tweaking out trying to find that one good fanfic

I’m so sad… time for an x reader fan fiction

you did not kudos? you left the fic without a reblog? oh! oh! jail for reader! jail for reader for One Thousand Years!

Thinking about how easy it is for Bruce to manhandle you. He's so much bigger and stronger so it doesn’t take much for him to grab you and manoeuvre you into whatever position he wants. (while also still making sure that you’re comfortable and it’s pleasurable for you as well).

He loves it when you're on top, his grip on your hips harsh, as he effortlessly moves you up and down his cock, like you're his own personal fucktoy. Throughly enjoying every last noise that leaves you as he makes you take his cock.

Or when he's got you against the wall, holding you up effortlesly. Your legs spread almost impossible wide to accommodate his larger frame as he fucks you. Even better if the two of you are in the shower or the batcave, your moans reverbing off of the walls, only encouraging him to fuck you harder and faster until you're dripping with his release.

girls will look at a man and say “he’s just misunderstood” as he murders people

acting strong pero shet

George would be such a girl dad, he would have tea parties with them and let them paint his nails and put makeup on him. He'd adore them he'd be so proud of any little thing they do, AH he'd be such a good dad😭

yess anon you get me!! girldad!george weasley who is the best stay-at-home dad ever. you have to spend a lot of time at work, so george spends late nights putting his baby girl to bed, singing her little lullabies until she falls asleep in his arms. he’s too scared of waking her to move, so he sleeps on the lounge, his body and lanky limbs stuck in awkward angles just so he doesn’t wake your daughter.

during the days, he spends hours dressing her up like a princess, helping her read the books you borrowed from the library for her, and letting her paint his nails. they were messy, splashes of pink and purple and grey across his long pale fingers that dwarfed her chubby ones. he grinned at the sight of her, little pink tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth as she focused, dragging the brush across the nails bitten to the quick. when you come home, he looks less like your familiar husband, and more like a clown attacked by preschoolers.

and when you tell him that you’re pregnant again, he can’t help hoping it’ll be another baby girl.

everybody shut up and let me be emotional about this stupid superhero story PLEASE.